Pushed Pixel

“I’m gonna watch them pass me by Maybe when I’m older. What do you think I’d see If I could walk away from me?”
-Lou Reed “Candy Says”

It’s only March and I’m dreaming of Summer. Possible coming from
impossibility. It always held such promise when I was younger and in school,where house parties like the one in the “1979” music video happened every night.

Damn you Smashing Pumpkins for making my teenage years seem so dull. I dream of his voice, even though I’ve yet to hear it. I dream of it the way I dreamt of becoming a rock star.

Every night.

I want him to put effort into me. Send me a package, prove to my abused and barely held together heart that I matter. I want to send him back my zines, maybe then he’d see. See he’s got The Hope Diamond in miniature, from a gum ball machine. I want him to hold my words in his hands. More than I’ve wanted anyone to have them.

I was wandering through the subway terminal. Lou Reed sings to me in my earbud. I’m singing back. Softly, subtle. Maybe PunkDaddy can hear me sing. Daddies are like gods right? I struck out and I have Dionysus.

Lucky me.

I need reassurance. I need PunkDaddy. He and I are cut from the same cloth. Even thinking that makes me ache somewhere low in my body. I need him to hold me and make me feel precious like I’m his neon lit Courtney Love wearing a crown of orchids. Only he gets me this way. 20 years, I’ve been searching for him. Praying on the prayer candles at the Dominican church near my apartment , rubbing Buddha’s belly.


Anything at all to get him. He made me feel perfect. I wanted to talk him into spending the summer with me. I want us to have the endless summer I’ve wanted since I graduated high school. I pictured dragging him to Thailand where I’ll make love to him because I’m a sacred whore. I want to feel the summer air caress my skin as we drive Vegas ala Fear and Loathing. I just want him. He gives my punk cunt meaning. I don’t want to remember not being Lacie Pixel.

“I fucking hate you.” I growled as Callum’s hands trailed along the curve of my hip.

“No, you love me.” He sounded so sure, I wanted to smack him, but he was
right. I loved this man.

“I fucking hate that you can do this to me.” My voice was betraying my

“Closer to the truth Lacie.” He said with a dark and mysterious chuckle.

A month ago I didn’t know Callum, I’d seen him around but that was it. A month ago I was a single girl, definitely not wanting for a collar. A month ago I went by my given name which is Ren. Then I met him.

After that first night it felt like I couldn’t breathe without him. Imagine
my shock when he told me he felt the same way. Somehow I’d gotten used to Dominants not showing much love or pride in having a submissive. I did, and Dante did but, too many did not. Yes, I am a Dominant woman and yes I’m aware I’m submitting to a Dominant man.

The irony is delicious.

And not lost on me as he shoves a rather chilly but lubed buttplug in my ass. He’s holding me with one arm and yet I can’t move. I feel bound up completely. Amazing how he does this. I squirm and feign trying to escape, it’s half of the fun. His hand reaches up and he strokes the side of my face. My heart flutter then on the down stroke his hand slapped my face. I loved it.

“So soon and I’m all ready his.” I thought as his hand went to my neck.

Callum’s teeth found my flesh and my harlot’s moan echoed through out the room. His teeth pressed and he chewed my creamy white flesh.

He was marking me.

Related Posts

Exile in Smutville © All Right Reserved