| Nov. 20th, 2009 @ 12:57 am (she's an outlaw) |
|---|
I am:  anxious
I HAD A FUCKED UP DREAM LAST NIGHT.
It was so fucking fucked up.
Basically, I met up with this guy in a hotel room for sex. He has medium length hockey hair, dirty blonde. blue eyes. Medium build. dull and mostly merely somewhat attractive.
I know him from work, in the real world. In my dream I also recognized him this way.
For some reason, after I came into the hotel room, he took it upon himself to prove that there were no cameras in there. He even moved the TV to show there was nothing there. But there was, a hole in the entertainment center that housed the TV. It had a wire running from the TV through it and out the back.
I wanted to trust him, so I ignored it.
We briefly made out and fucked for a while, with a fair amount of passion. I came somewhat loudly. Immediately after he was done, he got up. It became apparent that this was not a private situation. He gave me some cash, about 60-80 bucks, out of a wad of it that was sitting on the dresser. Then he saw the look on my face and his guilt took the reins, forcing him to give hand me another $200 (assuming this was his cut of it.) What was left was a 50 which was supposed to be left there for the maid.
I seem to remember something about a sealed envelope as well...
Then he leaves and Im just standing there with this money that I dont want curled up in a ball in my hands. I am in shock. I realized we've been recorded. The sound from my moaning is no longer static and left in time, its going to be out there for the world to exploit in whatever way they see fit. For men to cum to when they are looking at 2d imagery of girls in excessive amounts of lace and leather, bound and gagged. Perhaps, I fear, even men with rape fantasies. I am disgusted. I feel helpless and the notion almost overtakes me completely until I feel myself grasping for something, anything, to snap me out of it.
I begin frantically searching around the hotel room. I was looking for proof that it was all some kind of sick fucking joke, no sound recording, god forbid a video. I was hoping I wouldn't find anything. But I knew something was odd about that hole in the entertainment center and I immediately move the TV out of the way. I find a the wire and hope its nothing... Im wrong about all of this, I'm sure of it. But it leads me to a jack on the wall and I rip it out, out of utter frustration and humiliation. There is nothing I can do. its all been captured and I'm a caged animal.
Then I start to consider the notion that the TV is conspicuously placed. The dream ends with the realization that I've been secretly filmed and recorded via some 1984 George Orwell man-in-the-tv shit.
I wake up and ponder the psychological relevance and try to avoid feeling like a whore while thanking the power that be, that it was all just a dream. |
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