The Letters That Bound Them

The campfires flickered in the cold night, casting long shadows over the rows of tents where weary soldiers rested. Thomas sat on a tree stump, his uniform caked with mud and his hands calloused from gripping his musket. The Battle of Salamanca had been brutal, and the cries of the wounded still echoed in his mind. He stared at the letter in his hands, the paper worn from being folded and unfolded countless times. It was from Emily.

Her elegant handwriting was a stark contrast to the chaos around him. The letter smelt faintly of lavender, a scent that transported him back to the stables of Holbrook, where he had once worked as a stable boy. Back then, Emily had been a distant figure, a lady of high society who would sometimes visit the stables to tend to her mare. They had exchanged words, the spark between them always burning beneath the surface. Then, on his final day, the spark ignited into a flame, and they shared a kiss that left them both with a quiet understanding neither could explain.

Now, through her letters, that spark had grown into something deeper.

Emily’s First Letter

The first letter had arrived unexpectedly, delivered by a courier who had tracked Thomas down through the army’s network. Seeing her name on the envelope had stunned him. He opened it with trembling hands, his heart pounding as he read her words.

Dear Thomas,

I hope this letter finds you well, though I know the world you are in now is far from kind. I often think of you and want you to know that you are not forgotten. The village is quieter without you, and the stables feel emptier. I find myself wandering there sometimes, remembering the days when you would smile at me as you brushed down the horses.

Life here is… complicated. I am married now, as you may have heard, to Justin, the son of Lord Ashcombe. He is kind in his way but distant. As you know, our marriage was arranged, as these things often are, and I fear I will never know what it is to be truly loved. I write to you not out of pity but because I feel you are one of the few people who might understand.

Please write back if you can. I would like to know how you are and if the world out there is as terrible as they say.

Yours,

Emily

Thomas’s Reply

That very night, Thomas wrote back, his words spilling onto the page as though a dam had broken. He told her of the horrors of war, the blood-soaked fields, the screams of dying men, the relentless march of armies across foreign lands. But he also shared moments of unexpected beauty: the camaraderie of his fellow soldiers, the kindness of villagers who shared their bread, the stars that shone brighter than ever in the night sky.

He wrote of his memories of her, too, how her laughter had once lit up the stables, how her presence had made even the hardest days bearable. And he confessed something he had never dared to say aloud: that he had always cared for her, and the memory of that kiss was what kept him warm at night.

Emily’s Confession

Emily’s next letter arrived a month later, more intimate than the first. She wrote of her loneliness, and the emptiness of her marriage to Justin. She confessed that, while he was a good man, he had no interest in her—not in the way she had once dreamed of. He was, she revealed, secretly gay, and their marriage was merely a facade to satisfy society’s expectations.

I am trapped, Thomas, she wrote. Trapped in a life where I am neither loved nor desired. I long for something more, something real. Sometimes, when I read your letters, I imagine what it might be like to be with someone who truly sees me, who wants me. It is a dangerous thought, I know, but it is the only thing that keeps me going.

Her words stirred something deep within Thomas, a longing he had tried to suppress. He wrote back, pouring his heart onto the page. He told her of his own loneliness, of the ache he felt for home and for her. He confessed that he, too, dreamed of a life where they could be together, free from the constraints of war and duty.

A Growing Intimacy

Their letters became a lifeline. Emily wrote of her frustrations, her longing for touch, for passion, for a connection beyond the superficial. Thomas wrote of his fears, of death, of losing himself to the brutality of war, of never seeing her again. Through their words, they found solace in each other, their bond growing stronger with every letter.

One night, after a particularly gruelling battle, Thomas received a letter that left him breathless. Emily had written of a dream she had, a dream where they were together, free to love one another and surrender to their deepest desires.

I dreamt of your hands, Thomas. Your touch, your warmth. I dreamt we were together, that I gave myself to you completely. I know it is wrong to write such things, but I cannot help myself. You took me fully and made me feel alive. The rumours that spread around the village about you proved true; you satisfied me in ways I have never known and fear I never will.

Thinking of you satisfies me mentally but leaves me physically wanting more than ever. So, I dealt with that need myself… until I can find a way for you to satisfy it instead.

Thomas’s reply was just as raw, just as honest. He told her that he dreamed of her too, of undressing her, of pressing his lips against every inch of her delicate skin. He described, in vivid detail, how he longed to pleasure her, to explore her body, to feel the heat of her beneath him as their bodies intertwined.

He also admitted that he often retreated to the woods to relieve himself, clutching her letters, breathing in the remnants of her perfume, stroking himself to completion with the thought of her in his mind.

The Arrival of Tokens

As months passed, their letters grew more frequent, more passionate. One day, Emily enclosed a lace garter in her letter, explaining that she had worn it high on her thigh each night while satisfying her own desires, ensuring it carried her scent before sending it to him.

In return, Thomas sent a package containing an eagle’s feather from the mountains of northern Italy and two playing cards depicting women in provocative poses. He confessed that he had wrapped her garter around his throbbing member as he pleasured himself, picturing her in those same enticing positions.

For Thomas, Emily’s letters were a beacon of light in the darkness of war. And as their words turned from longing to love, he began to believe she was his, forgetting, in the heat of desire, that she was bound to another man.

Marital Duties

Then, suddenly, the letters stopped. Nearly two months passed without a word. Had he gone too far? Had Justin discovered their secret? His fears swirled until, one Sunday afternoon, a messenger arrived with a new letter.

What he read both pleased and unsettled him. Emily admitted to wanting to pose for Thomas just like the ladies on those cards had posed. She told him how she had recently acquired an ivory dildo on a trip to London with the help of a lady’s maid, and that she used it to satisfy herself whilst picturing him taking her freely.

But she also detailed the expectations of her marriage, how failing the expectation to produce a son had led to intrusive examinations by doctors.

She told Thomas that, prior to the appointments, Justin had confided in her that he feared they would discover she was still a maiden. However, she reassured him those years in the saddle, not to mention her new ivory friend, had taken care of her hymen.

As expected, the doctors had said nothing was wrong and that only time together would make a family happen. This led to the forced nightly visits coordinated by Justin’s mother and a failed attempt at intimacy.

Emily went on to describe the embarrassment she felt each night, being led to his chambers like a mare to a stud. She wrote of how his mother’s world would shatter if she ever discovered that her beloved son preferred the company of colts over pretty fillies.

However, she described Justin’s impressive physique, his broad shoulders, his thick arms, and the way he aroused himself while gazing at the portrait of a Greek hunter… and how, in turn, it awakened something in her. She detailed how her chest heaved with anticipation, how her nipples hardened like gems, and how her body responded with a wetness she had never felt before as she watched him massage his hypnotically large cock.

Only for him to lose interest the moment he turned to her and go soft.

She went on to say how, despite this physical challenge, they had become close friends, and she even thought that Justin and Thomas could even be friends if given the chance.

That night, as Thomas sought relief in the woods, whilst propped against a tree stroking his throbbing cock, thoughts of Justin’s body intruded into his fantasies of Emily. And just as he reached the peak of pleasure, an image of Justin taking him sent him over the edge.

The next morning, confused and ashamed, he set about telling Emily everything in a letter.

He wrote about the events of the past couple of months and the rumours of a large forthcoming battle. Then, he shared his thoughts on what she had told him, how grateful he was that they had grown so close, and his concerns about what would happen if she failed to conceive.

He briefly mentioned his time in the woods, where he had pleasured himself while imagining her as a naked goddess, only for the fantasy to shift at the moment of release, with Justin sliding his cock into Thomas’s butt, sending him over the edge like a bursting pipe.

Sealing the letter, he took it to the dispatch before grabbing his musket and reporting for parade.

Unknowing where that day’s march would take him or when or if he would receive a response to his letter, he fell into step and marched off into the horizon.