Fantasy For Emma Ch 01

My dearest Emma,

What you are about to read was written for another. Sometime ago I read a contact ad written by a woman who was advertising as a submissive. She asked for a fantasy. Over a period of days and weeks the attached document was written in a blur of passion, orgasm and heated, feverish mind-bending.

I finished the fantasy, but it was never sent. Too much time had passed. The woman had passed from my mind. The ad was ancient. But the work was completed.

Now, I am handing it on to you.

Beware.

It is hot. It is steamy. It is dirty. It is sexy. It is perverse.

The fantasy, which was once for another, is now for you.

As such I request that you keep it private.

You know that I have a deep lust, yeah a deep love, for you. You know that I wish to administer to every curve of your succulent body. You know that I want to suck you to orgasm, after orgasm, after repeated orgasm. You know I want to bury myself in the warm enfolding depths of your being. You know I want you to CUM. And you know how I want to CUM with you. Oh, how I want to CUM with you.

Know this . . .

And read on.

And enjoy

Enjoy to the very core of your lovely, dirty, sexy, steamy and, dare I say it, perverse mind.

The fantasy is now yours.

And YOU are THE FANTASY.

AJD

NOW READ ON

My dear love child,

How demanding you are for one who expresses a desire to be submissive! It is obvious that you need a controlling hand that can teach you that your body and mind belong not to you, but to the person to whom you submit. And you will submit to me.

You ask that your fantasy should be made a reality. That will be done, but only after I have provided you with a little more fantasy to wet your appetite and to make your cunt juices run freely and copiously.

Before you read further, here are my first instructions for you

.

1.

Go to your bedroom, remove all your clothing, except for your bra, panties and a pair of silk stockings. Remember that once we start our journey on this sexual adventure these are the only items of clothing you will be allowed to wear when we are alone together. However, should we go out in public you will not be allowed to wear any panties; I will require full access to your body at all times.

2.

Close the curtains, turn on a soft, warm light and lie down on the bed with your head propped against a pillow. You must be able to see and touch your tits, your belly, your thighs and your cunt.

3.

Do not hesitate in pleasuring yourself while reading the rest of this letter. This will be the last time you will be in full control of your own body.

Take this opportunity to stroke, fondle and squeeze your sexually aching tits. Pinch your nipples till they become engorged, erect and hard, hard enough to scratch the palm of your hand. Trail your manicured fingernails over your belly and thighs. Rub your clit till you are wet and open and your body takes over from your mind.

As you start to come, do NOT cease in pleasuring your own body. Your cunt will now be wide open; push your fingers into your cunt and imagine that it is my hard, rampant cock (the cock that you will come to worship) that is plunging firmly into your cunt, satisfying your need.

Remember, this is the last time you will be allowed to take control of your own body without my permission.

From now on your tits are mine, to treat as I see fit. If I wish to bind them in ropes till they are sore and aching that is mine to do. If I wish to caress them with silk that is also mine to do. Your swollen nipples, which give away your unfulfilled sexual desires, are mine. I will suck them, bite them, beat them with my cock. I will give them my fullest attention.

Your lips are mine. When ordered you will kiss my lips, my body and my feet. You will open your lips to receive my throbbing cock and you will suck it till I spurt come down your throat. If you refuse you will be punished.

Your cunt is mine. I will fuck you for my own pleasure or, if the whim takes me, to make you scream with lust and desire. You will keep your pubic hairs neatly trimmed and your fuck hole must be ALWAYS open and ready for my access.

Again, YOUR BODY IS MINE; you will offer it to me and I will accept your submission as the plaything you are to become.

Now you are ready to fantasise. For now I will call you Emma. This will now be your slave name. So, Emma, lie on the bed, do as you have been ordered, fuck your cunt with your fingers and let your imagination be your reality

It is early afternoon and Emma's body is quivering with anticipation. She has no idea what will happen to her today; no idea what will take place in the quiet seclusion of her own home.

All that she knows is that in a few minutes she will be flirting with danger. She will be consumed by lust. She will become the sexual tool for someone she has only ever contacted by mail. True, the letters were rich and ripe with sexual demands and wishes. True, the letters added reality to desires that had previously only been part other thoughts and dreams.

But soon, her once idle thoughts are to translated into actions of lust and depravity. She is about to submit herself to another, to give up any freedoms she had over the use of her swelling, burgeoning body. She shivers with delightful anticipation.

For a moment the anticipation becomes almost too much. Her hand strays to the open neckline of the crisp, white blouse she has been ordered to wear.

It would be so easy to give in to her desires. There is no one here to stop her cupping her full breasts in her aching hands; no one here to stop her fingers slipping into the cups of the brief, black, lacy bra that enfolds her swelling tits. Who would know if she pinched her nipples till they became hard and erect?

Who would know if her hands strayed beneath the brevity of her form-fitting, crimson skirt, almost formal in its cut and design, but rendered wanton by the slit which rises from the hem to the near top of the thigh? Who would know if her fingers strayed into the area of joy that hid between the top of her thighs.

Who would know if she spread the juices from her already awakening cunt over her fingers? It would be easy to lift that glistening hand to her mouth and suck the musky, honeyed juices from her dark red nails, savouring the saltiness; absorbing the very centre of her being. It would be easy . . .

Almost mindlessly her hands pass over her body. Her tits heave as she catches her breath. Then, Emma remembers what HE had said.

The instructions were precise, controlling - "From now on you will only come when you are told to come," HE had written. "Do not think that because I am not present I do not know what is going through your mind. I will know where your hands have wandered. I will know when your mind has given in to your body. I will know when your fingers have caressed the dark, warm recesses of your aching cunt. I will know when you have come."

The words almost shouted from the page. "From this moment you have no rights. You can no longer act like a bitch in heat, giving way to your inner desires. Your only desire will be to serve me; to offer your body to MY needs; to come only when ordered. And if you should come without my permission, you will be punished and punished severely."

For one time-stopping moment Emma almost gives in to the desire of putting those words to the test. She will make herself come, now, moments before his arrival. The cloying, musky odour of her silky cunt will give her away and HE will know she has disobeyed. And HE will punish her. God, she wants him to punish her; to make her beg for discipline, to make her do whatever HE requires.

She is ready to submit to his pleasures and she knows that those pleasures will involve the outright possession and control of her body. HE will make her sob and HE will make her scream, but most of all HE will make her come. Her betraying orgasms will break her spirit, but those orgasms will also fulfil her needs. And she needs to submit.

She can hear her own breath, rasping, full of desire, as her arms hug her waist, squeezing the

very being from her body. She can't stand it any longer; she must give in..

She must move one of her hands downwards and inwards.

She must explore the wet, widening V between her firm, stockinged thighs.

She must turn those pearls of moisture that have formed on her cunt lips into a frothing,

bubbling, rich nectar.

She must form her fingers into a widening, violating pole of exploration.

She must give in to her heaving cunt.

She must give in to her hardening clit.

She must come.

She must come.

She must come.

She must . . .

. . . pull herself back from this maelstrom of want and quieten the ringing that is echoing around her head. She calms her body, but still her mind rings shrilly: "I must stop it," she thought, "or the ringing will drive me crazy. I must stop that noise. I must . . . "

It is then she realises that the ringing is not her part of her imagination. It is not the result of her overactive, over-stimulated mind. The ringing comes from her front door. The waiting is over.

Her master has arrived.

* * * * * * * * * *

Later, as Emma lay naked on the bed, her face pressed into the pillow, her hair wild and fanning around her head, her body aching but satiated, she reflected on how quickly it had all started and how long, how satisfyingly long, it had taken for that first time to be complete.

She had pulled herself back from her sexual reverie and, with a slight stagger, accentuated by the high heels she had chosen to wear, she strode towards the door. In her excitement she almost flung the door open. Then, at the last moment, she managed to control herself and eased it open, just wide enough to reveal the full curves of her body to the man who stood there.

"Emma." It was a statement, not a question. This man was in control of himself and ready to control her.

"Yes, " Emma replied. She had intended her answer to be equally as firm, but her anticipation turned her voice into an inward, breathy whisper.

HE smiled.

It was a friendly smile. It was a knowing smile.

But, most of all, it was a controlling smile.

"You are new to this," HE said, "but you will learn. You will learn."

For a moment she wondered what HE meant and then it came back to her. She had been told that she would no longer control her desires. She was the submissive, HE was here to control her body and her mind.

HE was here to teach her to be a slave.

An anticipatory shiver of need swept across her being.

"Yes . . . "

She paused.

"Yes . . . master."

HE smiled again.

"You learn quickly. You will make a fine pupil."

HE pushed against the door and strode past her, indicating with a dismissive nod of his head that she should close them off from the outside world.

"And an even finer slave."

Emma followed his unspoken order. The click of the door bolt as it locked in place sounded like a gunshot in her ears. They were now alone, cut off from prying eyes, and Emma knew that anything could, and would, happen to her.

And there was nothing she could do to stop it.

It was almost as if HE was reading her mind.

"What we start today will be intense, but satisfying, for you as well as for me. There will be times when you will want the pleasure to stop. There will be times when you want the pain to stop.

At these times you should remember two things.

Firstly, I know what you need and I will never take you beyond those needs. And, secondly, you are only awakening to your needs.

Your mind may tell you that it can take no more, but your body language will give you away. I know what you need, and I will not stop until your needs have been fulfilled.

I will take you to a point where you want time to stop so you can indulge yourself in the pleasure and pain.

I WILL control your every desire. And YOU will submit to my every demand."

For a second, Emma wanted to run, to escape from what was to come, but her legs refused to respond, rooted to the spot, and . . .

"You are ready" (it was a statement with no hint of a question)

. . . then it was too late.

One moment HE stood before her, breaking her will with his eyes.

The next HE was pressed close behind her, his breath playing on her neck . . .

Yes, oh yes, this is what she wanted

. . . his hardening cock pressing into the deep, rounded cleft of her buttocks.

It was happening now, right now, and there was nothing she could do, even wanted to do, to stop it.

Briefly his arms entwined around her waist, holding her gently, holding her firmly.

Emma whispered; "

Yes, master, I am ready. Yes. Oh, yes."

Her submission acted as a signal to him and from that point everything turned into a blur of want and satisfaction.

Suddenly . . .

His hands rose from her waist and gripped the lapels of her blouse.

Suddenly . . .

HE pulled outwards.

There was the sound of ripping silk fabric and pearl buttons popped from their anchorage and clattered on the wooden floor.

She leaned back against him, shocked, surprised, ecstatic. Her breasts, moulded by the half-cups of her uplift bra, heaved with a desire that engulfed her.

Her areolae, brown and round, surrounding the nubs of her gorgeous nipples, puckered into tiny goose-bumps, apparently declaring some element of fear, but in reality revealing her need, her want, her pleasure.

Suddenly . . .

Again the rending of cloth as HE ripped her bra apart, letting it fall to the floor. Released from their restraint, Emma's tits almost leapt forward in a bid for freedom. She knew how gorgeous they were. Hadn't she caressed them often enough as she forced herself to climax?

But her master's reaction told her that these firm, thrusting mounds, surmounted by the tiny, thrusting peaks of her puckered nipples were something special.

As his hands slipped under the slight overhang of her jutting tit-flesh HE murmured into her ear, "Very good, very good. You have maintained your body well, Emma. I shall enjoy manipulating these," (HE cupped her swelling orbs from underneath), "I shall enjoy breaking their spirit."

The menace in his voice forced a shiver of fear down Emma's spine. A bead of sweat ran from her neck, disappearing into cleft of the deep valley between the tetons of her throbbing, wanting breasts.

"You are too proud of these," HE said, cupping her warm globes in both hands. "Later, it will be necessary to break that pride and punish these objects of your pride. Don't you agree? Slave."

Emma nodded her head and softly, fearfully mouthed,

"Whatever you wish to do to me will be for my own good."

And she suddenly realised that now there was no turning back. Whatever HE wanted to do to her she would accept it would joyfully.

And HE knew that she would give in to him and to the fulfilment of her wildest dreams.

Now, his hands enfolded her exposed, unprotected tits.

Now, HE was stroking them, caressing them, giving them the stimulation she desired. Now, HE allowed her hard, pointing nipples to slip between his second and third fingers. Now, . . . now . . . Emma felt her pleasure rising as his hands possessed her, stimulating her heated, heaving, swelling globes of flesh.

"Now,"

she thought, drifting downwards into lustful passion,

"Now. I must come now."

And again HE read her mind, gauging the pulse emanating from her body.

"Not now slave. NOT now, Emma. It is too soon.

And I have not given you permission to come.

Remember, you come when I tell you to come and ONLY when I tell you to come." Swinging her round, HE kissed her fully and forcefully on the lips.

"It is time to prepare you for your initiation."

Briefly, she felt his erect cock, this time pushing through the cloth of his trousers against her stockinged thigh. Then she gasped at his self-control and the ferocity of his actions. Gripping the nubbins of her nipples between thumb and forefinger, HE pulled her body, tits strained and extended, forwards, forwards, forwards into the main body of the house.

Emma almost screamed, as she teetered after him, her tits stretching with unimaginable elasticity. Only the fact that she knew that this was the lower limit of the pain she was to experience, the mere start of the pleasure that was to be offered to her, prevented her from shattering the calmness with the ruptured shriek of her voice.

Tripping on her spiked heels she almost fell to floor on her knees. Only the forward rush, her tits extending further and further as HE dragged her deeper into the house, helped her keep her balance for just long enough.

Just long enough for her to endure the throbbing pain in her teats as HE pinched harder to maintain his grip.

Just long enough for her to endure the constant flow of torment as she felt her boobs pull further and further away from her body.

Just long enough for them both, master and submissive, to reach a large glass-topped table that dominated the centre of the room.

Forcefully, HE threw her, face down, on to the glass top, releasing the grip on her throbbing nipples. Her tits slapped and spread as they bounced off the cooling glass, the iciness refreshing her strained boobs.

Her relief did not last long.

"You are wasting time, foolish slave", Emma heard him thunder. "Do you want me to punish you now?

Do you want me to postpone the pleasure that I have been promising you?"

"Please master, no,"

Emma heard herself beg.

"Please, master. Please let me be pleasured, so that I can endure the punishment I so desire. "

HE laughed. "You are mistaken, child, if you feel you can withstand the punishment I am going to give you. You will beg for release, you will scream with torment, you will faint with pleasure. But you will not endure."

His laugh turned to coldness. "However, I need to possess your body to control your soul, so first the pleasure. Slowly." Emma's whole being thrilled at the prospect, but she knew better than to voice her needs.

"How do want me, master? How shall I display myself?"

She scrambled onto the glass tabletop, pressing her face to the glass, bearing the weight of her upper torso on her bulging, spreading tits.

"Very good, slave," HE assented. "I said you would be a good pupil. Now let us both see what else you have to offer."

HE circled the table and pulled a full-length mirror in front of her, so that by lifting her head slightly she could see her prostrate body, kneeling on the glass. As she took in the provocative sight of her abasement, she became absorbed, even fascinated, by the vision of her reflected body; her ass, thrusting in the air beneath the crimson skirt; her firm thighs, slightly spread to hold the weight of her lower torso. So enthralled was she by the sight of herself; offered as a kneeling sacrifice to her master, that the added reflection in the mirror took her by complete surprise.

* * * * * * * *

In her justified reverie over her abased, but erogenous body, Emma had failed to notice that I had removed my clothing. Now I stood, erect behind her, totally nude save for a wide leather metal-studded belt around my waist. Some masters wear leather masks to hide their faces from their slaves. I had no need of such fancies.

Control is maintained over the submissive subject if they are able to see every expression of the person who guides their every action. I stood there taking in her rounded curves, reflecting on her spirit and how it would soon be broken.

Everything was going as planned.

This daring woman, who had bravely offered herself to a stranger, was soon to be broken to the point where any demand would be obeyed.

But first she had to be made to realise that this relationship was about pleasure as well as dominance. By offering her pleasure now she would begin trust me and then, and only then, could I break her disobedient streak.