One of the gifts that time and life experience have given me is that placid and beautiful vista of having no fucks to give.
Now – (minor digression) don’t be tempted to conflate not a fuck given and apathy or ignorance. No fucks to give is always conscious, never accidental. But if it’s overly conscious, it becomes the massive and vulnerable “obviously you give all the fucks in the world” stance of the insecure.
It’s difficult to discuss this, because I find that those who flog their lack of given fucks the loudest and the most frequently obviously DO give a fuck. It’s a lot like saying one is intelligent – you can say it once, but really it’s a good idea to leave it alone after that point. Show don’t tell is more than a literary device, kids.
However, I bring this up because there was a time in my life I was very wedded to the idea of AUTHENTIC AUTHENTICITY. I gave plentiful fucks. I cringed at anything that smelled of God Forbid “Role playing” or “Games.” Now?
Now I fucking love them. As long as it’s my idea, my fantasy, my little toy theater version of the world to play in? Game on! We’re all filled with archetypes, knee jerk responses, sexual kinks, passions and repulsion. Simply because men exist in a masturbatory playpen of fantasy and projection doesn’t mean that I can’t grab their little scruffs and grind them together like GI Joe fucking Voltron while they’re in there.
So, I sat down, as I usually do, when I’m feeling dirty mean and creative, with excellent coffee from Dogwood, and a black and white composition notebook and a Bic. (That scene will never go high end for some reason – Moleskine is for drawing, silly rabbits.) And I wrote and lo and behold that dead horse staple of the office fantasy in which I’m your boss and you’re my fuck up – that’s what we’ve got for you.
It’s a lot like drawing. You start out with nothing and some annoying thing shows up and then you refine it and it becomes wonderful.
As always, MY version is cruel, hot, strict, and perfect.
TL:DR version –
You love to feel fucked. You love to get caught. You love the breathless surge of blackmail that you KNOW you deservedly invited into your life. Then you’ll love this – Step into MY office a moment.