power tripping

the way he told me was typical of how he would tell me any trivial bit of information about his personal life. his tone was casual and unassuming. almost dismissive. he said it like he was saying, i saw a repeat of Seinfeld last night, or, i had corn chowder for lunch today. but it wasnt anything like that, and frankly i dont know if i would have rather had him tell me something so incidental and minor. as it is, he breezily mentioned to me, as we hiked to Burritoville for a pile of crap wrapped loosely in a tortilla: you know i got a sex slave right?

right there i could see how microscopic he was trying to make this out to be, as if he was just making sure i was up to speed on his more sexually deviant activities before the conversation veered to more pressing matters, like what to order for lunch. but its clear that you cant just casually mention your sex slave then follow it up with, so you wanna split some nachos? and he knew this, so of course i had to bite.

no, i said, i dont remember you mentioning a sex slave. is this is a new developement? i scanned the menu, are you gonna get guacamole? i was still trying to sound every bit as bored with the subject as he was, which of course frustrated him to shit. half the fun of bringing it up with such a drab and spiritless tone was bomb like drop my jaw was sure to have upon receiving such information. still, he maintained an impassive demeanor, with the kind of professionalism only a seasoned new york queen could afford.

yeah, he said, to both things. i have a sex slave and i want gaucamole. we can split it. the gaucamole, not the sex slave.

i figured as much, i said, matching his unflappable attitude with everything i had. it was tough though, my mind was dizzy with questions. what does one even do with a sex slave? do you keep them locked in the closet, lubed up and ready to go whenever the moment catches your fancy? do they rely on you for just sex, or does the "slave" aspect of the relationship extend to daily duties, like washing the dishes and unclogging the toilet, or do you use your slave for more difficult and tedious task like detailing your car or building Ikea furniture? what about personality in your slave? do you look for one with a good sense of humor? if so, is it normal practice to sit back and enjoy a laugh with your slave, or is that overstepping the bounderies of the slave/master relationship? if i had a slave, i know id like to partake in a pleasant chuckle with them from time to time. maybe thats just me, im a pretty casual cat.

but no, its nothing that tame. the slave is reffered to only as "boy," where as my friend is addressed as "sir," and there are no titles other than those two; it wasnt clear weather or not they even knew each others actual names. his slave rents five star hotel rooms to meet him in. everything on the slaves dime, of course.

so was thinking that my friend just sporadically meets him and fucks him every which way but loose [and, i suppose, that way too] then they go back to their respective homes and watch seinfeld repeats and eat corn chowder. but no. no no no. its much more involved than that. if you are going to have a slave, i guess you gotta put serious effort into exercising the capacity of this dynamic. and from what he told me, they do.

sometimes, my friend explained, he has a bunch of his friends come over and gang bang the slave, stomping him and berating him while he watches and drinks wine. my friend, it turns out, hardly ever has sex with the slave, and just observes as he gets humilated. my friend, obviously, is the uber top and his slave, no duh, is the mega bottom. so while the slave gets sexually shamed and conquered by 2 or three of my friends friends, my friend sits in the corner calling the slave a worthless piece of shit or ignoring him or something. of course, the slave loves it, he said, but it gets kinda boring after a while. yeah, i bet.

anyway, so after he told me all this the only response i could think appropaite was, -wow dude, thats some pretty depraved shit. awesome. and he then gets humble and in all seriousness says, -thanks dude. im going to have him call you next time we get together. i'll have him worship you over the phone. to this i replied, uh... yeah, um... ok.

hey, i dont get that much praise, if i have to go to my friends gay sex slave for some, so be it.

as for me, i'm not into humilating my sexual partner and im not too keen on being humilated myself either. in that sense, i guess im pretty vanilla. sure, tweak my nipples and shove my tongue in your anus, but dont call me an asshole, that just hurts my feelings.

and i was also thinking, if i had a sex slave i would totally let myself go. id get a nice hefty belly, the kind only "sirs" are entitled to. i'd be eating deep fried double bacon sandwiches smothered in maple syrup with chocolate cake batter and peanut butter pancakes. at midnight. then id wash it all down with a tall pint of caramel too, and have some cheese fries and ranch dressing for desert. oh god just typing that made my stomach hurt. ugh.

im wondering though, if the race element [my friend is black, his slave is white] is played up when they are together. the whole thing is already twisted in a naturally perverted way, but is there poetic justice involved? is it even considered? maybe ill ask the slave when he calls to worship me. wow, i cant believe i just came up with something to talk to my friends slave about.

on a side note: j-swift is the producer to one of my favorite albums ever, 1992's Bizarre Ride to the Pharcyde. when i heard that joint i was blown back, i couldnt believe the creativity and depth of the music. it was far more complex and original sounding than most albums before and even after. ive been wondering what j-swifts been up to since, i mean, you cant produce a classic record then fall of the face of the earth? can you? well, apparently, you can. and its not pretty. clock the tv politics. i am definitely checking out this flick.