The Bracelet

A hopelessly romantic fantasy of submission but this one is all mine.

“Your Mistress commands you wear this until you are with me again.” was all the note said.

Matthew looked at the contents of the envelope; one handwritten note and a simple black friendship band. He regarded it doubtfully.
‘At least it is subtle’ he thought. Tying it on his wrist was a tricky problem and involved the use of teeth but at last he got it fastened. He turned his wrist this way and that regarding the symbol of his bondage and then pushed it up under his cuff.

On the way into the office he was uncomfortably aware of the extra weight, although tiny, on his wrist. He found his eyes flicking to it as he drove.
“Still, if Mistress demands it” he reflected.

His morning was occasionally distracted by the presence of the bracelet on his wrist. He looked at it curiously wondering whether Rowena had made it herself, and as he thought of her and of seeing her that night a gentle smile fell across his face.
“Nice bracelet”, he looked up, startled, from his reverie as Marie from finance stood by his desk.
“Er, yes, thank you”, he muttered discomforted. Self consciously he tugged his shirt sleeve down to cover the friendship band up and hide the all too visible reminder of his submission.

In the afternoon he found his fingers running over it gently, turning about his wrist. A tiny link to his Mistress, loved but distant. He was her Boy, even here in the middle of his busy day.

Later, at home, he regarded it doubtfully as he stripped naked to have a shower.
‘Until you are with me’ the note had said. He left it on.

It survived unscathed, only a little damp, and he turned his wrist looking at it while he pondered what to wear to meet his Mistress. He pulled out a short sleeve shirt, as it was a warm night, and assessed his image in the mirror critically. The band simple and unobtrusive, yet marking him as an owned Boy, a possession, a plaything, Rowena’s. He was unaware of the pleasure in his face as he hurried out to meet her.

The bar they were meeting at was crowded. She was sitting at a table by herself. She had come straight from work and looked a little tired. Her face transformed as she saw him.
“Matthew”, she smiled with delight. “My Boy” she added quietly as she gestured him into the chair. She held out her hand imperiously and he put his wrist into it, the bracelet clearly on display.
“Good Boy”, her praise was sweet.

Later, much later, he found himself, naked, sore, kneeling at her feet, his head to the floor. Rowena stood over him, all tiredness vanished, refreshed by each moment she had used him, hurt him, played with him.
“Up Boy”, she lifted his head until he was looking up at her. She took his hand and stroked the bracelet knotted around it.
“Shall I release you from this now?”, she asked him gently.

He looked up at her adoringly, “No Mistress, please let me wear it”.

 

Sonnet Of Dreams

At night I let my mind take me to places I want to be, here is a little taste of where I sometimes go.

Sonnet III – Dreams

So lay me down, alone and in my bed,
Far from your side, yet closest now to thee.
Eluding me, sleep circles round my head
And weaves a web of dreams, of what might be.
Vows spoken once, in jest perhaps, I take,
Now hold them to my heart in jealous trust.
Each word of love believe in for love’s sake,
Till breath is gone and body turned to dust.
Restful my eyes are closed, my heart aflame,
As thoughts of love soothe wounds that day made sore.
I drift to sleep now whispering your name,
Secreted in my heart for evermore.
Now dream I thus our hearts always entwine,
Yet will I know the truth of this in time?

© Caitlin 2013

Connection

A simple, romantic sexual fantasy.

They lie together, naked, in bed. She watches eagerly as he kneels up beside her.
“Get a handful of lube” he tells her.
She reaches over and squeezes some into her palm. Without further direction she takes her hand and runs it over his cock. She enjoys the feel of his smooth hardness as she ensures that he is slippery all over. Her palm rolls over the head of his penis in a gentle motion, he is ready for her. Continue reading “Connection”

A Last Goodnight

I wouldn’t really describe this as a sexual fantasy, rather it is a story of love expressed in a peculiarly unique way. It may not be to all tastes but is a story I wanted to explore.

It was the end of the day. A very special day spent together as lovers and friends, but now the sun was setting and it was time for a different kind of loving.
“It’s time for your bath Little One” she told her partner as she stroked his grey hair.
He looked up at his Domme as she stood beside his chair. She looked down at him in return, her eyes full of love. She bent down and kissed his forehead tenderly.

Continue reading “A Last Goodnight”

The Prisoner

Not my best writing, but an idea which will not be silenced.

The Prisoner

Naked, he huddles in his cell
Lost in the dark.
Tortured by demons only he can see.

She enfolds her arms around him
Protecting him from harm.

Sightless, he strikes out in defence
Seeking to hurt.
Torment is all he feels, he senses only pain.
Held, yet he can not feel her touch
She clings to him tightly.

His fingers clawing at her face,
Drawing her blood.
She raises no hand to wipe it away,
She does not loosen her embrace,
Holding him till dawn.

The light streams weakly through the bars,
He lifts his head,
He sees her face, their eyes meeting,
The vigil over, love rejoicing
He knows her touch at last.