The sadist in me sleep for a time, Not entirely asleep, but more a aspect of my spirit then the dominant part of me. And then, like Sarah Palin finding a half off sale at wallmart, it awakens and roars back to lfe.

Wheels seem to be tunring in our little lifes and planets aligning. I can feel the energy ramping up, the engines warming as they come back online and I wonder where next this journey will go.

Tit torture

We have had family staying with us and it has forced us into a more vannilla stance for awhile, but also it has shown us that we crave and need our dynamic and in some ways will leave us stronger once the family finally departs.

Dark wheels turn in my spirit and hooded eyes bide time behind my skull.

Which brings me to these thoughts that churn and tear at my mind numbingly boring days as we bide our time till family moves on out.

Those dark waters of the mind, to bathe in screams and dance in terror. Welts and bruises my tapestry to weave with shocking cruelty a thread passed through a thin needle.

Balance upset, the board tossed to the floor the pieces scattered, I am giving up on being who I wanted to be, abandoning finally that dream and being instead who I am, which is infinitely more frightening.

Emma is my love and together we stand or fall but try and stand we must, or time will fell us as surely as failure.

Send me a hooker, pathetic and shattered to pull into the darkness and crush against the wheel of pain. How much should it cost? No really, give me a figure.

Bathe me in darkness, feed the logs into the furnace and push forward the throttle.

Morality escapes me and ethics sing a different tune, the opening cords of the song begin, the friend awakens and we fight and struggle or dance and sing together.

No really, give me a price.

It is not suffering along I crave to inflict nor sex alone, no matter how violent, I enjoy but a blend of the two.

It is a craving that maddens me at times. a draw I can scares contain.

I find myself seeking a play partner who drinks in her suffering, who wallows and swims in it. I need to explore and taste so far beyond what my carefully controlled self protections will allow me to inflict that I find myself shutting down.

I have found my love, my mate, my slave and my friend, now I seek someone else, my paintoy. It is a different thing then my mate, I do not wish to become close friends, do not wish to share my life, my fear, my joys, my triumphs and failings. No,. none of that.

Indeed with the one I seek I could never be happy, never full, never content.

Yet without her, I miss a piece.

Often me and Emma speak of going to those spaces, and we do get close at time and I think we will get closer to them still. But one simply can not journey where I need to go with one you love and and like and need as your mate and friend.

It is a madness that at times seems a distant drone and at others threatens to take me.

I fear these times for my heart.

I can not write when there is nothing to say. It is a curse I think for one who enjoys words to be simply out of them, but for a long time, I felt I was. It is a call and response, these things I say. It is woven into me. Have your word close in your thoughts and know you are safe and then forget it completely.

Climb down the ladder into degradation, fear and pain and revel in it. Wash me in your hate and anger.

It is less a game with me and more a need, less a joke and more a tragedy. I know I am not one beautiful to gaze on, not one seemingly brilliant nor wise. yet still I call, waiting for the pattern that lets me know. Children playing at being sex toys, well, not children perhaps, but they seem it to me.

I see them fitter around the scene like so much fireflies, bright and attracting attention. They are not for me. I see you, yes you, and my heart is warmed, my cruelty looks up from the book it is reading, something about Rome I think. Are you this creature of limits and laws or are you the wild pain-slut who puts up these walls only to have them torn apart?

Of course you hate it, dread it, fear it, that is the appeal, the need, the core of it. What is beyond red? beyond ok? what is beyond want and into this dark need that we wish would fade but only grows?

It is my friend an odd thing for me, and not one I like to get stuck in for it leads me to sadness more then not, but it is unavoidable to me. He does not like to be told no, this creature inside.

But there are rules, locks and doors that must be opened one at a time in proper form and order and it seems unlikely the combination will be sought. There is a wall, it seems real. Still though I am not sought, I flirt with danger I

Which of us has not held down a big titted crank whore of a girl when we were young and crushed her nipples with our fingers and slapped her jugs around while she thrashed? who indeed? Perhaps we strapped her round ass with a belt, who wouldn’t?

But these are the wild abandons of youth and the foolish acts of teen-ages that we were.

When we learn control of ourselves and join the community, we join a clan that has it’s yes wide open. We are brothers and sisters who enter the funhouse of terror where we choose to enter those mirrored hallways and face the monsters inside ourselves and the prey that we may be.
We choose to enter the madness and together spiral to that jerking leg humping spasm of orgasm and agony.

But there are predators in our pond, those who do not respect the sacred pact of the church, our first command from your smurfy leader. We enable and support the darkness in each other, holding it up and stroking the flames.

The command is to never limit the core, in ourselves and in our kin.

When there are abusers in the scene, they feed only themselves, not allowing the circuit to complete, the flow to come in and then out again, the pathways must stay clear. I feed my fantasy by feeding yours, I build on it and hold it up, we enter it together, as friends, we love, we hate, we rage, we shatter and come together, we destroy and build and all together we emerge friends closer still.

Never violate the friendship

Never forget. Ever

There are predators out there that don;t play by the rules, if I had my way, I would watch them die very slowly, just for fun. There are monsters in here too, best not to forget it.

They say that you can not love another unless you love yourself, yet I have seen those filled with self loathing shine with the brightest love to others. They say you can not control another unless you control yourself, yet this too I have seen put to lie, though I admit less often.

Your broken soul is no excuse to be an asshole, an abusive prick, your mommies harsh words no pass to try and make her pay through  proxies of large titted subs and pouty lipped hookers in spotty hotels.

We are kin, we fight, we bicker, we have drama and feud, but we are kin, those who understand this need, this core, we are family, we are the Church

image from Paintoy.com

Why be scared?

We enable each others kink, we feel the core with tears and hard-on’s with cum and drool, spit and piss. we swim the spirit and storm the walls and with each other we climb, brothers and sisters up the thorn covered vines to discover each other and ourselves.
We seek each other out, in community and group, at munch and party, at homes and car seats to revel in a twisted bond. Yes my minions, we are kin.

There are predators among us, scattered left and right, trust me that I am one, a polite madman that takes no for an answer and offers tea with biscuits.  Others are not so benign.
There are those among us who take without giving, they prey on those who can give without receiving, they are the leeches, the worms that eat at our tree of life, avid sitting too long at their feet my beloved.

We come together to learn and grow, to share and feel, a dysfunctional family that revels in it’s disjunction.
Ill gladly bring you tears and welts, bruises and snot running to the ground as you writhe like an animal lashed and beaten, defeated and miserable and cuming and after all, we just met.

You flow into me as I to you, Dom and sub, slave, master, top, bottom, they do not matter, they simply do not. Except of course, when they do. We explore each other and ourselves, danger follows those who explore only one or the other.

Tribes and families form and flourish unknown and hidden in grand gardens while court is held for fools and prophets wearing foolish little hats.

I know you, I have seen your core and you mine and for that we are forever bound, you are known to me and I to you and in this we are family, beware the mysterious that hides in shadows too deep.

Pressing your face against the pane, the kids at the cool table and the anointed few, trust me my precious, it is glass where stone is needed.

All along the watchtower, princess kept her view.