Slightly less bad poetry from the generator

Desolation, courage, and life.
Desolation, adventure, and faith.
The dead sea swiftly views the reef.
Lord, love!
Death, adventure, and death.

Ooh, adventure!
Oh, adventure!
The reef endures like a cold seashell.
Captains grow like sunny shores.

ever pull a mainland.
Never fight a cloud.
Whales travel like dead clouds.
Where is the small sun?
Why does the pirate die?

The sail waves like a dead moon.
Adventure, faith, and life.
Why does the wind die?
Dead, small winds calmly command a old, rough shark.
Die calmly like a warm sail.

Bad poetry from the generator

Scotlands weep!
Despair, love, and unrequited love.
Where is the heated door?
Wallss weep!
Oh, my heart, darkness!

Life , desolation, and hope.

What was the purpose of gasoline then dreamingly mo chara?

Alaskas die!

Endure painfully like a tiny Arletta.

Fast, hot waves quietly dream a dreaming, misty Jericho.

Why does the hair cry?

Waves rise!

Darling of my heart, desolation!

Why did he creepingly he did say crumble?

He was my walls love. 

Sweet love, sweet love, and darkness.

Oh me, oh my, love!

The  stormy pond roughly dreams the wave.

What was the purpose of heather amidst the frey painfully clown boy?

Jehovahs weep!

He was my life darkness.

Why does the Stuart go?

DeniseL308 Male Submissive, 56, Middle of, Nebraska Collarme.com

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The Life andTimes of Unworld, slight revision and addition from last time

From time long remembered, in the realm of Unworld, there dwelt seven god brothers; and, it is to be supposed that there they reside still.

There was Abedabun Ryu the god of light and dark, who spent much time in gloom, as he shifted moods, for his brightness and blackness was not just of the sort that regulated the hours of the day for the human inhabitants in his system, but, they were the angst and joys, loves and hates, despairs and hopes of the spirit.

Dezba Caislav, a much merrier brother than Abedabun, served as the god of war, and in his more potent states of blood lust, he was a terror to behold. Yet, it was of those things which sprang from his careless greed for wrecked human flesh that songs and odes to heroes, heroines, heroin and herons sprang.

A prime example of such is the little ditty, most favored throughout the history of Ordem, which came out of a drunken night of revelry at the Gilded Hogsnout Inn, which goes like so:

Oh, she were a pretty lassy, she, the way she dropped on bended knee

Would give the boys a thrill, made them want to drink her swill

But, she'd give them a jab, that would leave them on the slab

That heroic heroine with her heroine

Then , swiftly, she'd fly away, she would, on her fishsome bird of sea

Crying out over her shoulder, “There's boys that won't now grow older.”

For she gave them that jab, that did, indeed, leave them on the slab

Never consort with the consort of your enemy

The god of beauty and sensuality was Sohan and he, tied with Lubomir Dotan, the god of love, was Mother's sorest trial. When those two had free time, none of the cleaning staff was safe. When they were working, no human inhabitant of any world on their system was. If they were not pushed and prodded by the whims of these two brothers, to fall in and out of love, then they were in danger of becoming a victim of defied lust, as one brother or another, being traditionalists, would arrange for himself to appear before said inhabitant in a shower of gold and ready to party.

Callaghan the god of the harvest and Earvin Palash Hactithe Halcyon the god of nature often worked well together, but, as with sensuality and love, war and peace, or indeed even war and light, there were times when the harvest and the rest of nature were at cross purposes. On their more companionable days, Callaghan and Earvin would cause fields to riot with such bounty as to stop the breath in wonder, as one gazed out across the land. On the bad days, they could bring the plans of the god of war crashing to defeat.

Absalom Garvev reigned as the god of peace. He had less work than the others, most days, as peace is hard to begin, but, easy to maintain, if the harvests are going well, the days are warm and bright, the nights are dark and restful and it is all shared with a special, sensual someone to love. So, as long as his brothers kept up their work and their good moods, Absalom had little to do. Which is why he, though he remain forever regretful of it, took notice of a little speck of something which was to, forever, change their lives.

Surely other gods resided there, in Unworld, above the clouds and across the reaches; but, these were the gods who ruled over the system of stars wherein lay the little, insignificant world of Ordem.

Ordem was one of many worlds in the system, and had been almost entirely unnoticed during the majority of its existence, even by these, the gods most concerned with its welfare and when it finally was noticed by Absalom, due to the clamoring of its inhabitants for succor, and he pointed it out to his brothers, they wanted nothing to do with it. For, such a world as this, so small, so lacking in art and refinement as it was, could do little to amuse such powerful beings on its own, and, yet, they were honor bound to make something of it, as no world could remain neglected – not after the gods themselves were called on directly - if the gods of the system it belonged to had any hope of being promoted to a better system. And, they did hope to be promoted for this system was the lowest of the lows.

If the upper systems could be likened to Park Place, then this system could be likened to, not so much a tenement slum, but, more the rancid and slurgling ditch full of refuse that lay 100 miles further out than the tenement slum, which no self respecting scavenger would bother with picking through.

The god brothers did not know how or why they ended up with this system, but, they were bound and determined to make something of it, show their abilities off, and move up the ranks to somewhere with more enlightened planet dwellers, who weren't such an awful lot of hard work to deal with.

They would have best liked to continue to ignore it and amuse themselves with better worlds, yet, the inhabitants squawked and so the inhabitants got what they wanted, the attention of the gods who presided over their world, little good that it did them. For, make something of it they did, these god brothers. It became their game board.

As with all worlds, it was rife with human life, some of whom were good, some were bad, most were annoyed by the oddities of life, whether they knew it was due to the influence of the gods or if they knew it not. So, some bowed and scraped and prayed, and some did just as they pleased without thought of anyone else but their family and friends. Some snuck around, as if they could get one over on the gods they believed in, of course; and, some had no idea what anyone else was on about. Whatever the case, whether they knew it or not, they were all pawns for the gods who ruled over them.

Well, to be fair, not all were actually pawns. Some were, instead, kings and queens, knights, bishops, rooks or the closest equivalent thereof. It was not Chess the gods played, but, it bore some resemblance to it and could have, occasionally, been mistaken for it, if it were not for certain very discernible differences, such as it is very seldom that a player stops the game of chess to seduce one of the pieces, light it on fire, or make it marry the wrong person just for laughs.

There were times when, instead, their play with the humans resembled Stratego, more; when they picked out their potential armies and poked and prodded them in their various ways until they formed up on their battlefields and …

“War, beautiful war has broken out, again!”, crowed Dezba, time and time again, as he looked down upon the newly blood-soaked scenery.

This was pleasing information to most of the other god brothers, as well. For where there was war, Abedabun was longed for in all his aspects. What soldier in civilized warfare does not long for the night, the cessation of actual combat and to rest his weary, wounded body before the next onslaught? And, what soldier does not equally hail, gladly, the new dawn that tells him he has lived through another day and gives him hope of change?

And, who does not treasure ever more beauty, love, and the good things that spring from the earth to nourish one, than those who are hemmed in by ugliness,death and deprivation?

Only Absalom grieved over the beginning of what he saw as his process of redemption; yet, even he, though he hated the means, loved the end that the means brought to him, as he was worshiped and lauded for his efforts in returning peace to the land.

Of course, the god brothers had their work and did not spend all their time at their games, but, like with television for some, it was looked forward to as an “end of day” treat, talked over while at work, and, most definitely something to be enjoyed in company with other gods who were invited into their home. What a joy it was to play with Ordem, for these other gods, too, for this was a unique treat. No other group had considered doing such with any of their own worlds, because, in all the worlds that existed, it was only Ordem that was so small and oddly shaped as to almost not be a planet at all.

This left the seven god brothers in a position they were unused to. Because no one had, heretofore, considered creating such a game, the brothers, who, otherwise, tended to be jeered at and mocked at the larger meetings, were spoken of with tones of respect and admiration, and courted by the gods of the other systems, who certainly wanted to play such a game, but, certainly had no world of their own which could be deemed appropriate for such shenanigans.

Not only were their invitations accepted, when sent out, but, other gods began dropping by just to see them, and, invitations began arriving for parties thrown by other systems. And, several goddesses who had previously never considered looking in their direction, now fawned over them, whenever a “chance” meeting occurred.

It was at such a gathering of foreign gods, invited to play the game, wherein the trouble started, which continued to plague the seven god brothers from then, until this day, and, which led to the great cover up.

They had invited their counterparts, from a very distant system, to join in their gaming. Only, the invitation caused some confusion for the system they sent the invitation to was the victim of purposeful gross clerical error caused by someone whose nature was of great evil and whose penchant for common sense and decency was non-existent.

This system only had one viable world, as regards an ability to sustain human life, and it was a world hotly contested already, by gods outside of their race, who were very different beings altogether.

Yet, despite that the system was obviously not meant to be part of the Whole, there had also been assigned to it, several sets of gods from within their race, who had set up their different sorts of governments. This led to gross division of the world, unlike had ever been seen before, for, while a normal system would have several worlds that were each devoted primarily to only one god, this particular world, already owned as it was, came under the care, also, of hundreds of gods, who each worked in conjunction with a few others; but, who were in opposition to, or in ignorance of, the rest.

The invitation, therefore, went out to what the seven god brothers, in their ignorance, thought was a normal system, operating by more rational rules, to the god of light and dark, the god of war, the god of beauty and sensuality, the god of love, the god of the harvest, the god of nature and the god of peace. Seven extra places were set, seven extra meals were prepared, and seven new creatures which the brothers could arrogantly lord it over and beguile with their exceptional game were anticipated.

What showed up was a vast crowd of gods of light, gods of dark, gods of war, gods of beauty, gods of sensuality, gods of love, gods of harvest, gods of sunlight, gods of the underworld, gods who were aspects of nature, gods who thought they were nature itself, and no gods of peace at all.

It is not to be thought that the god brothers did not have a delightful time, amidst this unexpected crowd, for, in the main,they did; even Absalom who felt rather lonely, as the only god of peace in attendance.

“Where is the god of peace?”, Absalom wailed. “Should I be here, all alone?”

“Hah!,” replied Mars, striding toward him with an almost threatening sense of urgency. “There is only one real Prince of Peace, and, he has nothing to do with our kind. But, I shall be glad to fight you in his stead.”

Absalom quailed at the offer, shaking his head in a negatory fashion and backing away. “N-no thank you.”, he replied. “Peace is not really about fighting.”

“That's strange.” challenged Mars. “For I am certain that he is a powerful warrior who could mop the floor with you.”

“Why would he do that if he were a god of peace?” Absalom asked. “Why would war even come into it?”

“War doesn't come into it.” replied Mars. “War is what he wants to get out of it. Err .. that is, he wants it to stop, and he's willing to beat the arse of whomever won't comply, to get it done. Aren't you?”

“Certainly not! Peace is achieved through love, quiet, self control and ..”

“And, occasionally a good arse kicking. Trust me!” bellowed Mars, slapping Absalom on the back in a good natured manner that only fractured two or three ribs on his left side. This effectively ended their conversation, not because Absalom was won over by the reasoning of Mars, but, because Absalom was won over by the reasoning of his own mind, which said:

“If you be very quiet and let him think he won, he might go away.”

In this Absalom's mind was correct, and Mars did saunter away. Much to the delight of the rest of Absalom, this left room for that delightful dish, Aphrodite, to saunter a'near, at which point his mind decided to retire for the night, knowing how little it would be heeded from this moment onward.

Gaming commenced and lasted some time, with lulls in the play only to allow the inhabitants of Ordem to rebuild their numbers. Sometimes, even then, a god would extend attention its way, and shuffle this inhabitant here and that one there, encouraging matches that would breed a better soldier for their side or a better poet for the side of their adversary. During the play, of course, there was much drinking and debauchery, excesses of every kind that did not cause actual death or dismemberment, and every room in the palace was trashed most thoroughly.

The god brothers woke, after a long slumber, to find their home a total wreck, and their faces possessed of an inability to stop smiling. Also, while cleaning, they found something else, quite apart from anything they either feared or hoped to find amidst the clutter. It was a nasty thing, hard to hold, seemingly both too much like the fleshly humans and, yet, also, at times, seemingly without substance at all.

This thing, that seemed to have no true parameters or description, shifted in their grasp and squawled in their ears, and, occasionally, sneezed on their shoes. Dezba wanted to use it for target practice, admitting that such a thing as would shift itself into so many configurations, would be a challenge for even his talents. Abedabun could see both good and bad points to keeping the thing, for whatever reason the others came up with. Sohan wanted to give it to Dezba, simply because it was unable to be qualified as beautiful, with its constant changing from furry and fanged and slobbering, to warty and slimy and scaled, to lightly fronded and full of coconuts, and then some. Callaghan had no use for it, “Except, possibly as fertilizer.” and Earvin felt much the same. Absalom simply wanted it gone, as it was upsetting their household.

Not being able to come to a firm decision among themselves, the seven god brothers went upon their way to the home of the beings from which they had sprung, the Mother and Father, and there inquired as to what was best done with this nasty creature, if, indeed, creature it could truly be called.

Father declined to answer. In point of fact, Father had never answered them, to their memory – and, they being gods, their memory was vast in each of them and even larger when brought into union. Mother's verdict was simple. “It was born of your house. To your house it belongs and with your house it must remain.”

The god brothers were simpler and demanded further explanation. What they received, however, was a heavy smiting for arguing with Mother and the removal of their independence.

“Until you are able to understand your duties and responsibilities, you are godlings, again, under my care.” was the pronouncement of mother, who then moved in to their home, taking the best bedroom in the whole palace and proceeding to set up rules and regulations.

“Why all this over one .. whatever it is?” Abedabun queried. “Is it that important?”

“Is it not,” Mother retorted by her own query, “the only one of its kind?”

“I suppose that is so.” replied Abedabun,”but, everytime a human evacuates its bowels, do they not make something unique unto itself?”

“Yes and no.” said Mother. “Their mess is as unique as you and your brothers. There are others like you, who could take your place, who are made of the same materials. This is something Else.”

“Shouldn't we, then, return it from whence it came?” he cried out. “Surely, one of those strange gods is missing a child or … something?”

“Do you see them coming to reclaim their property or kin?” asked Mother.

“No.” he admitted.

“Then, it is either something they have discarded or that has been left as a gift. Let us raise it up among us and see which it is.”

“What if it is dangerous?” he groused.

“What if you were a god, and not a quailing babe of Ordem?” intoned Mother.

The seven god brothers were not at all pleased with their new family member, or their new circumstances. They were, in fact, the only gods they had ever heard of who, instead of progressing on to other areas of responsibility, had regressed back to the nesting time with Mother. How could they hold their heads up at the meetings? How could they even attend meetings? They could never explain this thing that dwelt in their midst.

However, as fate would have it, the thing that caused them the most public shame was also the thing that caused them the most pleasure. For, like with the game, many gods sought to befriend them in order to come and satisfy their curiosity, to entertain their minds, with this unique little thing that these seven alone, out of all the gods in all the systems, were in possession of.

What with their creature, their game and the rumors about the party they had with some of the gods of the oddest, most foreign system of all, it was all the brothers could do, to get a decent few hours rest in, before returning to gaming, partying or various forms of lewd revelry.

The cover up began in this way: two young, bouyantly shaped goddesses were encouched on a circular sofa, so that the brothers were enwreathed about them, and giggling in that special way that species which are capable of spawning young women, have young women that do.

What the young goddesses were giggling over, particularly, was the shape changing ways of that odd little creature, who dandled on one or more of their knees as it went about its life.

“Oh!” one goddess exclaimed – and it matters not which one, for, as with human females that giggle that way, they were perfectly interchangeable - “Whatever is it?”

“Well,” began more than one god brother at once, “It is .. uhm . .. err ...”

“Where did it come from?”, queried a goddess. “It couldn't have come from the same Mother that made you. It's too exquisite!” she chirped.

This, for reasons that should be obvious, caused a few hurt feelings among the god brothers and a slightly torn rotator cuff of one goddess, as Mother descended upon her and demanded explanation for this rather insulting remark.

“I'm sorry, I'm sure. I didn't mean anything by it, except that I ...”

“You what?” Mother's voice boomed out, shaking the walls of the palace in her fury.

“I only meant that it's so different, and if you could tell me where to get one ..”`

“Why do you want to know where?” queried mother, her eye skewed up in suspicion.

“Then, I could get one, too and wouldn't have to travel so far to ..”

“To what?”, all seven god brothers exclaimed.

“To see it, of course.” she said, gigglingly.

“You mean,” exclaimed Lubomir, “that this entire time, you have only been coming here to see this .. thing?”

“Yes, of course. Just like everyone else, right?” she answered rather naively¹. “I mean, did you really think we all traveled this far out just to see you?” she queried, flashing her wide-eyed stare from one brother to the next. Noticing their blank expressions, she sobered up and gave them sad glances, instead.

“Oh my! You did, didn't you! You big sillies. I mean, of course, it's great fun, coming to your parties, playing with your game, seeing the other gods who I would never even get to rub elbows with, otherwise and especially seeing this darling, but .. well, you are simply not in the same social class, are you?”

She tittered in a way that she hoped would bring corresponding titters at her straight forward ways and heal the breach. Yes, even goddesses can be that dumb. In fact, some would argue that especially goddesses are that dumb; though it is has ever been, and ever shall be, a matter of great debate as to whether they are that dumb because they are goddesses, goddesses because they are that dumb, or if they are only pretending to be that dumb in an effort to make every day, human women pity them so much that they don't tear them down from their pedestals and apart altogether.

The boys were not feeling tittersome. Mother was feeling less so. Though, in her feminine grace she did not, as the god brothers did, blame the thing, when there was a perfectly idiotish goddess to blame, instead.

1Especially naively for a girl who already had a torn rotator cuff from one of her last naïve remarks.

The Life andTimes of Unworld (rough draft, beginning of story)

In the realm of Unworld, there dwelt seven god brothers. There was Abedabun Ryu the god of light and dark, and Dezba Caislav the god of war, and Sohan the god of beauty and sensuality and Lubomir Dotan the god of love and Callaghan the god of the harvest and Earvin Palash Hactithe Halcyon the god of nature and Absalom Garvev the god of peace. Surely other gods resided there, but, these were the gods who ruled over the system of stars wherein lay the little, insignificant world of Ordem.

Ordem was one of many worlds in the system, and had been almost entirely unnoticed during the majority of its existence, even by these, the gods most concerned with its welfare and when they did finally notice it, due to the clamoring of its inhabitants for succor, they wanted nothing to do with it. For, such a world as this, so small, so lacking in art and refinement as it was, could do little to amuse such powerful beings on its own, and, yet, they were honor bound to make something of it, as no world could remain neglected – not after the gods themselves were called on directly - if the gods of the system it belonged to had any hope of being promoted to a better system. And, they did hope to be promoted for this system was the lowest of the lows.

If the upper systems could be likened to Park Place, then this system could be likened to, not so much a tenement slum, but, more the rancid and slurgling ditch full of refuse that lay 100 miles further out than the tenement slum, which no self respecting scavenger would bother with picking through.

The god brothers did not know how or why they ended up with this system, but, they were bound and determined to make something of it, show their abilities off, and move up the ranks to somewhere with more enlightened planet dwellers, who weren't such an awful lot of hard work to deal with.

They would have best liked to continue to ignore it and amuse themselves with better worlds, yet, the inhabitants squawked and so the inhabitants got what they wanted, the attention of the gods who presided over their world, little good that it did them. For, make something of it, they did these god brothers. It became their game board.

As with all worlds, it was rife with human life, some of whom were good, some were bad, most were annoyed by the oddities of life, whether they knew it was due to the influence of the gods or if they knew it not. So, some bowed and scraped and prayed, and some did just as they pleased without thought of anyone else but their family and friends. Some snuck around, as if they could get one over on the gods they believed in, of course; and, some had no idea what anyone else was on about. Whatever the case, whether they knew it or not, they were all pawns for the gods who ruled over them.

Well, to be fair, not all were actually pawns. Some were, instead, kings and queens, knights, bishops, rooks or the closest equivalent thereof. It was not Chess the gods played, but, it bore some resemblance to it and could have, occasionally, been mistaken for it, if it were not for certain very discernible differences, such as it is very seldom that a player stops the game of chess to seduce one of the pieces, light it on fire, or make it marry the wrong person just for laughs.

There were times when, instead, their play with the humans resembled Stratego, more; when they picked out their potential armies and poked and prodded them in their various ways until they formed up on their battlefields and …

“War, beautiful war has broken out, again!”, crowed Dezba, time and time again, as he looked down upon the newly blood-soaked scenery.

This was pleasing information to most of the other god brothers, as well. For where there was war, Abedabun was longed for in all his aspects. What soldier in civilized warfare does not long for the night, the cessation of actual combat and to rest his weary, wounded body before the next onslaught? And, what soldier does not equally hail, gladly, the new dawn that tells him he has lived through another day and gives him hope of change?

And, who does not treasure ever more beauty, love, and the good things that spring from the earth to nourish one, than those who are hemmed in by ugliness,death and deprivation?

Only Absalom grieved over the beginning of what he saw as his process of redemption; yet, even he, though he hated the means, loved the end that the means brought to him, as he was worshiped and lauded for his efforts in returning peace to the land.

Of course, the god brothers had their work and did not spend all their time at their games, but, like with television for some, it was looked forward to as an “end of day” treat, talked over while at work, and, most definitely something to be enjoyed in company with other gods who were invited into their home. What a joy it was to play with Ordem, for these other gods, too, for this was a unique treat. No other group had considered doing such with any of their own worlds, because, in all the worlds that existed, it was only Ordem that was so small and oddly shaped as to almost not be a planet at all.

This left the seven god brothers in a position they were unused to. Because no one had, heretofore, considered creating such a game, the brothers, who, otherwise, tended to be jeered at and mocked at the larger meetings, were spoken of with tones of respect and admiration, and courted by the gods of the other systems, who certainly wanted to play such a game, but, certainly had no world of their own appropriate for such shenanigans.

Not only were their invitations accepted, when sent out, but, other gods began dropping by just to see them, and, invitations began arriving for parties thrown by other systems. And, several goddesses who had previously never considered looking in their direction, now fawned over them, whenever a “chance” meeting occurred.

It was at such a gathering of foreign gods, invited to play the game, wherein the trouble started, which continued to plague the seven god brothers from then, until this day, and, which led to the great cover up.

They had invited their counterparts, from a very distant system, to join in their gaming. Only, the invitation caused some confusion for the system they sent the invitation to was the victim of purposeful gross clerical error caused by someone whose nature was of great evil and whose penchant for common sense and decency was non-existent.

This system only had one viable world, as regards an ability to sustain human life, and it was a world hotly contested already, by gods outside of their race, who were very different beings altogether.

Yet, despite that the system was obviously not meant to be part of the Whole, there had also been assigned to it, several sets of gods from within their race, who had set up their different sorts of governments. This led to gross division of the world, unlike had ever been seen before, for, while a normal system would have several worlds that were each devoted primarly to only one god, this particular world, already owned as it was, came under the care also of hundreds of gods, who worked in conjunction with a few others, but, who were in opposition to, or in ignorance of, the rest.

The invitation, therefore, went out to what the seven god brothers, in their ignorance, thought was a normal system, operating by more rational rules, to the god of light and dark, the god of war, the god of beauty and sensuality, the god of love, the god of the harvest, the god of nature and the god of peace. Seven extra places were set, seven extra meals were prepared, and seven new creatures which the brothers could arrogantly lord it over and beguile with their exceptional game were anticipated.

What showed up was a vast crowd of gods of light, gods of dark, gods of war, gods of beauty, gods of sensuality, gods of love, gods of harvest, gods of sunlight, gods of the underworld, gods who were aspects of nature, gods who thought they were nature itself, and no gods of peace at all.

It is not to be thought that the god brothers did not have a delightful time, amidst this unexpected crowd, for, in the main,they did, even Absalom who felt rather lonely, as the only god of peace in attendance.

“Where is the god of peace?”, Absalom wailed. “Should I be here, all alone?”

“Hah!,” replied Mars, striding toward him with an almost threatening sense of urgency. “There is only one real Prince of Peace, and, he has nothing to do with our kind. But, I shall be glad to fight you in his stead.”

Absalom quailed at the offer, shaking his head in a negatory fashion and backing away. “N-no thank you.”, he replied. “Peace is not really about fighting.”

“That's strange.” challenged Mars. “For I am certain that he is a powerful warrior who could mop the floor with you.”

“Why would he do that if he were a god of peace?” Absalom asked. “Why would war even come into it?”

“War doesn't come into it.” replied Mars. “War is what he wants to get out of it. Err .. that is, he wants it to stop, and he's willing to beat the arse of whomever won't comply, to get it done. Aren't you?”

“Certainly not! Peace is achieved through love, quiet, self control and ..”

“And, occasionally a good arse kicking. Trust me!” bellowed Mars, slapping Absalom on the back in a good natured manner that only fractured two or three ribs on his left side. This effectively ended their conversation, not because Absalom was won over by the reasoning of Mars, but, because Absalom was won over by the reasoning of his own mind, which said:

“If you be very quiet and let him think he won, he might go away.”

In this Absalom's mind was correct, and Mars did saunter away. Much to the delight of the rest of Absalom, this left room for that delightful dish, Aphrodite, to saunter a'near, at which point his mind decided to retire for the night, knowing how little it would be heeded from this moment onward.

Gaming commenced and lasted some time, with lulls in the play only to allow the inhabitants of Ordem to rebuild their numbers. Sometimes, even then, a god would extend attention its way, and shuffle this inhabitant here and that one there, encouraging matches that would breed a better soldier for their side or a better poet for the side of their adversary. During the play, of course, there was much drinking and debauchery, excesses of every kind that did not cause actual death or dismemberment, and every room in the palace was trashed most thoroughly.

The god brothers woke, after a long slumber, to find their home a total wreck, and their faces possessed of an inability to stop smiling. Also, while cleaning, they found something else, quite apart from anything they either feared or hoped to find amidst the clutter. It was a nasty thing, hard to hold, seemingly both too much like the fleshly humans and, yet, also without substance at all.

This thing, that seemed to have no true parameters or description, shifted in their grasp and squawled in their ears, and, occasionally, sneezed on their shoes. Dezba wanted to use it for target practice, admitting that such a thing as would shift itself into so many configurations, would be a challenge for even his talents. Abedabun could see both good and bad points to keeping the thing, for whatever reason the others came up with. Sohan wanted to give it to Dezba, simply because it was unable to be qualified as beautiful, with its constant changing from furry and fanged and slobbering, to warty and slimy and scaled, to lightly fronded and full of coconuts, and then some. Callaghan had no use for it, “Except, possibly as fertilizer.” and Earvin felt much the same. Absalom simply wanted it gone, as it was upsetting their household.

Not being able to come to a firm decision among themselves, the seven god brothers went upon their way to the home of the beings from which they had sprung, the Mother and Father, and there inquired as to what was best done with this nasty creature, if, indeed, creature it could truly be called.

Father declined to answer. In point of fact, Father had never answered them, to their memory – and, they being gods, their memory was vast in each of them and even larger when brought into union. Mother's verdict was simple. “It was born of your house. To your house it belongs and with your house it must remain.”

The god brothers were simpler and demanded further explanation. What they received, however, was a heavy smiting for arguing with Mother and the removal of their independence.

“Until you are able to understand your duties and responsibilities, you are godlings, again, under my care.” was the pronouncement of mother, who then moved in to their home, taking the best bedroom in the whole palace and proceeding to set up rules and regulations.

“Why all this over one .. whatever it is?” Abedabun queried. “Is it that important?”

“Is it not,” Mother retorted by her own query, “the only one of its kind?”

“I suppose that is so.” replied Abedabun,”but, everytime a human evacuates its bowels, do they not make something unique unto itself?”

“Yes and no.” said Mother. “Their mess is as unique as you and your brothers. There are others like you, who could take your place, who are made of the same materials. This is something Else.”

“Shouldn't we, then, return it from whence it came?” he cried out. “Surely, one of those strange gods is missing a child or … something?”

“Do you see them coming to reclaim their property or kin?” asked Mother.

“No.” he admitted.

“Then, it is either something they have discarded or that has been left as a gift. Let us raise it up among us and see which it is.”

“What if it is dangerous?” he groused.

“What if you were a god, and not a quailing babe of Ordem?” intoned Mother.

The seven god brothers were not at all pleased with their new family member, or their new circumstances. They were, in fact, the only gods they had ever heard of who, instead of progressing on to other areas of responsibility, had regressed back to the nesting time with Mother. How could they hold their heads up at the meetings? How could they even attend meetings? They could never explain this thing that dwelt in their midst.

However, as fate would have it, the thing that caused them the most public shame was also the thing that caused them the most pleasure. For, like with the game, many gods sought to befriend them in order to come and satisfy their curiosity, to entertain their minds, with this unique little thing that these seven alone, out of all the gods in all the systems, were in possession of.

What with their creature, their game and the rumors about the party they had with some of the gods of the oddest, most foreign system of all, it was all the brothers could do, to get a decent few hours rest in, before returning to gaming, partying or various forms of lewd revelry.

The cover up began in this way: two young, bouyantly shaped goddesses were encouched on a circular sofa, so that the brothers were enwreathed about them, and giggling in that special way that species which are capable of spawing young women, have young women that do.

What the young goddesses were giggling over, particularly, was the shape changing ways of that odd little creature, who dandled on one or more of their knees as it went about its life.

“Oh!” one goddess exclaimed – and it matters not which one, for, as with human females that giggle that way, they were perfectly interchangeable - “Whatever is it?”

“Well,” began more than one god brother at once, “It is .. uhm . .. err ...”

“Where did it come from?”, queried a goddess. “It couldn't have come from the same Mother that made you. It's too exquisite!” she chirped.

This, for reasons that should be obvious, caused a few hurt feelings among the god brothers and a slightly torn rotator cuff of one goddess, as Mother descended upon her and demanded explanation for this rather insulting remark.

“I'm sorry, I'm sure. I didn't mean anything by it, except that I ...”

“You what?” Mother's voice boomed out, shaking the walls of the palace in her fury.

“I only meant that it's so different, and if you could tell me where to get one ..”`

“Why do you want to know where?” queried mother, her eye skewed up in suspicion.

“Then, I could get one, too and wouldn't have to travel so far to ..”

“To what?”, all seven god brothers exclaimed.

“To see it, of course.” she said, gigglingly.

“You mean,” exclaimed Lubomir, “that this entire time, you have only been coming here to see this .. thing?”

“Yes, of course. Just like everyone else, right?” she answered rather naively¹. “I mean, did you really think we all traveled this far out just to see you?” she queried, flashing her wide-eyed stare from one brother to the next. Noticing their blank expressions, she sobered up and gave them sad glances, intead.

“Oh my! You did, didn't you! You big sillies. I mean, of course, it's great fun, coming to your parties, playing with your game, seeing the other gods who I would never even get to rub elbows with, otherwise and especially seeing this darling, but .. well, you are simply not in the same social class, are you?”

She tittered in a way that she hoped would bring corresponding titters at her straight forward ways and heal the breach. Yes, even goddesses can be that dumb. In fact, some would argue that especially goddesses are that dumb; though it is has ever been, and ever shall be, a matter of great debate as to whether they are that dumb because they are goddesses, goddesses because they are that dumb, or if they are only pretending to be that dumb in an effort to make every day, human women pity them so much that they don't tear them down from their pedestals and apart altogether.

The boys were not feeling tittersome. Mother was feeling less so. Though, in her feminine grace she did not, as the god brothers did, blame the thing, when there was a perfectly idiotish goddess to blame, instead.

1Especially naively for a girl who already had a torn rotator cuff from one of her last naïve remarks.

Where most Dommes fail

Prostitution is not limited to sexual intercourse, but may involve any lewd act between people done for money or other forms of payment. To constitute prostitution under  criminal law, money or the "payment" must be paid for the specific purpose of sexual arousal or gratification.  
  
" a person must have the "specific intent" to engage in prostitution."


A lewd or lascivious act under Penal Code Section 288 is committed when:

(1) A person willfully and lewdly commits any lewd or lascivious act, including offenses defined in Part One of the Penal Code; 
 
(2) The person commits the act on or with the body or any part of the body of a child less than 14 years old; and
 
(3) The person commits the act with the intent of arousing, appealing to, or gratifying the lust or passions or sexual desires of that person or of the child.


Now, almost all dommes claim that they are not whores, but, almost all dommes are - as the title domme implies- dominatrixes, and a dominatrix is defined as a person who sexually dominates another person; and, almost all of them expect to be given tribute, paid a salary, given gifts, or paid for their time during which these acts of sexual domination are committed. Many of the acts involve forcing men to have sex with each other, wear chastity devices and teasing them while they do so, forcing them to perform oral sex on the domme, etc. 


In other words, they are taking money to perform lewd and lacivious acts. So they are prostitutes, claiming not to be prostitutes; which means, they are not even capable of discerning their own nature, of being truthful with themselves, and, yet, they expect others to trust their dominance? They have no dominance, whether they can dominate sexually or no. They are only whores, offering their bodies and the degradation of their souls, to make money. They sell themselves, cheaply, for the amusement of the men who they whore themselves out to. 


A truly dominant female does not whore herself out. Or, at least, if she does, she acknowledges it as what she is, what she is doing and what she desires to keep doing. 

Once Upon a Dream (rough draft)

Prologue to ‘Once Upon A Reality’

Prologue: Once Upon A Dream

Angela was a girl who tended to have vivid, troublesome dreams but the night when one barked behind her back for a good half hour and then bit her, she decided it was time to tell her parents.

"Oh mother dearest," she said in her sweetest voice "I seem to have been rather badly bitten by a growling dream in a studded collar. I don't think he liked the way I meowed so at the moon."

All of this was quite truthful, and empathetic, of her, as indeed the dream did not like the way she meowed at all, at the moon or otherwise. Although, if the dream's owner had been asked what he was, the reply would have been "A dog!" Or, more likely it would have been "Get away from me, idiot! Anyone can see it's a dog." As both answers are much alike, however, we shall leave the matter lay.

If the dream had been asked what it was he would have likewise replied that it was a dog and this would have been just as trutfhul, by his perceptions, though, in fact, he would have thought you were asking about his owner. For the dream had never quite gotten the knack of the English, or any human, language as the structure is quite odd compared to the thinking patterns of his race and so whenever the owner would say "Come on doggy, wanna go for a walk?" he was quite sure it was a plea, not a command or offer.
"Come on! " the dog would plead in it's cutesy voice "Doggy wanna go for a walk! Shall owner take doggy for a walk?" and he, the dream aka: Owner, would generally bark his assent.


Angela's mother knew nothing about the dream, the owner, language barriers as they related to canines, or what was wrong with her daughter, though she suspected it was a lot. For while her daughter was most certainly bleeding and looked a bit chewed on, all the dogs were out in the yard on their chains as they had been every night, since the great chicken escapades of 1974 and they certainly would have let it be known if another had come slinking around.

The kitten , whom the dream had really been barking at, knew who everyone was; laughed mockingly at the stupidity of both dogs and owners of the same; and was sure as to exactly what was wrong with Angela. In fact, what was wrong with Angela Erskine Gracile was as well taught in the kitten schools throughout the world as once had been taught what was wrong with Joan of Arc and, of course, what was wrong with Napoleon. Which is only fitting, if you think about it, since they were all, strangely enough, the same person. Though, even more strangely, something was even wronger with Angela as she had utterly failed to be born as French.

The kitten peered through the portal to the bed where the girl had lain so recently and twitched it's ears back as it thought with displeasure of her having disturbed his taunting of the dog by rolling over, falling out of bed on top of them both, and then running away. "Humans!" thought the kitten. "You can't live with them and yet good help is so hard to find."

Turning back to the dog, he meowed up at the moon once more, meowed a more tittering tone at the hound's face, and pounced through the portal right before it's closure.

"Oh I say" said Mrs. Erskine "It was no dream that bit you, Angie dear. Look here: it's a nice little Tabby cat hiding in your room! Now how did it get there?"

Mrs. Erskine carried the kitten into the living room and sat in her rocking chair, sighing with relief. "It wasn't her that done that to herself, Tabby," she crooned, petting the cat though it was obvious to them both that she did it for her own comfort. "You must have been scared, being alone in a strange house, and she must have rolled off the bed on top of you. Then you gave her a scratch or maybe a bite." Mrs. Erskine thought again of the amount of blood and the deepness of the wounds and her mind started to reject her theory so she quickly interpolated, before the damage could be done: "Or both! It must have been both. My you'll be a mighty mouse hunter with such a bite to you already!"

"Yes, idiot human female, " thought the kitten who had the misfortune of recently being named Tabby "I have the same bite circumference as a 210 pound Mastiff named Frankie."

"Yes, " thought Frankie, having noted the absence of the kitten. "I hope it's picked up by some nice dog who will take it to the special place where they like to have their owners genitals snipped off. Not only that but I hope they name it something stupid like 'Tabby'. "

In this reality, Frankie's hope was realized and so we bid adeiu to the dream that started us off and jouney deeper in to the place where the strangeness beyond the madness of dreams lays.