Jack Spratt

120714 01:44 fetish fixation

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

To/4 Betsy Gardner a school mate who is my muse and erstwhile editor Were it not for her I'd not be in free fall growing feathers attempting to fly before auger/auguring aflame dying buried in the bottom of the abyss.

There is much about my sensuality learned from authors of smut, pornography or rhapsodic poetry regarding love. It was Anais who first implied it was okay to be a fetishist as well as many more things than I'd allowed myself to ponder. A soul, being a terrible waste lost in the constants of mouse shit headed conservatives; minutia = mouse shit to me.

About “dirty” movies and photographs: The penchant for most people, especially women in revelatory poses to gloat and smirk or giggle “Look at me mom I'm fucking” is distracting and erection killing. That said, literature or Literotica or erotica invites for the most part imagination sans distracting laughter at me the wanker. Lamentably most amateur writers, like myself, only marginally different, I learned between the sheets to use 'DO' words that move versus 'TELL' words that report what I did at summer camp versus literature.

In time my fetish for panties moved upward to the mind then soul of the gender I adore. Before this could happen I read Nancy Friday and Barbara Walker – does this make me a pussy boy – not really.

It was Gloria Steinem, a fox then and still, well founded journalist; both.

My lover Carol McCabe my original muse working together we 'double teamed' her Carol used shorthand and while catching up on her notes I'd take over carrying the tread and/or begin a new one -- I'd been to the shorthand inventor's mansion sans the inventor. Bob Cavalli, a flutist, owned it, who like dad played in the W.P.A. Cincinnati Orchestra bassoon 2^nd chair premier “The Fire Bird”. Bob bought the mansion and dad being a car freak, bought one of the only twenty Phantom Drop Head Coupes made with Brewster Body. I've seen models of it on nicknack antique stores. I don't cry remembering dad's Ferrari my college education – are you listening tiny dick head one testes brother? After the fact, the betrayal, I played his tape over and over only now realizing we were friends more like brothers than you are fuck head.

I had collected a number of wonderful subjects and stories 'on the street' as a photojournalist and quickly discovered Carol's abilities, lingerie, trust and faith in me personally. True intimacy is not sexual exclusively but on a higher plane friendship . . . To watch these two extraordinary sexy and powerful women at play, fencing as it were, remains another of now many women mentors most of whom I did not have sex or make a baby with but they gave me the 'virgin birth' I now recognize as the who I am.

To give birth to your soul it helps a great deal to trust the All of You inside and do I mean everything. We being, as they say in AA, no better than the secrets we keep a crime against your self and all those, who were you transparently honest, could help you as “sponsors” or mentors. The birth I imply is long painful but with each contraction the suffering slowly become joy, bliss, then ecstasy. Becoming fearless of even God and all the Dragons' you will learn to ride gleefully.

Since this whateveryoucallit started with a personal journal I tend to forget that as in life so in writing every new reader is a whole new universe of potential but at that I tend to forget to mention the horror show of my life.

About the panties, a common if not the most common of male fetishes, they represent the closest we as boys and men are able to touch the wonder and grandeur of the women we love. Having fessed up that I wore them is a minor thing for which many transvestite or transgender are beaten to death essentially by very fearful and weak people unable to identify, then inhabit and incarnate their sexual identity or choice. When women ruled transvestites would skin them alive wearing their skin in faux emulation of what they perceived as the ultimate power.

About power. Give a little and lose very much since the psychotics who run everything have no empathy. Instead of serial wankers or rapist they become greedy for more power never having enough. 

Addiction question #1; what do you want? “MORE”

Moving past masturbation, wearing panties the real issue is with aid of the above I began falling through illusory 'foundations or floors' falling to a deeper understanding of what women are really about.

I love a woman nine years my senior and doubt fully that we will ever become lovers in the sense most people argue about. Re: male/male or female/female relationships. Love is not merely about sex but hugely more eventually friendship. In theory 'soul mates' is juvenile bull shit since a fully formed soul in relationship another, what ever combination, doesn't matter trust and respect does meaning that the other is free to come and go or not go. Independence and freedom from fear versus slavery and a breeding stall. Sex with another independent soul is like God it goes on forever; the Old In & Out just doesn't cut it.

We males begin equal with females yet become retarded at the first blush of hormones and orgasms; dead in the head longing to stick our scepters in walls, doors and anything in a skirt or opening of any kind. “Men wonder when and women why?” Sex then becomes political, a power issue and stalemate. Kurt Vonnegut once remarked the experience of waking to the realization that his school mates were running the country.” Or as in the current case, the world. Instead of being bemused I am amused at the theft of everything knowing them better than they know themselves. Since instead of Harvard or Brown I went to a different school where I stay now The School of Hard Knocks.

The difference between 'us' being that while they are intelligent they lack any moral or ethical sense other than knowing how to abort or merely fuck it up to their profit.

In the Ten Commandments it is recommended that we honor our parents and like Jesus' “Love thy Enemy” to me it means respect not trust.

I know my enemy since I am one to myself. Yet, sometimes, maybe maybe not, I learn to balance between, I mean after all I still seek panties by view or otherwise, to choose mindfully what works in terms of real Flesh and Blood . . . the landscape and pallet of God's dream of us.

PS . . . about 'poetry' at least my perversions both well actually too many to list not enough space on The World Wide Web don't you know.!?

In poetry one has license to spindle and mutilate words mashing them together without reason other than moving the narrative where you want it to. It should be obvious by now I don't know how to punctuate so I leer from behind the Goddess's skirts poetry the greatest after prayer form of literature known though out history but at that nothing compared to dance or music. I've reported this incident before but it's too good not too. Dad was speaking to someone at the front of the store --- did I tell you that whenever a nubile what ever age came in, He's say; Oh Johnny I need help – so the topic was lunch and he always thought me insane probably too right there bro I fell off my chair laughing when he said, “I'm good I'll eat up the street.” My vision version perversions seeing him like Stephen Norman Spratt's mother naked eating grass with he equally naked driving her forwards with spurs.

Oh God! I have never had this much fun ever! Forget women just give me a keyboard.

. . . what can I expect ED AIDS or Alzheimer’s here I come already demented at birth.

© 2012 by Jack Spratt All Rights Reserved