His powerful fingers, years of experiences, absolute control, were enough for me. Not him. He didn’t let me go for hours. The idea was to render me incapable of easily walking away.
Control goes so much further than flesh.
Popcorn fare indeed.
As someone who travels through the layers of the mind — both of patrons and my own — this visual journey of the ethereal was surprisingly real. I think like this. I dream like this.
Layers naturally form when I surrender. They are the breadcrumb trail back through the forest. The further down I go, the more likely it is the breadcrumbs disappear. The longer I remain, the only “kick” to bring me to surface comes from an outside power far, far away. The guide on the journey has to be extraordinarily experienced. Someone who knows their way through the layers.
Lesser journeys are light dreams, suitable for shallow sleepers or catnaps. I like to dream deeply, vividly, disoriented upon waking.
Wondering why I’m particular? This is why.
Though my online footprint in this realm is minute, I supposed I should be flattered by those who find my ideas, wording and concepts worthy of imitation. A trend-setter among the demimonde. Not a difficult achievement, really.
and the zip-tie marks remain on my right wrist, a faded brown.