Fucking Monsters.

November 17, 2008 |
Fucking Twitter. A series of Tweets with PantheraPardus bounced me out of bed so that I could try to explain to myself why fucked up people turn me on.
 
In 1992 I was living in LA and had gone, with a few girlfriends, to see the new Tarantino flick. I didn’t know anything about it, but it was THE hot indie thing du jour. Of course, being part of the indie cognoscenti back in early 90’s Lost Angels, we went to a little second-run movie house down on Santa Monica Boulevard to catch it.
 
The tie...in that state of rakish dishabille...yeah.

The tie...in that state of rakish dishabille...yeah.

 
It was cool.
 
Cool as fuck. 
 
There were lots of men.
 
Men with guns.
 
And that is cool as motherfuck.
 
I was, within 2 scenes, immediately subsumed within the throes of irrational lust with one of the characters, an actor I’d not seen before but who seemed…
 
I don’t know.
 
Sociopathic?
 
And that was unbelievably hot.  It didn’t hurt that he was one of those rough-hewn grosgrain voiced badmen. NO, that did nothing to lower him in my estimation.  
 
As the movie progressed, his character’s utter lack of regard for the lives of innocent bystanders did little to quell the mysterioso magnetism.
 
Please understand this about me: I am EXTREMELY faithful in my Celebrity Crushes. Nothing so superficial as their becoming old and fat (Like Captain James Tiberius Kirk) or being a goddammed fucking sociopath (like Mr. Blonde) will stop me on my path of unflagging lust.
 
Click for the Eviliciousness.
So when THE SCENE started, (Oh yeah. You know the one.) and Mr. Blonde is ambling about the grimy garage (or carpark for my UK mates) to the wonky strains of “Stuck in the Middle,” I knew I was on the pointy delcious horns of a dilemma.
 
I knew in my gut this was gonna get ugly. Pretty dammed ugly, and I had no idea how I would be able to explain that this was…was becoming…was now the most soulless, horrifying ugliest foreplay to me?
 
He was BLATANTLY dangerous, all sharkgrin and straightedge shambolic sexbeast.
 
Say what you will about Tarantino, his camera had the good grace to carefully turn away as the Cop’s ear goes VanGogh while Mr. Blonde exhorts him to keep still.  He hoves back into frame with an ambiguous look, jaw muscle clenched, gazing at his bloody trophy, expression opaque. 
  Hey what's goin' on? Can you hear that?<br /> 

“Was that as good for you as it was for me?”

Not quite. But almost. Almost.
 
I was repelled, and frankly, grossed out. On-screen viscera makes me dizzy. Lightheaded. My skin crawled and I felt an empathetic heat in my own ears.
 
And I was insanely aroused.
 
That moment, that post bloodlust moment of soulless introspection was the most fascinating piece of the movie for me. I didn’t know what, but I loved that look.
 
I have a bit more of a clue why, these days.
 
Since then, I have seen that look in the eyes of several people, and it gets me as hot today as it did in the darkened air-conditioned bowels of a movie theater in Los Angeles fifteen years ago. 
 
Praise Lord Ganesha I ain’t gotta lose an ear in the process of seeing that blank bloodlust in the flesh.
 
I do, however make small sacrifices.
 
A little bit of safety. 
A little bit of sanity. 
All for the moment…that moment where you remember that the person you love and trust and want to please, with all your heart, is in fact a sadist.
That is a compromise for me, each and every time I play with and accept the treatment of and, gods forbid, fall in love with a sadist.
 
Sure, a “Safe, Sane and Consensual” Sadist.  Or maybe a practitioner of the newfangled “Risk-Aware Consensual Kink“.
 
But this fact remains.  The moments that stick and burn the deepest in me, the spiritual napalm, are those where I wonder “Could they…?”
Could they keep pushing that knife until it pierces flesh? Could they snap in the middle of a scene and go too far? Might he keep biting and rend skin muscle and sinew? Could she walk away and leave me trapped and alone?
 
I hope not, I pray that it won’t ever go that far. But the little piece of me..that thing in all of us that longs for entropy, for oblivion, it craves that danger.
 
I love life. I love being alive, and feeling and pain, and the cessation of pain.
 
And I fucking love The Crazy Eye. 
 
You know what I’m talking about.
 
When you look into the eye of your lover and see….not…them?  SomeThing that is different is revealed. Something gone, something added. One does not have to be in extremis to feel that.
 
The Other is something that practitioners of BDSM and Leather Lifestylers often discuss, sometimes in prose even purpler than mine. But there is a reason for it.
That shit is hot.
 
Otherness is at the root of monster movies, alien flicks, serial killer yarns.
The very idea that something is different can be scary, threatening.
 
SO, if you are turned on by fear and danger…yeah.
 
Monsters become sexy.
 
All kinds.
 
 
What monsters turn you on?
 
 
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Posted in flix!, mollena, Perversions, Real-Honest-To-Ganesha-True-Shit and tagged , , , , ,

3 Comments

  1. lalana on November 17, 2008 at 5:00 AM

    “When you look into the eye of your lover and see….not…them? SomeThing that is different is revealed. Something gone, something added.”

    Yep, that’s it… that’s the look that was in my Master’s eyes last week, that I just COULDN’T put into words. Turned me into a quivering mess, wondering how I could bring that look back into his eyes – and what would happen when I did. Thanks for finding the words!!
    lalana



  2. Panthera Pardus on November 17, 2008 at 8:28 AM

    Oh, see…that’s it. That’s exactly it.

    Michael Madsen in Reservoir Dogs (heck, in anything…he’s usually a little bit batshit in his roles). Dexter. The cultured but animalistic Hannibal Lector. Vincent D’onofrio in The Cell. Tim Curry in Legend.

    There’s a hundred others, and now I’m going to be thinking about them all day.

    When you look into the eye of your lover and see….not…them? SomeThing that is different is revealed.
    I’m new to the BDSM thing, so I’ve only seen a small hint of this…but enough to turn me on and make me want more.

    Sorry I made you lose sleep, but I’m so glad you put this into words the way you did. Nice to know I’m not alone, actually. :)



  3. tiger on November 17, 2008 at 5:12 PM

    Well I just found you recently and I am glad I did. Looking into your lovers eyes. to me that is when you know it is it. If you look into their eyes and they make you feel warm and wet you know you have the right person.

    Glad I found your site and I will be back soon and often. Hope to chat with you soon…hugs to you