Tuesday, May 26, 2026

Transformative Justice with 2 Hot Supportive security guards at the Grocery Store

 Money was a constant issue. I’d also begun to uncover that some of those that I had welcomed into my inner circle were showing their teeth and slithering around my feet, tripping me up.

Despite this, with summer on the horizon, my turmoil seemed to be relenting to my persistent belief that things would get better. One sunny evening I took my bike out from my back porch and made my way down to the budget grocery store near my house. Two years prior at another low point in my life, I had been permanently evicted from that store for shoplifting. Two years is a long time though, and I doubted they remembered me, so I would shoplift again from time to time, keeping an eye out and putting the merchandise in my bag as I perused the aisles. 


Soon after my bike hit the pavement I saw two rabbits mating in the park near my house, with a third sitting and watching from off to the side. Sometimes these things move me to tears, I see life around me engaging with the world in such an unburdened way and I start to spiral on my own sense of alienation. Maybe if I could have just had a normal job and normal expectations from life I would feel more stable. Somehow my expectations never seem to match with the reality presented to me, and I have a hard time entering that reality as an active participant as it doesn’t come naturally. Sometimes I wish I was even the third rabbit, watching unselfconsciously like that. I’ve always admired people who experience things without questioning whether it’s the right or wrong kind of way to experience a thing. 


I honestly don’t want to shoplift any more. I had outgrown my compulsion for it, and although it served a practical function now, I made a decision on my ride down to never shoplift again. Often upon leaving a store, once the paranoia was gone, I would get this awful sense of shame burning down my throat like boiling syrup. This time, I told myself, I would put it on my credit card and save myself from that horrible feeling. Parking my bike on the side of the building, I passed the two sets of sliding doors and kept my head down as I walked under the CCTV camera. I turned left at the third aisle to fill my basket with spices and canned beans. I passed a few mothers with their children in tow, but the store was otherwise empty. I paid at the self checkout and went to leave when I felt a hand press up against my lower back in an assertive and intimate way.


Surprised, I turned around to see a young woman staring at me intently although her face was a little blurry. I forget what I said but she pursed her lips and said something back that I also forget, and led me off to the right, past the cashiers and into a backroom with staff lockers and camera feeds from around the store. I don’t remember exactly what happened, as my brain was operating differently. I saw her lips moving. I’d been in the room before, when I’d been caught two years ago. I started to imagine that I was making my way through tall grass at the end of a summer day and the sky was pink in that special way that's only there for a couple weeks and there was not that much moisture in the air but I couldn’t see that well and my breath was coming out slowly and there were small inoffensive flies that were buzzing overhead and the ground was accommodating to my feet and I could smell something familiar. After a while I came back to reality to find I was alone in the room. I tested the door but it was locked. 


I sat back down and waited. The door opened. 


The first person through the door was the woman who had stopped me. She had soft features. The second figure was roughly my height and wrapped in a hooded cloak, and I couldn’t make out anything from behind the cowl. After recovering from my episode, I sat poised and open, trying to physically express that I was at ease and no threat to public safety. ‘Good Day’ I said ‘What is Going On?’ Obviously relieved to see me talking, the woman who stopped me introduced herself as Camilla. She told me that the ——  (name of the store) has been using a new type of intelligence software for facial recognition and I came up in their database as a criminal trespassing on their property. She had detained me on these charges, and had only refrained from calling the police because I was having some kind of episode. The second figure brought their hands up and slowly removed the hood. ‘Hello, I am Samantha. I am a sound healer and Camilla brought me in here to tend to you’. She had alert eyes, and I could sense goodness. ‘Despite Camilla’s misunderstandings and scorn over my psychological practice, she did turn to me first, for which I am grateful - and you should be too.’ 


I couldn’t think of much to say, I wanted to let both of them know I was quite sorry for my transgressions against the store. ‘I’m very sorry for my transgressions against the store,’ I said humbly. I thought it might be too much to hang my head in shame, although shame had caught up to me already. I kept my gaze steady but I was falling apart inside. I didn’t want criminal charges, and I knew they were well within their rights to call the police. Oddly, neither of them uttered a single word. I saw Camilla tensing her facial features like she was holding something back. Samantha struck me as quite an impressive figure in her hooded cloak, and I felt a sense of awe come over me.  She knows something important, I thought to myself. 


Camilla had had enough of the silence, and I saw her hand fidgeting with the strap of her taser. As though she was choosing each word carefully, she said ‘Samantha has this idea that you need something other than punishment to unlock what is good inside of you.’ Camilla then said ‘I am trying to learn more about how to approach justice from a holistic perspective, so I’m going to give you two options or I’m calling law enforcement:


  1. You pay back your debt to —— in labour. You will owe two months of part time work at a cash register.
  2. You let Samantha lead a ritual to ground you into your confidence and goodness and expunge your poor behaviour. We will not tell you what the ritual is.

Camilla stared at me hard. After a second she said “Samantha says she wants to help me too with something… I can’t say I trust her, but I have a dark shadow that follows me. Not the ordinary one, but a second one that sits down on the chair next to me at meal times, and makes me feel like there is a bubble of hard air that’s spun around my head when I am alone and it scares me’. She ran her hand over her taser again. ‘She thinks we can help each other’.


I reflected on this. I didn’t like working. I felt like I could trust Samantha. She had a cooling effect. I didn’t want to think too hard anymore. ‘Samantha, Camilla, I will take the second option. What is it?’


Samantha spun and struck off the lights, leaving the room lit only by the soft glow of the CCTV footage. From my bench, I saw Samantha and Camilla disrobing. Samantha, in one fluid motion dropping her garb to reveal a nude figure underneath. Camilla began by unlacing her military grade boots and once those were off, she went from the top down. She looked soft. She was wearing a little silver necklace and matching bracelet. Samantha quietly commanded me to remove my own clothing, although I have no memory of hearing the words out loud. To my surprise, I had trouble getting my pants off because of how hard I was. I was scared but relieved to be able to have something to do. 


I smelled a pleasant odour coming from where the two women stood. Samantha rummaged in her cloak and brought out two strung instruments on wooden frames that I had never seen before, and set off a pair of ringing notes as she began to play for us. 


Despite Camilla's firmly set jaw, I could see how her body relaxed to the music, and I felt my inhibitions lower as well. It was obvious what was supposed to happen. I could smell her pheromones from across the room. I let instinct take over and I moved towards her. I got on my knees and went to take a dental dam from the desk, when the music stopped. I heard the electric crackle of a taser. I looked up at Camilla but she was staring down at me bare handed. I turned my head to see Samantha smiling knowingly at me, hand on the taser. She shook it back and forth in gentle rebuke until I dropped the dental dam. She picked up her instruments and resumed the music. I used my mouth and hands. Each time I would start to slip away into my world of fantasy, I would hear the taser behind me and the electric air would snap me back into the present. I didn’t stop until I felt the waves of pleasure roll over Camilla. 


We made love in a number of positions, and it was good. 


I felt the inside of her reacting to the music, grip and pull, grip and pull, almost like she was trying to take something off of me. I began to feel very close to her. I felt like I had been experiencing my emotional world through a burlap sack, and the mesh was spreading apart, life was coming into greater clarity. It wanted to see reality so badly my chest hurt. My soul felt held down by a weighted blanket, and when she would grip and pull, a lightness took over, the weight lessening. As I approached climax, the bag ripped wide open, the music sped up and the blanket was lifted. I ejaculated deep inside her, I felt human. 


I closed my eyes. I was swimming, along with millions of others just like me, seeing millions of perspectives at once. We were racing through a familiar tunnel, but heading in a different direction than normal. I was pure being, part of a larger collection of existence. I followed the stream and we spread that presence and existence wherever we could - letting our oxygen mix with our hosts, bringing light into darkness and filling fissures in the tissue. Cool pond on the night of a full moon, a soothing force.


When I opened my eyes again, Camilla and I were cocooned in Samantha's warm cloak, holding each other tight. She was breathing softly on me, both of us spent completely. Samantha had her hands over us, humming a frequency that I could barely make out. I drifted back to sleep, watching the comings and goings of the shoppers on the display screens. 


When I left the next morning, I felt liberated. Camilla had no tension in her face, and her features radiated light and warmth. 


I earnestly thanked Samantha. “Thank you Samantha, I feel changed.” “Please Don’t Worry about me now. I won’t come back and trespass, I have learned my lesson, and am grateful to have been met with compassion and sex rather than a court order.” You are a good person, I whispered. I kissed Camilla on the forehead and I never saw either of them again ever. 


Saturday, May 23, 2026

Garden shed (part 1?)


It was a beautiful Monday morning. Most mornings were spent tending to my garden. It was on this day that my small-fruited tomato, a sweet 100 variety, sprouted a yellow flower that moved me to tears.

“Finally!” I cried softly. The fruits of my labour began to pay off. 

I ran into the house to tell John that my garden was starting to blossom. 

“Wow, that's amazing! But why are you crying?” He asked innocently.

“I have been so fixated on Mother Nature's synchronicity and natural interconnectedness between seed germination, life and its sustenance,” I exclaimed passionately. 

“Wow, that’s interesting,” John muttered and walked into the kitchen. 


John was a nice guy. He was from Winnipeg, grew up in a nice suburban home with two loving parents, had a master's degree in economics and a stable job, but I began to absolutely despise him. We had been dating for two years, and we met when his corporate tech workplace called FutureMaking came into my garden to volunteer. Initially annoyed that the tech bros came into my sanctuary, John intrigued me. I was in a bad mood that day and felt like being bossy. 

“Go fill up those mounds now,” I exclaimed to John and his friends.

While his coworker George looked annoyed that I was bossing them around, John immediately went with his wheelbarrow and didn’t ask any questions. I noticed that as he was walking, he had these large, thick hands. They weren’t the kind you see when you go to a car mechanic or ironworker, where they were big but leathery, tense and filled with grease, like the kind that knew struggle. His were big, but they had a softness to them, the kind that felt like they could hold you. 


“Should this go here?” John asked?

“Yes,” I half yelled. Tired from the afternoon's rising heat, I didn’t feel like carrying anything anymore.

“Hey, do you mind carrying this compost back to the shed?” I asked John.

Springing to action immediately, he says yes, of course I can.

I smiled. “You guys should come here more often.” 

We made eye contact and laughed. I followed him to the shed. 

I had around 100 ears of corn in a bag that John began to carry. I noticed he picked up things with ease, and I started feeling something towards him. I wasn’t sure what it was, but I was feeling something. 


“So where are you from?” John asked.

“I’m from the northern part of the Yukon.” While I replied, he began to sweat and took his shirt off, revealing a tighter long sleeve underneath. I noticed his hands weren’t the only big thing. 

Seeing his biceps, I embarrassedly became flustered. Hopefully I kept my cool, but while looking at his vivacious upper half, he glanced over and smiled. Oh no. 

“Wow, the Yukon looks beautiful. I’ve always wanted to go.”

“I’m going this summer, you should come,” I half-joked, feeling immediately confused why I said that. 

He laughed. “Don’t tempt me. But I’m sure it’s not half as beautiful as you are.” 

I was shocked. Did a tech bro named John really just say that to me? While I always thought some of my features were beautiful, like my brown eyes and cheeks full of freckles, I didn’t always feel beautiful. I didn’t want to admit it, but it made me feel special.


“Hey, don’t get too behind on that corn now,” I commanded. Knowing I sounded bossy, I winked, and he laughed and finished the final load.

“I’m sorry if I came off strong earlier; it's just something about you,” John stated, looking at me with curiosity behind those deep green eyes. 

“I’m flattered, but I’m not looking for anything right now,” I said with half pain and half sarcasm. 

“It’s okay, Im sorry if I overstepped,” John said with such tenderness and respect. He began to walk out of the shed when I said, “Hey, wait!” 


He turned around and looked at me with this look I will never forget, complete excitement. 

“This has never happened to me in my life before, but do you want to have sex? My heart is not open right now, but I haven’t been able to stop looking at you and feeling this strong urge and desire to feel you.” 

He looked at me. 

Oh my gosh, why the hell did I say that? I haven’t had sex since my previous partner 2 years ago, and now I’m looking like a crazy, horny mess. 

Without saying anything, John walked towards me. 


As he walked closer to me, we made eye contact. Without saying anything, John bowed before me and rested on his knee. 

What? I was mortified. 

As I looked down in confusion, John carefully and slowly grabbed my thigh. I felt like I could scream from pure shock. 

He looked up at me, and I immediately became flustered and hot. He gently laid his big hand on my legs and caressed my tattoos on my leg. I felt his big, soft lips begin to kiss my thighs, and I began to feel ecstatic. He made his way up to my belly, gently passing my private parts and made his way to my breasts. I immediately became so hot and bothered that I grabbed him to stand up, and he reached my hips to pull me in and kiss me.  It felt primal. We moved past the shyness and awkwardness of kissing and rushed into something so passionate. I felt like I could eat him. The raw passion and energy between us could fuel anything into existence. His kiss felt so new, so different and raw. He began to touch my breasts and looked down at me with such lust that he ripped my shirt off. I was not used to being naked in front of someone, and today, of all days, was one when I wasn’t wearing a bra. He stopped, looked at me and smiled. Without a moment's notice, he began kissing and fondling my breasts, avoiding my nipples. “It "It’s okay, you can touch them,” I half moaned and announced. He immediately did what I said. In that moment, I felt like I could ask him to do anything under the sun and he would do it for me. 

Next to us was a table with a gingham cloth, and he picked me up, put me on it, and we made out viciously. I began to get excited about the idea of his penis inside me. I could feel it brushing up against his pants and knew we would fit perfectly. But then I started to laugh. 

“What's funny?” he looked confused. 

“I never thought I’d be doing this,” I exclaimed.

“Me neither, but now I want it forever,” he said. I smiled. So did I. 

I decided to get up. He was confused. 

“Gardeners aren’t easy, you know, if you want to feel this,” and I put his hand on my wet panties,” you will have to wait,” I said proudly. 

Worried about his reaction but not showing it, I was wondering if he would be upset. Again, he had this look in his eye that he would do anything in this world for me.

He grabbed my hand, placed it on his crotch and said: “Whenever you’re ready, I’ll be here.” 

We both looked at each other and smiled. 

“Besides, we have a garden to tend to.” 



SENT IN ANONYMOUSLY FROM A READER. NOT MY STORY!

Saturday, May 16, 2026

on suppression, rage and masking. A Naturalists perspective on the relation between emotional repression and the so called ‘protected’ modes of fornication

 From an early age many of us learn that no one is truly a safe space for us to be ourselves fully around. Sometimes we learn from family that anger is the only appropriate emotion when faced with difficulty, for others, anger is shut down by mentors and family members, and we learn that it is safer for us to channel that rage inwards rather than let it out. Maybe we go numb, maybe we learn to be small, maybe we learn to criticize ourselves, and we lose the ability to express what’s inside. It’s not our fault. These emotional issues span generations, passing the torch of trauma from one unhealed offspring to the next. If as a child you learned that your authentic feelings would be rejected, as a survival mechanism you likely rejected or dismissed yourself in order to preserve the relationship. 

As an adult, I’ve struggled with this emotional and personality suppression. When I realized that so called ‘protected’ sex was an externalization of this inner suppression, I haven’t been able to sheathe my manhood with a rubber. If my raw nature can’t be accepted, my body shuts down. Making a concession for someone else while being inauthentic to yourself is NOT sexy. I sleep with like minded people. Honestly and clarity are important, and I have never been in an intimate situation without having a conversation about this first, I want someone who can take me as I am, and to let me witness them fully, be a space for each other to explore without needing to mask, to hide our ‘faces’ in shame. See me, that is all I want, witness me. 


Let’s be confident, let’s be confused, let’s be uncertain, but let’s not be controlled. Let our anger, tenderness and ecstasy make something beautiful, let us truly be uncensored, be human. I don’t want to lose myself again. 

Fast and Furious: Carnal Lust Eternal. Cerebral, Sublime, Superhuman Achievement in the Field of Ecstasy!

 The human condition is a subject discussed time and time again by some of the most famous philosophers. I haven’t read much of it, but there is a level of understanding you achieve from just existing. Performance enhancement, not artificially inserted, but wrung from the dishrag of perseverance. I sing the blues to sleep and to wake, there is something torturous about continuation of pattern. I was so upset when I got the letter this morning, abasement of my decency, base functions deserted me and the heart leapt like a heating bill. A decision is made somewhere to pull silly putty apart into wide bubbles and it fits together again but undeniably different. Blow blow blow blow blow blow blow blow blow blow blowjob sex fetish buxom breast balls ballsack bulge bulging boner bran belated birthday outfit birth cleaning it all out break of day sex birthday sex bludgeon butt belated sex boredom blue balls breakfast sex bander casual cum curtain sex pubic curtain cock creampie clitoris condomless colourful rest assure cunt pearl cuorduroy pants and leggings and panty hose strewn on the floor like some cultish contemporaries fantasy of free love. furious i’m furious for many things, i’m cerebral i contend clarity dangerous sex dilf dildo dumb thick dunce doggy style downward dog dick down derive meaning from something like this. clear out the snow something new it evokes clear out the cobwebs clear out the dustbunnies clear out the clear hierarchy in something like this. bland bland bland bland bland now superhuman achievement in the field of ecstasy and other normal compulsive behaviours for humans to endure i think. 

Sunday, May 10, 2026

This Condom Hater Is Hurting

 This Condom Hater Is Hurting. 

I Feel the Sound of Rain. It Bangs at My Ear Drums and Makes Itself Known to Me. I Get No Relief. This Condom Hater Is Tired. This Condom Hater is Alone. This Condom Hater Is Hurting. I See No God When I Close My Eyes. I See Nothing, Or The Absence of Nothing. There Is Light But There Is No Warmth. This Condom Hater Is Confused. This Condom Hater Is Spent. This Condom Hater Is Hurting.

Cockle f’r your troubles, dearies?

Note from the editor: I have no idea what this is supposed to be about or what it means. I got it as a submission. Ok, sure thing- i like th...