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toys around me within reach, and watch as the pictures in my mind begin.

Itā€™s times like these when my limits are blown away. With my eyes closed, and my toys doing their work, I can be such a dirty girl, baby. I do things Iā€™d never imagine doing in real life.

Like most people, itā€™s sometimes one scenario, sometimes another, and sometimes they vary a little, but basically I come back to the same four or five different ones.

Okay, so I guess I better write them down nowā€¦

Yes, Iā€™m nervous, but Iā€™m grinning.

Here goes nothing!

One of the fantasies I have is one that I think most people have at one time or another. It comes from being a bit of a show-off, I guess. I know I have a nice body and I notice the looks my legs get. It turns me on, and I sometimes have the devilish thought of flashing. 

When I was younger, I would fuck myself to the thought of flashing at traffic or exposing myself to the boys at football games. Then while at college I would wonder if I could flash a good-looking guy while having lunch in the cafeteria. Iā€™ve also fantasised about being exposed on a city street or a crowded train. Iā€™ve never done anything like that, but the thought of it drives me nuts.

The thought of finding myself exposed in front of a group of people, their eyes devouring me, their cocks getting hard and their pussies getting wet, excites me a lot. I canā€™t help it. Iā€™ve always loved the look of a hard cock in a pair of jeans, baby, you know that. But even more so, itā€™s the thought of what they think of me that makes me cum. Like, ā€œLook at that girl, what a slut...ā€ 

God, Johan, the thought of actually doing itā€¦ 

I masturbate to that fantasy a lot. 

A fairly recent fantasy, in a similar vein, is not only to be exposed to, but also used by, our friends. I find a lot of our friends very attractive, for a variety of reasons. I mean, some of them are quite good looking, and knowing most of them share this lifestyle and would use me wellā€¦ ohhh, it makes me shiver when I think about it. 

Please understand, Johan, that there is no one I desire to be with other than you. I donā€™t ā€˜wantā€™ anyone else. But if I were ā€˜madeā€™ to please them, or ā€˜usedā€™ for their pleasure, I wouldnā€™t be responsible for enjoying it, would I? 

Because, baby, thatā€™s exactly what happens.

They use me. Iā€™m touched by them, felt, caressed, spanked, played with, and fucked. But Iā€™m unable to move or touch them in any way. 

Iā€™m at their mercy. 

In my fantasy, Iā€™m naked, blindfolded, gagged and tied down tight. I canā€™t do anything to stop what happens. 

Being unable to tell who is doing what, and not being able to do anything about it, is a major fantasy for me, and I love the orgasms I get from that one.

Ugh. Just a minuteā€¦

Okay, back again. Iā€™m shaking my head ā€˜cause I can hear you chuckling.

The third fantasy involves other women. Whereas the last fantasy usually has women present and involved, itā€™s not the same because itā€™s impersonal. In this fantasy, I have to satisfy others. 

Iā€™ve never had an experience with another woman, and I have no desire to initiate one. But Iā€™ve looked at other girls and thought they were attractive, and Iā€™ve wondered if they taste the same as I do. But thatā€™s all.

You and I both know Iā€™d never do anything like this without your permission, but even with your blessing, if someone I found attractive asked me, I would definitely say ā€˜noā€™. Even though Iā€™m curious about it, I couldnā€™t admit to wanting it. What Iā€™m getting at is, Iā€™ve never seen myself as wanting it or liking it. To eat pussy, I mean, baby. I mean, you guys do it, and seem to like it. So it couldnā€™t be too bad. Oh, I donā€™t know! In my mind, I always thought you had to be a lesbian to want to do that. 

But you see, if I didnā€™t have that choice, if I ā€˜hadā€™ to or if I was ā€˜madeā€™ to, I could do it. Then if I liked it, I wouldnā€™t be a lesbian. Would I? I know I should be more open-minded. Blame the nuns, baby. (winks)

Anyway, it makes me wet just thinking about that.

I also have a fantasy where I am taken roughly by a group of men I donā€™t know. The idea of being gangbanged and treated like a slut by strangers makes my cunt spasm. In my fantasy, I try to talk them out of it but they are ruthless and unstoppable. I submit and canā€™t help myself, soon becoming their willing, insatiable whore. 

There are usually three, but often more. Sometimes it is many more. Sometimes they are black. Sometimes there are spectators who yell abuse and humiliate me. My fantasies donā€™t often involve men with huge cocks, but my gangbang fantasy usually does.

My pussy is creaming again, baby, back in a sec.

Okay, back again.

Johan, as you know, my last fantasy is a rape fantasy. I donā€™t know if this is a common fantasy; Iā€™ve never asked any of my friends about it. Iā€™d be too embarrassed to ask them. It makes me feel queasy thinking about it and it was the hardest one to admit to you. 

I canā€™t reconcile it. I donā€™t want to be raped. I really donā€™t. The thought of being actually raped scares the crap out of me. It would be a horrific experience that I wouldnā€™t wish on my worst enemy. 

But what if, in the back of my mind, I knew it was ā€˜play-rapeā€™? If I ā€˜knewā€™ I was safe?

In my fantasy Iā€™m surprised by someone or caught doing something I shouldnā€™t be doing, and then force-fucked. I donā€™t want to like it, I fight and try to stop it happening, but I am overwhelmed, and before long my body betrays me, and he knows it and despite myself, I canā€™t help it and I cum and cum and cum. 

The whirlwind of force and being able to do nothingā€¦ God. 

The thought is so frighteningly erotic. 

But Johan, please, this is important to me, babyā€¦

If you see fit to fulfill this particular fantasy, I would need you there. I would need to be able to see you, so I knew I was safe. 

In fact, I would prefer it if you were there for all of them. 

The thought of you seeing just what a slut I am makes me even wetter.

All I know is, when I fuck myself, it is usually one or more of these fantasies that I have. As you know, I love to cum, baby. I just love it. And when the thought of these scenarios passes through my mind, I cum so hard. Asking you to make them come trueā€¦ God, Johanā€¦ my tummy flips, but my pussy is so wet. 

But Johan, I love you. Nothing will change that. My crazy thoughts, dreams and fantasies donā€™t change the fact that I love you with every square inch of my heart. If nothing comes of this, then I wonā€™t be unhappy. 

Iā€™ll only be unhappy if it changes us. 

So baby, that is the confession of my fantasies, and I give you permission to do with them what you wish. Whether that is to make one or more, or a combination of them, come true, or to ignore them altogether. As I submit to you, that is your choice.

One last thing: I trust you, Johan, but baby, please donā€™t lose this letter. I trust you to look after my secrets as you do me.

Your loving wife, 

Shannon

xxx

ps. You know the amazing thing? I donā€™t have any secrets any more. Not one. Iā€™m scared and hot about what might happen, but Iā€™m also strangely relieved.



Iā€™d been sitting on our bed, either looking down or watching Johan read my words. 

I blushed when he looked up from the pages to smile into my eyes. When he looked at me like that, I always felt like I was naked. He looked down again to finish reading.

Finally he sighed and straightened the pages, shaking his head.

ā€œYou are such a naughty girl, you know.ā€

He looked up at me, lust burning in his hot blue eyes.

ā€œGodddā€¦ā€ I thought, as my pussy clenched involuntarily.

I bit my lip.

ā€œIā€™m sorry, Sir,ā€ I said, blushing madly.

He turned around and placed the pages on the bedside table. 

I watched him as he stood and moved around the end of the bed, like a huge cat.

Suddenly he was over me. Heā€™d flattened me on my back and had my hands pinned over my head in an instant. His other hand moved my legs apart but I pushed them back together again, as soon as he reached for the buttons down the front of my thin, floral dress.

He pulled my legs apart again.

ā€œYou are my slut, and my slut has her legs open whenever I want her to have them open.ā€ 

He slapped me on the inside of my thigh.

I shuddered and kept them open, but it didnā€™t stop me trying to get my arms free. 

ā€œYā€¦ yes, Sir.ā€

ā€œOr perhaps you ā€˜wantā€™ me to rip this pretty dress from your body.ā€

He took hold of it in his fist between my breasts.

ā€œYouā€™d love that, wouldnā€™t you?ā€

I swallowed and stopped struggling.

ā€œBut itā€™s one of my favourites, Sir,ā€ I whined.

Surely he wouldnā€™t.

ā€œYou donā€™t think I would?ā€

I looked at him imploringly.

I needed fucking. I didnā€™t need my second favourite dress torn to shreds.

Godā€¦

I could feel how wet I was getting. Iā€™d put my panties back on earlier. They were getting wet and it felt cool as the moisture evaporated from the tight fabric covering my pulsing, wet little cunt.

I started squirming again but he held my wrists tight.

ā€œPleaseā€¦ā€

ā€œPlease what? Please rip your dress to shreds and fuck my ass off, or please let me go?ā€

ā€œThatā€™s notā€¦ā€

ā€œChoose, slut!ā€

ā€œBut!ā€

I tried one more time to wrestle free. In the struggle, he took the neck of my pretty dress in his big hand.

Without warning, he tore my dress from neck to hem.

ā€œNooooo!!!!!ā€

He took my exposed left breast in his hand and crushed it firmly, my flesh bulging between his fingers. 

I bit my tongue and a tear slid down my cheek.

Fuck! I loved that dress!

ā€œMy stupid little slutā€¦ your wet pussy just cost you that dress you knowā€¦ā€

He released my breast and I sighed with pained relief, feeling his fingers gathering the material of my panties into his fist, and stretching them tight up my ass.

ā€œā€˜Let me goā€™, thatā€™s all you had to say, but your wet fucking cunt just wouldnā€™t let you, would it?ā€

ā€œNoooo!!!! Donnnā€™tttt!!!!!ā€

RRRRIPP!!!

Johan tore my bikini panties from my body like they were tissue paper.

ā€œOpen your dirty mouth, my little slut.ā€

He brought the shredded garment to my lips and pressed it between my teeth, pushing more and more of it into my mouth.

As it was pushed in, I pressed my tongue against it to stop myself from choking and immediately tasted myself. 

He prodded the last strip into my mouth and lifted my chin with his finger until my mouth closed around them. I had a pair of my own wet panties in my mouth. Iā€™d never done that before.

I swallowed instinctively.

I felt like I was on another planet.

My pretty little blue panties were being used as a gag to shut me up. 

I moaned softly and my eyes rolled back into my head.

I arched my back and spread my legs wider, lifting my pussy into the air in search of sensation.

 

God, I so wanted it.

I was on fire!

ā€œSMACK!!!ā€

My eyes flew open and the air whooshed from my lungs as pain radiated out from my pussy.

ā€œHe SLAPPED my CUNT!!!ā€ I thought, fighting to take a breath.

My chest shuddered as two of his thick fingers drove straight up my slick tunnel, and the scream that had been building burst straight into the back of the gag, muffled against the fabric, now sodden with my saliva.

He

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