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My family moved constantly throughout my childhood. My father joined
the army twice, each time trying to run away from his life. At other
times he owned or managed restaurants.
Of course, there were interesting places like New Orleans where the
frat boys vomited in the gutters and Chicago where the wind was like a
hawk driving its claws into your skin. When I was sixteen we lived in
Yuma, Arizona and my first sweetheart was a Marine MP that summer. Our
first kiss was among the oranges trees in a orchard looking at the
crisp full moon. This was more enjoyable than visiting on the other
side of the border once, remember watching a group of obese tourists
suddenly come down with diarrhea and make run for their car. Traveling
again and in Kansas, there was just Kansas and more Kansas.
I finally got rid of my family, wishing I could divorce them, by moving
to Seattle where I hoped to lick my bruises and to live better. Since
then, I have not enjoyed traveling in the normal way.
It might have been wonderful to elegantly travel from place to place in
the Golden Age of Travel, but now jets with nothing but peanuts,
pretzels and final destinations to offer spew people from one part of
the country to another. And most destinations I've seen are tourist
traps wrapped in a world-consuming suburbia. So I have no longer
travel in the traditional way but take my journeys by doing things that
are best done at home.
The man locked in my cage for a week, for instance, is miles ahead of
the tourist in Hawaii who left her baby under the shade of a palm tree
only to have the infant killed by a falling coconut. In other big
island mishaps, tourists ignoring signs which instruct them not to walk
on the cooling lava crust fall hideously through the crust and into the
molten goo beneath. Being locked in my cage is just safer.
A friend who lives in San Francisco enjoys being abducted. To be
honest, most tourists to the wonderful world of fantasy abduction are
novices who never take the time to check their fantasy against reality.
Most people seeking to be abducted discover at some point during their
actual abduction that all they really wanted was permission to
experience what they had already decided to experience anyway. But
this man had been abducted before and had enjoyed it. Now he asked his
Seattle host to help him fall prey to a new abduction for which I was
to be the organizer (partly because I had done abductions before and
partly because he and I had never met).
We worked several months planning the abduction. Abductions are tricky
for a number of reasons, not least among those being that a sloppy
fantasy abduction scene can attract a lot of unwanted police attention.
The man was abducted on Friday evening at 3 AM. He was assaulted,
handcuffed for traveling and taken naked from his host's house to the
van. He slept in my cell and in the morning he got a metal bowl of
cold oatmeal with no raisins, no cinnamon, no brown sugar and no
butter. As he ate this, he thought it was as delicious a feast as
dinner at Maxim's. To him, the most horrible part of this abduction
was that he had to leave on Monday morning to go home.
If you had to choose, would you pick the weekend in which you realize
your most powerful erotic fantasies or the weekend you get to spend
with perky, singing animatronics?
There are so many ways to travel. One of my favorites is bending a guy
over to make him ready for a southland vacation. Among the travel
accessories to have on hand: a small can of Crisco with my name on the
lid, Eros lube, gloves, soft paper towels, newspaper and a bedside
urinal. One useful travel hint is not to share your grease and other
supplies during a party because things might get nasty. I keep a sport
drink nearby because this excursion takes a lot of energy.
If my partner is a good boy he will have transitioned from heavy food
to light food the night before we leave. Gravity isn't just a good
idea - it's the law. On the day we depart, he should switch to broth
and other clear foods. Then he should spend time on the hose so
everything is tidy and
clean. What this vacation lacks in spontaneity it makes up for in
intimacy and eroticism.
As we start out it is best to think of this as being like a Zen
journey. Arriving at the destination can be sad. It is better to take
our time, to let go of goals. My hand reaches and makes it softer,
more tender, relaxed. And more grease and more grease. I continue
until I find a private space
that has opened. There are three doors, sphincters, each opening until
I feel that I am holding his heart with my hand. It is true, tourist,
of course, that you can not reach your real heart, but it can feel as
though you have reached it.
We pause in the landscape of a holy ground. And, finally, we know when
it is time to go back. We take care and are gentle. We do not let the
doors slam closed. There is another style of this trip that is more
physical, but that is for another time. This gentle style is a good
start.
And of course eventually the vacation, like all vacations, is done.
Before we know it, it is Monday morning with so many cold, greedy,
lonely people. Many people assume that alternative relationships (and
the people who have them) are simply abusive. Please do not trust the
gossip or the stereotypes.
The important thing to remember is that you can choose how you travel
and you have more options that you can imagine. If you do chose one of
these other paths, please take a moment and get a map so that you do
not get lost. That can be very annoying.
Aubrey Hart Sparks is an erotic philanthropist, author, and activist. In December he reached his goal of the Tony DeBlase Scholarship fund to be used for students entering the fields of research that furthers the understanding of human sexuality. leatherdaddy.com
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