The Postman

Every morning she would wake before 7am, even though she knew the postman never arrived before 9:30am. Her first task of the morning would be to write his letter. Taking great care over the format, grammar and spelling, knowing her harshest punishments had been for badly written letters, and she really didn't wish for another. Sometimes it would take her two hours of rewriting to make sure it was perfectly presented. She loved the attention to detail she had to pay with everything she did for him, knowing how disappointed he was when she made a mistake in simple things like letter writing.

She would respond to his previous day's letter, answering any questions he had asked, would list any changes or additions to her calendar, then make comments on her previous day's task. Finally she would add any thoughts or comments she felt relevant. She would write an envelope out, carefully fold the letter, put it in, seal it, measure the position for the stamp, stick it on, seal it, and put it on the unit by the front door ready for posting later that day.

Then she would sit in silence until his letter arrived, she wasn't allowed to listen to music, or bathe, or eat or drink until she had received his letter. So she would sit on the edge of the sofa, wondering what the day would bring, hearing every sound outside, wondering if it was the postman coming up her path, bring her daily instructions, but she lived in a busy street and there would be a lot of extraneous noise. Occasionally she would stand watching by the window, but that just got her even more worked up than she was, and her nerves were always on edge in these moments. So she sat and quietly waited.

Eventually the familiar sound of her front gate opening, and she would leap to her feet, and head to the front door, she would stand for the fifteen seconds it took for the postman to get from her front gate to the door, it was the longest fifteen seconds of her day, she felt like a ten year old at Christmas, full of excitement and anticipation, but twisted with dread in case he had decided to give her a more challenging task than he usually did. As ever she caught the mail as it fell from the letterbox, she was always glad for having a solid front door so the postman wouldn't see how compulsive she had become.

Today there were half a dozen letters, she discarded all but his. Picked the letter opener he had sent her - he hated having envelopes torn open - and went and sat down again as she opened it and carefully removed it. Savouring the anticipation of what his perfectly composed letter would consist of. She had given up inspecting his letters for any sort of errors months before, because his letters were always absolutely perfect. Whenever she read his beautifully styled words she always felt a twinge of guilt that hers were not so perfectly presented.

She carefully unfolded it, between his immaculately spaced headers and footers, was a single word. Wait.

The thoughts ran through her mind of what she was waiting for, that mix of dread and excitement because it was clearly something unusual. He knew she had two days off work, she wondered if she would get to spend the night with him. The thrill of the thought overthrew the fear and dread, it had been so long since they'd had a night together, usually just stolen hours when they could both fit it into their schedules.

Calmly she waited, she wanted a drink, and to brush her teeth, and shower, but she couldn't, she had to sit and wait, and because that was the only instruction she had been given. So she waited.

At just gone 11am she heard her front gate open again, she jumped up and got to the window to see a UPS man walking to her front door, she got to the door and waited for him to knock, then started count to 30 before she answered so he didn't think she'd been waiting, she got to five before she decided she didn't care and just wanted to see what he'd sent her. She opened the door, only then realising she was still in her far too thin and revealing nightie, giving UPS man quite an eyeful. She quickly signed and took the box from him, took it back inside, opened it with the letter opener and nervously opened it.

Inside was another box, with a letter on top. She opened the letter and read it, it was a familiar format that he sent her, a sentence telling her to enjoy her day as she had no restrictions, followed by three lines.

The first line was a time. 7pm.

The second line was a map coordinate, and an instruction to open the box.

The third was another map coordinate.

With that she put the radio on, went and ran a bath, made some coffee, and started about her day, doing all of the normal everyday things that people do. But still with that dread, fear, and excitement of what might be to come that evening.

At 6:55pm she parked her car at the first coordinates, it was a secluded car park at distant back entrance to a large piece of parkland / moorland. At precisely 7pm she nervously she picked up the box from her passenger seat, pushed her seat back so it would fit between her and the steering wheel, turned on the interior light, and pulled open the string holding the box closed, and tentatively opened it. On top was flat sheet of paper, telling her to get out of the car, strip naked, and put on what was in the box. Without hesitation she opened the door, got out of the car, quickly looked around, and pushed the straps of her dress off her shoulders, and dropped it to the floor, took her knickers and bra and shoes off leaned into the car and placed them on the passenger seat.

She pulled the thin silk dress out of the box, looking beneath it, hoping to find underwear, knowing she wouldn't. There was simply a dress, if it could be called that, a new pair of hold ups, and five inch heels and a small silver bag. Quickly she examined the dress, and slipped it up her legs, feeling marginally less exposed as it covered her waist, she pulled it up over her breasts, and slipped her arms in, pulling it straight over her body. Looking down she could easily see every curve and fold of her skin through the almost see through material, the darkness of her large areolas easily visible. Even in the poor reflection in the car window she could make out the darkness of the hair around her pubic bone. She was glad there was nobody around to see her. She quickly opened the box with the hold ups in, and slid them up her legs, sat on the driver's seat as she fastened the strappy heels. Picked the bag up, leaned across to her bag, fished out her mobile phone and handheld GPS unit he had sent her, put the phone in the bag, locked her car, and headed in the direction of the second set of coordinates.

He knew she hated heels, he knew how badly her tall frame walked in them, she knew he would be amused at seeing her tottering along this rough dusklit gravel path as good as naked in this stupid outfit. She felt stupid for being there, she felt stupid for allowing him this control, she felt stupid for feeling stupid. She was a strong woman, she didn't give anyone leeway, she didn't do anything she wasn't absolutely comfortable with. Yet here she was, stumbling down some stupid path going God knows where to do god knows what dressed like a slut. But most of all, she hated how he knew exactly what to do to make her liberate her darkest desires. Fuck she despised how aroused she was right now too.

After five minutes of tottering and swearing at herself the GPS was indicating she was approaching her destination which was apparently on the other side of a hedge that she was walking along. She couldn't remember an entrance earlier so she kept walking, around a small corner there was an opening, she entered and followed the hedge back, the ground was grass which made her walking even more difficult. Ahead there was a bench with somebody sat on it, but even in this light, she could see it wasn't him. Suddenly a fear built up in her, what should she do now? He couldn't be far from where she should be going. Surely he would be watching though, why hadn't he done something to warn her. She put her hand on her bag and felt her phone, wondering whether to call him. The man on the bench saw her, saw that she was hesitating and waved her to him. Not knowing what else to do she walked to him. She stood in front of him, watching him grin as his eyes scanned her body, the grin deepening as they passed her pussy and breasts. As his gaze reached her face he reached into his inside jacket pocket and handed her an unsealed envelope, the front of which had her name in his beautiful writing. She opened it, took out the piece of paper and read it. She was instructed to drop to her knees and service him until he had finished with her, then he would give her a second envelope. She carefully folded the letter, put it back in the envelope, and put it into her bag. She stood for an instant deliberating her options, knowing she had none, she was shocked that he was asking her to do this though, she wondered if he was displeased with her for something and this was a punishment, or if it was he just thought was fun for him to make her do. She realised she had been standing for too long by now and he would not be pleased with her. She put the thought into her head that it was him and dropped to her knees, and tugged at his belt and buttons to release him, he did little to assist her, and she felt her arms tiring as she yanked his jeans down. Eventually she could start, she felt sad and confused as she did unable to comprehend why he would make her do this.

However since this was an instruction from him, she put all of her effort into pleasing him and shortly she felt the unfamiliar spasms and taste in her mouth. She rose, and asked if there was anything else he required. He shook his head as his hand slid up her leg and his fingers roughly spread her lips. With the other hand he took a piece of paper from his pocket and handed it to her, it contained another set of map coordinates. He commented that she had enjoyed that as much as he had, removed his hand and pointed down a narrow path behind her. She turned and walked away, wishing she had a drink to wash his bitter taste from her mouth.

The path and coordinates led to a small overgrown cottage, that looked like it hadn’t been inhabited for a hundred years. The coordinates ended at the foot of the steps, the final instruction was to be facing North-north-west, facing directly away from the cottage.

She stood there as dusk turned to night, her feet aching in her heels, her back aching by the uncomfortable stance they put her in. She was cold and tired, and wished he would hurry up and come to her. She stood as the cold fell and the night deepened, feeling the insects crawling and feeding on her legs. Wanting to lean down and brush them away, but obviously, wasn’t allowed.

Her own shivering from the cold, and the itching bites to her legs distracted her from the sound he must have made approaching her, so the first she knew of his presence was the thick sweet smell of new leather as his hand slid around her mouth, his other hand sliding around her waist pulling her in to him. She was carried around the corner of the cottage where she was blindfolded and gagged then laid down on a cold stone floor. Her arms and legs tied, to what must have been stakes, which were then pulled taught and hammered into the floor.

Something hard and plastic was placed by the side of her head, then a metallic click of a tape recorder button being pressed, and his voice filled her head. Telling her that he was going to train her as a slut, that she should get used to her current attire she would be wearing it much more from now on, the message ended saying that of course, there was one other thing that sluts do.

With that a leather clad hand pulled her dress up to fully expose her mid rift then tore it down to show her breasts too. The words she heard were running through her mind, she was trying to decide whether the hand that had put her here was his, trying to remember his touch, and comparing it to this one, the touch was different, he never touched her like this, he was more forceful, more focused, this hand was focussing in arousing her, which he only ever did to tease her with not allowing her satisfaction. But this was definitely taking her there, she was forcibly shaking from the cold of the stone against her back, her jaw ached with trying to keep warm around the gag. Her nose couldn't keep up with the demand for air, but the gag was too big to allow anything to seep around the side of. Suddenly the leather clad fingers were replaced with a vibrator pushed hard against her, another was pushed into her, the powerful vibrations almost in tune with the shivers that were running through her bones. In a matter of minutes a powerful orgasm flooded her body, this continued for hours, she every touch was a clue to whether it was him or not, every contact with his body evidence as to whether this was him, in some moments she was convinced it was, then in others the touch was so alien she couldn't comprehend him doing such things to her. All the while she fought the cold invading her thoughts, numbing her skin making it ever more difficult to decipher his touch.

Then she heard that metallic click again, and his voice sprung into her ears, she had to concentrate on the words in order to hear them over her own shivering and exhaustion, she was told that she was to not untie herself until she was at home, as this was said she felt the stakes being pulled from the ground initially tightening then loosening the tautness of the rope around her legs and wrists. At being told remove the blind fold and gag, then to go home, the tape was stopped and she heard footsteps disappearing into the night.

She sat up, the bell of the steel stakes ringing against the stone she had been laid out on, she fumbled against the cold in her bones to untie the blindfold and gag, and tried to stand, stumbling and faltering as she tried to make her weakened legs do as instructed. Pulled the thin silk around to cover herself, collected the long steel stakes, cradling them in her arms, her bag and shoes where at the side of her, on the edge of the stone base, she knew she wouldn't be able to walk in them anymore, so picked them up, and took the long walk back to her car.

As she approached her car, she rummaged in her bag for the keys, to find they weren't there. For a moment she panicked, thinking she must have dropped them near the cottage before the walking had started to warm her, but as she approached her car she noticed that it was running, she tried to peer inside to see if there was anyone in, hoping he was there she needed his touch, needed to look in his eyes. The car was empty, just running, she opened the driver's door and a waft of hot air hit her, she sat in, the heater was on full, she smiled as the hot air enveloped her, knowing this was his touch, the gentle side to his malice that kept her so addicted to him.

Once she was a little warmer, she set off for home. Her mind still racing around the events of the evening, still wondering, hoping, that it had been him that had done those things to her tonight, her body was sore and aching, the physical pain of what had been done, and the deeper pain of the cold, finally her whole body was simply exhausted from the convulsions the shivering and orgasming had brought.

At home, she untied the rope from her arms and legs, leaving the stakes on the passenger seat. Collected her bag, and other clothes, at which point she noticed her house keys weren't on the keying, and then saw her front door was slightly ajar.

On the unit by the front door was an envelope, and a steaming glass of milk, she opened it, his perfect words were telling her to go and take a bath, which was already run, and get warmed up. She picked up the glass of milk, holding it firmly between her hands, feeding off its heat, went straight upstairs, got out that that dress, and slid into the hot bubble bath.

As energy and warmth seeped back into her, she started to hear noises in her bedroom and she wondered what was still to come.