And cellphone sales....I was walking through the mall yesterday and as I always do, reading everything, I happened to glance at the title of the book that a woman in a cell phone kiosk was reading. Imagine my surprise, "The Story of O". Interesting choice for a shopping centre kiosk. Passes the time, I guess.
For those of you not in the know, T.S.O.O. was first published in English in 1965. In the story a French photographer is trained to be a sexual slave for her lover, René, who subsequently gives her away to another man who has her branded and pierced and then gives her to his guests at a party. She loves it, it's a supreme expression of love. I guess. Erotica. I guess.
Well, it was certainly hot when I was 9 or 10 and found the book kicking around in someone's closet, my grandmother's probably, she had some pretty interesting stuff in amongst the Harlequin romances, maybe the first time I saw the Marquis de Sade's work? But that's a story for another time.
So the woman at the kiosk. Reading erotica sitting there at her cash register. She's attractive but not really striking. Dressed relatively conservatively. But her choice of reading material gets my mind cranking. What's she thinking, sitting there in the mall reading about whipping, branding, piercing, anal sex? Is she aroused? Disgusted? It's a fairly innocuous cover and if you didn't know what it was about you wouldn't suspect anything but...
And I think about talking to her but this book isn't an invitation, is it? Is it? And really the glutton for punishment thing, it knows no bounds. Boundaries, sure, but how many people do you know who's fetishes grow milder as they get into it? And really, who wants to get it on, S and M wise, with an octogenarian. Better to stick with the Tantric practice and go forward with some dignity. After a while those piercings start to hang....
And for those who are interested, The Story of O was made into a bad movie as well.
