by | | Fifty Shades of Bleach
The long awaited installment of Fifty Shades of Urahara is here!
‘I see.. you are in love with Yoruichi…Well, Yoruichi belongs to me. Technically, you belong to me too.’ Urahara said.
‘No! You bastard, Yoruichi only belongs to me!’ Soi Fong replied.
Yoruichi belongs… Yoruichi belongs…? I belong to no one, thought Yoruichi. A smile crept onto her face as she listened to the exchange between Urahara and Soi Fun on the other side of the closed fusuma.
Through the thin paper doors she could make out the scene being acted in Urahara’s living room beyond. A figure wrestled against tight bonds that held it strapped helplessly to the table. Another silhouetted figure, lean and cat-like, paced around the captive. She could imagine Urahara’s eyes deep and cruel contemplating his helpless victim. She had found herself bound and helpless in front of Urahara once before, under the red blinding ropes of the Crimson Princess.
Now Soi Fun was under those tight red ropes. She can’t help but feel slightly turned on at the fact her little disciple was now being bound by her master. She recalled those cold, cruel eyes of Urahara,. She knew their power… and their promise.
‘Stop struggling! Remember what I told you about the ropes: they will constrict you the more you struggle.’ Urahara’s voice was cold and mocking, a hint of amusement at Soi Fong’s predicament evident. ‘I did agree to share Yoruichi with you, didn’t I?’
‘Share! With you? You manipulative jerk…!’
That was a mistake for Soi Fong to say. Of course, Soi Fong was a unrelenting and a stubborn girl. She always wanted to get her way with things. She was tempted to wait a while, see what the outcome of what Soi Fong’s rash words would be. But Yoruichi had heard enough.
Captive and captor turned toward her at the sound of the fusuma being open.
(Enter Yoruichi)
‘I see, so you two are getting down to business.’
‘It’s not what it looks Lady Yoruichi!’ Soi Fon screamed through the red rope blinding her onto the wooden table in the middle of the room. ‘That pervert Kisuke Urahara did this!’
‘My, my, Soi Fon, then you should never have provoked him. So… I guess you deserved it.’ Like a cat, Yoruichi licked the back of her hands with her pointed tongue and turned her eyes on Soi Fon’s tormentor.
‘Yoruichi.’ In an instant quicker than a flash of light, Urahara produced his fan, flicked it open in front of his mouth and bowed his head towards her. Shaded now under his striped green and white hat, his eyes contemplated her respectfully. For a moment, they held each other and she caught the still glowing embers of the fire of cruelty Soi Fong must have endured only moments before. ‘It’s a surprise that you came, I was wondering where you disappeared to for so long.’
‘I told Soi Fon to give you a letter. I am here to make sure she carried out my command.’
‘The letter..’ In one swift movement Urahara reached into the sleeve of his yukata and pulled out an envelope. ‘It’s here. It says that I have to report to the Soul Society…’
‘It is very dangerous for you to back there. I came back urgently to tell you this. I never expected this turn of events. You have to be prepared. You may never return to the human world.’
‘So you are here for what… to see me off?’
‘To wish you well. And to give you a few special gifts that will help you… but before that… you understand this may be our last time?’ With a brief mocking glance down at Soi Fon, Yoruichi fixed Urahara with her eyes and strode towards him.
She had missed him, and she had done everything to save him from soul society, to the safety of the human world. But she knew, right now, at this stage of the battle above, he is needed, or their worlds may not exist anymore. Urahara was needed, for this final battle.
This may be their last moment together.. before the big battle starts. She raised a finger, traced her claw-like nail it down his cheek and across his lips. ‘… to kiss.” Then she leaned close and rested her lips against his mouth, breathing his musky scent in, sending her memories into their childhood, sparring in the underworld. Hmmm… he was the one, her one and only childhood best friend, sparing mate, and one true love. He relented, parting his, as she knew he would, then she kissed him with the passion of a fallen princess, who had sacrificed her throne to be with this lowly peasant… their love transcending societal strictures…
She breathed in the sound of his warm breath, as his heartbeat vibrated against her chest. The struggling screams of Soi Fon wrestling against her bonds reached her ears. Then her whining voice.
‘Stop kissing him! It’s so gross!’ Soi Fon screamed. “That pervert Urahara is a low caste rat, a peasant. The Princess Yoruichi should not kiss a low-life form such as that!”
‘Silence!’ Yoruichi broke off her kiss with Urahara and snapped her head sideways. She glared down at Soi Fon. “I have had enough of your nasty attitude and your foul mouth. You were nothing before I made you my prote?ge? and raised you to be Captain of the Division, I this how you reward me by behaving like a spoilt child.”
With a final lingering glance into Urahara’s deep eyes, she turned. Would that be their final kiss? The last moment of intimacy they might ever share? If it was, then that precious moment had been cruelly cut short by the behaviour of an insolent child. And the child must learn if she is not to repeat her mistake.
Yoruichi ran her nail over the naked skin of Soi Fon’s thigh that bulged from the spaces between the tight fronds that bound it.
‘The Crimson Princess is all over your skin, how does that feel?’
‘Argh! Ask that pervert to let me go!’
‘It’s so tight now, because you have been struggling, trust me, I have been under those ropes before.’
‘My Lady Yoruichi? Under his dirty red ropes!? I am going to kill that jerk!’
‘Ladies! Such a noise, such protestations!’ Urahara fanned himself uneasily, his face unreadable as he covered his expression with his fan and glowered sinisterly from under his hat. ‘Yoruichi, I suggest you punish your prote?ge?, or I will blind you beside her.”
‘I do mean to punish her.’ Yoruichi folded her arms and faced Soi Fon. ‘Very well, then let the entertainment begin.’
….
Written by Averral
Edited by J
Inspired by Bleach, Tite Kubo
by | | Features
I will be publishing these shorter works on Amazon during the next few months, targeting at one per month.
Finished Projects
The Goddess – 5000 words short story
The Chase – five poems love story
The Torment – dark love poetry
The Little Black Book – ten poems morbid poetry
Rope Bondage Compilation – short pieces about bondage
Uncompleted Projects
Brother and I – controversial
Butterfly – controversial
by | | Her
There is so much to do and there is so little time. Increasingly, I find myself a little overwhelmed by emails. A Google Apps Statistics summary for my email account at thescarletqueen.com to have received 1000 emails for the month of November.
I have decided to use Zoho Project Management instead of Thrive Solo. I still use Google Keep on the side for my To Do List. I am way behind schedule and I will be working overtime this month. One shift in the office, and another shift at home. I don’t want to take any more holidays. I am officially quite sick of traveling after having traveling every other month last year due to low fuel prices. What I really want to do right now is finish my half completed projects and start my marathon novel writing for The Ocra.
I might change the name of the sequel to something more catchy like Blue Ocra. I don’t know. For the Red Hourglass it was quite obvious to me when I read up about the deadly black widow spider while in Australia and I wondered how cool it would be if I could write a book about female agents who kill to serve.
I had hopes for filming with a green screen but the light bulbs that came in seem to be not working, if powered incorrectly it could potentially short circuit the building as the lighting equipment is of a extremely high voltage.
I feel quite refreshed coming back from Japan. But Japan is not a place I would like to stay in. I missed my flight as someone committed suicide right at 5.45pm downtown Osaka, halting the airport express train I was on. The media does not report suicide cases. What followed was a nightmare race against time taking local trains that has no English directions. Fortunately, we did reach the flight counter but we were 15 minutes too late and the gates had closed.
Staying in no mans land near Kansai Airport in Osaka for the next flight out was a novel experience. There was a convenience store under the hotel and every hotel in Japan. I got a bowl of fresh packaged ramen, which they microwaved on the spot. When I opened it, there was a piece of plastic at the bottom of the soup and noodles. I took the plastic out and wondered if I stay in Japan long enough would I become another robot humanoid like the girl in movie Cloud Atlas. To entertain myself, I bought a cat magazine that only featured kittens. On the television, was a show about cats on the Cat Island of Japan, featuring a cute girl in her twenties chasing and cooing them to come out to pet them and feed them with munchies while she talked to the locals.
A movie scene out of Cloud Atlas
The difference is we don’t have metallic collars like those girls in the picture above. But it would be cool to wear one as a fashion accessory. However, in the movie, the metallic collars can puncture their necks when they misbehave. Basically it’s a collar that kills. Looking at the picture, I miss being conformist by doing whatever other people are doing and queuing up in straight long lines obediently and their super clean streets and orderly lifestyles. For now I have to resort to being individualistic, messy and disorganized. But creative.
by | | Random
Leaving Tokyo after five days of non stop stimuli. Comiket was an eye opener on Japanese manga production and distribution. Indie authors set up booths to sell their work and network with publishers. I was personally attracted to the unique customized little print books. I bought a little seasons print book which is the size of my thumb. They are not mass printed and can only be bought from the creators themselves who make and sew the books.
When I purchased their merchandise, I feel I am supporting their artistic creations in a small way. Maybe one day they will become world famous, but for now they have a little wooden table that they set up once a year to meet prospective buyers and their fans. I got some folders and key chains. I saw a cat comic ezine using real pictures of cats infused with comic style dialogue and I just had to buy one for 500 Yen.
I love and hate Tokyo. I love visiting here but I don’t like the claustrophobia that comes with being in such a highly congested city. There is almost no personal privacy – there are people everywhere. No hidden nooks, everything I do including typing this post on my phone is in full view of everyone. The moment I speak in English they know I am a foreigner and they hand me an English menu and greet me in English.
The distinctions between age, gender and districts is so apparent that it is totally opposite to what I prefer which is a classless society like Australia. Men and women behave in total different ways and the answers are always expected. I noticed they announce the closing time to no one but just by talking to mid air – it is a daily habit and part of their job procedure and they follow the “automation” process by doing their job. It can get really weird. My taxi driver made his own sounds by announcing “cho cho cho” when reversing as his car did not have the reverse sound. When a girl dropped her phone she made an announcement by remarking, “oh oh oh!”. Not to forget, entering and exiting even the most tiniest restaurant is always followed by a loud announcement greeting. I jumped a few times because the directed attention is so awkward but I am used to it now.
The train is still announcing stops and instructions. There are signs everywhere on what to do and what not to do. “Please switch your mobile phone to silent mode,” the instruction behind the chair says.
I think if I stay here long enough, the rigid-ness and procedures will drive me insane. I believe Japan is a war state and they are geared this way due to their history of warring for limited agricultural land. They had to have a subservient class of peasants who will do what the Master says. Hence, written instructions and laws began. Now, with modernization, the culture hasn’t changed but the execution of obedience now is more so in the daily lives of people.
It’s amazing how there can be no dustbins and the streets have no litter in Tokyo. The public toilets in the train stations are magically clean. The populace is in a state of massive obedience to the law at the expense of their own personal individualism by being considerate to others around them.
Time to munch on my chocolate cake with an extra “gift” of a wet disposal towel from the convenience shop in case my mouth is smudged with chocolate sauce…
by | | FlashFiction
My fondest memory of Japan is visiting Disneyland with my parents when I was nine years old. On the space mountain ride, I discovered my subspace. The weightless feeling of being suspended in midair by motion. The helplessness of being unable to control my fate.
The roller coaster is moving faster than the speed of light in pitch black darkness only lighted by stars. I felt empowered after the ride. I had been through the depths of sub space and back, what else is there to fear? Since then I was a thrill seeker for that adrenaline rush to free my body into that state of nothingness. In the Shinkansen writing this, I am reminded of the motion of being in a fast speed vehicle. The sounds are deafening on both sides as the landscapes are waving past in blurry vision.
Still, the Shinkansen isn’t my space mountain. My sub space now belongs to the realm of total power transfer to the master that I trust. Only he can lift me into those heights that defies gravity in his usage of suspension of ropes and control over my mind. This has been the state that I used to over come my fears to transcend from my ego to self. I still had not fully comprehend the usage of this complicated ritual of power transfer synergy in my relationships with men. But I believe it is possible, even for a brief moment of bliss. Everything else in the journey towards that sub bliss space is worth it.
The freedom that comes with weightlessness is like being suspended in two states – the state of gravity and anti gravity. In this state, there is zero pain. The usual body aches melts into liquid wax. The fears and doubts in the mind dissipate into emptiness. My spirit is united with the heavens again. I hear my name even more clearly now. My purpose grows stronger with revelation in the suspended state.
I recalled sweating all over in cold sweat after the space mountain ride. I had never experienced something like this before. How can I recreate it when I leave Disneyland forever? I found my answer with trusting my mind to men who could overpower my will. That backfired, and I lost my will for many years after an abuse on trust. Instead, I imposed my will on others and made them my submissive so I can relish in my control of their minds and bodies.
The more addicted I grew to the sensation of control, the colder I became and the more numb I felt. There was the other part of me that desired to be controlled as well but it wasn’t fulfilled. My revelations unfolded very slowly. Failed relationships after failed relationships. No one can figure out what I needed or wanted. Neither could I. I am but a vast void that no matter how much love was showered upon me, I could never feel loved.
The duality of my conflicting needs began to set into a rift and constant struggle for me to dominate or be dominated. I found every opportunity to enact these secret desires by going for gym classes that I wasn’t good in to be verbally abused by ex army sergeants, or by simply killing all my opponents mercilessly in a good game of left for dead and getting the highest scores.
I did all these subconscious things before I was even aware of doing them. I had no clue what was wrong. I just wanted my subspace, and no one seemed to be able to understand that desire of my void lies with my problem with control.
I still have not found my answers and I am still seeking for them as I transverse from Osaka to Tokyo on this high speed bullet train. The endless travels around the world this year had given me no answers to this fundamental need that is still left unfulfilled. I am on the quest on my next adventure to find that sub space once again.
by | | FlashFiction
by | | Dance, Random
I am walking and dancing as I walked through the office building complex. I ordered my coffee and flipped my wrist like a bachata movement like how a girl lays her hand on the shoulder of her partner. But there is no partner holding me. I am holding my wallet and taking out notes to hand it over to the outreached hands of the lady at the counter. I flipped my hand backwards as I zipped to close my wallet like another dance move before slipping it back into my bag. I glided a cross the floor to the music of Prince Royce singing in my mind as I picked up the warm coffee paper cup. As I opened the glass doors, I am pushing into a spin outwards towards the open air alfresco area. My feet start to move to the rhythm of the bachata music in my head, as I spin in circles and walked on pavements after pavements, up and down the stairs. To the security counter, to the automated elevators. I am working to the music and my movements are no longer under my control. My body is responding to the music, and the music had conquered my soul. As I wrote my email replies I moved my fingers to the music like tiny dance steps walking on the keyboard. I spin my chair and reached outwards to grab a glass to fill it with water. I am one with the dance and music through all my actions and even writing this.
by | | Her, Transformation
The moment of bliss is when time stops and it’s in that sweet perfect spot where all else doesn’t matter. The chatter becomes quiet and all is silent. The bliss spot.
The bliss hits when I am on the dance floor. My favourite song goes on and I am lost in the music. I am swaying to the beat, the music has entered my soul, and I am the slave to the beats that controls my body. Time has stopped and my body is moving. I have no sense of awareness. The sensory overload had overtaken my nerve endings. I am lost, lost and lost once again. I am so alive, alive and alive again. My body is screaming to move every muscle and cell. It’s screaming to let free. I break into a frenzied dance.
This is the bliss, the movement, the aliveness, the awareness. The moment of time where is lost, and lost and lost. I am screaming through my body movements. My soul is dying to break free through my skin. It calls out to the music as it explodes to the rhythm.
Right now, when I am writing this, my brain is in an overdrive. I love dancing and writing about dancing. It’s a contradiction. One requires movements and the other requires mental processes. But maybe dancing and writing are the same and it’s an expression of my soul wanting to be heard and seen for who I am. My bliss is in writing and dancing. In movement and analysis. In these paradoxical conflict. I love this zone. This is where I am finally able to connect to my soul.
My soul feels so alive now after dancing so much. I feel like writing pages after pages of never ending love stories. I want to write and dance endlessly as long I am in this body. My body serves to express my soul song. This is my dance. This is my writing. This is my bliss.
by | | Random
“Kiss me this way,” he whispered as he gently nudged my lips open with his tongue as he swirled around to meet my tongue against his. “Follow me,” he said as his minty breath exhaled into my chest. I breathe him in everyday, and the days after since we last kissed at the river at dusk. It all happened like it was yesterday as I watch other couples standing by the edge of the water feature of a casino resort doing exactly the same. I dream of kissing my lover under water as we twirl against each other submerging into the crystal depths. We are both fully nude in a lovers embrace as we sink deeper and deeper to a place that no one knows where we are. Twirling and embracing in circles after circles. While we twirl and tug against each other with the strength of our tongues in the depths, my long hair wraps us into a black cocoon. We are breathless and finally conjoined as one entity. In our metamorphosis, we finally meet at the heavens bridge that connected the dream world and the real world. On that red bridge, he finally appeared to me as my knight kneeling on one knee. It was a proposal. A proposal to be conjoined together for this lifetime. Accepting the golden key in his hands, I tied it to my necklace. From this black cocoon, we merged together as butterflies.
We are finally free at last.
by | | Her, Transformation
Last night and today, I wept and smiled to myself. I am not drunk, on drugs or anything. I am just feeling what I am feeling and letting it go. I used to stop myself from crying and rewire my brain to stay focused on work or distractions. Now, when I want to tear, I just let the tears flow. I am not sad, I am just letting go. These tears want to flow. I am in peace. It’s an entirely new experience to feel peaceful while tears roll down my cheeks. I am in grief, but I am free.
Last night I dreamt of my first love in my teenage years. For years I had avoided him and went to the extent of telling him I hated him. Our love was pure and wholesome. We were two teenagers lost in each other arms as we watched movies after movies after weekends after weekends and we spent time in arcades and lan shops playing computer games.
His parents were doctorate holders who studied in the states on scholarships. He was the only son, and the great great grand nephew of the author who wrote the “A Letter to My Wife” whom sacrificed his life to overthrow the monarchy in China. He was Taiwanese. He would share stories after stories of how his grandfather escaped by boat from the communist to Taiwan and left their wealth and businesses behind. He would share stories of how his distant ancestors were advisers to the Emperor of China.
He would send me hundreds of black and white text messages throughout the day when smartphones did not exist. He would hug me till our friends made fun of us being intimate in public. He talked marriage once we turned 21 and his dreams to be scientist and get his doctorate. He talked about working in laboratories with rats for his internship. He would include me in every step of his path and he wished for me to be dependent on him and not study. I know, this is the part now. He did not want me to have any ambition. He preferred me to be subservient to him and all his wishes. He had a strong opinion of being a provider.
It did not work out for both of us as I had my own ambitions and plans to be more than just his wife. We split after years of being bonded in every aspect. I dreamt of him last night and all our happy times walking by a pond with mandarin ducks swimming in pairs and watching the fireworks on Taipei 101 building. I recalled the way he would sweetly call his mum “mama” in a childish way even in front of all our friends who made fun of him being so soft.
I recalled him calling me by my Chinese name and refusing to call me by my English name. I recalled all these beautiful aspects of our relationship although I hated him for years for trying to suppress my interests and dreams by insisting I should follow him, and listen to him. He would always insist he was smarter than I am because of his genetics. I used to hold so much grudges against that I had to score well academically and go to university precisely because he was always belittling my intelligence.
Now, I finally let that all go and saw for once he loved me for who I was and he was the only person in my life whom I did consider spending the remaining dying days with. I could listen to his stories all day. His sincerity in his words, and his tenderness in his touch. I loved his brilliance, his gentleness. His chauvinism (as much as I disliked it as well). He was my soul mate, my love and my everything. For years and years, I never loved anyone but used my lovers for my own means. I used my lovers as distractions to my pain. There was no one other than him. No one as special as my first love. No one who treated me the way he treated me as he went to the ends of the world to make me happy by appearing at my doorstep with my favourite bubble tea.
I finally saw all these beautiful things of our relationship although it ended years ago. I finally cried tears of sorrow instead of tears of pain. I finally felt the full extent of our love that I had so foolishly denied to pursue my own ambitions and be opposite to everything he knew of me. From that sweet innocent girl, I turned into a man eating monster with an insatiable lust for accomplishments. I realised now, that it was a foolish thing I did. I should have accepted and parted ways based on incompatibility instead of proving him wrong. There was nothing to prove after all, our love was transcendent.
Over the years I watched him deteriorate in his body and mind as he fell into addictions and distractions as he dropped out of school and eventually dropped out of working. He is still depressed and did not ever recover from the lost of the love we once had. Out of guilt I had tried many ways to leave him in a happier place by talking to his close friends. I never succeeded as the guilt remained with me. I had chosen today consciously to let go of this gulit. I had done my best for our relationship, and I am ready to let go now.
As I write this letter, tears are falling from my cheeks, onto dress, onto my arms. I feel happy to shed these tears of grief and sorrow. I love him. My first love will forever be in my heart and my remaining days.
