Origins (1)

8 years old. Third grade. Small kid. Youngest in the class. Exceedingly shy. A favorite target of bullies.

During rec break, most of us in the class, boys and girls, were involved in a major snowball fight. Forts... prisoners... snowballs stockpiled in advance... the whole thing. One clean shot made you a POW... until members of your team overwhelmed the fort where you were held and rescued you.

For some reason that I wasn't really conscious of, in the middle of the action, I started daydreaming that two cute girls from the opposing camp, P and S, would be the ones to capture me. After nailing me with a snowball that would make a satisfying WHAP! against my snowsuit, they would call me out, and subdued, I would be marched over to their fort. Imagining myself held captive by them, I felt a warm feeling inside of me, a sense of relief that I was no longer on the run from other assaillants, I wouldn't get hit in the face by a snowball, or bullied by the class meanies as a sideshow to the actual snowball war. At the same time, I would be in the company of two pretty young girls that I evidently liked, without knowing or understanding why, and I would not have to go through the incredibly challenging task (and without doubt, embarassing task) of having to ask them to be their friend.

Some time later, maybe weeks, but more likely months, on a family trip, I found myself extending the daydream/fantasy when playing in the back of the car. Probably because my father braked suddenly, I rolled off the backseat and I was awkwardly trapped on the floor between the front seat and the backseat of the car. I stayed there for a while. I found my mind straying to a different place, again with an unexplicable warm feeling inside of me, as I found myself captured once more by P and S. I had been bound by rope, in that Cowboys & Indians type binding, with the rope coiled two dozen times around my upper body, in a cartoony kind of way. I was lying on the floor before the backseat of the car, at their feet, and they placed their feet over me to keep me still, looking down smiling in satisfaction at the captive they had in their possession.

This vision/fantasy was a re-occuring one for me over the course of the next 6 years or so. I remember that it often came back when on long car trips, or when a freshly-made bed had had the covers tucked tightly under the mattress, either because I slipped into it while it was like that, which happened occasionally at home, or because, during a stay at a hospital for a rather late incidence of a childhood disease (11 years old), the nurse would tuck us into bed each evening and create nearly immobilizing bondage by placing the sheets so far under the mattress.

The "captured" vision/fantasy took a back seat to other ones when, in my mid-teens, I came across my first novel about a dominant woman teacher forcibly seducing one of her young male students... in a strict but non-abusive way. This book led me to the discovery of a whole variety literature dealing with dominant women and their shy, younger male objects of passion...

Freud, anyone?