Sunday, January 26, 2014

Public Service Announcement

And now for a word on addictive habits: I do not have many vices. I don't smoke, I don't drink, I don't do drugs and have no interest in doing so. I don't gamble. I don't participate in the destruction of public or private property, and I don't revel in antiestablishmentarianism. Even I have to ask, just what the hell do I do? Am I some kind of straight-laced, white bread, goody-two-shoes? A stick in the mud? Of course not. Despite the fact that my laces, when I have them, are indeed straight (a trait governed by my OCD thank you very much), and I do, in fact, prefer white bread over wheat. And yes, I do have two good shoes (why would I put up with anything less?). And I have, on occasion, been stuck in the mud. 

So where, exactly, do I allow my self to cut loose and exercise the darker aspects of my soul? I'm sure the answer is no surprise to you, dear reader. Sex. That glorious and varied playground of physical and psychological wonderment. The vice that exercises nearly every aspect of the entirety of a person, and provides a development unlike any vice mentioned above. And I am an addict, utterly obsessed.

Lust, that most potent of vices. Driving desire, heightening the senses, altering the perception of time and space. My drug of choice. The high that keeps on giving. I have spent hours chasing that dragon; lost in a multitude of my own scenes, downloading porn videos, reading erotica, sifting through picture after picture on Fet, blogs, tumbler, and favorite sites across the web. I live it every day, when the kids allow. I see it everywhere I go.

Honestly, spending time in public is painful. When I see a pretty little thing walk by and my mind wonders at her talents. I envision rope wrapped around her frame and chains hanging from cuffs around her wrists. Imagining her following at the tug of a leash behind me. I have to look away, only to see another and another and yet more. A sweet misery, and as is appropriate, I have to share with the slave. It's fun to see her reactions and know that she is just as afflicted as I. Together we have moaned our way through many a store, or park... or restaurant... or bank lobby... or... Come to think about it, just about everywhere. Oddly, not at the Department of Motor Vehicles though. But, I digress. 

One of the most difficult aspects of this addiction for me is work. I have a rule, I do not play at work. It causes too many potential issues, too much gossip, and a mess that is not worth it, no matter how delicious or obviously interested or likely a perspective play partner may be. Which is hard, of course, for two reasons. With our kiddos I don't get out much for socializing or play and as such work is really the only place I spend enough time with other people to get a feel for who they are. The other reason is that a friend of mine from the local scene also works in the same building and, knowing my interests, will introduce me to others in her department who share our predilections. Being polite to a fault (I don't even partake in rude behavior as a vice), I smile and talk a bit about their interests, all the while the rule screams in my mind like a siren. Who knows what fun I am denying myself, loosing out on that one vice that I crave, because of that rule? And yet, I still feel it is best to keep it intact... No matter how much it pains me.

Even now while writing this, I am perving pictures on my phone, like an IV drip sustaining me throughout the day. A necessity as without it I am likely to drag my slave up stairs by a handful of hair, bind her in metal cuffs, and relieve my desires with her again and again. A scenario that is well within my purview as her owner but not with regards to our children. And so I am relegated to sating my cravings in what small ways I can, usually multiple times a day... locked behind closed doors... alone. And it is never enough. As my girl tells me, even if we had a whole week without the kids, dedicated to these desires, it would not sate me. Maybe she's right, but how can I be sure until we try?

I have considered pursing a career in porn, but then I just laugh and laugh to my self. It is hard enough at the moment to get a couple of quick snapshots with my phone in the scattered and brief moments I do get to use my slave, never mind the planned and involved scenes I aspire to. Then there's having children. Take your kids to work day would be a nightmare and require years of counseling. Taking my work home with me would result in much the same. As it is, I cannot have friends over for a simple meet-and-bind because of them. Hell, our friends won't even come over for simple gatherings. The isolation of parenthood I suppose. 

All that, and I hardly have the abs of a porn star. Cock, yes. Abs, no. Also, you know what they say, when you take a passion and turn it into a career, it becomes a job and why would I ever want to tarnish such a perfect obsession? So yes, I have considered it. I put that in the same category at the moment as astronaut and pirate as likely career goals at this stage in my life. I do hold some small hope of becoming more of a figure in the kink world, a presenter or what have you. But porn star, not so much. 

So, for now I suppose that I will have to keep taking what opportunities I can and suffer through the withdraws. As our little one ages, I am sure that things will normalize. I was even all set to go down to Denver for last night's Sanctuary club get together, and had the slave not just had her molar removed (see my previous post) I probably would have. That is something I could not have considered just a few months ago and next month I am definitely going. So, there is hope on the horizon, even if only the faintest hint. 

This has been a Public Service Announcment...

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