Fantasies

A young couple, their marriage in trouble, share their most intimater fantasies with each other. Far more loving D/s than BDSM

*

As she awoke from what had been a very fitful night's sleep Julie was more starkly aware of the unease that she had been experiencing more frequently over the past several months. She hadn't before been able to put a finger on it. It had just been an increasingly unsettling feeling that something wasn't quite right, that something was changing, and not for the better. For the most part she had tried to ignore this feeling and put it out of her mind, but that had been before the events of last night. She and Ryan had been married for five years, and she had always believed that they were very content. She was certain that they loved each other. She had no doubt of her love for him, and he was always assuring her, both verbally and in a myriad of other ways , of his devotion for her.

But over the last year or so some things had started to feel different. While their respective jobs had become more hectic and stressful, their time together at home at night had always been a refuge from all of that. Of late though, and maybe longer, it seemed to her almost as if something was missing, or even worse, that something had been lost.

Ryan certainly never voiced such concerns, and they still shared in all the details large and small of their lives with each other. But slowly, over time, they had stopped being as spontaneous, or doing many of the things they had once done together. She had even at times seemed to sense that he was withdrawing, or, if she even dared to consider it, losing interest.

Although obviously her darkest fear she could never really believe that Ryan could be unfaithful. He was just not the type, even if she had to suppose that all spurned women likely felt that way beforehand. But he still spent all of his free time at nights and on weekends with her. Whenever they did things with their many friends they did them together, and there was just very little if any unaccounted time or events in his life of which she was unaware. And he continued to dote on her almost all of the time, even if his heart didn't seem quite as into it as it once had.

Maybe it had all become too routine. She had tried never to place many demands on him, and he certainly never placed any on her. They both just went about doing what they felt needed to be done, helping each other when it seemed to be necessary, rarely arguing, but also rarely discussing what each other might want or need. It had become very comfortable, but perhaps no longer very satisfying.

Unfortunately, the area where this all seemed to manifest itself the most was in their sex life. Although neither of them had ever been the most imaginative or robust of lovers, they had always seemed to enjoy their intimate moments together. Except for some occasional experiments in positions their lovemaking was, for the most part, fairly traditional, and of late, or possibly even longer, it had become almost rote and by the numbers. There were an increasing number of times recently when she found herself faking orgasms so as not to disappoint him and thus have him fail to enjoy himself. Despite this, there were more and more times when they were making love that he seemed to be somewhere else. This never seemed to decrease his physical effort, but no matter how much harder he worked, the results were becoming less and less. Then, last night, even with one of her more energetic performances, he continued to pump, and pump, and pump away, until he finally softened within her, pulled out in failure, and before rolling over to fall asleep gave her a sheepish and embarrassed grin, a peck on the cheek, and said only, "Sorry ... I guess I just don't have it tonight."

And so Julie had tossed and turned and fretted through the rest of the night with little sleep of her own. What was going wrong? Why were they failing? What was missing? She knew that there was nothing in the world that she wanted more than to make him happy, and she truly believed that he felt the same toward her. But somewhere along the way they had lost a connection, a spark that kept the flame within both of them roaring, and now she really feared that they were unconsciously, and unwillingly, drifting apart.

What could she do? She had to think of something. Do something. Anything. She turned it over and over in her mind, but could come up with nothing. There was little if anything the either wouldn't or didn't do for each other, as long as they knew what the other wanted and needed. This last thought brought her up short. As long as they knew what the other wanted and needed. Where did Ryan go in his mind when they were making love? Did she know? She had never thought to ask, had never thought it necessary. And he had never inquired it of her either. Maybe it was something that they both needed to know. Certainly now.

A seed of an idea had begun to sprout in her head, and the more it grew the more right it seemed. It was not something that she would have ever considered before, and she wasn't sure that she could convince Ryan to go along. But something had to be done, had to be tried before things were too far gone. She had to make him see that, and then maybe he would give her developing plan a chance. She vowed to bring it up to him the very next morning at breakfast, before she lost her nerve. With that resolution she had finally been able to drift off for a few moments of precious sleep.

********

The next morning Ryan seemed unusually solicitous and chatty. He seemed to her to want to talk about everything and anything except what she most dearly wanted to address. They were well into breakfast, and his dissertation on an upcoming meeting at work, when she felt that she would soon lose whatever opportunity and courage she had. She swallowed hard, clenched her fists, and interrupted him in mid sentence, something she almost never did.

"Ryan, about last night ..."

He made no attempt to pretend that he didn't know what she was referring to, which told her all that she needed to know about his loquaciousness this morning.

"Oh Jules, I was just very tired last night. No biggie." He paused, and then looked at her hopefully, almost plaintively. "You seemed to enjoy it though."

"How much do you think I could enjoy it when I know that you didn't?"

"It's not that I didn't enjoy it. Like I said, I was just tired."

"Lots of things seem to be becoming more and more tired these days. And not just in bed."

He was suddenly more wary. "What do you mean by that?"

"Oh Ryan, it's just that I'm afraid that things are getting tired between us. Getting stale. That we need something new and exciting to wake us up. Like we used to be."

"I'm not quite sure that I know what you mean, Jules."

That he didn't outright try to contradict or argue against her basic premise spoke volumes, and gave her the needed strength to continue with her plan.

"I'm not sure that I understand it all either, but I just sense that we need a change, something to get us going again, before we move too far apart and can't hold on."

"Don't you think you're overstating things a bit."

"No I don't, Ryan, I really don't ... I'm really afraid that last night was just a symptom of something deeper, some need that we're not meeting in each other that's vitally necessary and important. And it we don't try to find it, it'll be lost, and we might be lost as well without it."

"And how do you suggest we find this supposed need?"

Now for the crux of it. She had gotten this far. Could she get over the hump?

"I think that we start with the most obvious symptom."

"What do you mean?"

She took a deep breath, and took the plunge.

"Where do you go when we're making love, Ryan?"

Now he was more cautious than ever.

"What are you talking about?"

"I think that you go into a fantasy world, and it's not the real me that you're thinking about at that moment, but something else that excites you even more."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh come on, of course you do. And don't you think that I have fantasies too. That's what I'm talking about. I want to know your fantasies, especially your most intimate, exciting and closely held one that turns you on like no other. And I want you to know mine" When he didn't respond immediately she pressed ahead with the clincher. "And then I want us to act them out. Together."

"Oh Jules, that's just silly." He finally responded.

"No. It's not. I've never been more serious. Please Ryan. We need this. I need this. Look, I'll make it easy for you. You can go first. Tonight after dinner you tell me your fantasy, your most real and intimate fantasy, the one that has been drawing you away from me, and then I'll act it out for you. To bring you back to me."

"Julie ... I just don't know."

"But I do. My love, this is really important to me. For both of us. And then tomorrow night I'll tell you my fantasy and you can act it out for me. We've got to give it a try. We've got to give something a try, and this just seems like the right start. What do you say? Please Ryan. For me. For us."

He looked down and was silent for several very long moments before a barely audible "Okay. I'll try."

She heaved a huge sigh of relief.

"Great. Tonight then. And feel free to bring anything you need to enhance it all."

He could only nod.

******** HIS

At work that entire day, Julie's emotions alternated from periods of nervousness, to giddiness, to moments of sheer terror. What could she have possibly unleashed with all of this? She had frankly been surprised that Ryan hadn't been more resistant and put up more of an argument against the whole idea. That he hadn't, indicated to her that he also perceived a problem and wanted to do something about it. She even thought that despite his obvious anxiety and reluctance he might actually be looking forward to this evening's experiment. She certainly hoped so.

Underlying her own varying emotions was a clear and undeniable sense of excitement. She found herself constantly wondering what his fantasy might be, and what she would be asked ... no make that what she would enthusiastically offer to do ... to make it all come to life. Might he envision her as a prisoner, whom he would then ravage against her will? No, she knew him well enough to believe that this would not be his type of thing. Perhaps he would like his little Miss Prim and Proper wife to act like a low class floozie and slut, vamping before him shamelessly. Or even worse, would he want her to be a stripper performing a pole dance for him before seducing his darkest desires. Whatever he came up with, as long as it wasn't dangerous to either one of them, and she was positive he would never contemplate that, she promised herself that she would do her utmost to make it real and special for him. It was that important. For both of them.

As they both enjoyed cooking they tended to alternate preparing their meals. This night Julie had decided to get home early to be the one to make dinner, in part to help settle the butterflies in her own stomach, but mostly because she thought that Ryan would have more important concerns on his mind. When he arrived home, and they dined on the light, almost gourmet fare that she had prepared, she found that, as opposed to his verbosity of the morning, now he was more quiet and pensive. She realized that this was going to be more difficult for him than she had supposed, and that she was going to have to help him get through it, at least in the beginning. And waiting any longer was only going to make it that much harder. It was literally time to take the bull by the horns.

"I'll take care of the dishes and cleaning up later Ryan." She announced. "I just can't wait any longer. I'm so excited, and the suspense is killing me. Let's go into the living room and get started."

She gave him her most dazzling smile and added "Please." and then led the way into the living room where she settled down on the couch as he ambled in after her and sat, bolt upright, on the edge of the easy chair across from her, looking for all the world like a nervous job applicant at an interview that he knew was going to go badly.

The silence was deafening. Neither one of them appeared to know how to begin. After several long moments, Ryan broke the ice.

"Jules, this is all really embarrassing."

She felt it slipping away already, and knew that she had to come up with something fast.

"Why would it be embarrassing for two people who love and are committed to each other to want to share their most inner selves and desires with each other. I feel like I might only know half of my husband, and I dearly want to know and have all of him. And I want him to know and have all of me. It's really that important, Ryan. Our marriage needs this. I need this. I need you. All of you." She finished with her most encouraging smile.

Ryan nodded and then bit his upper lip. "Okay. You win ... you want to know my most sincere ... my deepest fantasy..." he hesitated once again, truly torn and terrified, but he had promised. And he, himself, had for some time felt the drifting apart, and had always blamed himself for being too weak to share his most secret needs with her, despite an overwhelming desire to do so. He loved her so. He had just forever been so afraid that if he revealed this part of himself, what he was inside, that she would lose all respect for him. That had always been the root of his indecision and reticence, up to this very moment. But she had asked, even pleaded to know, insisting that it was vital. And he so dearly wanted to know as well what she most deeply wished and needed from him. This was an opportunity that was far too important to let slip away. So steeling himself the best that he could, he proceeded.

"I'd like ... ah ... I want ..." he was starting to breathe more heavily, as she continued to smile reassuringly. He finally took a deep breath and gazed over at her. "Julie, what I really desire more than anything in the world ... is to be ..." one last hesitation ...

" your slave."

Of all the scenarios that she had speculated upon, this one had never even approached her various contemplations, and she wasn't exactly sure what he meant. Perhaps buoyed by the fact that she hadn't laughed, or acted in any way incredulous, disgusted, or dismayed, and also that he had gotten the main fact out, he now plowed on much more rapidly.

"I want to be your absolute slave, totally obedient to your will, and completely compliant to your every command ... my existence solely and fully dedicated to your comfort and pleasure, and seeing to your every whim. When not performing some chore or duty in your service, I want to be naked and on my knees at your feet awaiting your next desire. And if I'm away from your presence, and you have need of me for anything at all, no matter how simple or trivial, you merely need to ring this bell" which she hadn't seen before he produced it, and which he now leaned forward to hand to her, "and I will immediately stop whatever I'm doing and rush in, drop to my knees, kiss your foot, and wait silently and patiently for any new orders that you may have for me." He now paused as if to catch his breath, took another deep one, and then plunged ahead. "And Jules, most importantly ..."

She was very proud that throughout this recitation, her smiling, accepting expression had not changed, despite her churning inside. She had to see this through.

"Yes. Go on."

"Although as your slave, I will be solely responsible for every chore, every stitch of work that needs to be done or that you just want done for any reason, my most important function ..." another slight hesitation, " ... will be to be used totally by you. For your intimate pleasure. My lips, my mouth, my tongue, my fingers, my hands ... any part of me at all. Any way, any where, any time that you want. As many times as you want and need." He slowed, and then more softly, "with no thought ever of seeing to mine ... unless it pleases you."

He now stopped completely, looked down at his hands, and then slowly back up at her, almost as if in surrender and defeat. "Well ... what do you think?"

She marveled at the courage and strength that it must have taken for him to have revealed and offered all of that. She didn't really understand much of it, and knew that it was clearly uncharted territory which she might be entering. But she also knew that she had to match his courage. This had all been her idea after all. It was put up or shut up time.

"What do I think? Um ... I think ... um ... that maybe you should ... um ... take off your clothes."

His eyes widened slightly. "You mean here? ... Now?"

"Why not. It seems as good a time and place as any."

He stood up and slowly started to disrobe, watching her closely as if he expected her to stop him at any moment. Before too long he was standing naked before her. As was always the case, she was captivated by his slim and athletic body, which he was now offering to her, in toto, for any use which she desired. She was especially drawn to the ramrod stiff erection that was already jutting forth in front of her.

"One last thing, Julie," he now ventured, his face reddening slightly, "I said that I would always be naked in your service, but I don't think that I should be entirely so." He fished something out of his folded pants pocket. "I think that this would be a very necessary piece of equipment." It was a four inch plastic contrivance that mimicked the shape of a flaccid penis.

"What in the world is that?" She exclaimed.

"It's a chastity device, that once applied and locked in place will keep me ... " looking down at his erection as if embarrassed, " ... this ... from being in the way and bothersome to you while I'm serving you."

Somewhat taken aback and bewildered she looked at him in his present state, and then back at the device, and could only mutter, "But it doesn't look like it would fit."

"Yes, well, I guess I have to do something about that, if you give me a moment." With that, he started to slowly squeeze his testicles until she saw him begin to grimace, eventually producing the desired effect as his erection began to soften. He then slipped his testicles and penis through a ring attachment, placed his still somewhat turgid but now shrunken member between the two halves of the plastic cage, attached them together and then to the ring, finally locking them all in place with a tiny padlock, and then handed her the key which hung from a fine gold chain.

"It will always be up to you, and you alone, to decide when and if this will come off, for any reason, but obviously only when and if you might want to use it for your sole pleasure ... or if, on some occasion, you might decide to reward me, however little I will ever be worthy of it."

She looked down at the key and chain in her hand. This was all too much. She didn't know how to respond. But the die had been cast, and there was no turning back. She looked back up at him, standing there nervously and expectantly. She needed more time, alone, to deal with all of this. With nothing else coming to mind, she put the chain and key around her neck.

"Um ... okay then Ryan. I think that the dinner dishes and kitchen need to be cleaned up. Do you think you could ... um .. see to that?"

He graced her with a huge smile, almost of relief. "Of course ... Ma'am. Right away, Ma'am". He then bowed, turned and rushed off to comply with her request.

Julie was in turmoil. For several minutes she just sat there stunned. What had she gotten herself into? She had no idea how to proceed, what to do. But she had to try. After all this she most definitely owed him that. Owed them both that. First though she had to calm herself down, settle her insides. She heard him bustling about in the kitchen and came to a small decision. She took the little bell that he had given her and tinkled it. Almost immediately Ryan came scurrying in, dropped to his knees in front of her, bent forward and down, and kissed the top of one of her shoes. He then remained silent, head bowed before her.