Emerson Dameron's Medicated Minutes

Sultry Secrets of Pulse-Pounding Passion: A Night of Bite-Sized Erotic Thrillers

Emerson Dameron Season 5 Episode 2

Indulge in an hour of intimate intrigue with Sultry Secrets of Pulse-Pounding Passion: A Night of Bite-Sized Erotic Thrillers, a production of Emerson Dameron’s Medicated Minutes.

Dive into a world where decadent excess meets libertine indulgence, where intense power struggles and philosophical debates heighten the thrill of desire, where you’ll witness the delicate dance of dominance and submission and navigate a world of uninhibited sensuality...

Sultry Secrets of Pulse-Pounding Passion: An Evening of Bite-Sized Erotic Thrillers is a journey into the realms of pleasure, where dark desires are unveiled and erotic frontiers are explored.

Written, performed, and produced by Emerson Dameron, with additional music by Mr. Pancakes.  The line "Oh, I guess I'm into that now," is from my friend Becky Feldman.

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Speaker 1:

Breathe in, breathe out, awareness, rest, circle of life, union of opposites, that big sexy Ouroboros of destiny. You can have it all. Try your Focus and Sleep Starter Kit from Magic Mind at 45% off for listeners to Emerson Dameron's Medicated Minutes if you go to magicmindcom, slash Emerson Jan, e-m-e-r-s-o-n-j-a-n. Focus, sleep, repeat Magic Mind proud sponsor of LA's number one avant-garde personal development program. Emerson Dameron's Medicated Minutes already in progress. Minutes already in progress.

Speaker 1:

I ended up giving in and hooking up with her when I needed something to galvanize me to break up with the woman I was seeing, an extremely left-brained Somali. The relationship was, from the beginning, turbulent and extremely manipulative. I could tell she was angling for a relationship, a possibility I was careful to not commit to but also not foreclose on. The sparks and friction from the relationship made me a lot sexier. I had myriad side pieces during that time.

Speaker 1:

She was very good at positioning herself as the prize, triangulating with mutual acquaintances, particularly her ex-boyfriend, a cartoonishly morbid bartender who liked to be seen reading Halal back on the clock. She tried to control me through sex, sussing out my kinks and then holding them against me, or inviting moments of vulnerability and then exploiting them. Through that process I learned to play my cards very close to my chest and hide my feelings. That made it very hard for me to effectively flirt. It sapped me of my mojo, the sexual gravy train ground to a halt and by that time, for whatever reason, I actually wanted to make things work with her. It ended well. It's one of my few relationships that has At the exact same moment, after brunch at an Ethiopian place while we were waiting to pick up the check we reflected and realized we were utterly disgusted with one another.

Speaker 1:

This is Emerson Dameron's Medicated Minutes, la's number one avant-garde personal development program, medicated-minutescom here at first on K-Chung, los Angeles, kchungradioorg. I am Emerson Dameron, the host, producer, writer, witty and wounded romantic hero. Tonight we have a special treat, a Valentine's Day treat. Treat because love is in the air and the water supply, sex strokes pumping through our bloodstreams, ardent passion in our hearts and loins, sometimes both, sometimes one or the other, and sometimes it's all in our minds. And we're going to celebrate tonight with a night of bite-sized erotic thrillers. Some of them have companion videos. If you dig this stuff and you want to dig into it, you can follow me on YouTube or Instagram at Emerson Dameron. Meanwhile, a night of bite-sized erotic thrillers, a special presentation of Emerson Dameron's Medicated Minutes and Kate Shum Take it and like it, take it and like it.

Speaker 1:

Allison was starting to have trouble distinguishing her dream life from her real life, and she didn't mind At first. It was easy, because her dream life was intensely vivid, full of deep red and purple and unfamiliar landscapes, uncharted territory, rugged terrain. The relief maps were such bliss to run her fingertips over and the sex was utterly off the chain. Out of this world she could try everything she always wanted to, and sometimes she thought, okay, that was interesting, I can cross that off the list. And she could also try things that the dream characters were into. And sometimes her reaction would be okay, that was interesting, I can put that on the list and then cross it off immediately. But other times she would think, oh, I guess I'm into that now. This was distinguished easily from her waking life, which is full of disappointment, perpetual frustration and odd obsessions.

Speaker 1:

Allison was capable of hyper-focusing, getting deeply obsessed with something, but she couldn't decide when that was going to happen or what it was going to be. She cycled through odd obsessions the Arizona Cardinals, the 1992 US presidential election box fans, dong shots she collected those for chat rooms strictly academic interests than anything else. None of it really satisfied. She always felt as though she was missing out on life and her dreams were where the action was. So she got good at dream incubation. She studied lucid dreaming and practiced it. She was able to get invested in this until she got distracted at dream incubation. She studied lucid dreaming and practiced it. She was able to get invested in this Until she got distracted by a new obsession with Blue James or blueberry morning cereal, or why there's a demand for blue food. But it did work. Her dreams got more vivid, more intense, and she was able to occasionally make requests. When she ran into an interesting dream character, she would ask them Do you have a gift for me? Many times they would.

Speaker 1:

Her favorite dream character was Bo-Hai, the man with the blurry face and the intense presence to make up for it. Bo-hai's gift was ravishing her sexually and stimulating her with brilliant banter and his big idea. Along with his strong presence, bo-hai was serious intellectual. It didn't stop him from being playful, as if he understood that big ideas were of no service to him unless he could get out of his own way and act on things that he deeply knew to be true on an unconsciously competent level. Deep in his bones, his DNA, perhaps past lives, who knows? Bohai thought that he did. That was part of his philosophy.

Speaker 1:

Allison became obsessed. She read any book that was in this constellation of material, and she brought the ideas and the passionate intensity of the dreams into the real world. Her fleeting encounters were generally frustrating because they didn't quote-unquote go anywhere. She came to realize that each fleeting hello in an elevator, every bit of chit-chat with a bodega clerk was magical. It's what life was all about.

Speaker 1:

She got very good at transitioning from these encounters into hookups. She never missed her birth control and she used protection when she thought it into hookups. She never missed her birth control and she used protection when she thought it might be necessary. She took some risks. That were furtive acts like a sacred and beautiful back alley blowjob behind a dive bar where her jealous ex-boyfriend worked, or screwing under a security camera. She didn't want to be seen by anyone who might not want to be exposed to this, but anyone who's watching security camera. She didn't want to be seen by anyone who might not want to be exposed to this, but anyone who's watching security camera footage is already a known pervert, why not put on a show?

Speaker 1:

She'd never been an exhibitionist before, but she was beginning to realize that she needed to own her power, embrace her desires and manifest her power, and not just in the dreams but real life. And she was informed by discussions with Ohai fate, choice, the nature of desire.

Speaker 2:

If I could choose what to want, I'd want something easy to get.

Speaker 3:

We both know attraction isn't a choice, allison, and there's a reason why you're not wired that way.

Speaker 2:

But you choose whether to act on attraction and how, how hard, how smooth. That feels true to me.

Speaker 3:

Truth is a false goal. Power is real. You can feel that.

Speaker 2:

I feel something. Maybe it's power.

Speaker 3:

The truth you're looking for is in your instincts and desires. You can choose to get out of your own way and into yours. You're full of non sequiturs, alison, and I'm starting to get into it Together.

Speaker 1:

They explored forbidden pleasures. Alison had always had a yin for sleaze that was elegant. In an eccentric way she got in touch with her hidden dreams, her very earliest untrammeled desires, and the dreams heretofore felt too close to home to deeply examine.

Speaker 2:

I don't feel great about that desire. What if I discover some of my other desires instead?

Speaker 3:

Desire is fate. If you want to really live, which I know you do, alison you have to love it all. You can do it. It's all really quite lovable, alison.

Speaker 1:

Somehow I feel you would know Bohai as the dreams and life merged into a dream life for Allison. Bohai always seemed to be holding something back. It was in character for a man with a blurry face. Allison loved the blurry face. It wasn't the same thing as being faceless. It reminded her of her teenage crush on Che Guevara. But sometimes Bohai's high status flexing would put her on edge, and he did seem to be a man of many secrets. As time went on and their intimacy intensified, it seemed like he wanted to tell her something.

Speaker 3:

I have a confession to make to you, Allison. This goes deeper than I'd initially told you.

Speaker 2:

Ever deeper. Eureka, that's my true desire now's not the time, allison that's why it's hot. Oh hi, are you too smart to be hot?

Speaker 1:

she'd asked him before. Is this a thought experiment? Surely that's what's going on here?

Speaker 3:

this is reality life goes in cycles in a literal sense. Reality, life goes in cycles In a literal sense. So we can fix this next time. No, not with that attitude.

Speaker 1:

This is our big chance to make it look sexy Bohai told Allison that the reason he was reviewing this now is the urgency of it. There was a group, the League of Nietzsche Understanders, who knew about this phenomenon and had a means of harnessing it for the nefarious end of enslavement.

Speaker 3:

They think they can control the whole thing.

Speaker 2:

They can't even control themselves.

Speaker 3:

You know these people.

Speaker 2:

I know the type. Do you have a type? Now you're the one getting distracted, and who can these days control themselves?

Speaker 3:

I mean, they want to use it to afflict, immiserate and enslave, To rule through resentment.

Speaker 2:

That's fine with consenting adults.

Speaker 3:

They feed on ignorance. They have no meaningful quest for realization. They bicker too much amongst themselves so they think they won the world on a hamster wheel.

Speaker 1:

Alison and Bohai went to battle with the League of Nietzschean Understanders. It required Alison to overcome some of her age-old shame, including her aversion to public speaking. She found herself in a position where she could rally an army to fight the Nietzsche understanders, but that meant being ostentatious, obnoxious or bad when did that come from.

Speaker 1:

Allison and Bohai began to fashion their own morality, which came to great use as they did battle with the League of Nietzsche Understanders, these monsters, these zombies who wanted to keep their fellow travelers under their boot heels. They wouldn't be fellow travelers anymore. They would be left behind. They would be subverting the quest for self-realization of others In the eternal recurrence. Life is a perpetual struggle, as it should be. If it weren't, it would be meaningless. That was our hedge against nihilism. Allison had often found herself sucked into nihilism. The poll got even stronger as she fought the Nietzschean standards. She didn't understand what's the endgame here? How does this work out? The nature of the battle is thus it's an infinite game. You fight monsters without becoming one, and as soon as she figured that out, immediately she and Pohai brainstormed a means of humiliating the Nietzschean understanders, making them look ridiculous and trapping them in a web of resentment which sapped their power and neutralized them, and gave Allison and Bo-Hai a chance to seize control of the eternal recurrence.

Speaker 1:

They would have turned it over to God if God existed anymore, and maybe this was a thought experiment that Nietzsche intended to substitute for God, who he famously conspired to murder it was going to take time to decide what to do with this, and Allison and Bohai resolved to use every second to the fullest, embrace their darkest, most galvanizing, most perverted desires and have the wildest sex with their life as a means of coming to terms with the eternal recurrence and living their desires to the fullest. My definition of success is doing what I want when I want, with whom I want. Most importantly, how I want. What I want is to develop my philosophy and play my accordion how I want to do. It is brilliantly. That requires getting out of my own way, which is truly the work of a lifetime. Playing the accordion isn't as easy as it looks. You have to learn standards before you learn jazz, and even when I play popular favorites I tend to get hassled. I don't see the problem. Accordion music is not a public menace. They're not bagpipes. Developing my philosophy takes a lot of mental energy, so I try not to waste valuable resources by thinking too much, which is great.

Speaker 1:

Unlike most people, I don't freak out when I'm about to get what I want. I usually don't even realize it. I'm able to fall ass-backwards into amazing situations like dating two very sexy, very different women. There's Ava flash and excess wealthy heiress, shows me the good life, I find out that it suits me. I like the smell of money. I don't have to work. Ava allows me to work. She insists on paying for everything and kind of holds it over my head but says I can make it up to her by sleeping with her friends. Sometimes we do three ways. I'm sure there are women who aren't into women, but those women are mysterious to me. How could you not be into women? Have you seen women, ava's into women? Even if women aren't into women, they're into Ava, sometimes with sex toys or household objects. The sex is bananas. Ava puts a lot of pressure on me to do whatever her friends want, and that's fine. I hate making decisions. It's particularly hard to decide between Ava and Clover.

Speaker 1:

Clover is sexy as hell. She's fun. She's pure positive energy. The sex is really good because that's what she channels her genius into. In her real life she's not that smart. She'll remind you of that constantly. Often in those words, her other catchphrase is no thoughts, just vibes. Clover is bubbly vivacious. She's a great influence. We have great sex. It's like dancing One partner leads and the other leads, and you don't know who's leading. You just know what to do. It's just happening. She's told me that she might be falling in love with me. She doesn't know. She'll have to think about it a bit longer. I would love to fall in love with Clover. She's exactly the sort of person I love to spend time with and I'm comfortable with her in a way that I'm not comfortable with Ava.

Speaker 1:

There's a mysterious layer of weirdness there that I can't quite articulate what it is, and I think it might just be my insecurities, so I haven't brought it up. And I love money, I love being rich. I never thought it would happen. It mainly happens to people who are born into money and something in me knows that I don't belong in this world of glamour and really good cocaine, seemingly overpriced alcohol and insane sex from people who are used to getting everything they want, to the point where what they want is completely perverse. Forget about memetic desire. They're bored to death of the things that they used to want. What I eventually discover is something that seems really obvious, now that I know I'm a charming rogue and a pimp at heart. I think I was a player in a past life, but I'm getting played in this one and I'm getting pimped out by Ava. I really should have figured that out earlier.

Speaker 1:

I'm in pretty deep now. I don't know who to trust. My philosophy is falling apart, but contingencies are not connecting like they used to. I don't know which way is up, and I'm so dizzy from all of this crazy sex that it doesn't really matter. There's no past, no future. I've always been doing this. I always will be doing this. I don't want to do this anymore. I don't like this. It doesn't feel good. I don't know anything anymore, but I am learning that I know too much. I've committed a lot of crimes and I didn't know what I was doing. But nobody's going to believe me when I tell them that I'm really freaking out, and Clover can feel it. She's highly intuitive, and sex is where people hide things. We have a lot of sex. She's gonna pick up on it. Eventually.

Speaker 1:

I get tired of lying. It happens around the time that my fabric of lies unravels and I'm fully exposed. Clover says I get points for honesty. She's mad as hell that she's not gonna leave, although she could, and it creates the first bad vibes that we've experienced. Well, that's not true. We had a couple of spats and then had a really rough sex. We briefly hated each other and so we were able to bang like we hated each other, which, if you never tried it, find someone you hate and have sex with them, or start hating someone you're having sex with. You really don't want to miss out on this. It creates a lot of conflict and confusion and angst. Clover tells me that it particularly gets to her. It makes her really, really mad that I was willing to commit crimes for Ava and in in short order, I'm committing crimes for Clover, pretty much whatever she wants. She could hold this over my head. She could rat me out to the FBI if she wanted to.

Speaker 1:

I have a lot of weird experiences that I'm not ready to talk about and I experience something weird, deeply uncomfortable, terrifying Personal growth. It's not easy, but I'm learning to be myself. I'm learning to be into myself. I wish I knew this back when I wasn't extremely paranoid and unwilling to trust anyone, because I really shouldn't. I have a lot of exposure and I'm feeling really jittery right now. Most people are incredibly selfish, cynical, will stab you in the back for fun and despise weakness in others and punish it. They're awful. I'm not into intimacy anymore. I wish I were, because I'm deeply in love with Clover now, and I'm starting to get so paranoid that I'm oblivious to the fact that Clover is a double agent for another dimension. She's using me to turn people against each other, which is what you want to do before you come in and conquer them. I don't know when that's going to happen. They have a lot of information. I'm not optimistic about the next five years, and I've found that closure doesn't really exist.

Speaker 1:

But human nature does Nothing happens by itself. You're free to choose your own destiny, especially if you don't think you are. The fact that you're thinking about it at all means that you know that you are. You are free. You have no idea how powerful and sexy you are, and if you're a man who wants to be kept. I'm still on speaking terms with Ava. It's still an open wound. I have a lot of resentment. We don't really hang out, but we text about stuff that only the two of us care about, and she lets me know when she has openings. Hit me up.

Speaker 2:

It's not you it really is her.

Speaker 1:

She digs your action. She cares for you very deeply. You're feeling neglected because she's easily distracted. She dates multiple partners and has trouble keeping track of them. She doesn't really know where one relationship ends and the other begins. It seems to vary from person to person. She has a lot of other things going on. She schedules things concurrently and ends up flaking out a lot. It's because of the laws of physics Some things are true and some things are not permitted.

Speaker 1:

I fell in love with her, which was not what either of us wanted and turned out to be a bad idea for both of us. She was in love with me too. She just didn't really have time to pursue it. She is absolutely fascinated with Skyrim, the video game. She'll talk about it for hours. If you get her on that subject, you'll have her rapt attention. She'll feel like you're sharing a secret which she finds overwhelmingly attractive.

Speaker 1:

Seriously, the sex I had that was like nothing I've ever dared fantasize about. We always hung out in crowded bars and we communicated by screaming at each other, and when I mentioned Skyrim she usually thought I was asking for a rim job and sent me a call and play link. I wouldn't say she's checked out. She's checked in a lot of different places at once. You're a great guy, but not too great to be hot. You can't compete with multipulsing.

Speaker 1:

I was feeling lonely, desensitized, dislocated, metaphorically and literally as well. I'd moved to a small town which I will not identify. It wasn't in the middle of nowhere, it was closer to the edges of nowhere. I didn't know anyone, and that was good. I've said in the past that I get into very intense relationships because I'm bad at picking up signals and that I like love-bombing because it's one of the only ways to get through to me. Unfortunately, that's kidding on the square, meaning telling a joke. That is also a statement of fact. It was not long before all of my relationships have been dangerously intense. Yes, I realize that I am the common denominator in these. It's my problem. I'm working on myself, and by working on myself I mean I'm practicing yoga so that eventually I can perform autofillatio and then I will be happier than I ever imagined possible. I'm not quite there yet. I didn't get there in time to avoid running into Kelly at a local bar and I looked in her eyes and I told her that she had beautiful eyes and she looked deeply back into mine and made an off-colored. That was the beginning of an explosive relationship.

Speaker 1:

Metaphorically and literally, the love bombing commenced immediately. I received daily text messages. When I didn't respond, they became more and more frantic. I received art objects under the windshield wiper of my car. I was basically kidnapped several times and taken to a local truck stop in the middle of the night Kelly's Hangout where we consumed trucker speed and drank coffee, which only escalated the intensity of our relationship. The sex was indescribable, violently passionate. We were the best lovers and haters we'd ever had. It was quite insane. The whole thing was quite insane and it became too much. It became too intense. My avoidant behaviors kicked in. I distanced myself, which led to love bombing in the literal sense.

Speaker 1:

Bombs began to go off in and around my domicile near my workplace in other parts of the city that my routines would have predicted that I would have been in, but that I'd been thoughtful enough to avoid. I recall the line from the late rapper, the notorious BIG what's beef? Beef is when you make your enemies start your jeep. This occurred to me one morning when I was on my way to work and I was about to get in my Honda Civic On the way out of my home I ran into one of my neighbors who was walking his ferret. That alone would make most people the most fascinating person in the world, but this guy was so obsequious and eager to please that even I found it disgusting. On an impulse I asked him to get in my Honda Civic and turn the keys and fire it up because he wanted to be my friend. So bad, because he wanted to impress me or anyone so badly. He complied. The car exploded, starting a car fire that consumed five other vehicles. It was obviously Kelly's handiwork.

Speaker 1:

She was a bomber by nature, from a long line of bombers. She created literal bombs as well as metaphorical bombs. She wrote and produced one-act plays that were all about me that were not particularly flattering or extremely flattering. When things were going well and the sex was the bomb, all of the plays bombed. When we broke up, I was subject to bombs. When we had makeup sex, it was the bomb. All of the place bombed.

Speaker 1:

When we broke up, I was subject to bombs. When we had makeup sex, it was the bomb. When we had breakup sex, it was the bomb. Then we broke up again and the bombs went off. Most of them did go off. A few of them were diffused by the local bomb squad, which consisted of one person, bomb Squad Julie.

Speaker 1:

Again, this was a small town. Julie wore her hair in a buzz cut and was all business somewhat gruff. She didn't seem to like me very much at first, which was kind of a relief after all this. But we got to know each other very well, including details of our lives. She got to know the most embarrassing detail of my life, which was my on-again-off-again relationship with a woman who was in the habit of trying to blow me up and often accidentally blowing up people close to me.

Speaker 1:

I was learning not to care about anyone because as soon as I invested in a friendship or tried to start an escape pod relationship, I would lose that person in a bombing almost inevitably. You could set your watch by it or a timer on a bomb Bomb squad. Julie got to know all about this, much as I was teaching myself to be desensitized. She was of a cynical bent and we bonded over that. And one day after she was done diffusing a bomb, she wiped the sweat from her brow and took off her glasses. I looked directly into her eyes, piercing green eyes. I said you have the most beautiful eyes I've ever seen. You have eclipsed the woman that's been trying to blow me up, the previous record holder for beautiful eyes, and now I'm not interested in her anymore. I'm interested in you, the new queen of eyes.

Speaker 1:

We had incredible sex at that point. Green eyes are associated with a high tolerance for pain. It was so good that we did not hear the airplane. We didn't notice the falling bombs. The explosions were of a piece. With the explosive sex that we were having, I provided her with cascading orgasms. I came inside of her because why not? We're all going to be dead within a few minutes. And in the afterglow we embraced each other, we embraced our fates, we embraced the end of the world. We sang what a wonderful world. And all of our problems were solved. The first thing I noticed was she looks damn cute when she's confused. She showed up alone, looked around and eventually joined a group. I don't drink. That's something I wasn't good at. What I've gotten better at is hanging out. I can hang out in bars. I can show up early, drink ginger ale. I can be curious, patient present.

Speaker 3:

If I hang out long enough all kinds of things will happen.

Speaker 1:

One of them is sex. When I first tried out, I hated hanging out in bars, but this is a place where women come to be swept off their feet. Yes, she loves dancing, music, watery, domestic. She also loves sex. She'd have a lot more of it if you didn't keep making it weird for her. She doesn't want to work for it and she doesn't want to see you work for it. Like a graphic designer or a creator deity, your game has to be so tight she can't see you running it.

Speaker 1:

I invited myself to sit down with the group. Any initial awkwardness dissolved pretty much immediately in the potent haze of my sparkling repartee. I steered the conversation towards sex, framing it as not a big deal. It's not something to get uptight about. It's not something to get excited about. It's something that grown-ups do for pleasure, for catharsis. There's not something to get excited about. It's something that grown-ups do for pleasure, for catharsis. There's nothing better to do, which often there isn't. I wanted to convey that this is not a one-night stand. We are going to be having sex tonight.

Speaker 1:

I telegraphed a lack of callousness by charming and befriending everyone else in the group and generally giving the impression that we were now friendly acquaintances, if not friends, and she could definitely expect to see me again after the night wrapped up, as we were both increasingly anticipating it would. I gave it a lot of time. I let her talk about herself. It wasn't a job interview, but I sussed out logistics. How did you get here In a car by herself? When do you have to get up? Tomorrow I have the day off. I'm having such a great time with you. I don't want the night to end, but could you give me a ride home? Could you come upstairs? Push, pull, get sexual physical, then pull back, get curious again. Make her feel special, because she is special.

Speaker 3:

Who isn't?

Speaker 1:

these days we have great sex. She wants to sleep over, which is cool. We text back and forth the next day confirming that we both had a great time. We haven't seen each other since. We've talked about it Logistics in LA. She seems to have a boyfriend, so I assume we're cool, she's on my good side. I assume I'm on her good side. If I ceased to be on her good side I wouldn't know, unless she blocked me on everything and I might not notice that for a while.

Speaker 1:

We're not close. I wouldn't say we're friends. I guess that depends on the fluctuating exchange rate in my life for the term friend. Our hero is Catherine, catherine, with an A in the middle instead of an E. She's dry, cynical, stylish, competent and loyal. Her friend is Genevieve, who is flirtatious and vivacious and extroverted and emotionally unstable. In the opening scene we are in a penthouse suite and Genevieve is freaking out in a penthouse suite and Genevieve is freaking out. Catherine is trying to talk her down as Genevieve is threatening suicide and waving a gun around. And Catherine tries a few things to try to de-escalate the situation and after she runs out of ideas she tries to physically disarm Genevieve. And as she's doing that, the gun accidentally goes off, just as Genevieve's boyfriend enters the room and he's a gangster and now he's hit and he's bleeding out on the floor. Catherine calls 911, but now they're going to have cops and gangsters after them. So they do the only thing they can, which is to hit the road and go on the lam, where they survive by Catherine's wits. And when that doesn't work, they do threesomes and it turns out that they can get out of all sorts of scrapes by orchestrating threesomes. Genevieve is the one who's actually into threesomes. But Catherine is the one who does all the work of arranging them, and these scenes are exceptionally well choreographed. There's nothing gratuitous about them, it is pure character building.

Speaker 1:

What we learn about Catherine through these scenes, just as expressed through sort of interpretive dance, is that her outer need is to save her friend, but her inner need is to free her own soul and find out who she is. And she doesn't have much time because the clock is ticking. They're being trailed by a very cerebral Mulder and Scully duo of detectives. They're arch nemeses because the detectives are both asexual. Eventually, catherine and Genevieve run into Bill, who's a rich older guy, dominates Genevieve in a kink scene and when he does this it gives her an orgasm which gives her focus and mental clarity which she's never had before. She was always scatterbrained and unpredictable and now she can focus. And this allows them to outwit the detectives and escape on Bill's yacht. But before they get into international waters they see police boats and helicopters overhead and they figure the game is up. They have to tell Bill what's going on. But what they don't know is that Bill is also a gangster himself and is at a much higher level. He has now the FBI and Interpol and an international consortium of mafias closing in on him. And Genevieve and Catherine are hiding below deck. It's been a few hours since Genevieve had one of her Adderall orgasms and she's freaking out and she threatens suicide again. And Catherine has had it and comes up with a plan. They escape by faking their own deaths. In the final scene we see the two of them in a shoebox efficiency apartment and we hear a married couple next door yelling at each other in Russian through the wall. Genevieve and Catherine are in a double bed together in fetal position, facing away from each other in opposite directions, and between them is a life-size body pillow.

Speaker 1:

I'm haunted by my past and I'm starting to like it. Hanging threads from my history have come to tie me down, tie me up. Saffron, my greatest friend, my inconsistent but highly enthusiastic lover, my pen pal of many years, until her untimely death, suicide by disappearance. She has come back in a sense. She is now present.

Speaker 1:

In her absence, I feel her presence seeps into every area of my life and as one part of one's life encroaches into other areas, that can mean that one has a problem. Every fascination is a bit of an obsession. So is every addiction. It can be very hard to tell the difference, as it depends on where you think it's going and I don't know. Because Saffron has returned. We communicate through signs, symbols, metaphors, ambiance, poetry and paradox. She is present in her absence. She has returned with secrets Heavy ones, dark, dangerous ones, explosive ones. She's handed me a live grenade that I have a raging heart on. I've never been this erotically charged up. I've never been this embodied, this enthusiastic, I've never felt so free, I've never been as somatically and erotically charged up. I can feel lightning coming out of my fingertips. I can hear fallen power lines snapping at night, as I hear the sounds of the trains that are both soothing and mournful and heartfelt, but also nearly vacant, like these memories from the past.

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My therapists don't get it. They say I need to get out of the past, I need to get in the present. Past tripping, future tripping. My thoughts are not the truth. I don't know if these are my thoughts. They're intuitions, they're intuitive perceptions, they are readings, they're revelations so thoroughly haunted. I need to find someone who gets it. I do.

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I think the literal madman on the edge of town. He's been gradually forced out there. He makes people uncomfortable Not everyone. Some people who run out of options go to find this man, not in the middle of nowhere, but on the outskirts of nowhere, where he has an office and a strip mall, where everything else in the strip mall has been abandoned. Next door to him there is something that looks like maybe it was an art gallery or a yoga studio at some point. It's been abandoned. Next door to him there is something that looks like maybe it was an art gallery or a yoga studio at some point. It's been a long time since it was used for either of those things and it's very run down. He'll sound you out, he'll listen. At least it feels that way. He'll make you feel special. He definitely used my name over and over again, and repeating my name over and over again is an excellent vocal exercise.

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I noticed that when I meet actors they enjoy doing it. This guy was not an actor. If he was, he was beyond Nicolas Cage on the visionary front. I don't think he was. I think he was truly a visionary and he saw me and he saw the signs and symbols and old Windows 95 screensavers and MIDI synthesizer music and pastels and computer animation that I was so thoroughly haunted by. And he understood my relationship with Saffron. We no longer communicated in language. It didn't matter what color she dyed her hair this time or what wisecrack she had to make when she realized I was learning the same lesson yet again. We were beyond that. We were communicating in some sort of code that I understood intuitively but not actively, not in such a way that I could explain it or teach it or really make sense of it or escape from it. I couldn't make maps or figure out strategies to make sense of this thing. It was beyond names and forms and time and space. It combined pleasure and peril.

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The madman shaman on the edge of town suggested that I smoke the venom of Bufo alvarius, the Colorado River toad which sweeps 10 months out of the year and the other months is sometimes harvested for its venom, which in some causes wild hallucinations, but in others there are no visuals, there's no auditory element, everything is white. You, the person whose name is on your driver's license, the person with the social security number, and the childhood attachment wounds and your addictions and the torches that you still carry for your old flames, all of that just is gone. It's extinguished. It never was. It's thoroughly meaningless, absurd, laughable, but it wouldn't be you laughing and people wouldn't be laughing at or with you, because you don't exist. And that's refreshing. I highly recommend it.

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I kind of wish that I hadn't come back. I don't think I did come all the way back, because things in some ways suddenly made sense. It's like I went sane. The apparitions, the intuitions to which I was giving ammunition as they were coming to fruition. Those things got even crazier, just objectively, because I was making more sense out of things. I was now trying to make sense of something fundamentally nonsensical, that was challenging. That was a new thing for me.

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I was growing up, I was becoming an uber-something, a little bit minch, a little bit monster. Both. It's always both. It's always pleasure and peril. It's always risk and reward and ennui and angst. Repetition is torture. It is also so soothing and reassuring, and paradox is poetry. But it's challenging to rest in paradox. You're desperate for answers that aren't necessarily available. When we open to all of these experiences at once, it can only be described as sexual ecstasy. It can be a purely cerebral experience, because your whole body is a brain and you understand that Living in this complexity, this fractal absurdity, this embarrassment of riches, can be so exciting. After I had the kind of orgasm I thought was only available to women and then had five more of them that day Keep in mind I'm a severely, chronically depressed 45-year-old man I was killing it. I was experiencing all of the pleasure that had just been backed up in my system. Ah, it was such a relief, so exhilarating and cathartic.

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And I think I crossed some kind of threshold, because then I began to be haunted by past projections of the future. I was seeing that time is an illusion. It can be convenient. It's also limiting. I got to the point where I could handle the true weirdness of things and look into the abyss, see how abyssy it is and jump and realize the bad news is there's no parachute. The good news is there's no ground, as Chugim Trumpa Rinpoche said. And the past projections of the future were revealing hopes, the anxieties, sublimated, libidinal force of the past, of the collective that created them, that was now displaced, lost in the ether and was haunting the very technology that we used, through which we perceive things, through which we define ourselves and try to make sense of the ultimately nonsensical. And this led to a confrontation, a showdown in queer time, which is not exactly what it sounds like, but it does include that it is the time that you experience. When you comprehend the time as you previously experienced it as an illusion.

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I took a few L's, but then I started taking double U's. I would say I was putting wins on the board. I would say that the work on myself such as that person was, is, has ever been, was paying off. It really didn't have anything to do with me, it was just kind of happening because I was letting it happen by embracing and experiencing and thus harnessing the force of the triumph of my own desires and allowing the triumph of my desires to happen. And as I let go of my need for control, desires ceased to be my masters and became my faithful servants that served me beyond what I ever could have possibly anticipated, expected or desired or had the imagination to ask for, and I had a passionate relationship with something ineffable. I don't know if it was the infinite. I wouldn't say that it was, because there's a certain kind of unknowable perfection about the truly infinite and we were doing really rough deconstruction. I was pounding it out, getting it on, inflicting pain, loving it. I was living up to my responsibility and others' expectations of me, but that didn't even matter, because what mattered was the sheer joy of taking the ineffable, putting it in a headlock, beating its ass wrong. That I discovered. That was where it was at for me, and the ineffable liked it even more than I did. If you've ever been in proximity to the ineffable and it has a shattering, cascading orgasm, you'll know what I'm talking about. Otherwise perhaps you won't. I'd been to the Grand Canyon. The Grand Canyon is just a ditch in the ground compared to this experience.

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After that I couldn't really come home. I'd been told by my former therapist that I could always come back. The shaman at least had the self-immolating candor to let me know that he would see me on the other side, but that I would be fundamentally transformed in ways that were unpredictable. I found that I was able to juggle the sublime and the abject. I was able to release my resistance, brace the transitory nature, the fluidity, the flux, the flow of everything. I kind of went a little nuts after that, and it was cool. Everything changed and it was chill.

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Our shared hobby was people watching. We would go out, sit at the bar and make up stories about all of the characters that we saw, their relationships with each other, their peccadillos and their dark secrets Speculative gossip, you might call it. Then we would try to let each other win at pool, which would drag the game out for hours, go to her place or my place, and all the tension would cause an explosion of chemistry. We also had good fighting. Banter, as long as we didn't touch on ourselves. Each other were our budding relationship. We both sensed that the less we knew, the hotter the sex was going to be.

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One early early morning, after I'd stayed over at her place and was on my way out the door to work, I said I know your secret. It was a joke. She went into a panic. What do you know about me? She demanded. I asked how do you know when you are really truly deeply in love? She screamed at me. A lot of it was insulting, but it was so high school level, comparing me negatively to one of her friends who has better tastes in pop-up museums. It was too weird to take personally. She broke down in tears and I gathered the rest of my belongings, knowing that we weren't going to see each other again on purpose.

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The. Against the dazzling backdrop, the decadent and enigmatic city, fiona found herself in a fit of pique. She found herself because normally she felt a little lost. She practiced an introversion that she didn't really believe in. She's a very serious person, but she could get fired up. She could get very into her body and her heart when she was at a protest and this one meant something to her.

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This was an artist who was putting on an exhibition high profile, I'm not going to say who it is for legal reasons, but you know who I'm talking about. Notorious for mistreating employees and worse stuff than that, but has never been caught. Has layers of protection in the public relations racket which is also Fiona's employer. She's very good at it. She values her job enough to not cross the lines that can't be crossed, but she can protest as long as she's wearing a mask. I mentioned the decadence of the city. That's actually on the way out, sort of. There was a long period of decadence and now order is being re-established. It's making the Dionysian to Apollonian conversion, but the Apollonians are fighting over who gets to make the rules.

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As Fiona was protesting, she was approached by a very intense, intimidating, very articulate and charming and surprisingly down-to-earth individual. He gave her his hypothesis that there's not much you can do. Her morality and the artist's morality are fundamentally different and he understands hers and until she understands his, he's playing with a stacked deck. She was angry at first and argued back, mostly to defend her own ideas, but got curious about his as well. He invited Fiona to a salon going down the next evening. She had no idea what to expect but felt compelled to dress up a little bit mysteriously, a lot of black. She brought an eye mask just in case, just had a weird feeling about this. A good feeling, but off the map of good feelings that she was used to having.

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When Fiona arrived, she was obviously out of place and so, immediately briefed on the background and purpose of the organization, it was devoted to discussions like the one that she'd had before with the guy who ended up being its leader, quetzalcoatl or Quetz. To friends and associates, its members debated the merits of this morality and that morality, with the goal of raising up the victims of this morality to understand and ultimately conquer that morality. There were some activities associated with this Serious orgies there were some activities associated with this. Serious orgies. Serious orgies Intense, deeply erotic, less intense than they had been, it was explained before the former organizer was kicked out for not sharing the news of his herpes diagnosis. Its activities were transgressive, anarchic, but yet always with a subtext, a purpose, a message, a meaning that was sometimes a little heavy-handed, but even at its most subtle was there for the gleaning.

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If you read the background material, the most interesting thing to Fiona was the organization's pursuit of slaughtering deities. It already killed one, and the rest of them were marked. Getting rid of the gods was necessary to re-scramble morality and put everyone back at ground zero, where they could rebuild something more useful. Fiona immediately signed up for the god-slaughtering committee. It was something she had some experience with in PR as she engaged in heavy petting with a fallen angel, one of the deities that was three down on the hit list. She thought I'm gonna like it here. And then someone walked through the door and Fiona's next thought was who is that? That was Bianca. Nobody told Fiona but she figured it out very quickly.

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Bianca was the most talked about member of the organization. It was interesting how these people managed to thread those needles in very steady hands and were also possessed of presence and patience and passion, as she discovered, and she entered a torrid affair with Bianca. Bianca was able to soothe Fiona's anger, which allowed her to act out some of her deeper passions. But she discovered pretty soon that the gentler the more sensual, the slower the burn of the sex, the more violent her orgasms were. It was inversely proportionate. You could draw it on a graphing calculator, which Fiona did. That was one of her hobbies.

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Her affair with Bianca combined with her immersion in the group and active fascination with its ideas. She was very good at doing research. She could decide what to get obsessed with and research the hell out of it and have well-informed opinions and be a post-collegiate level expert with no effort. It didn't seem to impress Bianca very much. Bianca was a creature of the passions which was confusing to Fiona.

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But Fiona was learning and doing a lot of new things. These discussions and orgies and spectacular, smoking-hot car alarm-activating hookups with Bianca were changing her entire moral framework. She was changing as a person herself and her righteous indignation that she applied to her distraction from the jealousy that was beginning to arise in her relationship with Bianca by throwing herself into the god assassination project. She was doing well. The process was complicated. It involved some higher level math, but once she figured it out she found it was pretty easy. She took out a few deities without breaking a sweat. She thought this would impress Bianca. But when she showed up at Bianca's work to deliver the news, another bartender was filling in. They swapped shifts. Bianca had a cuddling session she couldn't miss as Fiona became an expert on deity assassination. She also accumulated shelves full of books on dealing with jealousy and polyamorous relationships.

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This was her first wild relationship, or really wild experience. She kept herself very buttoned up and gone through a bad divorce where she was lied to and badly betrayed and left traumatized. She didn't want to go through that again. She didn't think that's the kind of thing Bianca would do on purpose. But Fiona was rethinking a lot of things After Bianca flaked on one of her coffee and bagels with hummus dates with Fiona not the first time either. They had a little spat. It wasn't the first one. They'd come back stronger from the last few. The hate sex quickly turned into make-up sex and it was mind-blowing as not adequate, but I've got a loss for a better word. This time was different. They started to distance themselves from each other, or rather Bianca started to distance herself from Fiona and Fiona pretended to distance herself from Bianca so she would feel better, but in reality became more preoccupied in an increasingly limerent and destructive fashion.

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The God Assassination Project had taken an interesting turn, fiona thought while I'm at it. The problem with these gods is they have too much power. I could use that on clients of ours that have too much power. I could use some of these same mechanisms to say plant a false rumor Easily debunked. But by the time they have a chance to do that, other people with incriminating, or at least reputationally compromising, information on these clients will have come out of the woodwork. The thing will take on a momentum of its own, because these are just bad people. It shouldn't be this hard to bring down. And my new skill set. I don't know if I could live with myself if I did nothing and I've got nothing else going on. Bianca's nowhere to be found. I go to all our usual places. She's not there. I've listened to Nothing Compares to you over and over again and it's not doing anything for me. I can't feel anything anymore.

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As Fiona was spreadsheeting out her plan for bringing down a certain music mogul we all know she felt someone looking over her shoulder. She turned around. It was Katz. He wasn't happy. You can't combine nihilism and resentment. They cancel each other out. They're both poison. Fiona said they can also be medicinal in small doses. You said that yourself. Katz replied that requires some reflection and self-awareness, fiona said you said that yourself.

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Ketz replied that requires some reflection and self-awareness, fiona said. You said I should always be taking action. Moving in the wrong direction was better than sitting still. I didn't mean that kind of action, ketz said. And it's not up to me, you'll find out if you keep doing this. This is fair warning. Fiona said I enjoy nihilism and resentment and we're creating our own moralities. Ketz said you can have one at most for a limited time, but you can't have both. They began to have very passionate sex, as they often did in their more animated arguments Not P&V intercourse, way, way beyond that. You don't even know. Think of the most erotic thing or think of your own personal peak experience. That's better. It goes deeper.

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Put yourself there in that experience and you can enhance it with fantasy, but just enjoy it, get into the sensuality of it. You're there, you're feeling it, it's happening, you're making it happen. It's a dance. You don't know who's leading. It's just so connected and embodied and at the same time just filthy and raw and everything you want, and realize that what Fiona and Ketz were doing was exponentially hotter than that. As she reached orgasm, fiona began to convulsively cry. She couldn't figure out what was wrong and Ketz couldn't help. He didn't think anything was wrong. She was expressing her passion. It's totally in line with the purpose of all this. Supplementing the passions is what keeps most people down. Fiona said really. Ketz said yes, you didn't know that. Fiona said you kept it as an open loop. Ketz said oh, that's right, I wanted to keep you coming back. I, like you, I'm glad you're my friend, love you in my own way.

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Fiona realized she couldn't combine resentment and nihilism. They were contradictory. She didn't want either of them, she definitely couldn't have both, and she couldn't have Bianca either. She collapsed into tears. Everything was changing again and this time she really didn't know what was next. Nothing felt guaranteed, nothing felt solid, no right angles anywhere. She was exhausted. She was so tired she couldn't imagine ever untiring herself. No amount of recuperation would make any difference. How was she going to create a new morality feeling like this? Fiona had said it's okay to express your feelings. How many times have I told you this? Nietzsche was into that. It's one thing. The anarchist pervert Bataille seems to have gotten wrong about him. Fiona looked confused.

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It turned out the whole thing was a book club. They were just discussing the philosophy of Friedrich Nietzsche and its application on building the new system moral order that was going to govern the city. The deity assassination project was an interesting parlor trick. The rumors that Fiona had planted about the clients of her PR firm were real. It caused real problems. Families and reputations were destroyed.

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After one suicide that was tied back to Fiona. She was fired and found herself unemployable in her industry or anywhere. She was fired and found herself unemployable in her industry or anywhere. She was applying for jobs at Trader Joe's and getting turned down, maybe just because of her sour disposition. She had a lot of resentment to work through. She felt like she'd been betrayed. Although she realized that Bianca never owed her anything. There was no reasonable expectation that this thing was quote-unquote. Going somewhere Fiona had a lot of work to do on herself. Ketz was able to get her a job running a Nietzsche-themed addiction recovery center in Arizona. It was a small town that actually turned out to be pretty happening. A lot of refugees from Phoenix and even LA were setting up their outdoor art exhibits there.

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Fiona made herself at home. She found that the old resentments and frustrations and boiling ambient righteous indignation that she carried around before were what was making it hard for her to connect to people. And when she defenestrated those things she thought it was much easier and many new avenues of pleasure opened up. She didn't have to seek out aggressively, she just naturally turned toward them like a flower turns toward the sun. It was remarkable Just by living her life she was starting to heal and connect and thrive. There was time enough to create a new morality that balanced her newfound love of freedom with a strong sense of ethics. Fiona had always been a frustrated artist and she found that in fact her ideal artistic vehicle turned out to be sex. She was very good at this point.

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Emerson Dameron's Medicated Minutes is LA's number one avant-garde personal development program. Medicated-minutescom Episodes premiere first Wednesdays of the month, 7 o'clock pm on K-Chung, los Angeles, 1630 am K-Chung Radioorg. I am Emerson Dameron, the writer, producer, host at all for Emerson Dameron's Medicated Minutes. I love you personally. Levity saves lives, I'd say fully half our conversations were about sex Detailed, passionate, analytical. Never about sex with each other, not even after we started banging. We did constantly and with gusto, and had orgasms that made our heads explode and our brains splattered all over the insides of the bulletproof protective bubbles we lived in.

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That metaphor jumped the tracks, but you know what I'm saying. She talked about her previous conquests like she was playing fantasy football. My job was setting up new ways for her to seduce me masterclassing, not caring. I got good at playing hard to get. I developed a sophisticated catch and release program for my feelings. Eventually, the game of chicken got exhausting.

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That metaphor died too, didn't it? On a date to a public execution. I mentioned that I'd recently enjoyed a night of murder mystery dinner theater Unforgivable moment of weakness. Didn't talk for months after that. We're on good terms now. She helped me lean into my strengths. I got in some good practice playing it cool, which ultimately made me cooler. We have mad respect for each other and the sad truth of it is that ultimately limits how deep you can go in a purely sexual relationship. At first I thought this was seriously a setup. She seemed really into it. Then I thought maybe she loved taking my. She seemed really into it. And then I thought maybe she loved taking my discipline and also was using sex for power. I don't know if that blew my mind, but it blew something.

Speaker 2:

Steamy, dreamy and way too hot for radio. Crimson Transgressions, a bite-sized erotic thriller by Emerson Dameron. Find it before it finds you.

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