I woke up this morning in a cold sweat, with a pounding heart, but at the same time extremely aroused and very wet from one of my rather frequent torture nightmares. This one was on a theme I had several nightmares on for so long I can’t even remember when they started. The basic story is my car breaks down in the middle of nowhere, along comes a bunch of “friendly” bikers to “save” me, bringing me to their hangout, where I’m helplessly tied up, roughed up, gang raped by both bikers and their chicks, and then the biker chicks decide to teach me a lesson for “seducing” their guys, by putting me through brutal sexual torture and humiliation, before dumping me somewhere in lethal peril.
The thing is, I know already from the start that letting the bikers “save” me is a really bad idea, and even during the initial steps when being tied up, roughed up an gang raped, which can make me really hot, at least in a dream. I know things will go south, but can’t make myself do anything to prevent it, but rather I do things that I know will make things even worse, like acting all slutty and willing, or provoking the biker chicks by saying they’re so bad their guys need a real woman like me, and other stupidities.
This time it wasn’t one of the worst nightmares, but started out real good with the bikers demanding to know how I desired to be tied up and treated, and I really spilled it to them, despite the better half of me screaming not to tell them, resulting in me having just about every nasty and wicked fantasy fulfilled while having my brains fucked out. The problem was, some really brutal and scary elements from my nightmares slipped out too, despite I knew they would happily put me through them as well. This knowledge both thrilled and scared me silly already from the start while the action was still totally hot for me, but my fears prevented me from having the orgasms stacking up and which I so desperately desired and needed, making me feel like an over-inflated balloon ready to burst from pent-up lust.
I woke up in a state of panic but also strange arousal in the middle of a breast torture session, where the biker chicks seemed to try to compete and excel in brutal ways to extract revenge on and ultimately destroy my agonized breasts, even if some suggestions on extremely painful ways to severe “the oversized and slutty meat bags” had been rejected with the motivation that you can’t punish breasts gone anymore. When I left the nightmare, they were just enjoying themselves by taking turns on yanking me around by a chain padlocked to eye screws drilled very deep into my nipples, with my breasts weighted down by being tied extremely tight with sharp zipties to heavy planks and secured by several large metal nails hammered cleanly through the flesh and wood, while they burned the skin with lit cigarettes and inflicted horrific bruises, welts and lacerations to the tortured flesh by whipping it with electrical cords and beating it with wooden sticks.
OK, I really do like my breasts receiving intense attention, including them being tied tight, even painfully so if I’m hot enough, can actually cum from having them kneaded, slapped and moderately whipped, especially when they’re tied, swollen and extra sensitive, and can even appreciate having them pierced with needles, punched with fists, moderately welted by a cane or being suspended from them when I’m really hot and in the right mood. But that’s still pretty tame compared to what I sometimes dream about.
I know neither why I dream such extreme and brutal dreams, often ending in agonizing deaths, nor why my body reacts with such arousal to them, but it’s been like that at least since my teens. The dreams seem more frequent and hard when I’m sexually frustrated, but that’s no absolute, since my experience this Monday should have drained me enough not to be frustrated after just a day and a half. Most of the extreme and brutal stuff is nothing I would ever want to try in real life, and even if my conscious fantasies can be pretty hard too, especially when I’m tied helpless and already very hot, they never even come close to what I sometimes dream about. Still, I admit I have taken a few ideas from my dreams and after major modifications, making them bearable, survivable and without causing permanent injury, I have added them to my list of possibilities.
Oh fuck, here we go again. Just thinking and writing about tonight’s nightmare and having my breasts tied and tormented makes me very hot. Right now I have an almost desperate wish that someone would sneak up on me, quickly cuff my hand behind my back and gag me, then tie my breasts up wonderfully tight, hoist me up to the balls of my feet by stretching tethers from the breasts up to the hook in the ceiling, forcefully grope and knead my swollen, sensitive and bulging breasts and hard nipples, making me so hot, longing for use and abuse, and then suddenly leave me there, without relief, without any release or rescue, but with my cuffed hands just barely able to reach my vulva from behind and my hoisted breasts, fingertips searching, petting and probing. I poke and play, feeling my heat build, making myself cum again and again, with fingers in my pussy, nails clawing at the base of my hoisted breast, out of reach for the groping and kneading I really need and desire, oh so hot, oh so frustrated, but still milking orgasm after orgasm from my dripping wet pussy, not knowing or caring if there will be any release or rescue, just focusing on my arousal and pleasure, which is all that matters now, even when my legs give in so I suspend almost my entire weight from my breasts, welcoming and enjoying the pain and torment, so needed with my almost unbearable lust and pleasure. I’m just longing and wishing for my intruder to return, not to release me, but to use, abuse and torment me more, again and again, without end, just being his toy, his property, his to do with whatever he wants.
Even if I like my work, there are times when I really hate going there, and right now is one of them. I’d much rather stay at home and do something about what my nightmare and horny ramblings have already done to me, but I’m much too conscientious to call in sick for that reason, so it’s off to the mine, with a tingling body and a wet pussy.