Love Letters
Bella hadn’t seen Heather since college. She had been so serious-minded, so dedicated to her studies. So when she showed up with pink streaks in her hair and greeted her with a tittering, giggly hug, Bella was taken aback.
“Heather, it’s good to see you—how have you been? You look… wow! Different!”
Heather beamed as she did a little twirl. “Good different, right?” she said, giggling at her obvious attempt at compliment-fishing. “I’ve been trying to eat better, and just like, spend more time on me, you know? Getting exercise, taking care of my appearance, all that. I feel great!”
“Well, I’m glad. It’s so nice to see you!” Bella was still weirded out—last she had seen Heather, the idea of getting her to string together two sentences about things like clothes or hair or makeup would have been ridiculous. But now her old friend went on and on about such and such boutique, that sold such and such ‘suuuuuper cute’ pair of shoes, or whatever else. It was eerie.
After about half an hour of catching up in the park, Bella relaxed a bit. Heather was still the same old girl, deep down. She just seemed to have embraced a flighty, girly side that Bella never knew she had. It was strange to see, but once Bella got over her surprise, she had to admit it was nice to see her friend so happy.
The only other strange incident came just before they left the park.
“Hey, Heather,” Bella said. “Do you know that guy over there? I noticed him about ten minutes ago. He’s been looking at us and smiling for a while now.”
Heather looked, and smiled. “Oh, hey, that’s Dave!” She waved happily. The man waved back, grinning, but didn’t approach. “I actually dated him for a couple of weeks. He’s the best! What a nice guy. And mmmm, good in bed?” She gave Bella a wink and a wide grin.
Bella nodded, blushing a bit, uncomfortable. That wasn’t like the Heather she remembered. Also… well, something about the whole thing was weird. But it was over with shortly—moments after that exchange, Dave got up and walked away, not looking at back at them at all.
The two women went out for coffee after that, and promised to make more of an effort to stay in touch. They both knew they probably wouldn’t—those were just the things you say. Plus, they just weren’t as similar anymore. As Heather walked away, immediately grabbing her cellphone and texting away, Bella had to smile. How could somebody change so much in such a short time?
Bella hung up the phone. She smiled to herself, looking around the apartment, and… she…
…she blinked. When had she taken off her pants? And why did everything look so… pink?
Who had she even been on the phone with?
She thought back. It was difficult. The last few hours were a haze. She left the coffee shop, headed back home. She took out the book she’d borrowed from the library, sat down, and started to read. After a while, her phone rang. She… well, she assumed she picked it up. She didn’t really remember that part. And couldn’t remember anything after that.
She blinked a few times. Things looked more normal now. Everything—really, everything—still had a weird pink sheen to it, though. She rubbed her eyes, it seemed to be calming down a bit.
She checked her phone. There was one received call, from—Jesus, really?—almost three hours ago. She didn’t recognize the number. She considered for a second, deciding she needed to know, and hit ‘call’.
The phone rang a few times, then a man’s voice answered. “Bella, hey! I didn’t expect to hear from you again so soon.” You could practically see the smirk just from his voice.
“Who is this?” Bella demanded.
“Dave, of course. We just hung up ten minutes ago. You’ve forgotten me already?”
His voice was perfectly friendly and polite. Somewhere underneath, though, there was an edge. Something hard, mocking. I know more than you do, it said, and I think it’s funny. I know what’s happening, and you don’t, and that puts me in a position of power. And I’m enjoying it.
Bella’s mind raced. She had so many questions. Dave, the guy from the park? Had they really spent three hours on the phone? Why did everything look pink? Why did she have her pants off?
“How did you get this number?” is what she finally settled on.
“What? Heather gave it to me, of course.” he said, as thought it was the most obvious thing in the world.
“Of course.” Bella replied. She had intended to spit it back at him, acidly, a hornet’s nest of sarcasm poured down the phone. Instead it sounded dull, like a simple repetition.
“So then I called you, of course.”
“Of course.” she said again. The phone was heavy in her hand. The wall in front of her glowed, pink.
“And we talked, of course.”
“Of course.” she repeated. Her voice seemed weak, far away. It was like her brain was wrapped in gauze. She wanted to say something, but words seemed far away. She pulled herself towards them, back towards being able to speak for herself, back towards awareness. Something was happening. She blinked a few times, managed to catch her breath a little, regain some focus.
Dave started to say something else, but Bella managed to catch herself.
”Look, I don’t—I don’t want you to call here again!” she snapped, and hung up quickly before he could reply.
She sat down. Her phone buzzed, but she ignored it. What the hell was that? And why had Heather given that weirdo her number? She was going to get some answers, as soon as she caught her breath. And found her pants.
Bella grabbed the phone and called Heather. It took her about an hour after that conversation with Dave—second conversation with Dave, apparently—to calm down. Once she had, calling Heather to get some answers was her first move.
“Hello?” Heather’s voice chirped over the phone.
“Heather? It’s Bella. Did you—”
“Hiiii Bella! How are you?”
“I’m… not great, Heather. Did you give that guy Dave my number?”
Heather giggled. “Oh totally! He called me and was asking about you after we saw him at the park. He though you were very sexy…” she said with a playful tone of voice.
“Heather, what the hell? I’m not interested in him! And isn’t this weird? You said you two broke up, or something—what exactly is your relationship?”
“What, me and Dave? We kinda dated for a while… but now we’re just… um, y’know. Friends!” You could practically hear the hair being twirled.
“Look, just… tell him I don’t want to hear from him again!” Bella demanded, and hung up. When did everybody in her life go crazy?
She didn’t hear anything from Dave that day, or the next, or the next. After that, though, she opened her door to head to work and found a small pink envelope on her front step. She opened it, and found a little pink card. “You’re cute” it said in big purple letters. That’s it. It looked handmade, and didn’t have anything on the envelope.
Bella found it very creepy, actually. She just knew, knew, that it was from Dave. She stormed inside to throw it away, and -
-stopped herself. It was just a card. What was the big deal? She dropped it on the counter instead. She left for work and forgot about it.
When she got home there were three more letters sitting in front of her door.
“Pretty in pink”, one said.
“Nice hair” was another.
“So gorgeous” said the third.
This was easily the weirdest thing that’d ever happened to Bella. She picked them up and went inside. She laid all four cards out next to one another and looked at them. She wasn’t sure what she was looking for—some kind of clue as to what they might mean. She couldn’t make much of them, though. She stared at them for a long time.
I should throw these out, she thought. They’re weird and creepy and I don’t want to be reminded of that guy.
Instead, she pinned them up on her wall. She looked at them as she fell asleep.
The next day when she woke up there were another half-dozen cards sitting there, all with ultra-pithy messages containing the words ‘pink’ and ‘pretty’ and ‘sexy’. She made herself a few minutes late for work because of the time she took pinning them up and organizing them on the wall.
She came home to another small pile of them, as well as a box. Despite herself, she was excited. She scooped up the letters and the package and hurried inside.
Bella set the box down on the kitchen counter and laid out the letters alongside it. She decided to open the letters first. One by one she tore open the small pink envelopes and pulled out the cards inside. Each was the same as all the others—a pink card, with two or three words. Cute doll. Heels and panties. Pretty titties. Lips for kissing. Always pink. Giggly fun. Pretty eyes. Lovely legs. Gorgeous ditz. Beautiful and silly.
Bella stared at them. She laid them out next to each other in three neat rows, reading one after another after another. She was entranced. The words rattled in her head, bouncing around. They blended together, creating a heavy pink-font fog that clouded her perceptions.
It was in that haze that she opened the box. It was a simple white box with pink ribbon wrapped over it. She slowly undid the bow, sliding the box out carefully and lifting the lid. Inside was a gorgeous little lingerie set—a pretty, ruffly pink babydoll with matching panties. She stared at it for a long, long time without taking it out of the box.
One the one hand, it was easily the most beautiful thing Bella had ever seen. The rest of the room seemed gray and fuzzy in her peripheral vision compared to the vibrant beauty of the lingerie. She couldn’t tear her eyes away from it.
On the other hand, it was terrifying. Somebody sent that to her, with no explanation other than a pile of bizarre notes that didn’t make any sense. And they were doing something to her, she knew. She should have been throwing them away, should have called the police to report this as harassment, should have closed the box by now instead of reaching out and oh my god the fabric felt so amazing!
The rest of the world fell away as Bella slid out of her work clothes and got put her new pretty pink outfit on. Her skin felt alive wherever the fabric touched it. She put on some jewelry and heels—she just knew it wasn’t right to wear such beautiful, perfect lingerie without dressing it up a bit—and laid down, reading and rereading her letters.
They were from Dave. That was obvious. The lingerie, as well. He was doing something to her. Maybe he did this to Heather, too, she thought. She wondered if Heather felt this amazing when it was happening to her. She wondered if Heather realized it was Dave doing it, and that he was changing her. She wondered if Heather had cared. Bella wondered if she cared herself.
She wanted to call him. She knew if she did that, it’d be all over. What, exactly, would be all over? She couldn’t say. But something important was happening. She realized that enough to resist picking up the phone. Instead she just laid down, read her love letters, and admired her beautiful lingerie again and again.
Bella woke up smiling. Everything was so great! She had a wall of awesome love letters to look at, she had gorgeous lingerie to wear, and her whole apartment looked pink and pretty to her.
She paused for a moment. Everything looking pink—that was weird, wasn’t it? There was a time when this had happened before, and it worried her. She was almost certain that had happened. She couldn’t remember when, or why it had bothered her so much, but… it had. She knew it. She concentrated hard, tried to figure it out.
She looked at her pink walls, focusing. She considered her pink bedspread, deep in thought. She stared at her pink vanity mirror, brows furrowed. She analyzed the slight varying shades of pink between her floor and her walls. She meditated on which was more appealing—the bubblegum pink of her ceiling, or the slightly more subdued rose of her door.
She sat back eventually, smiling. What was the big deal? Everything looked perfect. Pink was perfect. After all, her new undies were pink, and they were obviously perfect. If she was really worried, too, she could always call Dave.
She laughed a little at herself. Why would she do that? What a weird thought. She didn’t even like Dave, did she? She should call him.
She laughed again, a cute little giggle. She couldn’t get Dave out of her head, apparently! That (call Dave) was kind of weird. It was probably all those letters, she kept reading them (call Dave) over and over. They were from him, she knew, so (call Dave call Dave call Dave) those must be reminding her of him. She should call him!
Bella smiled. What a great idea! She picked up the phone, dialed Dave’s number, her smile seeming to be more or less permanent now.
“Hi there—is this Bella?” Dave’s voice answered.
“Hi Dave!” she said, a little surprised by the bubbly excitement in her voice. “Yeah, it’s me!”
“Well, hello there, Bella. Are you doing well?”
“Oh yes! I’m doing great! Um, how are you doing?”
“I’m very good, Bella. Thank you for asking.” Dave said. “Did you get my letters?”
Bella felt herself nodding eagerly as she said “Oh yes! They were so nice!”
Dave sounded amused as he said “Oh, that’s good. And did they make you feel pink and cute and silly and sexy and ditzy and hot?” He paused for the briefest moment before adding “What am I saying, of course they did.”
“Of course they did…” Bella heard herself breathe in agreement. Dave was right, they did make her feel all those things. Pink and cute…
“And you got my other package, of course.”
“Of course…” Bella intoned. And silly and sexy…
“And you put it on, of course.”
“Of course…” And ditzy and hot…
“And you’re wearing it right now, of course.”
“Of course…” It was an unusual feeling, that of agreeing with Dave. It was like falling in sync, in rhythm, with something bigger than herself. Not just her mind, her whole body. It felt like her breathing was changing speed to match what Dave dictated. Her pulse was slowing down or speeding up to better fit Dave. Every agreeing bob of her head was done in time with the pace Dave let it. All of her thoughts fell into neat, grid-like patterns, all overseen by Dave.
Of course, she thought. Of course, of course, of course, of course. Dave was speaking, and his words tuned the shape of the grids in her mind. She didn’t have to listen, didn’t have to understand. Bella just absorbed, nodding along in time. Of course, of course, of course. Whatever he said made sense. Whatever didn’t make sense just shifted her brain around until it did make sense. Which made perfect sense. Of course, she thought. Of course, of course, of course.
Bella hung up the phone. She and Dave had talked for such a long time. Or, well, Dave had talked. Bella had just listened, and nodded, and agreed. Most of the time there was no need for pretty girls to talk. They just had to listen, and obey, and be pretty. Dave had taught her that. Dave was so smart. Dave was so perfect. She knew that because Dave told her he was perfect.
Bella got up and went to her closet. She felt so good now. She could still remember what thinking for herself was like—difficult, and scary, and confusing. She had had to make decisions, and figure things out for herself, and worry all the time. Now, things were great! Dave had fixed her mind for her. Now it could only think the things Dave told it to. Bella was so grateful! She knew that because Dave told her she was.
She grabbed her sexiest red bra and panties from the closet, stripped down, and put them on. Dave told her the ruffly pink lingerie was just for training. She’d get to train more later, Dave said, which was super exciting. But for now she needed something sexy that she picked out. Dave would be coming over soon, and she wanted to look good for him when they fucked. She wanted that because Dave told her she did.
She knelt down by the bed, listening for the door. Dave was going to come, and he’d fuck her, for hours and hours if he wanted. Then she’d go home with him, and she’d be his slave there. She’d see Heather again, which was exciting, because now they’d be slave-sisters! Being Dave’s slave was going to be so much fun. She knew that because Dave said it would be.
After awhile Dave would send her out to meet the sexiest friend she had, and Dave would appraise her, and if he liked her, she’d get to be Dave’s slave too! That’s what Heather did, and that’s how Bella got to be Dave’s slave. She was already trying to decide between Megan, from work, and her sister Beth. She’d pick whoever would make Dave happiest, and helping Dave claim her would make her so happy. She knew it would because Dave said it would.
The door opened. She trembled with excitement. As soon as Dave entered the room, she came. “Hello Master…” she purred.