last night there was a frightening dream�violent, very, and sex sex sexually graphic. that is the warning, the dream as follows:

i am home straightening up an apartment, nervous and very tense�everything has to be perfect. tonight i have a plan, an escape, and upsetting my husband would be a bad thing to do.

i wait in the entrance room, which also serves as our bedroom, nothing more really than a thin hallway with a single bed pushed up against one wall and a row of dressers and a desk against the other. there are about three feet in-between in which to walk. somewhere there is a bathroom. these two rooms are the whole apartment � we cannot afford much else since i am not allowed out to get a job.

i sit on the bed, naked as he likes, my hair as he likes, legs crossed as he likes. everything in the room is in place and arranged. i am breathless and shaking, and wait for those steps on the stairs, the heavy shuffle to the door. this is a familiar routine, and i know the details of the door latch well, the chips and flaws in the cheap paint.

i smoothe out the comfort one last time, adjust the pillows�then the steps, heavy and hard as his fist, the rattle of the key in the lock.

my husband opens the door and glares in�a second after, so he can see my pose on the bed first, i scramble to him - take his duffle bag and coat, quickly and completely undress him. true to custom i lay him back on the bed, run my hands over his skin�s rough, muscle�s twitch.

his body is an awe-ful machine, and his mind predictable and ignorant and unyielding as well�i will have to be careful, watch for signals and signs � the clench of his jaw just before he decides where to hit, the snap of his eye to any item left out of place. i know them well.

i rub and suck, explaining to him in husky whispers how much i want to do things to him, to be uninhibited, a proper wife�licking his skin with silk words. i tell him that i would like to please him fully, and in order to do so i would like to try something different. every word lies and manipulation, i weave the smallest and most delicate web � alert to his every breath and movement. can i please you? can i try this thing, oh please�?

and we are down to the moment of decision, will he let me? he asks what i will do, and in answer i take out plastic cording and kiss his hands together�the hands that i hate, that have left me limping and bruised, those hands that lock the door, that hold the only key. before he realizes what i have done, i secure the ends of the plastic cord, his wrists completely and solidly strapped together. the plastic is crude, woven and knotted together from milk-lid-rims, twist-ties and coffee can lid rims�it has taken months of collecting bits of string and thread, in secret. i smile at him with pity and love, the shock on his face apparent � the light of what i have done dawning across his eyes.

just as i think of reaching for the towel bar underneath the bed, snapped in half and broken to a sharp point to kill this wife-beating-son-of-a-fuck, i realize the cord is unraveling, his hands free.

everything has failed, my one chance, so carefully crafted, has slipped through my hands�and i smile and shine for him � i hide my tears and frustration in the coarse hair of his groin, all of my effort now toward making him forget.

he explains to me that i am in the correct place now, and that nothing could please him more�as he pushes my head down and down, a fist tangled in my hair. i choke and sputter yes, yes, you are right, knowing that i failed and deserve this. i have deserved everything over the years, so pathetic and stupid.

he flips me up, on my knees and hands, facing away, fingering my ass open with one and two, and i beg for more, for a fist�his whole arm. in the last seconds of the dream i can feel my internal organs ripping free and an indeterminate amount of pain � but also release, for i would finally now be free of his tyranny.

*gasp*

waking up from that one at four in the morning, sweating and alone was a horrible horrible thing. today i feel residual anger�and tense. my jaw aches from clenching my teeth last night, moving my mouth just hurts, almost like i�ve been hit.

interesting dream, and i know not where it came from. the man in the dream, my husband, was not my gentle and amazing TT, but someone completely different � a stranger.

so strange�