The Fantasy Letter
It’s been a few days since I read that article online called the “Fantasy Letter.”
This indie author spoke of a technique that could be used by spouses to spice up their marriage. The online spot got dozens of positive reviews, and to be honest, Taylor and I have a great relationship. But lately, with the winter coming on, we’ve been spending less time outside and the cold weather had us doing little more than cuddling up on the couch and watching movies inside.
We needed an intimacy boost. So I took Clarke’s advice and wrote up a quick fantasy request…something I had dreamt of and kept only to myself, and placed the handwritten letter in his lunch bag the one day. According to Clarke, the fantasy must be fulfilled by the reader within seven days. Monday would mark it’s end, and it being Saturday evening, I was feeling a bit let down. I’d been quite the hot mess all week, and enjoying long showers with my little friend didn’t give me the pleasure I sought from a pair of arms wrapped around my body and their matching lips kissing me in ways that I hadn’t felt in weeks.
On the bus ride home from work, I get a text from Taylor.
I read your letter the other day.
My heart begins to race. I had never spoke to him about the things I mentioned in that letter. I hope he’s not mad with me. After some hesitation, I text him back, curious of his reaction.
Did you? What do you think honey?
-I had no idea you like that sort of thing.
My anticipation grew exponentially, as I was unsure whether he was upset with me or not. I text back.
Are you upset with me?
-Let’s just say…It starts the moment you get in the door.
I lower the phone into my purse. Holy shit. He bit! Looking out the window of the bus as it neared my neighbourhood I wondered how he’d entertain the thought of domination and submission with me. I had secretly wanted to be told one night. I wanted to be controlled, to be mastered, to be directed by my lover in different ways. I wanted more than anything, to submit myself, totally and completely, to the man I was so in love with.
My daydream out at the scrolling cityscape was interrupted by the squeal of the bus’ brakes at it came to a stop in front of our house. I quickly get off the center steps and walk to the front door, eager to know what my quiet-at-times husband has in store for me and my fantasy request.
I turn the lock and let myself in.
“Hi honey. I’m home.” I look around for Taylor and all I see is a note on the floor. I pick it up and read it with a whisper.
There will be two Acts in tonight’s performance.
Enter Act One.
“Hey beautiful. So glad you’re home.”
I look past the letter and guiltily crumple it in my hand, reaching to place it quickly in my coat pocket, as if I’d been suddenly caught with something. Down the hallway I see Taylor. Immediately my senses startle me. Something is quite peculiar. In fact, many things are peculiar. I slowly take them in as I reach for my coat buttons, trying not to look astonished.
I see Taylor walking toward me with a smooth even stride, slower than usual. His shoulders back, chest out, and a smile on his face. He is not wearing the usual track pants and beer shirt that I put up with everyday, but instead is suited up in a silver tuxedo and navy blue tie. The tie brings out his beautiful eyes which I fell in love with when we first met years ago in our twenties.
“Here, let me take that, sweetheart.” He reaches for the last of my buttons with one hand as he lifts my purse from my shoulder and sets it down on the bench nearby. “How was your day at work?”
“Uh, it was…fine,” I respond, incredulity filling my mind. Taylor gently removes my coat and reaches behind me to hang it up on the rack. I take a moment to inhale the air around me. The unmistakable scent of our favorite cologne surrounds him. It perks my nose and makes me exhale contentedly.
“Leg please,” Taylor demands firmly as he drags the bench in front of him requesting to remove my footwear. I stare in disbelief as he unzips each of my boots and places them aside. He never even gets off the couch! What is going on?
“Now, come, and join me for dinner, sweetheart. Everything is ready.”
He takes my hand and gives me a soft kiss on the lips, then leads me into the dining room, which is illuminated by soft candlelight. The murmer of soft jazz fills the distance as he leads me to my seat and holds it out for me.
“Did you actually cook tonight?” I ask, still wondering if, in fact, I am in my own house.
“Of course. Lamb Chops with Pesto Croute. Crème Brulee follows…”
I take my seat, still unsure of what all this is, and he tucks me in. Taylor then lifts the covers off our meals to reveal a steaming plate of lamb with crushed pesto and baby greens. He pours me a glass of my favorite red wine and slowly takes his seat…all without taking his eyes off me.
“I’m not even dressed. Look at me. Look at you!”
Taylor slowly lifted his glass and motioned me to do the same. “I am looking at the most beautiful woman in my life, the one woman I just had to have and never let go. Cheers. Here’s to tonight, where I will hold on even tighter to the woman I admire so deeply.”
The glasses clinked and I took a sip of the Zinfandel.
All through dinner, Taylor was the gentleman I know, though he had faded slightly in more recent times. I don’t know, life happens I guess. People get busy. We have our jobs. Stresses. But the more we dig into our obligations, its important that we remember why we fell in love. And I have a feeling, tonight’s lesson is on Mr. Clarke.
Now wrapping up dessert, I see an almost cocky gaze from the man sitting across from me.
“Was dinner to your liking?”
“Yes. You really cooked all this?”
I turned my head slightly and squinted, then let out a chuckle. This man of mine has surprised me enough in the last hour. I can’t wait to see what else he has up his sleeve.
Lifting from his seat, he reaches for the empty plates and sets them in the dishwasher.
“I’d like you to finish the rest of that Zinfandel while I go run you a bath. Then I’ll clear the rest of the table so everything is nice and clean down here while you bathe. I don’t want you to lift a finger for this place.” He passes me by but first lowers his head to where I’m seated and kisses me softly on the forehead. Then, in seconds, he disappears up the stairs.
I sit there, consuming the wine, and look down at the table, candles still burning with a soft glow. He did all this for me. Everything so perfect. What’s come over him?
Soon my contemplation is axed by a set of warm hands on my shoulders. Taylor’s lips find my neck, just under the ear, and I reach up and hold his hand with mine and smile.
“Go on up. You have bubbles and everything. I’ll take care of this.
I head up the steps, still smiling, and make my way into the bedroom, from where I can see the bath, lined with deep red rose petals along its edge, and a few candles lit to create a darksome ambiance.
As I remove my clothes and set them aside, I find one more note on the bed. I pick it up and note the handwriting:
And now, for Act Two, my Loyal Lola.
Enjoy your bath. This is just the beginning…
A tingle ran through my belly, as I read these words. I’ve never been so curious about anything Taylor has said, out of mouth, or on paper. Since when did he become a poet?
I slipped into the hot bubbly water and let it soothe every muscle in my body. Lowering myself further in the tub, the waterline crept up over my nipples until only my shoulders and head were perched above, my hair still in the big power bun I set in the morning.
Minutes passed, and I splashed the end of the tub with my toes, bubbles everywhere, my heart content from the surprise pampering this evening. Suddenly, I see the door that connects the washroom to our bedroom slowly close, and the light in the groove under the door go dim.
What the fuck?
“Taylor?” I yell, confusedly. Moments later, the paper from the bed slid under the door with a swoosh, and came to land face up near the tub.
It’s time to see what this is all about, so I get up out of the tub and wrap myself in a towel. I walk over and push open the door.
It is at that moment, that I feel I’ve stepped into some kind of movie…
I look around the room and see its corners illuminated with the soft gleam of candlelight. A definite ambiance of darkness and mystery embraces me. Soon I’m startled by the presence of a dark figure sitting in the recliner by the window.
“Taylor? What are you doing?”
“There’s a box on the bed, Lola. Open it.”
Hearing his familiar voice, I’m comforted, and decide to entertain his request. I walk over to the large cardboard box and lift the lid. Inside I find several items of clothing, though few of which I doubt he’d let me wear out in public.
“I’m going to be your Master tonight, my loyal Lola, and if you’ll submit yourself to me tonight, I will bring you all the passion and pleasure you deserve.”
A rush of adrenaline floods across my chest. I look at my love’s eyes in the flicker of candlelight and he sees my slow nod and cracks the merest of smiles. Still in his suit, he sits back with one leg crossed, an unusual level of confidence, almost arrogance about him as he stares at me. Maybe he has tuned into my fantasy letter will full effort. I continue to play along, and let my towel fall to the ground.
“You want me to wear these clothes for you?”
“Yes. All of it.”
One by one, I slip into each item of clothing, transforming myself into his play toy. I fasten on a lacey black bra. Sliding each strap over my shoulders after I clasp it together, I see a patience in my Master’s eyes. He waits and admires every movement of my hands along my body. He watches quietly as I slide on a black skirt, way shorter than anything I own, but flowy enough that it could be lifted for any ensuing action. His beautiful eyes never leave my legs as I raise each foot onto the edge of the bed and slip on a pair of lacey black thigh highs. At the foot of the bed are a new pair of knee high black wedge boots. I step into each one and zip them up.”
“Do it slow.” He growls, watching the slow movement of my hands up each leg. He loves my legs. Can’t keep his hands off the touch of my skin. And I have a feeling tonight will be no exception on whatever these boots don’t cover.
“You’re going to be my dark princess tonight. How does everything feel?”
“Everything feels perfect.” I take a few steps in my comfortable new boots and turn around to look at him, slapping my hands on my thighs. “How do I look?”
“Beyond perfect. Except, you need one more thing…to be my princess.”
Taylor slowly gets up from his chair and reaches into his jacket pocket, pulling out a black leather collar.
“Come here.” I approach, a smile on my face.
“Turn around.” I pivot on my heel and wait.
Moments later I feel a band of soft leather press around my neck and it draws snug as my master secures its latch. I turn to look at it in a nearby mirror and place my hand on it. Solid black with a small heart locket hanging from a single link. I feel the warmth of my Masters face as his jawline nears my neck and he speaks to me.
“Now, you are complete. You are my dark princess. And you will give yourself to me so that I may give all my love and passion to you.”
Thrilled with the unfamiliarity of it all, I’m instantly silenced. All I can do is nod as I look in the tall mirror not far away, the reflection of his tall suited body near me, my body a perfectly wrapped gift for him to unravel.
“Now what?” I finally ask, my voice returning amidst the rush of nerves.
“Now, you will not speak unless I ask you to speak. You will do only what I ask you to. You will give what I want to take, and you will take what I want to give to you. Do you understand, princess?”
Knowing I was no longer in the position to toy with his authority, I nodded in silence, and awaited my first instruction.
Taylor began to instruct me with a dark tone in his voice.
“Stand over here and face me. Good. Now, let me see your hands. Show them to me.”
I raised my hands to his chest, palms down. He took them in his hands and lifted them to his nose, slowly inhaled the sweet scent of my skin, then issued each one a slow, soft kiss. He then lowered them and while holding them in one hand, he reached into his pocket and withdrew a length of braided cotton rope.
My thoughts are instantly teased, as I never thought I’d be the subject of bondage. He whips the rope to his side, straightening the odd tangle, and proceeds to draw it over my wrists. I watch quietly, enjoying the feel of the soft cotton fibres slithering around my wrists as he binds them with an intricate pattern of wraps and knots. I bite my lower lip just long enough to soothe my anxieties but release quick enough that my Master does not see my actions.
He looks at me, flickers of light in his hungry eyes.
I shake my head.
“Good. Don’t move.”
Taylor walks over to the back of the room and extinguishes a few candles, further darkening one side of the bedroom. He then saunters to the closet and removes his tuxedo jacket and fixes it neatly on a hanger. He then returns to his side of the bed, several feet away from where I’m standing, and begins to undo his cuff links, the whole time staring at me with a darkness that nearly makes me uneasy.
I trust him, and wait patiently, not sure of what his, or my, actions are next.
He then places on the bed a soft cloth bag and opens it, withdrawing a thick black leather harness, with large chrome latches in the middle and on either end. He carries it in one hand, looking almost like a long paddle hanging from his grip. Surely he won’t be striking me with that!
But I trust him.
He walks over and stands in the doorway between our bedroom and the hallway, then turns to me.
I walk to him slowly, the sound of my boots on the floor signal my compliance. I come to stop inches from his face and our eyes meet without a word for the longest of moments.
I wait, hands bound in front of my moistening crease.
He sets the leather harness aside, and raises his other hand and pulls apart his necktie with one smooth motion. His eyes travel up and down my body. I can see that he is beginning to lose a bit of patience in my presence. I am his gift, to be unravelled and consumed in any way he desires. I am the epitome of his living desires, and it makes me beyond pleased to be the one who brings each and every need and want of his to fruition.
I watch him trace the palm of his hand along the side of my body, from waist to cheek, the soft silken tie between his palm and my skin. He cradles my jaw and pulls me in for another soft kiss. I feel a slight tension in the bridge above his lip. I can tell he is fighting to restrain his control as he smells my skin. God how he loves my skin. My soft outer shell melts him every time. But tonight, he will not show weakness as I obey his every command.
Pulling back, he finally speaks.
“You will do as I say, and you will listen to, and know what you do to me.”
He slowly wraps the girthiest portion of his tie over my eyes and affixes the other end in a gentle knot behind my head. I become even more aroused by the lack of sight and the scent of his cologne now drifting just above my nose.
After a long moment, I hear his voice again.
I lower to my knees, hands still bound, and await his next instruction.
“Undo me,” he commands, his voice more of a whisper than a growl at this point.
I reach forward and feel along the soft material of his pants until my hands stumble onto a large bulge. A guilty smile etches across my face and I say not a word, as I begin to unbuckle his belt and undo his pants. With some difficulty, I finally free his belt and pants from his waist, and pull down his silk boxers to let his hard cock spring free.
“I want you to taste my desire.”
I flinched at those words, and tightened my legs together. My Master is blending his dirty thoughts with mine so well tonight, I don’t think I ever want this to end. I meet his request and stroke his erect member with my hands. My own desires are confirmed as I feel pre-cum oozing all over my thumbs. My Master wants me.
I lean forward and begin to lick the head of his erection. I suddenly hear a slow, pleasurable exhale inches above me in that doorway. He tastes so good that I want more. So I open up and slide more into my mouth, then wrap my lips around him and suck until I hear a startled groan from deep in his own throat. I pull away, my tongue being the last thing to mate with his head, and a ribbon of pre-cum draws apart as his breathing becomes hard. I know he is watching my every move. My playfulness charges a current of adrenaline through every vein in his body as he flexes and mumbles incoherent pleasures through his lips.
I want to wrap my hands around his back side and pull him deep in my mouth for a moment, but with hands tied, it will not happen. Instead, I reach up, under his dress shirt, and feel his warm abs reciprocate as he inhales, exhales, and I continue my tease on his cock by licking his head and sucking on it just the way he likes. Soon, I am able to make my Master speak again.
“See….what you do to me? Can you feel my need? Can you hear every ounce of my want for you?” I pull away and whisper back.
I know I’m breaking him. My wonderful Taylor knew just what I wanted when he read my letter, but I figure this fetish would be a great test of strength for the two of us. I fucking love it!
I do as I am told, surprised that he doesn’t want my mouth around him longer.
“I’m going to secure your hands and arms above you. You will then remain standing so I can admire every inch of you.”
I raise my hands into the air, and hear the clang of buckles. Taylor must be securing that contraption to the ceiling. Then, right in the middle of the doorway, I feel my hands lifted up high and hooked into the harness.
“Are you comfortable?” he asks.
“Yes. For now.”
“Good. Now I will admire you, in any way I desire.”
The feeling was both unusual and intense, as, still blindfolded, I felt on display to a world I could not see around me. I heard the sound of Taylor’s pants and belt hit the floor, and assumed by now that he was in nothing more than his shirt and shorts…maybe less.
It was then evident that my Master was standing behind me. The warmth of his chest through his suit shirt radiated on my back, and I felt the hyper-soft tickle of his fingers as they skated down my bound arms, from wrist to shoulder.
I tried very hard to flinch, but it was useless. I am so ticklish, that I ended up flinging my arms about, pivoting on my boots, giggling from my lover’s actions.
“Don’t move unless I tell you to move.”
I nodded then let out a long exhale while attempting to concentrate on my posture while savoring his powerful touch. His touch now came in the form of lips, which he dotted against every place on my body where he could see bare skin. Slow, sweet, and sensual was his pace, and it felt like a blissful eternity while I surrendered myself to him.
“One second.” I waited…and waited.
Not far away, I hear the sound of liquid trickling into a glass. The Zinfandel!
“My Princess must be thirsty. Here. Drink.”
I feel the rim of a champagne glass touch my lips and he tilts it gently as I consume the entire glass, several sips at a time. The taste is wonderful, and I swallow nearly all of it, a few drops falling on my chest. I giggle, feeling more blissful as the night progresses.
“Let’s clean that wine up.”
Not a moment later, I feel my bra spring loose. He unclasps the shoulder straps and tosses my lacey top aside and has his way with me. The stubble around his lips grazes my chest as he licks off the few drops of wine and eventually takes one of my nipples in his mouth. They both get erect, one in his hand, the other in his mouth, and his tongue dances around, gently lashing my hard-tipped breast with his mouth.
His mouth moves from one of my boobs to the other. Gentle sucks and licks abound. He feels my chest heave as he nips at my breasts, driving me crazy and making me very wet. I shift about on my boots, a slight strain on my arms.
He notices and stops.
“Are you uncomfortable.”
“No. I’m fine. Keep going.”
“What?” he demands sternly.
“Please, keep going, Master.”
Soon I feel my lover’s hands trail up my legs from atop my boots to around the back of my ass. He digs his digits in and lifts me off the floor by my ass. I wrap my leg around him and tighten his torso very hard, my wet pussy more than ready for his actions.
He ravages my mouth with his, poking my lips feverishly with that perfect long tongue of his.
“The blindfold…” I whisper, in heat.
“It stays on until I say so!”
He sets me down again, the minute of relief good on my dangling arms.
Next, I hear a thud, as I suspect Taylor dropped to his knees.
“I want to taste EVERY inch of you, Princess.”
I can tell, by his choice of words, that My Master is losing some control. He is almost asking for me, slightly kinder than his short demands earlier on. But it soon makes no difference, as I feel his strong arm take hold of my one leg and sling it gently over his shoulder.
His tongue makes the most wonderful contact with my clit, just under my short skirt. He decides to leave it on me, and it quickly adds to the feeling of taboo…the thought of a man taking what he wants from under my clothes, and I become further flushed with anticipation.
He licks and traces my slit from end to end, repeatedly swirling my bud with his masterful tongue. I want so desperately to release my hands and grip his head, feeding it into me so I can cum from all the good feels…but I am prisoner to only his touch.
But in return for binding my arms, I send back a tease, and thrust myself into his face, while curling my one leg tight around his head. The sensation is so good, so empowering.
“Oh my God…” I whimper. Taylor pulls away and stands near me, his voice dark and unbridled.
“You will not cum until I tell you to cum, Princess. Do you hear me?!”
“Yes, Sir.” My body aches. My pulsing pussy aches. I want to orgasm so bad, but I will not yet let go. Not until my lover tells me I can. It’s part of the surrender. Part of the pleasure. Our pleasure.
Suddenly, I feel the blindfold pulled off my head and I take a moment to adjust my eyes to my surroundings. Luckily, the light is still dim, and I quickly find myself still in the doorway, hands hooked onto that strange leather harness traversing the doorframe.
What’s with the whole doorframe thing? Does Taylor have a problem with beds?
I look to my side and find our wall mirror repositioned not far away from where I’m standing, in the hallway. I get a clear view of Taylor standing behind me, his eyes gazing at me through the mirror.
“I can never tell you how completely beautiful you are to me.”
I tilt my head back and nuzzle into his neck, admiring how much he loves each of my curves, even the one or two I hate.
“Tonight I want you to see, feel, and hear how much I love you.”
Before I could look into his eyes to respond, my Master turns my face by the chin, and points to the mirror. He makes me watch him proceed to fuck me good and hard.
Every moment continues to be surreal, as I see every second of our actions. He lets his hands float from my shoulders down to my hips as he steps into me, nudging my legs apart, and he enters me.
I let out a long moan as he inches into my wet slit. I watch contently as he intensifies his grip around my waist and pulls me onto him, each thrust of his shaft edging deeper in my welcoming walls.
His body is beautiful and strong. It matches me perfectly as he holds me together with him as we are one in the candlelight. He reaches up and undoes the main latch, allowing my arms to lower and I take hold of the door frame in front of me. We are standing squarely under the doorline and I get the feeling I know why he likes this location.
He can push. He can pull. He can have me dangle. I’m starting to like his creativity. And speaking of pulling, my once neat hair bun is beginning to unravel from the constant rocking motion. Taylor reaches up and slips out the pin holding it all together and it falls to my sides in a long beautiful mess, just the way he likes it.
I flick my head and turn to see his eyes on me. I stare back with an angry fire burning in my belly, wanting to be extinguished. His perfect gift is becoming very unravelled and needs to be consumed immediately.
“Oh fuck,” I whimper, as his hard length paddles my g-spot over and over. I arch my back tightly and lift my head back. That’s when he grabs a fist full of my hair and pulls me just slightly farther so I can look straight back, up at his beautiful face, now the façade of a feral dragon, ready to consume my flesh.
Several wicked thrusts later, I see the look in my Master’s eyes. He is going to explode. He lets go of my hair and sets both hands firmly on my waist.
“Now, you may cum, Princess!”
So close to the edge am I, that I swivel my head, my mess of hair tossed over my one shoulder, and I stare at him with an evil smile. I’m possessed by his every command this evening and decide to return his command. As I near my peak, I squat down another inch and press hard on the doorframe with my hands. I extend my arms fully and press myself onto his cock, pinning his body against the other side of the doorframe. His body jolts in surprise as he feels my ass firm on his body, and I then tremble instantly, cuming all over his spewing member. My Master dons the most complete grin as he watches me stumble forward, trying to collect myself as I gush from the after shocks.
At a loss for words, I am beyond pleased. On my knees, I see Taylor undo the rope from my wrists and he lifts me to the standing position. He massages my arms with his smooth hands, relieving the slight numbness in my wrists. He then picks me up in his arms and carries me onto the bed where he removes my skirt and lifts each leg onto his shoulder one at a time, and removes my boots and stockings.
The last thing he removes is my collar, and in its place, he nuzzles his nose and dots my nape with the soft kisses he commenced with. We say nothing as we lay in bed together. Not a need in the world for phrases. Just the sweet notion of love and commitment surrounds us.
And I fall asleep on the chest of my lover.
The next day at work would be difficult. Often it would be hard to concentrate as my mind drew constant playbacks of our actions together. A simple Fantasy Letter…a scribed request for the extraordinary, was all it took to steer our love and affection back on track, and fuel it for years to come.
I get a text from Taylor while I’m having lunch with my lady friends.
Happy Birthday sweetheart. Oh, and check the side of your purse.
What? What is Taylor up to? He always says man should never reach into a woman’s purse.
With a curious grin, I unzip the smaller pocket on the outside of my purse and pull out a small gift box.
“What’s that, Lola? A birthday gift from your husband? What a sweet man. Go ahead. Open it. We all want to see.”
“Right. Ok.” Nervously, I open the box, and I melt…
Inside I pull out a beautiful 24k gold necklace. To my surprise, at its center, hangs the heart locket that was on the collar I wore last night. I held the necklace tight, the warmest of smiles on my face.
It was from that day on, that I wore my Master’s commitment around my neck.
And knowing that love would find its way to those who sought it,
I would forever keep his love close to my heart.