Waiting for her bacon ginger beer and lashings. Oddly perched on that chair. Is the seat chilly? Is she ready to run? What a fine chair! The scene cries out for rope.

& someone had to go to the shops.

someone had to go make the tea

Back in the Box

A Mary Ellen Mark photo that I think belongs with this Leonard Cohen stanza:

I heard of a saint who had loved you

so I studied all night at his school

He taught that the duty of lovers

was to tarnish the golden rule

Just when I was sure that his teachings were pure

he drowned himself in the pool

His body is gone but back here on the lawn

his spirit continues to drool.

.

Also I googled 'poopiehead', it, like everything else on the stupernet, it is infinite.

Trance

Another Weegee (the man is becoming a hero for me), they are a a voodoo service. These two are connected right now. I love his handwriting in bluegreen ink. & to think of his flashbulb burning for a microsecond in the gloom. Did people turn and look to see where it came from? The guy had balls.

.

My day started with a knock on the door of my sister's spare bedroom. Called 'come in' & in strode my twin nieces who I babysat last night so their folks could catch a movie. "We waited until the snoring stopped before we knocked". They will be four soon and have one of the most wonderful human relationships I've ever seen. They would gossip & giggle with each other way way before any adults could understand them. One of their first words was a name that they both used for the other when addressing other people. eg "one for ???" when asking for another one of a treat to take to her twin. At breakfast they earnestly invited me to church with them but I said I had to get back to the sprog. Got home to a large motorcycle in the driveway.

?

!

. . . . ok . . .

Will you be much longer Dear?

This photograph I like very much. Very "Reader's Wives". I imagine a young wed couple. He is a camera enthusiast with a darkroom under the stairs, she an intelligent woman with a mounting sense of resentment toward the man she married. WHAT a lovely home they have! The modish plants are healthy, the white upholstery clean, & china bric-a-brac precludes long-tailed dogs & children.
There's something in her hips that protests, she had been directed & posed but no simple order could enlist the cooperation of that bum. Her butt just doesn't have her heart in it. Thats part of why I like it - the sadistic part. The other part wonders what she'd be like happy & horny.

my uncles from the old country

My dear old uncle Ron & Don, cousins & sparing partners. Don died in WW2, Ron I knew in his dotage.

more swamp

Found this last night, the joys of specialization!

Royalty

These two, photographed by Dorothea Lange in the dustbowl during the depression. I can see him as a young Commander Badidea with his attendant in the background. They look like royalty.

Devotee

Sweet little flapper buddist. Reefer-Madness poster girl. In thrall of dark forces!

Notice how her pearls sway in front of the open shutter while she stays still. How long did she hold her breath still? ten, thirty seconds? longer? Perhaps not even be a shutter, perhaps a lens cap or back velvet held in gnarled, shaking hands.

Her knees sink into the soft ground and she leans on the table. The black in the corner by her restless foot is turning into shiny silver with age. It means the print is decaying & we left with only pixels.

She spent hours in the darkroom and under the retoucher's brush; separating the statue from the curtain, deepening the shadows on her thighs & dodging up the glow of her back. The alchemist conjures her from apothecary.

on the rocks

This is one of my other favorite erotic artforms. The paperback cover. A very no-nonsense medium at its best. I just love the thought of those old time jobbing artists (utterly not prima-donnas) working up these ambitious images on deadlines & pasteboard. It looks much better than this photo -I need photoshop or something. The blue is more like this type.
The raw mercantile sexuality is great - this art is crafted to seduce and corrupt - I love it! Look at her, bobbing about with the icecubes in a drink, literally drenched in sin - god bless 'er. Woman as corrupting commodity.

swamp-women

Now this is cute.

Neither weak nor amazon.

Everything is feral except their tailored hair.

They could be hunting (or poaching even).

The two darkhaired huntresses may be returning from the hunt with their blond, dazed, prey.

Or are they sisters, newly women, walking home from their coming-of-age rites?

Or are they on the way to the initiation?

Who holds the camera? Who has (from left to right); the admiration & compliance of the tallest?, the incredulity of the fairhaired shortest?, & the disdain but obedience of last.

SPY ME

Me as afterimage, caught in the final flash of the dying lightbulb, projected by the persistence of vision onto staring retinas, defensive palms. Commander Badidea found out by night vision photography. Snapped in the shadows making his pervert map.

Commander BadIdea Smile

Thats better, the weekend. IN PRAISE OF FRIDAYS, bless em. Last friday, for instance, was the day we three inductees got out desks & stuff. Little girl rHS was briefly struck dumb when shown the statonery & copy room. Only briefly speechless she asked if she could have a holepunch and was told yes, just help yourself & sign for it. She then asked; if she could have some scissors, if she could swap her holepunch for a red one, & how many different types of post-its she could have. Christmas dawning as the answer to the first question was repeated three times. I got her the biggest box I could find to put it all in.
Back at our desks (I'm in a semi-circle with her & pinstripeJr.) she unpacked and arranged like a bride with her wedding presents, highlighters & notepads set out for the good future. She was crestfallen at the discovery that the pod walls were steel so her map-pins were useless but giggled when I pointed out some people had fridge magnets.
Spoke at the weekend with the beloved ex about how cute & young it seemed, she looked at me like the moron I am & said "its not coz shes young: girls are always like that".
This friday good too. They give us booze & snacks after work on friday. Sudden Homer Simpson sense of loyalty for employer. rHS had a thimble of white wine and enthused about going to stay with her granny this weekend. The sprog is out with a mate or the night, getting regular texts assuring me of propriety. Ran through her fallout boy song on the bass once before they went out at my insistence. The CD is quite witty & self-aware, I was expecting a more challenging listen.

& still more me

More self portrait, still in love with myself as Commander BadIdea. Here he is in the mirror. Every day I say I wont post or comment blog, every night I do.

good stuff today

1) Sprog practiced guitar for about half an hour without being nagged. Played along with a song on a CD several times (fallout bay) then sang to something I didn't recognize to another CD, went wild, sounded like a young sweet nico (velvet underground).
2) The beloved ex dropped round after work. She sat down with sprog & looked at ballgowns on the internet. Ballgowns - I am so very very out of my depth here. ex & sprog had a discussion about ballgowns. At the start of the discussion ballgowns were a stark choice between an impossible sum of $$$ or abject social disaster. Ballgowns are now the subject of a range of possibilities to be investigated and discussed further.
3) Sprog cooked, her mum called & talked about $$$ for ballgown, believe it when I see it.

other than that it was a normal day. That means passionless, tentative, aimless & like its all happening to someone else. As though the meaning of what I do & feel has to be shared among the people doing & feeling it: I'm not stuck in traffic or brushing my teeth - I'm just a tiny tiny part of stuck in trafficness or tooth brushingness.

Where are they now?

Will you look at these guys? FUCK-ING MAGNIFICENT! Is this what I'm looking for? These chaps didn't seek power - they invented power! Do they look dominant to you? - they do me. They look like I felt when I led my servant around by her leash that would pass between her legs to where it was fastened to a shakle that had a strong string tied to it, that had on its other end a large round bead, that was lodged snugly deep in her ass. Sometimes I would put the leash on a long pole so that I could walk (or run) her around in circles while i worked her back and ass with the longwhip. These guys - they had the known world on that leash.

good service

I want to say to the beautiful women who link through ekjsslave's blob (&thank you for linking 2 me, I'd do the same in return if I was more computer . . . good, I mean gooder) that I am delighted by the beautiful images that have been posted recently (you know who and where you are; public loo, coffee table, or too close-up to tell). Images of genuine passion & compulsion made by girls showing off their perfect servitude. Pats on the head & tickles under the chin all round.

PixelThief PetNapper

Here's a Man Ray photo, it think its of that major '20's muse & art chick who's name I cant remember. The time & place its from is where I'd run away to given a time machine & a blank cheque. But I'd probably get run over by a futureist on my first day. Man Ray was cool.
Stayed again with my pa last night (another day started with a cup of cowboy coffee delivered on wobbly legs), he watched rugby, the sprog had visitors (don't say 'party') at home. I suspect some kind of mischief but nothing that wouldn't have happened anyway in a bus shelter or parked car anyway. Its all best (or, at least, least worst) guess, & hoping for best (or, at least, least worst) outcome.
I photographed the cat most of the night - I'd post them but he's firmly declined to paw-print the release form.

(towards a) More Menacing Me

Flamedriver demon: hidden witness to all candlelit nakedness.
Chairman of the Bonfire.

I write your life large: first fuel, then fire, then ember, then ash.

= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =

heh heh heh. Spent last night at my pa's place alchohol & my nephew's camera. Stay at his place from time to time coz he's so old & sick (82 on monday!!!!!!!) and his 59 year old girlfriend (he's a beacon of hope to all lonely dirty old men) has to be away on business. Listening to him & the sprog discussing music videos (he watches a lot of tv):

"the frontman wore a great deal of eye & mouth makeup"
". . . oh you mean the one all in a tunnel?"

"no, I saw that one, but this was in a room that was filling up with water"

"oh thats "blah blah blah", they used to be good but their new stuff is badly gay"

A lengthy debate followed about the decency of the term 'badly gay'. I just ate my orange beef and drank beer. I'll need him till I put him in the ground & then I'll do without.

The reason

The reason I like old porn is because the relationship is simple between the medium, the message, & the model. Simple transactions that occurred so long ago still kick round accumulating the ability to ask questions. Precious little time machines.

newestnetnasty

Let me say to anyone who has been gracious enough to allow me to enjoy their likeness that I swear on my balls I would never publish any image of without permission. I steal royalties off good photographers but I'm not a cyber-rapist. So back with the self-portrait (it was here before but I was concerned about getting on a wanted poster (I'm on enough unwanted posters as it is). Hoping thing are sorted now, I did have photos of one woman stored on my hardrive - now deleted. Spooky looking creep huh?

crackle

Three weeks into the new job & I still hate it less than the old one (grimly counting blessings .. .). Today was pretty sucky though, last day before we sit our test to get on the phones. They starting to worry we'll stuff up & make them look bad so it was a solid day of earnest swot. rHS loved it, a chance to show how good she is.
The highlight of the day was while marking our mock tests with Junior Pinstripe the teenage company man. He told her she had a question wrong, she was not having it, proved herself right, & humbly but determinedly extracted an acknowledgement & retraction from the little snot. Her self-satisfaction was gorgeous but she didn't gloat at all, just sweetly turned to the next question. Next question she got wrong - out & out wrong. Mortified now, she actually pulled her roll neck jumper (a modest wee dresser in general) up over her head & made embarrassed noises in her southland accent. I gave her an avuncular rub on the shoulder, pleased that Commander BadIdea didn't even roll over in his sleep. None-the-less the sight of a chagrined woman always improves my day. Spoiled immediately by the reptilian sneer on the face of Pinstp Jnr. At least he's sure to be utterly cunt-whipped by his fiance (who he mentions roughly every 90mins), and his Mum (with whom he's moved back in with to save a deposit for a house).
Then parent teacher meetings: the Spanish teacher is seriously hot (& the sprog doing good in class), english teacher was singularly unprepossessing, bore a nose permanently wrinkled - suggestive of making the best of a bad situation (but the sprog is doing good in class).

'put on my lead boots 'n' take a long, long ride'

A better day at the farm. No sign of bossgirl (must find out what she does so I can invent a pretext to talk to her about it). rHR a delight as ever, I can afford to really appreciate how cute she is now that I've decided shes too young to hae. Two other hot chicks there too. Recuritment looks good. Not to mention the stunning Samoan girl who's wing I'll be under for my first week on the floor. She looks a laugh - told me I'm on a warning when I mispronounced her name. Not tall but solid, a netball player for sure, uncharted territory.

Been to my daughter's drama class production, being a proud dad coz my child has stage presence. My horny nephew was there too even though he didnt have to be and he'd gone to some effort to get there on an unpleasant night. I asked him how come? & he smiled & gazed at a young actress and sniffed loudly - she looked, only for an instant then back to her textphone, enchanting smirk from nephew. So very cool, I love kids (not in a creepy way) but I'm glad (& sad) that my one will leave at some point in the next 3-5yrs or so. I wouldn't be a teenager again though, I'm proud of getting through 43+ years of this without . . . whatever. I could have messed things up much worse. No sign of her mum - ratbag.

Got 2 CDS at lunchtime (the peril of a 60, rather than 30, min, lunchbreak):The Who - Who's next? now the soundtrack to a DNA saga (CSI?) but an album that one of my big brothers had when I was a nipper. Also Buddy Holly - a standard compilation but with 'brown-eyed handsome man' on it. Both I've had in the past or still have on LP (long-players!). They will go in the section labeled 'Old Man Music', next to 'bedwetter rock' section - james blunt, coldplay, etc.

What now?

Crappy day at my entry-level job. Finishing my four weeks 'training' (the word galls) and had my 'orientation day' (the term inspires). Looking forward to it becoming routine so I can become invisible. Had a tour of the company today, it's on two floors of seven-storey building that dates from the '20's.
So damn tusky these days, almost considering paying for sex for the 5th time in my life. Some very nice looking women at work.

The obvious one is rHS from my training group (galled again), she's 21, bored with her boyfriend of three years and sick of the dive they live in. Lovely girl, laugh lines round her eyes, questioning & attentive nature. However, not much in the way of breast or butt,and not a natural (although would be trainable over time). Too young & skinny though. Throw that little fishy back to swim upstream in the vanilla river for a few years.

bossgirl looks a bit promising though, nice tall curvy girl. Shes in a different pecking order than me so not my boss but she gets a desk, can't wait for my perch in the 'pod'. Fuck my job has demeaning language! But bossgirl has her own desk, expensive tasteful hair, spectacle frames and shoes. She crashed our class with sisterly giggles for our trainer (shit!) amid billowing skirt & black tights on very white legs. I decided that it was time to seize control of chocolates and offer them round. She blushed & declined (small eponymous victory). Reasonably grown-up and Natural. Wish me luck!

How I found my last Servant

A working day for a charity that neither of us could get out of.

The job was to pack small objects into boxes, these into larger boxes of 6 layers of eight, & these, in turn, to be taped up and packed into crates.

The work was divided up among tables of box-folders, box fillers, and me at the end taping the boxes and packing the crates.

Her job was at the final table, to bring the full boxes to me - all four hundred and something of them, each delivery was acknowledged with a grunt, or a smile, or ignored, or a conspiratorial swearword, or and combination thereof.
As I checked out her ass as it receded each time I noticed that its behavior mirrored exactly the nature of the preceding interaction.

A juicy sway when I'd say thanks, a locked level march when I wouldn't, a whore's strut when I gave her the opportunity to concur it was about time for a cup of tea, but the confirmation came when I called her back, pointed to a box on the bench as said 'that one's only got five layers'.

She look at me as though I'd just slapped her face, she went red & her nipples sat up. It was a long graceless walk (head down, shoulders slumped, ass moving sluggishly) over to the bench and to where she saw the full horror of her wrong-doing.

Poor wee sub, she knocked the box on the floor and gave me a look I wouldn't see again until well into her first whipping.

The bitch pup had good instincts though; she turned away from me and bent over, straight-kneed, to repack the box.

I watched the dancing denim until I started getting harder than I could hide.
So I went back to taping up boxes to take my mind off her butt.

At the screech of the tape dispenser she made one of the sexiest sounds I've ever heard, a mixture of a grunt & a whimper that told she was available to be owned.

I could have put a rope around her neck and taken her home then & there.

READERSHIP DOUBLED!

Rosebud, you are my 2nd welcome visitor. Up till now its just been me & Chattel chatting (say hello chattel). Your idea for a photo sounds great, rest assured many other men will have admired you. If I get another sub I'll be blogging her training and welcome the insight of trained subs. Good girls.

Imogen Cunningham

This picture moved me, it has the adult; theatre, tension, risk, passion, space, beauty, trust, freedom & joy that I want.

my*life*as*words

thought i'd best check stagger just in case I'd been confusing (I'm known 4 it). Looked round a bunch of other blogs (even left a comment on 1) after posting last night. Getting a better grip on 'net corporeality. Does ANYONE EVER delete ANYTHING?

I'll stick with stagger now because thats who I am here, although sorely tempted to rename; 'my life as words & pixels'. Although some1 else has probably thought of it. Kia Ora can mean 'goodbye', 'I agree', 'you're welcome', but mostly it says hello. You asked 2 questions. Some1 said the main human impulse, the one that motivates all action, is the urge to tell other people who we are. Wish I could remember who said that - think it was a secretary general of the UN, love to have the exact quote. So questions are important and you have earned honesty from me.

Why delete?

Because I was worried i'd messed with your head (been in trouble for that in the past).

Because I was stung by the realisation that they were all just words on a monitor.

Because at the time I extrapolated that to mean that you were meaningless too. Since then calmer elements of the psyche have interrogated me as to why I'm not sulking about my ex or wanking over porn right now. Unexpected bonus: I'm easier around her now & we salvage more & more of our old love as friendship.
Because I'm touchy & frustrated. I'm dismayed by the thought of how difficult it would be to maintain even a vanilla relationship. Whakama.
Because I nag mt 15 year old about her 'net use & presence.
Because you had expressed concerns about your privacy.

Why does it feel like I'm disappearing? Golly! You invite me to speculate about your feelings? That's trusting in a small way. Not asking for honesty but insight! OK then:
Because you know in the end everyone says goodbye (even if they dont know it at the time).
Because you had forgotten, or didn't believe me, when I said I wouldn't vanish.

Because you aren't smug or stupid so life is confusing - this makes happiness harder to find but more meaningful.

Kia Ora (be well)

The real world is the one that counts. I guess right now I'm both words & pixels on your monitor but that wont make me any realer. I wont ask anything that would oblige you to answer. Wont be posting for a week or so. You, of course are just words & pixels to me as well but as far as I know I like you. I answered my own 'indignity' (awful choice of word) question. Through servitude the subservient woman escapes the power economy, that is the exchange.
.
.
.
.

s

t

a

g

g

r