Copyright 2003

It seemed so surreal and dream like. I felt strange and detached. I was in a room, this much I knew. There were other women in the room with me. I sensed them rather than saw or heard anything that would have cause me to have noticed their presence. If I looked around, all I saw was light and mist.

There was no sound and everything was misty and hazy. It was like being in a smoke filled room but there was no smell of smoke. Or, imagine a room with so much dust in the air, the light sort of outlines everything with halos or auras but obscures the details. The light was bright but not harsh on the eyes. It didn't seem to come from any one direction or single source but from everywhere. There were no colors other than black and white.

The people I saw - or men I should say, they were all men - dark against the bright mist and other than broad physical proportions, featureless. They never spoke. However, as it may sound, when a man came up to me I could sense his emotions and my emotions would seem to synchronize with his.

Let me try to explain. Remember, I said I felt detached. Somehow, I knew I was there to be assessed, to be bartered or purchased. That didn't upset me in the least. It seemed so natural, as did everything else. I wasn't upset, pleased, excited or anxious. I was disconnected from my emotions. I was just there. Time did not exist. I could have been there minutes, an hour or longer, I do not know. I was not aware of the passing of time.

During that timeless interval, a dozen or so men approached me-one at a time-and looked me over. At the time, I knew I was being appraised for something. But what for? Again, I didn't know. I didn't care. Of the twelve or so, three of these men stood out from the rest.

The first, I call the accountant. He was tall and thin. He looked me over for what seemed like minutes; seemly, inspecting every feature, looking for imperfections and comparing me to the other women. He reminded me of a bookkeeper from a Charles Dickens novel, sitting at his tall desk and scrutinizing the figures, except in this case the figure was mine.

As he looked me over, I sensed admiration mixed with apprehension, a fear of missing something better. I found myself ambivalent as to whether I wanted him to choose me or not. I sensed he felt that he might find someone better. Sure enough, he left thinking that he could always come back, if nothing better materialized.

Genghis Khan was another memorable shopper. Now, it might be unfair to compare this guy to Genghis Khan, especially since I never knew Genghis Khan. However, whenever I think of him, I get an image of Genghis Khan in my mind. He was much shorter than my accountant and much broader in the shoulders. His profile, which was all I could see, was stocky.

When he scrutinized me, it was much quicker and less for the details and more for masochistic qualities. My mental senses were overwhelmed with deep broodings and torment. I found myself wanting to be punished and controlled. My out-of-body sense of detachment was resigned to going with this brute and being his slave, sexual or otherwise. Abruptly, he turned and left, taking his brooding tension with him. Several others came and went before Adonis arrived.

I was in my misty cocoon of detachment when Adonis walked up. He had an athletic look. His athletic looking shoulders and chest tapered to a trim waist and hips that flared slightly at his thighs. I immediately felt a flip-flop in my stomach and tingling down below.

He looked me over with a look that seemed to undress me. I found myself wondering about his manhood and, what he would look like, what it would feel like in my hands. The more he looked at me the more I tingled and the wetter I became. I saw myself joined with him physically as one. I wanted him. I want to give myself to him.

Reaching toward me he offered me his hand. I extended my hand toward his. His warm and strong fingers closed around mine. I felt light headed.

Instantly, I found myself standing with him in a different room. This room was darker and warmer in a sense of coziness. The light was still source less but it was a warm candle like glow. I sensed that there was a bed behind me. I was in a bedroom. He stood silently looking down at me.

Slowly, he reached out and pushed one of straps of my shift off my shoulder. He did the same with the other strap. Gently he slid them down my arms. The silken shift slowly slid off my shoulders, over my breasts and hips to puddle on the floor around my feet. I was wearing nothing beneath the simple shift.

His eyes took in my body, as he looked me up and down, much like earlier. This time he seemed pleased with what he saw. I could sense his desire building and I grew heady with my feminine power.

The sense of detachment was gone. My senses were now heightened. I stood there wanting him to touch me. Finally, he leaned forward and kissed me softly on the neck, sending a chill down my shoulders and arms. Slowly, he kissed up to my ears and back down to my shoulders. My legs began to quiver and my womanhood started to assert itself.