Vice Rector

The Vice Rector Index

snuffboxfilms@gmail.com (Rupert) — Sat, 08 Oct 2011 20:46:47 PDT

It's incredible to think that The Vice Rector blog began in 2009, furthering where I left off with Fancies and Fuckeries. The posts came in slowly, I had grand ideas for the Alter Id of the Vice Rector. An attempt to burlesque the academic and the erotic. It never quite blended with the verve I was seeking. Partly because the last few years have not been kind to me, and my mind has suffered the slings and arrows of outrageous misfortune. The Vice Rector should have been dark enough, villainous enough and perverse enough to have weathered my own inner tempest, however, the apparent BDSM overtones never quite worked with my own personality and having my mind tossed about in the salad of suffering, the theoretical ambition behind the performance was never to be performed on par. Instead the direction of my perception was far too jumbled for any astuteness to be reached.

There was another Alter Id on the side line, Bogglesworth, who represented 'flights of fancy', indeed both Alter Id were tied into Idios and Koinos - fight and flight - my experience with "fighting" the external world, and my "fleeing" into my internal world. The plight of the depressive. The Vice Rector was never quite matched with my aesthetics of pleasure, and not quite as endearing as Bogglesworth. My loins and heart were never quite there with how I imagined The Vice Rector to be. I wanted to explore the world of the Alter Id, but maybe I am my own Alter Id, a characterisation of my ideas and fancies.

Ambitious, and poorly realised but I had to try. I had to try and escape the awful weekly anguish of my life that spanned not months but years. Perhaps The Vice Rector was a reflection of my depression in the form of my online sexual musings, what would have supposedly been created next after Fuckeries under any other circumstances might have been Bogglesworth, but it was not. It was The Vice Rector, a reaction against the gruelling daily pain, still present in the essence of lust, but tainted with something pungent. A squirt of liquorice. A dab of ammonia. A sprinkle of allspice. A whiff of rice wine. A dash of hyphen.

Concurrently with the Vice Rector, I wrote another blog, one where I could anonymously expel the unfortunately deeply grooved worry lines of my depressive thoughts. I had no reason for it other than to address those thoughts as correspondance with some invisible anxiety. I have since deleted it, as its purpose was crossing with my own needs to wriggle out of my moods. A depressive doesn't want to be depressed, and that is why many turn to humor as escape, the blog I was keeping contained a thin film of humor over mostly unmistakably dreary cynicism.

So where to now? Change is underway in quite a few instances of my existence and therefore change must be experienced here too. Although I have always thought that the said "sex life" is a ridiculous notion, as is "work life", "home life" et cetera. These are all interchangeable aspects of one life, not separate compartments on the one train of existence. My sex is me as my mind is me, as D.H.Lawrence puts it.

Time now requires a prolonged transitional conduit of communication, one that best serves my predicaments and particulars. I thought eagerly about it all and arrived at absolutely no conclusions, so it shall be as it is; transitory and eclectic.

Please explore the tiny index of archives below. Come and visit me at the new blog, The Smut Organ as this will be my next online outlet for pasting my thoughts to the virtual wall. It is still undergoing some construction, I was intending to keep Vice Rector going until the end of the year but circumstances have forced my mind to do otherwise.

About the Alter Id.

Sex as I don't know it.

Smart cock.

Anaglyph cock.

Crafty Cock.

Bawdy Bordello Bonding.

Swing Ring Finger.

Hwyl Mutley.

A small pleasure, a small pain.

snuffboxfilms@gmail.com (Rupert) — Mon, 19 Sep 2011 04:29:41 PDT

Upon climax, tossing my head to one side, my neck delivers a satisfying series of tiny cracks.

Upon climax, I tuck my cock back into my pants, a smidgen of cum seals the tip to the inside when dried, and with one tiny shift of my leg, skin is painfully parted from fabric.

Nearly

snuffboxfilms@gmail.com (Rupert) — Tue, 06 Sep 2011 19:26:54 PDT

From the outside

snuffboxfilms@gmail.com (Rupert) — Fri, 02 Sep 2011 06:17:30 PDT

One meditates so often on the nuances of one's desires. Sexual endeavours can be as creative as any other project. The winding down of the public libido pushes further away the lustful garden of life's rich organism and buries it in a tomb of associative rationalism micro managed by the confused, the muddled, the arrogant, the opinionated and the self trapped in a bureaucratic presidency syndrome. They fear corruption of the soul whilst they themselves are narcissistic and corrupt, needing to control every random note in life's melody, the tune becomes a formula of frigidness that is a canon of censorship. Will they reach a point when their self righteousness eats away at their personality to the degree of merely being conduits of an existential fugue?

The Oglers Garden

snuffboxfilms@gmail.com (Rupert) — Sat, 20 Aug 2011 21:14:11 PDT

The wonderful thing about having a garden that is walled and brimming over with plant life is the privacy of masturbating in the milder weather. Neighbours must actively be spying in order to catch a glimpse of back garden antics such as masturbating under the clouds. My private location only looked upon by Google Earth and the passing of an occasional air craft.

Soon I will be finishing up with the Vice Rector project and moving my aesthetics closer to my sexual interests in another edition to my 'life long' series of sexual awareness. A forthcoming Blog. Unfortunately the Vice Rector, was too much of an ambitious project that needed me to be in the most suitable mind set for. I wasn't. It required an amount of verve which was just impossible under the circumstances of the past few years. I had sorted out the character in costume and some of it in theory, but alas, not in practice.

Searching for the cinematic in amateur porn

snuffboxfilms@gmail.com (Rupert) — Tue, 09 Aug 2011 15:32:42 PDT

Can amateur porn be cinematic. It certainly can. As an avid viewer of amateur pornography and amateur creator myself, there is plenty that can be said for the cinematic quality of amateur pornography. As you will see below, framing, composition et cetera of the mise-en-scène. The first capture is from a video of a couple at first faceless, attending to the camera by ritual of breast play, the man behind the lady rubs himself up against her behind as he quite animately toys with her breasts, exchanging tops, and motioning her bosom for the eyes of the watcher. In this segment of the scene both underwear is kept on, almost fixed, as all attention is focussed on the breasts. Both man and woman are concealed by their faces being hidden out of the frame. Later in this video the woman gives the man oral and her face is in view.

Below is a grab from a series of cum shots, all the same two people, mostly the same point of view capturing. The costume of the woman in each scene changes, the conclusion is always a cum on the arse from penetration except for one scene where through rubbing the cock along the oiled crack of her arse, the man is able to cum. The continuity of movement within the frame is consistent through-out, and the woman's pleasingly fulsome buttocks give the composition an asymmetrical eye-line that is liked by the camera.

Below is a standard cowgirl position that captured slightly on an angle gives depth to the bodies. His legs fanned out with cock sliding between the crevice of her rump, arms crossed over her back, create a well formed temple of flesh that rarely changes through-out the video. It's a construction of orgasm that moves us to the climax of video.

Below, a video shot in black and white, demonstrating a woman reclining on a couch with much of the activity performed from this position. The particular placement of the mans arms, reveals just a peep at her joyous expression through-out. The rhythm is consistent until the end, and establishes itself with he readying herself for this pleasure and he preparing himself for his own. The uniting poise of both man and woman here, display tense buttocks, arching feet, strained spine, open mouth, hunched shoulders, and sagging cushions.

Webcam Strips

snuffboxfilms@gmail.com (Rupert) — Thu, 04 Aug 2011 17:38:43 PDT

The popular Webcam Strip that has been circulating for a year or two now on amateur pornography channels has one element that I want to rectify. The choice of music for the strip. Usually Vocoder hip hop dance beats that throw my mood against the sink of flaccidity like a wet tea-towel.

It makes me want to employ the videography of Vidding to each clip. Edit off the diegetic audio and place onto it another track. Of course it wouldn't be something like La Brosse the secular 16th century French tune, but something alternative to what is being stripped to, perhaps a funky Ian Dury track like Wake up and make love to me, or Grace Jones Warm Leatherette.

Morning masturbations

snuffboxfilms@gmail.com (Rupert) — Mon, 01 Aug 2011 04:34:12 PDT

A rare morning, where I do not feel like masturbating.

* Note* I did actually end up masturbating. The more I thought about not masturbating, the more it occurred to me to have a fiddle with my ... bow.

Tongue

snuffboxfilms@gmail.com (Rupert) — Tue, 26 Jul 2011 04:45:35 PDT

Sex to me is this language I picked up fluently, it is the many dialects that are difficult.

I'm a Tea Pot

snuffboxfilms@gmail.com (Rupert) — Thu, 21 Jul 2011 05:48:06 PDT

Whenever I see men, slightly awkward, swinging their pelvis, and thrusting from behind a woman, with their hand perched on their buttock, arm bent - I just can't get the "I'm a little tea pot" song away from my mind.

Ode to Pisanus Fraxi

snuffboxfilms@gmail.com (Rupert) — Thu, 07 Jul 2011 21:08:42 PDT

Public Parts

snuffboxfilms@gmail.com (Rupert) — Tue, 05 Jul 2011 20:46:20 PDT

A truly remarkable aspect of moving pornography is watching genitals interacting with each other.

Ear and Eye

snuffboxfilms@gmail.com (Rupert) — Mon, 27 Jun 2011 17:48:09 PDT

Of course, what is sometimes amiss, is that the sounds emitted from sexual activity are just as arousing as the sights projected from sexual activity. This is why those who chatter a lot during sex miss out on all the delicate noises and pornography production tends to ignore the speakers attached to people's media machines and what delicate sounds can be projected from it. If one listens intently the sounds made during sex are delicious and intriguing - the creaking of wood, the jangling of a belt, the crumpling plonk of clothing landing on carpet, the pop of a button, the rustling of skin rubbing leg hair, the notation of breath, the sonance of sighs, the plod of bone joints against the mattress, the lapping of moisture, the slap of skin, the trill of respiration, the pattering and flapping of loose fabric.

Strip Chess

snuffboxfilms@gmail.com (Rupert) — Tue, 14 Jun 2011 18:58:31 PDT

Strip Chess has been played conventionally as can be seen here, but I worked out a much more precise way to play it based on Chess notation. Chess written down consists of Rank and File, Rank being all the pieces lined up and File being the journey they make across the board. So, in my game of Strip Chess we break it down like this:

Each piece is represented by a Letter, King is K, Bishop B, Knight is N, Queen is Q and the Pawn has no corresponding letter.

In this game the Pawns represent the smaller items of clothing, accessories; scarfs, jewelry, socks, ties, shoes, hats, gloves et cetera. The larger pieces in rank represent more prominent pieces of clothing, so the King represents underpants, the Queen, pants - skirt - dress. The Rook, bra - singlet. The Knight, shirt. The Bishop, jacket, or any over the clothing items like vests et cetera.

So each Pawn needs to be delegated a corresponding piece of clothing according to the dress of the player. If I move my Socks, Shoes or Scarf Pawn across the board, the notation might look like this sd3. Which means Pawn in row 'd' moves up file to '3' and if takes another Pawn will result in the removal of either Socks, Shoes or Scarf.

A Queen would be represented thus sQc4, and she would be likely to remove your skirt. So, you can play this Chess without any actual Chess boards or pieces. You could play it whilst waiting for a train to arrive, or in the GP waiting room, or even at the park.

Cock Cream continued ...

snuffboxfilms@gmail.com (Rupert) — Sun, 12 Jun 2011 01:48:37 PDT

Back in another Blog reincarnation I had decided that I fancied making Cock Cream, that post can be viewed here, however, that Blog may be invite only at the moment - but have a click and you never know, I may have unfastened it for the benefit of this post. Then again, I may not. It wasn't a particularly enthralling post. Its premise was to do with Cock Cream, a cream that could substitute moisturiser and lubricant to converge into one glorious all purpose masturbatory moisturiser for the sensitive man totem.

Now, that the years have passed, or rather flung, wobbled and cranked on by. That post was Tuesday, October 4th, 2005. I have taught myself the necessary skills of perfumery and lotion making - I am ready to begin on making this wonderful ointment. I wonder what exotic essential oils should go into such a product? Should they be aphrodisiacs? What should the base, middle and top note be? So many delightful experiments to do. I'm already using Glycerol in my lotions as it is a common ingredient in water based lubricants.

The aphrodisiac could either be an active stimulant, as long as its water soluble, or a fragrant stimulant used as a scent. Neroli, Ylang Ylang, Cinnamon? What about active stimulants? Passion Flower, Horny Goat Weed?

I think it is crucial for me to keep in mind during this process that this cock cream is to be used as a masturbatory moisturiser, and not a general sex lubricant.

Bawd of the Rings

snuffboxfilms@gmail.com (Rupert) — Tue, 07 Jun 2011 06:16:37 PDT

It fits now. I'm wearing it on my Index Finger, where once Kings would wear their rings. It represents 'assertion' and if worn on the right Yang hand, it is assertion outwardly to the rest of world. Koinos. After having it resized, I tried it out, a walk, and I passed a woman - whom I had been admiring. She was snugged up in a sort of fashionable Tweed style, a style I quite fancy. As she passed, she smiled at me. Myyy PRECIOUSSS. I carried on my wanderings.

Content Warning

snuffboxfilms@gmail.com (Rupert) — Tue, 24 May 2011 21:07:51 PDT

The blog that you are viewing does contain content only suitable for open-minded adults. In general, the Vice Rector does not review nor does he endorse the content of this or any blog, instead he confirms it. For more information about his content policies, please visit your nearest bordello Terms of Full Service

Note* To not continue it speculates that you either do or do not understand, but does not specify having understood as an essential part of discontinuing your trajectory. If you do not understand you may continue, as only in continuing may you then begin to understand.

Voyage of the Voyeur

snuffboxfilms@gmail.com (Rupert) — Mon, 16 May 2011 22:19:11 PDT

Unlike the sniper, the voyeur does not want to end anything, but like the sniper, the voyeur will wait patiently, still, in silence, for whatever it takes for that glimmer of ecstasy - whether aural or visual, all senses pricked to expose the most minute of detail, a droplet of debauch, a trickle of titillation, a plash of perversity. The voyeur has the mental endurance of a Marathon Runner, the patience of a Surgeon, the concentration of a smelt.

Swing Ring Finger

snuffboxfilms@gmail.com (Rupert) — Mon, 09 May 2011 22:46:26 PDT

A while back, Dalliance Zeit blogged on the idea of having a Swing Ring Finger, and I thought the idea decidedly suitable enough to follow through with. That post was October of 2010, and it has taken all this time with careful consideration and perusing of available resources to finally settle on the design that would speak to me in the perception of the senses of which I am accustomed.

This sterlingly silver ring features an orgy on it. I concluded that an orgy was polyamory and beyond. I figured that it would embrace all the decadence my desires revolve around, and it would signal to others that indeed, not only am I open to sexual dalliances but I'm also actively trading, sailing at least three of the seven sins seeking exotic spices.

I think later on this month, I shall have the opportunity to bless it with a play.

An ideogrammatical notation for masturbation

snuffboxfilms@gmail.com (Rupert) — Mon, 02 May 2011 21:49:47 PDT

μ; <=3 = SEM

The Penis Piper at the Gates of Dawn

snuffboxfilms@gmail.com (Rupert) — Sun, 24 Apr 2011 23:40:07 PDT

Hickory Dickory cock, hark here cums the cock, it jows O(rgasm)'Clock, victory sighs chimed loftily upon the campanile of thighs, each note is born then dies.

The penis is a flageolet of the trouse. Loundering each note with a pish and a pounce, sliddery tunes vibrating in the vug of the vulva, such vulgar jigs that milch from its pipette. Each drip a dance of delight, the penis is an instrument.

Kinky Carnival

snuffboxfilms@gmail.com (Rupert) — Tue, 12 Apr 2011 17:51:28 PDT

Walk about entertainers? It started me thinking on other entertainment activities that could take place at an erotic event of this calibre. Dirty Story Time, a room where dirty short stories are read out loud. Genital Reading, a tent where a mystic reads your genitals. Interpreting the folds and creases in cunts and cocks to reveal the mysteries of one's lust life. Dildo jugglers? What about the House of Horniness? Go for a ride in a bed shaped cart and be aroused by all things naughty and perverse. Be flashed, fondled and infatuated. A carrousel with naked people on all fours, just hop on and go for a spin. So, the possibilities for carnival are endless, and obviously not endlessly exhausted.

Open Telegram to Ama Pornographers

snuffboxfilms@gmail.com (Rupert) — Mon, 04 Apr 2011 19:28:51 PDT

MEN AT THE REAR STOP ENOUGH BOTTOM CHEEK SLAPPING STOP IT IS BECOMING OBSTRUCTIVE STOP VIEWER ATTENTION DISRUPTED STOP SEXUAL NARRATIVE BROKEN WITH SLAP STOP TRY A TWO HAND SQUEEZE OR LOWER BACK CARESS STOP

Confessions of perversity

snuffboxfilms@gmail.com (Rupert) — Mon, 28 Mar 2011 19:08:44 PDT

After having previously cum face to face with Bertrand Russell, from the left side of my desk, I decided next time that upon orgasm, with the jolt that often propels me off my chair, I would launch myself to the right. This would avoid any awkward encounters with 20th century philosophers whilst endorphins and semen charged across my being. I wanked off with steely determination, accompanied by various pixelated pornography buffering bopping bodies and the shunt of grunts on streaming video sites dedicated to the sharing of carnal instruction. Alas, as the orgasm raged its final wankle, and I flung forwards in a fission of misty lust rush, my focussing gaze was firmly fixed on Jean-Jacques Rousseau.

A moments erection

snuffboxfilms@gmail.com (Rupert) — Sat, 19 Mar 2011 18:23:12 PDT

Sitting outside. The gleam of bright daylight, the sheen on the greenery, the slight wind puffing across the visage of the green wending garden, a tipple of blood red Shiraz bobbles in the Bohemian crystal, languid neighbours chatter, vacuum and hose in the nearby distance, a couple on the screen arrange each other for backdoor penetration, and I in thorough strokes wank my cock until cum pops into a ready palm, all glistening in the effulgent afternoon lambency.