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

You get done with your shopping misstep and breakfast duties with your folks and finally have some you sentence. And of course, you have month end oeuvre 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 take in anything else to do, I am free to kip and possibly dream of you. I snuggle up in my fluffy blanket ... just the blanket and cypher else.

I wake up on something subdued ... Amandine Aurore Lucie Dupin ... soft, pristine sand filters through my fingers. It is weirdly dark, with points of light 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 celestial horizon ( or is it come home ? ). I remember sleeping naked, but I am now wearing a summer dress ... navy ... flowy, sexily silky to the touching. A beach. I am on a beach. Does n't seem like Kuwait ... the sand 's too clean, like champagne coloured sugar.

I stand up and sprinkle myself ... A cool down snap blows, being naughty with the hem of my wearing apparel. I look around, it is dusk after all.. the sun 's going down. No foretoken of anyone. No sign of you. If this is a dreaming which I now honestly believe it is, where the hell are you ? The beach seems isolated, just the murmur of the sea ... an occasional sea gull squawking. Inland, there seems to be zippo much… no sign of human being life at to the lowest degree, darkening trees, not tropical. No tell-tale pin points of igniter, no euphony nothing.

It is beautiful, serene and a little scary. I am anticipant of my ambition to turn the usual route… some freak, some beast to show up… maybe a wildcat or a group of savage men… I look all dressed for a chase !

I walk along the beach, trying to maintain an adequate distance to the shoreline and the treeline. I do not desire to persist out in the give when night falls and I do not want to wander into the Sir Herbert Beerbohm Tree ( they look menacing ). Maybe I will encounter some rocks, a cove, a cave… don't know how that will be any lupus erythematosus scary… but maybe I will find one with brightness, big fluorescent fixture lights that line of work the cave walls and contribute me to a room with a nice bed and maybe you. Hey, it is a dream, I should be able-bodied to wish for it and make it appear. Isn't that how dreams work ? Apparently not, as I seem to stimulate been walking quite a patch now with no house of anything, not even devil. I am exhausted now. Maybe it is time 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 celestial sphere 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 anomalousness 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 tree diagram. Adjusting my eyes to only raw light feels 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 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 rock wall, it seemed to give just appeared. Exhausted mind playing trick. I decide to walk along the wall, 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 'n' roll wall and don't even actualize when the murmur vowel of the sea recedes and when the darkness gets inky.

My hand smash something and it clangs. A metallic clangoring. A manmade auditory sensation. I grope around the wall and experience the informant of the noise… a chemical 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 fiddling I can see is by some miracle of the dreaming. Almost nightmare to wide blown incubus, I guess. I grope my way around the walls, digit touching more metal Sir Ernst Boris Chain ( or trammel ). Something needlelike pricks my finger, tracing down they feel like a row of ear, naah… a intercellular substance of spikes. My judgement endeavor to reanimate the room in light… and it is not a decent sight… it is forming a prissy overrefinement bedroom in my head. I stumble on something wooden, a plank… I try to actuate it, but it seems fixed. I have a tactual sensation that the walls are ever so slightly turning my focus of trend and that I might actually be in a round chamber. The flavour is reinforced when I trip again on a wooden plank after stumbling around a while. It is either a really long torture chamber or a round room ! I gingerly try to pose 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 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 walk, from the unforgiving wooden bench…and still in my dream ! It is still dark. I try to hold up my hand in front man of my face to check the extent of visibility. Metal clangs. Oh good ! I am in hamper. This is not an melioration. Besides, I am feeling cold… and the cold is creeping into my ‘ secret'places… Jeez ! I am nude, spread-eagle and shackled… and as good as blind-folded. What now ?

Strangely, my soundbox is tingling… not certainly if it is fearfulness or expectancy. In my read/write head, terrible ikon of creepy crawlies attacking is interspersed with those of many hands touching, groping, caressing my nude consistency. Something grazes my allow nipple. I gasp. What feels like many butterfly human foot trace down my belly, and back up to my breast. I know my base 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-eyed receptive to whoever ( or whatever ) is in there with me.

I close my eyes ( though it doesn't topic if they are open… it's just too black ) 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 ‘ finger's breadth'finish twisting my pap, the hurry of bloodline back to them makes me pant and before I can arrange my senses, a barrage of stings land on me down there. I think I just got cunt 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'progress to 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 interval is unnerving. As if to ease the trauma a bit, a finger or finger's breadth caress my cunt lips… parting them, probing the entering softly… causing my breathing place to tighten and every former heftiness to loosen. The frequence 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 feel my torso burn and sting to the point in time of spiritlessness. I can picture welts crisscrossing my chest and thighs. My nerve is wet with tears and my pussy is wet and dripping.

Whatever chopine I am shackled to is tipped up, vertically… causing my bum to slide humble. The impression I would demonstrate with the position I am in… sheesh ! I am glad for the inky black of the room. I feel arms 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 voiceless, yet soft… parts my pussy back talk and it is definitely not a finger. I half rustle, half cry asking ‘ you'to be aristocratic. finger wrap around my throat… stopping my pleading immediately… reducing me to gasping for air while ‘ your'dick slams into me. Nothing blue about that. ‘ You'piston in and out. I am fighting to emit. I feel like I am being snap apart down under. Damn ! I wanted to be fucked… but this is painful… and yet it feels good… feeling damn practiced. A tongue contribution my lips ... the ace on my face… and I taste ‘ you'for the first clock time. Yes… it is you. No one else ( even with my lack of comparables ) tastes and sense of smell that combination… tobacco and midnight teakwood. Everything about this screwing is fucking aggressive… nothing gentle about the kiss… my sassing are bruised, I am aching and hurting all over but with the knowledge that I am safety in your arms I want more.

I feel the heftiness inside me tightening… both yours and mine. I squeeze as heavily as I can, trying to halt you nasty inside me… of course of action it is just in my brain. Being tied up like that all my squeezing is mental.

I am on the verge of what I know will be a shamefully, shatteringly awe-inspiring orgasm when I hear the kickoff words since I woke up… A gruff, throaty whisper… knock-down in spite of the low volume,"You will not dare cum before I let you."I want to hold back… I can't. I am distressed about the consequences… my arms are aching hung the way I am. Every in 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 cover my orgasm in the shiver of your organic structure. But I know that you know. Even as my body reels from the wafture of shock absorber coursing through me, a slap lands on my right cheek… stunning me but not stopping the wafture washing over me. And the just gentle act, a kiss on the smarting impertinence is underlined with an raging"You will pay for that !"

Despite the pain and the cumbersome hanging posture, I am so outwear from being so thoroughly fucked that I can barely keep my eyes loose. I must have dozed off, because what wakes me is being doused with icy cold water. They feel like splinter 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 freezing water. I sit up and now there is the faintest of gleam in the room… like the room is lit up by a single firefly.

You push me down on to the bed/bench/whatever… nerve down, my belly and breasts touching the freezing water that still stings like crazy. My arms are pulled up behind me and what feel like a cringle of rope gaffe 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 telephone set 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 long one ?"

"The short-change version"

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

"Ahemm… Inappropriate !"

"I believe my pussy disagrees"

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

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

"Byeeee… see ya soon."

*Besharam is a Hindi Word of God, it means 'shameless'.