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| MY SECRET LIFE Published with author's permission. Name withheld at author's request. It’s 2 AM on a cold Sunday morning. “My Secret Life” by Leonard Cohen drifts out of the speakers. I sense the irony of the moment. I am not sure how to title this. Is it my fantasy or my confession? I guess it is a bit of both. We all carry secret desires, things we never tell another. I guess I always looked at this as my secret treasure chest. All little boys have a secret treasure. Most of the time, it‘s just an old Buster Brown box, that their last pair of Sunday shoes came in that they hide under their beds. A couple of their neatest Matchbox cars, a marble they picked up in the street and a favorite comic book. I had two treasure caches. The one I hid under my bed in that shoebox. The other was the one I had hidden in my head. I had dreams of being a cowboy, an astronaut or Superman when I was five, but I can remember another set of dreams that made feel weird and excited at the same time. I thought they were so weird, I have never mentioned it to anybody until now. Mentally, I filed all of these related dreams under one subheading. It changed in setting and the pretty faces that filled it. The plot never changed. These girls would creep into my room at night. I would wake up and they would spray me with sleeping gas. They kidnapped me and would take me to their secret headquarters (I guess in those days, I must have thought all pretty girls would have secret headquarters). Once there, I would do things for them. At that point in the dream, the whole thing got pretty hazy. Ah well, the dreams of an innocent five years old boy aren’t meant to have heavy erotic content. All I knew is I liked my dreams and cherished them in my secret treasure chest. As I got older and wiser, the dreams became more vivid. I guess it was when I learned what grown-ups did behind doors late at night. Like any other American boy, I liked action/adventure movies, television and books. Yet, I always seemed to linger on images of the hero being overcome by the evil seductress. Samson and Delilah or Batman and Catwoman, it always drew me in. These fantasies never dealt with the woman using brute force (I guess in my childish logic, I reasoned the woman could never overpower the hero in a stand up fight, or maybe they were just a lot smarter). I knew that the hero would overcome the temptress’ charms in the end. I knew if it was me in the hero’s predicament, I wouldn’t (or was that I didn’t want to?). Puberty was an epiphany for me. It was like all of the pieces of the jigsaw fell into place. I suddenly realized why the Queen of the Amazons wanted to hypnotize Hercules. In my mind, she cast her spell over me and led me back to her regal bedroom. She made me undress and I knelt between her legs for hours. All I wanted to do was please her whims. Whether it was massaging her or “performing” for her court, I did it. As Hercules, I was an abject failure, but I was happy in my dreams. Another fact of life I learned, boys lose things. Especially their secret treasures, my grandmother decided to clean up my room one day. Over time, the matchbox cars and the comic books were replaced with Penthouse magazines. Naturally, that was how I lost one cache. The one in my head, I didn’t lose it so much as bury it and forget about it. I guess I would have made a pretty lousy pirate too. Like most young men, sex getting sex became all-consuming goal, my secret fantasies were secondary to just getting between a girl’s damp thighs. This priority worked for me at the time, but my secret treasure sunk deep by the tide and sands on that mental beach with a bunch of other childhood memories. I enjoyed the pursuit and the seduction. There was nothing like charming the pants off a young lady and corrupting her. Yet, there was one time, that the tables turned and I loved it. I had been in the Army for a few years. It seemed like a logical means to an end. It got me out of a small southern town with no future and promised me a chance to go to college. I was less than six months away from finishing my commitment. I had just come off a week’s leave in which I had been accepted to a good school. I made it back to base at 8 PM on a Saturday night and didn’t have to report for duty until Monday. I dropped my bags, took a quick shower, dressed in a fresh set of civvies and headed to my favorite club. In the dark smoky club, I wandered around grinning like the Cheshire Cat. I was filled with smug triumph and a good bit of attitude. I was the player with the winning hand. It’s a feeling that happens so rarely. In short, I was riding the lightning. Over the years, I am always amazed at the things that happen when I am in this state of mind. This event became the standard which all similar situations would be measured against. She just stepped in front of me and broke my stride, as I rounded the bar. “You’re a Gemini, aren’t you?” She asked with not quite a smile but almost a glow. “Uh-yeah…” I fumbled. She had pegged me right away. All of my well-rehearsed scams just became null and void. “My name’s Mike...” “J-------,” she replied. Her dark brown eyes shone brightly. She was small and lithe, not skinny, but she just seemed to exude an earthy vitality with the slinkiness of a cat... We sat and talked. I learned that she was a foreign national working for the French government. She was 32, and I was bewildered. It is like a talented amateur going up a seasoned professional, in well, anything. She knew exactly what I was about to say and amused herself by pulling the rug right out from under my youthful posturing. I did what any sane man would have done. I surrendered. She led me back to her house with her best friend and her boyfriend. We sat and drank for most of the night. Her guests dozed on the couch, as she slid over and embraced me. I am not sure how, but I was soon naked on her living room floor with her riding me. I felt like I was falling and powerless, but in an exhilarating way. I wondered if her friends would wake up and find us doing this, but I did not care. She owned me…. I was with J--------- for three months. It was chaos and magic all at the same time. She could make me do things with just a smile or a glance. I was her puppet. Moments still flash in front of my eyes: Lying on my side on her bed with her legs draped over me while clear Sunday morning light flooded her bedroom or kneeling between her legs in the back of her girlfriend’s car as we were looking for a particular bar on the wrong side of town. All good things end, we parted ways gently on a rainy, foggy Saturday morning in the park. She knew I had to continue on the path I was following to be my own man. She let me go. I can still see her walking away in the cold gray morning light, wishing I was walking with her. The next decade and a half was filled with pursuit and capture. I lusted, I loved, and I married. I became the good husband. I was polite, honest and hard working, yet, in relationships, these things may never be enough. In the end, it just didn’t work out. I was free again. I dated sporadically. When I let it became sexual, it was never satisfying. It was as if I had lost something important deep inside of me. Alone and bored one night, I stumbled across a chat room called “Erotic Hypnosis.” Intrigued, I lurked in the background and watched the conversation roll by. By chance, I clicked upon one of the profiles, Lady Julia. This story began to take on a life of its own. Clicking on her website triggered a voice sample of her silvery laughter and her saying, “I caught you peeking…” I was hooked. I downloaded her MP3, Red Silk and burned a CD. I did not know what to expect. Later that night, I turned out the lights in my bedroom and lay down on the bed. The CD started to spin. A sensuous whisper told me it was okay to relax and I did. She filled my mind with visions of a dancing red scarf that teased and bound me at the same time. I felt myself falling deeper and deeper into this vision. All the while, listening to this sultry voice telling me how much I wanted to give in. The intensity rushed through my body and suddenly was gone. I wanted more. I was distracted the entire day at work. I wanted to make this more intense for me. Over the years, I had worked with mediation through martial arts and creative visualization. In a moment of inspiration, I know what I needed to do. I needed a ritual. That night, I rushed home from work. The wheels in my head spinning frantically. I changed into my sweats and pushed my nightly run the hardest I had in years. It was part of the magic. Exhausted, I staggered back to my home. The endorphin rush was already kicking in. I peeled out of my sweat suit and took a long hot shower. Naked and shaking from the exertion, I went to my darkened bedroom and lit two candles and lay down one more time. I fell under her spell immediately. She owned me. I moaned at her command and writhed under her imaginary red scarf. I was lost under her gentle ministrations. In the end, I realized I had rediscovered my buried treasure chest, lost these many years. It was wrapped in red silk. Thank you, Lady Julia. |
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