Good news my awesome readers... I'M BACK :D :D :D ! I'm so sorry for not writing anything for a looonnnnggg time, I've just been extremely busy. Due to the positive feedback for my last story Wanna Bet (go check it out if you haven't already), I've decided to write another story along those lines. I'm not going to write a sequel to Wanna Bet cuz I have no idea how to continue it, so I apologize to the people who want one so badly (T^T). I really have no idea how I started to write this, but if you liked Wanna Bet, read on and tell me what you think. Oh and pleeaassseeeee review, they make me happy (^_^)
Startled into wakefulness, Dawn struggled to get free. She thrashed about and fought against the unseen tethers that held her captive – and sat upright in her bed, gasping for air. The tangled and twisted sheets that had held her prisoner had been defeated, once again.
She looked down at her body, still unbelieving. It has been so intense, so vivid. The sounds, the sensations, and even the smell – the scent of arousal and fear and fucking. Could a dream be that real? That you could smell it?
According to the soft green glow of the digital clock on her nightstand, it was almost three in the morning.
Her nakedness gleamed with sweat in the moonlight streaming in through the window. She felt a bead of perspiration gather and swell and finally fall from her left nipple. Fuck, it was hot! She glared at the inoperative air conditioner in the wall next to the window. For what she and Lyra paid to rent this dump, she deserved better than this.
Still disoriented by the intensity of her dream, Dawn freed her left hand from where it had been wedged between her legs and caught up in the sweat-soaked sheets. She had been so close this time. So damn close! Another few seconds and she would have orgasmed.
Was it really true that if you orgasmed in a dream, that you would die?
Fragmentary, disjointed images from the dream careened back and forth in her mind, all jumbled up and making no sense to her now as she fought to arrange them in some sort of logical sequence.
When she used her fingers as a crude comb to chase away several trespassing strands of hair that were plastered to her face, the musky, aromatic fragrance of herself set off a sudden, stroboscopic burst of lightning flashes in her mind. Her pale, naked body standing in a dark field, surrounded by…. surrounded by what?
Dawn lay back down on her bed, her heart beating wildly and her mind not protesting when her hand returned to her pussy.
The urgency of her need was overwhelming.
Her other hand found her left breast and pressed down on the soft pillow of flesh as if to keep her heart from leaping out of her chest. She pulled and twisted and savaged her nipple, while at the same time she forced a second finger back into her spasming cunt and raked her clit with her thumbnail.
The rasping of her breath and the creaking protests of the old wooden bed frame were soon joined by another chorus of sounds. The bursts of lightning flared again behind her eyelids. Dawn saw herself standing in the field again, this time with circle of tall dark shapes moving to surround her.
The sounds got louder, closer. Dawn struggled to place them. A sudden loud moan that did not come from between her own clenched teeth finally told the story.
It was Misty, in her bed on the other side of the thin, plasterboard wall in the next apartment. She was being fucked, or beaten, or both; and she was liking it – a lot.
Misty's face was pressed up against the wall, her lips mere inches from Dawn's pillow, being held there while she was doing – or being forced to do – what to Dawn sounded like unspeakable, degenerate, depraved acts of passion. Her moans and strangled cries radiated with pure, primeval lust through the decades of paint and uncounted layers of wallpaper that were all that really separated her bed from Dawn's.
Dawn twisted around so that her own face was pressed up against the wall to listen.
Still abusing her cunt and tits with her hands; she kissed the wall, wanting to taste and drink the passion directly from Misty's lips. Aching to experience the unbridled sexual fury that drove Misty to such heights of sexual pyrotechnics, Dawn dug her fingernails into her clit. The pain brought tears to her eyes and her cunt spasmed again, gripping the fingers that explored the entrance to her womb. She cried, tears of pain and need and jealousy cascading down her face.
It wasn't enough. She needed what Misty had.
Misty's bed thudded hard against the wall inches from Dawn's pillow, sending a small shower of dust raining down on her sweat-streaked face. Again and again, the bed recoiled against the wall. It was as if the bed, or its occupant, wanted to escape.
Misty moaned again, milliseconds after a muted, though still harsh, thud reverberated through the wall.
Dawn's hands kneaded her own arousal into a hot, pulsing urgency, her hands pinching and thrusting in time with the blows thudding against Misty's body.
Oh, yes. Please. Now. Fuck me. Fuck me. Fuck ME! FUCK ME!
A sudden crash that made the whole room vibrate and the new, louder shrieks of protest from Misty's bed told her that Misty had been lifted up and bodily thrown back down onto the bed. This was quickly followed by the sounds of someone else leaping onto the bed and onto Misty's wonderfully curved, built-for-sex body. The now-rhythmic thumping of the bed against the wall meant that Misty was being fucked now, being fucked by a wild, ravening beast.
"Yes! Yes! Harder. Please. Oh god, oh god. Thank you!" Misty's voice telegraphed her arousal and the nearness of her orgasm.
Dawn pressed her ear tightly against the wall, to catch every last breathless syllable.
"Please, Sir. Please. Harder. Do it again."
The sound of a loud wet, skin-on-skin SLAP sliced through the wall like a knife through butter.
"Yes. Again, please. Yes! Yes, I am your cunt. I am your obedient little slut. Please, please, let me come!"
Misty was slapped again; a quick fury of blows against her flesh the response to her entreaty and her declaration. The man's voice was low, drowned by Misty's pleading and the incessant banging of her bed against the wall, not letting Dawn make out his words. But his intent was clear. He was not going to let Misty have her orgasm – at least not yet.
Misty was thrashing around on the bed, her hands bumping against the wall and her fingernails scratching at the wallpaper as she wrapped her hands around the bedposts to steady herself against the fury of her assailant.
The manbeast grunted his displeasure at Misty's thrashing. More slaps and then a quick flurry of metallic sounds ended with the sounds of a chain being threaded through a ring attached to the wall and shackles being snapped shut.
"Please, oh god, please, let me come," Misty pleaded, her voice now accompanied by a chorus of clinking metal links as she writhed on the bed.
"Please, yes, I want to come, too," Dawn echoed as she scrabbled about in her nightstand drawer for her dildo. "Let me come, too." When her hand found it, she quickly impaled herself on the entirety of its length. The shriek that escaped her lips was deafening, it was so loud. The fucking and the torturing of Misty's diminishing ability to hold off her orgasm continued unabated next door, though Dawn was sure that Misty had heard her cry out.
Dawn was on her back now, neck tilted so her ear was still touching the wall. She had her legs underneath her, her naked cunt lifted up off the bed, while she fucked herself as hard as she could with the huge rubber prick. As hard as Misty was being drilled by the real cock next door, she hoped.
Misty was getting louder and more frantic. Dawn could hear her lover – lover? – telling her what a dirty, nasty slut she was; and how she didn't deserve to come. That she hadn't earned the privilege of giving him her orgasm. Misty wailed in frustration as she poured out her soul to the man who was fucking her and slapping and spanking her.
"Please, Paul, oh god, please! Let me come for you. Yes, I am your slut. Your whore. That's it, yes. Ohh, fuck, yes. In the ass. Now. Ahhh! More. Deeper. I'm your fuckslave. Yes, you can tell anyone! Pleeeease!"
Paul proceeded to fuck Misty's ass like a wild beast. Her warbling cries of pain-soaked lust drove Dawn to the brink of orgasm herself as she savaged her cunt and pinched her clit in an attempt to keep pace with what was happening on the other side of the wall.
And when Paul finally permitted Misty to come, Dawn exploded in orgasm in tandem with the extremely vocal Misty. The two women thrashed about on their beds, mere inches apart as their orgasms seized their bodies and shook them like rag dolls.
When it was over, Dawn was too weak to move. She uncurled her legs from beneath her body, but left the long, fat dildo sticking out of her cunt like an obscene spear. As she hugged her tits and cupped her mons to make the fire burn for a few more minutes, she heard Misty murmuring her thanks to her tormenter as she cleaned his cock with her tongue.
The next thing Dawn knew was that it was morning, and she was late for class.
When she awoke to the bright light of the morning sun blazing in her eyes, she could not believe that any of the previous night had been real. It must have been a dream. Standing naked in the field, surrounded by dozens of shapes – men? - while the lightning flashed, Misty chained - being fucked and sodomized and beaten while she begged for more – and begged for her orgasm.
And what she had done to secretly join Misty in her orgy of lust and degradation.
All a dream.
But no, not a dream. The smell of sex and fucked cunt that permeated the tiny bedroom said otherwise. And most of all, the dildo sticking out of her naked pussy between her legs told her that at least part of the dream had been a lie. She had actually done that, fucking herself so she could come along with Misty, so that at least a small part of her could join in the orgasmic fury that had unleashed itself next door.
It was a good thing that Lyra was gone for a week, gone back home to bury her grandmother. Lyra would understand none of this.
Dawn fell out of bed onto the floor and crawled on her hands and knees into the miniscule bathroom to curl up under the showerhead to bathe. It was only when the water was nearly cold and she had washed her sweat and her come down the drain beneath her huddled body that she removed the dildo from her cunt. Instinctively, she forced the dildo into her mouth to imprint the taste of her sinfulness into her mind, and to make a feeble attempt to emulate what Misty had done last night after she had been fucked in the ass.
When Dawn finally was ready to face the outside world, she had already missed her first two classes of the day. Dreading all of the catch-up work and studying she was going to have to do, she stuffed her backpack full of the books she would need for the day along with her notebook PC, and hoisted it to her shoulders.
Running a hand through her spiky blonde hair in a feeble attempt to tame it, she turned the key in the lock and started down the hallway.
"Hi, Dawn," a familiar voice called from behind her. "Aren't you usually gone, like, hours ago for your first class?
Dawn turned around to face her, trembling, almost too afraid to look.
"Hi, Misty. Yeah, I know. I slept late. Forgot to set the fucking alarm clock."
Dawn studied the always suggestively attired Misty Yawa for any telltale signs of the uninhibited fuckslut, or of the wild orgy of rough sex she had partaken of last night. Nothing about the cheery and voluble Misty standing in the hallway now gave any hint that the heart of a masochist beat beneath her tight blue spandex top and that a slut's well-reamed ass hid behind the curtain of her red leather microskirt.
As Misty glided up to stand next to Dawn, a tall, rangy man with long, stringy purple hair dressed in tight black jeans and a Grateful Dead t-shirt slammed Misty's door shut and sauntered down the hallway to snake his arm around Misty's tiny waist.
"Who's this, pet?" he asked, while his eyes shamelessly caressed every inch of Dawn's body, seeing right through the tight, cropped white t-shirt and her low-slung, painted-on pants.
"Dawn, my neighbor," Misty answered, tilting her head in the direction of Dawn's apartment door to confirm her status. "She's into computers and stuff, like you wouldn't believe. Dawn, this is Paul."
Paul continued to leer at Dawn while his arm uncoiled from around Misty's waist to massage the back of her neck and count her vertebrae down to the top of her ass. "Were we too loud last night?"
Dawn watched Misty's nipples flare into hardness when Paul began to squeeze her ass. Her neighbor grinned and twisted to kiss Paul wetly on his ear. "Dawn's bedroom is right on the other side of the wall from mine. Of course we were too loud. At least I know I was."
"No, not really," Dawn lied. "I've been working on this set of routines for, like, three fucking days now, living on coffee and pretzels and ice cream, and I finally crashed around 6 last night – both me and the fucking computer – so I was completely out of it last night. That's why I'm late today. And the shitty program still isn't working."
She smiled what she hoped was a rueful, innocent smile. "So if you two were moaning and groaning and being loud when you were doing the nasty, you were playing to an empty house."
"Too bad," Paul said. "Maybe you would have liked to join us."
"Paul!" Misty dug her elbow into Paul's ribs. "Stop that. Dawn's not like that. Don't be such a shit!"
"Sorry," Paul replied, though Dawn knew that he wasn't, even the least bit. His eyes spoke a completely different message.
"Damn! I forgot something. See you later," Dawn blurted out, as she felt her face flushing with embarrassment and with the fear that Paul would see through her lies and know that she had been a hidden, third participant in their deviant tryst last night. She darted back into her apartment and slammed the door closed behind her.
Tossing her backpack on the floor, she leaned against the door, her heart beating like a jackhammer and her breath coming in short, shallow gulps of air. She had never been so unnerved and scared of someone before in her life.
Oh god, did he know I was lying? He knows. He heard me. He had to. Oh, fuck, what do I do now? What will I say when I see him again? He's going to undress my lies along with my body…
Unzipping her pants and reaching inside, she closed her eyes and fingered her already drenched pussy to a quick, hard orgasm while she gripped to door handle to maintain her balance.
In a flash, she was back on her bed, ear pressed to the wall, listening though the wall to Paul and Misty as her muscles tightened like a vise around the fingers buried in her cunt.
"Please, Sir. Please. Harder. Do it again."
SLAP!
"Yes. Again, please. Yes! Yes, I am your cunt. I am your obedient little slut. Please, please, let me come!"
After the voices in her head and her orgasmic spasms faded away, and her heart rate and breathing returned to something resembling normal, Dawn washed her hands and recombed her hair. She stopped short of changing out of her soaking wet panties, though. For reasons she did not fully analyze or understand, she decided to wear them for the rest of the day.
When she emerged from her apartment again, she was already too late for her third class.
Dawn decided, instead, to go to the library to do some research for one of her history papers. She turned to walk up the hill towards the library, thinking about Misty, and Paul – and thinking about the very wet wisp of silk that was riding up between her labia and again dampening the crotch of her pants.
As far as academics went, Dawn's day was a complete and utter failure. The time she spent in the library evaporated in a hazy fog of twisted images of Misty and Paul, of herself and Paul, and of her and Misty chained together and being forced to submit to him together.
The sheer wickedness and the raw brutality of her visions scared her. But they did not keep her panties from being constantly wet. By the time she ended the fiction of studying her Algorithms text and working on her Statistics assignment, she had one hand methodically rubbing her pussy through the tight, wet denim of her pants beneath the unused textbook she held on her lap.
When she rose unsteadily to her feet and packed her things, Dawn knew what she needed to do.
On her way back to her apartment, she detoured several streets over to the strip where the bars and nightclubs created a candyland of adult temptations that fed off the university students' need for diversions from academics and their craving for places to test their newly acquired independence from parental oversight. She searched for a while before she found it, halfway down a non-descript alley behind a nightclub with a reputation for depravity that far exceeded its competitors.
When she finally stood in front of its blackened windows, she looked up and down the ally to see if anyone was paying any attention to her. No one. She paced back and forth in front of the entrance, trying to see into the fluorescent colored interior through the open door.
The shop appeared empty of customers.
After surveying the alley one more time to make sure, Dawn screwed up her courage and crossed the threshold into the alien world within. The sight of all of the magazines and videos and the walls of…. of amazing and indescribable things made Dawn's head spin.
"Hello. Can I help you?"
Dawn nearly leaped out of her skin.
"Sorry, but you looked like you weren't sure you were in the right place. I didn't mean to scare you."
Dawn turned around to face the voice. A tall young woman stood behind a counter next to the cash register. She was dressed in a purple spandex dress, her face framed by long, dark hair that cascaded over her shoulders; and with a studded leather collar around her slender, pale neck. And she was smiling at her, clearly enjoying her obvious discomfort.
"Are you in the right store?" the woman asked. "You look a bit, well, out of place. Thinking, 'nice girls don't go into places like this'. Am I right?"
"Yes. No. Yes, I mean... I am in the right place. I need to get some things. And no, I wasn't thinking that. About nice girls, I mean."
"But you are a nice girl, aren't you?" The woman came out from behind her counter. The purple spandex ended a few centimeters beneath her pussy, leaving her long, slender legs in full view all the way down to her spike-heeled ankle boots. "It's OK. Nice girls fuck, too; even though their parents sometimes can't imagine their precious little ones ever doing it. And some nice girls like to do wicked, unspeakable things when they fuck."
Dawn bowed her head but did not refute the 'nice girl' label that the woman had so accurately engraved on her forehead. "I just want to look around for a bit."
"All right. Let me know if you have any questions. My name is Annabel, by the way. And I'm a nice girl, too. And I do love to do unspeakable things. Depraved, obscene, unspeakable, things. I'll tell you about some of them, if you want."
"No, no thank you. I'll just look around, thanks."
Dawn edged away from Annabel and turned to stare at a wall of vibrators and dildos. The variety of sizes and shapes and colors was staggering. Still feeling Annabel's eyes watching the back of her head, she slowly paced along the wall, searching. And not finding what she was looking for.
Another customer entered the shop. Annabel greeted the male voice as a familiar, regular customer and kindred pervert.
Dawn inched along the wall, trying to be inconspicuous. It wasn't until she spied the entryway into another room and darted into it, that she felt like she could relax and really look at the amazing things arrayed on the racks and hooks and tables around her.
When Dawn emerged from the back room, the other customer was gone. She walked to the counter and dumped her selections down in front of Annabel, who was back in her spot next to the cash register.
"Did you find everything you were looking for?" Annabel asked, her face betraying her amusement at Dawn's discomfort.
"Yes. Yes, I did. Everything." Dawn pushed the pile towards Annabel. "I'll take these."
"OK, let's see what we have here," Annabel said as she began to sort the items in the disorderly pile and ring them up on the register. "Hmmm, quite the assortment here. Are these for you? Or are you going to use them on someone else?"
"Um, they're for me," Dawn blurted out truthfully, before she could think of anything else to say. "I want them for myself."
"You do know how to be careful with them, don't you? I mean, you have to know what you're doing. You don't want to do something stupid and get yourself in trouble, or get hurt."
"Yes, I know. I know how to use them," Dawn replied, as she regained her composure enough to lie again.
Annabel looked unconvinced as she put the last of Dawn's purchases into the black plastic bag. "All right, then. You're all set."
Dawn counted out her money and completed the transaction.
"Come back on Saturday night," Annabel offered. "We are doing a class over at Hellfire after midnight. On how to use the tools of the trade safely and effectively." Annabel licked her lips and grinned. "And I get to be the model. My Trainer is going to use me to demonstrate how to whip a slut to the edge of orgasm – safely and effectively. It's going to be my first time in front of a group. It is going to be so fucking hot, I can't stop thinking about it."
"Maybe, I'll have to see," Dawn said.
"Enjoy your new toys," Annabel called out as Dawn scooped up her bag and headed for the door. "And do come back on Saturday. I would love to have you in the audience, watching me. A friendly face, to cheer me on. Even if you do know all about using it all properly."
"Like I said, maybe." And then Dawn was back outside in the alley, back in the oppressive summer heat.
