My Racy Homage to Anne Rice (Naughty Rad Erotica)

Rad note » this entry originated from another page .. where I was talking to Blow. It was moved here because the subject drifted far enough to warrant its own, separate entry.

At the end of this entry (that you're reading now) I have included a link that will return you to the exact spot from where this entry originated. Here ya go ...

» Homage to Anne Rice

Blow, certainly you are familiar with the notion of how one thing can lead to another.

Anne RiceAnd this looks like the perfect place .. to craft a nice, little homage to Anne Rice.

Of course, my homage would be based on purely fictional characters.

Any resemblance to persons real and living or deceased would be purely coincidental.

<standard disclaimer applies>

But surely you know how writers draw on their real-life experiences to craft their fiction. It's inevitable.

For my homage, I am not referring to her vampire books, no. Tho the current rage .. that all came from Anne Rice.

Rather I am referring to her Sleeping Beauty Series. You know.

Because this is the place where it would go. As you will see. Right here.

I will no doubt have to lift out this section and transfer it to its own separate page .. but this is not a problem. [ Update: this is now done. ]

<ignore this intentional body-text marker>

••• today's entry continues here below •••

Let's say, for the sake of argument .. that a Boss Lady (who I dont work for) says to me one day around lunch-time, "Do you have a few minutes? There's something I'd like to show you. Something I think you'll enjoy."

I am like, "Of course."

"Walk with me," she says, gesturing forward. And we take a walk.

She takes me to a place that I have never been before .. an isolated place where people rarely go .. which is typical of this whole experience. As you will see.

And she shows me this thing .. that she knows I will like. And I do like it. Cool stuff for sure. Which I will not detail here, because it is too telling and because it really doesnt matter. Not germane to my story, to my homage. 

Because, after showing me this cool thing, she says, "This is not really what I want to talk to you about."

But while showing this thing to me and explaining the theory behind it, she revealed the extent of her knowledge into highly technical things.

And that is something that does it for me. Something that I cant help but admire .. technical knowledge and know-how.

So I am feeling somewhat unworthy in her presence .. being so impressed at her familiarity with this stuff. She is obviously very smart.

Now this woman is what you might call a strong woman. She is the boss of an entire department and she has lots of people working for her. Smart people.

And she knows her shit. She is respected. (Tho, mind you, we are speaking in a purely fictional sense here.) But my fictional Boss Lady wears comfortably the persona of a boss.

And even tho I dont work for her, she still has my admiration because she is good at what she does. She has her shit together.

And she says, "I saw you. Last week. I was in the storage closet in the building next door. I saw you doing her. Over your boss's desk. After everyone left for lunch. What balls you have. And I just can't get those images out of my mind."

I am speechless. Now she really has my attention.

She continues, "What do I do? You are a contractor. If wind of this ever got out, they'd fire you without thinking. You'd be gone in a heartbeat."

[ She has contractors that work for her .. so she knows the deal. And I am a boss myself here at this point. A contractor boss. (With a hundred people, or so.)

And it is not difficult for a person to view a contractor as a whore for hire. Because there is an element of truth to that. ]

» I am the Only One Who has a Key to this Room

She said some other things, and I dont want to bore you. But the thing that really got my attention here in this room (that I did not even know existed, being so remote) was when she said, "By the way, I'm the only one who has the key to this room." ..

.. right before she tossed the key onto the table .. onto the desk that was positioned against the far wall.

And it made a noise in this quiet room .. as it hit the table and slid across. Then there was a silence. A pregnant pause.

And she is facing away from me now .. saying how she just can't get those thoughts, those images out of her mind. And how she has struggling with what is the right thing to do in this case.

And how she doesnt want to ruin marriages, and she knows how hard it is to hold together a marriage because her own marriage is lacking in many respects. "My husband is happy to do what I tell him."

"Did you notice," she asked, "that this outfit I'm wearing is nearly identical to the one she was wearing that day?"

I didnt .. but once she mentioned it, I could see the similarity. That's when she started to tell me how she is not like most women.

And I will leave it here. But she is a Boss Lady, and she wears the position effortlessly. She doesnt need to try to be an authoritative figure like some. She just naturally embodies an aura of authority. For a number of reasons.

Now this story enters the Twilight Zone right about here .. but my take-away, if I dont return any time soon, is that » these things can take you into deep water fast. Over-your-head deep and make-your-head-spin fast.

She has me and she knows it and she is going to want her needs met and it will not end in this room today. This room is like a door to alternate universe. That you did not even know existed.

I was going to write here that you can imagine the rest of the story .. but that is not true. You really can't. You can't possibly.

Tho I'm sure that Anne Rice could. And this Boss Lady here in this room, to which she held the only key, is the one who turned me on to the Beauty Series.

And many other things that you can't possibly imagine. Suffice to say that she was natural. A natural Boss Woman. Who needed things to be done her way. That is what did it for her.

Control and power dynamics. Kinky shit, Blow.

I couldnt help but notice the quote by Gore Vidal at t=12:30 in the DVD » Best of Enemies .. where he says »

"It occurred to me about sexual relations .. how indeed much of it is based on, not upon any pleasure principle, or even a procreative one, but of people gaining power over others."

Is this not a remarkable quote? Gore Vidal is very smart. Smart people tend to be kinkier .. in my experience. The mind plays more of a role with them. Their imaginations come more into play.

Tho I would argue that much of it is indeed based upon a pleasure principle. And sometimes you are simply in the mood to procreate. You know.

Anyway .. I admit that I sometimes dont get women. (More than just sometimes, actually.) Their subtleties go right over my head.

But this Boss Lady laid out this thing in a way that even I could get what she was saying. Very clearly. And something about that appealed to me. Like you felt that you could work with her. Competence.

I mean, she is an intelligent, well-educated woman with well-honed social skills. She knows how to talk to people so they get what she is saying. So I know it shouldnt surprise me, but it did.

She is older than me .. five or six years.

Now I am far from an authority on women, Blow, let me tell you .. but you might have insights that I dont have, seeing how you have other experiences.

But it seems to me that some women seem to carry a need to hurt men, to make them suffer. To cause them pain.

Maybe they had a bad dad, or a weak dad. Maybe they had a shitty boyfirend .. who broke their heart .. who you just happen to look a lot like. The possibilities are endless. So we will not even try to dissect the psychology.

They like the i.d.e.a of men, sure, but they dont really seem to like men themselves .. unless the relationship adopts certain characteristics. Certain patterns.

Whether or not these characteristics, these patterns are healthy or dysfunctional .. well, we'll leave that alone for now.

But these patterns represent an avenue that is actually interesting to explore. Downright fascinating, at times.

I have not read Fifty Shades, but judging from its popularity, I suspect that I am not alone.

I remember the librarian saying, "We have a dozen copies out and there's still a month-long waiting list."

And if you adopt this certain pattern, then that really does it for these women. I could really get off on a tangent here, bro, let me tell you.

I kinda have a problem with the whole pain-n-suffering punishment thing .. particularly when it comes from an intimate source. Because 'enemies' is what we typically call people who want to hurt us .. no?

So there is something of a paradox at play here.

But as a writer yourself, Blow, and regarding the responsibilities that come with such a vocation .. do you feel that it is the writer's responsibility .. to explore these avenues? A duty to step thru the doorway if the door opens to you .. beckoning you to enter?

Doors that you did not even know existed. Perhaps, just for a quick peek?

Because it is always the case .. that things are never as they seem from the outside. And once you get inside and start looking around you think, "Wow, I could never have imagined this in a million years."

Morally, I am sure that we would all agree here. But I am talking about as an artist, as a professional, as a curious human being who understands what Einstein meant ..

.. when he said that » experience is the only source of knowledge.

[ Intuitively I feel that he meant that you dont really know a thing until you get up in it .. and actually become a part of it. ]

I am talking about those places that life sometimes takes you to.

I mean, people play at this stuff, and I have friends who play. (Guy friends who play with their girlfriends.)

And I have had people say, "We play and we like you and if you want to play with us then we have already talked about it and we would like to play with you, too. And we have friends who we play with and I am pretty sure that they would like to play with you .. particularly this one girl."

One guy said » "Dude, the equipment is ridiculously expensive .. and the quality isnt even very good. So I go online and see what I want and then I drive down to Home Depot or Costco and I buy the materials and make my own. I save so much money that way and I have all the best equipment. We have the cuffs with the nice fur lining, and just last weekend I made a beautiful spreader bar, ajustable and everything."

"What do you use that for?" I asked.

I am not going tell you what he told me, but you basically use it to spread people's legs .. and then do naughty things to them

This guy had a gigantic schlong. He says, "You should let me call this girl I know. I showed her your picture. She's definitely interested. She plays nice."

But this with the Boss Lady was not really play. And that clearly did it for her. You could actually see the way it took her. Like she couldnt help herself.

If I were in charge of gifting human beings with certain gifts, let's call them .. you know, X-men type of stuff ..

.. to the writer, I would give a thing where people come up to you and tell you things that they would normally never tell anyone else. Like your body scent contains a truth serum.

And for them to tell you the really good, deep, personal stuff .. you have to GO WITH them .. do you not?

So in a sense, your empathy and compassion becomes a key, crucial tool in your writer's tool box. No?

Cuz this is what gets you the goody-good good stuff.

I am talking about intimacy, to a degree. But, in order to proceed to legendary levels of intimacy .. the other person needs to feel safe.

And in order to make them feel safe, you sometimes have to adopt certain patterns, certain personas. You know.

And a life without intimacy .. what kind of life is that?

So what am I saying here, Blow? I am saying that she told me some things .. things that I know you want to hear.

And she wasnt always nice when she was saying them, either. You know how Boss Ladies can get bossy, at times, especially when they get all worked up over something.

"I want this done now and I want it done right. I want to feel that you have put your whole soul into this project and if I do, I can promise you that there will be a reward .. a tasty treat. That you cannot possibly imagine. Do you understand?"

And all Boss Ladies have rules, you know. "No one can know about this. No one. Repeat after me." The rules start easy, but gradually grow more severe.

The first shade of gray is always rather muted. If you successfully pass it, then they start to get darker. 

I do not know how many of the shades I explored, but I can tell you that one of them is when they call off the thing.

And they only do this when they see that they have you. When they know you are hooked. It's almost like they have ESP.

And if you want back in .. "You are going to have to up your game, young man. I am going to need to see a greater level of commitment. And you will need to demonstrate your commitment. Are you really sure that you are ready for such a commitment? Because I am going to need things from you that may be difficult for you to give."

Speaking of these more severe, darker rules .. do you feel that the writer should write what only he can write?

» You Knew It Was Wrong and You Did It Anyway

But I would ask you, Blow, and I would even ask Anne Rice .. does it not seem strange that, the very next week .. after you do something that you k.n.o.w you shouldnt do ..

.. but which you do anyway, because of the weakness of the flesh .. combined irresistably with the strongness of the thing before you ..

.. a lady walks into you life (like she belongs there, most confidently) and tells you that the o.n.l.y way that she is going to be okay with things ..

.. is if she hurts you. By punishing you .. for your sins (so to speak). You knew it was wrong and you did it anyway and now you will suffer the consequences.

She did say these exact words .. but that was the gist of it .. as I would quickly learn.

I grew up Catholic. Both my parents went to Catholic schools. So I am well familiar with the concepts of punishment and suffering .. intimately.

Hypothetically speaking, of course .. would that be a good coincidence?

Especially when it seems like this woman has trained her entire life for just such a job. Like she has a gift for it .. a well-honed gift. Experienced. It is a very psychological thing.

And you know what I think about the value of a good teacher. Specially a good psychology teacher. Who is no doubt familiar with contours of various deviant mind sets.

And after detailing the great pain-n-suffering that I have caused to her psyche .. she mentions that there is something I could do. To help make restitution for my wrongs. So to speak. And then she turns and looks at me and waits for an answer.

What do you say, Blow?

I have told this story to friends (sitting around the campfire, of course) and they are like, "Dude, I would say, 'Take me to your leader .. I hear and obey."

But see .. this lady, she does not want a hear-and-obey guy. (She already has one of those. Well broken.)

Rather, she wants a bad boy. A rule breaker. And unbroken stallion .. that she wants to take for a ride. (Or two, depending on your spirit.)

This is what does it for her. Anyway .. I probably have said too much already.

There was a scene in that movie, The 300 - Rise of an Empire .. which has a naturally strong Lady Boss. I thought of my Boss Lady when I saw the scene with this warrior chick. The easy confidence.

She has this one guy thrown overboard, wearing a pair of concrete bracelets .. because he disappointed her. Disappointing her obviously came with punishment .. rather severe punishment, if you ask me. It's difficult to swim while you are wearing the concrete bracelets.

Your power to negotiate is severely compromised when you are wearing the concrete bracelets and you are standing on a ship out in the middle of the ocean.

Sometimes we think we know people .. but we dont really. (Know what I mean?)

It's kinda like what Einstein said .. that you dont really know a thing until you GET UP INTO (experience) the thing. (Try it and you'll see what I mean.)

I am actually tempted to throw down a little stream-of-consciosness on my Boss Lady .. but I doubt you are ready for that. (I know I wasnt.)

There are some things, you know, that you simply can never be ready for. Particularly when you have powerful hormones at play (and at work).

So, you know, she says, "There is something you could do," then turns and waits for an answer.

I would be lying if I said that my heart wasnt racing when I said, "What's that?"

She was very happy when I said that. Let me tell you.

I have gone back and analyzed this thing in retrospect .. in some detail, I might add .. and that seems to be the exact moment ..

.. well, if you read the beginning of Kafka's The Trial .. the part where Josef K says something that he later thinks maybe he shouldnt ...

» How do You Get Yourself into Shit like This?

Anyway .. this would not be the first time that the voice in my head said, "Dude, how do you get yourself into shit like this?"

So, later .. you try to figure out this stuff .. to see how you got into it. And that first step can be slippery at times. Slippery when wet. Speaking of which ..

She says, "You can listen to me."

I said, "I'm listening."

She said, "You can listen c.l.o.s.e.l.y."

"I am," I said.

"No, you're not," she said. "You're listening from far away."

"Oh," I said, as the lightbulb went on. (She was sitting on the desk. Leaning on it.)

» The Heat and the Wetness of Her Breath On My Ear

And when my ear was pretty close to her mouth, she said, "I went over there afterwards .. you must've left. But you could smell the sex in the air. It was pretty strong. So I left the door open. But the smell .. it had an effect on me."

"And if it would've stopped there," she continued, "I probably would've been okay. But then the weekend came. And that gave me time to think. And the thoughts that came to me .. I can tell you, in no uncertain terms, that I have never been so bothered by something."

And when she said that last part .. about being bothered .. she leaned in real close to my ear and said it again, "Bothered".. so that I could feel the heat of her breath on my ear .. and even the wetness of it.

That's when I started breathing hard. Because you f.e.e.l her bother. And it was strong. Certainly stronger than anything I had ever encountered. She actually scared me a little. (Well, she actually scared me a lot.)

She actually scared me so much that I considered naming this entry » The Bother.

But I wanted to dedicate something to Anne Rice.

Nevertheless I will gladly save you the bother, my friend, the bother of reading beyond this point

[ Lemony Snicket does this thing where he tries to discourage the reader from continuing on. He is the only one that I know who does this. And I liked it so much that I took it for myself. ]

Ooh, I almost got distracted there by Lemony. Here's where I want to save you from reading any further .. by telling you the moral of this story at the onset .. which is » Bothering certain women comes with consequences. Consequences that you cannot possibly imagine.

But if you are really a glutton for punishment .. then welcome to the club.

Anyway .. when I started breathing hard, she literally gasped. And she pulled back. And she said, "You do listen good. This is going to be good for me. So very good."

» Give Me Your Hand

Then she said, "Give me your hand."

And she took it and backed into me and lifted her skirt and put my hand into her and she was very wet. It was leaking out of her.

I was definitely not expecting that .. let me tell you, brother.

Ever so slightly she slide up and down with her tight little tushy before putting her other hand back there .. to check the contents of the package .. the rapidly expanding contents.

Right when my fingers started to move on their own .. she pulled it out and brought my hand up to her mouth (facing away) and started to suck on my fingers.

She turned to her left just enough to make eye contact and let my hand drop and said, "You have nice hands, by the way."

I was going to say 'thank-you,' but the part of me that forms words and sentences seemed to be temporarily out-of-order.

Then she said, as she walked away, "I want you to think about what I've said. And I'll meet you here same day next week. Same time." Gesturing to the table, she said, "There's your key."

Walking out, she said, "Wait five minutes before you leave. See ya next week. Think about what I've said .. because I am going to have more things to tell you."

» That Sexual Energy is Mine

A minute after she left, and right about the time I was wondering what I going to do with this pole vault in my pants, the phone on the desk rang. I wasnt sure if I should answer it. I let it ring three times. "Hello."

"That sexual energy is mine," she said. "I dont want it going anywhere else. Anywhere."

There was another awkward pause.

"Hello?" she said. "Are you there?"

"Yes." I said. [ I was too busy thinking about a million different things. ]

"Do you understand?" she asked.

"Yes," I said. I could hear a little dejection in my voice. This was too much shit for me to handle.

'Say it!" she said sharply. "Say, 'I promise I won't let anything happen to your sexual energy'."

So I said it. (And I even meant it.) And strangely enough, it now felt like this sexual energy b.e.l.o.n.g.e.d to her.

Fuck if I couldnt still feel the fingers of her dainty, diminutive hand firmly coaxing it to life. Never before had sexual energy become such a thing.

And there was a lot of it .. let me tell you. It felt like my balls weighed two tons each. And like my center-of-gravity fell to my groin. I was definitely feeling lightheaded.

"I will know if you break your promise," and there was a m.e.a.s.u.r.e.d pause before she said my name. <click>

That was my first shade of gray. So to speak.

And yes, she would go on to teach me a lot about sexual energy. This girl knew a lot about sexual energy. She had a thing for sexual energy. (And the control thereof.)

Because it seemed like she somehow fed off of MY sexual energy. Like that was the thing that did it for her.

Like she has sexual ESP. Or like she could somehow feel my sexual energy. And the stronger it became the more it turned her on.

Whatever the case, you could see the way it took her.

But this is what I mean when I say that some girls seem to possess the ability to get inside you .. inside your very soul .. to see thru you .. like they somehow see parts of you that you yourself didnt know .. crazy as such a thing might sound.

Is that feminine intuition?

I am talking about when the voice in your head says, "Dude, this girl knows how to fuck with your head .. that makes her dangerous."

The Boss Lady is not the first to comment on my sexual energy .. and it is not always a positive comment. Back when I wrote that the Wow girl said it was my energy .. that attracted her to me ..

.. I wrote » "This conversation went on for quite some time .. tho I will spare you the details." Well, here are some of those details. 

And remind me to tell you what a girl once said to me after we had gone to a mini-birthday get-together for a a friend of a friend at Javier's in Laguna .. one Friday afternoon. (The place was mobbed. Very loud. Deafening roar.)

And this girl started talking to me. She was very engaging. Later, my girlfriend gave me shit about it.

When I called bullshit and pointed out how it was her girlfriend who was acting so friendly, and who kept moving closer and closer ..

.. she accused me of "putting out fuck-me vibes." [ You cant make up this shit, folks. ] I mean, I am just sitting there, mostly with a bunch of people who I've never met before (drinking a Cadillac marguerita).

I could go on and on about sexual energy, but the Boss Lady is the one who knew the most about it.

Even tho I dont really understand women, I have nevertheless heard that a woman needs to have her mind stimulated .. whereas men tend to be visually stimulated.

So how did I do, girls? Do you feel stimulated yet? Or should I continue with even more enticing erotica? I could go on and on, you know. We are only at the first shade of gray.

I could easily crank up the naughiness factor a few shades if you like .. without even trying very hard.

Or I could slow things down and go into the most exquisite detail of physical sensation and psychological ecstasy.

I know you want me to tell you a story .. a special story. Maybe even a bedtime story. A naughty bedtime story. About naughty, naughty people doing naughty, naughty things.

And stories are one of the things .. that I do have plenty of. (Thanks to this Boss Lady.)

Why dont you go put on your jammies and light some candles and and take a hit of that Kushy indica and wait for me to come in .. and tell you a story. I will bring you a glass of wine.

The thing is .. all girls are different. But they will tell you what does it for them. And (as you can see) I am a good listener. And this is the girl who taught me how to listen. As you will see.

This is the girl who introduced me to Sleeping Beauty .. and a few other naughty characters. (That I may share later.)

But the writer is ever-striving to say more .. to say things that have never been said before .. or to say it in a way that no one has ever heard before. Or to say things that he and only he can say.

Or perhaps simply to say things that he has never said before. Because this is how the writer grows.

And I can assure you that the next shade of gray is something that I have never said before, never written before. No. Definitely not. No way, Jose. Tho I have certainly written much about it (.. for my Boss Lady friend).

And if you must create your own languages or your own worlds in order to do it .. then this is what you must do and you best get your ass busy about it, boy.

Anyway .. happy birthday, Anne Rice. You inspiration, you. Happy 74.

You know, the Times has these things where they ask a writer a bunch of questions, including which 3 writers would you invite to a dinner party.

I would start with Anne Rice and go from there. "Can I save my other two for later? I am more of a one-on-one type of guy."

There are many ways that I find myself resonating with Anne Rice. I may return later to share these points of parallel-ness.

And it is because of that resonance that I write this entry.

You probably think that I am just being naughty here, writing this stuff .. but really, it is my way of reaching out and touching Anne Rice.

And if you gotta get a little naughty to do that .. then this is what you must do, my friend. (And you best get busy about it.)

In my own, special way. Like I have with no one else. Personal. Some of myself have I put into it. (That is what makes it special.) Can you feel the love?

I remember reading about Beauty and thinking, "If I were writing this, things would be very different. I would definitely be cranking up the temperature."

But regarding her writing, her style, with her vampire stuff, which everybody knows about .. I think that writing takes you deeper into a thing .. by the fineness of the details. Not everything you want to take deep .. but somethings you do.

So naturally, the writer asks himself, "What details?"

And I was noticing this about Anne Rice's writing .. the details that she s.e.l.e.c.t.s .. wow. They take you deep into the thing .. gradually but steadily.

And as I am reading her stuff I could hear the writer in me commenting, "Wow, that's a good word." [ that she s.e.l.e.c.t.e.d to convey something ]. Like eerily good.

And the feeling that I came away with was » "She's definitely got a thing going on."

To be continued. ■

Okay, okay .. I'm gonna tell you about the second shade of gray [ I honestly have not read the book ] because I cant stand myself .. and now I am getting all worked thinking about it. [ Proust talked a lot about this. ]

But I am just gonna tell you this one little part .. because I know that you are not going to believe it, anyway.

[ Something about me believing that some one won't believe what I am saying .. actually makes it easier to say. ]

But when this Boss Lady learned that I wrote .. she wanted me to write things for her.

And no, not just any things. Not hardly. Rather, she wanted s.p.e.c.i.a.l things. Very special. And this is how I learned to write this naughty stuff.

She really pushed me .. beyond myself, at times.

Anyway, the part of her second shade .. that I want to tell you about .. is when she did this energy-control thing on me ..

.. focused on my groin area .. with her hands .. but not actually touching me. But moving her hands around me.

And I say, "What are you doing?"

And she says, "I'm massaging my sexual energy."

Dude. You could totally feel it. It was gnarly stuff, for sure.

"How do you do that?" I later asked.

She said it was a combination of intuition and sensitivity, but mostly focused attention.

Like you try to tune into the other person and feel what they feel and adapt accordingly .. to the point where you become one with .. or close enough to cruise the galaxy together.

Anyway .. she started slow, as if feeling her wy around.

"I can totally feel that," I said.

"And dont forget," she said, "that last week you said this was _MY_ sexual energy."

And when she said the word 'my' she did this thing .. to let me know that it was hers.

And I said, "Oh my God," and she kept doing that thing .. never actually touching me, but smiling satisfactorily now. 

And one of her hands was positioned now a few inches below my crotch and she was pumping her hand in a massaging motion and my freaking balls started to feel like they were on fire.

"And you said that you wouldnt let anything happen to it, didnt you?" And she is pumping that bottom hand furiously now.

"That's it, that's it," she said. "You got it! Take it all! Take it all!"

And I finally gave way to that thing she was doing and it was like the levy broke. I started coming right there .. right in my freaking pants. My Ralph Lauren pants. Like I couldnt stop. The energy was enormous.

"Didnt I tell you I would know?" she said afterwards, still panting with a big smile on her face.

She never actually touched me. 

She said that I had real talent, because I was such a good listener and because of my sexual energy .. which allowed her to tap into it so well, so easily.

"That's a good trick," I said, looking for a wet wipe. "You'll need to teach me that one."

"Oh, you'll be learning lots of tricks," she said, "Trust me."

I held out my arms for an embrace, which is the normal thing people do after sharing an intimate moment .. and she held up her hands and said, "No, no, no. I can't touch you until next week."

I can only imagine the dumbfounded look that must have appeared on my face.

"You think you have have no sexual energy left now," she said .. "but I planted a seed of sorts in your lower chakra .. and I was able to set it deep.. because you did such a good job.

Now, dude .. say what you will about this crazy-sounding shit .. but fuck if I couldnt feel something in there .. and it was a little annoying .. kinda distracting .. pressing on a part of you .. which is making you aware of it. Conscious of it.

"Remember when I said 'my-eee'?" she said.

I nodded .. how could I forget?

"That's when I set it," she said. "I was surprised at how much energy I used, but I couldnt help myself. Then I was even more surprised when you took it all."

So it wasnt very difficult for me to believe her when she said that.

"What kind of seed?" I said.

"Let's call it a serpent seed. It can be difficult to describe. You will see what I mean when it starts growing in a few days."

She glanced at her watch and said, "I have a meeting."

On her way out, she said, "When it starts growing, I want you to write about it and describe it for me .. and send it to me by close-of-business Friday. That's your homework assignment. And I want you to put your whole soul into it."

» Come to Me

She paused at the door and looked at me silently for a moment, before saying, "Come here."

Ariana summons her servant at the 2016 MTV VMAs in MSG Aug 28

I walked over there making eye contact the whole way. It felt like she had a tractor-beam on me.

When I stopped in front of her, she looked down at the wet spot on my pants and said, "You might want to bring a spare pair of pants with you next week. But I like that you dont wear drawers"

Then she looked up and made eye contact, real deep and said, "Say it .. say, 'I' promise I'll put my whole soul into it."

So I said it. (And I meant it.)

"I will know if you dont keep your promise," she said, before leaving.

I remember feeling light and spacey for the rest of the day. Floaty. One person even commented that I looked dazed.

I was dazed. I definitely felt rocked. Confused. Scared. You know. Exhilarated. I could go on.

How can somebody make your balls feel like they are on fire without even touching you? And then make you come in your pants? I definitely did not get that. At least, not then.

But if you are i.m.a.g.i.n.g that your sexual energy belongs to someone else .. and they are focusing their attention on you .. in very specific ways ..

.. then maybe you can actually feel their intention via your imagination. Kinda like the way hypnotism works. Power of suggestion. And control of that suggestion.

That's the way I tend to think of it, anyway. And fuck if it aint nice to share our things with others from time to time. With others who we consider special. In some way or other.

Because the sexual energy is definitely real .. you can feel that throbing even without using your imagination.

So it's not like she is actually creating the sexual energy (.. which is being created by my hormones, no?) but you can definitely feel her working it.

But you could see the way she moved her hands around you .. that she was practiced at this thing .. whatever it was .. and you could definitely feel the focus of her attention on you.

And you could definitely intuit intention from the movements of her hands .. sensuous movements .. let me tell you.

She felt sure that it had something to do with my years of training and working daily with something you cant see, but which is powerful enough to kill you. And she had a point there.

Tho she didnt tell me that until much later. She had an interesting way of looking at things. Very interesting.

She made me realize that, to the degree that eroticism is about the mind .. and yes, it is very much about the mind .. tho to different degrees with different people and even different from time to time ..

but she made me see that to this degree .. smarter women are sexier. Generally speaking, and dramatically so in some cases.

Anyway .. I was thinking about this kind of stuff and more .. while I was waiting my five minutes .. when suddenly I turned to the phone on the desk .. and focused on it, automatically .. three seconds before it rang.

And I felt excited. I was starting to know how Pavlov's dog must've felt. I answered it after two rings, this time. "Hello?"

"I shouldnt have to tell you this," she said, "but I'm going tell you anyway .. because I like you, and because you're such a good listener. And that's that performance determines reward. [ she said those last 3 words slowly ] Now, I have every confidence that you wont disappoint me .. but I want to motivate you .. to be the best writer that you can possibly be. I actually want to push you beyond yourself. Far beyond.And I have found pleasure to be a powerful motivator. How 'bout you?

"Oh, yes," I said. "Very powerful."

"And I want all of that sexual energy going into that paper." she said. "Do you understand?" 

"Yes," I said.

"Say it!" she said sharply, "say, I promise that all of the serpent's sexual energy will go into my writing."

So I said it.

"If it's really good," she said. "I will touch you next week. And I am going to be thinking about touching you .. and I will be sending my thoughts to the serpent. You will know when they arrive. And I should probably warn you that you will not like some of these thoughts. But we both know that you were a naughty boy. You cannot deny this, or we would never be here. So it it only fitting that I punish you properly."

"And I want my thoughts of punishing you and touching you to go into your writing. And if they do, I can promise you that it'll be a touch that you won't soon forget. And now I'm late for my meeting." and she hung up.

Strange as it might seem .. this stuff is really about intimacy .. which takes courage. No doubt about that.

Because this is scary shit.

But that will have to be some other time. Teasing, you know, is part of the torture.

But basically, she tunes into you .. and then she wants you to tune into her. And that is really where the fun begins.

And then she tunes into you, again. Surely you see the wave-like pattern.

And I know it sounds overly simplistic, but you do this (to a large degree) by l.i.s.t.e.n.i.n.g (closely) and then sharing your feelings about what you heard.

Can you say 'resonate'? It will have to wait. It's always better when you want it badly.

This was not her only trick, no sir. Not by any means.

There were also tricks that involved touching .. and she knew a lot about touching, too .. but she was really about things that were beyond (mere) touching. And that's why I wanted to share that part.

Now I know you might feel that I am in dire straights here, being at the mercy of this Boss Lady, and I would have to concede that it does indeed appear that way.

But despair not for me, my friend .. for I am a smart fucker, myself .. and I learn well from my teachers. And after a while a good student should surpass his teacher, and sail off into galaxies never before explored.

Einstein said » "Learn their ways and do their ways better than them."

He really didnt say that .. but you catch my drift. (Become a student of what you do.)

Today's birthday homage to Anne Rice comes at a timely moment .. when women are ascending in power and statue .. so men need to learn their place.

Of course, it always helps to have a good teacher.

Friends say that I should find a girl with a bossy voice and record my racy homage. ■■

You can return to the exact spot from where this entry originated .. see » here.

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This page contains a single entry by Rad published on October 4, 2015 10:04 AM.

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