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

You get done with your shopping tripper and breakfast tariff with your folks and finally have some you clip. And of course, you have month end work to look into.

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

Well, since I do not have anything else to do, I am spare 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 cushy ... Amandine Aurore Lucie Dupin ... mild, pristine sand filters through my fingers. It is weirdly dark, with stage of light peeking through. I realise that I have a stalk hat covering my expression. I take the hat off and sit up ... the eventide sun is softly glowing above the horizon ( or is it dawn ? ). I remember sleeping naked, but I am now wearing a summer clothes ... navy ... flowy, sexily silky to the pinch. A beach. I am on a beach. Does n't seem like Kuwait City ... the Amandine Aurore Lucie Dupin 's too clean, like champagne coloured sugar.

I stand up and dust myself ... A cool breeze blows, being naughty with the hem of my wearing apparel. I look around, it is dusk after all.. the sun 's going down. No mark of anyone. No augury of you. If this is a dream which I now honestly believe it is, where the underworld are you ? The beach seems isolated, just the murmur of the sea ... an occasional mug squawking. Inland, there seems to be nil much… no sign of human sprightliness at least, darkening tree, not tropical. No tell-tale pin points of light, no medicine nothing.

It is beautiful, serene and a trivial scary. I am heavy of my ambition to change by reversal the common route… some monster, some beast to show up… maybe a savage or a radical of brute men… I look all dressed for a chase !

I walk along the beach, trying to uphold an touch space to the shoreline and the treeline. I do not want to stay out in the spread when night falls and I do not want to wander into the tree diagram ( they look menacing ). Maybe I will find some Rock, a cove, a cave… don't know how that will be any less scary… but maybe I will notice one with lights, big fluorescent lights that line the cave walls and pass me to a room with a skillful bed and maybe you. Hey, it is a dream, I should be able to like for it and take in it appear. Isn't that how dreams work ? Apparently not, as I seem to possess been walking quite a patch now with no sign of anything, not even monsters. I am exhausted now. Maybe it is time to wake up, for real.

I guess that's not an pick here. I am still walking on the beach, it is now dark and the sea is sparkling silver with the moonlight… thank paradise 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 dreaming unusual person 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 born light feels strange, I can barely realise out the rock poking through the Amandine Aurore Lucie Dupin. The moon is just risen and it throws odd phantasma but I am now almost on what seems to be a rock bed, on an ramp. The treeline is too near for comfort and seems to be rushing towards me as I climb the incline. Suddenly, the Tree are replaced by a rock rampart, it seemed to bear 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 nightmare, almost. I am barely paying attention to anything except the flavour of the rock rampart and don't even realise when the heart murmur of the sea recedes and when the dark gets inky.

My hand smasher something and it clangs. A metallic clank. A manmade phone. I grope around the wall and sense the source of the noise… a chemical chain. It feels like a chain. Wait… is that a shackle. Finding the cuff of the bond coincides with my actualisation that I am now in some kind of sleeping accommodation or undermine or passage and that what lilliputian I can see is by some miracle of the dream. Almost nightmare to full blown incubus, I guess. I grope my way around the bulwark, fingers touching Thomas More metal irons ( or shackle ). Something sharp peter my finger, tracing down they feel like a row of spikes, naah… a ground substance of spindle. My head try to recreate the room in light… and it is not a nice sight… it is forming a gracious torture chamber in my head. I stumble on something wooden, a plank… I try to move it, but it seems fixed. I have a flavour that the bulwark are ever so slightly turning my counseling of movement and that I might actually be in a flyer chamber. The feeling is reinforced when I tripper again on a wooden plank after stumbling around a spell. It is either a really long overrefinement sleeping accommodation or a rung 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 guiltless terrace in the dark, releases the pent up exhaustion in me. I slip into an almost unconscious sleep.

I wake up again, sore, from the walk, from the unforgiving wooden bench…and still in my dreaming ! It is still sorry. I try to hold up my paw in front of my face to check the extent of visibility. Metal clangs. Oh goodness ! I am in shackle. This is not an improvement. Besides, I am feeling cold… and the cold is creeping into my ‘ mystery'places… Jeez ! I am naked, spread-eagled and shackled… and as good as blind-folded. What now ?

Strangely, my physical structure is tingling… not sure if it is fear or anticipation. In my school principal, horrific images of creepy crawlies attacking is interspersed with those of many hands touching, groping, caressing my naked torso. Something crease my left tit. I gasp. What feels like many butterfly feet trace down my belly, and back up to my chest. I know my fundament are tied apart, but on instinct I try to clinch my articulatio genus and I realise that my knee joint are tied apart. I am panoptic open to whoever ( or whatever ) is in there with me.

I close my heart ( 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 whine that comes out. The ‘ fingers'halt twisting my mammilla, the boot of line of descent back to them makes me heave and before I can coiffe my smoke, a barrage of sting 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'make no phone at all.

The cat-o-nine hind end ( it has to be that ) lands on my aright white meat. And even though I know that I could be whipped anytime, not knowing where and what interval is unnerving. As if to still the hurt a bit, a digit or finger caress my pussy lips… parting them, probing the ledger entry softly… causing my intimation to tighten and every early muscle to loosen. The frequencies of setback and caresses increase, some are coinciding that I am no longer certainly if there is just one tormentor in there with me.

I can feel my body burn and sting to the percentage point of numbness. I can visualize welts crisscrossing my chest and thigh. My typeface is wet with bout and my pussy is wet and dripping.

Whatever platform I am shackled to is tipped up, vertically… causing my bum to slip downhearted. The picture I would deliver with the status I am in… sheesh ! I am gladiola for the ink-black pitch blackness of the way. I feel arm under my thighs… thank goodness they feel like arms… I had almost lost hope of the persecutor ( s ) being homo, let alone you. I think I know what is coming ... something severe, yet soft… contribution my pussy lips and it is definitely not a finger's breadth. I one-half whisper, one-half cry asking ‘ you'to be gentle. Fingers wrap around my throat… stopping my pleading immediately… reducing me to gasping for air while ‘ your'cock slams into me. nada gentle about that. ‘ You'piston in and out. I am fighting to breathe. I feel like I am being lacerate apart down under. Damn ! I wanted to be fucked… but this is painful… and yet it feels good… tactile property damn good. A tongue parts my lips ... the ones on my face… and I taste ‘ you'for the first time. Yes… it is you. No one else ( even with my deficiency of comparables ) appreciation and olfactory property that combination… tobacco and midnight teakwood. Everything about this screwing is fucking aggressive… nothing gentle about the kiss… my lips are bruised, I am aching and hurting all over but with the knowledge that I am safe in your coat of arms I want more.

I feel the sinew inside me tightening… both yours and mine. I squeeze as punishing as I can, trying to take hold you close inside me… of grade it is just in my head. Being 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 news since I woke up… A gruff, throaty whisper… powerful in spite of the low volume,"You will not dare cum before I let you."I want to book back… I can't. I am worried 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 animal foot. 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 body Virginia reel from the waves of shock coursing through me, a slapdash commonwealth on my right-hand cheek… stunning me but not stopping the Wave washing over me. And the only gentle act, a buss on the smarting cheek is underlined with an angry"You will pay for that !"

Despite the pain sensation and the awkward dangling posture, I am so tired from being so thoroughly fucked that I can barely keep my eyes open. I must have dozed off, because what wakes me is being doused with icy cold water. They feel like sliver 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 freezing water. I sit up and now there is the faint-hearted of glows in the room… like the room is lit up by a 1 firefly.

You push me down on to the bed/bench/whatever… side down, my belly and breasts touching the freezing piss that still stings like crazy. My blazonry are pulled up behind me and what tactile property like a loop of rope trip 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 phone 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 ticket, I guess ?"

"Er… why ?"

"I na… I had this dream…"

"There you go !"

"Arre… you want the shortsighted translation or the foresighted one ?"

"The short edition"

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

"Ahemm… Inappropriate !"

"I believe my pussy 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 handcuffs ?"

"Byeeee… see ya soon."

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