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Short Story Fiction
The Fantasy Box
Scott A. Gese
As the night progressed, Anslo allowed the young woman to bind his wrists with his necktie and tie him to the bed.
Alex Holyoake/UnsplashAnslo was at the airport and about to check his bag when he realized he had absentmindedly slipped his pocket knife back into his pants pocket as he was packing.
“Shit,” he thought. “Now what?”
He was running late and there was no time to deal with the hassle of mailing it to himself. He loved this knife and always kept the blade as sharp as a razor. It was a cherished gift from a close friend. He didn’t want to lose it. On the slim chance it might be overlooked, he dropped it into the main compartment of his bag and checked it in.
After the flight he caught an Uber to the dock where he boarded a cruise ship to the Bahamas.
Later that afternoon when he unpacked his bag, he breathed a sigh of relief to see the knife was still there. He set it on the dresser with plans to mail it home.
That evening's dinner entertainment was a man calling himself The Great Fantasy Granter. His game was to have each person at each table write a word or two on a card. All the cards were then fed into a slot on the top of a special box he held.
A “Fantasy or Dream Card” would be ejected from the box and returned to each player. Their job would be to make their dream or fantasy come true before the end of the cruise. They all played along and fed their cards to the box.
After the box had been fed, the Fantasy Grantor spoke up. “I must tell you something. Of all the times this game has been played, there has yet to be even one disappointed player.”
As he was speaking, the box spit out another card. “What is this? Did someone not get a card?”
Everyone had played the game. He looked at the card and gasped “Oh my. This is terrible. Something has gone wrong. Maybe we should try this again.”
“Again? No no, read the card,” they all insisted.
“OK, I’ll read the card, but I hope this doesn’t come true.” He held the card out as if he was about to herald some great truth. “One fantasy will be fraught with danger. Proceed with caution.”
They all had a good laugh as they thought about the dream or fantasy they had gotten and hoped the danger element would not be for them.
After dinner and drinks, Anslo found himself in the company of a beautiful young woman.
As the evening moved on, Anslo ordered a bucket of ice and several bottles of champagne. They took the bottles and headed back to Anslo’s berth where they proceeded to finish off two of them.
As the night progressed, the champagne began to bring out their passion for each other. In the heat of the moment Anslo allowed the young woman to bind his wrists with his necktie and tie him to the bed.
It was her fantasy, not his. It was against his better judgment. But his better judgement had disappeared along with the second bottle of champagne. He played along. After all, it was part of the game they had played at the dinner table that evening.
After Anslo was bound to the bed, the woman played out her fantasy. When she had finished she popped the cork on the third bottle and poured herself a tall glass as Anslo looked on. “Is this part of your fantasy? To drink a glass of champagne while I’m tied to the bed?”
“Yup. I plan to enjoy every sip of it too,” she replied.
Anslo asked to be untied.
She finished off the glass and stumbled toward the bed.
The young woman worked at the knots but the champagne had gone to her head and was keeping her from focusing her attention. She couldn’t get them undone. “I know what I can do.” She fell off the bed and staggered over to the dresser. “I saw this knife up here when I came in. I’ll take it and just slice those knots right off your wrists.”
Anslo protested but the woman wasn't paying attention. She fumbled with the knife until she got it opened and then staggered back to the bed.
© Copyright 2023 by Scott A. Gese All Rights Reserved.
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