Archive for the Dirty Category

He calls me Goddess, I call him My Pet Pt. II: The Rule of Opposites

Posted in A Dirty Mind is A Terrible Thing To Waste, Cuckoldry, Dangerous and Unsavory ideas that are possibly harmful to the weak-mided and overly simplistic and religious, Dirty, Dominance and Submission, Enhanced and Fortified non-fiction, Erotica, Mature Theme, Much Too Good For Children, Possibly Dangerous to Everyone on July 25, 2015 by dreamlanddancing

(After many editorial revisions, my muses are finally satisfied with the end result. I very much wanted both of them to be in agreement with the final story, as it was largely their brainchild. I find it fascinating to have had the opportunity to be privy to their collective creative processes, although I am not sure they are completely aligned with the mindset of most women…lucky me.)

The Rule of Opposites

Randy sat watching his computer screen, mesmerized by what he saw on the OoVoo transmission he was receiving from his wife’s computer at the motel where she was meeting her bull.

This was a regular feature of their relationship for the last year now.

After more than two years of doldrums and apathy, their marriage had turned a new corner that was leaving them both vibrant, alive and almost breathless with anticipation of what each new day might bring.

He had to sit up very straight because the leather corset he was wearing squeezed his midsection so hard he could barely breathe, but he loved the way it made his waist look as well as the obvious approval that Sonja showed when she gave it to him.

Already he was beginning to get a slight glimpse of the world of pain and discomfort that women embrace on a daily basis without even thinking.. just trying to type with artificial nails was something most men take for granted.

Randy was the last person you would ever guess to be a submissive sissy cuckold in private life.

He was completely masculine to look at him dressed as a man, and he couldn’t “pass” at a school for the blind, but wearing women’s clothes got him so very hot.

As much as he loved women, he also loved cock, and cross-dressing. Although he had considered himself to be bi-sexual he had never been in love with any man, nor did he desire to ever kiss one on the mouth. He was strictly a “bottom” and loved to swallow cum, but kissing was too personal and intimate.

Swinging had led him to discover how to embrace his jealousy and insecurities. Randy realized that Sonja was more than enough woman for any man and he felt privileged to be her husband. As long as her desires for strictly sexual indulgences with other men allowed him to explore his own curiosities of them as well, he was more than happy to encourage her.

After he recognized the difficulty she had in exploring her powers over men, he also became aware of his fantasies of playing the role of cuckold. She had been very encouraging of his desires for cross-dressing. No one else in his life had ever been privy to that secret side of his psyche.

And so it was that he was led, step by step to his role as a sissy cuckold. He had never felt so liberated in his life. He gladly abandoned his desires for other women in order to be able to experience unconditional support from the love of his life to experience his wildest fantasies fulfilled at the direction of a wife too hot to be limited to one man.

Tonight was going to be a rare treat. Randy’s wife Sonja had recently added a new, very special bull to her regular stable of three. Her ad had stated she required bisexual men with big cocks, preferably circumcised, who were willing and able to satisfy her insatiable desires, which included getting to watch them fuck and humiliate her husband at her command.

Sonja was an Alpha-Bitch to be sure…she called the shots and that was all there was to it. She was a lioness, proud and powerful. She was used to having her way with all the men in her life.

If they got too disobedient, she simply dumped them…just like that. She only allowed Randy into her heart, and even he was more like a pet than a husband, but she loved him dearly and wanted to worship him, but he was weak and passive when it came to her and she knew it. Also, he was now a little too old to really give her the pleasure she required.

Although he experienced powerful and satisfying orgasms, he rarely ejaculated more than a cc or two. Sonja loved to feel the flood of semen either down her throat, squirting inside he pussy or flooding her ass and she missed the sensation despite the fact that she never expressed her disappointment to Randy.

She started to feel guilty that she only allowed men into their circle, but Randy, seemed to be fine with it. She almost wished he hadn’t…that he would stand up for himself and be a real man, but he finally felt vindicated from having to compensate for all his perceived inadequacies or for letting Sonja down.

He no longer had to pretend to be anything other than exactly what he always knew himself to be. Sonja had a new vibrance to her demeanor and seemed like she couldn’t stop smiling because she had a secret that she shared only with the true love of her life.

Then she met Jake. He was hetero-only. No exceptions, and he didn’t take orders from anyone…not even Sonja.

He was best friends with one of her favorite bulls, Dustin, and it was he who had suggested they meet.

All of Sonja’s bulls were circumcised. She considered it to be a prerequisite to even do an interview. When she had lunch with Jake for his interview, he insisted he pay for both their meals. She was so charmed by his appearance and personality that she forgot to ask if he was cut, but an hour later at the motel (for which he also insisted that he pay) she realized her error.

For the briefest of moments, she thought about apologizing for her mistake and leaving, but once he was fully erect, she decided to give him a chance…just this once. After all, Randy was at work and did not even know she was interviewing that day.

He had encouraged her to have an occasional “fling” with whomever she pleased, sometimes not even telling him for weeks…just like an affair. It made him crazy with jealousy, which she had quickly learned just enhanced his devotion to her.

Randy adored the foreskin of uncut cocks, but that was not even a question for Sonja, and she did not intend to seem to vacillate on this issue…but she told herself, it was probably just going to be this one time only.

What fascinated Sonja was how otherwise perfect Jake’s tool was.

She advertised for “long, thick and meaty” and Randy’s penis was as thick as her wrist when erect. (Several of her interviewees who were even thicker had left her sore for days afterward.)

Randy loved the way her cunt would come back wet, swollen and distended, but what Sonja desired most was length.

As girthy as Randy was, he was only a little short of seven inches, and her best previous lovers were usually longer. Randy was a skilled and sensitive lover, but sometimes she longed for the extra length.

She even bought him a three-inch penis extender sleeve, which she sometimes told him to wear, but he was not especially tall and did not seem to be able to get exactly the right angle she preferred to hit that little pocket at the end of her pussy way past her g-spot above her uterus.

Jake was just slightly thinner than Randy, but about eleven inches long…soft. He did not get too much longer when he got hard, which took about two minutes as they stood there talking as he continued to undress both of them.

As his already large penis continued to get more erect, she watched the foreskin slide back until it almost completely disappeared, although it left a rather prominent ridge about a half-inch ridge behind his very pronounced corona. She decided she might have to rethink her original ideas, at least as far as Jake was concerned.

She decided to show off by demonstrating why Randy had nicknamed her “the sword swallower” by completely deep throating him without so much as a single gag.

She learned early on in her life that she had no gag reflex and loved the sensation of being throat-fucked just a little more than her enjoyment of seeing the amazement it invoked in all those privileged enough to witness or experience her remarkable talents.

Jake was also quite impressed.

Sonja had kept her affair with Jake a secret for over two months despite the fact that she couldn’t wait to tell her husband. The suspense was incredible and when Randy finally did learn of her newest discovery he was overcome with excitement, although he was also disappointed when he learned he was completely straight, but even that excited him just a little more….it was something that would be out of his reach, invoking the longing for something he could not have.

Jake was tall…over six-feet two inches, lanky and very strong, and ten years younger than Sonja. He loved to be the object of a cougar’s grateful obsessions, and in fact, preferred older women. They seemed to have a worldly and slightly used quality that he found attractive. The effects of gravity, time and even childbirth were very attractive to him.

He was also the handsomest man Sonja had ever had the pleasure to fuck. Randy was decidedly very “easy on the eyes”, but Jake could have been a model if only he had been a lot shallower and less bright. Besides he had inherited money and was very good with it, so he had no need to whore himself out just for his looks.

That first encounter had left her trembling, wet, and breathless. She couldn’t remember the last time she had been so expertly fucked.

Although Randy had suspected there was something brewing just by the condition of her vagina on the days she had been with Jake before he got home from work, he trusted her to tell him all the dirtiest details of her naughty adventures in due time.

And when he cleaned her pussy as he dutifully did every night, she was still so full of cum that he knew something new was afoot. Even hours after their encounter it just flowed from her pussy like a flood as she straddled his face, and her panties were always soaked. It was also thicker and saltier than he had tasted before.

And there was no mistaking the taste of a recently well-fucked cunt and Randy was learning to be quite the connoisseur.

As so, Sonja’s first crush since she had married Randy began.

As Randy sat in full drag, he was wearing make-up and a wig in front of his computer with a very large butt plug up his ass that Sonja had just bought for him and she insisted on shoving it into Randy before she left.

He was forbidden to take it out until she returned from the impending fuck-fest. He was also forbidden to cum, and had no desire to violate her command…he loved the edgy tension it created, and the longer he was cuckolded, the more he craved release.

Sometimes because of his cuckolding, he would just ooze a few cc’s of semen (which was more than he usually produced in a normal ejaculation without prostate stimulation) and when Sonja had forcefully jammed the new even larger butt-plug up into his grateful asshole, a small stream of cum flowed from his cock, which Sonja immediately made him lick from her feet.

Randy was as exhilarated by Sonja’s infatuation with Jake as she was, but she seemed more conflicted about the luxury of allowing herself to acknowledge it.

What Randy saw was a woman revitalized and renewed; a woman who still needed validation and recognition from someone outside her marriage. She loved Randy dearly and was devoted and loyal within the considerably wide boundaries that they had already set.

It had been Randy who had initiated the new adventures that they had been pursuing and although she had initially indulged him in this as a pursuit of his fantasies he was excited to see the fruition of what he had hoped for all along, that she should experience her current situation guiltlessly and enthusiastically.

This would be the first time he would get the privilege of even seeing Jake and he could hardly wait. He was dying to know what was the source of her new-found infatuation…the first he had ever witnessed since they had met, so many years before.

Suddenly, Jake burst into the room. He walked up to her and picked her up as he kissed her deeply and passionately. Randy was slightly shocked to witness her passionate reciprocation. Usually it was never more than a quick tongue-kiss, but he liked what he saw almost as much as she obviously did.

He loved and trusted her enough to allow her this. He always seemed to enjoy her pleasures even more than she would allow herself to admit, but this was something new and he sensed her excitement and passion.

Jake had forbidden her to even allow Randy to watch them on camera until today, and Randy was as aflutter as a sixteen-year old schoolgirl as he witnessed the event.

Sonja then very deferentially unzipped Jake’s pants and pulled out his enormous cock before he could get hard just so Randy could see that he was in fact uncut, with a full coverage of his very large head.

She then announced that he should go into the bathroom and wash up, as she had no intention of knowing what his smegma tasted or smelled like as she winked to the camera.

Jake came back naked shortly afterward and announced (also obviously for Randy’s benefit) that he had pissed, but that she would have to skin it back and taste him just as he was…several hours since his last shower.

With that he pushed her to down to her knees and forced his still-flaccid member into her mouth. Randy could not believe what he was seeing. As he watched her greedily take his cock into her mouth he thought just how uncharacteristically submissive she now was…how she seemed to welcome this domination of his femdom wife.

He felt more jealous of Jake’s beautiful glistening tool than of her change of character. It was definitely longer than anything he had witnessed her to experience, and only once before, when he was in his twenties had he seen such a long cock in person.

That was long before he had even allowed himself to acknowledge his homosexual desires, which he had rationalized as being the result of drugs, despite the fact that he kept coming back for more.

It was with a friend he had known for several years who was a coke dealer for the Medellin Cartel in Miami…he tried to tell himself it was for the coke that he kept returning, and he never acknowledged any of the occurrences and neither did Miguel. Both were professed heterosexuals, but it was always Miguel who initiated Randy’s willing surrender.

It was then that Randy realized, but never acknowledged to himself, that he was a submissive bottom. Miguel however, was much thicker than even Randy, who could barely walk for days afterwards. And yet he kept returning any chance he could, and Miguel became bolder and more aggressive each time they met.

Neither of the men ever acknowledged their sexual explorations with each other either before or after they happened. It was as if it had never occurred.

Today would seem to last forever. This was the first Saturday that they had gotten together, and he sensed that Jake was intent on putting both Randy and Sonja in their respective places as far as Jake’s position of power over both of them.

Randy counted five successively longer orgasms from Jake, but he lost track of how many times Sonja came. It was obvious that she was completely at his mercy and she clearly loved every cum-drenched minute of it.

It was also the first time he had ever seen her receive anal, other than a few somewhat awkward attempts he and Sonja had tried over the years. She clearly did not enjoy receiving as much as Randy did and whenever he pressed her for it she immediately would peg him until he begged her to stop, only to continue until she was satisfied that her dominance was once again clearly established.

It wasn’t until then that he felt a twinge of jealousy within himself, but he gratefully accepted how it made him feel…gratefully alive and more in love than ever.

There was nothing he would not accept about Sonja. The more she pushed him, the more he embraced it.

She did not return until after dawn. She was clearly apprehensive about Randy’s reaction, but she bore a look of radiance he could not begrudge her. After all, it only made him more grateful to witness her unbridled joy and ecstasy, and she clearly felt even more in love with her new sissy submissive cuckold husband.

Although she was too swollen and exhausted to make love to Randy, she gladly agreed to straddle his face long enough to greedily lick, suck and swallow the seemingly endless flood of cum from her now flaccid, ruined cunt.

He tried to be gentle. He knew she was only doing this for his benefit, at least for now, until she had about ten hours of sleep. Before she showered, she reeked of semen, even her hair…it seemed to ooze from her pores,

And Randy loved every drop of it, as well as the smell of sex that permeated her being everywhere as much as the grateful look of satisfaction that she tried so hard to disguise.

No matter what she did from this point on, things would only get better for them.

He Calls Me Goddess I, Call Him My Pet

Posted in A Dirty Mind is A Terrible Thing To Waste, Cuckoldry, Dangerous and Unsavory ideas that are possibly harmful to the weak-mided and overly simplistic and religious, Dirty, Dominance and Submission, Enhanced and Fortified non-fiction, Erotica, Much Too Good For Children, NSFW, Possibly Dangerous to Everyone, Sexual Action/Adventure on July 19, 2015 by dreamlanddancing

Our dear friend Anastasia (astraltraltravler.WordPress.com) and my wife Suki (Yen4Suki.WordPress.com) dreamed up quite an amazing story upon which we decided to collaborate.

I was beginning to think I had become jaded, and that almost nothing surprised me any more, but I was wrong. Leave it to two women to push the envelope one step beyond….

This is the first installment of a four-part story.

So without further ado, I give you all something new to chew on.

He Calls Me Goddess I, Call Him My Pet

My name is Sonja. My husband confessed to me that he was bisexual long before we were married, but it wasn’t until a couple of years ago that he revealed how much he liked cross-dressing. Both were incredible turn-ons for me and I eagerly indulged him with lots of M-F-M threesomes whenever we had the chance.

I am an Alpha-Bitch by nature. It was about a year ago when he first told me he wanted to be a cuckold “subby-hubby”. It took him a while to convince me that was what he really wanted, but once he did, I wouldn’t have it any other way.

The men who swept me off my feet (and onto my back or knees) tended to use me like some kind of fuck-toy and would inevitably cheat on me, which just increased my insecurities.

Until Randy came along. He was older and wiser. To this day swears he fell in love with me at first sight.

Randy is an Alpha Male to the outside world, but he told me that from his earliest memories he felt plagued with homosexual fantasies even before he knew what one was, or how the world would judge and demean him for it.

As much as I wanted for him to be my everything, I see now how much more pressure that put on him. He already sensed that he was not the biggest cock or even the best lay I’d ever had, despite the fact that when he would ask me, I would try to change the subject, or try to placate his insecurities, which only convinced him even more that it was the case.

Randy is a sensitive and skillful lover, but truth be told, there have been several men who could leave me breathless and panting in a way Randy never did. His size was only a little above the average…just not my average. I’m lucky like that, I guess.

I loved his mind, his unbridled devotion and loyalty, but the men who really made my toes curl and my eyes roll back were egotistical bastards, and although a few broke my heart, I can safely say I never really fell in love with any of them before Randy.

That just further reinforced my Alpha-Bitch tendencies.

When Randy first confessed his desire to be a sissy cuckold, it suddenly all made sense. For once in his life he had the chance to let go of all the overcompensating he felt that he had to do in his public life for fear of the derision and rejection he faced if only they knew of his deepest hidden desires.

Randy loves women, to be sure, but he clearly considers me to be the one great love of his life. And that is plenty for him. He believes that I am more than enough woman for any man, and feels proud that I love him enough to give all my heart to him, but he also understands that I give my mouth, my ass, and my cunt to several men of my choice.

I am also a cougar…it takes young men who have the stamina and endurance I require before I decide to fuck them more than once, and it also takes a special kind of man who knows his place and who appreciates an older woman.

Right now, I have a stable of three regular bulls who never cease to amaze me with how well-fucked they keep me and how much cum they provide my pet to eat out of my greedy snatch.

I never wear panties and love to flash men any chance I get, but I keep a pair in my purse to give him something to lick clean when I get home in case some of it gushes out of me before I get home.

Then he gets down to seriously cleaning me as I straddle his face and I push it all out into his greedy mouth.

He got me an ankle bracelet for our anniversary that has a queen of hearts on it. I am surprised by how many men know exactly what that means, and a few have approached me as soon as they noticed it.

I used to have a very tight pussy, and prided myself on it, but nothing gives my Randy more pleasure than knowing that when one of my bulls is finished having his way with me I will barely be able to even feel him inside me, although two of my biggest bulls prefer for him to fuck me first so that I am wet enough to even get them in, although it still takes plenty of lube.

Then they make him fluff them before they fuck him up the ass until his dick looks like it’s going to shrink back into his body and looks more like an oversized clit. I asked him why that is but he says he doesn’t know, and doesn’t care why…because it just feels so good.

Once he cums, he goes into the corner to watch. After they get rid of the “quick one” in him he knows that they will really take their time with me.

Sometimes he ejaculates, but if they fuck him long enough and hard enough (and believe me they can) he says he feels what he describes as an “internal orgasm” as if his ejaculations are more like a clitoral orgasm and the gut-wrenching spasms he feels are more like a g-spot orgasm, which I read somewhere is related to stimulation of the prostate.

That makes perfect sense to me. He said if he had his choice, he would be perfectly happy with just what he calls his “Hiroshima Orgasms”.

My Randy loves “edging” and the longer he goes without ejaculation the better he likes it. He says he loves staying in a perpetual state of anticipation which often makes him cum before he can get hard if I tell him to fuck me. It is not unusual for him to ooze pre-cum several times a day, and he often squirts a little as soon as something goes up his ass.

Sometimes he produces almost no semen at all, even though he cums very hard…unless he gets his prostate massaged first, in which case he seems to completely empty his balls in one load, which is pretty much all he is ever good for most nights anyway, except for that one night last summer when I had two of my bulls “spit-roast” him twice in one night.

Each one took turns on which end they stuck their huge cocks into him.

Hey…it was his birthday, and I wanted to give him a present he would remember. Besides, I also had one of my other bulls do me while he watched as they did him. It was a great night for both of us as we stared into each other’s eyes watching both of us getting fucked at the same time.

He couldn’t ejaculate for a week after that night, even though I tried my best to milk him so he I could watch him eat it.

I try to milk him whenever I feel like it, despite his desires to stay chaste as long as possible. It is not a matter of his choice…it is mine alone, according to my whims, and he loves whatever pleases me.

He says he lives to serve at my pleasure.

I much as I love the taste of cum, and although I have never missed a chance to swallow if it is a solitary blow-job before Randy comes home from work, if he is around I always “snowball” it back to him…what the fuck, it’s the least I can do to make him happy.

Got to keep my pet well-fed.

I never pegged a man before Randy asked me, but I was amazed at how much I now love to do it whenever I can. I have an enormous dildo with lots of very exaggerated ridges and veins all over it and my favorite harness puts the base of the dildo onto my clit and I could swear I know what it feels like to have a cock.

Sometimes he pretends to be too tired or sore and whines like a little bitch until get rough and throat-fuck him with one of my smaller, softer cocks I keep on a separate harness for just that purpose.

Then if he still resists (and I love when he does) I make him lay there while I change into my “big dick” rig and roll him over forcefully and fuck him until he begs me to stop (I can tell when he has one of his “gurly” orgasms), but of course I never do. I usually fuck him even harder and faster and pull his hair and call him a sissy cocksucker while I slap his ass until it is red.

When he is finally whimpering and sobbing I start to really feel sorry for him and I let him go…and I know exactly how he likes it. It was not easy to learn to be able to do that, but I am here to please him too.

And that is just the tip of the iceberg…or rather the edge of the volcano. Next time I’ll tell you about what happens when I make him jump in.

 

 

 

 

 

TTWDWW: Maybe someday, right after You Think it Can’t get any Worse…and then it Does Anyway….

Posted in A Dirty Mind is A Terrible Thing To Waste, Civil Liberties, Dangerous and Unsavory ideas that are possibly harmful to the weak-mided and overly simplistic and religious, Dirty, Erotica, Explicit Sexual Language, First Amendment Rights, Literotica, Mature Theme, Memoires of a Post-Neo Dharma Bum, Much Too Good For Children, NSFW, Philosophical Sexuality, Possibly Dangerous to Everyone, Post-Neo, Sex, The Power of the forbidden Word, The Talking Monkeys, This Thing we do with Words with tags , , , , , , , , , on April 24, 2015 by dreamlanddancing

This Thing We Do with Words, a slight return.

Part Eleven

Maybe someday, right after You Think it Can’t get any Worse…and then it Does Anyway….

It is also darkest before the Storm.

And so we come to ideas, concepts, and thoughts….

So much writing is formulaic, because if you want to get published…if you want a large following of readers, you have to consider that most film producers or publishers have so little imagination.

Every time new ground is allegedly broken in some area, the rush to judgment is to look for the next “Fifty Shades of Grey,” or whatever copy-cat trend is peaking at the time. Enough said.

Charlie Kaufman, Lana and Andy Wachowski, and Tom Tykwer remain some of the most notable exceptions to the rule as regards both screenwriters and directors. To my knowledge, they do not do erotica. That is unfortunate…for Erotica.

Virtually all great modern literature breaks, or at the very least bends whatever literary conventions and common period practices that are in place at that moment. Naked Lunch, Finnegan’s Wake, Howl, and Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas are all good examples for different reasons, although none of them are erotic, despite the fact that when they were originally published, Naked Lunch, as well as most of Allen Ginsberg’s writings were considered “dirty”, and subject to censorship.

Originality makes its own rules as it goes along while the rest of the world tries to follow or copy it, but only after first suppressing it. We are long since past the time for Erotica to do the same.

We’ve had more than enough suppression of art and culture in general for too long. Politics and Religion are the root cause, but as long as citizens are willing to trade their civil rights and liberties for safety and security, from an ever-increasingly parental and disapproving government, it will only get worse.

It’s hard to believe that it has been over fifty years since the sixties (the generation that took twenty years to act out), which may have been the last time our culture openly embraced the eternally questioning mind.

Fellini stated that he believed that in some ways, censorship helped stimulate creativity by forcing more creative ways to work around the limitations it imposed…perhaps.

Born out of reaction to the regimes of Dwight Eisenhower, Lyndon Johnson, Richard Nixon, racial prejudice and discrimination in general, Vietnam and decades of sexual and cultural repression, a political and cultural revolt was inevitable.

In this country, it provoked brazen challenges to tremendous social, cultural and political evils and unconscionable repression, fueled by a general state of mind that openly rejected hypocrisy and injustice as the worlds of Art, Film, Literature, Music, Sexual Revolution, as well as Political and Cultural norms exploded in defiance of a world that had gone wrong for too long.

“…I stood around Saint Petersburg

when I saw it was the time for a change….”

(and)

“I watched with glee as your kings and queens

set the barricades

for the gods they made.

…Pleased to meet you…

Hope you guessed my name….”

(Rolling Stones/”Sympathy for the Devil”)

It has been far, far too long, and maybe our time will come again, if we but choose to stand up and howl…not to repeat ourselves, but to re-invent ourselves timelessly, proudly and shamelessly.

Nothing is sexier than a truly authentic person living their life passionately and fearlessly with boundless curiosity, little reservation or caution, and few regrets.

Time to fish, cut bait, or swim.

Namasté

नमस्ते

Chazz Vincent

04/23/2015

 

TTWDWW: Shock the Monkey

Posted in A Dirty Mind is A Terrible Thing To Waste, Confessions of a Mad Philosopher, criticism, Dangerous and Unsavory ideas that are possibly harmful to the weak-mided and overly simplistic and religious, Dirty, Enhanced and Fortified non-fiction, Explicit Sexual Language, First Amendment Rights, inspiration, Mature Theme, Memoires of a Post-Neo Dharma Bum, Much Too Good For Children, NSFW, Philosophical Sexuality, Possibly Dangerous to Everyone, Post-Neo, Sex, The Power of the forbidden Word, The Talking Monkeys, This Thing we do with Words with tags , , , on April 24, 2015 by dreamlanddancing

This Thing We Do with Words, a slight return.

Part Ten

Shock the Monkey

I can think of two descriptive phrases I have used that were almost too off-putting to have considered using, and yet…the image that came to my mind as I envisioned particular feelings or situations left me compelled to use them.

One is clearly not erotic, and the other one is more of a sensual prelude to develop the erotic aspect of a particular character.

“…that sudden realization came upon him like hungry wolves running down lost children in the snow.” (There is nothing sexy about the phrase of course, but that was not my intention.)

Or (In describing one woman seducing another):

“She found herself transfixed and powerless to resist, like a child being lured into a van by some familiar stranger with candy, or a puppy…”

These may still be too bizarre a juxtaposition of images to be accessable to most readers as erotica, but I firmly believe that it is through the eyes of artists and writers that we learn to expand our visions of the world…it’s a dirty job, but somebody has to do it.

It would be safe to say that both are forbidden images. I am neither a pedophile, nor do I take pleasure in the misfortune of children… EVER…but it is in the very nature of the forbiden word or image that empowers it.

Namasté

नमस्ते

Chazz Vincent

04/23/2015

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TTWDWW: When is Too Much Just Right or Just Too Much?

Posted in Dangerous and Unsavory ideas that are possibly harmful to the weak-mided and overly simplistic and religious, Dirty, Explicit Sexual Language, First Amendment Rights, inspiration, Mature Theme, Much Too Good For Children, NSFW, Philosophical Sexuality, Possibly Dangerous to Everyone, Post-Neo, This Thing we do with Words, this thing we do with words with tags , , , , on April 24, 2015 by dreamlanddancing

This Thing We Do with Words, a slight return.

Part Nine

When is Too Much Just Right or Just Too Much?

Then again, I consider my own form of “enhanced and fortified non-fiction” to be predominantly narrative story-telling, much like the verbal tradition of the great American Tall Tale.

As much as I like the challenge of the bon mots, if you were listening rather than reading, you wouldn’t have the luxury of going to the dictionary every page.

Although I consider Tom Robbins to be one of the most brilliant authors of our time, his propensity for excess regarding obfuscation was perhaps best personified in “Fierce Invalids Home from Hot Climates” when the protagonist, “Switters” used the term phrontifugic (A reference to banishing or relieving anxiety by escaping from one’s thoughts).

As fond as I am of those bon mots, he alone has prompted me to go to the dictionary more than any other author. The Urban Dictionary, which was the only source I could find that used it in context, had to resort to quoting his own sentence in order to use phrontifugic as an example. Wikipedia does not recognize it, nor does Wiktionary.

It is currently the most obscure word I have ever encountered, but his prodigious talent as a novelist inspires me to want to be a better author.

In 2005, (Wild ducks Flying Backward) he stated that given the abysmal state of our national consciousness, if we can’t get our heads out of our own asses, the only hope left was to perfect brewing your own beer and making a good thin-crust pizza.

He described his last book, entitled “B is for Beer” (2009) as either a children’s book for adults or an adult book for children.

I got the distinct impression that “B is for Beer” was his way of flipping off his publisher for one last book. He is now 82 years old. If he were to publish another more challenging book, I don’t know if it would receive the wide-spread readership he once enjoyed. Not so much because of any shortcomings on his part, but rather an increasingly short supply of readers willing to make that much of a commitment.

I did not purchase “B is for Beer”. It took less than twenty minutes to read standing up in Barnes and Noble. Of course, maybe I was the moron for not recognizing its inherent brilliance.

In the near-silence of the bookstore, I was surprised no one heard my heart breaking.

Maybe he was right. Literature (by virtue of participation) is one of the hottest mediums of expression or entertainment there is. Two of the most important things you can bring to this picnic are an appetite, and an imagination.

A few decades ago, Marshall Mcluhan described Television and Film as a cool medium. Now it is colder than a gynecologist’s speculum. They only require an appetite or just boredom, like junk-food. There is no longer any need for imagination. Everything else is already provided, courtesy of digital effects. All you have to do is show up and pay your money. Television and Film are easy and seductive, so it is rapidly displacing Literature and reading as entertainment.

In a world of passive entertainment, reading is becoming as arcane and superfluous as conversation, letters, writers or readers.

Reading and thinking are just too much like work to the masses who “live lives of quiet desperation”.

Namasté

नमस्ते

Chazz Vincent

04/23/2015

 

TTWDWW: Define Your Purpose, Choose Your Audience

Posted in A Dirty Mind is A Terrible Thing To Waste, Dangerous and Unsavory ideas that are possibly harmful to the weak-mided and overly simplistic and religious, Dirty, Explicit Sexual Language, First Amendment Rights, Mature Theme, Much Too Good For Children, NSFW, Polyamory, Possibly Dangerous to Everyone, Post-Neo, This Thing we do with Words, this thing we do with words with tags , , , , , , on April 24, 2015 by dreamlanddancing

This Thing We Do with Words, a slight return.

Part Seven

Define Your Purpose, Choose Your Audience

Let’s face it, most of the great works of our civilization are now almost never read at all, and certainly would never have become famous or commercially successful today, especially given the “idiocracy” of our semi-literate cultural and educational system.

Much like the question “would you rather be right or happy?”, one may well ask “would you rather be famous and rich, or masterful and original?”

I am also reminded that even Literotica in and of itself is not my primary objective.

It is my goal to write creatively, imaginatively and never look away. As a result, I get my strongest support from my fellow travelers in the Kink/Fet community in general and Polyamory in particular.

Although I generally have come to believe that my lack of singularity of purpose as an erotic author has caused some to regard me as too esoteric, while the “serious” aficionados of Post-Modern Literature (or perhaps Post-Post-Modern) may find me too sexually preoccupied.

Sadly, as the practitioners of Post-Modern continue to age, it may all too soon become Post-Mortem. I prefer the label “Post-Neo”.

Most erotica has suffered from its narrow perspective. The fact that its primary intent is to sexually stimulate the reader is not a bad thing, it is just limited.

There is no reason one cannot be intellectually and sexually stimulated at the same time, and in fact for me, it almost has to be that way.

To me, Life is erotic. Mystery is erotic. Challenge and Adventure are erotic. “My advisors” tell me that criminal activity is also erotic, and Danger is most definitely erotic.

While the rest of the entire animal kingdom is dancing to a tune called “Let’s Fuck” Man alone tries to separate brains, hearts and genitalia into convenient categories, (despite whatever Feud may have had to say on the subject) as if they operated independently of each other.

There are few stories worth telling, let alone reading or listening to that do not have an undercurrent of erotica within the actualities of the entire story. As a culture, we are still so conditioned by embarrassment regarding sex that we think that there is no relevance to include it in “serious” works.

The film “Einstein and Eddington” is a perfect example.

Most people would not equate General Relativity, or Quantum Mechanics with the backstory of a man with both a family and a mistress, but then again, I personally find both subjects to be very sexy…but maybe that’s just me.

I was heartened to learn of his polyamorous history. I was already aware of his idiosyncrasies as well as his amazingly off-beat humor, but this just garnered more respect for him in me.

He was fearless in very fearful, judgmental times.

Although the film did not explore the erotic details of Einstein’s life, given the narrative, I believe that there would have been tremendous potential for truly erotic dramatic action.

After all, who knows what a man with enough imagination to come up with the Theory of Relativity might be capable of in the bedroom, or who-knows-where else? If they lived “in my perfect world”, they would have all gotten a house by the sea.

Namasté

नमस्ते

Chazz Vincent

04/23/2015

 

TTWDWW: Men and Women

Posted in "Magic Hat", A Dirty Mind is A Terrible Thing To Waste, Dangerous and Unsavory ideas that are possibly harmful to the weak-mided and overly simplistic and religious, Dirty, Explicit Sexual Language, First Amendment Rights, Mature Theme, Much Too Good For Children, NSFW, Possibly Dangerous to Everyone, Sex, This Thing we do with Words with tags , , , , on April 24, 2015 by dreamlanddancing

This Thing We Do with Words, a slight return.

Part Six

Men and Women

We clearly are not either programmed or hard-wired the same, and therein lies the real challenge…how do you write erotica for both sexes…can it even be done?

Whether it be adult film, or erotic literature, clearly women’s standards are much higher, and require a more sophisticated approach.

A man is less likely to sit through a great deal of artsy prologue to set up the characters or provide any motivation (other than pure lust) unless there is sufficient hard-core action to justify the investment in time, money or effort.

In this respect, men have been more drawn toward film, and less likely to read erotica, while film producers had to refine their game to appeal to a female audience.

One of my favorite erotic writers (see above, previous posts) described an erotic encounter quite splendidly in terms of narrative action, yet the way in which she described the dramatic action of the mental and emotional Flamenco dance going on within her character gave me insights into her psyche in a way that has illuminated my male perspective of sex and her push-pull dynamics of conquest, surrender, dominance, submission, victory and vindication and has left me forever changed, providing a new gold standard for my own writings; not to copy her style…so much as her outlook, or approach, as well as to view sex through a woman’s eyes, and feel it through her heart.

This is not just simple rhetoric, or choice of words, but rather a new paradigm for a three-dimensional description and analysis of everything sexual on many different levels.

After all, the smallest human brain dwarfs the even the largest human penis.

She also stated that as much as she feels comfortable with the word “pussy” she found herself perplexed by the use of the word as a derogatory expression of one man describing another man. She also appropriately asked if men like pussy so much, why would they use the word to insult each other?

I had to think about that one for awhile….

I have come to believe that it is out of fear and insecurity.

Macho bravado (and old-guard politics) aside, the only advantage men have over women would appear to be upper body strength, and possibly spatial equations.

Genetics and hormones easily account for the upper-body advantage. My own experiences involving police and fire department physical agility tests have reinforced the paradigm that when it comes to core strength as well as lower-body strength, we are about equal.

I also think the perceived advantage with spatial equations is a result of environmental and behavioral influences. After all, if a woman spends most of her life being told how “that” was nine inches despite the fact that it clearly wasn’t, it might get confusing….

Also, another friend of mine once coined the term “Magic Hat” to describe her vagina because it certainly did seem as if it was much larger on the inside than the outside. She was fortunate enough to have plenty of opportunity to prove it to be true….

So much for spatial equations.

Females on the other hand are routinely more robust and healthy at birth than males, and mature more quickly. The sexual superiority of women is inarguable. Now matter how sexually satisfied one man may be capable of rendering a woman, the chances are that two men could have done it better, and she would have been more than capable of thoroughly satisfying both of them.

Not to mention that the vagina in the toughest, strongest, and most resilient organ in the universe. Stretch it, and she begs for more. Pummel and pound it with a penis (or two) until there is not an erg of energy left in your body and she may love you for it if you do it right, but most men will not be lucky enough to stay awake long enough to hear her thank them for it afterwards.

(It’s not our fault…in the days of our progenitors, those sleep-inducing hormones secreted after ejaculation probably allowed the female to escape Homo Erectus’ cave after being dragged there, so as to facilitate the perpetuation of the species.)

Now the tables are turned to where the latter-day cave-man (Homo Moronicus) believes “you don’t pay her to have sex with you…you pay her to leave”.

Man has clearly not evolved as rapidly as the female of the species, and deep within our souls, we know it.

“It can stretch a mile before it will tear an inch” and still snap back like a new rubber band. If men had to birth children, most would die of shock from the pain, and we would have become an extinct species long ago.

Like a Timex watch…they can “take a lickin’ and keep on ticking”…(in more ways than one).

It’s more like a matter of misplaced Envy of something they do not understand, and few men are capable of comprehending anything that can bleed for five days and not die.

Because even the most feminine and “girly” women are so characteristically underestimated and marginalized by most men, “tom-boys” and lesbians intimidate those men in dysfunctional and unhealthy ways that often result in derision and fear.

God bless all women everywhere in all of their magnificent diversity. I still cannot comprehend how they find us attractive at all, or why they are not all lesbians…I know that if I were a woman, I would be.

Balls, the twin symbols of everything masculine, on the other hand are so unnaturally sensitive as to render men vulnerable and fearful. If you were to treat them as roughly as one might a raw egg, even the most virile chest-beating alpha-male can be rendered into a quivering, sobbing mess. Regardless of Achilles’ heel, I can guarantee his balls were even weaker.

In my life, I can only remember less than a half-dozen times when I was fortunate enough to simultaneously bed two women with enough stamina and endurance that they both expressed they had had enough…at least of me, and for the time being.

Most of the rest of the times, I felt more like a novelty or toy shared between them as they pleasured each other in my most grateful presence.

Most men are just not vagina-friendly and don’t understand the difference between liking “pussy” and loving women.

Namasté

नमस्ते

Chazz Vincent

04/23/2015

 

TTWDWW: Descriptions vs. Specific Words or Sounds

Posted in A Dirty Mind is A Terrible Thing To Waste, Dangerous and Unsavory ideas that are possibly harmful to the weak-mided and overly simplistic and religious, Dirty, Explicit Sexual Language, First Amendment Rights, Mature Theme, Much Too Good For Children, NSFW, Possibly Dangerous to Everyone, This Thing we do with Words with tags , , , on April 24, 2015 by dreamlanddancing

This Thing We Do with Words, a slight return.

Part four

Descriptions vs. Specific Words or Sounds

So it would seem to follow that as tenable as any choice of specific erotic words may be, the real challenge remains to effectively describe something.

By definition, any choice of commonly used words associated with sex are in a sense a cliché compared to original descriptive phrases, but then again there comes the point of convenience overriding originality.

I also like the use of words to create sounds that produce specific gut reactions…not onomatopoeia per se, but rather sounds that trigger feelings.

Like the Sibilance of S’s…(Hiss at a cat, and see what happens). Resonances can be be provocative…hum the letter M in a lover’s ear, and you get my drift. Labio-dental affricatives like F’s and V’s are good, but they pale in comparison to the implied speed and power of Z’s or the inherent mystery of X. (By the way, I drive a Nissan 300ZX…speed, power and mystery….)

The other problem, of course is the repetition…how do you prevent it? There are only so many suitable words.

Take a word like box. To use it to describe a vagina is so lame and déclassé as to make it (I hope) beyond the realm of possibility of ever hearing or reading it in anything erotic (possibly because it reminds me too much of my teenage years in New Jersey, somewhere between Comedy and Tragedy, between Avalon and Philly).

The only conceivable use of Box might be to have it used in dialogue to establish an unsympathetic portrayal of an unlikable character. Most erotica is not complex enough to introduce unlikable characters, in much the same way as they almost never involve average-or-less-sized cocks.

But to use the expression Pandora’s Box as an indirect allegory for instance, to an initial intimate contact fraught with crossing a point of no return that can never be undone imparts dramatic action to simple narrative action.

The word snatch has been done a disservice by its vulgarization and associations with the “type” of people who use it, but if you think about it…as a verb, it means to grab, to catch, or to ensnare, either forcefully or serupticiously…with no implied intent of ever giving it back.

If one catches something there is a more neutral connotation. If you catch a cold, it is a passive act.

I have never heard of “snatch and release”, even among sportsmen, yet “snatch and grab” has the all the allure of crime and danger.

Like Garam Masala, Cayenne, or even Cardamom, each has its own flavor that can either spoil or enhance unless used judiciously.

There is a time and a place for even snatch.

I like snatch.

Namasté

नमस्ते

Chazz Vincent

04/23/2015

This Thing We Do with Words, a slight return. Criticism

Posted in A Dirty Mind is A Terrible Thing To Waste, criticism, Dangerous and Unsavory ideas that are possibly harmful to the weak-mided and overly simplistic and religious, Dirty, Explicit Sexual Language, First Amendment Rights, inspiration, Mature Theme, Much Too Good For Children, NSFW, Philosophical Sexuality, Possibly Dangerous to Everyone, Sex, This Thing we do with Words with tags , , , , on April 24, 2015 by dreamlanddancing

This Thing We Do with Words, a slight return.

Part three

Criticism

Everybody imagines themselves to be a critic, which probably explains why there seem to be a lot more critics than worthwhile writers.

H.L. Mencken once said that it if they took all the broken, mismatched or flawed pieces that were left over from making a writer, and put them together, what you got was a critic. (I am admittedly paraphrasing from memory.)

One of the other things we do with words is ridicule. And criticize, and nothing assures harsh criticism as surely as success.

And regardless of the level of success or recognition of the critic, mean-spirited derision tends to make me suspect that a great deal of personal unhappiness or jealousy on the part of the critic has prompted their words.

I mention this because I recently read a very clever author recommended to me by a friend, whom I expected to thoroughly enjoy, only to find myself as saddened by the bitterness of her criticisms as I was disappointed by her own original works. Not bad…just nothing special, especially for someone with such strong opinions.

The result of those reflections has left me near-mute for almost two weeks, prompting me to re-evaluate my own works, especially in regard to the editing and refining of my second novel.

It seems as if the current straw dog for literature, especially Literotica is Fifty Shades of Grey. Of course it is…the author is now a multi-millionaire while the rest of us aspire to be considered at least worthwhile authors.

Until recently, I never stopped to think about how difficult it is to entice the modern reader to take the time and make the emotional investment to read anything at all, at least for pleasure.

In seeking the attainment of good literature we are talking about creating an almost mystical state of mind invoking the “willing suspension of disbelief”.

This author/critic quoted numerous examples of the bad writing or choices of words by her target (E. L. James). Some of James’ expressions sounded clever enough to me, while quite a few of the critics’ own examples of acceptable alternatives were quite banal. (IMHO).

I went to her website again and read a few more entries. Nothing special. I applied the same negativity and mean-spirited attitude to myself…perhaps she was right…maybe everybody sucks…including her.

E. L. James may be an easy target. You can trash her works with a fair degree of certainty in knowing that no one will spring to her defense and in the process make yourself sound quite clever.

Literary bullies are nothing new…Physician (or critic) heal thyself.

This has everything to do with subjectivity. What I may find engaging and challenging may be excessive or esoteric to someone else. A word that elicits images of salacious desire in one mind may sound vulgar, crude, or inappropriate to the mind of another.

Erotica…good erotica is more difficult in this respect than most other genres because it is so specialized. In order to gain mass appeal, one has to find a universality that transcends the specifics well enough to translate individually to each reader personally.

But to paraphrase, just as you can’t please all the people all of the time, you also can’t seduce all the people all the time. Male or female, some prefer blondes or redheads and fair skin. Others are attracted to rugged good looks, vs. refined features, or dark skin, kind faces, intimidating demeanors, muscular or soft…it goes on forever, but as we all hope, “for every pot, there’s a lid”. (Yet another shop-worn phrase.)

I could feel the self-doubt rising within me again.

Do I wish or need to re-invent myself? Maybe.

I’m still not convinced that I have been completely authentic. I may still be caught up in the neurotic trap of trying to please others instead of satisfying myself. (The same rules for good sex are not necessarily true of creative endeavors.)

When you present your work to the public, it is already finished, unless you do it a chapter at a time on your blog like my last novel, and even then, you still have to stay true to your craft and your vision. As long as you are genuine, if you really believe it to be your best, it really doesn’t matter what other people think.

I would rather have a small following of readers who enjoy my best work, something of which I can be proud, than to make a whore of myself pandering to a public that I do not respect, and does not respect me.

I didn’t start writing to get rich. I write because I have to…because I am compelled to write.

I write for the same reasons an alcoholic drinks.

Namasté

नमस्ते

Chazz Vincent

04/22/2015

 

This Thing We Do with Words, a slight return, pt. II

Posted in A Dirty Mind is A Terrible Thing To Waste, Biggest Sex Organ, Collaboration, Dangerous and Unsavory ideas that are possibly harmful to the weak-mided and overly simplistic and religious, Dirty, Enhanced and Fortified non-fiction, Enhanced and Fortified non-fiction, Explicit Sexual Language, First Amendment Rights, gratitutde, His Penis Her Vagina, Imp Of The Perverse, Jantor To The Temple Of The Holy of Holies, Liason, Mature Theme, Memoires of a Post-Neo Dharma Bum, Much Too Good For Children, NSFW, Philosophical Sexuality, Polyamory, Possibly Dangerous to Everyone, Sex, Suki, The Id, the willing suspension of disbelief, This Thing we do with Words, Vagina with tags , , , , , , , , on April 24, 2015 by dreamlanddancing

This Thing We Do with Words, a slight return, pt. II

My Muses

One of the things we do with words is to inspire. Writers do not live in a vacuum, but no matter what we do within our own lives, nothing beats a different perspective from outside of ourselves to introduce new ideas, questions and influences.

Those people are my muses, my wells of inspiration from which I drink, be it the refreshingly cold, clear water of underground springs fed by mountain streams from far away or warm, mysterious draughts from jungle pools or even hot, flavored waters, exuding enticing perfumes of unknown origins.

Some provide an occasional cautious sip, while others compel me to slake my thirst until it is sated. Some help me clear my mind while others intoxicate me in inexplicable ways like a vampire on a blood-feast, but I have been blessed to be influenced by several for whom I am most grateful.

This post was initially inspired by a discussion of pet words for the genitalia of either sex as well as the associated body parts or functions one might be inclined to use in erotic writings, to which we would aspire to attain the level of Literotica.

Jayne of DiaryIncarnate at WordPress prompted a renewal of the discussion when she recently made reference to what she referred to as a “Dickipedia”. I am a regular visitor to her website and I am quite fond of her poetry, but both her prose and verse frequently give me “paws” to think and reflect upon her eternally questioning mind.

Although we have never met in person, she has a real talent for bringing out both the rogue and the gentleman in me, and I sense that I am not alone in that assessment of her effect on men.

About a year ago, Anastasia, the charming and provocative astraltravler of WordPress and I collaborated on a piece called His Penis, Her Vagina, to address the plethora of synonyms for the two major taxons regarding the plumbing of the sexes, but we quickly realized that many terms, like Meat-Whistle, One-eyed Trouser Snake, Cooter, or Poontang (sometimes hyphenated), are at best considerably more hilarious than erotic, and at worst just plain disgusting. Some were both.

Later collaborations between Anastasia, with my wife (Yen4)Suki and myself have proven much more worthwhile and productive, although we have been a bit pensive about writing about the results…and I don’t know why, because none of us are what one would call shy.

Suki and I had collaborated on a piece that was essentially her story over six months ago, that to date remains unpublished. All I did was help her organize and word the story, as she related her experiences to me, but it is a great piece in more ways than one, especially because it needed so little embellishment or enhancement.

As erotic adventures go, I would wish that all women could experience such a milestone adventure on a milestone birthday.

Her thirtieth was almost as good, but I was there to witness, encourage and participate with her on that occasion.

That’s just the way we roll. I hope she shares it soon.

I must be the luckiest man in the world to be so inspired by these three muses.

One is mine, but she is too precious and free-spirited to hoard or keep to myself. Another is shared and comes and goes like a tropical breeze, the muse of my muse. Only the third is a woman of mystery whom I cannot distinguish from Oasis or Mirage; who comes to me on tiptoes as silent as an assassin to whisper enticing provocations into my ear like a long-lost lover from another lifetime.

Although the initial impetus of this post centered around erotica, it quickly developed a life of its own and ran off the rails onto the much larger tracks leading to the subject of creative expression and inspiration in general.

For that reason, I have decided to publish it in installments.

Namasté

नमस्ते

Chazz Vincent

04/20/2014

 

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