01 - A gift for her
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By Michael
Thursday, May 30th 2002 - 01:33:09 PM
In the box, with a note, was a pair of velvet lined handcuffs, with two little pink keys. The note read:
When a person has the only keys to the lock, what she
locks up with it is her very own possession. Could I
please be your very own possession, Diane? I adore you.
--- Michael.
We had been close friends for years and had been together and talked many times, completely uninhibited and open with each other. But we had never had a date, as such; and there had never been any gesture of affection between us, before. But I had long been coming to adore her. There were hopeful signs all over the place that she had love for me, too. Today, as I was driving her home from church, she looked heavenly in her delicate white dress covering her bright pink slip, clearly visible underneath. Her beauty was so overwhelming me that I was pushed over the edge; I finally reached back, and handed her the little gift wrapped box, addressed to her, that I had kept ready for so long.
After slowly reading the note, she giggled. "Ohh!! THIS is SO CUTE!" "Oh, thank you so much, Michael, you DEAR! Oooo! You've made me SO happy!" Grinning throughout the time, she opened her purse, put one of the handcuff keys onto her key ring with the rest of her keys, and wrapped the other key in a tissue, saying that she was going to keep it safe in a hiding place that only she knew about. She put everything back into her purse, snapped it shut, and with a dramatic flourish, placed it over on the far side of the seat as if to keep it her treasure, far out of my reach. She snuggled up to me, smiling up at me.
"When we get to my home, dear possession, you will come inside with me. Then I'm going to try them on you, to make sure that they fit you properly. And I will keep you there for awhile, to have dinner with little me!" And talk about things!
I parked in front, and she waited for me to open the door for her, with her purse in her lap. I took her hand as she stepped out, and she led me into her house. Inside, she locked the door again with her key (which I noticed is certainly an unusual kind of entrance door, for this neighborhood). She led me over to her love seat, set her purse on the coffee table, took out the handcuffs, and fastened them on my wrists, behind my back. She smiled, "There you are, Honey! Are you comfy?" "Now, you sit down right here, and I will start our dinner." She helped me down into the love seat, and kissed me there!
She put her keys into her purse, and took it into the kitchen with her. "Now, Honey, you must listen very carefully! You will stay right there where I've put you, while I'm fixing dinner. You are not to get up, or move around, even an ittie bit, without first getting my permission!"
Wow! Is this ever weird! I love it! I love her!
Diane has locked me in her house. She has handcuffed me.
And now, she has sweetly and unexpectedly fastened me to the spot where I am sitting with just a word! Just as my wrists are handcuffed securely until she releases me again with her key, so my body is held securely where she has placed me until she releases me again with her word! I'm held as fast as if she had chained me here!
Because, obviously; I CAN'T disobey her! Her command to me is a lovely part, right from her heart, of her acceptance of my proposal to her. The slightest hint of disobedience would shatter everything --- unthinkable! I am completely, very happily, HERS! --- just as I had asked to be!
And I had thought that it was I who had planned for this day! But Diane, foreseeing my proposal, and exactly how I was going to do it, has taken over with her own ideas! Her love and intelligence are even beyond her beauty if that be possible. I sit here helpless and thrilled, dreamy, my eyes closed, wondering what she has next for me.
Suddenly, Diane's little hand slips under my arm, and her soft hair brushes across my cheek with her little kiss, bringing me out of my doze. She has sat noiselessly next to me, and brought me back into even greater delight than I had dozed into. My eyes open to the sight of her lovely smiling face filling my whole view, then the delicate lace of her slip over her crossed knees, and her other little hand holding her keyring in the lap of her dress, ready to release me from her handcuffs securing me. "You dear Michael! You stayed right here in this spot, just as I told you to do. I'm so proud of you!" "And now, everything is ready! Why don't you kneel down right here so I can unlock your handcuffs for you."
She puts them and the keys back into her purse, and tells me, "Now, Honey, you may go and get washed for dinner." Still on my knees, I turn and joyfully hug her; and she responds by pulling me to her with a very tight, prolonged hug, her cheek against mine and her hair flowing over the other side of my head over my other cheek.
"The way to a man's heart is through his stomach" must be the stupidest platitude mankind has ever vomited, next to his attitude concerning his eternal destiny. But Diane's cooking is on a par with everything else about her --- utterly wonderful. She perfects everything, for me! What a wonderful girl; and SHE LOVES me! I am HERS!! That's why she IS so wonderful; she makes it her point to be --- just for ME! THAT is what is the way to a man's heart.
I ask her, "Diane, what if I had disobeyed you, and moved around?" "Why, Michael, Honey, I knew that you would never do that! You're not that kind of person. I never even thought of such a thing!
Such an action, of course, would have turned your adoring proposal, SO precious to me, into a joke. And made ME into a joke. I don't know what I would have done.
I would surely have been shocked. Broken. Very, very, very hurt.
And then, VERY ANGRY!!
Weeping, and screaming at you, I might have violently grabbed you, gouging my fingernails into your arm the way an angry schoolteacher grabs a naughty boy, and, in addition to the handcuffs already on you, completely tied you up VERY unpleasantly. Then, lying helpless on the floor, you would see me, in my pretty dress rushing away from you, toward my bedroom. I would shortly re-appear, looking absolutely hideous to you, like most women, dressed in men's clothing. But maybe not: God tells, in the Bible, NEVER to do that. But I would certainly have made myself as ugly for you as I could. Then, still weeping, I would have tightened your restraints even more; and locked you into my utility closet, wedged in under the bottom shelf, on the floor. Then I would have left you there; locking up the house, and going out, somewhere, until way far into the night. When I finally came home, I would have dragged you out of my closet, where you could watch me put the keys to your handcuffs back into your 'gift' box and secure it tightly around your neck with duct tape. Then I would have released you from everything but your handcuffs, with their keys tightly secured to your neck, and thrown you out into the night with a GOOD BYE! I would have slammed and locked the door, and gone to bed, still in tears. It would be months, if ever, before I would even see you again."
Of course, in our marriage, she doesn't want me to always be a limp pantywaist in her hands; and there is no expectation of that, whatever. God has assigned the husband to be the head, the leader, and the provider of the household: the father of the children. But a delightful time of intimacy with her, now and then, such as this, seems a blessing from Him. It is a retreat, a heavenly rest, from the normal macho role the man has to play. Just as a good night's sleep is not laziness, but is a needed retreat, from the day's labor.
There have been many of those now and thens ever since. With the world shut out: just Diane and me, in totally different situation from the troubles of the world. And every time, I wished it could last forever. But Diane always keeps intelligent loving control of the time, as well as of me.
Michael
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Michael''s stories
- 01 - A gift for her (F/M)
Index of all stories in the "Archive for Everyone" section