caught

there are two types of fantasies i incorporate.

type 1: things that actually happen, things i replay in my head. things that could actually happen. people i know, have seen, have touched me or used me.

type 2: plotlines. sometimes from stories i've read, sometimes horrifying conglomerations of images i've seen. inevitably they are impossible, due to the characters involved, or the setting, or the fact that i'd probably be permanently injured or die somehow if it actually happened.

used to be, the people in both types were foggy - their faces blurred, and there was the stand-in generic "scary man", or "dominant woman". sometimes i could pinpoint the color of their hair. or how tall they were.

my owner now has the starring role in pretty much all of them. it's been a long time since a fantasy i had did not involve him personally in some way. mostly, i think, his eyes. pale blue, they pin me down like a butterfly under glass. i can't escape it, and most of my fantasies involve his eyes watching me somehow. he witnesses who i am far deeper than anyone has, and it's not always a pleasant feeling. more than his rules, his expectations, or even his hands, his eyes hold me locked down. inescapable.