The box arrived on a Tuesday morning. It was wrapped in inconspicuous brown paper, and her address was printed with black marker in a grade-schooler-ish handwriting. Had she not recognized the return address, she might have been quick to assume that this was a prank, or perhaps a dangerous delivery - after all, these were troubled times, were they not?! - but she DID recognize this particular delivery. It was from her lover. Her Master. Sir. Just a couple of nights ago, he had foretold of this package's arrival, so she blushed hotly as she spirited it into her house.
Upon removing the outer paper, a note fell into her lap. She smiled when she saw her name written in his own manly handwriting on the parchment paper, the contents of the letter sealed from her gaze with sealing wax. 'Not many men in this day and age even know what sealing wax IS,' she thought, 'let alone know how to use it!' She was constantly amazed at his worldliness, even though he boasted of being from a small town. She knew his refinement came from his job as a well-traveled oil executive which took him, literally, all over the world. Where his knowledge of how to take control of her mind, her body, her spirit came from, she wasn't sure - but she knew she couldn't live without it! With each play session, it was as if he stepped more and more into her skin.
At first, his absences were just a part of the foreplay... they were still very connected even while he was away, and that was satisfying to her; but this latest separation had shown her exactly how much his physical presence was beginning to mean to her. The arrival of this box signaled the end of that separation, and so, trembling, she broke the seal and read:
"My dearest, beautiful Little Girl,
All month as I have been traveling the world, you have serviced me well over the telephone and over the computer. Now is the time that your service shall be rewarded: I have been collecting these lovely toys as a chronicle of my trip as well as for our use together the next time my eyes look upon you.
Open the box. Inside you will find a lovely leather collar for that gorgeous neck of yours, aged leather wrist and ankle cuffs w/ restraints, and a handmade leather paddle all of which were made in Italy; black silk undergarments (I hope I remembered your size) from my trip into Thailand; a lovely emu feather duster and a soft llama wool mitt from my dip into Australia; the finest massage oil and herbal tea that will enhance our mood - blended especially for us by a talented Chinese herbalist; a handmade translucent gold silk robe sewn especially for you in India, as well as some lovely candles and soft music from different areas that I have visited. I expect you to have the "toys" placed near our bed ~ as I use each of them on you, I will tell you how I acquired them Light the candles and have the music playing softly in anticipation of my return. I will be at your door in three days. I want you waiting for me in the robe and undergarments ONLY.
Dab some of that wonderful perfume on your temples, behind your ears, on your breasts, behind your knees. You are not to cum for these three days, but I will be checking in nightly so that you may service me with some of your lovely hot, wanton voice. You may NOT touch yourself during our phone play, my love, because if you do, I know you will cum and I want you on the edge of insanity by the time I get there. I WILL check you thoroughly to make sure you have prepared as I have instructed ~ for it is I who wants the pleasure of pushing you into the abyss.
~~Sir~~
"
She took the note and held it to her nose, breathing deeply. His scent still lingered: sandalwood, musk, a hint of citrus. Her nipples hardened as if something animalistic deep within her was awakened by merely coming in contact with his scent. She felt herself get wet, and it was all she could do to keep her hand from straying between her legs. Her eyes went back to the note: "...for it is I who wants the pleasure of pushing you into the abyss..." and she groaned as her hand fell silently onto the cushion. If she touched herself, he would know.
The smell of leather began to permeate the room... mingled with jasmine, lavender, and other exotic fragrances. She placed the box on the floor at her feet and reached in. The cool softness of the silk garments met her fingertips first... she pulled each of them slowly from the box and blushed as she thought of their silkiness against her bare skin, knowing that they left very little for the imagination. She realized that in wearing them, she would have to overcome her own body image issues, and she hoped that she could comply... and hoped even more that he wouldn't be disappointed in what he saw. Reaching back inside, she ran her hand against the leather cuffs and they spoke to her of him: strong, soft, cool to begin with but warming with contact, gently binding... the metaphors kept pouring through her head like water from a broken urn.
She gently lifted the bindings from the box, the buckles clinking together in a melodious rhapsody. The four leather cuffs were trimmed in some sort of very soft fur linings, and the leather collar was hand woven into the most intricate pattern, the tiny brass buckles and the small ring where a leash would snap onto it was the only indication that it was a collar and not a piece of jewelry. She laid these pieces across her lap, and reached back into the box and slowly lifted the leather paddle into her right hand. Swinging it gently, she brought it against her left had with a resounding "SLAP"... her whole being tingled at the thought of how that would feel against her bare ass. Quickly, she sat it aside and reach in once again to lift another treasure from its confines.
This time a different smell hit her nose. Green tea, herbs... distinctive yet indistinguishable at the same time. She realized this must be the tea that he spoke of that was blended to "enhance our moods". A small tag written in Chinese was attached. 'Must be the instructions' she thought as a faint smile passed across her lips and she quickly sat the container on the coffee table. She'd take that to the kitchen shortly. A beautiful hand-blown flask that held a jasmine scented oil was retrieved from the box, then another which held a lavender oil. She found the tapes: music from India, Japan, Ireland... 'my God,' she thought, 'where all has he been?!' The ring of the telephone jolted her back from her reverie.
Sitting the flasks on the table she ran to pick up the phone. She made it by the third ring, his voice greeted her, "I wondered if you were there."
She blushed hotly, "Yes, I am here. I got the box..."
"M-hmmmm" he said, "I knew you would. Today is day one. Remember what I told you in the letter... no touching. Now, what do you think of my choices?"
She sighed audibly and spoke almost in a whisper, as if afraid the neighbors might hear her, "What made you think of all this? It's so... so... uh... so NAUGHTY"
"Precisely, my dear Little Girl," he said quietly, "wait until you hear their stories! Wait until I use them on you... oh the music your voice and body will make!"
Her knees threatened to buckle under her, "ooohhhhhhhhhhh..." she whispered into the phone, "please, sir... just hearing your voice... I need t-t-t-ooo..."
He boomed, "DON'T YOU TOUCH YOURSELF! Just listen to me... listen to me breath... listen to me touch my cockkkkkmmmm... ohhhhhhhh... I'm thinking of your hand, my dearest... so warm... talk to me..."
She collected her thoughts, clearing her throat and, in her best phone sex voice, said, "oooohhhh, yessss... your cock is so hard in my hand... I want to taste you... feel my lips glide over the head... " She heard his breath quickening... his hand began to make the slapping noise that indicated she was on the right track. "Baby... you taste so good to me... feel my mouth running up and down the length of you... taking your balls one at a time into my hot mouth... "
He groaned at the thought, and she knew by the tone in his voice that he had already worked himself up somewhat before calling her. It only took a few minutes of her hot talk before she heard his voice begin to get huskier, his breathing more raspy. She knew then he was close.
"I want you to cum for me, Sir... cum all over your Little Girl... anoint me with your jui..."
His strangled cry cut her off. He loved it when she would submit to being covered in his offering... to gratefully kneel before him streaked with his cum.. "OOOOOHHHHH GODDDDDD!" he shouted. His breathing grated in his lungs. He needed that release... and he knew hearing him cum that hard would make her crazy with desire. He was right.
"Are you okay, sir?" she innocently asked, her voice dripping with lust, knowing full well that he was more than okay.
"Oh, yesssss... I'm wonderful. And I'm late. I have to go. I will call you tomorrow." And just like that, he was gone. The abruptness of his departure was not all that unusual, but on this occasion, it left her with a dull emptiness inside her. She didn't know yet what to make of that feeling. Silently, she dressed for a regular day at the office, but her mind would rarely be on work.
The next three days were a whirl of activities, all carefully planned by her to keep her mind occupied on things other than what pulsed within her loins. The dull ache that began with his abrupt phone call was quickly escalating into a full-scale bonfire within her; with each phone call his voice fanned the flames higher and higher. "Oh how I cannot wait to hear your groan with each swat of the paddle..." he would whisper. "I cannot wait to feel your delicately strong hands rubbing that oil onto me... slipping and sliding..."
The dampness of her panties was indication as to how he was able to get into her head and bring her to the brink: teasing, cajoling her to touch herself without saying the actual words. Yet, at the end of each call, he suddenly turned off the charm and just WENT as if he had something to say that caught in his throat, and this kept her slightly off-balance. She didn't know exactly what to expect when Friday rolled around and he would be standing at her door. The mystery of it all scared her a little: she was very much one to like things to be laid out neatly, predictably. But their relationship had been anything but predictable.
