(Tales Of The Une̶x̶p̶e̶c̶t̶e̶dnecessary)
Me: “Most of the time, when I throw out those ‘shocking’ ideas, it’s to see how much they resonate with other people … to determine how far off the beaten track they are and I, therefore, am.”
Them: “Where you are, you can’t even see the beaten track.”
Granted, I not altogether infrequently put them out there to make a serious point too …but, that said, I also do it just to make people squirm.
Which is why it occurs to me that … in the post transgender world, where biological sex isn’t inevitably tied to traditional gender signifiers and someone’s appearance, name, etc. no longer indicate the former of necessity … it’s potentially perfectly valid to fantasise about getting someone by the name of Stephen pregnant on a chair in a seedy motel room.
Given my cisgender, heteronormative male sexuality, I won’t be doing so myself … but you should feel free to, if yours allows you to.
If you do, please describe your fantasies in a reply (or multiple replies, if you have more than one such) to this story … tagging him when you do so.
I suppose you could simply post them as inappropriate replies to random Junction/Tomic stories … à la funny/fake product reviews on Amazon … and there’s a certain appeal to that approach ¹, but he might delete them and then where would we be?
I’m not sure what the correct term is for a kink revolving around an obsession with the seedy and sordid side of Life ² … but if anyone is the perfect vehicle for such, it’s him (or her, as the case may be) ³; you might not fantasise about walking into your local dive and finding him dancing, on a table, in lingerie stuffed with dirty five Euro notes, before taking him to a seedy motel and ruining him (or her) … but whatever you come up with, as long as it’s sordid, sleazy and degrading, you should write it here so that, even if it’s rejected for The Junction, it gets ‘published’ somewhere — I’ll look forward to John Tinney’s tale of (someone) doing Stephen dirty with especial relish, but I reckon Roy and Gutbloom should be able to pen something suitably disturbing as well … and Filmofile is probably particularly well-positioned to do so.
No, I haven’t got anything sensible to say right now but … apart from recently questioning whether he were still alive (or whether his parents had finally re-homed him in a river-view burlap sack with some bricks for company) … I have written neither anything particularly off-colour nor gratuitous of late, so I figured I should strike whilst the iron was hot and take advantage of the opportunity to combine the two with my own fantasies about someone else altogether ⁶ as the idea occurred to me — if nothing else, E. Scott Alighieri will love it.
Right … that’s your lot for the foreseeable — I’ve got an appointment with Randy Newman.
¹ It’d certainly keep him on his toes, if he had to keep a watch out for them on everything he publishes.
² Aura might know, but it’s kinda meta and there may not be a specific term for it — peeping toms are into voyeurism, but what’s the word for what the people who like to watch peeping toms are into, for example?
³ Quite apart from being adopted and nobody loving him as a result, he’s an American living in Paris ⁴, with connections to former Iron Curtain nations, allegedly making a living by teaching English (or American, anyway) as a foreign language, so it’s not difficult to imagine that as a front for his (or her?) activities as an international pimp and people trafficker, selling naive young things into (sex) slavery (he’s not known as Le Patron for nothing), is it?. So, you might as well fantasise about anything else that takes your fancy along the way at the same time.
⁴ Or wherever — the precise details aren’t any more significant than he is himself and, if you want him to live in Paris then I say you should ignore his protestations to the contrary and insist that he does ⁵.
⁵ I do.
⁶ Precisely who that might be is nothing with which you need concern yourself though — suffice it to say that it feels dangerous, liberating, exhilarating, orgasmic … in a dirty sort of way … and, afterwards, I can’t look myself in the mirror for at least a day
… and you can’t really ask more of a fantasy than that, now can you?