currently: naughty

*listening to Tool*

I was a bad bad girl. I took advantage of a frisky boy and made him beg. I made him whimper and whine and moan and plead. And it made me feel so powerful.... like the old days. I was such a tease in high school. I never really realized that 'til now. But it's so enjoyable. Nevermind that I'm celibate. To make a boy beg me to stop... there's nothing quite as thrilling in the world as that. To know that he'll be unable to sleep, unable to think of anything else but his arousal, unable to stop himself from saying something dirty. That's power. And I wouldn't have enjoyed it so much if I didn't like him. To effortlessly bend him so sweetly with my words. I know I'll never get his voice out of my head now. When my testosterone flies off the chart in a week or so, I know it's all I'll be thinking about. A helpless boy whimpering in my ear, "stop, please, stop," well, that's enough to make me smile and then some.
And then there's a twinge of guilt. Hmm... And then the self-torment comes. I don't think it was wrong. Or do I? When I already have such a sweet thang to torment in other ways.... I guess I need this, the verbal play. I want to hear the need in another. I want to smother them in my voice.
The temptation.... the possibility that people out there are struggling with themselves for composure.... makes me want to crack out of my shell and emerge as all the goddess I could be. In full glory. To torment them in other ways and push them over the edge....

too many elipses.
damn stream of consciousness.

In other news, some guy in my anthro class was hitting on me. uh.... okay. And these girls from my comm class want to take me out to get drunk, but I have the feeling they're gonna try to set me up... so, I'm skipping that. have i already mentioned this? my memory is terrible.