Wednesday, 28 March 2007

The Tavern

Fantasies are about painting pictures and sometimes when you do that it almost becomes a story. Here is a picture that not yet has become a story. Perhaps this theme is new for those of you who have read my blog. I made the drawing (had to say that).

Close to the harbour on a crowded but yet narrow street lies a tavern where ale and food is served along with entertainment and the lovely sight of fair women. Rowdy sailors go there and sit side by side with rough men from the mountains. You would find traders and adventurers there, and soldiers and thieves along with slavers and lumberjacks. All sorts of rough and strong and rowdy and brutal men sit on the benches and chairs in the big room of that tavern.

A great fireplace lights the room and its flickering light lends a certain red glow to the square features of the men, the flames reflecting in their hard eyes and glimmering on their steel muscles. This is a hard world of ruthless men and still there are women in the room. Between the tables and among the loud men there hurry the servant girls, small and soft and vulnerable in comparison.

The girls hurry between the men, trying to avoid their eager touch, their strong arms seeking to possess their bodies. They are appropriately and, with this, scantily clad. There is one clad in a thin cloth around her narrow hips, another in a flowing breechcloth and small embroidered waistcoat, yet another wears nothing but a leather thong and nothing more, her young breasts on full display.

The girls move in the room, their soft bodies in sharp contrast to the rough men, their semi exposed bodies accentuating their vulnerability. Their bodies are on display for the pleasure of the guests, their service not only that of bringing ale but also to let the men enjoy the sight of their shapely frames.

The crowd is loud and brutal but in a good mood. They laugh and drink and talk and sing. Suddenly there is a roar as one of the brutes manages to get hold of the thin skirt of one of the girls and rips it off. The girl having to complete her tasks in the nude to the great amusement of the guests. Her naked body only goes to strengthen the sense that this is a man's world, a place for the pleasure of men and the girls are only for entertainment.

In the middle of the room there is an open space. At one side is the fireplace at the other a small dais. Three musicians take their places on that dais and start playing. There is a drum, a flute and a strangely shaped sitar. The noise in the room continues but some of the guests turn their head towards the open space.

Suddenly all eyes are focussed on the open space as a girl enters. She is small, tiny in comparison to the men and all eyes are upon her. She is dressed in a red flowing breechcloth held in place by a golden chain low on her hips. Around her chest is tied a thin red piece of cloth. Besides this she is naked. The music stops and the girl stands still. She is waiting. The whole room is waiting.

The flute begins to play and then the sitar and lastly the drums. The girl begins to dance. She moves her body in soft flowing movements. The men can't take their eyes from her. She is small and looks so young, almost like a child but still there is something about her that makes her look older and wiser than ever a child can be. She is not a child, she is a woman and everyone can see that.

Her dance is beautiful, it is soft and vulnerable. She is both innocent and vulnerable and yet confident and strong. She dances her dreams and desires along with her strength and her softness.

The music gets wilder and the dance more intense. She moves her body to the music, becomes one with it and all the men stare at her in silent devotion. They desire her more than anything but not one of them dares to move risking to break the magic spell. He body exposed but yet covered makes them lust for her but she is not for them to touch, she is beyond them, belonging to another world.

The music stops, the dancing girls hurries from the floor on her bare feet. The men sit in silence. Some of them fighting back tears, knowing that they have seen something that is beyond them, something far more beautiful and lovely than they can ever be, something that is above and far, far away, never to be touched or taken. There is desire and lust and all earthly sensations but they know, as well, that they have been touched by something beyond that, something they will never forget.


Anonymous said...

Dear Janice,

A lovely story, somewhere on the spectrum between fantasy and believable reality. Well done.

I've just read your earlier posts concerning the nature of fantasy, particulary the Clockwork Orange one, and I have to say that I experience the same feelings that it is hard to balance the fact that one feels aroused by some things with the knowledge that one knows them to be totally unacceptable. Where does this leave us? are we deviant? do our bodies belie our fine principles? Certainly we have a dark side to our natures, and whilst we can say "It's just useful fantasy", the slippery slope argument should inform us with concern that our use of fantasy may make us press further into appeasing our darker side, and perhaps dip our toes into turning fantasies into reality.
What do you think ? should we be concerned?

Thanks for the food for thought.


Janice said...

Dear opb,

Thanks for the compliment, I blush and curtsy.

Regarding the dark side of our thoughts, I am not sure. Fantasies scare me sometimes but on the other hand I think most people have a darker side, a cruel and mean side and if that is true, I believe being aware of it doesn't make us more dangerous, rather the opposite. Indulging in it too much and convincing ourselves that fantasies, always, are to be realised then there is a danger, of course. As long as we are able to distinguish our fantasies from our real desires then we should be on the safe side. What do you think?


Anonymous said...

Yes, Janice,

I think that fantasies are rather like many things, they can be pleasant, even useful, but dangerous if used unwisely.
You are right, as long as we can distinguish between fantasy and true desire then we will be fine. I still think the slippery slope would take effect if we ever did start trying to realise them. Maybe that is why people get into the harder areas of BDSM, they start with a fantasy, it becomes a desire, they dip their toes in, and then want more and more. At that point, I suggest there is less ability to pull back, They've seen Paree. Perhaps one's fantasies always stay ahead in the not quite touchable distance, laughing at us, saying "Go on, realise me" AND WE KNOW WE COULD. we've come this far. That is the worrying thing, because where would we stop ? would we be able to?

Sorry, I'm ranting I'll stop.

So, keep your fantasies Janice, enjoy them for what they are, and tell 'em who's boss


Janice said...

Please, go on ranting! I think you are right.

You could say, to repeat something already said, that if you are going to have your head in the clouds then you need to have your feet planted firmly on the ground.


manorlord said...

Such control she has, such power. Does she foresee, does she fear, the day when, as she dashes out the door, rough hands (or smooth) will grab her, lift her up, toss her (oh so easily) over a saddle, gallop (or why not, fly) away. Does she picture (or fear) that secret destination, where she will dance other dances, dances to another's tune of desire, or of control?