I do have a very romantic view of sex, immature I think it would be correct to call it. I am who I am and this is not the place to fret about that. I am a hopeless romantic and it is time to accept that.
I am, however, not going to talk about romantic fantasies about all consuming love. No, I will stick to my fantasies about submission and nudity and such things.
Sometimes when I am in the mood I like to transport myself to some fantasy land that is breathtakingly beautiful, full of untouched nature and cities like pearls on the green emerald lands that span the continents between deep blue seas full of mysteries and dangers.
And there I wouldn't mind being a slave, sitting on the marble benches of the terrace of some palace, overlooking the azure waters of the endless sea. Behind me there are mountains that stretch to the sky, with feet covered in lush jungles.
It is not bad being a slave in that palace, the personal property of some princess, perhaps, or a king. I am beautiful, of course, a slender girl with emerald eyes, my long flowing red hair caught by the wind.
I am a slave. My neck is encircled by an unyielding but still delicate iron collar, locked in place, impossible for me to remove. Maybe I am even manacled, new to the palace, still needing to be kept in place.
I sit naked on the marble bench, my sweet body full on display. But it doesn't matter, the wind is smooth and mild and the sun makes it pleasant to be unclad. A slave is kept naked, to show her who she is, so that she knows she is there to please, to be something to look upon, to delight her owners with her looks.
That fantasy is sweet. It is delightful to be that naked girl. The sensation is sensual rather than sexual. A sweet slave may delight with her body and she may have to serve, that is true but the pleasure of being her, is not that of the prospect of intense lovemaking or the passion of pain when whipped. No, this is a relaxed, calm sensation, a sense of being lovely and sweet and knowing that life is not so bad in the soft wind from the sea and below the warming sun in this delightful land.
There is a sense of being safe and secure in being that slave girl. I know my place, I know where I belong. I don't have to decide, don't have to be responsible for anything. I can enjoy being someone who may please, not only with her actions but with her presence, her mere existence.
You know me now, to some extent. There are always mixed feelings in my stories, pleasure and pain, joy and dread. This is not like that. This is all nice. I would like to be that girl and I think it would be sweet to be her. And I know she can only exist in a delightful fantasy like this.
The picture was made by someone who calls himself Grigbertz (yes, I know it is a he).