A Dream That Wasn't Ch. 01

Unfinished, white-washed walls, run along row, after row of mismatching tables. Worn and bulky, old things made of coarse wood. The air in here smells of smoke, with hunts of cider. There are no windows in sight, but the room is made visible by weak lighting; probably from a fireplace, somewhere out of view. Loose hay, from the bales used as benches, cover the hardwood floors and fifteen or so rugged looking men, crowd the hall.

Sitting down, curiously unaware of anyone; apparently focused on their dinners.

Except the hulking one who's intently coming towards You, that is.

-

He is a big, burly man; dressed in furs for winter, which, paired with, his thick beard and mot of messy black hair, make it hard to see his face. He might be kin to Giants, for all I know, but he looks a lot meaner, even, from across the room.

"Where the fuck am I," I mumble almost inaudibly, eyes wide with worry.

"I do NOT recognize this man," and my heart starts to pound against my chest.

"Who is this?... and why..?"

"The fuck Is he coming...this way..."

I glance around me, looking for answers that aren't there. All the while keeping the man in my peripheral, unwilling to give him the jump on me.

Everyone else is clustered on the other side of the aisle, making it abundantly clear that the large shape moving this way is, indeed, heading for...

"ME?!" I nearly shout. My fear now evident.

"You are not my Dom," I spit in his general direction, leaning away.

"This isn't right," that I'm certain of, the affirmation, makes my stomach sink as my heart rate steadily trends upward.

"What to do... what to do.," muttering, I hope to grab hold of something to defend myself with. I pat my sides and take a quick look, on either side of the row of tables, for anything useful.

Regrettably the windowless place has nothing to offer me but furniture and straws.

Asking for help seems like the only course of action left to me. So, I peel my eyes off of the giant fully for the first time, unable to ignore the rush of blood in my ears.

Facing the hall, I take a few steps back, to distances myself from my foe, and abruptly bump into a table while trying to scan the scene. I grab onto the table's side, needing the support to stay up right. Feeling increasingly light headed from the panic.

-

"Wait, what? Is..is everyone...?" Jessika stares, wide eyed and gaping. That initial assumption she had, that all the large men were sitting down to their meals, was wrong. But the room is dim and it's only, now, upon closer inspection that she focuses on what they are actually sitting down to:

"Bodies." Jessika gasps.

They are all women, lying toe to toe on tables, pinned up against walls, and sitting on hay bales with heads between their legs.

Some of them are older but most are young women of varying size, and shade, either naked, or half dressed in velvet corset-gowns. Splayed out or bent over they are clearly enjoying the attention and affection received.

To your far left, one man gingerly sucks the chestnut nipples of a blond chick, sitting naked on his lap. The young lady seemingly more preoccupied with the man next to her. Who's giving her friend a good lick off the lips. Below the waist.

Across the room from them, a brunet on his knees smiles, between each kiss he plants, on the bare thighs of a brown woman with large jugs. Another man strokes the same woman's hair. Trying to jerk off near her face. The woman herself, beautiful locks and all, was giggling after a failed attempt to lean back. She needs to lower herself to take the one man's load but doesn't want to let go of the dress she's been holding up for the other. A delightful predicament.

In the corner to your right, a bearded man is mercilessly slamming into a young girl, bent over his table. He has her hands gripped tight on her back and her body held down by the neck. She is red-faced, half-dressed and drooling, unable to do anything but take it; you can hear her crying out from here.

-

"I want what she's having," is the first thing I blurt out, as I realize, that this must be a dream.

"Wait...what about the big guy," I turn my head back to find the wild man, now halfway across the room from me, eyes still locked on.

So I look down and sure enough, my breasts are pushed up to my chin, on the verge of spilling over, in a blood-red corset. The seams run tense along the sides, tightly hugging the curvature of my hips to accentuating the waist, until it turns into a loose flowing, see through, lace gown. Long legs and clean shaven, pink, pussy lips, clearly visible underneath the thin material.

"I must look the ideal hourglass hooker, long chestnut hair draped over supple tits, thick legs shaven as smooth as silk in this skimpy red riding hood outfit." I scoff, rolling my eyes.

"At least I understand why he is staring," I concede, before returning my gaze to the room.

It takes me a second to focus, but when I do, there is a wall of fabric towering over me. The Black bearded man is 3 inches from my face and I have to crane my head back, to see his. I'm caught off guard by the hunger in his eyes and in that moment muscular arms, hardly straining, hoist me up on to the table behind me. Holding me securely in place by the waist.

"If this is a dream there is no harm in enjoying it. In fact, why should I NOT?" I smirk, feeling slutty with another man's hands on me.

In one swift motion he has hiked up my dress and I can feel strong hands start to slide around my hips, to my lower back, just grazing my ass and down. To settle under your thighs, firmly grabbing hold of my flesh. I forget myself and nearly hoot:

"Yes!" Already feeling the moisture spread between my legs. All the tension I felt from panic had turned to liquid and was now seeping from my cunt.

"Oh fuck," I breath as he yanks my thighs apart and toward him, with more strength than I could resist. A quick glance around the room and it's clear that these men are savages. This is gonna be straight to the point and rough.

"Just how I like it," I sigh. My cheeks warm with embarrassment.

Leaning back, in search of something to steady myself with, I say:

"This table will have to do."

"All of this is hot and all, but I can't be intimate with anyone but Master. Even in my dreams ."

So I devise a list of do's and don'ts, of the top of my head, that would make Master proud:

"No touching, holding, eye contact or kissing. Sex," I assure myself, " it's just sex." A shy smile spreading on my face.

"Yes, Master would approve of a dirty little whore, like me, having such provocative dreams."

"Although," I wonder,

"Maybe not as thrilled knowing it's not him, I'm dreaming of."

A second later, the so far mute giant, rams into me so hard it hurts. He shoves in with such force that the base of his cock hits my pelvis causing me to yelp:

"aAah!!"

And my vision shifts...

-

Looking down you see yourself, almost in slow motion, leaning back as the BFG begins his greedy assault on you.

The pain has subsided and now all you feel is stretched and full. You close your eyes, letting them roll back, a cord in your lower abdomen beginning to tighten, and your breath grows shallow.

The man's hands are clasped around the depth of your torso, at the ribs. Easily pinning your whole upper body between his large forearms, his elbows just brushing your hips, as he leans into you.

He is strong and you feel the pressure of his size in your lower gut as he bottoms you out.

Putting his whole weight and force behind him with every push into your slit. Pushing up your cervix and pressing you down onto him as he goes. Going deep, pulling back and then deeper still. You reflexively drop your head back.

If this wasn't a dream, you'd for sure be left with bruises. Down your lower back, from the force he is pinning you against the table with.

Over your ribs, right under your boobs and to the sides, from his steel grip. Not to mention how sore your vag would be from the impact of his incessant strokes.

-

Regardless of better judgment, my legs are now wrapped tightly around his waist, pulling him in into me with every thrust. My pussy throbs as he leans forward to bury his face into my chest; nibbling as he goes.

There is a growing cool patch along my thighs, around the center of all the hot friction. As if someone had spilled half a glass of water on my lap, but I know it's my pussy juice.

Wave after wave of sensation hit me, the muscles in my lower belly getting tighter, and my legs stiffen.

"fuck. fuck. fuck!" I moan thoughtlessly. My face feels flushed and the tingling in my toes persuade me to curl them. I see myself bounce back and forth...with every. Hard. Thrust...He. Delivers!

Pushing my legs further back. Parting my lips and stretching my hole.

-

Your tits are bobbing along in tune. Mouth wide open, mid moan. Your vision grows blurry at the edges and it's all turning in to sensation.

Cunt pulsing around his shaft, it's lips thick from the flow of blood and pounding. Mindlessly you shove your hand in his hair. The scene fades to nothing as you still feel his warm cock nudging at your insides. Nothing but a wet sloppy mess pressed between you two.

Suddenly he latches onto your shoulder, biting down, hard, right above your clavicle and you climb that peak.

Then,

you are gone.

**********************

All you know is that it's cold, cold enough to be aware off but not enough to move.

"Why is it freezing?" you wonder, swaying in and out of consciousness.

**********************

A shift that must have been something heavy settling on the mattress drags you back to the edge waking. Sure enough you feel a large arm, pulling you towards, what you now realize must be Jon, your Husband. He angles your head between his bicep and his chest and you feel his breath making ripples in the hair above your ear,

"He must be leaning his face into mine," the thought makes you smile. You feel warm again and reflexively snuggle into him, which he responds to by gently shushing you back to sleep. Planting kisses in your hair.

***********************

The sun shining through the curtains wake me and I could swear, I'm sore.

Turning, I find Jon sitting up next to me, watching a muted TV-show.

He looks over with a sly grin and asks:

"How'd you sleep whore?" One eyebrow raised, making me blush scarlet. He must have heard me last night and I'm going to be punished for it.

I shift to get into a seated position, causing the collar I have on to move, gently brushing against skin.

It hits me then:

"Shit, we are still in scene," I scramble, groggy from sleep, realizing the obvious:

"Well duh, Jon doesn't call me names in the morning...but Master..."

After all, the black leather band around my throat means, that right now, I am: Jessika the slut, Jessika, the useless, cum guzzling whore.

In scene my only purpose is:

To obey and please my Master.

Jessika the loving wife and my husband's best friend, shouldn't be around when my collar is locked in place. so i take a deep breath [inhale] to settle myself. [exhale] Embodying the role Master describes as a hopelessly dumb cock-hungry plaything:

"I slept well Daddy. It was cold and I had a naughty dream, but I slept well, thank you or asking, Sir." Instinctively lowering my gaze to avoid direct eye contact, I hear daddy chuckle.

"Oh you had a dream did you?"

"You sure about that?"

"Cause, I'm pretty sure MY dick is still wet from being in your hole slut," he continues mockingly,

"I thought you'd wake up once I rammed into you, in fact, I took your hip-gyrating to mean you were awake."

"But you are telling me...I was wrong?" he asks, leaning in closer, examining, what must now be, my bewildered expression.

"I went to sleep. had a dream. felt you come to bed. and then woke up, that's it." I say more to myself than him. SLAP.

It came out of nowhere, but was unmistakable. The backhand connects with my left cheek turning my head sideways and making my eyes darken for a tenth of a second. Next thing I know I'm on my back with Master's hands on my throat and he angrily demands through gritted teeth:

"Tell me what that slap was for you stupid cunt."

With some difficulty to breathe, I think and after identifying my mistake, I manage to sputter out:

"For disrespectfully not using your title, daddy,"

SLAP.

"Now tell me what that one was for you worthless WHORE!"

"I don't know daddy."

SLAP.

"Its Master when you anger me." He says menacingly, grabbing me by the face until my lips are pursed out.

"Amm sowwy Masser!" I plead borderline incomprehensible.

"Oh you will be. You've made master angry now."

"Get on your fucking knees and bite down on something." He says before getting up to go choose what he'll be punishing me with today.

-

You scoot to the edge of the bed on your knees, as instructed, with your legs spread. Your upper body resting on your elbows and forearms, between them you hold a pillow to bury your face in. A common place tool, for muffling your screams/moans. And there you stay...waiting for the first blow to land.

A soft hand brushes your lower back, making circles down to your right cheek. You hold your breath, expecting the blow to come from somewhere on the left. However are taken completely by surprise when Master buries himself into you, with one hard thrust.

"No!" you gasp, his girth painfully pushing your lips apart. Your hole, strains tightly, dry, around his dick. Your eyes brim with tears as you pull at the bedding, reeling from the sudden stab.

-

Master stills, only lightly tapping my ass [tap] while flexing his hips. [tap, tap] On or two times and again. [tap] [three, four] I exhale allowing my body to relax. [tap, tap] [one, two] Dropping my shoulders. [tap] [three, four] Un-clenching my jaw. [tap, tap] [one, two] Allowing I cunt to get wet. [tap] [three, four]. That's when the switch happens. The pain melts... surging out of nowhere into pleasure.

"Fuck that feels gooOd" But I'm pulled from my reverie by his accusing tone:

"How would you feel Jessika, if I believed it wasn't you, but someone else, pleasing me right now?" he purrs and it occurs to me:

"The dream! crap!"

"He is mad about the dream." I realize, about to retort. I want to explain how it wasn't my fault, that dreams can't be controlled, when he swiftly pulls out, before slamming back in to me. Shoving my face forward into the bed. Effectively silencing me.

His onslaught begins after that, giving no space for adjustment and seeing that my position is off, I buckle.

"You worthless cum-dump!" He spits on my back.

"You can't even take dick right," rubbing it in, and pinches my love handle harshly. A gargled:

"Ouch." comes out of me, but my mind is only aware of the hand he is inching up back.

Dancing along my spine, gliding with saliva, his hand pauses right at the base of my neck. He slides his left hand from where it was pinching my hip, down to my mound. I feel his hand close, holding me, almost pinching the lips.

As soon as he adjusts to insures that one finger rests on the clit, his right hand lurches forward hitting the base of my skull. latching on.

Suddenly all his weight is bared on my head, and he is pulling my pussy back as he brings his hips forward.

-

"Hmmm...standing gives Master the perfect balance," you think.

His thrusts are explosive, only pulling back slightly before slamming back in again. In and out, one after the other.

Leaning into it, you angle up your ass up, resting your body weight on your chest and spreading your arms to hold yourself in place for him.

Drool is running down your flushed red face, onto the pillow. Your hair is a post-wake-up mess, getting in your mouth as it sways to Master's on going rhythm.

At this pace even he has to be tuckered out soon.

"Although soon could be a ballpark 40 minutes" you speculate, enjoying every second, hoping it never ends.

Drops of dew are running down your thigh as he picks up the pace. You feel his pelvic bone hitting yours every time your bodies bridge, creating a dull thud that symphonies with his pants, your moans, and the wet sounds emitting from your now aching slit.

-

He suddenly pulls out, leaving me feeling empty and in need.

"Whyyyyhh...?" I breath a gargled moan. His response sharp:

"I take the time to make you cum even when you are sleeping you dumb bitch."

"And this is how you repay Master's kindness?" he asks, sounding almost hurt now.

"You would give credit to a dream for making you cum." WHACK.

The belt lands dead center across the length of my back and my lungs struggle for the air he knocked out of them. I try to stay as still as possible, knowing all too well that if I squirm, there will blood.

Every muscle in my body is tensed up waiting for the sting to dull down. Master must have had the belt near at hand, waiting for me to forget i was due for punishment.

"You didn't even register that it was your Master's dick in you," he sighs from somewhere behind me.

"Yet you were a moaning, wet mess, regardless." WHACK.

The second hits my ass full force. I wince and curse into the pillow, but am grateful he didn't strike my back twice.

"Was it even me you dreamt about or will any hard prick do for you these days."

"Hhhmmmm?" He is leaning in close now, hovering just above me, to the left. Apparently waiting for an answer.

I've been biting the pillow so hard, it takes some effort to stop and lift my head up to answer:

"No Da..." I start to say.

WHACK.

My vision goes black,

"FuuUCK!!" I bellow at the top of my lungs, my ass searing. The belt lands on the same spot a second time, elevating the sting to an aching burn.

Despite the mounting pain I hold my position, like a good slave, gasping for air as a tear or three slide down my face.

"Thank you master." I manage. Aware that my full surrender is what he craves.

"Good girl," he coos placing a hand gently on what must now be a bright pink ass cheek. [tap, tap]

"Are you ever going to forget who you belong to?" He hums.

WHACK.

The last stroke catches both thighs and I am about to break...

"WELL, are you?!"

WHACK.

Crying I try to find my words:

"I won't...I wont forget who..." but that's all I get out before he flips me over and shoves his way deep inside me again.

"You and all your holes," He growls in my ear,

"Fucking. Belong. To. Me." Hitting my cervix with each words for emphasis.

After a min he slows down. His left arms snaking under my right shoulder to hold my head steady by the neck. He pins me to the bed with his right elbow angled on my left shoulder. My vision is blurry though the tears, but we lock eyes, and he furrows his brow, saying:

"This is what unappreciative slaves get." His right hand slaps on to my mouth and pushes up to plug my nose; he leans in to my ear and goes:

"They need to beg their Master for breath."

"So beg, my helpless whore."

"Fucking beg."

My vision goes black before returning, only to be followed by a blinding current of pleasure. Every inch of skin is tingling. My toes curl, pulling up my knees and my pussy tightens around his cock, reaching climax.