Mar 092005

Years ago when I was a little tiny kid, I was terribly lonely. My circle of friends included Batman, Luke Skywalker and Winnie the Pooh. Naturally I was drawn to fiction that included groups or teams working together. My favorite was the Justice League, a team of superheroes who had an orbiting superhero base and their own signal devices. I so badly wanted to be in a superhero team.

Then a funny thing happened around puberty. I devolped a sex drive and I had parents who taught me sex was bad. I felt bad for mentally undressing every girl in every class. I felt more like a bad guy than a hero and that was when I discovered the ultimate in comic book perversities. It was a little flash in the pan series that died in the 70’s called, the Secret Society of Super-Villians.

Well now. The SSoSV had a secret clubhouse, a secret code and more importantly, they had a reason to band together. Everyone else was after them.

As I grow older, I find myself joining real secret societies. We call them BDSM groups now. We meet at resturaunts under assumed names. We sign legal waivers at dungeons. As the conservatives work day and night to regulate what we do in our bedrooms, we go deeper and deeper underground to hide ourselves yet still find others like us. The sad thing is, the more secrecy we must use, the more intimate and special I am finding all this.

Porn knows this. The Story of O is really the story of a bunch of people creating their own society that hides from the real world. The idea of a secret society of white slavers is either the thrust of a lot of porn, or the demon enemy of a lot of mainstream fiction. Deep down, we suspect people are engaging in secret sex all over the place and damn it, we want in.

Robert Anton Wilson has written a lot about the Illumanati and secret societies in general. If Robert has taught me anything, it’s that secret groups prey on the lonely and dissillusioned to control them with the carrot of making them feel like they belong so that they can advance their own agenda. I know that in my heart but instead of turning me off to them, I just change my need from belonging to the groung into controlling the group. I am a sick puppy.

I’m getting ready to embark on a long story about a secret society of sluts. It occurs to me that now more than ever, people can’t get their groove on without some help. There is so much guilt and shame involved, I really think that for a person to really enjoy a one night stand they have to have a secret decoder ring and maybe an orbiting mansion. I am going to try to see if I can make a group that frees people from guilt yet at the same time they use that guilt to lure their members in. Most importantly, I want to make a book that makes the readers feel like they are not alone in their secret kinks.

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