Letting My Imagination Go

One of the side effects of my new-found free time is that I am insanely horny during the middle of the day. Mariela was home with me last week and we ran errands for a couple of hours during the middle of the day. She was shocked at how completely my mind had been taken over by thoughts of sex and perverted acts. Everything I saw, every woman that we passed was inspiration for some dark and sexually sick flight of fancy.

My days are actually quite full. The kids are home at 2 from school and have fallen in love with the community pool. The house is perpetually in need of straightening and the clothes of five people do not wash themselves. I love it, I feel needed, I feel like I am doing something that is productive and is tangible but the stress of going from 6 in the morning to 8 at night has started to wear me down. I need a release.

It has been part of my mid-term plan to add a few playdates into the mix of my week. I have the free time, the girls are at work so it is not taking away from them, and the boys are at school. An added bonus is that my neighbors are out of the house so the screaming is less likely to end in me trying to explain to the police that she wanted me to stick a knife in her ass and piss in her mouth. Timing is an issue though. I need to make sure that I get my work done before I play because otherwise I easily degenerate from the lord of the manor to the deadbeat gigolo. And this is where my overactive imagination gets me into trouble. If I do not do something to deal with these thoughts then I become obsessed. I need an outlet for them, some halfway house for my dark passenger that will keep it in check without killing it.

Writing has always been a good outlet but I have tried to keep this blog to only the real world things that are happening. I know that most of the people who read this do not want to see the horrible images I see. They like the stories of me as a person dealing with day to day shit. What I need is a way to vent without scarring you my loyal reader.

What is that you say? You want to hear those stories? You want to know what I see? What?!? Some of you even want to help me act them out? Well then, how can I refuse? 😉

The middle ground for this is a tagging system that I am going to start using. It is simple and to the point:

  • [Title] – Real life blog entry.
  • [Scenario: Title] – A scene that I am either planning to do, want to do or already have done. This will be crazy but legal, safe looking for volunteers.
  • [Fantasy: Title] – Welcome to the dark world of my imagination. These are the sickest unrealistic flights of fancy. Not for the faint of heart. If you read it is at your own risk. If you find yourself so turned on by what you read that you can’t keep you hand out of your pants and want to make the jump for fantasy to reality, let me know and we can see what kind of scenario can be made.

So there it is, a basic warning that some of what I am going to start adding to this blog may be more than you can handle. Am I being arrogant? Am I under estimating what you are hoping that I say? No, I am making sure that you are fully informed because frankly people, my head is a sick and dark place and while I need to get it out, not everyone that reads this is ready to face the void.

Hopefully this will lead to more stories, more posts and more readers that are titillated into reading something a little more kinky than they would have.


The Kinkster and Daniel Webster


So much of my life has revolved around words. I am a writer, I work with books, I found my wife on the clearance table in the basement of our local Borders, so many ways the written word has shaped my life. When ZG and I found kink, it only seemed natural that I would find that my favorite kinks revolve around words and their use. I like psychological warfare, mental sadism and general mindfuckery are the fields on which I play my best games and where I am most at home. Recently a small back and forth on the definition of psychological play got me thinking about the words we use and how minor changes in meaning can have drastic affects.

One of the first to come to mind is the trifecta of embarrassment, humiliation and degradation. Some people will see these as various different acts, some physical, some mental, some intense others to a lesser degree, where I see them as grades on a fairly wide ranging field of psychological play. Looking at humiliation as the verbal part and degradation as a purely physical piece give to much room for error. If you define the words this way, making someone worship your feet or crawl across the floor is the same as cleaning the toilet with her hair or enema play. Humiliation can be as simple as calling someone a whore or as complicated as deriding someone in her lack of social skills. It leaves too much room for error. It make more sense to me to define the level and then let the variety of play fluctuate between verbal and physical.

There are so many of these little differences that come up, small inflections that change the meaning of everything. So like in most everything I do, the words take center stage and turn a simple scene negotiation into a legal document. I am just glad to know that there are others out there that enjoy Pedantics