In November 2021 I was recovering from surgery after having been sick since January 2020 with a vast cascade of painful damages, which I won’t get into right now. In November, having finally addressed a major issue with the removal of an internal organ, I experienced a rebirth of my libido, which had been largely dormant for the duration of the sickness. I dove headfirst into chastity and started writing again. The writing is structured based on my cumulative experiences of writing development. The purpose of the style I’m using is to effectively communicate my authenticity and I break most of the traditional rules associated with narrative styles. I hope you all find it worth your time. The book I wrote and am still writing passed the standard novel length benchmark of 50,000 words a few weeks ago. Each chapter contains a distinct period of time, which I have been measuring by a day count, with the chapters roughly filling a handwritten notebook or composition book. Everything is a work in progress with working titles, but right now there are 4 chapters completed (Ch 1: Subspace, Ch 2: 50 Days to Wonderland, Ch 3: Weedy, Ch 4: In Travel Status). Right now, I’m working from home, and it is currently Day 9 of this chapter, which I’ve been calling Unsafe Word. This is a fresh excerpt from this chapter, subtitled Madness Dwells Here. Heads up – the shifts in points of view are intentional – sometimes I’m talking first person, sometimes I shift to second person and talk to myself, sometimes I shift to second person and talk to you, and sometimes I mention “we” or something similar…when I’m speaking about the multiple versions of me coexisting in me. I’ll insert [explanations] when and if I think they’re needed, to provide context. Enjoy. Day 6 – After Midnight – Garage – Wednesday – 2/16/22 Six days at home already? Of note – the letter I wrote Tasher while I was in Washington [Seattle] arrived on Monday, 2/14/22. It contained a transcription of tributes to Tasher, followed by a transcription of the end of 50 Daze [shorthand for 50 Days to Wonderland – for the longest chastity run I’ve done]. I gave her the first page with the tributes, and she liked that. I held the rest back because it was Valentine’s Day, and it didn’t seem right. Today I tried to give it to her, but she wouldn’t take it. She said, “I feel we’ve finally gotten back to a place where we enjoy each other, and that time was an intense period for me too. So, I don’t want to read it. I don’t want it. I don’t want to get pissed off all over again, because I’m afraid that’s how my read of it will turn out. I don’t want to have this reaction, and even if it isn’t your intent, it won’t matter if it’s how I feel as I interpret it from my side of the story.” Damn, do you feel that? That overriding sense of how right and honest she was being? I felt it too. I said, “Okay, absolutely, I’ll tell you what, I’m put to put this envelop right here.” I set it in an old bill-holder bound in blackened snakehide. The end of the letter protrudes from it, in her sightline when she’s sitting at her desk. “When you want to know, it’s right here and I’m going to leave it there.” I leave her access to all my writing. I do not hide any of it from her and I don’t really have to. She is also literally using the computer from USVI, when I wrote “Unbalanced Equation.” [that is an unpublished novel with some profoundly graphic BDSM, enough that I feel the laptop it was written on was somehow tainted by being used for its creation] 11AMish – Day 6 con’t Thoughts -Get all my writing (physical) in one place -Look for trends/patterns. -Recognize 50 Daze was legitimate slave-space, which I find is shifting more away with each passing day -I don’t know what kind of headspace I’m in right now. -Am I doing any good with my own hyper-real? [hyper-realities are things where you cannot distinguish the difference between the real and fabricated…here, it’s a reference to my attempts to both build my own hyper-real in my life, but also to destroy the hyper-reals I'm trapped in - by trying to find them] 11:28PM – Day 6 con’t Let’s talk kink. What I’d like to do here is formulate a crazy and extreme plan for a potential future action, to see where my head goes with it. I am going to level it up to the max though…so be forewarned… Madness Dwells Here First, research and find a reputable body piercer. Do a consultation with them where you let them examine your penis and make a recommendation for the most effective deep piercing (likely a Prince Albert or something I haven’t considered?) for the express stated goal of a solid-lasting-anchor for a permanent or near permanent capable metal chastity device. Then have it done. Purchase a severe custom chastity device with the most secure lock imaginable, and intended for foreverwear, yet also has notable erection deterrent Kali protrusions which must not cause so much pain as to not be viable for foreverwear. You should get MASOCHIST?...or, no…Venus In Furs engraved on it. You should not see it. You should go to a Mistress and ask her to order it and have it shipped to her, sealed in a heavily reinforced case of some sort with a crazy lock, some combination lock and then have sessions to go deeply over your most depraved fantasies. Give her your writing, for instance. Then, she picks the scariest Keyholder whose experienced and very into her sadism and derives enough pleasure she’d practically pay the sub to be hers. The box should be wrapped in graphic Sodom and Gomorrah art and it should have warnings on it, like it’s Pandora’s Box, like the Hellraiser Puzzle Box. Better yet, the box should contain a key for me – but locked in an actual insanely unbeatable puzzle box, with multiple layers of protection. I should be bound and put in sensory deprivation to be taken to her. She should take me to a dungeon lair and leave me for the Keyholder. The Keyholder should unlock the box and take the mystery device, and they should install it fully on me and it into place and put their key in whatever protected place those go. Then I should have the sensory deprivation slowly, partially, maddeningly removed. At this point, first it’s one ear that can hear, and they start explaining my new reality and how it’s going to be, and what we’re going to do. Then they should give me a good hard merciless taste of the world I’m being born into as the other sensory deprivations are gradually removed during the scene, where I’m being born into horror and agony as the taste is administered. “Your name is Freak to me. This is your only identity. You will never speak unless I directly command you to. If you ever try to tell me something I didn’t command you to say, I will punish you with whatever I want. I might impale you with hooks and suspend you in the air before I scourge you. I’m going to whore you out to other sadists and let them have their way with you, however they choose to channel their energies. I’m going to install you as a forced human toilet in a public bathroom for a weekend, or maybe a few weeks or more. It would be an entertaining experiment to see how long you could remain that way without dying. Maybe you would not die at all, my little Freak. What if I could leave you like that for years? You’re going to help me as my guinea pig test subject in many creative projects. In short, I’m going to explore actualizing hell on earth with you, Freak. I will destroy you and rebuild you into stranger and stranger things a thousand times and when I get bored, I’ll sell you. There are some interesting surgeons who enjoy fantastic vivisectioning, leveled up beyond Dr. Moreau’s simple animal-hybrid aspirations. Beyond the rules of the labs, they have some curious side-experimentation. Off the books, of course. They’re going to enjoy you after I’m finished, because now you’re in forevermore. You were such an eager and willing volunteer for this life. You’ve provided many materials, and there are so many Wonderland games we’re going to play, because of your persistence and the calculated effort you’ve made to get here, Freak. You allowed so much range for interpretation and innovation, and I you said at one point that you have no hard limits.” They take out my gag. “Say it, Freak. Say it like you mean it more than anything else you’ve ever said in your life. Convince me. Be honest. Tell me the truth…” “I have no hard limits.” They pull a plastic bag over my head. “I like breath-play.” They are experienced and a sadist and they use every trick in the book. Everything they said is true. Indescribably malevolent. And that’s my current fantasy. I am Freak. I dwell in Madness. HELLO My name is: Freak I am put back in full sensory deprivation and released back into the wild at my hotel. I go to my room and discover a large black and brass steamer trunk, sitting on the bed. On top of it is a stuffed manila envelope, which has “Open Me,” written on it in elegant calligraphy. I open it and find 13 letters. Each has script on the front and is sealed on the back with a large pink strip of tape. The scripts say: “Read Me First,” “Read Me Second,” and so on. [Did you note the they/them pronoun usage? Why would The Keyholder need a gender?] Day 7 – Garage – 2/17/22 1:25AM – There was the beginning to one of those permanent-damage consensual-non-consents. My obvious projection of myself as Freak with the missing details which would have been known if the whole book was read, and the whole breath-play part – because breath-play is currently near the top of my hard limits because of the full panic attack that would cause me after the near-death breathing trauma that took me down in USVI [medical evacuation]. No greater horror than to let a sadist know the quickest way to kill a fantasy of yours than to give away a near guaranteed trauma-panic-attack you have. Quite a reality check if that happened. Actual horror, terror, and the desecration of implied and stated boundaries. One of the top things you didn’t want to happen is happening and there’s nothing you can do but succumb to the exploitation of the control which you so craftily delivered into their hands. And I could build out the rest of the story. -Blackmail -Venus in Furs level fuckery chaos, but actually more. No reluctant Mistress in this story – the Mistress here is the they/them at the end who laughs while the lover whips the absolute fuck out of the sub. -Sex Slavery -Extreme Action -Unrelenting Mindfucking -Drug use and forced drug use -Hellzone Videos (from Gautama Rouge) [I was going to delete this…but Gautama Rouge is an old novel I wrote and I have a tendency to steal aspects of it because the world I created there lends itself to extremities] -And I could even tie it to Gautama Rouge like a prequel – showing how Aria [a main character from the book] and the others found out about the Gautama Rouge. NOTE – I do have every bit of writing here, so long as I’m working from home. Maybe I should write another book. 11:12PM – Day 7 Con’t Still kink thinking – mainly of the puzzle of the chastity device, and the story. I could go over the top, but there’s a part of me that goes for realism. I know I went a little over the top with it last night, but that was not my original intent. The start of that is something I’ve been planning in my head. I really could get a genital piercing in the way I described in the first paragraph. That’s completely real. I didn’t truly drop into the fantasy until near the bottom of the page. I don’t think there’s a way I could afford all that shit. What I might be able to afford is a custom chastity device that’s more around the (gulp) $1,000 mark [more than some, less than some…but I’m not wealthy]. I figure, that’s what it’s going to run for something like that. So, right now that’s my budget. It will begin to be gathered into my kink-fund-allowance that I asked Tasher for. My plan is not to blow that money on a bunch of lesser kink stuff. No, I’ll bank it and save that shit up, so I can buy myself a custom chastity device, hopefully a Lori’s Chastity Device. That’s what they do – Lori Lancer and her husband and whomever else – they make chastity devices and her husband is locked in a permanent chastity device – or at least he was? So, they’ve got the real-life experience to help me make the right choices. Therefore, up until that actual point, it’s a real plan. It is a goal of mine, actually. And a long-term goal at that. This may take every bit of a year and likely a year and a half before I achieve that goal. The goal that will follow is TBD, but there are so many directions it can go and I have no idea where I will be or what I will think about and want as my next goal. Right now, my goal really would be to continue writing and talking in my notebooks about my truest uncensored thoughts – with the disclaimer: These writings only represent a fraction of what I think about. This fraction is comprised only of the thoughts I have specifically while I’m writing the words, which I am then only able to record within my capabilities to handwrite and the boundary of the level of my writing skill to effectively communicate those thoughts – which I know it can’t because my slippery brain works in multiple levels which are rendered 3D as fractals within a completely immersive virtual reality holographic world I have created and in which, all my created impulses are wild unleashed gods, goddesses, monsters, and demons. I can say it. I can write those words while I whisper them. I can project through this ink as well and as fast as I legibly can scrape the ink onto the page. But I know, those efforts will fall short of me communicating all that. At best, I can pull pieces out of it and put them on the page, within all constraints. Anyhow – what I put here is a fraction of that, and I’m only doing it at night while sitting out in the garage, where I’ve caught a buzz and am allowing my mind to go in different directions from where it’s forced to spend its time during the rest of the day. In other words, this is where I like to come to drop down the rabbit hole as a relief from the churn and insanity of my outer life, where everything is bleeding edge work in high stakes environments. To be continued, in Day 8 Day 8 – Midnight – Friday – Garage – 2/18/22 I wrote the last sentence in Day 7, set down the notebook and pen, then paced around smoking the Yellow American Spirit – Mellow Flavor – cigarettes and thinking about work. Now I’m back though. Yes, the rabbit hole. This is where I’m trying to escape the neverending thoughts of work and the outer world. The animator who did the children’s show, Rugrats, was able to step away for MTV’s Liquid Television, and he created Aeon Flux. This notebook and many of the things I write, are my own personal Aeon Flux in a world dominated by the cage of performative Rugrats animation. It is an even better metaphor if you’ve seen all of both, which I have, because kids. My oldest daughter watch and rewatched those shows and movies a hundred times. I also watched all of Aeon Flux back in the 90’s and a few times since then with the boxed set. So, imagine my surprise when I learned it was the same animator, and then the circumstances of each job which they were responsible for. It’s probably better before I tried to explain it, right? You didn’t need me to explain it beyond the first part. Maybe? I don’t know and you can’t tell me because you’re not here with me right now. You see, there’s a lot of assumptions I have to make about how much or how little to talk about anything. I’m guessing, and trying to communicate with you, whomever you are. Again, I think, if you’ve made it this far then I should trust I’m tolerably succeeding. The cool thing about this dynamic, is I don’t have to feel I’m hiding anything. We have a relationship now. I should be able to say anything I want at this point. If you’ve made it this far, then I should trust you with anything. Hold nothing back. I gathered the physical writing I’ve done. It spans an entire block in the bookshelves. Between what’s historically documented in there, and the shit from my computer, everything shows itself to be on the logical continuum of my life. Where I’m at is as a result of cumulative effects. Slow continuous development and maturity, earned through many years of life. Many scars along the way. I didn’t just drop into this form after the surgery. I have been this way throughout the continuum. I need to unapologetically do what I want to do and be who I’ll be, if I choose to do so. And if I choose not to, then it’s also my choice. I’ll have to work on it, because there’s a world and a continuum of control over how I think – and I’m fighting a war with it. 9:04AM – Day 8 con’t As if seeking to make a point to myself, last night I wore the Holy Trainer for a little while and on a whim, just to see, I managed to pull my dick out of it with very little effort. It was the first time I’ve tried it. I’d been avoiding that test for a while. It was disappointing and predictable. Therefore – the HT joins the ranks of all the other devices which are honor system compatible only. Voluntary-chastity-costume-jewelry. Not completely, but enough to make me think, goddamnit. I know this dynamic is always in play with any chastity device, there’s not a piece of gear out there that can prevent orgasms anyhow. Any device – even with piercings – does not prevent an O if you’re horny enough or if you’ve got a vibrator or any number of other things. This is why you need a keyholder who you hold yourself accountable toward. All a chastity device can functionally do is make it less easy, so it’s not a casual action. I go back to the simulcra ideas I’ve spoken about before and the costume-jewelry contention whereby an object is benign and lifeless if not used within a larger hyper-reality. The context of the fantasy I was describing yesterday is its aspirations toward lending itself to an intense hyper-real. I fell short, not taking into account the engineering and construction of the hyper-real to go along with it. The level-up of the device would only be an enhanced simulcra…a fragment of the tableau. The key to the scene is the 10,000 FT elevation viewpoint, not granularity independent of the overall. The devil is in the details? But what good are details if they’re not details of a plan. And the plan is the hyper-real. I must not lose sight of that, unless this is all nothing more than fleeting fantasy…and I think I need to get away from small thinking – I’ve done far too much of that already. The reason for my saying all this is because 50 Daze was the farthest of gone toward the hyper-real I’m envisioning and I really was enjoying it. If the shift in the equation was the displacement of Tasher from the role of the dominant, then I believe the whole thing would be viable and attainable. I guess that’s where I’m going with all of this. I’m taking Tasher out of the kink equation and recasting the role. I still love her and I am still attracted to her and everything else, but the hyper-real I want is not what she wants. We don’t want the same things. Therefore, I need to find a different participant for it. The chastity device is not the key action, the currently unknown other participant is. When I shift my focus away, it is because have stalled out on planning for that. Then it turns into fantasy – as could be seen in all manner of my writing – including the fantasy from the other night. When I transitioned from the simulcra to the hyper-real, it was also a transition from relatively-doable-parts to the fantasy parts. How do I get those fantasy parts in the real? There’s where my focus and efforts belong, if this will ever survive my practicability analysis. One aspect to consider – the extreme elements may be too fantastic to survive in the real, but there are some of the variant less-extreme situations which would satiate me. In fact – the chastity game itself with a keyholder and a minimum of constraints about the dynamic would likely be awesome – but I’d be a liar if I said within it a churn for leveling-up would not be prevalent. We’ve seen it firsthand. This begs the question of whether there is a sweet-spot balance somewhere in all this? An acceptable range of moderation? I know of no way to discern it without experimentation. It seems reasonable. Some is too-much and some is too-little. Sounds like a trial-and-error scientific-method laboratory experiment… i.e. FUN! GRIN, why not? 4:24PM – here’s an interesting tidbit I read on Chastity Manor. If you have a chastity device with a PA hook that is larger at the end and slimmer at the base…say, 8mm at the end and 6mm at the base, and you wear it for a while (months), the piercing will shrink to 6mm and make it impossible to remove the hook without incurring damage because the piercing won’t be large enough anymore. Hmmm…with that type of dynamic – where else could that type of methodology be employed? Also, with a PA piercing, you want a smooth tip – not a ring or a ball because those fuck with your urine flow – taking it from being a stream to being a spray. So…with anything long-term, don’t overlook long-term hygiene. Also – the heal-time and infection risk? That’s part of the commitment. Also, think in terms of a getting a circumcision on the partial foreskin you still have. Or, remember there’s potentially other options with it. Also, what if an objective was to shrink the penis? How’s that for permanent? What are the options you don’t usually think about, but which may be on the table if it’s permanent damage play? (that’s not play!) HA HA HA Oh, the options you’ll find! 10:50PM – Day 8 con’t Stepping back, I did join the Chastity Mansion tonight. It’s a platform I’ve known about for a long time, but I only ever looked, and never joined. Now I’ve joined and am engaging. Its good reading the accounts of other people. There are so many aspects of similarity across the board. It’s also a repository of information for me and I want to learn more. This community has some long-term active lifestyle members and I want to learn from them – and I want to ask some questions as well. We’ll see how all that goes. In other news, Tasher has gone to bed. So, I am about to get my smoke on and forget the world of the out-out. 11:09PM Day 8 con’t Okay – let’s play with Madness Dwells Here. Once again – I’ve acquired a piercing and a chastity device capable of forevermore, with built-in non-dealbreaker arousal deterrents. Once again, it’s custom and I haven’t seen…no…that’s unrealistic. No. I’ve bought it and it has arrived and I’ve got one of those kitchen timer key safes, or whatever available upgrade there is. I personally decorate the safe with a BDSM art collage. I ramp it up to whatever days it has…hmmm…no, not that. What do I give myself as a goal? Tasher says the standard is 4 months. But that’s with a keyholder. What do I do on my own? Okay…on my own…define the dynamic. Why does it have to be on my own? When I engaged at the Chastity Mansion website, I opened a doorway? Day 9 – Garage – 2/19/22 – Saturday - 1:28AM – Day 9 I may yet come to enjoy the fuck out of the Chastity Mansion and I wonder who I’ll meet there. The lifestyle depictions capture my imagination. The fantasies made flesh through what other members share. So many people living their amazing and beautiful truths. Do I tell them I’m trying to make my life a book with the contents and storylines I’m looking for? Fantasizing about? Which I’m thirsty for? Do you know what I could tell them? I could tell them my stories and I could tell them my fantasies. I went back and reread what I’ve written since the first title, Madness Dwells Here. It needed an edit, which I must do (as usual) when I go from the handwritten original to the first typed version. Judge me, friend, I’m supposed to be an experienced writer. Mistakes only appear as mistakes because if I do my job, every piece should have intention and purpose. And I hope I succeed. I hope the right person sees this and thinks, this sounds fun enough to warrant engagement and exploration with me. i.e. I’m searching for a fabled unicorn here, a singular magical flipside companion who goes to their own magnificent wonderland, where they’re casting auditions for people who could fulfill a role where they can practice their own hyper-real on me, because I’m also a person who might earn the privilege of serving their pleasures, which loosely compliment some of my own masochistic addictions. Not controlling anything because I know my place. I don’t want to control any of it, which is why I’m looking for someone with a complimentary itch, who begins and remains in control because that’s their authentic nature. Not knowing what could happen and then having little choice (or better, no choice) but to experience a truly deep drop into a whole other hyper-real and staying there to learn the nature of savagery living within the singularity of the other individual. Final disclaimer – I am and have been in my own private subspace during this writing, and as my Goddess reminded me during the destructive churn of 50 Daze, “Whenever you think something is true and have yet another epiphany, remember this, you are always your own most unreliable narrator.” What if she’s wrong? (blasphemy! …I know…) What if everything I’ve written here is completely reliable. What then? END OF MADNESS DWELLS HERE 2:59AM – Day 9 con’t It’s not the end because on a lark I put on the Holy Trainer earlier and when I was trying to go to sleep, I felt myself drop a little deeper. I would love a reality check involving strict bondage. Gagged with a bar of soap secured with around-the-head tape, shit, make it duct tape, why not? Then I would like to be broken down with some type of corporal. Black and blue and bleeding, if need be. Whatever it takes and whatever follows is dealer’s choice. I feel irresponsible writing, like this, can get boorish though. There are definitely some scripting tendencies. Terrible habit. And since I’m dropped, I’ll also say there might be ways to correct this systemic flaw. Because, why not go ahead and put that out into the universe, even if it did sound typical and predictable to lifestyle people who have known these things as realities. Then…maybe I’d be less reckless and uninformed if I could have the chance to learn the real because 99% of my play has been solo. We all have our kinks, but a large feature of mine is masochism and what I have tasted has always kept me coming back for over 30 years with the same types of unquenchable thirsts. I’d embrace water-boarding if that’s the only way I could drink. And now, I’m done. Thank you all for your time.