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The Man of My Dreams

"A submissive follows her Master's instructions to the letter."

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This is not my cock; but the cock’s owner loves it when I kiss it, when I suck it, when I make it spurt. I love it too: his spunk. I love the taste of it in my mouth; the feel of it in my throat and the warmth that it gives me in my belly when he leaves, as I know he has to. This is not his bed; this is my bed and my bed alone. He had to share his bed with her.

He also loves the taste of me; my mouth, my nipples, my sopping-wet holes. He loves me. I know that by the way he pleases me, the way he sucks at my flesh: the hunger, the passion. He wants me; and my body wants him. It aches for him.

I rub my clit, my sensitive little bud, morning noon and night. Every single day. Because he has told me that I must. I must come for him, even when he is not there. But it barely takes the edge off my need. Only he can satisfy me. Only he understands me. Only he can truly please me. As I please him.

Will he come tonight? The nights when he joins me are the best. They are what I live for. I shiver. Not because of the cold, although I am cold, since he does not allow me to wear clothes in my bed. I shiver with excitement. Will he escape? Will he sneak into my room?

Sometimes I pretend to be asleep when he slips in. But I’m not. It’s hard not to touch myself as he stands over me, looking at my naked body. But not as hard as his cock when he pulls it out of his trousers; not as hard as the way he strokes himself; not as hard as the hot rain of his spunk splashing against my skin. Sometimes he does it on my ass; sometimes on my tits but usually, he does it on my face. Almost always on my face.

That is our secret.

My secret is what I do when he slips away into the night. I reach under my pillow to where my phone is hidden and I take a picture of his spunk as it sits on my body. I want to see me how he sees me. I have dozens of photos – mostly of my spunk-covered, smiling face. I smile a lot when I’m wearing his spunk. His seed makes me happy in a way which I cannot explain. I love that he gives it to me. I love that he allows me to take it from him. I love watching it fly from his body. Even when I’m supposed to be sleeping, I still watch. Secretly. Even when I’m awake and it goes in my eyes, I still watch through the milky window into the world.

There was only one time when I didn’t see his face when he came: the first time that he fucked me.

There was a glass of water standing on an envelope on my nightstand. In the envelope was a hand-written note. That in itself was dangerous. Evidence of our games; of our love for each other. What if it had been found by another? My excited heart thumped wildly as I read the words. His words for me. His carefully chosen poetry feeding me. He made me squirm, and shudder; made me simultaneously hot and cold. He put me in submissive heaven; a euphoria that had my body on the edge of Nirvana. I desperately wanted to touch myself; to slide my fingers over my hungry clit and into my pussy. But the first line of the note forbade that very thing.

I read the wonderful words again; the hand-written orders. They made me shake with excitement.

You may not touch yourself in any way which would provide sexual relief.

Take-off all your clothes and place them neatly on your chair.

Open the second envelope.

An envelope within an envelope. Russian Dolls of instructions.

Inside the second envelope was a folded piece of paper. On the cover it read, “Get into bed and lie down. You are not allowed to leave the bed.” I did as I was told. The bed felt odd; somehow stiffer than my body remembered. I wriggled to get comfortable, pushed my shoulders into the familiar softness of the pillows, and continued to read. The next words were hidden under a flap. Under the flap, it said simply, “Open Me.

Written inside were only three words. But they were powerful, some of the most powerfully shocking words I’d ever read. I desperately, desperately wanted to play with myself; I knew that I’d be able to come so hard if I did. My body felt like it might explode either way – from my need if I didn’t touch, or from satisfaction if I did.

The three words were an instruction. Those three words were: “Empty… your… bladder.”

He was making me wet my own bed. That explained why he’d continually topped-up my drink. He knew that my bladder would be nearly full by the time I read these words. Biologically, I didn’t need to pee at that instant but he was my Master – I had to pee. With a thrill of dirty delight, I slipped my fingers around my phone and brought it up above my crotch, imagining that it was him watching. And then I did as I was told. Concentration first, then a hiss as hot warmth squirted down my thighs. Liquid pooled then soaked away into the sheets and beyond.

I was thrilled by what I’d done; I was disgusted by what I’d done. The horrified excitement was extreme: I’d followed the instructions of my Dominant. By doing so, I’d pleased him. I loved to please him; lived to please him, yet I’d just disgraced myself. I was ashamed; I was aroused beyond measure.

As I lay in the filth of my making, I took a moment to let myself settle, to try and commit the feelings of the moment to memory and then I watched the footage I’d taken of pissing in my bed. My phone had captured every single detail. Only then did I lift the flap and continue to read.

Open your top drawer and take-out the envelope.

There was more!

I rolled over eagerly, covering more of my body in my own cooling effluent. This was damn sexy. There it was: another bulging envelope. I turned it in my fingers, feeling a cylinder within. Open me.

There was another letter. Tonight I will use your body for my pleasure. I will fuck you. My breath caught as my excitement flared. He was going to fuck me? Take the lipstick and write ‘I am your slut’ on your belly and thighs. My belly and thighs were slick with piss which made it hard to write and my hands were shaking so much that the writing was barely legible. But I did it.

I'll see you in your dreams.

I lay back on the pillows, unsure what to think, what to do. Then I started laughing. I got it. It was perfect. He was the man of my dreams: I’d told him that; those had been my exact words.

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Now he wanted to share those dreams, perhaps make those dreams.

Surely, I was too excited to sleep, to dream. But I didn't need to sleep or dream for my Dom to fuck me tonight. I lay back and waited, waited for him to come in. I'd pretend to be sleeping. I was good at pretending, we both knew that.

It was hard not to touch myself in that first hour, especially after I’d emptied my bladder for a second time. I couldn’t be bothered to film it; instead, I just enjoyed the warmth as the liquid trickled down between my legs. It was so relaxing, so decadent to not bother getting up to go to the loo.

Sexy dreams filled my mind. If I’m dreaming… that means I’m asleep.

I snapped awake suddenly and immediately felt the echoes of penetration. I knew that it had happened. It was still dark but I knew that my Dom had been into my room and fucked me; used me for his pleasure. I felt more alive than I’d ever felt. My pussy was glowing as I touched it. It was slippery, enough to make me wonder… I flicked on the light. There on my nightstand was another note. Play me. It had been stuck to the remote control of my DVD player. I saw the thumb drive hanging from the open front. He'd filmed it?

It took an eternity for the TV to warm-up. I was ferociously excited. Play.

There I was. Or at least, there was my body sprawled over my bed. The main light was on in my room and I could see every detail of my prone body. I looked so peaceful.

Then my Dom walked into the shot. It took me a moment to realize the significance. He wasn’t alone – someone was carrying the camera.

“Are you really going to do it?” A woman’s voice.

“Of course I’m going to do it.” My heart throbbed at the deep masculine tones of my Dom. I nearly came. “Get her ready.” The camera fumbled and then a woman appeared in the frame. My fingers stopped. She was naked, young and beautiful. And she was there in my bedroom. Her hands moved to my upturned bum, then down between my legs and onto the bed.

"Are you sure she's awake?" she whispered. "She seems very peaceful."

"It's a game we play. She's good at pretending." I saw the shrug of acceptance.

“I think she’s had an accident,” she said, turning to the camera.

“It wasn’t an accident.” My Dom’s words slapped at the girl with surprising force.

“You made her do this?” The woman's voice was impressed.

“Yes. As I’m going to make you lick her.” There was a flutter of doubt on that pretty face. The features compressed minutely into a frown. But the resistance was only momentary. Her face dropped, her tongue extended and ran along my hip. “Not there. You know where you have to lick.” The girl moved over my bum and her chin disappeared into the cleft between my cheeks. Phantom sensations reported from my bumhole. My body sang with forgotten memories even before a hairy hand extended into view on the screen and eased my buttocks apart to expose the tip of the girl’s tongue digging enthusiastically into my bottom hole. Fuck!

I clicked FF on the remote and watched as her face remained locked in the crack of my arse for five, then ten minutes. I felt guilty that I couldn’t watch the girl working but… it was a girl licking my arse! Watching a beautiful, naked stranger doing that would be too much and I wanted to see what happened next.

There was a change of scene. I skipped back. My Dom’s cock was visible from an angle I’d never seen before – from the point of view of its owner. My owner. In the rear of the frame, I saw the girl squirting clear lubricant over the split-peach of my pussy. Then her fingers disappeared. They were inside me. I made a note of the time-stamp: I wanted my orgasm to be to that. I felt different somehow knowing that I’d been fingered by another girl. But those fingers were quickly replaced by my Dom’s cock.

The girl guided it home before taking over the camera duties. I carefully frigged my clit as I watched myself get fucked. It was beyond the dirtiest thing I had ever imagined. I edged a few times, taking myself right to the point of orgasm before slipping back. I wanted that orgasm so badly, but I needed to see the film, needed to see what had happened to me.

I clicked FF again. My Dom’s cock became a blur, yet I remained utterly unmoved, the only motion was the occasional ripple as my Dom pushed up against me. Then it was over. What had happened? Rewind. Play. The shafting increased to a frenzied peak and then stopped with my Dom’s cock buried inside me. I heard the familiar grunting of my Dom’s orgasm. Oh Jesus! My body erupted. I kept my eyes open and glued to the screen as a pit of pleasure yawned open underneath me and dragged me down; it crushed me from within; I was floating, flying, falling.

I was still dizzy with the sensations coursing through me as my Dom’s cock, still fully erect, withdrew. A splodge of white followed it out. Pause. The image of my Dom’s cum leaking out of me was frozen. I rubbed. Frantic, hard; trapping my clitoris almost painfully against my pubic bone. Almost painful, but not quite.

My eyes were on the pretty pinks of my vulva; moving to the black circular opening of my vagina and the white secretion oozing from it. It was what I’d wanted and there it was. Unable to resist, I held my breath for what seemed like an eternity. I shifted my body to spread my legs even wider, adjusting my focus between the static image of my dripping pussy and the pure, unadulterated live reflection as I masturbated. My arm ached: pain combined with pleasure as I fought to a second climax. It had even greater intensity than the first, sending-out an unrelenting hot flush of ecstatic release. Inner muscles worked, liberating sexual energies to keep the fires burning fiercely.

My senses unraveled, control fragmented. I quivered at the thought of my Dom having been inside me; embedded so deeply. I groaned happily as I realized that his sperm was still in there – in my vagina; in my womb.

I had no memory of my Dom fucking me, yet I knew I would never forget it. I stopped the clip, switched-off the TV and my sidelight and allowed my head to thump into the pillow. The darkness was total, even with my eyes open. My hands gathered on my lower belly, imagining what was inside. I knew that even if he never fucked me again, this would be enough.

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Written by AbigailThornton
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