It 's the pause we have been waiting for ... one that does not involve us taking any off Day at work.

You get done with your shopping trips and breakfast obligation with your folk music and finally have some you fourth dimension. And of class, you have month end work to look into.

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

Well, since I do not birth anything else to do, I am free to sleep and possibly ambition of you. I snuggle up in my fluffy cover ... just the blanket and zip else.

I wake up on something soft ... sand ... soft, pristine sand filters through my fingers. It is weirdly dark, with points of lightsome peeking through. I realise that I have a straw hat covering my font. I take the hat off and sit up ... the eve sun is softly glowing above the horizon ( or is it dawn ? ). 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 seem like Kuwait ... the sand 's too clean, like bubbly coloured sugar.

I stand up and sprinkle myself ... A assuredness breeze puff, being naughty with the hem of my attire. I look around, it is dusk after all.. the sun 's going down. No signal of anyone. No sign of you. If this is a dream which I now honestly consider it is, where the hell are you ? The beach seems isolated, just the heart murmur of the sea ... an casual gull squawking. Inland, there seems to be nothing much… no sign of human being aliveness at least, darkening trees, not tropical. No tell-tale pin points of luminance, no music nothing.

It is beautiful, tranquil and a minuscule chilling. I am great of my dreaming to turn the common route… some monster, some brute to picture up… maybe a brute or a group of savage men… I look all dressed for a Salmon P. Chase !

I walk along the beach, trying to observe an be distance to the shoreline and the treeline. I do not need to stick out in the exposed when dark falls and I do not want to divagate into the tree diagram ( they look menacing ). Maybe I will encounter some Rock, a cove, a cave… don't know how that will be any less scary… but maybe I will discover one with lights, big fluorescent fixture lights that line the cave bulwark and lead me to a room with a dainty bed and maybe you. Hey, it is a dream, I should be capable to like for it and defecate it appear. Isn't that how woolgather work ? Apparently not, as I seem to experience been walking quite a while now with no star sign of anything, not even monstrosity. I am exhausted now. Maybe it is time to wake up, for real.

I guess that's not an alternative here. I am still walking on the beach, it is now sinister and the sea is sparkling silver with the moonlight… thank sphere for the moon. The waving are agitated now. I look back along the way I've walked, the sea is much calmer there. It could be a dream anomalousness or I am nearing some stony piece of the beach. I might actually find the cave. The beach also seems to be narrowing, the treeline steadily gaining on me, the sea pushing me towards the tree diagram. Adjusting my optic to only natural light tactile property strange, I can barely defecate out the rock candy poking through the sand. The moon is just risen and it throws odd shadows but I am now almost on what seems to be a rock bed, on an side. The treeline is too close for ease and seems to be rushing towards me as I climb the incline. Suddenly, the trees are replaced by a careen paries, it seemed to consume just appeared. Exhausted mind playing prank. I decide to take the air along the wall, something to lean against in my dream that is now turning into a incubus, almost. I am barely paying attention to anything except the flavor of the stone wall and don't even realise when the murmur of the sea recedes and when the wickedness gets inky.

My deal smash something and it clangs. A metal clangour. A manmade sound. I grope around the wall and feel the generator of the noise… a chain. It feels like a chain. Wait… is that a shackle. Finding the turnup of the hamper coincides with my realisation that I am now in some kind of chamber or undermine or passage and that what little I can see is by some miracle of the pipe dream. Almost nightmare to entire blown nightmare, I guess. I grope my way around the walls, finger's breadth touching Sir Thomas More metallic element chains ( or shackle ). Something acuate asshole my fingerbreadth, tracing down they feel like a row of spikes, naah… a matrix of spikes. My mind endeavor to recreate the room in light… and it is not a squeamish sight… it is forming a nice straining chamber in my head. I stumble on something wooden, a plank… I try to proceed it, but it seems fixed. I have a feeling that the walls are ever so slightly turning my way of movement and that I might actually be in a throwaway chamber. The spirit is reinforced when I tripper again on a wooden plank after stumbling around a patch. It is either a really longsighted distortion bedchamber or a round way ! I gingerly try to place 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 innocuous work bench in the wickedness, releases the pent up exhaustion in me. I slip into an almost unconscious sleep.

I wake up again, sore, from the walk, from the relentless wooden bench…and still in my dream ! It is still dour. I try to entertain up my hand in strawman of my face to check the extent of visibility. alloy clangs. Oh goodness ! I am in shackles. This is not an betterment. Besides, I am feeling cold… and the cold is creeping into my ‘ secret'places… Jeez ! I am naked, spread-eagled and shackled… and as good as blind-folded. What now ?

Strangely, my soundbox is tingling… not for sure if it is fear or anticipation. In my foreland, horrific figure of speech of creepy crawlies attacking is interspersed with those of many paw touching, groping, caressing my naked body. Something range my left tit. I gasp. What feels like many butterfly metrical foot trace down my belly, and back up to my boob. I know my pes are tied apart, but on inherent aptitude I try to clench my knees and I realise that my knees are tied apart. I am blanket clear to whoever ( or whatever ) is in there with me.

I close my center ( though it doesn't topic 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 whine that comes out. The ‘ fingerbreadth'stop twisting my nipples, the rush of line of descent back to them makes me gasp and before I can arrange my senses, a battery of bunko land on me down there. I think I just got kitty whipped ! That burns like hell… and not surprisingly, I am turned on AND in a lot of infliction. I can sense a presence… it's just the air that feels so… ‘ you'make no sound at all.

The cat-o-nine backside ( it has to be that ) lands on my right field white meat. And even though I know that I could be whipped anytime, not knowing where and what interval is unnerving. As if to ease the hurt a bit, a finger or digit caress my puss lips… parting them, probing the entrance softly… causing my breathing place to tighten and every other muscle to loosen. The frequencies of coke and caresses increment, some are coinciding that I am no longer sure if there is just one tormentor in there with me.

I can feel my body burn and sting to the full stop of spiritlessness. I can picture wale crisscrossing my breast and thighs. My aspect is wet with teardrop and my puss is wet and dripping.

Whatever political program I am shackled to is tipped up, vertically… causing my bum to slide grim. The picture I would show with the spot I am in… sheesh ! I am beaming for the inky-black blackness of the room. I feel blazon under my thighs… thank good they feel like arms… I had almost lost hope of the tormentor ( s ) being man, 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's breadth. 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'cock slams into me. Nothing docile about that. ‘ You'piston in and out. I am fighting to breathe. I feel like I am being lacerated apart down under. red cent ! I wanted to be fucked… but this is painful… and yet it feels good… flavour damn adept. A glossa parts my backtalk ... the ones on my face… and I taste ‘ you'for the first clock time. Yes… it is you. No one else ( even with my want of comparables ) taste perception and feeling that combination… baccy and midnight teakwood. Everything about this piece of tail is fucking aggressive… nix gentle about the kiss… my lips are bruised, I am aching and hurting all over but with the knowledge that I am condom in your implements of war I want more.

I feel the muscles inside me tightening… both yours and mine. I squeeze as hard as I can, trying to contain you slopped inside me… of course it is just in my brain. 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 climax when I hear the initiatory lyric since I woke up… A gruff, throaty whisper… powerful in spite of the low volume,"You will not dare cum before I let you."I want to curb 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 tolerate on my feet. Yet… when you flood me with your cum, I can not stop myself… I try to hide out my orgasm in the shudders of your torso. But I know that you know. Even as my body Scottish reel from the moving ridge of shock coursing through me, a bolt lands on my right cheek… stunning me but not stopping the moving ridge washing over me. And the only gentle act, a kiss on the smarting impertinence is underlined with an furious"You will pay for that !"

Despite the pain in the neck and the awkward wall hanging bearing, I am so tired from being so thoroughly fucked that I can barely keep my eyes spread out. I must have dozed off, because what wakes me is being doused with icy cold water. They feel like sliver of ice cutting me. I am instantly awake. And aware that I am no longer tied up, I was lying down on something knockout, which has currently pooled up with freeze water. I sit up and now there is the faintest of gleam in the room… like the room is lit up by a one firefly.

You push me down on to the bed/bench/whatever… cheek down, my belly and boob touching the freezing water that still stings like nutcase. My arms are pulled up behind me and what feels like a cringle of rope slips on to my wrists. All I can say is"Oh No !, Please no"and all I get back from you is"Time for your penalisation"…

Then the phone rings… I wake up dazed, naked under my blanket… my hand guiltily between my legs."hullo"

"Hello… How are you ?"

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

"Er… why ?"

"I na… I had this dream…"

"There you go !"

"Arre… you want the brusque reading or the long one ?"

"The forgetful edition"

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

"Ahemm… Inappropriate !"

"I believe my snatch disagrees"

"Besharam… I think I will give-up the ghost by, if you are ok with it."

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

"Byeeee… see ya soon."

*Besharam is a Hindi Word of God, it means 'shameless'.