From the beginning:Safety is for weenies; it isn't a good party unless somebody dies.
Now that we have that out of the way, this is going to be unlike any manual of kink thatyou have ever encountered. We do NOT, EVER, practice, advocate or have anythingto do with that which is safe or sane and consent is strictly there to keep the lawyershappy. With psionics we can get around that. In fact, our goal is going to be:
The abolition of consent in our lifetime!
Ok, now that I have the hairs of those who do not know me or my work or backgroundfalling out, let me explain a few things about myself. For while this book may seemextra-ordinarily radical and revolutionary to those who come from either a conventional(ok, I know it's an oxymoron) BDSM background or the usual sweetness and light anddon't do anything nasty to the neighbors psychic background. I'm not like that. I LIKEscaring the villagers. That is what villagers are for.I have a couple of identities by which I am known. In the psionic/magick world I'm thegreat, wise and evil Uncle Chuckie, the purported father of modern psionics (I'm not! I just wrote the books.), general troublemaker and all-around no-goodnik. My Russianfriends would probably love to dub me a
, but unfortunately I suffer from being over-cultured. Nevertheless, the khooligan part would probably fit. Or asmy wife describes me, I'm just a big, overgrown 8-year-old. Anyway, if you're readingthis book, you probably already know that. In fact you probably have read some of myother books and if you have not, be ashamed! Buy them now!But I am also a "community leader" (Oh, Lucifer! I hate being described that way!) inthe BDSM world. I was a club officer in the old Chicagoland Discussion Group for anumber of years, starting as the, gasp, Librarian (it was a practical joke they wereplaying on me--they wanted to fill my house with bad porn) and then being promoted,by default because no other qualified person wanted the job, to club Secretary, a postthat I held until that group's demise in 1998. And from there I went to being co-runner of the Chicago Slosh because my then girlfriend, who is now Mrs. Chuckie, made themistake of saying that we would take it for a couple of months. More famous last wordswere never spoken, with the possible exception of the time my stepson was going tochange our garbage disposal and said that it would take ten minutes. (Three hourslater and by that time reduced to commenting on the sexual habits of monkeys...)Somewhere along the line about the same time, some of our friends saw us playing atthe old Leather Rose in Chicago and said, "It's the Dagger Dom." Well, I grabbed thatas an AOL screen name and suddenly found that I, who had never used a scene namein my life, and did not believe in them, had a exactly that--Dagger. It wasembarrassing, to say the least.