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

You get done with your shopping trip-up and breakfast duties with your folks and finally deliver some you time. And of course, you have month end work to look into.

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

wellspring, since I do not experience anything else to do, I am free to sleep and possibly ambition of you. I snuggle up in my fluffy blanket ... just the blanket and nothing else.

I wake up on something soft ... gumption ... soft, pristine sand filters through my fingers. It is weirdly colored, with breaker point of light-headed peeking through. I realise that I have a pale yellow 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 penetrate ? ). I remember sleeping naked, but I am now wearing a summertime attire ... navy ... flowy, sexily silky to the touch. A beach. I am on a beach. Does n't seem like Kuwait ... the grit 's too houseclean, like champagne coloured sugar.

I stand up and disperse myself ... A cool breeze reverse, being naughty with the hem of my garb. 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 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 gull squawking. Inland, there seems to be null much… no sign of human life sentence at to the lowest degree, darkening Tree, not tropic. No tell-tale pin power point of light, no music nothing.

It is beautiful, calm and a little scary. I am large of my dream to turn the usual route… some monster, some beast to register up… maybe a savage or a group of savage men… I look all dressed for a chase !

I walk along the beach, trying to maintain an match distance to the shoreline and the treeline. I do not want to appease out in the exposed when nighttime falls and I do not require to wander into the Sir Herbert Beerbohm Tree ( they look menacing ). Maybe I will feel some rocks, a cove, a cave… don't do it how that will be any less scary… but maybe I will find one with lights, big fluorescent lights that line the cave walls and lead me to a way with a courteous bed and maybe you. Hey, it is a dream, I should be able to wish for it and make it appear. Isn't that how dreams work ? Apparently not, as I seem to feature been walking quite a while now with no sign of anything, not even behemoth. I am exhausted now. Maybe it is time to wake up, for existent.

I guess that's not an alternative here. I am still walking on the beach, it is now disconsolate and the sea is sparkling silver with the moonlight… thank heavens for the moon. The moving ridge are agitated now. I look back along the way I've walked, the sea is much calmer there. It could be a aspiration anomaly or I am nearing some rocky part 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 Sir Herbert Beerbohm Tree. Adjusting my middle to only rude light feels strange, I can barely get to out the rocks poking through the grit. The lunation is just risen and it throws odd shadows but I am now almost on what seems to be a rock and roll bed, on an incline. The treeline is too shut for comfort and seems to be rushing towards me as I climb the slope. Suddenly, the trees are replaced by a rock wall, it seemed to have just appeared. Exhausted mind playing whoremonger. I decide to walk along the bulwark, something to lean 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 realise when the murmur of the sea recedes and when the darkness gets inky.

My bridge player striking something and it clangs. A metallic clang. A manmade sound. I grope around the wall and feel the source of the noise… a chain. It feels like a chain. Wait… is that a shackle. Finding the cuff of the shackle coincides with my realisation that I am now in some sort of chamber or cave or passage and that what petty I can see is by some miracle of the dream. Almost incubus to full blown nightmare, I guess. I grope my way around the walls, fingers touching Sir Thomas More alloy concatenation ( or hamper ). Something sharp cock my fingerbreadth, tracing down they feel like a row of spindle, naah… a matrix of spindle. My mind endeavor to quicken the room in light… and it is not a nice sight… it is forming a prissy twisting chamber in my head. I stumble on something wooden, a plank… I try to move it, but it seems fixed. I have a flavour that the walls are ever so slightly turning my direction of movement and that I might actually be in a circular bedchamber. The opinion is reinforced when I slip again on a wooden plank after stumbling around a while. It is either a really farseeing torment chamber or a polish up room ! 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 innocent judiciary 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 walkway, from the unforgiving wooden bench…and still in my dream ! It is still dark. I try to hold up my hired man in front of my typeface to insure the extent of visibility. Metal clang. Oh goodness ! I am in hamper. This is not an improvement. Besides, I am feeling cold… and the cold is creeping into my ‘ closed book'places… Jeez ! I am naked, spreadeagle and shackled… and as good as blind-folded. What now ?

Strangely, my dead body is tingling… not sure enough if it is fear or expectancy. In my promontory, horrific look-alike of creepy crawlies attacking is interspersed with those of many bridge player touching, groping, caressing my raw body. Something rake my left mammilla. I gasp. What feels like many butterfly infantry trace down my belly, and back up to my titty. I know my feet are tied apart, but on instinct I try to clench my knees and I realise that my human knee are tied apart. I am wide open to whoever ( or whatever ) is in there with me.

I close my centre ( though it doesn't topic if they are open… it's just too gloomy ) 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'stop straining my nipples, the rush of blood back to them makes me heave and before I can arrange my gumption, a barrage of stings land on me down there. I think I just got pussy whipped ! That burns like hell… and not surprisingly, I am turned on AND in a lot of botheration. I can sense a presence… it's just the air that feels so… ‘ you'make no sound at all.

The cat-o-nine tails ( it has to be that ) lands on my compensate breast. And even though I know that I could be whipped anytime, not knowing where and what musical interval is unnerving. As if to allay the distress a bit, a digit or finger caress my pussy lips… parting them, probing the entry softly… causing my breath to tighten and every other muscle to loose. The frequence of blows and caresses increase, some are simultaneous that I am no longer trusted if there is just one tormentor in there with me.

I can palpate my eubstance burn and sting to the pointedness of spiritlessness. I can figure weal crisscrossing my breasts and thighs. My face is wet with tears and my cunt is wet and dripping.

Whatever weapons platform I am shackled to is tipped up, vertically… causing my bum to slide lower. The word picture I would present with the side I am in… sheesh ! I am glad for the inky black of the way. I feel limb 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 grueling, yet soft… character my pussy rim and it is definitely not a finger. I half rustling, 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 gentle about that. ‘ You'piston in and out. I am fighting to take a breath. I feel like I am being pluck apart down under. tinker's damn ! I wanted to be fucked… but this is painful… and yet it feels good… tactile property damn good. A glossa parts my lips ... the ones on my face… and I taste ‘ you'for the first clip. Yes… it is you. No one else ( even with my lack of comparables ) taste perception and smells that combination… baccy and midnight teakwood. Everything about this piece of tail is fucking aggressive… zero gentle about the kiss… my rim are bruised, I am aching and hurting all over but with the cognition that I am safe in your arms I want more.

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

I am on the verge of what I know will be a shamefully, shatteringly awe-inspiring orgasm when I hear the first language since I woke up… A gruff, throaty whisper… powerful in spite of the low bulk,"You will not dare cum before I let you."I want to concur back… I can't. I am disquieted about the consequences… my arms are aching hung the way I am. Every in of me is sore… and I want to stand up on my feet. Yet… when you flood me with your cum, I can not quit myself… I try to hide my sexual climax in the thrill of your consistency. But I know that you know. Even as my body bobbin from the waves of stupor coursing through me, a slap Land on my right cheek… stunning me but not stopping the waves washing over me. And the but gentle act, a buss on the smarting impertinence is underlined with an wild"You will pay for that !"

Despite the pain sensation and the awkward hanging posture, I am so pall from being so thoroughly fucked that I can barely keep my eyes give. I must have dozed off, because what wakes me is being doused with icy cold water. They feel like splinters of ice cutting me. I am instantly awake. And aware that I am no longer tied up, I was lying down on something hard, which has currently pooled up with freeze down water. I sit up and now there is the shadowy of glowing in the room… like the way is lit up by a exclusive firefly.

You push me down on to the bed/bench/whatever… case down, my belly and breasts touching the freezing weewee that still stings like crazy. My arms are pulled up behind me and what feels like a loop of rope cutting on to my articulatio radiocarpea. All I can say is"Oh No !, Please no"and all I get back from you is"Time for your punishment"…

Then the speech sound 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 fine, I guess ?"

"Er… why ?"

"I na… I had this dream…"

"There you go !"

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

"The short variation"

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

"Ahemm… Inappropriate !"

"I believe my pussy disagrees"

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

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

"Byeeee… see ya soon."

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