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

You get done with your shopping tripper and breakfast duties with your family and finally have some you fourth dimension. And of course of study, you have month end work to look into.

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

well, since I do not deliver anything else to do, I am free to slumber and possibly pipe dream of you. I snuggle up in my fluffy mantle ... just the blanket and nothing else.

I wake up on something lenient ... Amandine Aurore Lucie Dupin ... subdued, pristine grit filters through my fingerbreadth. It is weirdly dark, with points of illume peeking through. I realise that I have a straw hat covering my human face. I take the hat off and sit up ... the even sun is softly glowing above the horizon ( or is it dawn ? ). I remember sleeping naked, but I am now wearing a summer dress ... navy ... flowy, sexily silky to the mite. A beach. I am on a beach. Does n't seem like Kuwait ... the sand 's too sporting, like Champagne coloured sugar.

I stand up and dust myself ... A cool pushover blows, being naughty with the hem of my wearing apparel. I look around, it is dusk after all.. the sun 's going down. No sign of anyone. No planetary house of you. If this is a aspiration which I now honestly conceive it is, where the hell on earth are you ? The beach seems isolated, just the mussitation of the sea ... an casual seagull squawking. Inland, there seems to be zippo much… no sign of man life at least, darkening Sir Herbert Beerbohm Tree, not tropical. No tell-tale pin points of ignitor, no music nothing.

It is beautiful, serene and a little scarey. I am expectant of my aspiration to ferment the usual route… some demon, some animate being to point up… maybe a savage or a radical of wolf men… I look all dressed for a chase !

I walk along the beach, trying to assert an adequate distance to the shoreline and the treeline. I do not want to stick out in the out-of-doors when night falls and I do not want to wander into the trees ( they look menacing ). Maybe I will get some rocks, a cove, a cave… don't eff how that will be any less scary… but maybe I will line up one with igniter, big fluorescent illumination that contrast the cave walls and lead me to a way with a courteous bed and maybe you. Hey, it is a aspiration, I should be able to wish well for it and make it appear. Isn't that how dreams body of work ? Apparently not, as I seem to have been walking quite a while now with no sign of anything, not even monsters. I am exhausted now. Maybe it is clip to arouse up, for real.

I guess that's not an option here. I am still walking on the beach, it is now black and the sea is sparkling silver with the moonlight… thank heavens for the moon. 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 rough part of the beach. I might actually retrieve the cave. The beach also seems to be narrowing, the treeline steadily gaining on me, the sea pushing me towards the trees. Adjusting my eyes to only innate visible light flavour strange, I can barely make out the rocks poking through the Sand. The lunar month is just risen and it throws odd shadows but I am now almost on what seems to be a John 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 tree diagram are replaced by a rock-and-roll wall, it seemed to own just appeared. Exhausted mind playing tricks. I decide to walk along the wall, something to lean against in my dream that is now turning into a incubus, almost. I am barely paying aid to anything except the smell of the rock wall and don't even understand when the murmur of the sea recedes and when the iniquity gets inky.

My deal bang something and it clangs. A metal clang. A manmade sound. I grope around the wall and feel the author of the noise… a chain. It feels like a chain. Wait… is that a bond. Finding the turnup of the shackle coincides with my realisation that I am now in some sort of chamber or cave or passage and that what niggling I can see is by some miracle of the dreaming. Almost nightmare to to the full blown nightmare, I guess. I grope my way around the walls, digit touching more metal concatenation ( or shackle ). Something keen dent my finger, tracing down they feel like a row of stiletto heel, naah… a matrix of stiletto heel. My mind endeavor to recreate the room in light… and it is not a gracious sight… it is forming a gracious torment bedchamber in my headland. I stumble on something wooden, a plank… I try to move it, but it seems fixed. I have a flavour that the wall are ever so slightly turning my direction of movement and that I might actually be in a circular chamber. The feeling is reinforced when I trip again on a wooden plank after stumbling around a patch. It is either a really long torture bedroom or a round room ! I gingerly try to range 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 guiltless bench in the shadow, releases the pent up exhaustion in me. I slip into an almost unconscious sleep.

I wake up again, sore, from the manner of walking, from the unforgiving wooden bench…and still in my dreaming ! It is still dingy. I try to contain up my hand in front of my human face to check the extent of visibility. Metal 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 nude, spread-eagled and shackled… and as honest as blind-folded. What now ?

Strangely, my body is tingling… not sure if it is fear or prevision. In my straits, fearsome images of creepy crawlies attacking is interspersed with those of many hands touching, groping, caressing my naked body. Something grazes my entrust nipple. I gasp. What feels like many butterfly infantry trace down my belly, and back up to my boob. I know my feet are tied apart, but on instinct I try to clench my knees and I realise that my articulatio genus are tied apart. I am encompassing afford 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 obscure ) 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'stop twisting my nipples, the rush of blood back to them makes me heave and before I can stage my gumption, a barrage of stings Edwin Herbert Land on me down there. I think I just got kitty-cat whipped ! That 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'construct no sound at all.

The cat-o-nine tails ( it has to be that ) lands on my right breast. And even though I know that I could be whipped anytime, not knowing where and what time interval is unnerving. As if to ease the hurt a bit, a digit or fingers caress my pussy lips… parting them, probing the entry softly… causing my breathing time to tighten and every other heftiness to loosen. The frequencies of blows and caresses increase, some are co-occurrent 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 level of indifference. I can picture weal crisscrossing my breasts and second joint. My expression is wet with tears and my pussy is wet and dripping.

Whatever weapons platform I am shackled to is tipped up, vertically… causing my bum to slide humbled. The picture I would present with the position I am in… sheesh ! I am glad for the inky-black blackness of the room. I feel arms under my thighs… thank goodness they feel like arms… I had almost lost Hope of the tormenter ( s ) being human, let alone you. I think I know what is coming ... something severely, yet soft… parts my kitty-cat brim and it is definitely not a digit. I 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 shaft into me. Nothing gentle about that. ‘ You'piston in and out. I am fighting to rest. 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… flavour damn good. A natural language character my mouth ... the unity on my face… and I taste ‘ you'for the first metre. Yes… it is you. No one else ( even with my lack of comparables ) appreciation and look that combination… tobacco and midnight teakwood. Everything about this fucking is fucking aggressive… null gentle about the kiss… my brim are bruised, I am aching and hurting all over but with the knowledge that I am good 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 hold you mean inside me… of form it is just in my brain. beingness tied up like that all my squeezing is mental.

I am on the brink of what I know will be a shamefully, shatteringly awful orgasm when I hear the first lyric 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 take for 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 feet. Yet… when you flood me with your cum, I can not stop myself… I try to enshroud my orgasm in the shudders of your body. But I know that you know. Even as my physical structure reels from the waves of shock coursing through me, a slap soil on my right cheek… stunning me but not stopping the waves washing over me. And the entirely gentle act, a buss on the smart cheek is underlined with an raging"You will pay for that !"

Despite the pain and the ill-chosen hanging posture, I am so tired from being so thoroughly fucked that I can barely restrain my center unresolved. I must have dozed off, because what wakes me is being doused with icy cold water. They feel like matchwood of ice cutting me. I am instantly awake. And mindful that I am no longer tied up, I was lying down on something knockout, which has currently pooled up with immobilize water. I sit up and now there is the weak of glow in the room… like the way is lit up by a 1 firefly.

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

Then the telephone rings… I wake up dazed, naked under my blanket… my hand guiltily between my ramification."how-do-you-do"

"Hello… How are you ?"

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

"Er… why ?"

"I na… I had this dream…"

"There you go !"

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

"The dead variation"

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

"Ahemm… Inappropriate !"

"I believe my pussycat disagrees"

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

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

"Byeeee… see ya soon."

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