Inside my head

Diary 23rd June

My head is full of shadows and winding staircases. Endless passageways are lit by flickering candle flames. Interlinked they form a labyrinth of elaborate nightmares – nightmares that pursue the unwary intruder! Oh, and yes, there are skeletons in every cupboard here: the bodies of undesired strangers. And in each of the many rooms can be found a tormented, agonized victim of my sick psyche…


I constructed my first female companion from a Meccano set my father gave me for my eighth birthday. I fashioned her vagina by mixing part 131, the dredger bucket, with five of part 142a, the rubber tires. I started fucking her from that first night. She was most immodest in bed, so that I named her Insatiable Alice. And we remained lovers until I was sent away to boarding school two years later. I didn’t see my Alice again until I was sixteen years old, and she was partly dismantled and rusting at the back of the garden shed. I cried for her; real tears. I was truly heartbroken. But then I wondered what I could build with all those Lego pieces in that ancient cake tin?

Lego and latex together – and you have Insatiable Alice Mk II.

Oh, Lord, what a tease!

Believe me when I tell you I often had to beg her to let me cum! Spread like a pinned butterfly on my bed beneath her, her red-brick and latex mouth teasing me. My hands palm deep in her yellow-brick hair…

I used to love most the way her breathing changed when I caressed her thighs at night.


And so I’m going away, away, away – for one month. I need rest and sun and fresh air. I need to hear midnight conversations in Italiano, make love on moonlit beaches and eat great dishes of spaghetti and roasted vegetables.

Tomorrow I leave!

Scendo a prendere le valigie!


Conversation yesterday: Yes, yes there should be ‘licensed’ prostitutes who can satisfy the desire of certain people for flagellation. And while I may think the practice personally repellent, my own sado-masochistic requirements are easily satisfied by listening to Zerlina sing ‘Bati, batti’…

Indeed. Wolfgang Amadeus does it for me every time!


I agree with Maureen Duffy that our definition of a fairy cannot be restricted to saccharine and predominantly nineteenth century images of figures dressed in white tulle. No, they must be recognised as malignant and malevolent beings who’ve escaped from the human subconscious into the material world…


Isn’t it strange. Anglo Saxon attitudes dictate that lovemaking should be hidden away, carried out in darkness, a secret in part unpleasant and certainly not a fit subject for discussion in polite company. And yet we practice acts of violence in broad daylight, in sight of all! Some of these acts are government sponsored, others are replicated on our television and cinema screens and called ENTERTAINMENT!

Riane Eisler points out the average US child will watch over 20,000 screen murders and witness 200,000 acts of violence before they are eligible to vote!

Makes you think, doesn’t it?


Over Samhain my thoughts turned to the dead. Mikey, my oldest friend, taken sixteen years ago. And to Con who was so determined to die in the end. And all the others, family and friends, gone but never forgotten, living on in my thoughts.

I think too of Gerald Gardner. “The father of witchcraft”. Founder of Wicca. Who died way back in 1964, but whose legacy lives on in the growth of Wicca – in the last UK census it was up there in the top ten religions practiced across England and Wales.

Who could have guessed that Gardner with his many obsessions, his sun worship, nudism, photography (he installed his own dark room at Highcliffe, his house just south of the New Forest in Hampshire, in order to process his own photographs of naked ladies and gentlemen), his flagellation (for recreational pleasure), and his study of religion, folklore and magic, would found Wicca (his new religion) from a hodge-podge of borrowed ideas. But that’s just what he did.

Gardner wrote, of nudity in general and the Great Rite in particular:

“To us it is natural, and if it aids the Great Work it is good. ‘Tis true that a couple burning with a frenzy for knowledge may go straight to their goal, but the average couple have not this fire. We show them the way, our system of props and aids (i.e., magic ritual). A couple working with nothing but lust will never attain in any case; but a couple who love each other dearly should already be sleeping together, and the first frenzy of love will have passed, and their souls will already be in sympathy. If the first time or two they do stay a while to worship Aphrodite, ’tis only a day or two lost, and the intense pleasure they obtain only leads them again to the mysteries of Hermes, their souls more attuned to the great search. Once they have pierced the veil they will not look back. This rite may be used as the greatest of magics if it be done with both partners firmly fixing their minds on the object and not thinking of sex at all. That is, you must so firmly fix your mind on your object that sex and all else are naught.”

Ritual sex described in 1953, controversial, but perhaps helping to explain the mass of publicity Gardner and Wicca attracted in the media of the time. For, no doubt about it, it was the Great Rite, the powerful magical rite of sexual intercourse, paying homage to the male / female polarity that exists in all things, which attracted the more salacious tabloid press to Gardner and his ideas. For Gardner the Great Rite was performed with the whole coven watching. He also enjoyed ritual “scourging” as part of the rite (a practice now mainly out of favour with modern followers of Wicca). In recounting these acts, the media titillated and shocked their readership (especially of a Sunday morning) and made Gardner somewhat notorious.

It was from Gardner’s personal interests in nudism and voyeuristic sex acts that the idea of ritual nudity in the craft, or going “skyclad” was invented. He may have been manipulative, deceitful, and not above the fabrication of evidence to support his claims, but whatever his flaws and foibles Gardner deserves respect and credit for what he started. The religion he helped launch and shape has evolved for beyond what he is likely to have foreseen.

Privately Printed Books…

October 5, 2015


Whipping my body…

June 21, 2015


And she had me walk over here at the base of the cross and she said, “Now strip your clothes off.” And I took my clothes off down to my waistline. Then she made me drape my body over the foot of that cross and she pulled my hands underneath and bound them to my feet. That’s where I’m going to spill my blood. She had not told me how, and neither could I ask how I would spill it. She gave two little nuns that came with her, a flagellation whip. I might call it a bamboo pole. It’s about this long, it’s about that big around, and it has six straps on it about this long. On the end of either (each) of those straps there’s a crossed piece of sharp metal. And those little nuns, each was given one of those whips and they stood on either side of the cross. At the same time those girls began whipping my body. And I mean when that metal hit my body it would break the hide of course. It would cut into the flesh and I spilled blood. It was running down to the floor. That’s my flagellation whipping. That is where I spill my blood as Jesus did upon Calvary. And of course I’m human, it wounded, it hurt! It was very painful.

The personal testimony of Sister Charlotte, ex Roman Catholic Nun, February, 1947, about her experience of convent life.


April 25, 2015


I’m told Miss Edwards was
a lovely teacher. A pity, then,
I don’t remember her.
I do remember Hanna,
who had a whippy little cane,
and Mr Phillips,
who thrashed the biggest boys with obvious glee,
and Snowball,
who spanked our bums
orgasmically. But
Miss Edwards? No.
Perhaps she didn’t have a cane at all,
but only a pale, flat ruler
she crossed our palms with, daintily.
Or maybe not even that.

Herbert Williams