It 's the breaking we have been waiting for ... one that does not involve us taking any off mean solar day at work.

You get done with your shopping slip and breakfast tariff with your folk and finally consume some you time. And of course of instruction, you have month end oeuvre to look into.

I wait, impatiently maybe ... but I know you would be able to give up some time and that 's what matters.

Well, since I do not have anything else to do, I am free to catch some Z's and possibly dream of you. I snuggle up in my fluffy blanket ... just the blanket and cipher else.

I wake up on something diffuse ... sand ... soft, pristine Amandine Aurore Lucie Dupin filters through my finger. It is weirdly obscure, with dot of Light peeking through. I realise that I have a shuck hat covering my facial expression. I take the hat off and sit up ... the evening sun is softly glowing above the horizon ( or is it dawn ? ). I remember sleeping naked, but I am now wearing a summer dress ... navy ... flowy, sexily silky to the tinge. A beach. I am on a beach. Does n't seem like Kuwait ... the sand 's too clean, like champagne coloured sugar.

I stand up and dust myself ... A coolheaded breeze gust, being naughty with the hem of my dress. I look around, it is gloam after all.. the sun 's going down. No sign of anyone. No sign of you. If this is a dream which I now honestly conceive it is, where the hell are you ? The beach seems isolated, just the cardiac murmur of the sea ... an episodic soft touch squawking. Inland, there seems to be nothing much… no sign of human animation at least, darkening Sir Herbert Beerbohm Tree, not tropical. No tell-tale pin degree of light, no music nothing.

It is beautiful, serene and a little scarey. I am expectant of my dream to call on the usual route… some monster, some savage to present up… maybe a savage or a group of savage men… I look all dressed for a Salmon P. Chase !

I walk along the beach, trying to uphold an match length to the shoreline and the treeline. I do not want to outride out in the open when night falls and I do not want to swan into the Tree ( they look menacing ). Maybe I will notice some rock candy, a cove, a cave… don't eff how that will be any lupus erythematosus scary… but maybe I will find one with lightness, big fluorescent lights that line the cave walls and lead me to a room with a nice bed and maybe you. Hey, it is a dream, I should be able to care for it and make it appear. Isn't that how dreams work ? Apparently not, as I seem to stimulate been walking quite a patch now with no sign of anything, not even monsters. I am exhausted now. Maybe it is clock time to awaken up, for real.

I guess that's not an option here. I am still walking on the beach, it is now night and the sea is sparkling silver with the moonlight… thank heavens for the lunar month. The waves are agitated now. I look back along the way I've walked, the sea is much calmer there. It could be a dream anomaly or I am nearing some rocky persona of the beach. I might actually find the cave. The beach also seems to be constrict, the treeline steadily gaining on me, the sea pushing me towards the trees. Adjusting my eyes to only lifelike ignitor tone strange, I can barely pee-pee out the rocks poking through the sand. The moonlight is just risen and it throws odd tincture but I am now almost on what seems to be a rock bed, on an incline. The treeline is too close for comfort and seems to be rushing towards me as I climb the incline. Suddenly, the Sir Herbert Beerbohm Tree are replaced by a rock wall, it seemed to have just appeared. Exhausted mind playing whoremonger. I decide to take the air along the rampart, something to be given against in my dreaming that is now turning into a nightmare, almost. I am barely paying attention to anything except the feel of the rock wall and don't even recognize when the murmur of the sea recedes and when the darkness gets inky.

My hand smasher something and it clangs. A metal clang. A manmade sound. I grope around the rampart and feel the source of the noise… a string. It feels like a mountain chain. Wait… is that a hamper. Finding the handcuff of the shackle coincides with my realisation that I am now in some kind of sleeping room or cave or passage and that what short I can see is by some miracle of the aspiration. Almost nightmare to full blown nightmare, I guess. I grope my way around the walls, fingerbreadth touching more metal chains ( or bond ). Something sharp pricks my digit, tracing down they feel like a row of spike, naah… a matrix of ear. My mind endeavour to cheer the way in light… and it is not a nice sight… it is forming a nice torture chamber in my principal. I stumble on something wooden, a plank… I try to move it, but it seems fixed. I have a feeling that the walls are ever so slightly turning my commission of crusade and that I might actually be in a broadside chamber. The feeling is reinforced when I trip again on a wooden plank after stumbling around a while. It is either a really farseeing distortion chamber or a rhythm room ! I gingerly try to order my bum on the wooden board, hoping it won't see-saw on me. It does not. Phew ! Sitting down on what I want to reimagine as an innocent bench in the dark, releases the pent up exhaustion in me. I slip into an almost unconscious sleep.

I wake up again, sore, from the walk, from the unforgiving wooden bench…and still in my aspiration ! It is still dour. I try to obligate up my manus in front of my side to check the extent of visibility. Metal clank. Oh goodness ! I am in hamper. This is not an improvement. Besides, I am feeling cold… and the cold is creeping into my ‘ privy'places… Jeez ! I am naked, spread-eagle and shackled… and as near as blind-folded. What now ?

Strangely, my soundbox is tingling… not certainly if it is awe or expectancy. In my headland, horrific figure of speech of creepy crawlies attacking is interspersed with those of many hands touching, groping, caressing my naked physical structure. Something Graz my left mammilla. I gasp. What feels like many butterfly fundament trace down my belly, and back up to my breast. I know my feet are tied apart, but on instinct I try to clench my knees and I realise that my knee joint are tied apart. I am wide surface to whoever ( or whatever ) is in there with me.

I close my eyes ( though it doesn't thing if they are open… it's just too drear ) and I imagine you in there with me. And that pinching of my nipples… I imagine it is you. It hurts… I want to scream… but it is just a whimper that comes out. The ‘ fingerbreadth'closure spin my mamilla, the rush of blood back to them makes me heave and before I can arrange my weed, a barrage of flimflam land on me down there. I think I just got cunt whipped ! That burns like hell… and not surprisingly, I am turned on AND in a lot of pain. I can feel a presence… it's just the air that feels so… ‘ you'make no sound at all.

The cat-o-nine bottom ( it has to be that ) lands on my rightfulness bosom. And even though I know that I could be whipped anytime, not knowing where and what interval is unnerving. As if to facilitate the harm a bit, a finger or fingerbreadth caress my pussy lips… parting them, probing the entry softly… causing my breath to constrain and every other muscle to loosen. The frequencies of shock and caresses step-up, some are simultaneous that I am no longer for certain if there is just one tormentor in there with me.

I can feel my dead body burn and sting to the point of numbness. I can picture welts crisscrossing my tit and second joint. My nerve is wet with binge and my puss is wet and dripping.

Whatever platform I am shackled to is tipped up, vertically… causing my bum to slide bring down. The picture I would submit with the position I am in… sheesh ! I am glad for the inky black of the way. I feel weaponry under my thighs… thank good they feel like arms… I had almost lost hope of the tormentor ( s ) being human, let alone you. I think I know what is coming ... something hard, yet soft… parts my pussy lips and it is definitely not a finger. I half susurration, half cry asking ‘ you'to be lenify. finger wrap around my throat… stopping my pleading immediately… reducing me to gasping for air while ‘ your'cock gibe into me. cypher gentle about that. ‘ You'piston in and out. I am fighting to pass off. I feel like I am being buck apart down under. shucks ! I wanted to be fucked… but this is painful… and yet it feels good… feels damn goodness. A tongue portion my sass ... the single on my face… and I taste ‘ you'for the first sentence. Yes… it is you. No one else ( even with my lack of comparables ) gustation and smells that combination… baccy and midnight teakwood. Everything about this ass is fucking aggressive… zip gentle about the kiss… my mouth are bruised, I am aching and hurting all over but with the knowledge that I am safe in your weapons system I want more.

I feel the muscles inside me tightening… both yours and mine. I squeeze as hard as I can, trying to restrain you tight inside me… of course it is just in my forefront. Being tied up like that all my squeezing is mental.

I am on the verge of what I know will be a shamefully, shatteringly awe-inspiring orgasm when I hear the first words since I woke up… A gruff, throaty whisper… right in spite of the low volume,"You will not dare cum before I let you."I want to keep back back… I can't. I am interest about the consequences… my arms are aching hung the way I am. Every inch of me is sore… and I want to stand on my metrical foot. Yet… when you flood me with your cum, I can not block off myself… I try to veil my orgasm in the shudders of your dead body. But I know that you know. Even as my body spool from the waves of seismic disturbance coursing through me, a slap domain on my right-hand cheek… stunning me but not stopping the moving ridge washing over me. And the only gentle act, a buss on the smart face is underlined with an angry"You will pay for that !"

Despite the pain and the uneasy wall hanging strength, I am so play out from being so thoroughly fucked that I can barely keep my center open. I must let dozed off, because what wakes me is being doused with icy cold weewee. They feel like sliver of ice cutting me. I am instantly awake. And cognizant that I am no longer tied up, I was lying down on something surd, which has currently pooled up with freezing water. I sit up and now there is the lightheaded of radiance in the room… like the room is lit up by a ace firefly.

You push me down on to the bed/bench/whatever… face down, my belly and tit touching the freezing water that still stings like loony. My arms are pulled up behind me and what feels like a loop of rope skid on to my wrists. All I can say is"Oh No !, Please no"and all I get back from you is"meter for your punishment"…

Then the phone rings… I wake up dazed, naked under my blanket… my hand guiltily between my wooden leg."how-do-you-do"

"Hello… How are you ?"

"I… I am… I am glowingly ticket, I guess ?"

"Er… why ?"

"I na… I had this dream…"

"There you go !"

"Arre… you want the short version or the long one ?"

"The unforesightful interpretation"

"Well… huh ok… in that case… I just got thoroughly fucked !"

"Ahemm… Inappropriate !"

"I believe my pussy disagrees"

"Besharam… I think I will pass by, if you are ok with it."

"I'll be waiting… hey… do you by any chance have those handcuffs ?"

"Byeeee… see ya soon."

*Besharam is a Hindi countersign, it means 'shameless'.