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God or nature,Take your pick,Must have thoughtA million years or soBefore decidingWhere to placeThe buttocksSo as to transformTorso into thighs,Thighs into backAnd belly;We can only wonder howMany millennia HeOr it spent in fixingThe location of women'sBouncing breasts.There is something about a pairOf buttocks, sleek and full and round,That begs for punishment.In a cruel world such as ours,Beauty is as much or moreA liability as it is an asset.Woe be she who is callipygian,For she shall be hunted downAnd impaled upon masculinityBoth merciless and relentless:We live in wicked times!It is impossible for mostTo look upon a seated nudeAnd imagine her at stool;The beauty of her buttocksBelies the thought that she,Like you and me, must answerNature's call to defecate.We would rather imagine herSeated upon an aluminum ladder,Dipping her toes in the water,Beside a pier or boat.Everything about me--My eyes and mouth,My chocolate hair,The arch of my back,The soft fullness of my breasts,The. He was so kind behind that mask of his, though he only showed that kind side of him when he felt it counted. The minutes ticked down to when I would be able to move once again into his embrace. But I knew I was in a weakened state from not feeding within a few days. He had warned me that I needed it. But I wouldn’t take his offering, knowing how much it would hurt him, even though he was offering freely to me. No… I wouldn’t allow such things. I just wouldn’t be able to bring myself to take it from him. Two hours had passed as if they were days, and I was glad to be able to move once again. But only to still as I sat upon my bed, glancing up to see his glittering eyes in the dark corner once again, watching me. A slight shiver ran down my spine in a threatening way. Though I knew he would never cause me harm, it was only out of habit of what I was. I let my gaze fall as he seemed to notice the shiver that ran threw me. “Why do you hide it, little one?” he would whisper. “Is it not.
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