I lean back in my chair, having found nothing of real interest again on the computer; I decide to let myself drift into fantasy. The notion passes through my head that perhaps it is because you are on my mind that I can not find anything of interest, as lately things that once interested me no longer do. I let the thought leave, not wishing to dwell on it, and begin to lightly stroke and rub myself through my sweatpants occasionally as I slip into sweet fantasy. A familiar fantasy comes to me, as it has several times. One that began as a dream, a "Dreamer's Dream." The fantasy changes a little every time, becoming more devious as elements sneak into place. These changes are evidence that the seeds you have planted in my head have taken root, and are growing all of their own.
My fantasy has moved beyond the use of simple handcuffs. I now see you blindfolded, so you will not be distracted from my touches by sight, and can not anticipate my movements. I see you with a pair of leg irons secured above your calves with a long metal bar between them to keep you from closing your legs and pleasuring yourself that way. I see a rope around the chain on the handcuffs, securing you to one end of the bed, and I see another tied to a loop on the bar between your legs, secured to the other end of the bed. Thus you are totally helpless to break free of my desires, save to tell me to stop. You can beg and plead all you like and I will not let you go, but you need only speak it seriously to me and I will obey. I will not do something you wish me not to, unless I believe you in truth wish for me to continue.
The greatest change to my fantasy is it no longer ends where my dream did, it continues on. I move my hand into my pants and begin a slow rhythm as the rest of the fantasy washes over me. I pick up my fantasy where my dream left off, since the rest of it has already flashed through my mind.
I am petting and caressing the small of your back. You have fallen into a slow but steady stream of quiet moans. I kiss my way down the left cheek of your ass, and down the inside of your inner thigh. Your scent overwhelms me. I feel it shoot to the back of my head, and wash over my brain from the back after crashing into my skull as I take a strong whiff of your delightful musk. I am struck with a momentary feeling of euphoria from the effects of your scent that leaves me stunned. I gather myself up and begin to tenderly lick away the juices that dripped down your inner thighs during my earlier teasing. I clean away your nectar with the care of a cat cleaning its kitten.