It 's the good luck we have been waiting for ... one that does not affect us taking any off days at work.

You get done with your shopping misstep and breakfast duties with your folks and finally hold some you prison term. And of track, you have month end work to look into.

I wait, impatiently maybe ... but I know you would be capable to spare some meter and that 's what matters.

Well, since I do not deliver anything else to do, I am unfreeze to kip and possibly dream of you. I snuggle up in my fluffy mantle ... just the blanket and goose egg else.

I wake up on something soft ... sand ... cushy, pristine sand filters through my fingers. It is weirdly grim, with head of light up peeking through. I realise that I have a straw hat covering my face. I take the hat off and sit up ... the evening sun is softly glowing above the horizon ( or is it get through ? ). I remember sleeping naked, but I am now wearing a summer apparel ... navy ... flowy, sexily silky to the touch. A beach. I am on a beach. Does n't look like capital of Kuwait ... the moxie 's too sporting, like champagne coloured sugar.

I stand up and scatter myself ... A cool picnic reversal, being naughty with the hem of my dress. I look around, it is dusk after all.. the sun 's going down. No sign of anyone. No sign of you. If this is a aspiration which I now honestly believe it is, where the netherworld are you ? The beach seems isolated, just the murmur of the sea ... an episodic gull squawking. Inland, there seems to be nil much… no sign of homo life at least, darkening Sir Herbert Beerbohm Tree, not tropic. No tell-tale pin points of light, no euphony nothing.

It is beautiful, calm and a little scary. I am expectant of my ambition to plough the usual route… some monster, some beast to show up… maybe a wolf or a chemical group of wolf men… I look all dressed for a chase !

I walk along the beach, trying to keep up an equal distance to the shoreline and the treeline. I do not want to stay out in the opened when night falls and I do not want to wander into the trees ( they look menacing ). Maybe I will happen some stone, a cove, a cave… don't know how that will be any less scary… but maybe I will witness one with twinkle, big fluorescent ignitor that telephone line the cave walls and lead me to a room with a courteous bed and maybe you. Hey, it is a dream, I should be able to wish for it and get it look. Isn't that how pipe dream oeuvre ? Apparently not, as I seem to experience been walking quite a patch now with no sign of anything, not even monsters. I am exhausted now. Maybe it is time to wake up, for tangible.

I guess that's not an option here. I am still walking on the beach, it is now dark and the sea is sparkling silver with the moonlight… thank nirvana for the moon. The waves are agitated now. I look back along the way I've walked, the sea is often calmer there. It could be a aspiration anomalousness or I am nearing some rocky theatrical role of the beach. I might actually determine the cave. The beach also seems to be narrowing, the treeline steadily gaining on me, the sea pushing me towards the trees. Adjusting my eyes to only natural brightness feels strange, I can barely make out the rock and roll poking through the moxie. The synodic month is just risen and it throws odd vestige but I am now almost on what seems to be a rock bed, on an slope. The treeline is too ending for comfort and seems to be rushing towards me as I climb the ramp. Suddenly, the trees are replaced by a rock rampart, it seemed to give just appeared. Exhausted mind playing whoremaster. I decide to walk along the bulwark, something to lean against in my ambition that is now turning into a nightmare, almost. I am barely paying attention to anything except the smell of the John Rock paries and don't even realise when the murmuring of the sea recedes and when the dark gets inky.

My paw collision something and it clangs. A metallic clank. A manmade sound. I grope around the wall and finger the source of the noise… a chain. It feels like a chain. Wait… is that a shackle. Finding the handlock of the shackle coincides with my realization that I am now in some sort of chamber or undermine or passage and that what little I can see is by some miracle of the dream. Almost nightmare to total blown nightmare, I guess. I grope my way around the paries, fingerbreadth touching more metal chains ( or shackles ). Something sharp pricks my finger, tracing down they feel like a row of spikes, naah… a matrix of spikes. My mind endeavour to recreate the elbow room in light… and it is not a decent sight… it is forming a nice torture chamber in my head. I stumble on something wooden, a plank… I try to move it, but it seems fixed. I have a spirit that the walls are ever so slightly turning my focal point of movement and that I might actually be in a throwaway chamber. The flavor is reinforced when I trip again on a wooden plank after stumbling around a while. It is either a really tenacious torture chamber or a round room ! I gingerly try to place my bum on the wooden plank, 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 nighttime, releases the pent up exhaustion in me. I slip into an almost unconscious mind sleep.

I wake up again, sore, from the walk, from the grim wooden bench…and still in my dreaming ! It is still dark. I try to hold up my hand in movement of my face to curb the extent of profile. Metal clash. Oh goodness ! I am in shackles. This is not an melioration. Besides, I am feeling cold… and the cold is creeping into my ‘ clandestine'places… Jeez ! I am naked, spread-eagled and shackled… and as good as blind-folded. What now ?

Strangely, my physical structure is tingling… not sure as shooting if it is fear or prevision. In my head, horrific images of creepy crawlies attacking is interspersed with those of many hands touching, groping, caressing my naked body. Something crease my left wing nipple. I gasp. What feels like many butterfly feet trace down my belly, and back up to my bosom. I know my feet are tied apart, but on instinct I try to clench my human knee and I realise that my knees are tied apart. I am wide open to whoever ( or whatever ) is in there with me.

I close my center ( though it doesn't affair if they are open… it's just too dark ) 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 ‘ finger's breadth'closure torture my mamilla, the surge of rakehell back to them makes me gasp and before I can stage my senses, a outpouring of stings state on me down there. I think I just got pussy whipped ! That Nathan Birnbaum like hell… and not surprisingly, I am turned on AND in a lot of bother. I can smell out a presence… it's just the air that feels so… ‘ you'cause no auditory sensation at all.

The cat-o-nine dress suit ( it has to be that ) lands on my veracious breast. And even though I know that I could be whipped anytime, not knowing where and what interval is unnerving. As if to ease the scathe a bit, a fingerbreadth or fingers caress my kitty-cat lips… parting them, probing the entry softly… causing my breathing spell to tighten and every other muscularity to loosen. The frequency of setback and caresses increase, some are co-occurrent that I am no longer indisputable if there is just one tormenter in there with me.

I can feel my body burn and sting to the point in time of indifference. I can visualise welt crisscrossing my titty and thighs. My cheek is wet with rent and my pussycat is wet and dripping.

Whatever platform I am shackled to is tipped up, vertically… causing my bum to slide lower. The picture I would present with the position I am in… sheesh ! I am glad for the inky total darkness of the room. I feel arms under my thighs… thank goodness 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 firmly, yet soft… component part my pussy lips and it is definitely not a digit. I half whisper, half cry asking ‘ you'to be gentle. fingerbreadth wrap around my throat… stopping my pleading immediately… reducing me to gasping for air while ‘ your'pecker slams into me. null gentle about that. ‘ You'piston in and out. I am fighting to pass off. I feel like I am being torn apart down under. Damn ! I wanted to be fucked… but this is painful… and yet it feels good… feel damn good. A natural language region my lips ... the unity on my face… and I taste ‘ you'for the low time. Yes… it is you. No one else ( even with my lack of comparables ) perceptiveness and smells that combination… tobacco and midnight teakwood. Everything about this fucking is fucking aggressive… nothing gentle about the kiss… my sass are bruised, I am aching and hurting all over but with the knowledge that I am prophylactic in your branch I want more.

I feel the heftiness inside me tightening… both yours and mine. I squeeze as strong as I can, trying to maintain you tight inside me… of course it is just in my principal. being tied up like that all my squeeze is mental.

I am on the threshold of what I know will be a shamefully, shatteringly awesome orgasm when I hear the beginning Word since I woke up… A gruff, throaty whisper… muscular in spite of the low volume,"You will not dare cum before I let you."I want to hold back… I can't. I am worried 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 animal foot. Yet… when you flood me with your cum, I can not hold on myself… I try to conceal my orgasm in the shudders of your body. But I know that you know. Even as my body spool from the waves of shock absorber coursing through me, a bolt Land on my mightily cheek… stunning me but not stopping the waves washing over me. And the only when gentle act, a buss on the smarting cheek is underlined with an wild"You will pay for that !"

Despite the botheration and the awkward hanging posture, I am so wear from being so thoroughly fucked that I can barely keep my optic overt. I must ingest dozed off, because what wakes me is being doused with icy cold water supply. They feel like splinters of ice cutting me. I am instantly awake. And cognizant that I am no longer tied up, I was lying down on something hard, which has currently pooled up with freezing water. I sit up and now there is the faintest of glows in the room… like the room is lit up by a single firefly.

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

Then the telephone set rings… I wake up dazed, naked under my blanket… my hand guiltily between my legs."Hello"

"Hello… How are you ?"

"I… I am… I am glowingly o.k., I guess ?"

"Er… why ?"

"I na… I had this dream…"

"There you go !"

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

"The suddenly version"

"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 opportunity have those handcuffs ?"

"Byeeee… see ya soon."

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