Serious research

"... introductions began with an attractive young woman who said, "My name is Tracy and I'm into heavy pain, heavy humiliation, and I belong to John." The next woman, a pretty blonde, said, "My name is Gilda; I'm into heavy pain, heavy humiliation, and I belong to John." The next speaker was a short, middle-aged, bald black man who said, with a big smile: "I'm John." "

Charles Moser, Bound to be Free.

And while scribbling on in the New Book I came to wonder, what do guys wear when they ride, I mean I can wear anything, but then, I don't have balls... so after a bit of research I came across this funny thread where a fourteen years old boy had nearly gelded himself on the saddle when his horse unexpectedly went off at a canter. Various experienced riders suggested a jock strap or somewhat tight briefs to hold the package close to home, but concluded saying that in the end he'd have to stuff an hand down his pants occasionally to pull the good up. To which the young nearly-eunuch replied somewhat shocked, "I can't stuff a hand in my pants, my mom and girlfriend always come to see me riding!".

I don't know, but I never giggled so much while writing children books.

Baby Blues

"Sunrise" (unfinished) - K.W. 2006

"All of a sudden, with the perfect clarity provided by half a bottle of Chianti, I can appreciate the whole anatomy of my loneliness. I finished my painting and I feel lost, empty. An orphan.

While I was painting it, every brush stroke had a story, every highlight, every shadow had a complicated but familiar identity... now, even now, and I finished the painting only this morning, everything is lost, confused in the harmonious whole of the finished picture, and everything looks farther away, colder, and I am immensely alone, separate, away from his skin and his life, on the wrong side of the frame... until this morning, I was there with him, in the painting, and without me, he would not have lived, all the shadows, all the highlights, all his destiny was in my hands, without me, he would have never lived, the painting breathed my breath, if I had died yesterday it would have died with me, if I died now, the painting would remain... our lives are not bound anymore.

I finished "Sharp Edge" and lost it.

I finished "Sharp Edge" and I will never LIVE it again.

I finished "Sharp Edge" and I am alone, alone, alone."

(From my journal, 2005)

I always have a terrific bout of depression whenever I finish any really heartfelt creative project, and I still have not quite recovered from finishing my last story ("Head-shy").

I feel as if my characters kicked me out of their world, ok, thank you, we don't need you anymore now, go play somewhere else. Assholes.

Dreamweaver

"Dreamweaver", K.W. 2011

"He does not need opium. He has the gift of reverie." ~Anais Nin

Book title giggles

So, off I go to the Kindle store  to see if I can download "Bound to be free: SM experience", and what I find is "Bound to be Free: Evangelical Catholic Engagements in Ecclesiology, Ethics and Ecumenism"  (the second book is by far the most recent)... oh Lord, lmao!!

I wonder if the author of this thing ever bothered to google his chosen title before publishing or if he just found himself on the same Amazon page with the-really-naughty gang by surprise.