FREEDOM THROUGH BONDAGE (= MORE BONDAGE) PART 2.

PHASE 4
Pedushka organized to travel up to Kalimpong in two days and from there she and Dick would spend six days camping and exploring around the countryside in the area surrounding his hometown. He was thrilled and scared. At night as he lay in bed, raped by doubt.
Just because she’s coming to meet me, doesn’t mean she wants to get with me. No expectations. No attachment. No fantasizing about her, just be with her in reality as she really is and not as another idealised feminine mirage like I always do. He thought as he imagined her lithe body straddling him as they passionately kissed like a pair of criminals on deathrow.
Uh uh. He thought grunted, grinding into the cold mattress beneath him. The next two days, he walked around in a barely disguised panic attack. His uncle and cousin became worried about his behavior. He was prone to sudden and inexplicable yelling and brief fits of shaking at the slightest loud noise. ‘What’s wrong with you?’ They asked him.
‘HAHA! NOTHING! NOTHING IS WRONG! EVERYTHING IS ALL RIGHT! ALL RIGHT! ALRIGHT? HAHA HAHA!’
The big day arrived. He was a nervous wreck. He went out and bought a few supplies for the trip. He thought about whether or not he should buy condoms. He didn’t want to jinx the trip with expectations, but then again, he didn’t want to get her pregnant and create more spectators for the fast-approaching apocalypse, as it was already an oversold show. Fuck it. He went up to the pharmacist.
‘Uhh I’ll have some mosquito repellent and some toothpaste.’ He feigned reading the fake list that was really just a blank piece of paper in his hand.
‘Oh yeah… And uhh haha… Some condoms… Haha…’ The young man behind the cash register nodded.
‘You want the 3 pack, the 10 pack or the 20 pack?’ He asked. Dick’s stupid brain began to do the maths. They would spend six days together. How many times could they possibly have sex with one another? 3, 10 or 20? What if they really hit it off? What if they had sex 30 times? Better safe than sorry. He should go with two 20 packs, allowing for 10 extra unplanned bouts of sex that might spontaneously arise, say when they were in the woods and there was no one else around. But two 20 packs just seemed too optimistic. Plus on the off chance she accidentally discovered them, what would that say about him? Who would trust a guy who brought 40 condoms for a six day trip?
‘Sir, how many would you like? There are other customers waiting.’ He turned to see the line of five customers patiently waiting behind him.
‘Ten pack. Just the ten pack.’ The shop assistant nodded and wrapped his package in newspaper and handed it to him. He paid for it and left.
When he got home he opened up the package with trembling fingers. They were called ‘MANforce’ The first half of the name in uppercase and the second half of the title inexplicably written in lower case italics. They were extra dotted for more pleasure and jasmine flavoured. Dick never understood why they flavoured condoms. He was pretty sure vaginas didn’t have taste buds inside of them, and if they did, he was fairly sure they wouldn’t taste jasmine, they would taste low quality latex rubber mixed with only a slight flavour of cheap imitation jasmine extract lurking in the background. And if he was just another dumb male and vaginas did in fact have tastebuds, he resolved to buy a punnet of fresh strawberries and some sweets to feed the next one he had the pleasure of catering for. Dick looked at his face in the mirror, frozen stiff with panic.
‘Be cool, fool. Relax, everything will be fine.’ He said in a quavering, definitely racist, African-american voice. He then noticed that his hair was somewhat overgrown and needed cutting. Maybe she would see his hair and not want to fuck him. Shit. He looked at his watch. She would be here soon. He ran out of the house, trying to locate a barber, but for some reason all the barbershops had a line of customers in them.
Fuck fuck. He thought, walking up and down the street with great purpose, pushing old ladies, aging Tibetan Buddhist refugee monks and disabled begging children out of his path. Eventually he managed to locate a barber who was free and he had his hair cut. He went home and then spent half an hour trying to style his hair in what he thought was the most attractive way but did not betray the amount of effort he’d gone to make it so.
God this is so pathetic. What am I, a 15 yr old girl? He thought.
No. You’re a 33 yr old emotional cripple. Nanobot #dc345295281 answered.

CELIBACY

The only issue he had was that he’d made a vow of celibacy 8 months back. It’s a whole other story but in brief, he was working with a shaman who went by the name of ‘He Who Walks With Untied Bootlaces’ Who’d put him under a very deep trance and while on a vision quest removing harmful emotional wounds from his heart area, incurred when his much loved dog had died of cardiac arrest in his arms ten years previous, he had made contact with a certain deity who wishes to remain anonymous, who demanded that he make a vow of celibacy for him in return for healing his wounds and teaching him several things. Yep, it was just your average Saturday night.
Vow of celibacy hmmm? He thought. He hadn’t been getting much action lately anyway, so he felt he may as well make it official.
‘But wait, how long do I have to be celibate for? I don’t think I could do forever.’ He bickered.
‘Fine. Just till you meet your soulmate.’ The deity replied patiently. ‘Soulmate? You believe in that stuff? How long will that be?’
‘It is as long as it has to be.’
‘What kind of answer is that?’
‘It’s the only answer I can give you.’
‘Shit.’
‘Yep. That’s the score.’
‘How about just till I meet someone I can practice non-frivolous, spiritually oriented sex with that seeks to mutually raise both of our consciousnesses? I mean this soulmate business is pretty I don’t know…’ The deity sighed and rolled his eyes.
‘Fine fine… You can make a vow of celibacy till you meet someone who you can practice meaningful, non-frivolous, spiritually oriented blah blah blah… Whatever… Gees.’
‘Great!’ Dick offered a handshake.
‘BUT! No sex — not even masturbation before then.’
‘Not even masturbation?’
‘Nope. Bottom line, no ejaculation. No unnecessary dispersals of energy.’
‘Ah shit. Okay. Deal.’ They shook on it and that was that. For the next eight months he endured a rare form of self-imposed torture that made him empathise with what it must feel like to be a sex criminal on parole, living on the edge of committing another crime every waking moment of every day. It’s difficult to completely outline what this feels like so here are a few short situations detailing his position:
1. One day while attending a mostly female attended yoga class taking place in a mirrored room, he had to make some excuses and leave 7 minutes into the class, covering his groin area with his rolled up yoga mat so as to not cause any public disturbance.
2. One day he had to stay on the bus six stops past his stop, after watching a heavily tattooed goth girl eating an ice cream for too long.
3. He had to speak louder than normal to any female he was talking to in order to drown out the million tiny voices in the back of his head chanting the mantra: FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK
4. He began to have nightly dreams where he would be about to have sex with a girl, only to have them reject him at the last moment with the recurring reposte: ‘Aren’t you meant to be celibate right now?’, before disappearing in a puff of black smoke, as he shouted ‘No! No! Come back!’, while attempting to clutch at their dissipating forms.
5. When he finally got jack of his celibacy vow and attempted to break it by sleeping with a few girls, on all occasions at the pivotal moment, either the erotic feelings between them suddenly dissappeared or a fight broke out and he would be forced to leave the situation.

Dick decided to turn to his dead grandfather, whom he’d never met and had developed the healthy habit of conversing with- esp on difficult matters- for advice. He lit some incense for him and thought of him, his image slowly coming into focus like a developing photograph.
‘Gramps. I really like this girl I will be meeting. I think I want to uhh… Do it to her… I mean with her. But I got this celibacy vow thing hanging over me and I don’t want to get punished for breaking it. What should I do?’ He saw the image of his granddad in his head patiently stroking his chin.
‘Well grandsonny… I feel that maybe you need to get your fucken head checked out — after all you’re consulting your dead grandfather about a vow of celibacy you made to a deity — but in the meantime, I will give you a short piece of advice, but it’s an important piece of advice and I want you to listen carefully and I want you to remember it.’ He spoke. Dick leaned closer to his spectral form as his mouth moved closer to his ear.
‘You can’t fuck when you’re dead.’ His grandfather whispered hoarsely.
‘You can’t fuck when you’re dead.’ Dick repeated.
‘Yep. You can’t fuck when you’re dead. Take it from me. I should know… Being dead and all. My sex life now sucks balls.’ He said, sitting up and lighting a ghostly cigar.
‘You are so right. I’m alive. I should fuck. One day I will dead and I won’t be able to fuck.’
‘Uh huh, you got it. You’re a smart cookie. I suggest you go for a walk up the ridge… There’s something up there you can find that will help you with your problem.’
Dick took grandad’s advice and went for a stroll up into the hills above Kalimpong. It was a lovely day and sunshine burst through intermittent light fog that wrapped the hills like white silk scarves. Dick kept walking towards no particular destination, distracted by the marvelous flowers everywhere and the rich green forest. As he reached the top of the ridge, he spotted in the distance a 20 foot tall Hanuman statue standing on a highpoint. Hanuman was the hindu monkey deity who come to be known as the representation of honesty, devotion and correct action. He was also a celibate. It was clear what he had to do. He headed towards his statue, stopping to buy a packet of incense, before walking up the steep staircase to the idol. When he reached the top he prostrated before him.
‘Hanuman, I think you’re a real fucken cool dude. I mean you got a mace that you use to club planets and demons into submission with and you’re a motherfucking gigantic monkey to boot. Total obesience to you.’
‘Yeah yeah, god you humans are pathetic. Get on with it, what do you want from me?’ Hanuman answered, sighing.
‘I made a vow of celibacy to someone you know wink wink, and I uhh met this pretty special girl and I uhh want to ummm you know… Uhh do it… I mean merge with her on a spiritual-’
‘So you want this celibacy vow lifted?’ Hanuman interrupted, sighing, twirling the end of his tail between his thumb and forefinger.
‘How did you know?’
‘I’m the frickin’ monkey god. It’s no problem my man. Just light six incense sticks for me and circumnambulate around me six times scattering one flower for each of the six rounds you make. ’
‘That’s it?’
‘Pretty much.’ Hanuman said, smiling mischievously.
‘Why are you smiling like that?’
‘You’ll find out soon. For now just do this and you’ll be free.’ Dick thanked him and dutifully carried out his orders.

PHASE 4 (CONT.)

Now Dick was standing at the taxi stand nervously awaiting her arrival. He wasn’t sure whether he should be the first one to arrive or whether he should come after he’d known she would arrive. He didn’t want to come on too hard in the first place, Neil Strauss had written in ‘The Game’ that to be an alpha male you had to pretend to not be interested or something. But he was interested, that’s why he was sweating heavily while trying hard to disguise a nascent semi-boner with his backpack. Several buses arrived and each one he ran out to try and see if she was on them. The fourth bus, he spotted her face in the window. She was more lovely than he’d remembered. He waved at her and she waved back, her face flushing with pleasure.
Uh uh. He thought grunted. She got off the bus. His eyes melted into her. Holyshitshe’slovelyfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck.
‘Diiiick!! So nice to see you!’ She said.
‘Uh uh.’ He grunted, heart thumping.
‘Where should we go now?’
‘Uh uh.’ He grunted, heart thumping.
‘Are you okay? You seem… disturbed.’
‘Uh uh.’ He grunted, heart thumping. It began to rain. Cold drops splashed onto his face, rousing him out of his fugue.
‘Shit you want to grab a tea or something?’ He asked.
‘Yess. We must get out of thees rain.’ She said.
‘Do you want chai?’ She asked.
‘No… no actually I don’t think I should have any caffeine, it uhh makes me very nervous sometimes.’ What he needed he thought, was some heroin, several shots of hard liquor and a handjob against his will from an aging professional.
‘Umm listen we need to get to Pedong by tonight. It’s getting late.’
‘Ok, you know.’ They walked up the street and tried to flag a taxi down in the pouring rain. He resolved that he had to come across as assertive and confident, demonstrating this by running onto the road in front of every moving vehicle, flapping his hands up and down like a wounded flamingo in an effort to make them stop. But it was no use, they were all full.
‘Shit.’ He spat, soaking wet. Pedushka smiled her secret smile at him.
‘Perhaps we should go down to the taxi stand and catch something from down there? I mean it seems they all leave from there…’ She said. He didn’t want to seem as weak in front of her.
‘Just let me just try once more, you just stand here under the cover.’ He ran up the road, chasing after a van, eventually catching it when it stopped outside a shop so the driver could buy a pack of cigarettes.
‘Pedong?‘ He asked him.
‘Go to the taxi stand.’ He said. Dick ran back to Pedushka who was waiting patiently in the rain in her red coat looking bemused.
‘He says we should go down to the taxi stand.’ She nodded, amused at his antics. They went down to the taxi stand and immediately caught a share jeep that was packed to the brim with ten other people. They had to wear their backpacks on their laps, and there was not enough space, so Pedushka was pushed into his left arm and chest. Dick tried to locate her warmth with every available nerve cell in the localized area.
‘Uh uh.’ He grunted.
‘What?’
‘Feels good.’
‘What feels good?’
‘Uhh… Getting out of the rain.’ They drove in the rain for forty minutes to get to Pedong. By the time they arrived in the small rural town, it was dark and they had no idea where to stay. They asked the driver for a cheap place to stay for the night and he shrugged and pointed down the road and then got back into his car and drove off.
‘Ummm I guess we should walk down this way.’ Dick said. They walked down the darkened road shivering in their wet clothes. A shopkeeper was nice enough to point them towards a homestay at the end of the road. The homestay was out the back of a pigfarm, and so funnily enough, smelled of pigshit. The room was okay. After showers they sat down to eat some dahl baht the family had cooked. They had a brief chat. They were Christian Nepalis and ran a pig and chicken farm as well as this fledgling homestay. They were very kind and courteous people. Dick and Pedushka made their excuses and decided to retire for the night. This was it. He was alone with her. Finally. He sat on the other bed inert, and they talked for a while. She went to the bathroom and while she was in the bathroom, Dick slid into the other half of the bed and pretended to go on his phone. When she emerged he looked up as if he was in the middle of something, trying to gauge the expression on her face. It betrayed nothing. She simply just slid back into her half of the bed and turned off the light. They continued talking about various things, her life back in Poland, the problems of growing up in the West and a bunch of other things he couldn’t care to remember because all he could think was here he was in bed with this fucking lovely creature in their pyjamas, separated only by 20 centimetres of distance and he couldn’t work out how he could slide on over. It was obvious, he should just do it. But instead he kept talking until eventually she simply said.
‘I’m sorry, but I’m so tired from travelling, I need to go to sleep.’
‘Okay.’ He said. He listened to her breath grow slower and slower and inhaled her scent deeply like a fucking psychopath. Then he lay there impotently, cursing himself on his inability to act. Why why why.
Be cool, fool. No rush, just act when the moment’s right. Don’t force things. Nanobot #kklt0999387666cv advised him.
‘You’re damn right, you tiny archon.’ He said, settling in for the night, turning to face his sleeping fantasy, trying in vain to discern her form through the dark.