Dear Diary,
"Unadulterated joy, That is what Ecstasy is, No matter how you reach it." - Tabitha Diaz, Doctrine of Tabitha, Book of Ecstasy
Here, in the penultimate Book of the Testament of Domains, Tabitha describes her desire for us, those who devote ourselves to her Doctrine, follow her, Worship her. Ecstasy, joy unfettered by guilt or shame or worth. Our Goddess believes every one of us deserves joy, deserves rapturous Ecstasy. Not because we've undergone some difficult trial, or sacrificed, or otherwise 'paid' for it, but because we exist. - Priestess Most High Above All Others, Archmage Imperator Saffron Aetos-Diaz, Commentary on the Doctrine of Tabitha
I don't really know how to feel about that. On the one hand, part of me thinks that joy without effort isn't gonna be as joyous, like I said yesterday. But on the other hand, that's not a question of virtue or some other bullshit. The dessert isn't sweeter because it doesn't deserve sweetness without a little bitterness. The orgasm doesn't deserve to hit harder because it pressed all the buttons and held out longer, it just does. There's no value judgement to it, just a sort of pragmatism, I guess is the best way to describe it.
So yeah, I guess my Kitten is right, as usual. Honestly, I ought to stop reviewing these with so much of an eye to 'making sure Kitten didn't mess something up', not that I ever really was. I mean, I'm still gonna read my way through. Due diligence is due. But I think maybe I need to start reading with the idea of clarifying to myself what my goals and desires and shit actually are. Even the few times when I've sort of disagreed with her Commentary, most of it was just a question of my original Doctrine being all fucked up because of the whole meter thing.
Or maybe I fucked it up because I wrote most of it under the influence of Ria's Blessing. Just to clarify, I'm not blaming Ria for any problems with the Doctrine. Shit, that's like blaming the vodka for the aftertaste when some dude did porn star shit with me back in the day. Yeah, the vodka might have lowered my inhibitions until they wound up tripping hazards rather than walls, but I'm the one that drank that shit, I'm the one that put that particular porn on, and I'm the one that came out with some drunk slurred rambling 'nobody ever does shit like that to me'.
But yeah, I wrote a lot of my Doctrine without any of the experience I'd worked my ass off to get at the time. I mean, from an emotional perspective I think I'd still matured a bit from when I got shot, but that's really hard to quantify. On the other hand, I couldn't remember any of Sister Cheryl's lessons on Law and Custom, the Marshall's lessons on Logistics, or even Doc's lessons on Shaping. So I just had to wing it most of the time. Which means a lot of the morality, the values in the Doctrine are those of a girl who'd spent half a dozen years alternating between the street, the school system, and slipping ever further into the worst parts of the Internet.
Dammit, I'd almost forgotten about that fuckin' machine Conrad built.
So at the end of a really nice day yesterday, I brought dinner home at the same time I scooped up all the girls and brought them home as well. Funny, we'd had the big kitten table set in the middle of the dining room for long enough that I didn't even think about it, just scooped them up and plonked their increasingly hefty butts down on the table with big bowls of meat mush and spoons. After Alex got her finger bit, I tagged Jon at the Academy and he made us some more nice metal spoons. Not that our women couldn't make spoons, but I figured I'd try to get something a little more durable to start with. Not like they're not gonna gnaw them into modern art and need replacement in any case.
Once I had the kids feeding the kits and my ladies all settled in eating pizza, I stepped over to Ivan's bar and reached out a hand. "You comin'?"
He blinked. "I thought you'd be here in the morning."
"Tonight's Revel night."
He shrugged. "Not my thing."
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That got me. I stood there kinda blinking for a minute then shook my head. "Okay. Not something I can relate to, but I'll see you in the morning then?"
He nodded, and I stepped back to my Altar in New Amsterdam. Dana stood there, waiting. "Welcome, Goddess!"
They waved to the first Priestess in line, but I held up my hand, then reached one hand out to Dana. "C'mere, you."
They paused, but stepped dutifully to take my hand. I dropped my Blend and sat down, pulling them down onto my knee. "You don't mind sitting on my lap, do you?"
I might have peeked inside their head to be sure when they shook it, a single jerk, that they weren't just telling me what I wanted to hear. "No, Goddess."
I took their hands in mine and looked deep into their eyes. "I'm not gonna push you to do anything, Dana. Or to accept anything. But you've done all the work to keep things so easy on me here, and I don't want you doing all that for me when I haven't done anything for you."
They blinked, then smiled. "Goddess, I..." They went silent, their smile turning a little goofy. Then they leaned in, hugged me, then slipped back out of my lap to their feet. "Only you, Goddess."
"You sure?" They nodded. "Okay. You think of anything, you let me know."
They beamed at me. "I will. May I?" They half turned to the line of waiting Worshippers.
I nodded, smiling back. "Let the Revel begin!"
Funny, New Amsterdam is by far the biggest single group of Worshippers coming to my Revels, so you'd expect they'd have the widest variety of stuff they want from me, but that's really the furthest thing from the truth. Elle and Alan and Lane all wanted quiet, insistent attention until their eyes rolled back and they went quietly, blissfully, ecstatically limp.
Weirdest thing here and now, none of the folks who've had me alter their Mortal shells to match their Souls have changed their names. No idea what's up with that. Maybe it's a cultural thing, maybe it's me who's weird. I've definitely done my dead level best to not even let a whiff of that confusion leak out, because I do not want to make things harder for some poor bastard who got the wrong model body.
I got my biggest surprise of the night when the next person to step to my Altar was Celeste. Of course, unlike Dana, who had no desire for sex and apparently only wanted physical intimacy in the warm fuzzy sense, and that only on rare occasions, and the trio I'd spent time with previously, who all wanted that long, slow, exhausting lovemaking, Celeste just stood there. Her shoulders drooped, her eyes on my ankles.
"Celeste?"
Her reply came back barely audible. "Goddess."
I held out my hands, and she hesitated. "C'mere, Celeste."
She shuffled forward, and I slipped my arms around her, looking into that dark, quiet place inside her. Where there was just... nothing. So I held her, rocking her gently while I crooned to her. After half an hour, she cried. She ugly cried, sobbing, sniffling and rubbing snot over me. Eventually, as the sun crept toward the horizon, she fell asleep.
I turned to Dana. "Take care of her. Watch over her. Give her something to do, something to keep her busy. Please. Have her... shit, can somebody talk to her? A Healer, a..." Then I got a rush of brains to the head. "Wait, no. If she took a vacation to Phileo for a while, would that be a problem?"
"No, Goddess."
"Okay then. Religious retreat time for Celeste." I pulled Dana in, gave her a hug, and said, "see you guys next week!"
I stepped down to our Academy suite with their quiet farewells filling my ears. Kitten?
Then she was there. "Tabitha?"
"She needs Doctor Glass."
She nodded and held out her arms. When I paused, she smiled softly at me and said, "the children are waiting for you, as is Ivan Ivanov."
I handed Celeste over to my Wife, hugged them both, and said, "I love you."
I stepped one of me to the Homestead to pick the kids up for school, and another of me to the bar where Ivan had his head on his folded arms. "Ivan?"
He stirred immediately, then looked up at me. "Morning already?"
"Yep. Ready to go?"
He sucked his teeth a little, then frowned. "Breakfast?"
I held out a hand. "Being served there."
That got me a hairy eyeball. "Liquor?"
I laughed, waggled my hand, and when he reached out and took it, stepped us to the bar. The bartender nodded at us, and I said, "get my buddy Ivan here something mild?"
Ivan mouthed the word 'mild', but when he finally got his drink in a big lidded stein, he took a sip and nodded to the bartender. "My thanks."
Then I took him down to where the kids were halfway through breakfast. He picked up a couple pastellilios from the tray, and followed me when I broke off to teach my Math class. After watching me for half an hour he was looking a little bored, so I thought, Karen?
She stepped into the room a few moments later. "Goddess?"
I smiled at her. "Can you give Ivan a tour?"
He looked at me. "Weren't you going to show me around?"
I shrugged. "I've got a class to teach. Besides, which of us do you think you can pull one over on better?"
He shook his head, and Karen stepped over. "Please, Mr. Ivanov. Come with me, I'll introduce you to the staff at the school here."
He sighed, then stepped over to her. "Okay then. Show me."
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