It 's the break we have been waiting for ... one that does not need us taking any off sidereal day at work.

You get done with your shopping trips and breakfast tariff with your folk and finally have 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 spare some time and that 's what matters.

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

I wake up on something easy ... sand ... diffused, pristine sand filters through my fingers. It is weirdly glum, with points of ignite peeking through. I realise that I have a straw hat covering my face. I take the hat off and sit up ... the even sun is softly glowing above the visible horizon ( or is it get through ? ). I remember sleeping naked, but I am now wearing a summer garb ... navy ... flowy, sexily silky to the touch. A beach. I am on a beach. Does n't seem like capital of Kuwait ... the sand 's too clean, like Champagne-Ardenne coloured sugar.

I stand up and sprinkle myself ... A assuredness gentle wind reversal, being naughty with the hem of my dress. 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 believe it is, where the hell are you ? The beach seems isolated, just the murmur of the sea ... an episodic soft touch squawking. Inland, there seems to be nothing much… no sign of human liveliness at least, darkening tree, not tropical. No tell-tale pin points of light source, no music nothing.

It is beautiful, unagitated and a little scary. I am expectant of my ambition to bend the usual route… some goliath, some wolf to show up… maybe a brute or a group of savage men… I look all dressed for a chase !

I walk along the beach, trying to maintain an rival distance to the shoreline and the treeline. I do not desire to stay put out in the open when night falls and I do not need to wander into the trees ( they look menacing ). Maybe I will detect some rocks, a cove, a cave… don't know how that will be any lupus erythematosus scary… but maybe I will retrieve one with twinkle, big fluorescent lights that line the cave paries and head me to a room with a nice bed and maybe you. Hey, it is a ambition, I should be able-bodied to wish well for it and earn it appear. Isn't that how dreams study ? Apparently not, as I seem to have been walking quite a while now with no foretoken of anything, not even monstrosity. I am exhausted now. Maybe it is prison term to wake up, for real.

I guess that's not an alternative here. I am still walking on the beach, it is now dark and the sea is sparkling silver with the moonlight… thank heavens for the lunation. 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 portion 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 trees. Adjusting my eye to only natural brightness feel strange, I can barely make out the rock-and-roll poking through the grit. The lunar month is just risen and it throws odd vestige but I am now almost on what seems to be a rock bed, on an incline. The treeline is too confining for comfortableness and seems to be rushing towards me as I climb the slope. Suddenly, the Tree are replaced by a rock rampart, it seemed to have just appeared. Exhausted mind playing fast one. I decide to take the air along the wall, something to tend against in my pipe dream that is now turning into a incubus, almost. I am barely paying attention to anything except the feel of the rock wall and don't even see when the murmur vowel of the sea recedes and when the darkness gets inky.

My hand hits something and it clangs. A metal clank. A manmade sound. I grope around the wall and feel the source of the noise… a chain. It feels like a mountain range. Wait… is that a shackle. Finding the cuff of the shackle coincides with my recognition that I am now in some sort of chamber or cave or passage and that what little I can see is by some miracle of the dream. Almost nightmare to wax blown incubus, I guess. I grope my way around the paries, digit touching more metallic element chains ( or shackles ). Something acute pricks my finger, tracing down they feel like a row of spikes, naah… a matrix of capitulum. My mind effort to revivify the room in light… and it is not a nice sight… it is forming a nice torture chamber in my head. I stumble on something wooden, a plank… I try to impress it, but it seems fixed. I have a tactile sensation that the wall are ever so slightly turning my steering of drive and that I might actually be in a circular sleeping accommodation. The feeling is reinforced when I head trip again on a wooden plank after stumbling around a while. It is either a really foresightful distortion sleeping accommodation or a polish room ! I gingerly try to post 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 sleep.

I wake up again, sore, from the walk, from the unappeasable wooden bench…and still in my dream ! It is still glowering. I try to hold up my handwriting in strawman of my face to check the extent of visibility. Metal clangor. Oh good ! I am in shackles. This is not an improvement. Besides, I am feeling cold… and the cold is creeping into my ‘ secret'places… Jeez ! I am bare, spreadeagle and shackled… and as dear as blind-folded. What now ?

Strangely, my consistence is tingling… not surely if it is awe or expectancy. In my head, horrid images of creepy crawlies attacking is interspersed with those of many manus touching, groping, caressing my naked body. Something grazes my left nipple. 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 stifle are tied apart. I am all-inclusive open 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 overrefinement my teat, the rush of blood line back to them makes me heave and before I can arrange my senses, a barrage fire of stings nation 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 infliction. I can sense a presence… it's just the air that feels so… ‘ you'build no sound at all.

The cat-o-nine tails ( it has to be that ) lands on my right knocker. 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's breadth or fingers caress my snatch lips… parting them, probing the entry softly… causing my hint to constrain and every other muscle to tease apart. The frequencies of blows and caresses increase, some are coincidental that I am no longer sure as shooting if there is just one persecutor in there with me.

I can experience my body burn and sting to the distributor point of indifference. I can depict welts crisscrossing my breasts and thighs. My face is wet with split and my pussy is wet and dripping.

Whatever platform I am shackled to is tipped up, vertically… causing my bum to slue lower. The image I would portray with the position I am in… sheesh ! I am gladiola for the inky blackness of the elbow room. I feel arms under my thighs… thank goodness they feel like arms… I had almost lost promise of the tormentor ( s ) being human, let alone you. I think I know what is coming ... something hard, yet soft… function my pussy sass and it is definitely not a fingerbreadth. I half whisper, half cry asking ‘ you'to be lenify. Fingers wrap around my throat… stopping my pleading immediately… reducing me to gasping for air while ‘ your'cock shot into me. zilch gentle about that. ‘ You'piston in and out. I am fighting to breathe. 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… look damn good. A tongue parts my lips ... the single on my face… and I taste ‘ you'for the first meter. Yes… it is you. No one else ( even with my want of comparables ) gustatory sensation and odor that combination… tobacco and midnight teak. Everything about this fucking is fucking aggressive… cipher gentle about the kiss… my lips are bruised, I am aching and hurting all over but with the noesis that I am prophylactic in your arm I want more.

I feel the musculus inside me tightening… both yours and mine. I squeeze as hard as I can, trying to have got you tight inside me… of course it is just in my head. existence tied up like that all my squeezing is mental.

I am on the verge of what I know will be a shamefully, shatteringly awesome orgasm when I hear the first Scripture since I woke up… A gruff, throaty whisper… powerful in spite of the low mass,"You will not presume cum before I let you."I want to hold back… I can't. I am worried about the consequences… my branch 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 my orgasm in the shudders of your body. But I know that you know. Even as my soundbox reels from the waving of stupor coursing through me, a bolt Din Land on my powerful cheek… stunning me but not stopping the waves washing over me. And the only gentle act, a kiss on the smartness cheek is underlined with an tempestuous"You will pay for that !"

Despite the pain sensation and the awkward hanging position, I am so wear upon from being so thoroughly fucked that I can barely hold back my eyes open. I must birth dozed off, because what wakes me is being doused with icy low temperature 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. I sit up and now there is the weak of luminescence in the room… like the way is lit up by a undivided firefly.

You push me down on to the bed/bench/whatever… nerve down, my belly and white meat touching the freeze H2O that still stings like nutcase. My arm are pulled up behind me and what smell like a loop of rope slickness on to my wrists. All I can say is"Oh No !, Please no"and all I get back from you is"prison term for your punishment"…

Then the headphone rings… I wake up dazed, naked under my blanket… my script guiltily between my branch."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 forgetful version or the long 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 pass by, if you are ok with it."

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

"Byeeee… see ya soon."

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