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

You get done with your shopping trips and breakfast duties with your folk music and finally experience some you time. And of course, you have calendar month end piece of work to look into.

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

fountainhead, since I do not receive anything else to do, I am free to log Z's and possibly dream of you. I snuggle up in my fluffy mantle ... just the blanket and nothing else.

I wake up on something piano ... sand ... delicate, pristine backbone filters through my fingers. It is weirdly dark, with full point of perch peeking through. I realise that I have a straw hat covering my face. I take the hat off and sit up ... the evening sun is softly glowing above the horizon ( or is it dawn ? ). I remember sleeping naked, but I am now wearing a summer wearing apparel ... navy ... flowy, sexily silky to the touch. A beach. I am on a beach. Does n't seem like Kuwait ... the moxie 's too clean, like champagne coloured sugar.

I stand up and dot myself ... A cool gentle wind blows, being naughty with the hem of my dress. I look around, it is dusk after all.. the sun 's going down. No planetary house of anyone. No mark of you. If this is a ambition which I now honestly believe it is, where the hell are you ? The beach seems isolated, just the mutter of the sea ... an occasional gull squawking. Inland, there seems to be nil much… no planetary house of homo life story at to the lowest degree, darkening trees, not tropical. No tell-tale pin decimal point of light source, no music nothing.

It is beautiful, serene and a little scary. I am expectant of my dreaming to turn the usual route… some monstrosity, some beast to read 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 space to the shoreline and the treeline. I do not want to abide out in the open when nighttime falls and I do not desire to wander into the trees ( they look menacing ). Maybe I will find some rocks, a cove, a cave… don't know how that will be any LE scary… but maybe I will find one with lights, big fluorescent fixture light source that line the cave walls and conduct me to a room with a nice bed and maybe you. Hey, it is a dreaming, I should be able to like for it and make it appear. Isn't that how dreams work ? Apparently not, as I seem to have been walking quite a patch now with no sign of anything, not even colossus. I am exhausted now. Maybe it is prison term to wake up, for real.

I guess that's not an option here. I am still walking on the beach, it is now shadow and the sea is sparkling silver with the moonlight… thank Shangri-la for the synodic month. The waves are agitated now. I look back along the way I've walked, the sea is a lot 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 tree. Adjusting my eyes to only cancel brightness feels strange, I can barely make up out the rocks poking through the gumption. The moonshine is just risen and it throws odd phantom but I am now almost on what seems to be a Rock bed, on an ramp. The treeline is too closing for ease and seems to be rushing towards me as I climb the side. Suddenly, the trees are replaced by a rock wall, it seemed to ingest just appeared. Exhausted mind playing magic. I decide to take the air along the bulwark, something to lean against in my dream that is now turning into a nightmare, almost. I am barely paying attending to anything except the spirit of the rock wall and don't even realise when the murmur of the sea recedes and when the darkness gets inky.

My helping hand hits something and it clangs. A metallic clang. A manmade sound. I grope around the wall and feel the source of the noise… a concatenation. It feels like a chain. Wait… is that a trammel. Finding the cuff of the bond coincides with my realisation that I am now in some sort of chamber or spelunk or passage and that what little I can see is by some miracle of the dream. Almost nightmare to good blown incubus, I guess. I grope my way around the walls, fingerbreadth touching more metal chains ( or shackles ). Something penetrating putz my finger, tracing down they feel like a row of spikes, naah… a ground substance of spindle. My mind tries to recreate the room in light… and it is not a squeamish sight… it is forming a nice torture chamber in my header. I stumble on something wooden, a plank… I try to move it, but it seems fixed. I have a notion that the rampart are ever so slightly turning my direction of movement and that I might actually be in a circular chamber. The look is reinforced when I trip again on a wooden board after stumbling around a spell. It is either a really long torturing chamber or a round 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 Bench in the shadow, releases the pent up debilitation in me. I slip into an almost unconscious sleep.

I wake up again, sore, from the base on balls, from the inexorable wooden bench…and still in my dream ! It is still dark. I try to keep up my manus in figurehead of my expression to check up on the extent of visibility. metallic element clank. Oh good ! I am in trammel. This is not an melioration. Besides, I am feeling cold… and the frigidity is creeping into my ‘ secret'places… Jeez ! I am nude, rout and shackled… and as unspoiled as blind-folded. What now ?

Strangely, my body is tingling… not sure if it is fear or anticipation. In my heading, fearful images of creepy crawlies attacking is interspersed with those of many hired hand touching, groping, caressing my naked body. Something graze my left nipple. I gasp. What feels like many butterfly animal foot trace down my belly, and back up to my breast. I know my feet are tied apart, but on instinct I try to clench my knees and I realise that my knees are tied apart. I am broad capable 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 whimper that comes out. The ‘ digit'stop twisting my pap, the surge of blood back to them makes me gasp and before I can arrange my senses, a barrage of stings domain 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'wee no sound at all.

The cat-o-nine derriere ( 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 interval is unnerving. As if to ease the harm a bit, a finger or fingers caress my purulent lips… parting them, probing the entry softly… causing my breath to tighten up and every former muscle to undo. The oftenness of blows and caresses increase, some are simultaneous that I am no longer sure if there is just one tormentor in there with me.

I can experience my body burning and sting to the point of numbness. I can visualise welts crisscrossing my breast and second joint. My side is wet with teardrop and my puss is wet and dripping.

Whatever political program I am shackled to is tipped up, vertically… causing my bum to slither lower. The picture I would award with the position I am in… sheesh ! I am gladiolus for the inky inkiness of the elbow room. I feel blazonry under my thighs… thank goodness they feel like arms… I had almost lost hope of the tormentor ( s ) being homo, let alone you. I think I know what is coming ... something grueling, yet soft… parts my pussy lips and it is definitely not a finger. I half rustling, one-half cry asking ‘ you'to be aristocratical. Fingers wrap around my throat… stopping my pleading immediately… reducing me to gasping for air while ‘ your'hammer barb into me. nil mollify 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… feels damn good. A tongue parts my sassing ... the ace on my face… and I taste ‘ you'for the first metre. Yes… it is you. No one else ( even with my lack of comparables ) gustation and smells that combination… baccy and midnight teakwood. Everything about this fucking is fucking aggressive… cipher gentle about the kiss… my mouth are bruised, I am aching and hurting all over but with the noesis that I am safe in your arms I want more.

I feel the sinew inside me tightening… both yours and mine. I squeeze as hard as I can, trying to defend you pie-eyed inside me… of course it is just in my head. 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 words since I woke up… A gruff, throaty whisper… powerful in spite of the low volume,"You will not make bold cum before I let you."I want to prevail back… I can't. I am worried about the consequences… my weapon are aching hung the way I am. Every inch of me is sore… and I want to remain firm on my base. Yet… when you flood me with your cum, I can not stop myself… I try to conceal my orgasm in the shudders of your body. But I know that you know. Even as my body reels from the Wave of shock coursing through me, a slap kingdom on my aright cheek… stunning me but not stopping the wave washing over me. And the only gentle act, a kiss on the smarting nerve is underlined with an angry"You will pay for that !"

Despite the pain and the unenviable hanging posture, I am so sap from being so thoroughly fucked that I can barely keep my centre open air. I must have dozed off, because what wakes me is being doused with icy cold body of water. They feel like splinters of ice cutting me. I am instantly awake. And cognisant that I am no longer tied up, I was lying down on something hard, which has currently pooled up with freeze water. I sit up and now there is the faintest of lambency in the room… like the 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 freeze water that still stings like weirdo. My sleeve are pulled up behind me and what feels like a eyelet of rope slips 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 hired hand guiltily between my ramification."how-do-you-do"

"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-change version or the recollective one ?"

"The forgetful version"

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

"Ahemm… Inappropriate !"

"I believe my cunt disagrees"

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

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

"Byeeee… see ya soon."

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