sometimes i have this sense that my past lives have me corseted.
that my heaving breasts are being stared at or lusted for, that i am on my knees on a dirt floor with a worn hem and bare feet, and that whatever proper bottom garments i was supposed to be wearing are heaped in a dusty corner somewhere. I can imagine myself sitting on a stool, the sun is streaming in, i pause to steep myself in it, strands of my disheveled hair are glistening. it feels delicious and warm. i know this scene somehow. that i have been in it many a time.
i don’t know my corset history well enough to know which time period i am laced up in, i just know that a swell of breast excites me, and that periods of time where woman are adorned in layers of clothing that accentuate the breasts fascinate me and give me a sense of deja vu.
in my very real past there is a man who hurt me in a large way. details are too private. while I don’t have the ability to bring someone harm, nor do i ever act in a get even sort of way. there are thoughts that i have had about this one person that wish something terrible for him. these vengeful thoughts have showed up in a dream that repeats itself. the violent dream has me feel that the subconsciousness of it will find its way. karmic justice. that evil gets its due.
the thing is, i was not the only one who he violated, as a matter of fact he took from way too many. a man with no boundaries. don’t get me started on the injustice of it all.
the dream is set in a village. the narrow streets are of mud from days of rain. this day is sunny, fluffy white cloud blue sky bright. it’s hot. there is a crowd of sweaty, very dirty, exaggerated full breasted woman. working class woman. thousands of them. they are gathering with a purpose. there is a platform, there are buckets of tar, feathers, and there is a leader. she has a large knife. She is shouting a call to action, spit is splaying, nostrils are flaring. the knife in her close fisted hand above her head is glistening in the sunlight. the filthy crowd parts and the man is being pushed down main street toward the platform. the woman are spitting on him, pulling his hair out, grabbing at the rags he is wearing until he is naked. something about the dream had this part playing over and over, breasts are again larger than they should be, sometimes fast, sometimes slow. his face shows horror. he is erect. in the dream i am an observer, part of the crowd. i hear the leader shout how dare you have an erection. and i feel myself shout along …how dare you. how dare you. how dare you. A group of woman grab and carry him over their shoulders – their breasts are now exposed, bare and swinging, he’s erect, everyone is sweaty and really angry. the crowd roars as he is tied to the poles on the platform. he is screaming. fighting the tension of the ropes. first the tar, one bucket pour, another follows. the view shifts to above the platform, it seems small – there is this nude erect male with hoards of large breasted woman surrounding the platform and ranting – the feathers follow, feathers all over him, sticking to him, covering him, feathers flying – he’s still erect. the leader walks through the crowd, sun now setting, golden glow covers the entire scene. her fisted hand swings the knife back and forth ….he realizes what is about to happen. he falls to his knees. one woman holds his head of hair pulling his head back, another holds that erect cock and SLICE, she chops it off. Blood sprays – she is covered with is blood – he is screaming. She cuts his throat next. One hears his last gurgling breath. The crowd starts to applaud and cheer. They are jubilant.
it’s just a dream folks.