Passion doesn't think. You can think about passion, but there is no thought during it. Which is why you disappear, only to reappear as you. Which is why, before engaging in blood sports or breath play, or any of the innumerable BDSM practices that are potentially life-threatening, you have to know yourself; know what you're capable of, and in considerable depth.
Which is why the net, in the form of a particular chat client known as VP (Virtual Places) was invaluable to me. It became a theatre of dreams in which it was possible to be anyone and anything, and to do unto others exactly as they, and you, wished to do. This is in the days before the net was just another Mall, of course. As it's developed it's become more and more a part of everyday life. It remains useful to me as a reference and research tool - but it's no longer in any sense what it once was, and is much the worse for it.
If I want to see ads for viagra all I have to do is turn the TV on.
But in the days before scanners were universal, before webcams had even been heard of, when VOIP wasn't even a gleam in a geek's eye, when all you had was your imagination and a keyboard, people were able to live intensely secret alternate lives that allowed them to express the deepest and most hidden parts of themselves in ways which were without real-time consequences. No threat of disease, of scandal, of real-time violence.
That in itself was a tremendous asset to someone bent on exploring forms of sexuality that terrified him because the desire to experience them was so utterly over-powering. I spent years online exploring what I am because I knew that if I once let it loose in my actual life it would consume me and everything around me. But online it was contained, separate: safe. And because it was safe to do whatever I wanted in a purely virtual world without the constraints of the actual world to limit action, I tortured, raped and murdered my way around the various BDSM chatrooms of VP - and became, for the first time in my life, popular. I was notorious for the detailed grotesqueries of the online scenes I constructed - and I had no lack of willing partners.
It's irrelevant, the question of whether my partners were of the sex they presented themselves as, whether anything they told me was in any way 'true'. It was all true, no matter how 'false', because each experience was a shared imaginative reality. What we did (and I won't regale you with the details), I and those people, we actually did, in the worlds that we constructed.
Such things are impossible now, because 'truth' and 'reality' infest the net like a disease. If I weren't as lazy as I am, I'd invest in a decent Encyclopedia and never look at Google again - just to spite the clever bastards who invented it and make a profit off my interest every time I use the damnable thing.
Onward, through the fog...
What I realised, in consequence of my many virtual lives (I spent two or three years as an online 'lesbian', because I wanted to see if I could successfully infilitrate that online community and be accepted by it) is that I am either possessed of, or possessed by, desires of an absolute fury that in themselves are without limit. What rouses my hunger, I hunger for absolutely. And since these desires know no limit in themselves, and since there is no one but myself to impose a limit upon them, I developed (at first without any understanding of it) an ability that is absolutely crucial to anyone who wants the things I want. The ability to seperate out some tiny, some miniscule, fraction of my consciousness and set it as a kind of watchdog over myself.
When it barks I listen - because it only ever barks when I'm in such a frenzy that if I were to take what I am doing at that moment any further - then everything else I value (such as liberty) falls under serious threat of loss. You can't restrict the flow of blood to someone's brain and be incapable of self-control. If you are, your partner will die. For those instants, your partner's life is, literally, in your hands.
I was born in the wrong era. I should have been an early Medieval Prince, with power of life and death over my serfs and none but God to answer to. Had that been so, rather than my being born into this misbegotten age of knowledge without wisdom, competence without power, religion without spirit; into a world entirely demystified in which 'magic' is nothing more than crass and contemptible conjuring, then my name would be legendary now.
Trust me. You'd still be frightening your children with it.
