When I woke up this morning, I had nothing in my brain besides weird dreams about sex, showers, and very large spiders, along with a somewhat inexplicable irritation with thing2. Not nesesarily in that order or in any way connected lol. SoI was quite happy to find an inkling of something completely unrelated to any of the above in my mind lol.
I used to think of them as something to be kept locked away and never admitted to. Like a hidden shameful little gem that you never admit to having and only wear when no one is looking.
Ironically, I think that it was in being made to admit my fantasies that defined our first big steps into D/s.
Because when someone starts poking around in your mind for all those little gems you hold tight and secret, they have stepped into your inner sanctum. It begins stripping you of those walls that do so well at keeping your hidden self in and others out.
And I suppose that if your fantasies are about Unicorns and rainbows, it's not that difficult to admit them (though hmmm, Unicorns, that's beyond my kind of kink...So maybe that would be rough lol).
For me it's a bit humiliating and quite mortifying to look my husband in the eyes, (what is with the insistence on eye contact at the worst possible moments??) and admit fantasies that run the gambit of dirty from things that would be absolutely awful in real life to those that I now not so secretly, would like to come true.
The ones I would want to come true? Oh those are definitely harder to admit too, even if they are less drastic.
Does he know my deepest darkest fantasies? So far, yes. Fantasies are funny things though no? They tend to evolve with us.
Avoiding admission when he asks is not an option for me. He wants to know and he'll get that knowledge one way or another.
Has he told me his darkest fantasies? Truth be told, I don't know. I think that I do know his favorite one, and my part in it is small--as an unwilling observer so to speak.
He has told me fantasies that shocked the shit out of me but after thought, became something that I could rather easily see myself participating in.
Admission of our darkest fantasies, the thoughts and images we hold to ourselves in the dark, the ones that make us dripping wet with shame, that admission brings us closer.
Because we keep them so close inside ourselves. Hidden safely from the world. Until someone comes in and begins exploring the dark corners, dissecting what makes us tick. Or drip as the case may be.
Sometimes fantasies are the last vestiges of the things we keep as our own. And when we share them, not only are they no longer our personal inner property, they have served up that which we find most shameful and hot, into the hands of another.
So there is wonder about what they will do with those fantasies--will we be judged and condemned? Will they come to fruition? Or will they be accepted and stored away in that personal dungeon created inside our relationship?