In Ireland, it is said that fairies often visit the homes of newborn babies during the night and exchange infants with identical fairy changelings. The changelings are of such a provocative nature that they wreak havoc and pandemonium throughout the home and village of the family unfortunate enough to raise one.
My grandmother swears I am a changeling.
My grandmother raised me in the old Celtic pagan tradition and renamed me Maeve when I was six months old. Maeve was the ancient Irish Queen of Connacht, and some say a Queen of fairies. Her desires and pride, along with her manipulation and seduction, brought about the bloodiest war in Irish history.
She told me this story when I was six. I still remember thinking: how delicious.
When I was seven, I lured my neighbor Jimmy into the bathroom for a little I�ll-show-you-mine-you-show-me-yours. He showed me how he could pee standing up. I showed him how I could tie his balls to his penis.
He is still one of my slaves.
After running my cold steel knife along your bare, helpless legs and watching you jerk against your restraints, you will surrender and slowly lower genitals to the cold steel, lovingly, like the blade is your home. I can feel the force of the universe in your submission, and I shudder with fascination and furious lust. I am the willing creator of your blissful misery.
I have unwrapped the souls of senators and janitors, of teachers and prostitutes, of priests and sidewalk poets. Let me lay you down and unmask you. Let me gently caress the stranger in your soul. Let me draw your hands over your head and take my silk scarf to your wrists. You cannot be trusted, you see... even by yourself. I must show you the way. I must bend you into what you have always wanted to be: a willing victim of your innermost fears and terrible fantasies.
...and I am your Mistress.
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