Nightmares are also dreams-Part 41

Bruised, bloodied, and satiated, we settled into our soft but firm bed. For the first time, I’d allowed myself to be goaded by my wife into losing control. To experience the almost fugue state of the total abandonment of control and just did whatever I desired without construct, form, or limits.

I can remember it all but it’s at a remove. Except for brief instances where I felt myself tipping into monstrosity. Knife poised to cut off her nipple as I rode her. The fear in her eyes flooding me with desire and making me painfully hard. I know I stopped after pressing the dull side of the blade in, as if to beginning sawing. I can see the relief flood her body and I remember slapping her tit so hard it left a red hand shaped print against her bone white skin.

I remember the feel of holding onto the dangling ceiling spreader bar while Seth impaled me on his throbbing cock. Filling me up with the war of pain and pleasure. Legs hugging him to push deeper into me. Kissing his mouth like I was searching for a way to feel more. Biting his lip and tasting blood and that flash of regret that I had sent the others away. Wanting more inside me. Seeing Sara approach wearing a small strapon. Her reading that burning desire to lose myself. The thrusting pulse of a slick and thrumming dildo, joining Seth. The feeling of hot wet splashing inside me. The vibration too much for him to endure. The brief moment of respite before some monstrous cock, easily triple what I’d just taken started thrusting in. Turning, I see one of the men I’d dismissed, Jake, and the triumphant smirk of Sara. Jake opened me up. His cock slamming into me while he held me up from behind.
My last coherent memory is Seth sucking my cock slowly into his mouth. Like my dick was water and he was savoring every touch of it.

I remember whipping Sara with her favorite single tail. Each lash showing an angry red line across her ghostly skin. Pulling her off the Saint Andrews cross and giving her to Seth and Jake. I watched her body racked in pain be whipsawed into pleasure at the hands of those men. Her eyes staring into me, mouth open. Deep into subspace. They took her. She laying sideways on the padded bar. Front and back, thrusting her between them. I recall pushing my cock into her open mouth. The feel of her mouth sealing around me and the slow sucking as she pulled one last hard cum from my aching over used cock. Tensing each time she spasmed in orgasm. One hand holding her head in place and the other cupping her bruised breast. Pushing and kneading on the bruises.

I know we took a shower but can’t remember it. I pull Sara’s battered body closer to me. These recollections making me hard. But I’m too tired to do anything. Nevertheless, I push into the pleasant familiar warm of her pussy. Just leaving myself inside of her. With Tara pressing herself against me. Tits pushing into my back. Awkwardly, I reach back and cup her mons in my hand. She murmurs in a half asleep haze, “Thank you, Master.”

Some tension in me breaks at her words, and I drop deep into sleep. The most content person on the face of the Earth.

Nightmares are also dreams Part 39-Sara

“I just thought of a third option,” Pel says, his eyes
swimming in darkness.

I see in Pel a deep hurt. Like a stab wound so sharp you don’t realize its killing you until its too late.

I’m his. His slave. His. And yet, always he stops. Always, just short of his full desires. And I know that I will always want to go deeper than he is comfortable with. He’ll pass it off as protection. As if this scenario isn’t something we have worked out and so is off the table. I suspect he’s been watching the footage they took off the Circle. And that there is a dark part of him that desires what they did. And really, everything they do is within scope. It’s the human trafficking, nonconsent, and the permanent breaking of the people that is at issue. Not the activities, not really. But he sees them as monsters. And since he desires what they do, he seems himself as monstrous. And he is anything but that.

My only limit I have for him is that he is comfortable with what we do. So, I’ll let this slide for tonight. But…I would have taken those three men. Would have put on a show and begged and pleaded. Would have thrown myself completely into it. It’s something I fantasize about. Something I know Pel thinks about. Something we both wanted. But here we are. Back in safety with only one other partner and one which is mostly for Pel. It’s incredibly frustrating and completely Pel. For every four steps deeper we go, there is always this moment where he walks us three steps back. He’s so deep in his own head that he fakes himself out. That deep thinking also leads to some epic sessions and surprises. Like the raven scar he created for our anniversary. Like vetting Tara and surprising me with her inclusion at work.

After this, we’ll need to have a talk. Not about what he can do, but about how disappointed I was that he chose just one. Plant the idea that it will be acceptable for more. And reinforce the idea that he can’t break me. That I’m already his. Body, mind, and soul. And we’ll dance forward again, and we’ll get closer to the edge that I know he wants.

I hip sway over to Pel and reach out. At the last minute, I grab our new friend and push Pel away. I growl, “Me first.” Then shove my hand down the mans pants and grab his cock.

I know I need to push Pel to get what I need tonight. All so that when I am hurting with the delicious ache of his righteous wrath, and he is beginning to feel guilty, I can act contritely. And he will know that he did right. And maybe that he could have pushed much further.

Nightmares are also dreams Part 38

“Sir, Please pick for me.” She says.

And I, who was so carried away by the fantasy of watching these men, pause. These men not of her choosing. She looks at me calm veneer covering fright and I know that this fantasy is too far.

That if we were to make it happen something in us might break and while we would weather the storm, we would always be altered.

I’ve been watching the desecration of the videos that we have gathered from the Circle. Identifying peripheral members if our community, but at the same time…
Those images were seeping into me. And I allowed them to progress this far. It awakened in me a fantasy to watch my wife be taken by these men. Not as a cuckold but at my direction, at my behest.

And I see her now, in her submission, filled with fear and excitement. And I know she would dive into this scene but….it is my equal responsibility to call red when things have gone too far. And that is what I’ve done. Perhaps if we had selected and courted these men this would be different. Perhaps if we were at a sex club and not our home that would change the temper. But here and now, I can’t. At the core, I must safeguard those that are mine. Even if the person I must make them safe from is myself.

I point to two if the well muscled men and dismiss them with a wave of my hand. The third is the one that I wanted for myself. The one who smiles at me shyly from behind brown bangs and soft lips.

I stride across the living room, sliding my hand across his hip. Pulling him too me, the hard length of him pressing into my thigh. I press my lips to his. Seeking entrance with my tongue into him. The first penetration of his body. The first yielding of him to my will.

I break off our kiss by turn my head, his breathe heavy and warm against my cheek. I look at my Sara, her eyes alight with lust, and say, “I just thought of a third option.”

Nightmares are also dreams Part 36

Her eyes tunnel into mine. A look of concentration and adoration pouring out coupled with a growing desperation. The soft flesh over iron meeting the eager pressure of softly parted lip. Shaft pushing into the warm and wet of an increasingly slobbery mouth. Her tongue pressed and exploring the pulsing quiver. The panic creeping in as each second passes with less air than she needs.

I pull her off my cock and allow the ragged gasps. Drool pooling on breasts and body paint runneled, ruined. Once I’m sure she can breathe, I gather a fistful of silken hair and force my way back into her mouth. Pushing myself and her until I feel the resistance at the back of her throat. She’s sucking hard and tongue is beating frantic like a hummingbird against me.

Something about using her mouth like a cock sleeve and her eagerness and obvious need for this rough treatment, makes me jump and quiver. Until, at last, holding her, cum shoots out, coating her tongue and mouth in the fruits of our desires. I pull her off and she collapses. I watch as she swallow and gasps for air.

“Sara,” I say, “clean me up.”

Sara sinks down beside our messy gasping fox and begins slowly lapping at my cock and balls. Sucking and licking every inch until all of the slobber and cum are gone.
Leaving me glistening and erect.

Sara waits patiently and Tara composes herself. Arraigning her posture to match Sara’s contemplative waiting.

Eyes forward, kneeling, buttocks resting and folded against thighs.

I reach out for Tara’s hand. She hesitates for the barest second and reaches up. Roughly grasping her hand I pull her to her feet and bend her back over the sink. Pressing my erectness into the soft flesh of her pelvis. I grasp her throat in my hand, pressing lightly against arteries, lightly cutting off oxygen.

I lean down and whisper against her ear, in a fierce growl, half mad from need and pride, “Mine.”
Ready for our shower.

Ask for me thrice and never will I part

Spin bled
Round read
Eyes turn again
Next fled
Choice bends
And back to you again
Learn blood
Sup FUD
And swirl into arms
Roll dice
Found slice
Made nice
Though pain paints its own picture
Hearts race
Lost face
Soundly laced
Choices back to her again
Quiet beat
Soundly sleep
Pain creeps
Eyes possess her all

Nightmares are also dreams Part 35(possible trigger warning)-Tara

I’ve been waiting in the bathroom for a long time. The shower pounds against the tiles in staccato bursts. The air is heavy with steam and the floor length mirror is completely obscured. This room has become its own pocket world. The world outside falls away and I am alone. I haven’t felt like this in a long time. Alone, quiet, and safe.

My mind plays back the parade of boyfriends who hurt me. Who raped me in the guise of being a good slave. Who hurt me over and over again until they left. And I went looking for a new master.

I can feel myself shaking and shivering. Sometimes, when I remember, I feel as lost and alone as when I was with them. And sometimes I feel like that’s what I want. That pain and the total loss of control. To know that the man standing over you could rip into your flesh and you would beg and scream and he would smile.

Sometimes I wish Pel would destroy me. Would leave me a bloody sobbing mess. He refuses. Says I’m not ready. Says he won’t be lumped in with my abusers. It’s only in the quiet that I can admit that I’m waiting for him to turn. To prove that this is all just one long setup, that he only builds me up to later break me.

When Sara is around or Pel is in the room, I can never see that happening. But I’ve admitted it to our therapist, in a one on one session. She says it’s normal. Normal to expect the behavior of people who have hurt us in the past, to be the same behavior that we’ll always get. But that doing so, when all evidence to the contrary is presented, is self destructive. And it’s gotten better.

I think that as awful as the morning was. As monstrous as killing and torturing one of the Circles breakers was…it was the right thing. It has separated the past from the present. Put a period to the life I lived before and showed me who I am. Strong. Capable.

I turn to the sudden cold rush of air and see Pel standing there. Nude but never naked. Sara is peaking out from behind him, mouth open, showing the reason he was delayed. The white foam of saliva and seed disappears as she swallows it all.

My eyes wander to Pels cock. The shaft erect and pulsing.

Sara’s dark voice purrs out, “I’ve saved some for you my love.”

I look between Sara and Pel. Sara, mischievous and indulgent. Pel, calm and waiting, but a dark eagerness sitting just inside his eys.

I sink to my knees, the soft bath mat cushioning. I slide my mouth down the hard length of him, tongue pushing against his pulse. My eyes cast upward, asking for permission. Pel nods.

I pull my mouth away. Hesitant. I ask, “Sir, will you please fuck my mouth.”

Pel looks a bit surprised. It’s the first time I’ve asked for brutal treatment. He pauses long enough that I’m sure I’ll be denied.

Then, his cock is pushing its way back into my mouth. Slamming against the back of my throat and I hear the tiger growl of “Yes. Mine.”

Nightmares are also dreams Part 25

Tara is padding around, fox ears on her head and fox tail sprouting from her butt plug. She is snuffling and sticking her nose into things and generally having a good time. Her small smile says that she loves the game and wants to play.

Sara is staring in unconscious horror at the elaborate off-white dress. One of those flouncy meringue wedding dresses that shops try to sell to the happy and unsuspecting. She looks at me as if I’d lost my mind. I smile back angelically. Fallen angels count, right?

“You can’t be serious,” she states. Her voice empty with shock. Ah, horrible dress therapy, why did I never think of this before?

“Do you not like it? I had it special ordered just for you. I have it on good authority that your father’s second wife wore the exact same dress.”

“His SECOND wife?! You mean the tramp he left my mother for,” her voice rising in incredulity and anger.

“It could have been his third. To be honest, I’ve lost count. I’m sure it’s in a file somewhere. Would you like me to check,” I reply calmly.

Letting out a low groan, Sara turns to me and whines, “Why are you doing this?”

I look at her for a beat. Letting the silence stretch. Then reply, “Your parents deserve to know that you are happy and married. Just like you wanted. If you are wondering why that photo will include Tara nude and being a little fox…then ask yourself this: would you ask her and me to hide who we are? Is that who you want to be be?”

She looks at me and sees the disappointment lurking, waiting for her answer.

I know that she loves us and accepts us. But to expose these kinds of things to her parents is a completely different proposition.

She knows this is a punishment. She knows that I will not harm her. But still, she’s human. And exposure of secrets is one of the hardest things we do. Especially to people whose image of us is in contrast to the truth.

She turns away, eyes cast down. Almost inaudible, I hear her say, “Ok.”

Then she whips back around to me glaring fiercely and proclaims “But I won’t be doing this in that monstrosity. I have my own clothes and I will pick something I deem appropriate.”

I smile, wryly, and say, “Well, it is your day. You have 30 minutes to find a dress and get into it. The makeup artist will be done with us by then.”

I watch the triumph fade to panic then into something like horror. What am planning flies across her face?! Then she’s off like a shot into her closet.

I turn away and go to the hall closet where my tux is kept.

Moments later I hear a shriek and a cry of “Don’t lick that!” coming from Sara’s direction. Then out pranced Tara looking impish and smug.

This is going to be fun.

My hope for the future

For me, my day to day application of being a Sir is to aid those in my care. They aren’t my claimed submissive. It’s been a long time since I’ve had someone who was that. And I do miss it.

But, still, the people in my care receive the watered down version. The guide instead of the commander. While both have their place, I only display the guide without prior explicit consent.

Sometimes that is enough. It has to be enough. Because there is no one clambering at my gates demanding to submit to me. And I’m without romantic relationship right now. I no longer play just to play. I find it empty. I need the care and connection to care. To take care of my submissives needs, even in play. Otherwise it’s just robotic going through the motions, push this button, get this response.

I have no use for that. I don’t feel connected when it’s just sex. For me, that’s not a thing. I am way too far into my head for that to matter. But seeing the delight, the fear, the pain, the pleasure of a partner? Of my good girl or boy? That is worth something. That has meaning. Everything else is just mechanics. And that is ever what I look for. Not just a play partner but a real partner. Nothing less is worth the pain.

Nightmares are also dreams Part 24

Tara’s lips linger over her wife’s. Their breath mingling for the barest moments. Pushing away slowly she stands. Sauntering over like the fox that ate the hen.

I can’t help but smile when I see her confidence restored. And I seeing my approval, Tara lights up in response. She grabs Mr. Fox and sits. Rather primly for one clad only in a stuffed fox.

“Well,” I ask, “what are we to do about this breach of protocol?” I cast a glance at Tara and, as her smile fades, I shake my head. No. Not meant for you.

“Sara dear. You seem to have forgotten that today was to be a slow day of agony. And instead partook of pleasure. Now, she is a sweet succulent peach, to be sure, but that does not excuse the breach of protocol. Whatever am I to do with you?

I suppose, technically, I should punish you in some way. I had planned on hot stones, just a scoach under the temperature at which flesh burns as our next step. Not enough to do harm but enough to think that harm would be done. It’s a shame really.”

The disappointment and fear in Sara’s trembling flesh makes me smile. If only with my eyes.

I wonder if she knows what punishment I had waiting in the wings….

I go to our closet. The walk-in cedar lined walls reflecting the subdued lighting and almost making the wedding dress shine as if in a spotlight.

“Come, dear Sara. Release your bonds and stand, do. I have a present for you.”

I grab the dress by the hangar and sweep around into the bedroom proper. Sara has released the wrist restraints and is bent over working on the ankle ones.

I move to stand in front of her. Knowing that in doing so, the hem is likely to be visible from her position. But she takes her time, almost defiantly, and releases the second cuff before looking up.
Seeing the dress, she looks puzzled. In response, I pull out my cell phone and call for our detail.

“Honey, it’s been more than ten years since we were marries. I think it’s time your family knows. So we are going to take wedding photos. And send them off to your parents. I’m sure they will be ecstatic knowing that their precious jewel is so well loved.”

As I speak, I see the puzzlement fade and be replaced by outright horror. Her parents are a particular kind of monster. And I know she has never confronted them with the truth of her life and lifestyle. Nor will she be doing so now. But I’m not going to let that drop until we have our photos in hand. Let her fret a bit. We’ll talk about it in aftercare.

“And here, my dear. Don’t forget to bring our darling pet along. She’s going to be so beautiful collared and playing, nude at our feet. Aren’t you dear Tara?”

Tara smiles at us shyly and nods eagerly.

Now Sara will have to try and pretend that this is all a happy and good thing. It’ll eat her up.

My little pain slut…did you think that you would get what you wanted so easily?