The assignment had a broader scope than her previous ones. She was to write every fantasy she could think of for Him, and particularly focus on those which could be enacted. She had one week, from the time He gave the assignment, and her initial excitement and happiness at his interest in her private thoughts had begun to give way to a realization of the effort involved in such an undertaking.
She had written for herself since childhood, and briefly entertained thoughts of being "a writer" in her late adolescence, but now, more than 20 years later, she had doubts about her ability to recreate the world in words. She still kept a journal sporadically, and had begun writing erotic stories a few months prior to being given her current assignment.
Her lover, the catalyst for her return to prose, enjoyed reading her stories, but He was a main character in them. How could He not be flattered and positively disposed toward such tributes? With His permission, she posted them on a couple of websites that specialized in erotica. Her close friends made encouraging comments, but of course they would. They were her friends and would not wish to hurt her feelings, even if they thought her work was in the mediocre range of that produced by other amateur aspiring pornographers.
Whatever doubts she entertained were pushed to the back of her mind as she sat in front of the keyboard now. She had promised to complete His assignment in the time given, and she had five days left. She would have to work diligently today, Easter Sunday, and after work each day until Friday to do her best for Him. She would not consider doing any less for her Dominate lover and erotic muse.
Many years ago, she read My Secret Garden, the famous compilation of women's sexual fantasies, and was struck by the elements of her own "secret garden" she found in the scenarios presented. There was some of everything, soft-focus romance, wanton lust, seduction, group sex, power exchange, and all orientations; het, bi and lesbian. Now it was time for her to present her own garden to her lover.
* * * * * *
I.
Her years of great sex were over in her early thirties, she had believed. Her once-happy marriage had ended in anger, frustration, bankruptcy and divorce. She had been contentedly monogamous with her husband for the entire decade they spent together. Her fantasy life continued during that time, but was populated by fictional characters only. To have thought "that way" of anyone she actually knew would have felt disloyal and wrong to her. Not that her husband would have cared who inspired her, so long as the desires were fulfilled in their bed, but she could not get past her feelings of guilt about "mental infidelity".
Things were entirely different in her life now, and she was amazed to find that, in spite of having lost much of her youthful beauty, she had gained a degree of confidence and sexual sophistication that made her more appealing to the type of 40-something men she had desired in her teens and twenties. And then she found the world of real life power exchange enthusiasts through the Internet, and knew she would never return to the vanilla world she had once thought was so great.
Her current lover, Talon, was her favorite Dominant thus far in her journey into the thrilling experience of sexual submission. Sometimes, a casual touch on her arm from him felt like an electrical jolt which went straight to her pussy, and she would feel herself growing damp immediately. He enjoyed toying with her lust in public, whispering sexy things in her ear at dinner parties, surreptitiously pinching a nipple or allowing her to feel the beginning of his erection as he pressed against her in a crowd.
One thing she had discovered very early on with Talon was that, even without any physical contact, the sound of His voice triggered an intense sexual response in her. The first time he Dominated her sexually, she stayed on the edge of orgasm until he gave her permission to fall over, in the form of a command. Ever since, with only his words, he could move her at light speed toward the ecstatic release she craved. He had mentioned to her in an email that he had sent her a package the previous day, so she was not surprised to find a small, rectangular box awaiting her after work. When she removed the brown paper wrapping, she found a cassette tape in a translucent gray acrylic box. The label had been printed on his computer, in "papyrus", the font he often used when they would chat at night. She smiled as she read the label through the smoked plastic, "listen while Alone" She was glad that her job both began and ended early, so her son was not yet home from school. She couldn't wait to see what Talon wished her to hear.
She stripped off her conservative white cotton sweater while going into the dresser drawer for her walkman and headphones. She laid the machine and its accessory on the bathroom counter as she kicked off the black leather mules and dropped the long black skirt to the floor, where it was soon followed by her pantyhose. A shower could wait, she thought, as she inserted the tape into the walkman, put on the headphones and pressed "play".
In her underwear only, she returned to the dresser to put on a pair of loose knit pants and a sweatshirt. The faint hiss during the silent part at the tape's beginning was replaced by her lover's voice. She jumped slightly when she heard "Hello, slutkitty. I am going to give you some instructions, and you are to do as I say, right now. If you are not alone, turn off the tape and return to it when you are alone." There was a brief pause, and then the familiar voice returned.
"Good, now we can begin, and know, My kitten, that as I recorded this for you I was imagining you now, hearing my words. You are fulfilling my fantasy at this moment, and you will continue to do that until I instruct you to stop." She felt the familiar rush of excited anticipation, wondering what He would require of her.
"You will now touch your breasts, through your clothes. When the nipples begin to harden, you will reach under your clothes, and pinch them, making them harder and larger and more sensitive for me." She complied, imagining His hands had replaced her own as they moved under her sweatshirt and then inside her bra. "Yes, that is very nice, dear. You have lovely nipples that I greatly enjoy sucking and biting, and I know they are ready for my attention right now, aren't they?"
"Yes, Sir", she whispered, closing her eyes and sitting down on the side of her bed.
"Now, I want you to release your breasts for the moment, and make yourself comfortable in a chair, or you may lie down, if you wish" he continued. She swung her legs onto the bed and pulled an extra pillow under her head. "I know you are wet for me now, kitten. I want you to think about my hands on you, exploring your body in any way I desire."
She sighed, remembering times he had done just that with her bound, or when she was held in place by just His instruction not to move. He could play S & M at a level that pushed a novice like herself, but he was also much more the sensualist than the sadist. Every strike was balanced by more than one caress, and the pain and pleasure enhanced each other until she was gloriously unable to distinguish one from the other.
"Now, move your legs apart slowly. I want you to slide your hands down your body. Feel how warm you are right now. Cup both your hands around your pussy and hold it for a moment. Feel the way you feel to me." She was warm, as he had known she would be. The gentle pressure of her palms curving over the mound made her tingle with desire. She felt her heat and the springy softness of flesh under her hands.
