From my previous post, you can see that I have "achieved" my latter goal (I am not happy with the past tense, because it is, I hope, still an active process) and I have also enjoyed a wider circle of acquaintances who have provided companionship as well as a mirror. Regarding the former goal, I feel that I have lifted the fog on some of my demons, and as my sweetheart might phrase it: I no longer want to kill my demons; I just wish to make them happy.
He asked me the question recently around whether I might have outgrown my captions. Perhaps I phrased that poorly. It is more that captioning no longer poses enough of a challenge for me. I fear that he might be right. However, now comes Ayesha, informing me (much to my surprise) that I have turned a corner, and am finally heading in the right direction. What is a captioner... sorry, what is a writer to do?
I think about the small-b bimbos in all their boobified glory, and conclude: this is the nightmare. Helpless, submissive and dumb. It is the woman-child, or at least my masculine conception of her. Does she still turn me on? Being trapped in a shell with an outlandish exterior than is so degrading yet impossible to overcome. The twisted reflection of the rationale male: calm, confident and in control. It is no accident that most of my recent captioned have involved "dominant" men.
I still want the boobies and the latex. What I really want, as Ayesha so accurately describes, is to walk into a room and have all eyes turn on me. Male, female, gay and straight, to be swept off their feet by my radiant feminine charm. Back when I was still dressing, I never became an airheaded tart. When I donned my tight skirts and floor length dresses, I became a creature of elegance and desire. Still, a part of me persisted that I had to be slavish and demur... but why?
I set on a mission to reach the depths of my fantasy, and maybe I have actually succeeded. Here I am, sitting in the basement, and what... do I continue digging? Let me put that another way: should I keep churning out the same old themes? How many ways are there to skin a cat? I think the prudent thing to do is grab hold of the source and change its stream. The basement is flooded. Let's subvert the flow and take a look at the natural landscape.
The fact that this idea feels so painful to me is more the reason that it is probably the right thing to do. I still plan on captioning, and on turning both myself and all you depraved little perverts on, but it has to be different now. I have to walk a little bit outside of my comfort zone, and... well, I don't want to give it all away (actually, I am very frightened and haven't got a clue).
In any case, while I spend the next few weeks sorting things through, you will be pleased to know that I have a nice li'l backlog of red hot caps burning a hole through my hard drive. I shall be posting them periodically, along with my usual accounts and opinions.
This one has actually being laying about for several months, but I have kept in under wraps for some reason. The woman in the mirror reminds me of Ayesha somehow. Anyway, I have said more than enough… Enjoy!
