Deidre

    There exists a cemetery that I frequent. I know how that sounds but I find it to be quite a peaceful place to spend a lot of my free time. I was barely fourteen years old when I met Deidre and the last time we were together Deidre said that she loved me. My fifteenth birthday flags this special day and Deidre has informed me that she is planning quite a treat for us. The only reason I'm here to tell this story is because I'm worth more to Deidre alive than dead; although death I would have preferred.

     At first I had only what one might call a simple school teacher crush on Deidre. She taught art classes at St. Jacobs High School in my home town of Blackwood California. And yes, we all called our town Backwoods California for obvious reasons. It was a very small and tight lipped town. My youthful face and endless energy was what I believe attracted Deidre to me. Naive I was and still a virgin and to me she was about as beautiful as a woman on Earth could be. She was the cool teacher. The teacher all the students loved and all the other teachers hated. Not just because she was beautiful but also because she was intelligent.

     Love can be beautiful. Love can be horrible. Love is heaven. Love is hell. I've mostly experienced the hell part. 

     Deedre stood around 5' 9" without heels. In three inch spikes she topped at six feet tall which made her a skyscraper of a woman. Her slender body was filled out in all the right places for any teen aged boy's carnal fantasies. Her thick and long black hair seemed to be moving with a breeze even if the air around her was motionless. Large cat shaped eyes seemed to change color and follow every movement no matter how subtle. Hypnotize you she would upon first glance.

     The color she wore was black of course and she wore only black save for the occasional red rose sprouting from her left ear which she always stole from some poor souls grave site. Stealing from the dead should have been a warning flag for me. But I ignored it. 

     Soft white the color her skin reflected under a blue sky with an occasional freckle dotting the landscape of her beautifully crafted body. Her face was somewhat "V" shaped and her nose was a beautiful manifestation of her Jewish and Italian lineage. 

    Her cute little elf ears - as I called them - were usually used to rein back her lavish mane of hair which she referred to as fur and complimented a well defined jaw line and high cheek bones which pointed south towards her full red lips.

     She wore leather black riding boots any self respecting Hells Angels club member would have been proud of and sometimes rode a thundering loud and swift Indian motorcycle. 

     Deidre's backside was slightly too plump for her thighs and her feet and hands were about as perfect as they could be on a human female. She made me worship her body and I never resisted. I never had any sexual fetishes for any other women previously. But I did for Deidre. Her breasts were full "D" cups and her waist was a perfect compliment to her round hips and perfect thighs. She was any teenaged boy's sexual dream girl come true save for one significant flaw. 

     Deidre had a serious mean streak.

     However whenever she looked your way you instantly felt that she cared about you as if you were best friends or lovers for years. Moreover she could make you feel cool and comfortable in your own skin if you were quite awkward and clumsy. And she would make you feel like you were chronically interesting; even if you were a professional bore. I used to tell her that she had missed her calling in life and that she should have been an actor because she could fit into any situation. 

     One day she told me that her favorite song was Stairway To Heaven by the seventies rock group Led Zeppelin. I only mention it because it explains a lot about Deidre and how she viewed life. 

     You see Deidre loved to kill things. 

     Anything that was alive really. Especially anything that looked too well off or too happy or safe. She used to say that smugness was a sign of weakness and should be made an example of and thus eliminated. She often took the lives of small animals or people's beloved family pets. She'd kill someone's cat for no apparent reason and then say that it was now on the stairway to cat heaven; or the stairwell to kitty hell. This should have been another red flag for me but I chose to ignore these and other warning signs and continued seeing her. I would come to regret this decision.

     Deidre's most striking physical characteristics were her lush red lips which seemed to pout on their own resisting any contribution from the face muscles. And her beautiful green eyes that pierced through and gazed into your shallow soul. Her gate mimicked any model in a popular music video and she spoke every word scripted as if she were the lead in a big budget Hollywood movie. She was as beautiful as Liz Taylor in Cleopatra and as elegant as Princess Diana. Deidre was highly intelligent and savvy and her beauty and smarts were matched only by her surly and aloof disposition and her quick and eruptive temper. Men fell at her feet like pigs molesting a slop bin. Women constantly forgave her for her numerous transgressions even if she transgressed with their husband or boyfriend or fiance or lover or in my case their son. 

     But Deidre liked only me. Or so I was led to believe. 

     Deedre loved to torcher me on a daily basis. One minute she'd be gushing her beauty and love all over me and the next minute and without warning she could be beating me senseless with whatever inanimate object she could wrap her beautifully manicured fingers around. If no weapon was available she would use just her fists or her feet or both to maim me. She loved to fuck the shit out of me for hours in the back of the cemetery and when the fuck fest was over she would beat me so brutally that I often had to miss school; sometimes for days. I told my parents it was bullies. But it was Deidre. 

     I once asked her if she was a witch and she got insidiously angry with me slapping my face so hard I fell to the ground. The next day I worked up the courage and reluctantly asked her if she was a Succubus and her reaction was much less offended. Laughing , she told me that she used Succubus blood as dipping sauce for all the witches that she cooked and ate. I laughed it off and pretended that she was joking but I somehow knew that it was not a joke even though common sense would dictate otherwise. Because Witches and Succubi are fictional right?

     That really should have sent me running for the foothills but it only strengthened my love for her as did everything she said and did to me. I guess that's what she wanted. Deedre always got everything she wanted and if she couldn't get it herself she would find someone to get it for her. Usually a stupid dude who was infatuated with her. Much like I am.

     I'm supposed to meet her today at the cemetery at three pm. It's five past three now and if I don't get there soon I'll get quite more of a beating than usual. I learned this the hard way quite early in our relationship. Deedre didn't like to be stood up or left in wait. I guess no one does but she really didn't like it. I have the scars to prove my claims of her however never would I tell another soul of this. Of this she made clear and I strictly abided.

     I had to stop and ask myself if my tardiness was a deliberate or subconscious act and wondered if I somehow enjoyed the physical maiming from her. I realized almost instantly that I loved her touch in no matter what form including the punishing and painful lot. I wondered if this was a normal thought or if thoughts of this nature beacon my need for professional council. Deedre often said that she was my therapist and in a way she was; she loved to control my thoughts and actions. I glanced down at the time on my watch and thought to myself that I had better get going and try and mitigate my inevitable "self inflicted suffrage". Her phrasing. She would be calling soon asking where I was.

     Parroting her words with no opposition was all I could manage mostly. Followed by a prompt "Yes Mistress". Failing to follow her verbal protocol would simply result in another brutal physical assault followed by a lengthy speech and punitive absence. 

     You see I needed Deidre, but Deedre needed no one.

     I found myself thanking God again - how ironic - that she had found me; it had been so long since we had fornicated. I was excited and scared shitless simultaneously. My fear and reservations were extinguished by my endless lust and love for her. So again off to the cemetery I went.

     Over an hour it cost me this time to find her as she was in a different part of the old graveyard than usual. After searching our regular fornication plots with no luck I had to traverse a tiny moss covered wooden bridge over a small stream and navigate a thick green and blue thorn brush to the very back of the cemetery to find her. I hadn't been here before. This was where the mausoleum was and where the above ground corpses lie in cement tombs.

    The sun warmed my face followed by a cool breeze and yellow Dandelion patches looked up at me in curiosity. Birds sang in protest of my actions yet I ignored them trekking on unaffected by their warning. 

     Clawing through an overgrown brush and destroying several spider dwellings with my face while trudging through soft muddy ground and finally catching up with her footprints; I was confronted by a rusty old wrought iron fence. Deedre was just slim enough to slide through two bent fence rods. I was not so svelte. I contemplated, calculated and navigated my clumsy fifteen year old body up and over my rebellious lovers metal barrier.

     At last, catching up with her footprints I could see that she had brought a blanket and already had it sprawled over one of the cement grave covers. It was one of those graves with the large stone slab on top. I inspected her makeshift bed and I voiced my reservations about actually having sex on top of someone's grave, which we as of yet had never done. Of course within minutes she had convinced me that everything was fine and that the unfortunate corpse below us would never know what had happened. Soon I was sitting next to her and we started to kiss. How I longed for her kiss. How I longed for what would follow.

     One translation of the name Deedre means "longing".

     Deedre simultaneously grabbed my hair and my crotch and probed my mouth with her smooth slithery tongue. Looking at her tongue you'd think that she was Gene Simmons sister. I loved it and I loved her and she always used it against me and I always acquiesced her whims no matter how selfish or outlandish. 

   You see Deedre was in control at every second and I finally had come to terms with the sheer fact that I was indeed her boy-slave. If I had money and she wanted something I had to buy it for her. If I was broke and she wanted something she'd make me steal it for her. If some dude disrespected her I'd be made to fight for her honor. If one of my teenage friends took my time from her something bad would happen to them. Any school girl who crushed on me was soon either moving away to another town or got in a severe disfiguring accident of some sort. I don't know how she did all this. I began to suspect that she was in fact not human.

     When my dad met her he was questioning the nature of our relationship so she took him upstairs for a few hours and he never ever said another word. When my mom questioned the nature of our relationship my mom was soon diagnosed with a super cancer and was dead within ten weeks. She's buried in this very cemetery where Deedre and I make passionate love. She insists that we come here to fuck and then reprimands me for fornicating in the cemetery where my mother lies for eternity. That is the contradictory nature of our relationship and by this dynamic she controls me and I can never, ever win an argument with her. I Insisted that I wanted to bring flowers to my mother's grave before the fun and games. She put up a fight but eventually agreed.

     Upon her finishing me with a porn star worthy blowjob we got dressed and I was eager to leave and get back home. This she sensed and asked me what the rush was. I lied an excuse and of course she saw through my deception. Deedre turned flush with anger, grabbed my throat and slammed my head so hard against the top of the cement grave slab that bright points of light filled my peripheral vision. What followed was a lengthy lecture on lying and why I should never lie to her. I was doing my best to follow along, nodding and trying to focus my eyes and process the horrible pain in my now bleeding head. I apologized over and over but it was never enough. Why did I do it - lie - I knew this would happen. Did I do it on purpose? I asked myself this while still trying to follow her rants in my now groggy and pained mental state. My head was pounding and now bleeding from the rear where it had scraped the cement slab. Actually cracking the cement slab with my head she now held my throat and I couldn't breathe.  

     Deedre was very strong for a woman - or for a man for that matter. I once saw her beat this huge biker to a bloody pulp right in front of all his biker buddies until the poor dude was unconscious. No help from his leather clad cronies as they all got on their crome horses and hightailed it out of there as fast as humanly possible. 

     So why did I lie?

     The events that happened next terrified me beyond sanity. Deedre stood up and looked down upon me with such an evil smirk that to this day I cannot unsee it. Her countenance was cool and calculated. Her eyes were confident. Her body was tensing and releasing. Her breathing was heavy and excited and then she said in a surly and resentful tone.

  "Well that's it then. I'm breaking up with you."

  Those horrible words cut through all the physical pain and throbbing in my swollen head and tears filled my eyes quickly and I was temporarily blinded. I pleaded my case to her like an inmate on death row.

     "No! I'm sorry, please Deedre I'm sorry I lied! I won't ever do it again" I cried.

     Finish the apology I could not as she sat on my hips as if she were straddling to fuck me. I was not so lucky. Deedre then raised both her fists up over her head. I was sure she was going to double clock my face. Instead her small yet extremely powerful fists slammed down on either side of my head and the vibrational force shot like a hammer though my already bleeding skull. What happened next I was not expecting and would change my life forever.

     The force of her powerful fists not only confirmed my suspicion that she was in fact, not human, but also compromised the integrity of the cement grave cover such that after a moment a crack broke the silence of the graveyard. She immediately repeated the action this time destroying the 600 pound slab and we both plummeted into the now open grave; the cement slab crumbled all around us into small pieces. I was on the bottom and Deedre sat atop me as if we hadn't been lowered six feet into the grave as if we hadn't even moved. The casket below broke our fall. I would have laughed had I not been so petrified by the sheer strength of her fists and arms. Deedre gazed down at me and laughed for a few moments then asked me if I wanted to get fucked at the bottom of this grave. I dared not say no.

     Now she was raping me at the bottom of someone's grave on top of their casket. Already horrified by the current situation but then exacerbated by what followed. 

     Deidre's skin then started to rot at an accelerated rate. First her skin started peeling back and flaking off until muscle showed in various places. Her eyes were bulging and her teeth shone through like a corpse's teeth after several months of rotting. Chunks of her now rotting flesh were falling onto my face and body and the stench of death accompanied the horrible site I now beheld. She ripped off her clothes to reveal more of her now decrepit body. She ripped off my clothes so I could feel her disgusting dying flesh. But she was still alive or at least still animated and very much looked like the living dead.

     Now I was screaming in absolute horror as her corpse like body raped me with no mercy at the bottom of this unfilled grave. I could not move or fight her at all. She had me pinned as she continued fucking me and laughing. She started revealing bones and other human organs that I never wanted to see or feel this close up - or at all. I couldn't breath and I was becoming nauseated and dizzy from her relentless torture. She leaned down to kiss me with her now rotten lips and mouth, her teeth and rotting tongue probing my horrified mouth. I started vomiting and when there was nothing left to vomit I dry heaved so hard blood was spewing from my lungs. I tried to close my eyes but when I did she would cause such pain in me that I was forced to open them and view her decomposed face as it changed and contorted into the most horrific monsters I had ever seen and never even imagined.  

     Apparently tired of forcing my eyes open Deedre then took her sharp fingernails and swiftly cut my eyelids completely off so I'd have no choice but to view my continued punishment. Screaming was all I could manage now as her rotted body now began melting starting with her face, moving to her shoulders then chest, hips and legs. I now was floating in a bath of liquid rotting flesh and blood mixed with bones and organs and mud. I gasped for air as she tried to suffocate me with her now vicious body. Then suddenly she re-solidified and was sitting on top of me again. Now she looked alive and normal again. She asked if I had, had enough yet? I simply nodded because I was rendered speechless from the horror I had just experienced. She then informed me that she was just getting warmed up and promised that my torture would last all night long. She kept her promise. I was certain that she had brought me straight to hell. 

    She tortured me all night at the bottom of that damp, dank and dirty grave in ways I had never dreamed of a person could be tortured. When she finally left me I was in such shock that I couldn't talk or move.

     Finally I woke at the bottom of the grave at sunup. Deedre was gone and I was a mess of cut up flesh and broken bones and dirt and blood. Lucky for me the cemetery caretaker found me early in the morning upon starting his shift. He presumed that I was a grave robber who fell into this grave by accident. The police, a fire truck and an ambulance came to remove me from the apparent crime scene.

     My permanent residence is now on the fifth floor at Burbank Psychiatric Hospital. I wear a corrective jacket so as to not harm myself or others and I now must eat all my food through a straw. 

     Still I long for my beloved Deidre. 

     I wonder when she will appear to love me and hurt me again and I cannot wait. I fantasize about it every night here in my padded cell.

     Love can be beautiful. Love can be horrible. Love is heaven. Love is hell.

     The nurse came to serve tonight's liquid dinner, I think it's chicken. She told me that there was a new intern starting tomorrow morning. She said she couldn't remember her name but thought that it started with a "D". A smile pursed my lips and fear flooded my permanently wide open eyes. I would be whole again.

I would be happy again. Love is hell.