The following piece of fiction contains strong sexual
content and is meant to be read only by adults. If you
are not at least 18 years old, or if you are offended by
this type of material, please do not read any further.
"Two Women, Two Fantasies"
Bob Eastbrook paced impatiently around his bedroom, going over
each step of the instructions in his head. It felt strange to be
home in the middle of a weekday afternoon, with the sun streaming
into the quiet, empty house. Finally he heard his wife's car pull
into the driveway, and he stood cautiously at the edge of window
and watched her get out and walk into the garage. Corine looked
the same as she always did, the same elegant, pretty woman he had
been to for ten years, but he couldn't help seeing her in
a different light now. You think you know someone... When he
heard her open the back door and come into the kitchen, he tiptoed
into position behind the bedroom door.
It was five long, fidgety minutes before she came upstairs.
His erection was pressing uncomfortably against the front of his
slacks, his palms were sweaty, and the new cologne he was wearing
was irritating his neck. Finally he heard her on the stairs, and
to his relief she came straight into the bedroom, passing within
inches of him as she brushed past the doorjamb.
When her back came into view he quickly moved behind her and
slapped the strip of duct tape over her mouth. She stiffened with
surprise and let out a high-pitched grunt. Before she could turn
around, he pulled the cloth hood down over her head. She elbowed
him in the ribs and reached up to try to take off the hood, but he
pushed her face-down onto the bed and secured her wrists behind
her back with a short length of nylon cord.
Her instructions clearly stated that she would put up a
realistic struggle, so he was ready when she started bucking and
kicking violently. He sat on her back, using his weight to pin her
on her stomach. Working as efficiently as possible, he used
longer lengths of cord to bind her ankles to her upper thighs,
forcing her knees to remain bent. She kicked back at him a few
times, loosening the cords before they were secured, but he kept
at it and finally managed to get everything tight. Then he untied
her wrists and retied each one to one of her ankles, leaving her
in a kneeling position with her face pressed into the bed and her
ass in the air. She was completely helpless now, and he could
relax a little.
Being careful to remain out of her sight, he removed the hood
and replaced it with a blindfold, letting her breathe more easily.
Bob was a very meticulous man, and before going any further he
took the sheets of paper with their neatly-typed instructions out
of his pocket and reviewed his progress. So far, so good.
He went to his closet and took out the box with the other
Dave Halleran poured a little more oil into his hand and then
continued massaging his wife's right calf, working his fingers
deep into the muscles.
"Mmmm," said Sally. "That's very good."
"Almost done," he said. He had been massaging her for almost
an hour, starting with her neck and working his way down, and his
arms and shoulders ached.
"Remember, you have to spend plenty of time on my feet," said
Sally. "It's in my instructions."
"I'm going to be so stiff tomorrow morning I'll need a massage
myself," he complained. "I'm almost looking forward to moving
onto the next part, if you can believe that."
His eyes strayed to the three black leather straps that were
the only adornment on his wife's naked, gleaming body. One around
her waist, and one around each thigh, just below her crotch. She
was lying on her stomach on the bed, a beach towel beneath her to
catch the excess oil, and she hadn't let him see what was on the
other side of those straps. But he knew.
"Getting? I've been nervous for two days."
She chuckled. "That'll teach you menfolk to start boasting
about your perverted sexual fantasies."
It had all started last week, when their good friends Bob and
Corine Eastbrook had invited them over for dinner. Bob had opened
two bottles of a terrific Merlot, and both had overappreciated
its charms. As was often the case when inhibitions were
eased by alcohol, the conversation had drifted around to sex. He
didn't remember how it had started, but a good-natured argument
had developed over sexual fantasies. Specifically, whether women
had dark, secret fantasies like did.
"How did we get on that subject the other night, anyway?" he
"You mumbled something implying that all had secret
sexual fantasies they never talked about. Then Corine - or maybe
it was me, it doesn't matter since Corine and I were in perfect
agreement - said that women did too."
"Uh huh. And it was Bob who insisted that would always be
happy to hear about their wives fantasies, but not vice versa.
Bob's the one who really got me in trouble."
"I seem to remember you agreeing with him all the way," said
Sally with a smile.
Bob took a pair of scissors out of the box and lifted up his
wife's short cotton dress. To his surprise, she wasn't wearing
any panties. He chuckled to himself - that was Corine for you.
Why ruin a perfectly good pair of just because you're
scouring the deepest recesses of your sexual psyche? He lifted
the dress all the way up over her waist and bunched it under her
shoulders. Her bra unhooked in the back, but he had a perverse
urge to use the scissors instead. Why else would she have
included them in the instructions?
She flinched and whimpered as the cold steel blade slid under
the strap. The scissors made a satisfying tearing sound as they
sliced though the taut cotton and elastic, and the bra sprang
loose. He cut away the shoulder straps for good measure, and the
ruined garment slithered down onto the bed. Then he stood behind
his and spent a few seconds admiring the firm white
globes of her buttocks and the little crescent of darker flesh and
hair between them. Even tied up with her naked ass in the air,
Corine exuded a certain feminine elegance. He suddenly realized
he was rubbing his erection through his slacks.
He reached into the box and pulled out the next item: a
flexible leather paddle. He sniffed it, savoring the new-leather
smell, and then swung it through the air a few times, testing its
weight and balance.
Dave lifted up his wife's foot and poured a little dollop of
oil onto the bottom. Before it could dribble off he worked it in,
digging his thumbs into the skin of her sole. His
overworked forearms burned in protest. Leave it to Sally to come
up with something that sounded easy but turned out to be torture.
"You know, you're the one who came up this whole crazy
scheme," he said petulantly.
"And it was quite a popular suggestion, as I recall. You and
Bob certainly jumped right on board."
He sighed. It was true: when Sally had suggested that she and
Corine should each write down their deepest, darkest fantasy and
then give it to their husband to carry out, he and Bob had started
salivating like dogs at a barbecue.
"It sounded like fun the time," he said. He stole a glance
between his wife's tan, oily thighs, trying to catch a glimpse of
the implement that would soon be violating him.
"I bet it did," she laughed.
"I think this massage violates the spirit of the agreement,"
he complained. He dropped her foot and picked up the other one.
"It's pure pork."
"You know, like when a congressman tacks funding for his pet
project onto to a big proposal, so it won't have to pass a debate.
A full-body massage isn't a dark fantasy, it's just something you
tacked on as a bonus."
"It's all part of the scenario," she said. "I need to be
fully relaxed and pampered before I treat you like a woman."
He grimaced and involuntarily clenched his buttocks. "We've
known each other for ten years, and I never had any idea you'd be
into something like this. I couldn't believe it when I read that
She chuckled. "I can still the expression on your
"Why did you insist that the instructions should be mailed,
She turned her head so he couldn't see her face. "Writing
something down and handing it to someone is almost as personal as
telling them face to face. But dropping it a mailbox makes it
more anonymous. Trust me, I was a psych major, remember?"
"Yeah. You've got me psyched out right now, that's for sure."
He had been standing behind her holding the paddle and rubbing
himself for a couple of minutes now, and she was getting fidgety,
turning her head from side to side, trying to figure what he was
up to. As if she didn't know.
He moved closer, took careful aim, and swung the paddle.
The sound was louder than he had expected, and her entire
body convulsed with the shock of it. She had been quiet for a
while, but now she started squealing into the duct tape again, and
struggling against her bonds. A pink outline of the paddle
appeared on her buttocks, contrasting nicely with her pale skin.
"Perfect," he said to himself with satisfaction.
He gave her five more, and then he stopped to unzip his pants
and pull out his stiff cock. He stroked it as he watched his wife's
ass slowly become redder and redder. He recalled the exact
wording of the instructions: two dozen strokes of the paddle,
delivered slowly and deliberately, hard enough to turn the fleshy
portion of her buttocks bright red.
Dave was still massaging his wife's feet, trying to prolong the
next step as much as possible. He could feel his hands starting to
cramp, and he knew he couldn't hold out much longer. Neither of
them had said anything for awhile, and the silence was making him
"I wonder what Corine's fantasy is," he said. "She seems so
straight-laced and uptight."
"Hah!" said Sally. "I wouldn't say that."
Now he regretted bringing up Corine Eastbrook.
"So what's your best guess?" she asked.
"For Corine's fantasy? Hmm...I honestly have no idea. What
do you think?"
"Oh, I don't know...I guess I sort of see Corine having
exhibitionist fantasies. The quiet ones often do. And attractive
women always like to show themselves off. Corine certainly is
attractive, wouldn't you say, Dave?"
"Mmmm," he said noncommittally, massaging her foot with
"Well anyway, I could see her fantasizing about something
like having sex in public. Somewhere where there would be a
danger of being seen."
Dammit, but Sally was perceptive sometimes. Corine had
mentioned something like that to him just the other week. He
wondered if Sally could possibly know about the affair. No. They
were too careful.
"I really can't envision Corine doing something like that," he
"Oh, I can," said Sally. She heard the tension in his voice
and took a sadistic pleasure in it. She thought back to the
letter she had removed from the Eastbrook's mailbox the other
morning. The one she had replaced with a letter of her own. "I
can imagine Corine putting on a flimsy little summer dress, with
no panties, and then parking in a public place and fucking Bob in
the back seat. Something like that."
"If you say so. I guess we'll find out tomorrow night when
they come over."
"Yes, it should be quite an interesting dinner party," said
Sally with a laugh. She sat up on the bed and smiled at her
husband, who looked quite pale. She took the bottle of oil out of
his lifeless hand and squirted a liberal coating onto the
realistic, flesh-colored dildo between her legs.
"You look so worried, honey. Just relax, this won't a
The End, "Two Women, Two Fantasies"
©1998 by DG (Dionysian1)
1) The idea for this came to me late at night as I was trying to
fall asleep (I have mild insomnia), and it seemed so funny to me that
I laughed out loud. Normally the ideas that I get late at night
seem ridiculous in the morning, but this one still seemed OK.
2) As always, I enjoy getting feedback on my - my email is firstname.lastname@example.org.
3) Thanks to Baird Allen, I have a nice web page with all my
stories on it. Please drop by and check it out some time: