corner time

I continue to have dreams about being put in my own little designated corner– a specific meeting of two walls that was deemed to be my spot for punishment, for humiliation, for thinking, that was specially picked for my nose to be pressed to. I’m not sure what it is– in normal, everyday, day-to-day life I can’t stand isolation. Being lonely and ignored sends me into an spiral of self-destruction. However, when the idea is presented in a different sense, I can’t help but finding myself dripping at the prospect.

Imagine for me, if you will, a girl. She’s fairly slight, small-breasted, and pink-lipped. Her cotton panties (which are her only adornment, but seem like much too much anyhow) are pulled down halfway between her bottom and her knees, clinging snugly to her thighs. Fair hands are tied behind her back, fingers curled and resting in the furrow of her bottom. The girl is flushed deeply with a delicious rouge. Two walls converge in front of her warm face, her nose just inches from their meeting place.
“You know better,” comes from behind her. “You’re to stay here until I feel that you’ve learned your lesson.”
The girl squirms, shifting her weight from one straight leg to the other, while the other bent inward with the mass of her embarrassment at her position. He leaves her there for what seems like forever; she can feel the time passing, sense the shadows sliding, growing, deepening around her. When, finally, she felt as though she can stand no longer for fear of collapsing and would be driven crazy by the lack of sounds that she heard that were of his making, he returns, coming silently behind her. He takes her by her bound wrists, leads her to whatever piece of furniture is closest to them, forces her torso down and uses her. Tears slide down her face– but not of resentment or hate, no– at his touching of her. She is being forgiven for her sins, used for his pleasure, being fulfilled in the most core sense that she could be fulfilled in. She is reminded of the fact that she is owned. When all is through, he gathers her up in an embrace and reminds her of his love for her as she cries her thanks.

That is my fantasy. It’s been entertaining itself in my head for a long time now, and I’ve been wondering if it’ll ever happen for me. I hope so, I really do.

I’ve been discovering that I desire things that I’d never expected myself to desire before. Intense things that frighten me, and that I know are an impossibility in my current situation. I’m not sure how to feel about them, exactly.

Not just yet.

~ by daddyslittlegirll on October 17, 2010.