Pammy's private journal:
Saturday, 25 January 1997, amidst the heavy winter rain.
The 'Rapunzel fantasy'.
I'm sitting here in Vicki's fluffy white robe and one of my old-fashioned nightgowns-- it's like a chemise, only flannel. And I am having a glass of wine....
I was online earlier tonight-- out of boredom, really-- and got to talking with a guy whom I've chatted with before about the old-fashioned clothes that we wear for the Colonial reenactments. And I revealed to him something that I rarely admit to anyone-- even Vicki does not know about it. I admitted that I have what I call the 'Rapunzel fantasy'. I often dream that I am kept in a tower with little to eat and no company, and few or even no clothes, though whatever I do have is very old-fashioned, like maybe a plain linen chemise and a bed jacket and a skirt, and maybe and little else. And I am waiting for someone special to rescue me or just come in and make love to me first, and then sweep me away to a palace and make me his wife. Like if the special guy rode up on a horse to save me, I would love that! And there doesn't have to be anything sexual about it at all, you know, but there's just a very sexy feeling about being rescued and swept off my feet. And I used to think it was weird but now as I play old-fashioned games with the Cs' little girls and share more of myself with the people online, I find that many women seem to have similar fantasies, and now I don't feel so embarrassed about it, you know. I mean, it is a little immature-- but that's me, isn't it? I mean, I've never been terribly modern and 'emancipated' about what about what I want for myself. I consider myself very old-fashioned and I don't apologise for it. I am smart enough to recognise the innate goodness of old-fashioned times and I want that for myself in the real world. I just don't know how I can have it-- without going back in time, that is.
And sometimes, I actually have the dream about it at night-- like last night. The man of my dreams-- whomever he is-- rode up on a motorbike, actually, and swept me off my feet and carried me away. And he was dark and handsome, really-- he had thick dark eyebrows and bushy black hair, or sort of slicked back, I think it was, and he was older, but very dashing, with a black moustache and a big black cape. And it happened at school! --though not this one. I don't know what school it was. Sometimes I dream it where I'm naked, like I'm totally vulnerable, you know, in my undies or something. But this time I had clothes on-- only no skirt for some reason-- just a slip. [giggle] So he took my hand, led me down the hall, and we left on his motorbike, and I rode sidesaddle, just holding him, with the wind blowing up my slip. And I remember he smelled nice-- I don't remember what the scent was, just that I loved it, like an aphrodisiac. And he promised to make love to me.
And then I woke up. [pout] And it was deep in the wee hours and still dark and cold out and I couldn't get back to sleep, just thinking about it , replaying it in my mind, over and over, till all the details had eroded away and I could only remember how sexy I felt, being the object of some exciting, passionate man who would truly love me.
[sigh]