Claires Desperate Idea Pt 01

Hello again! This is the beginning of a fairly sweet D/s story and there won't be sex for a while. I haven't told you much about either character because they will be slowly become more known as the story progresses.

I will reveal more about Fred in the next installment, so just use your imagination right now, and the history will become more detailed. Also, don't actually do this letter thing! It's not all that romantic in real life.

As before, for 18+ only, no being rude, and don't steal my writing.

Best,

Beatrice

***

Fred and her had been together practically since they were little kids. They were inseparable, playing and telling each other everything. Most childhood friends grow apart, but as they went from children to teenagers to adults, they were still each other's rock. He had soothed bruised knees from tree climbing, coached her for her exams, and held her through grief. She had been at his side through chicken pox, first heartbreak, and depression.

But Claire felt that the bond was falling apart. Now that they were in college, they developed different interests, ran in separate circles, and their conversations were shallow now. Besides, there was a certain over done fool in skimpy somethings who Claire wanted to punch every time she saw her clinging to Fred's arm. Not that she didn't have occasional dates, but it still felt like a cold knife in her guts.

It was what happened, she told herself as she threw her laundry into a loudly groaning basket and wiped away a tear. People aren't meant to stay side by side for life. Why did it hurt so much?

"He'll come around," her best friend Elle had told her. "You have all this history, you have excellent rapport, you are funny and smart and kind with a little badassery thrown in! Besides, you are gorgeous! No really! Your body is amazing and you face matches. Now if only I could get you let me give you a makeover..."

At that point, Claire had ceased listening. Elle was kind and funny, but she did seem to place too much importance on looks. Claire didn't even feel that way about Fred, did she?

Did she? Was she in love? She flopped on top of a defunct washer, stunned by her own cluelessness. Of course; all the pieces fit. The continual reminiscing, her rejection of dates, her murderous rage every time that floozy came into sight, the crying herself to sleep, those dreams...she blushed and made her thoughts go into a more appropriate direction.

The question was now whether anything could be done. Grabbing the newly cleaned clothes, she headed back to her dorm.

What could she do? Outright seduction would be signing up for rejection and she still had moral standards. Fred would never accept an overt approach from a friend and Claire honestly didn't have the guts. Besides, she knew she wasn't conventionally attractive. Neither petite or glamorously tall, she also had been gifted with a lack of figure. Her hair was unruly and a drab light brown. The only feature she felt could be called beautiful were her eyes, and that didn't help much. Not to mention she couldn't do sexy all that well.

She was wrong about her looks though. Her figure was well porportioned, her height was perfect for the rest of her, and her hair had the thickness and waves worthy of a Renaissance painting. But she had always been the shy nerd, so she barely ever wore anything that wasn't a huge tee shirt and baggy jeans.

Having eliminated the overt seduction route, she sat down and tried to read for her seminar. The more she read, the less she remembered, and the more she thought about Fred. The way he would smile, the way he could be joking and serious simultaneously, the way he looked sinfully appealing...

The way he would kiss her soulfully. The way he'd whisper dirty things in her ear. The way he would pin her to the garishly wallpapered wall and claiming her as his while...

Where did that come from?! She wasn't that kind of girl. Maybe. This situation was such a mystery to her.

She stuffed her homework onto a shelf. It could wait an hour. Grabbing a piece of paper she drafted a plan. Fred loved mysteries, so she would create one, simultaneously intriguing him and avoiding outright rejection. Cowardly perhaps, but most people had that fear.

She would write a series of anonymous letters, confessing to her love and her imaginings, and each would include a clue to her identity. There would also be instructions for him to let her know if he still wanted the letters.

It sounded a little creepy and kind of stupid, but it was all she could think of as she frantically wrote the first letter.

***

Fred was getting sick of this situation. It was frustrating as hell to be so attracted to and (dare he admit it?) in love with Claire. Every time he saw her he wanted to snatch her up and...nope not going there.

Kat, the girl he was presently dating was proving to be not much more than a pretty face. He honestly didn't know why he'd gone out with her in the first place.

Yes, he did. They got together the night he saw Claire practically swooning in that slimy jerk Todd's arms. He was too hurt inside, so he'd grabbed the nearest distraction he could reach. Which meant he probably wasn't worthy of Claire anyway.

She always told him he was wonderful, but she didn't know what an awful cad he was. How much he hid from her because he was a coward who couldn't face the possibility of her being disappointed in him...hating him even.

Well, self pity and fear would get him nowhere. He would break it off with Kat and face Claire. He could lose his best friend, but the suspense would kill him.

***

Claire's hands were shaking as she read the story. It was too overt, too freaky. To be honest, she didn't know why she wrote it. For her plot to succeed, a depiction of a sweet little romantic interlude would probably be best.

Or would it? It did need to be attention grabbing, and that fantasy about being dominated and ravished would definitely do that.

To hell with it! She printed out the steamy tale, and wrote the clue word 'fudge' at the bottom. That old nickname looked so strange on the paper. Stuffing into an envelope, she wrote 'Yours' on the front and slipped it into Fred's mailbox.