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

You get done with your shopping trips and breakfast duties with your folks and finally receive some you sentence. And of line, you have month end work to count into.

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

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

I wake up on something soft ... grit ... lenient, pristine Baroness Dudevant filters through my fingers. It is weirdly moody, 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 eve 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 feeling. A beach. I am on a beach. Does n't look like Kuwait ... the backbone 's too clean, like Champagne-Ardenne coloured sugar.

I stand up and dot myself ... A cool breeze blows, being naughty with the hem of my dress. I look around, it is crepuscle after all.. the sun 's going down. No foretoken of anyone. No signal of you. If this is a dream which I now honestly believe it is, where the perdition are you ? The beach seems isolated, just the murmur of the sea ... an occasional gull squawking. Inland, there seems to be nothing much… no mansion of human life history at least, darkening trees, not tropic. No tell-tale pin points of light, no music nothing.

It is beautiful, serene and a little scary. I am expectant of my pipe dream to turn the usual route… some monster, some beast to show up… maybe a beast or a radical of savage men… I look all dressed for a chase !

I walk along the beach, trying to keep up an equalize distance to the shoreline and the treeline. I do not want to stay out in the open when Night falls and I do not need to thread into the trees ( they look menacing ). Maybe I will find some rock-and-roll, a cove, a cave… don't recognize how that will be any to a lesser extent scary… but maybe I will find one with luminance, big fluorescent Inner Light that channel the cave walls and top me to a room with a nice bed and maybe you. Hey, it is a dream, I should be able to wish for it and nominate it appear. Isn't that how dreams work ? Apparently not, as I seem to hold been walking quite a while now with no polarity of anything, not even ogre. I am exhausted now. Maybe it is time to heat up, for real number.

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 vault of heaven for the moon. The undulation are agitated now. I look back along the way I've walked, the sea is often calmer there. It could be a dream anomaly or I am nearing some rocky role of the beach. I might actually find oneself the cave. The beach also seems to be constrict, the treeline steadily gaining on me, the sea pushing me towards the tree. Adjusting my centre to only natural luminance tone strange, I can barely make out the rocks poking through the sand. The lunar month is just risen and it throws odd trace but I am now almost on what seems to be a rock bed, on an incline. The treeline is too close for ease and seems to be rushing towards me as I climb the incline. Suddenly, the Sir Herbert Beerbohm Tree are replaced by a rock music bulwark, it seemed to have just appeared. Exhausted mind playing tricks. I decide to walk along the bulwark, something to lean against in my ambition that is now turning into a nightmare, almost. I am barely paying tending to anything except the feel of the rock paries and don't even agnise when the murmur of the sea recedes and when the swarthiness gets inky.

My deal hits something and it clangs. A metallic clang. A manmade sound. I grope around the bulwark and palpate the origin of the noise… a chain. It feels like a range. Wait… is that a shackle. Finding the handlock of the hamper coincides with my recognition that I am now in some variety of chamber or undermine or passage and that what little I can see is by some miracle of the pipe dream. Almost nightmare to full blown nightmare, I guess. I grope my way around the walls, fingers touching Sir Thomas More metal chemical chain ( or bond ). Something acutely pricks my digit, tracing down they feel like a row of stiletto heel, naah… a matrix of spikes. My mind endeavor to play the room in light… and it is not a overnice sight… it is forming a nice torture chamber in my drumhead. I stumble on something wooden, a plank… I try to strike it, but it seems fixed. I have a feeling that the walls are ever so slightly turning my direction of apparent motion and that I might actually be in a circular sleeping room. The feeling is reinforced when I trip again on a wooden plank after stumbling around a while. It is either a really prospicient torment chamber or a attack elbow room ! I gingerly try to place 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 iniquity, releases the pent up enervation in me. I slip into an almost unconscious sleep.

I wake up again, sore, from the pass, from the inexorable wooden bench…and still in my pipe dream ! It is still blue. I try to hold up my hand in front of my face to check the extent of visibleness. metal clangs. Oh good ! I am in shackles. This is not an advance. Besides, I am feeling cold… and the cold is creeping into my ‘ secret'places… Jeez ! I am naked, spread-eagled and shackled… and as good as blind-folded. What now ?

Strangely, my body is tingling… not sure if it is fearfulness or anticipation. In my heading, horrific persona of creepy crawlies attacking is interspersed with those of many work force touching, groping, caressing my naked body. Something rake my left tit. I gasp. What feels like many butterfly feet trace down my belly, and back up to my knocker. I know my feet are tied apart, but on instinct I try to clinch my articulatio genus and I realise that my knees are tied apart. I am all-embracing heart-to-heart to whoever ( or whatever ) is in there with me.

I close my eyes ( though it doesn't affair if they are open… it's just too dingy ) 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'block twisting my pap, the bang of blood back to them makes me gasp and before I can do my sentience, a barrage fire of sting land on me down there. I think I just got kitty-cat whipped ! That Robert 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'make no auditory sensation at all.

The cat-o-nine bottom ( it has to be that ) lands on my justly 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 hurt a bit, a finger or finger's breadth caress my pussy lips… parting them, probing the debut softly… causing my breath to tighten and every other muscle to undo. The frequence of blows and caresses increase, some are coincident that I am no longer certain if there is just one teaser in there with me.

I can feel my body burn and sting to the level of numbness. I can see weal crisscrossing my boob and thighs. My face is wet with rent and my kitty is wet and dripping.

Whatever program I am shackled to is tipped up, vertically… causing my bum to slue glower. The ikon I would present with the position I am in… sheesh ! I am beaming for the inky black of the room. I feel blazonry under my thighs… thank good they feel like arms… I had almost lost Bob Hope of the tormentor ( s ) being human, let alone you. I think I know what is coming ... something voiceless, yet soft… parts my pussycat brim and it is definitely not a finger. I half rustling, half cry asking ‘ you'to be gentle. finger's breadth wrap around my throat… stopping my pleading immediately… reducing me to gasping for air while ‘ your'hammer slams into me. zip docile about that. ‘ You'piston in and out. I am fighting to breathe. I feel like I am being pluck 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 mouth ... the unity on my face… and I taste ‘ you'for the low clock time. Yes… it is you. No one else ( even with my lack of comparables ) taste and smells that combination… tobacco and midnight teakwood. Everything about this fucking is fucking aggressive… nothing gentle about the kiss… my backtalk are bruised, I am aching and hurting all over but with the knowledge that I am safe in your arms 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 sozzled inside me… of course it is just in my head. beingness tied up like that all my squeeze is mental.

I am on the sceptre of what I know will be a shamefully, shatteringly amazing orgasm when I hear the offset Word of God since I woke up… A gruff, throaty whisper… brawny in maliciousness of the low volume,"You will not dare cum before I let you."I want to hold back… I can't. I am worried about the consequences… my limb are aching hung the way I am. Every inch of me is sore… and I want to stand on my ft. Yet… when you flood me with your cum, I can not check myself… I try to hide out my orgasm in the shudders of your body. But I know that you know. Even as my body reels from the waves of jounce coursing through me, a slap land on my rectify cheek… stunning me but not stopping the wafture washing over me. And the only gentle act, a osculation on the smarting cheek is underlined with an raging"You will pay for that !"

Despite the pain and the awkward wall hanging posture, I am so wear upon from being so thoroughly fucked that I can barely preserve my heart open. I must have dozed off, because what wakes me is being doused with icy stale urine. 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 hard, which has currently pooled up with freeze out urine. I sit up and now there is the faint-hearted 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… fount down, my belly and breasts touching the freezing weewee that still stings like crazy. My limb are pulled up behind me and what tone like a eyelet of circle slip on to my wrists. All I can say is"Oh No !, Please no"and all I get back from you is"meter for your penalisation"…

Then the earphone rings… I wake up dazed, naked under my blanket… my helping hand guiltily between my legs."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 version or the long one ?"

"The short reading"

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

"Ahemm… Inappropriate !"

"I believe my pussy disagrees"

"Besharam… I think I will extend 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'.