November 11, 2000
"T"
I'm sure it's wrong of me to fantasize about a married
woman. Of course, I'd never act on it, but I'm sure it's still wrong. I say that
I'd never act on it as thought she was just waiting for the chance, but she'd
never give me the time of day. I think that's part of why she excites me.
I work with T. She's tall and gorgeous. Aloof, which always turns me on. Smart.
Dresses like a rich, sorority girl. Very fashionable. That turns me on too. I
like a woman who, in my mind, is too good for me.
Like most of my fantasies, those I have of T are of power exchange. Being a
captive or a slave. I imagine being her prisoner. Locked away in a cell she's
put together for me in her basement. Most of the time I'm alone. She's not going
to waste her time on me. I just stand there, strapped tightly with my back
against a rough wooden post. I'm nude, of course, and gagged. Straps at my
ankles, knees, waist, chest and throat. Straps hold my wrists to the sides of
the post. I stand ramrod straight 24/7. It amuses T for me to suffer. I'm kept
in complete darkness, of course. Why waste light and power on me?
Suddenly, she's there. A silhouette in the doorway first and then approaching
me. She's smoking a cigar. That's a turn on of mine also. Not a big, fat one.
I'm not that phallic. Just an average-sized cigar. I used to be turned on by
dark cigarettes in holders, but it's been cigars lately. Anyway, she comes over
to me. Looks me up and down. Talks to me in a very patronizing way. Asks if I
like my accommodations and laughs. I can't answer, of course Gagged, remember?
She blows smoke in my face. It's such a wonderfully dismissive gesture. She
tells me she might feed me tomorrow if she finds time. Visions of table scraps
begin to make my mouth water. That's the best I'm likely to get. With a final
puff of smoke in my face she tells me that she's going out for the evening.
She'll probably wear the new outfit she bought with one of my credit cards.
With that she leaves, closing and locking the door behind her. I return to the
darkness.
Just so no one thinks I'm a complete nut or perv or anything like that. I
probably wouldn't really enjoy it if anything like this happened to me.
Well, that's not entirely true. I'd probably LOVE it if it was playacting and I
knew that it would end at some point. If it was real it would scare the &*(&#
out of me. Still, it's just a fantasy that happens to work for me. I've heard
that some women fantasize of making love to a mysterious man they don't know.
That doesn't mean they'd actually do it, right? Or that they'd really enjoy it
if it did happen to them. Same with me.