My world was one of iron bars and hunger. I spent my days crouched in the corner of my enclosed world, less than twelve feet of space to call my own. I could spread out a little bit if I wanted to; I`m small after all. But I don`t want to. I want to huddle as far away from the door of my cage as I can.
I`m not sure who brought me here or why. I don`t remember to be honest. I woke up here. They feed me everyday and I get let out to use the bathroom. At least I`m not starving to death. The people who come to tend to me are always masked. I can`t even tell if they are men or women.
I wonder often where I am. Am I in the same city?
Have I been moved somewhere else? If I were to escape, what would I
find outside of the walls of my imprisonment? I think about shallow
things sometimes, like washing my hair. I would really love to wash my
hair, to take a long hot shower and soap this nightmare away. That
would be lovely. I should instead think about my family and my friends
and whether or not they are worried for me, about whether or not anyone
is looking for me. But I don`t. Not really. It`s too much to think that
way. I would go crazy. Instead I think about happier things. I think
about old TV shows that I have loved and movies that I used to watch.
In my fantasies, and I do fantasize a lot in here, someone always comes
to save me. The door to my cage is ripped open and there standsÂ… well
it changes by the day who it is. Some days it`s Angel, other days it`s
Jack Sparrow, all gold teeth and black eye makeup. Johnny Depp. I think
about him a lot. My mind wanders around a bit and sometimes finds my
way back to him. He has that kind of face, you know? He`s beautiful yet
gives you the feeling that you could actually talk to him, have a
conversation, whether it be about the weather or about why I`m in this
cage. He would listen, I think. He would want to help. In my dreams at
night, we talk a lot. Sometimes do more than talk. I know I`m dirty,
unclean from however long I`ve been in this place, but in my dreams, my
hair is long and shiny, flowing in curly ringlets down my back. I wear
a long dress that cascades around my feet in a pile of silk. He stands
in front of me in a tuxedo and a top hat. I don`t know why he has the
top hat. I don`t ask. But he`s Johnny Depp and can wear a top hat if he
wants. He holds out his hand to me and I take it. He pulls me to him
and we dance. We dance the way people used to dance, the way they still
dance in the movies. There is a waltz playing in the background, I
don`t know where it is coming from. He whirls me around as though I am
light as air, his hand on the small of my back, his other holding my
own hand out to the side. I rest one hand on his shoulder, very
ladylike. I like to think I am a lady in my dream. A Lady and he is my
Lord. That is nice to think. We whirl and twirl and spin, sometimes I
think the dancing will never stop. Most times I don`t want it to. He
smiles down at me as we dance, his brown eyes full of kindness and
love. I look back up at him, returning his smile, wanting him to see
the happiness he has brought me. I hope he knows how I feel inside as
we dance. For some reason, we neither of us speak. So I must tell him
with my eyes, my smile. The waltz slows and becomes something a bit
softer, a bit more romantic. He pulls me a bit closer and our dance
becomes a swaying. We still move to the song but he no longer seems
interested in the melody. Gently rocking back and forth, I lay my head
on his chest. He cannot see my smile, my joy, but I know he can feel it
just as I can hear his heart beating. Slow and steady it beats inside
his chest. The rhythm of it lulls me, I feel sleepy and heavy suddenly.
No longer light as air. The dream changes and I am lying down. I am on
a bed of soft fur, enveloped in a world of plush beauty. There are
curtains around me. I am naked in the bed, the fur caressing my skin.
My dress lies next to the bed on the floor, laid out perfectly as
though it didn`t want to get wrinkled. I wonder at this for a moment,
in my dream state. How did it get there and why so neat? I stop
thinking as the curtains part. Johnny stands there holding two glasses
of wine, red. He wears black drawstring pants, loose on his trim
mannish figure. He wears no shirt. His chest is as beautiful as the
rest of him. Speckled with hair, but, I imagine, soft to the touch. How
would he feel under my fingers, I wonder. He holds out one of the
goblets to me. It feels weighty in my hand as I take it from him. I
watch him over the rim as I sip. He raises his glass to me from the
side of the bed and nods his head, a toast. I wonder what we are toasting
to. I wonder briefly if we are celebrating. I do not know why
celebrating comes to my mind but it does. I feel very much as though I
have something to be extremely happy about, as though I have made some
sort of victory. There is something I don`t want to remember, though,
nagging at the back of my dream. So I stop wondering and drink the
wine. The wine tastes sweet and heady. It makes me tingle all over with
each swallow. I feel it move through my body, hypnotizing my cells and
making me feel so alive. I gesture for him to come to me, to sit on the
bed with me. He does. We lean back together against a plethora of
pillows and I feel lost in comfort. I am warm and feel a little drunk.
I do not seem to care or worry that I am naked. It feels natural and
safe, as much as the dress did when I had it on. We sip our wine, lying
side by side. The curtains are closed again, and we are cut off from
the outside world. I don`t mind. It`s like a little heaven in here, the
two of us together. I let the sensation of the wine roll over my
tongue, savoring it, cherishing it. I lick my lips, knowing how red
they must be now. He watches me as I do this and I see the hunger in
his eyes. He is hungry for me. I set my glass down on the floor beside
the bed. I reach over and run my hand over his chest. It feels as I
thought it would, soft, silky, perfect. I caress him. He closes his
eyes with pleasure at my touch. He leans over me where I lay and kisses
me. His skin touches mine, electricity sparks between us. Our lips meet
and we both taste of the succulent wine. I stop thinking and only words
run through my mind. In no order, just words, feelings. Soft. Sweet.
Tender. Romantic. Beautiful. Him. Please. Touch. Magnificent. Lust.
Passion. Dreamy. Faraway. Wistful. Soul. The kiss. Glorious in its
stirring sensations. My body awakes as though it had been asleep a
thousand years. I`m pulsing with life as he holds me in his arms,
devouring me with his lips and I lose myself to it. His hands stroke
me, my skin, my body. Quivering all over I succumb to his every touch.
He leaves me for a moment, a brief moment that seems forever long, and
comes back to me all bare skin and beautiful nakedness. His hardness
presses against my leg and I welcome it. It is a handsome thing, his
sex. I want to touch it but feel suddenly shy. He kisses my lips, my
neck, lips again. I am breathing heavily, gasping with my desire for
him. Does he feel my desire, I wonder. Does he know how much I want
him? I want to think he does. I want to think that we are that attuned.
He touches me; I feel him everywhere. Johnny. He is mine, if just for
now. His dark hair is silken and long under my fingers. I feel it as he
kisses me. I hold his head to mine, keeping as little space between our
bodies as is possible. He shifts and is on top of me. His weight is
reassuring and arousing at the same time. His body is so solid, so real
to me. I feel him enter me, slowly as though he is afraid he will break
me. I will not break. I move with him. A gentle excruciating rhythm so
beautiful it hurts my heart. The exquisite tenderness is almost more
than I can bear. He is hard inside me, yet I feel so soft. I feel
weightless again, free. Johnny Depp is making love to me. The fur
beneath me embraces my back as he looms over me. I meet his eyes with
mine and we smile at each other, this time our waltz an even more
timeless dance. The music is gone and it is just the two of us, in this
eternal ballet of bodies. I hold him to me, my hands clinging to his
back. I surround him with myself. We are consumed with each other. My
whole being responds to him, to every inch of him. I feel him not just
inside me, but all over me. I know he feels it too. I want for nothing
in this moment. To me, it is complete. My body shudders with orgasm,
one after another. I feel myself convulsing and shaking and my limbs
grow so weary. He kisses me again and again until he climaxes, his
beautiful seed spewing forth into me. He rolls to the side and pulls me
to him, not yet wanting to part. Words cannot
describe my feelings now. We do not speak to each other. He is strong
as he holds me and I feel so safe. Nothing can hurt me now. I slowly
begin to fall asleep and the last thing I see is his face before my
eyes close. I wake with a start and my lover is gone. Johnny has left
me and I am alone. The bars are back, the soft fur gone. The warmth has
deserted me only to be replaced with the harsh coldness of my prison.
There is a plate of food outside of my cage. I must have slept through
my feeding time. I look around, desperate to see something, anything,
outside of this box. There is nothing and no one. Tears slide down my
cheeks as I remember my dream.
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