Happy Thanksgiving. It has been a good year.

Like grains of sand, they slip through my fingers. Miniscule, sharply edged pieces of glass worn from the passing of time and pressure.
How like sand they are, great in number, yet each one insignificant on its own. They are lost in the sea of their own importance, consumed by group thought, swallowed into some consciousness that doesn’t listen until they can’t talk anymore, or don’t have the energy. They curse the wind that stirs them, hate the feet that walk among them. They despise change, hate progress, lack motivation.

The sea shell. Alone, half buried in the sand, nearly swallowed by their unrelenting waves. It has forgotten its beauty as time has passed by, viewing itself in the mirror that the sand provides. Revealed by the wind, cast into the sun, located and found - plucked from the sea of sand. Released from thousands - millions of bitter voices.

A new short story I am going to work on.

‘Priest.’

Woman with rosary beads.
Absolution - remission of sin.
A prayer.

An alter of blood
White, red, black.

Stark. Raw. Real.

A soft plea for salvation.

“Hail Mary, full of grace, our Lord is with thee.
Blessed art thou amoung women,
and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus.
Holy Mary, Mother of God,
Pray for us sinners, now and at the hour of our death.”

And its answer…

While rape is viewed by myself and many others in the BDSM community as the vile act that it is, there is an alternate form called forced consent. It is the art of forcing the intended victim to consent and eventually want the act to happen. Forced enjoyment of a rape - without the emotional burden of the real act. Obviously this is a fine line to walk and I do no encourage anyone to partake in something of which they have little knowledge, or without the full understanding and consent of your partner. Now, all of that aside…

That is the kind of violence I crave at the moment. I want to smell that particular fear. The act itself…vicious and brutal. I want push apart her trembling thighs and have her in the one way that a man unquestionably dominates a woman. I want it to be bloody - I crave the fight.

This mood doesn’t creep up on me often and I often prefer abject submission to any fight. However, in the case of forced consent, having someone beg you to rape them, doesn’t exactly spawn the violent need for savagery. (…not everytime, at least)

Setting?
It can be anywhere. I like realistic settings. How often do I go to the jungle or am captain of a pirate ship? Halloween aside, give me an urban setting and I am content. I am open to ideas.

The want and desire is there. I just need to find an outlet.