t and bow tie shouting impatiently for what seemed like a kidnapping, that the two

albatrosses clumsily put him ashore. But that land? There was firmness of smells that
festival rolling, melting clocks of Dali wearing hideous prostitutes of Toulouse, who
danced to the giants of Tarsila. The man looked about sixty years, flush white beard,
round glasses, and shook the images that snaked around him, inspired by shamanic
drumming in the arms of shrill guitars ... Ballet also cheered the Indians, sylphs and
clubbers, leading him instantly to the cave entrance. "Freud yeah, I thought, silly. All
squirming like a vortex, after all it was a vortex of the deep earth, the place of volubility,
the unpredictable. Everything revolved and cuttings, but the spin that emerged was
unheard of. The old man seemed to intimate those stops - and screamed discomfort
restrained gestures He liked to visit once more the eye of the whirlwind that source-
paria incessantly creating everything. And murmured, between growls, not too surprised
to now find themselves stuck in a white coat:
By once again relinquish ... even for a moment ... yes, yes .. my ... graceful
... Reviews ...my compass ... Open up, bitch! What do I dive into you!.

I almost laughed in despair of affectation. Timbre heaving the old. I see him sigh, try to
move. Freud turned to Descartes and roared. But if left to flow into the vortex of the
same pace, to get to understand something that involved him. Now, he and I, boarded
the carousel, though I was hidden by the walls of the cave, we began to notice the
stillness of it was closer. Now, yes, the man could see yellow water, earth and a blue
cave - in the shape of the uterus - which sparkled. And even he had to admit: the cave
was actually a beauty discombobulating! Beauty that still filled the World Surface
...Beauty he had never been able to imitate with all its logic.

We attempted to analyze the cold around him, trying to reduce what he saw, smelled
and felt in the fields of rationality without fire or ice, from which he was a symbol.
Useless! In her realm, each step may give a precipice. There, in that cave, before
beating that sea - as the very heart of it - there, everything was obedient to the same
command irrepressibly rhythmic almost closed, but longed to open up, be a spiral.

Circle closed, thankfully. Perish on its own whirlwind, witch!

But who ...

Their questions called me Cartesius?

"It !..." (My astonishment was too much noise). And the woman who emerged from the
cave I smiled, leading me by the hand. The voice was pleasant, but ... Something
terrible crept on her face. Lust, banishment, ecstasy, darkness, infinite ...

whom I am the World Surface Nume calls.

Cartesius (it was obvious why that name) knew, but did not linger to look at it. Now he
seemed full of fat a general commendations. And a breeze of charity moved by second
hand. When I returned his eyes when he called Nume, instinctively pulled his hand out
of hers. The first wild Nume now shown to be a wizened beggar, covered in a cloak
embroidered (____ nervous look of Espirito Santo, Sergipe artist who flourished in his
art asylum), a crown of thorns, shaved head enchagada ... Cartesius piety became
embarrassed. And tried to simply discount it. But she joined his arm, and forced him to
watch it:

Why did not consider their work, Cartesius? The wounds do not hurt more than
disbelief planted up there!

I saw the direction in which the madman pointing. And it was like I was nailed to the sky,
and now my sky were the tops of ridges glazing, ant-tank cars, filthy slums and rivers
...everything spinning like a blender on low speed.

I hear the laughter and eye Nume: translucently purple, semi-naked and plump, a statue
of SEMOVENTE a fertility goddess (and she whispered to me, not to mention: I am
Inanna). Breast swarthy, bangles, belts, silver and lapis lazuli, too close to Cartesius,
now a top model blonde balancing on heels and squalid - and it was my turn to laugh
with her. And she pulls together the girl to look inside me, my mind, now I'm designing a
screen woes and indecision (and I feel a crucifix). I can see through my body, my mind-
projector: looting, massacres, deceptions, conspiracies, poisonings. And the desert that
was beginning to erode everything ... Cartesius, now wielding a scalpel, now with a
laugh of psychopath, marched on the Nume - now a shaman, fat and covered in fur,
headdress on his head, shaking a rattle. But both returned to Freud and Inanna. And he
just sighed and shrugged.

It was not me who invented this madness, Nume. But I am the minority.

She released. And walks away. And the kaleidoscope of sensations that makes it
welcomed the involvement.

That the Logos is the eternal destiny of its author ... in MY kingdom.

It was a joke. Ali ruled the confusion, the dark, and I, still a screen:

... the perfect black.

But Freud was looking calm, as if numb, unable to understand anything.

You know ... I am absolutely inert here. No shaft of light ... here .... reach any target ...

He babbled just now, disconnected from itself.

Recognize me, revert my exile ...

Human destiny will soon no longer need you ... And I never needed you ...
She smiles, pitying him.
I am the soul that animates this destination ... The surface is my uterus, the uterus
can not survive without its carrier. We are inexorably shackled, you, me and confused
up there! Despite his scientific investigations to know what's hiding in my mind I insist
billet!

You do not realize that it is solely responsible for their suffering? Emotions, beliefs,
numbness, waivers to me, that here you call ecstasy! ... And he pushed the questions
futile, as the texture of the Yellow Sea, the chemical structure of the smells, the
decomposition of the orgy of sensations in isolated parts ...

I'm at work when you sleep, Cartesius. When you stun, the wheel spins and they
throw themselves at me. Death and Resurrection ... ... The wheel ... round ...

... And my head was so loose inside the box ... 4 am and I have not slept more ... you
do not lose the time of their arrival ...

The dizziness did not let me. Euphoria barely hidden ... Andrew stopped and forged a
friendly smile, after I told my dream in such detail. And I was almost to the ground,
entering the small room of the inn. I stood there, standing next to the bed, lay on the
horizontal legs off the bed, feet still on the ground. I did not want to hear, but it was
inevitable closing the door ... Even Freud realized with hands crossed in front of the
body, in a corner suite. Until I heard a whisper, "overprotected only child and spoiled
...Typical purge the privilege, therefore, the will of erotic pain! "And the yellow light bulb
went off, but as the day was still light pierced the chinks of the shutters ... silence
...Andrew and smiling, I knew, even without the certainty of eyes, sits next to me, leans
very close, touches my hair, the bleached streak on the right ... breath, he also smiled,
mutual inhibition - disguised as a courtesy to him. My even a little
exaggerated.Recommended that maids expose their fragility at the time of
inciação. Dominants pleased to see them as vulnerable and yet enjoyable.
- Why are you still so? - Pointing with his eyes to my clothes.
- You have not told me to get naked ...
Exactly 2 hours and 48 minutes after meeting him, and there is a week of first contact in
the chat, I stood up, sighed, closing her eyes. Deliver me from the first sweater, which
revealed the top of white income. The blue skirt well behaved lycra, pants sober, but
sufficiently dug, by the thighs horrified shudder too visible. The top is gone too, I was
completely naked, sick and white, lit by the nipples embarrassment, anxiety, the
question of what was to come. The fear of revelation of some irreversible tare, whose
death and mutilation satiety enforcing a cruelly slow. But ultimately, there were sating
defects. The goals: Services to a body that was available. My: offering the body to this
mistreatment. I delight in the mistreatment. Understanding the feelings of pleasure and
pain developing a perfect circle as opposed to then return to play, mate.
There was no guarantee of safety, consensus and sanity so that world proclaimed erotic
marginal where I was entering. There was no evidence of the brief conversation via
chat, several calls later, his voice deep and tender, gentle and soothing, the various
personal information provided that I have not checked, perhaps by reckless masochism
to want to vibrate in fear of the macabre. There was only the scent of intuition. The
scent of desire to give myself, body, mind, spirit to the ropes, elastic extenders,
handcuffs clinked loudly in the luggage of Andrew, while traveling in a taxi to the
hostel. When looking male of him, running through all my curves, I sought the fleshy
vulva shave as he had ordered.Pussy of maid, clean and inviting. Abundant firm flesh
that throbbed, almost shouting in sweat, in gasps. Eyes necessarily low, I can not even
find the initiator. And Andrew looks at me, coming up, touches my breasts, fingers,
palms on each nipple hard, stiff. I moan softly lick your lips, watching the movement of
hands, pouring juice, smearing her thighs, I'm on edge, raw. There are times as exciting
as a thriller that does not happen in my fucking almost unknown, neither of which name
I remember, that just reminded me of the lack of presence in the moment I
fodiam. Hands down by my waist, Andrew was all gentle persuasion. Strong hands,
thick fingers and short nails urging more and more chills, way to the hip, his right hand
now on the vulva, smooths and tightens then the fingers between the lips of the vulva
fat, he smiles.
- Honeydew, bitch. Very mellow.
Fingers rubbing unhurried, up and down, feeling the swollen clit, teasing more and
more, and I gasped, his mouth ajar.
- Hand back now.
I obey immediately, even before the completion of the sentence. The breasts prance so
pinched nipples, a cynical laughter. Andrew stands behind me, caressing my ass pulps,
installs and tightens the handcuffs, burying her wrists. A loud groan, and he tightens
unaware. Now is the sale. A strip of blue silk over my eyes, my head pulled back on the
mooring, the hairs that get in the middle of the knot being pulled burn and also tied,
squeezed his temples, I see nothing. A mild panic. The heart speeds up. "I will not even
see the shine of the knife or screwdriver. Maybe a hammer, maybe a pair of scissors. I
do not know, I know ... "I got used to the idea of dying. It numbs me, I soften the
muscles and makes me even more draining. "Hopefully he hit me in my joy for the
jugular."

- II -

- Naami ... what is hidden here, baby ... The temple is not for curious ... You do not
make the slightest effort to prove agreeable to the pilgrims! - The tutor came closer and
took off without the tablets care of my hands ... My fingers red clay, sweat by surprise
and delight of the ideas I sighed. But she extends a hand squalid silver rings and
bracelets - many foreigners eager to surrender to Inanna. - And take me to the lobby of
the building - conical You have the body of the goddess, they please any true hip.
My robes neophyte hierodule not yet started are faint green, flying. The veils fidget, they
want to escape from my body when I put in my place of display, while the ranks of
strangers look at me, but move forward, perhaps looking for a dark complexion in
silhouette slimmer than mine ... Ishná (priestess who called me in the library where I
tangled) always made jokes with my fair skin. Although not a secret that my mother in
the temple - Lagelz, first priestess of Inanna - brought me into the world after giving up a
target with the mysteries of the East Hillside. Hence the pink-yellow and brown speckled
with small, my mother said were complaints of skin with the cruelty of the sun in open
fields to the borders of the two rivers where the temple sits. The heretoi accompanying
me say my breasts be a masterpiece, pointed to her mouth and tight. These boys who
surrendered themselves to the services of Inanna ecstasy seemed to understand me
more than the women themselves around the temple. Smooth, slender and dark, always
seemed to me child, for some older than me were.
Smile, the sun goodbye - all hetetoi called me so, this leaning on my side was only
called Egyptian - the goddess told me today, you will do your duty to her. - And smiled,
shaking my hand, playing with the veils that covered. That's when a man with Minoan
clothes approached and extended his hand and he pulled away, leading the stranger to
the services of Inanna, one of many small altars ahead in the central courtyard of the
temple. Ishmá, from time to time, send me the sprout back, standing quietly offered, I
sigh and obey for seconds, then relax your shoulders, together with the loose approach
herons kissing bed of the Euphrates. They spend a few more moments, and as usual, I
creep back to the library, and Ishmá fleeing the mob of men who insisted I despise. The
tablets tell me of an endless pleasure, the union of heaven and earth, flesh and stars,
thanks to that Inanna could provide. I just can not see it in the faces of anonymous who
sought our services in the temple. Empty faces, rough hands, a few lines, most often
farmers wanting his lands belly kept growing as the children of Inanna springs, power,
water, magic spells. Those men were all beggars, begging arrogantly something they
could never have them as. "They would never play Inanna" ...

- ... I've kissed the sky and the hell of Inanna ...
Mused aloud, do not know, but I looked toward the voice that mocked me. Tall, deep
dark night of dark moon, smiling, pouty lips exibidamente, agile eyes, by the armor on
his chest bearing the emblem of the royal house of Uruk and helmet under his arm
seemed to be a senior officer. He bends over, supporting his hands on my thighs
crossed reading the tablets and watch me at length.

- Inanna is Hathor, the land of the Nile.

The cow-goddess who, with milk from their udders, sprinkled the sky with stars. Almost
smile when I see Lugal holding the arm of the stranger. "For the administrator of Eanna
is guided by the elbow, the visit seems quite important." I put the laughter, I rise and
prostrate myself in awe that has always abhorred and it is obvious that both the odd
laugh, knowing by my veil I was in the wrong place.

- Why are not you in the lobby for travelers, pearl ... - And messing with my curls -
travelers will not deserve, that is. - And to Lugal - You can leave it with me. Come,
pearl.I've been taking readings of the neck and lifting me up. So I stray and elusive,
creeping back toward the mat, the stranger crouched in front of me, always laughing
and licking his lips, salivating strangely.

- My name is Naami!

- Naami! - He closes his eyes, deeply sucks the fumes that I knew I had around me,
licking his lips again and thrashing them with my name - N. .. a. .. a. .. m. .. i. .. r. .. the
stubborn daughter of Lagelz. What eludes most in keeping vows of Inanna. What will be
the temple of your ecstasy with this rebellion ... - It was a dismissive tone wrought, as if I
test - Do you prefer to daydream in his colorful creations of carnal encounters between
gods and goddesses ... The surrender to the calls of strangers humanly humble but very
concrete walk in the lobby. - So sighs, interrupting, changing the course of his
convictions - Inanna Maybe you have planted these confusions ... Girls minds not invent
questions that make you suffer. Maybe ... whether you're a great candidate for the
Triduum night in the woods (trees that existed at the time as vegetation Sumerian?).

Many hierodule and neophytes had been summoned to this lonely night. A test of
Inanna.It is curious that there was a regular in the call. He had only one visit from a
counselor to Izdubar, the king of Uruk, requiring the convening of any "gifted." Neither
returned after.Rumors in the alleys, a monster devoured them after sell this disgraceful
abuse. The official silence, even in cases in which the nobility was hierodule faintly. One
of the remarkable pact of Uruk serving Izdubar, drinker of beer served at the Eanna,
where neophytes were all gathered at their dormitory. "Lest you stir our king," said our
tutor Ishmá, meaning just the opposite in laughter reticent. Result of this protection to
the peace that neither royal nor any of Naami scribes under 14 years of Eanna knew his
physiognomy. Only laughter and intense voice, dance and drunk in favors from other
priestesses Lagelz and mature. Laughter ... the stranger, who turns away and is lost
from my sight, inside the ziggurat, and for some moments I could not even move my
legs, still feeling strong pressure from the fingers almost in my hips.
Bring me the sunset, the usual honors blue star who carried the crescent moon, routine
letters, payment to the dormitory, the girls who buzz undressed and bathed ... When I
listen to almost undivided, a mournful chant grave and hoarse. Vine, yes, the high altar
of the ziggurat, the shed that tore the curved arms of the night. I glued to the body wall,
left foot on the top step, watching the strange dance to sing from her mother, all in blue
and silver night snaking down generous body.

- You want to enjoy being a god Inanna you own? I suppose you could provide that. A
sacred marriage only to fertilize your soul ...
That boldness of the strange! But the long rough fingers squeezing her thighs ... The
right palm brushing against my neck, almost an inspection. Left palm now both
suffocate me gently licked her lips, salivation.
- Just as Inanna is war, so are you, Naaman. Everything you crave is an adversary that
overwhelm you.

The Bedouin simply pushed into the center of the circle. It took a ____ (stringed
instrument) and began to strum the song with which they had fallen asleep the night
before. And whispered in the ear of Tamara, who danced the dance yesterday, the
Sultan who is compassionate offers voluptuousness. She closed her eyes. He sighed
deeply ... Fleshy female proud of herself ... The strumming of the Bedouin musicians did
you remember the beat of the music ... It was a plea that more and more exciting then
withdrew to his own humility, but alive, moaning. And that inexplicable wave shook his
body, sending her rolling hips, abrupt. She simply obeyed the orders of pace. He sighed
again and began to stir the body, with firm, quick jerks to the rhythm of the strokes that
drove the music ... The hips had life, and she left to follow its own momentum ... arms
snaked among themselves, met the shoulders to the beat in two days, alternately, and
she smiled ... A hoarse voice and severe shaking of the Bedouin purposely, were like a
commandment: "Treat yourself" ... the next measure she dove in completely melodic
and shaking shocks in the firm of musicians ... the "cymbals" and cheered on the steps
she went round and discombobulating music ... and only remembered the night before,
the delusion ... in demented impulse to drop on the sounds adorable and vibrant ... The
subjects of Omar began bodejar sharply ... and she smiled ... The undulating rhythm of
the tremor and short, the jerks who ordered the music ... and your muscles serving to
that imperative to come and go quickly to the body, from one side to the other ... and the
guttural voice of the Bedouin and fluttering movements leading ... arms in the air,
always winding and wandering hips offering ... was pure freedom and shocking that
there was already known by distorted descriptions ... dance there in the middle of the
camp omar (?) semi-naked, with only those veils and leather seemed a climactic
death. Eyes closed, feet on the fingertips, and the music seemed a prayer and then a
contempt ...thousand times the same chords being repeated, because Omar was never
tired of their swaying, his sweat gleaning it, in light smile played on lips ... like she knew
exactly what he was doing there, in those warm sands of the evening ... Omar knew the
mob of music, and sang in buckwheat (?) while the Bedouin tremulejava intonation in
language Iberian (?).... were lying several languages, alternating verses, increasing the
power of the melody and the chords, and his clothes was no longer the veils, but the
sweat ... A contralto voice opposed to the roughness of the Bedouin and his litany that
followed the melody ... and she just tossed to the flavor of undulating rhythm. Omar
touched her hand, then squeezed it .... asked her to spin more ... and she listened ... it
was not the demure Jewish escaped the Inquisition ... she was a woman of Inanna, a
simple prostitute, who is not perturbed in only be obeying the orders of the one who
ordered her lewd dancing, just wanted to set up where his body was going, what he
could do to imitate a snake, a bird , a tiger ... And several times the music was
repeated, with variations here and there a sharp ... and she floated in the sand, smiling,
even laughing with ... and fidgeting restlessly to the beat of the chords and Hot ____
she remembered currents and all that had tortuous routines ... breath faltered and
wooings it had remained, overcame sweat, shortness of breath, the warmth ... and white
meats simply bowed to that litany melody that had been unique, and strangely with
unprecedented detail ....
The Bedouin turned in his mouth and burned a hot drink ... came to tell him after he was
anise ... she drank three sips and floated further ... other women in the delegation had
joined her ... but no one could overcome the fury of her hips freed ... Omar was insane
proposals to the Bedouin, to stay this night with the dancer, but he only used his
unfailing chuckle that went on a tangent of any crossroads ... and looked, then smiled,
deeply grateful ...
When she found the party already conquered by the intoxicating rhythm of the music,
came over to the Bedouin, already drunk, and shook himself, offering the body, the soul,
the ferocity, the uncertainties in the eyes ... and he played only aware of what had, and
that would never lose ... and seemed so gallant an indifference to the dancer ... legs
were also snaked when caressed, but fleetingly, soon returned to tremulejar the stream
of music that it was sung by the entire entourage of Omar ...