If “music is the soundtrack of our lives”, is it the soundtrack of our fantasies as well?...Why is it that lyrics like these get my brain working? Is there really “nothing as potent as cheap music”? Here’s a series of short vignettes, each inspired by a line from a song. Credits at the end…


“ Try as I may, I could never explain, What I hear when, You don't say a thing …. You say it best when you say nothing at all…”


It’s been the most pleasant of evenings. I always enjoy your company. Now, as the fire dies back to orange embers I sense that the cabin is starting to surrender its heat to the night outside. I wonder if you feel it too. You are lying quite close to the fire, stretched out on the fur rug. You are naked, of course, except for your collar; and the ropes, and the gag. You must feel the warmth begin to fade.

You stretch against the ropes; not attempting to free yourself, more delighting in their restraint. You give a sigh of pleasure muffled and distorted by the ball that fills your mouth. You see me watching you. Your eyes smile, knowing how pleased I am to share your delight.

You know that soon I will free your ankles and lead you away from the fire to the bedroom. You know that I will unbuckle your gag and remove the ball. You know, too, that then you will still not speak. You will not speak but your mouth will bring me pleasure. Silent and submitting, gaining your pleasure from pleasing. I cannot doubt that I know what you feel.