Thursday, March 15, 2012

Free Form Fantasy pt. 4: Imagine That

Did I ever tell you about the time I was in the grocery store and saw this beautiful woman in the produce section?  I don't just mean shapely and gorgeous, but a face I just couldn't look away from... until I noticed how she saw me staring, which embarrassed me to no end, so I went about my business and left.

...Except for how I kept seeing her everywhere I went.  Or at least I thought I did, because when I'd do a double-take she was gone.  When I went home, I even imagined I was seeing her there!  Feeling exhausted, I turned in.

Around six in the morning, I woke up from the strangest dream.  The beautiful woman from the grocery store had been in it, asking me questions that I couldn't believe I was answering, telling her all about my special feminine side, the clothes I wore at home when no one was watching, my secret dreams of being a woman and how afraid I was to reveal this side of myself in public.  And suddenly it occurred to me, what I was wearing...

"Good morning!"  Her voice was in my head.  I could "see" her talking to me, as if she was right beside me... wait, no, closer... inside my head!

"That's right, sugar," she purred.  "You didn't have any idea you'd cross synapses with a psychic today, did you?  Absolutely no defenses.  You gave me access to every last little secret, yes you did.  Nice collection of unmentionables you've got there in your closet, by the way.  Mmm-hm, yes, it was fun making you dress yourself in your sleep.  Ohh, shhh, don't you worry, sweetie.  I'm in your head now, dear, and all your dreams are about to come true... whether you want them to or not."

So.... no?  I guess I forgot to mention that.

"Killer legs, magnificent breasts,
AND a built-in penis? What an odd
epiphany... But let's run with it!"
Well, what about the story of when my wife - who's an omnipowerful witch, by the way - suddenly woke up one morning and realized that she was bisexual, and that the only way for her to transcend our current state of marriage was to transform me into her feminine lover?  Hesitant at first, but with the urge to transform me growing stronger with every passing second, she eventually cornered me in the bedroom and snapped her fingers, relieving me of all my body hair.  She ran her hands over me, then grabbed my chest and summoned two perfectly shaped breasts.  My hair suddenly ran twisting and curling down my back and over my shoulders.  We kissed passionately, and my lips bloomed into full, soft pouty pink petals.  I gasped, but couldn't bring myself to make her stop.  She asked me if I enjoyed that, and all that floated from my throat was a dulcet, sensuous yes.

Help. Police. Someone save me.
Yeah, that totally happened, except for she wasn't really into chicks.  Her mother - who's a witch too, incidentally, and totally hates me - cast a spell to make her believe so.  She also cast one on me, which left me unable to protest, refuse, or express discontent in any way, which left us both living out a constant cycle of multifarious, compulsory sexuality.  My former life as the man of the house has given over to clothes shopping, cleaning the house in exotic, ultra-feminine lingerie, having every kind of sex imaginable with my wife at the helm, and enduring my mother-in-law's superior expression whenever she comes by for tea (which I have to serve with a smile) and to see what new outfits we've bought (which I always have to model). 

Nothing familiar? Yes, well, it's very easy to leave out certain details of one's life when they never really happened.  Especially the kinds of details that have no place in normal conversation.  Total thermonuclear limited-by-your-own-imagination fantasy.  The kind where you'd probably melt on the spot if your mother ever learned about them.  (Although, given a mother's intuition, a lot of things about you would suddenly make perfect sense.)

This is the step in fantasy evolution where the crossdreamer says, "Screw it... none of my fantasies are ever going to come true, so I may as well step on the gas and see what trouble I can make for myself!"  It's amazing that it comes to this; in all, it's amazing to me how complicated our fantasies become, when all we really want in the beginning is the freedom to express ourselves by dressing as girls.  By the time we start asking why, the opportunities we've spent so long working for suddenly disappear behind closed doors.  Without release, our tension is too much to bear.  As I mentioned in my previous entry, it's clear that fantasy is a coping mechanism, and sometimes it's all we have.

We can glean pieces of our true nature through the mirror that reflects our fantasies.  For example, the presence of an antagonistic female psychic in my first fantasy implies my desire for someone to know my feminine persona intimately, and her unyielding influence points to the contempt I have for my inhibitions and how I can't truly allow myself to become Holli in any way without placing myself under someone else's authority.  This is from years of testing those locked doors until I found one that opened, then making the best of it.  (I leave it to you to analyze the latter fantasy - why should I have all the fun?)

If there's another step past fantasies as wild as these can be, I wouldn't know.  This is as far as Holli's imagination takes you.  It's not hard to figure out on your own, though.  The heart wants what the heart wants, and it's only a matter of careful self-discovery to understand what's at the core of our desires.


Um... then again, perhaps some mysteries are meant to remain unanswered.

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