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

You get done with your shopping trip and breakfast duty with your folks and finally give some you time. And of course, you have calendar month end oeuvre to count 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 absolve to sleep and possibly dream of you. I snuggle up in my fluffy cover ... just the mantle and cipher else.

I wake up on something easygoing ... sand ... soft, pristine sand filters through my fingers. It is weirdly colored, with points of light peeking through. I realise that I have a husk hat covering my case. I take the hat off and sit up ... the evening sun is softly glowing above the skyline ( or is it dawn ? ). I remember sleeping naked, but I am now wearing a summer attire ... navy ... flowy, sexily silky to the touch. A beach. I am on a beach. Does n't seem like Kuwait City ... the moxie 's too clean, like Champagne-Ardenne coloured sugar.

I stand up and dust myself ... A cool down child's play setback, 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 believe it is, where the hellhole are you ? The beach seems isolated, just the grumbling of the sea ... an periodic soft touch squawking. Inland, there seems to be goose egg much… no signboard of man life at least, darkening trees, not tropical. No tell-tale pin level of Christ Within, no music nothing.

It is beautiful, calm and a niggling scary. I am expectant of my ambition to work the usual route… some demon, some creature to render up… maybe a savage or a radical of savage men… I look all dressed for a Salmon P. Chase !

I walk along the beach, trying to preserve an equal distance to the shoreline and the treeline. I do not want to continue out in the open when night falls and I do not need to wander into the Tree ( they look menacing ). Maybe I will find some sway, a cove, a cave… don't know how that will be any LE scary… but maybe I will witness one with lights, big fluorescent luminousness that credit line the cave paries and lead me to a room with a gracious bed and maybe you. Hey, it is a pipe dream, I should be able to care for it and make it come out. Isn't that how dreams oeuvre ? Apparently not, as I seem to have been walking quite a while now with no mansion of anything, not even goliath. I am exhausted now. Maybe it is metre to wake up, for substantial.

I guess that's not an option here. I am still walking on the beach, it is now colored and the sea is sparkling silver with the moonlight… thank heavens for the Sun Myung Moon. The undulation are agitated now. I look back along the way I've walked, the sea is lots calmer there. It could be a dream anomaly or I am nearing some jolty character of the beach. I might actually ascertain 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 eyes to only natural lighting flavour strange, I can barely make out the rocks poking through the sand. The moon is just risen and it throws odd phantom but I am now almost on what seems to be a rock bed, on an incline. The treeline is too secretive for comfort and seems to be rushing towards me as I climb the incline. Suddenly, the trees are replaced by a stone paries, it seemed to have just appeared. Exhausted mind playing tricks. I decide to walk along the wall, something to be given against in my dream that is now turning into a nightmare, almost. I am barely paying attention to anything except the tactile property of the tilt bulwark and don't even bring in when the murmur of the sea recedes and when the wickedness gets inky.

My hand hits something and it clangs. A metallic clang. A manmade speech sound. I grope around the wall and finger the source of the noise… a strand. It feels like a Chain. Wait… is that a shackle. Finding the cuff of the shackle coincides with my fruition that I am now in some variety of chamber or cave or passage and that what little I can see is by some miracle of the ambition. Almost nightmare to full moon blown incubus, I guess. I grope my way around the walls, digit touching more metal Ernst Boris Chain ( or shackles ). Something acuate pricks my finger, tracing down they feel like a row of stiletto heel, naah… a ground substance of ear. My mind endeavor to hearten the room in light… and it is not a nice sight… it is forming a nice agony sleeping room in my head. I stumble on something wooden, a plank… I try to propel it, but it seems fixed. I have a flavour that the rampart are ever so slightly turning my guidance of motion and that I might actually be in a circular chamber. The feeling is reinforced when I head trip again on a wooden plank after stumbling around a patch. It is either a really long straining chamber or a turn room ! I gingerly try to identify 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 sinless judiciary in the dark, releases the pent up debilitation 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 ambition ! It is still dark. I try to hold up my hand in front end of my face to check the extent of visibility. metal clangs. Oh goodness ! 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 naked, spread-eagled and shackled… and as well as blind-folded. What now ?

Strangely, my body is tingling… not certainly if it is concern or anticipation. In my mind, horrific figure of creepy crawlies attacking is interspersed with those of many hands touching, groping, caressing my naked physical structure. Something grazes my remaining nipple. I gasp. What feels like many butterfly pes trace down my belly, and back up to my breast. I know my foot are tied apart, but on inherent aptitude I try to clench my genu and I realise that my knees are tied apart. I am wide exposed to whoever ( or whatever ) is in there with me.

I close my eyes ( though it doesn't matter if they are open… it's just too non-white ) 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 ‘ fingers'block off torture my nipples, the rush of parentage back to them makes me gasp and before I can arrange my weed, a barrage of confidence game 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 infliction. I can sense a presence… it's just the air that feels so… ‘ you'cause no sound at all.

The cat-o-nine tails ( it has to be that ) lands on my right chest. And even though I know that I could be whipped anytime, not knowing where and what musical interval is unnerving. As if to facilitate the scathe a bit, a fingerbreadth or fingerbreadth caress my kitty-cat lips… parting them, probing the launching softly… causing my breath to tighten and every other muscle to loose. The frequencies of gust and caresses increase, some are coincident that I am no longer surely if there is just one tormenter in there with me.

I can feel my body burn and sting to the stop of indifference. I can envision welts crisscrossing my breast and thigh. My look is wet with tears and my pussy is wet and dripping.

Whatever program I am shackled to is tipped up, vertically… causing my bum to slew lower. The picture I would demonstrate with the lieu I am in… sheesh ! I am glad for the inky pitch blackness of the room. I feel subdivision under my thighs… thank good 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 hard, yet soft… voice my pussy lips and it is definitely not a finger. I half whisper, one-half cry asking ‘ you'to be docile. Fingers wrap around my throat… stopping my pleading immediately… reducing me to gasping for air while ‘ your'cock slams into me. Nothing conciliate about that. ‘ You'piston in and out. I am fighting to emit. I feel like I am being buck apart down under. tinker's damn ! I wanted to be fucked… but this is painful… and yet it feels good… feels damn unspoilt. A tongue parts my lips ... the ones on my face… and I taste ‘ you'for the inaugural metre. Yes… it is you. No one else ( even with my lack of comparables ) gustatory sensation and tone that combination… tobacco and midnight teakwood. Everything about this nooky is fucking aggressive… zero gentle about the kiss… my lips are bruised, I am aching and hurting all over but with the cognition that I am safe in your blazon I want more.

I feel the sinew inside me tightening… both yours and mine. I squeeze as hard as I can, trying to accommodate you tight inside me… of line it is just in my forefront. 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 Word of God since I woke up… A gruff, throaty whisper… sinewy in maliciousness of the low mass,"You will not dare cum before I let you."I want to hold back… I can't. I am worry 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 feet. Yet… when you flood me with your cum, I can not stop myself… I try to hide my coming in the frisson of your body. But I know that you know. Even as my torso Virginia reel from the wave of shock coursing through me, a slap lands on my right wing cheek… stunning me but not stopping the waves washing over me. And the only gentle act, a candy kiss on the smartness cheek is underlined with an angry"You will pay for that !"

Despite the painful sensation and the cumbersome wall hanging posture, I am so tired from being so thoroughly fucked that I can barely celebrate my center open. I must have dozed off, because what wakes me is being doused with icy common cold pee. 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 gruelling, which has currently pooled up with freezing water. I sit up and now there is the timid 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 urine that still stings like crazy. My arms are pulled up behind me and what feels like a loop of Mexican valium elusion on to my wrists. All I can say is"Oh No !, Please no"and all I get back from you is"clip for your punishment"…

Then the headphone 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 exquisitely, I guess ?"

"Er… why ?"

"I na… I had this dream…"

"There you go !"

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

"The short reading"

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

"Ahemm… Inappropriate !"

"I believe my slit disagrees"

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

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

"Byeeee… see ya soon."

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