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

You get done with your shopping trip-up and breakfast obligation with your folk and finally have got some you time. And of course of action, you have month end work to await 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 feature anything else to do, I am complimentary to catch some Z's and possibly dream of you. I snuggle up in my fluffy blanket ... just the blanket and nothing else.

I wake up on something soft ... grit ... delicate, pristine Sand filters through my digit. It is weirdly dark, with level of light peeking through. I realise that I have a husk hat covering my face. I take the hat off and sit up ... the eventide sun is softly glowing above the apparent horizon ( or is it dawn ? ). I remember sleeping naked, but I am now wearing a summer dress ... navy ... flowy, sexily silky to the sense of touch. A beach. I am on a beach. Does n't seem like Kuwait ... the gumption 's too clean, like champagne coloured sugar.

I stand up and dust myself ... A coolheaded breeze blows, 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 preindication of you. If this is a pipe dream which I now honestly think it is, where the hell are you ? The beach seems isolated, just the murmur of the sea ... an occasional mug squawking. Inland, there seems to be nothing much… no sign of human being life at to the lowest degree, darkening Tree, not tropic. No tell-tale pin head of lightness, no music nothing.

It is beautiful, calm and a niggling scarey. I am large of my dream to rick the common route… some monster, some beast to depict up… maybe a savage or a group of savage men… I look all dressed for a Salmon Portland Chase !

I walk along the beach, trying to maintain an match distance to the shoreline and the treeline. I do not need to stay out in the open when night falls and I do not desire to wander into the tree ( they look menacing ). Maybe I will see some rocks, a cove, a cave… don't recognise how that will be any less scary… but maybe I will encounter one with lights, big fluorescent luminance that assembly line the cave walls and leave me to a elbow room with a prissy bed and maybe you. Hey, it is a dream, I should be able to wish for it and pee it appear. Isn't that how dreams work ? Apparently not, as I seem to deliver been walking quite a while now with no sign of anything, not even monstrosity. I am exhausted now. Maybe it is time to heat up, for real.

I guess that's not an option here. I am still walking on the beach, it is now sinister and the sea is sparkling silver with the moonlight… thank heavens for the synodic month. The wave are agitated now. I look back along the way I've walked, the sea is a great deal calmer there. It could be a dreaming anomaly or I am nearing some stony part of the beach. I might actually receive the cave. The beach also seems to be specify, the treeline steadily gaining on me, the sea pushing me towards the tree. Adjusting my eyes to only rude luminosity feels strange, I can barely reach out the rock music poking through the sand. The synodic month is just risen and it throws odd shadows 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 tricks. I decide to walk along the wall, something to list against in my dream 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 substantiate when the murmur of the sea recedes and when the dark gets inky.

My helping hand hits something and it clangs. A metallic clank. A manmade strait. I grope around the wall and sense the source of the noise… a chain. It feels like a chain. Wait… is that a shackle. Finding the manacle of the trammel coincides with my realisation that I am now in some variety of chamber or undermine or passage and that what little I can see is by some miracle of the pipe dream. Almost incubus to broad blown incubus, I guess. I grope my way around the walls, finger's breadth touching to a greater extent metal chains ( or bond ). Something sharp pecker my fingerbreadth, tracing down they feel like a row of spikes, naah… a matrix of stiletto heel. My nous tries to revive the elbow room in light… and it is not a prissy sight… it is forming a dainty torturing chamber in my head. 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 direction of motion and that I might actually be in a circular bedroom. The intuitive feeling is reinforced when I head trip again on a wooden plank after stumbling around a patch. It is either a really long agony chamber or a round room ! I gingerly try to localize 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 dark, 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 unforgiving wooden bench…and still in my dream ! It is still obscure. I try to hold up my hand in battlefront of my face to check the extent of profile. alloy clangour. Oh good ! I am in bond. This is not an improvement. Besides, I am feeling cold… and the frigidness is creeping into my ‘ secret'places… Jeez ! I am naked, spread-eagled and shackled… and as in effect as blind-folded. What now ?

Strangely, my dead body is tingling… not sure if it is fear or anticipation. In my top dog, dire images of creepy crawlies attacking is interspersed with those of many hands touching, groping, caressing my raw torso. Something grazes my left teat. I gasp. What feels like many butterfly metrical foot trace down my belly, and back up to my breast. I know my feet are tied apart, but on instinct I try to clinch my knees and I realise that my knees are tied apart. I am wide-eyed assailable to whoever ( or whatever ) is in there with me.

I close my optic ( though it doesn't matter 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 ‘ fingers'stop twisting my nipples, the rush of line back to them makes me heave and before I can format my grass, a barrage of bunko game estate on me down there. I think I just got kitty-cat whipped ! That Robert Burns like hell… and not surprisingly, I am turned on AND in a lot of pain. I can sense a presence… it's just the air that feels so… ‘ you'make no strait at all.

The cat-o-nine bum ( it has to be that ) lands on my right on white meat. And even though I know that I could be whipped anytime, not knowing where and what separation is unnerving. As if to still the suffering a bit, a finger or fingers caress my kitty-cat lips… parting them, probing the entry softly… causing my breath to tighten and every other muscle to tease apart. The frequencies of gust and caresses increase, some are concurrent that I am no longer sure if there is just one tormentor in there with me.

I can experience my torso burn and sting to the full point of indifference. I can picture welt crisscrossing my breasts and second joint. My face is wet with split and my pussycat is wet and dripping.

Whatever platform I am shackled to is tipped up, vertically… causing my bum to slew lower. The picture I would award with the position I am in… sheesh ! I am gladiola for the inky blackness of the room. I feel arms under my thighs… thank goodness they feel like arms… I had almost lost hope of the persecutor ( s ) being human, let alone you. I think I know what is coming ... something concentrated, yet soft… parts my pussy mouth and it is definitely not a finger. I one-half whisper, half cry asking ‘ you'to be gentle. finger wrap around my throat… stopping my pleading immediately… reducing me to gasping for air while ‘ your'cock sweep into me. Nothing gentle about that. ‘ You'piston in and out. I am fighting to take a breather. 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… smell damn soundly. A spit share my lip ... the 1 on my face… and I taste ‘ you'for the first base clock time. Yes… it is you. No one else ( even with my deficiency of comparables ) predilection and aroma that combination… tobacco and midnight teakwood. Everything about this fucking is fucking aggressive… goose egg gentle about the kiss… my lips are bruised, I am aching and hurting all over but with the knowledge that I am safe in your weapon I want more.

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

I am on the sceptre of what I know will be a shamefully, shatteringly awe-inspiring climax when I hear the first words since I woke up… A gruff, throaty whisper… powerful in spite of the low book,"You will not dare cum before I let you."I want to harbor back… I can't. I am worried about the consequences… my arms are aching hung the way I am. Every column inch of me is sore… and I want to stand on my base. Yet… when you flood me with your cum, I can not stop myself… I try to hide my coming in the shudders of your dead body. But I know that you know. Even as my body bobbin from the waves of shock coursing through me, a slap lands on my right cheek… stunning me but not stopping the undulation washing over me. And the only gentle act, a kiss on the smarting cheek is underlined with an angry"You will pay for that !"

Despite the nuisance and the awkward suspension posture, I am so threadbare from being so thoroughly fucked that I can barely keep my eye unfold. I must have dozed off, because what wakes me is being doused with icy moth-eaten water. They feel like splinters of ice cutting me. I am instantly awake. And mindful that I am no longer tied up, I was lying down on something hard, which has currently pooled up with freezing water supply. I sit up and now there is the faintest of glows in the room… like the elbow room is lit up by a single firefly.

You push me down on to the bed/bench/whatever… face down, my belly and breasts touching the freezing water supply that still stings like crazy. My weaponry are pulled up behind me and what smell like a loop of rope faux pas on to my wrists. All I can say is"Oh No !, Please no"and all I get back from you is"Time for your punishment"…

Then the phone 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 ticket, I guess ?"

"Er… why ?"

"I na… I had this dream…"

"There you go !"

"Arre… you want the forgetful version or the farsighted one ?"

"The forgetful reading"

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

"Ahemm… Inappropriate !"

"I believe my pussy disagrees"

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

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

"Byeeee… see ya soon."

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