A "Dream" of Passion

Last night, I dreamed of a black horse. Upon waking, I looked in the dictionary of dreams I keep in my bedside table, to see if there is any significance to this particular night time vision. It seems a dream of a black horse is a dream of passion. Considering all that has happened in the past weeks, I am not surprised.

But, the dream beast's eyes glowed crimson.

And to call twenty years "past weeks" …hardly! From when I first began to realize who and what I was, dreams of passion in the forms of black horses, trains going through tunnels, soaring through the air, pumping pistons – whatever, engulfed my spirit and burned deep within my girly-girl soul. Those dreams brought me to where I am today: Okay maybe a slut, but a beautiful slut nonetheless.

Men became fascinating creatures, but easy ones to use. In high school guys seemed to trip all over themselves as this Ugly Duckling fast became a hottie with big tits, honey blonde hair, sky blue eyes, killer legs and wasp waist. They were like kids in a candy store, and the jocks did not hesitate to fall all over themselves and choose me as their homecoming queen. Making the cheerleading squad proved a cinch, too, once the male supervisor was impressed. Even teachers cast the occasional wink my way, and getting good grades was never much of a problem. Grown men eagerly gave me jobs. Older ones lavished expensive gifts, limo rides, fine dining, and so forth. I hardly had to do anything except let Nature takes it's course, and lucky me that course all worked in my favor. None of them guessed, however, what I really felt inside…

Baths were usually private times to be relished. Soaping my body, I felt every curve. When I had to, I used a razor in the bath to shave my legs and pits. Water and suds dripped off of each lovely limb as I raised it from the water and applied the blade. Vanilla scent from lit candles placed around the tub wafted over. Closing my eyes my hand would cup a tit and gently squeeze. It's fullness excited. Fingers still fondling the warm and soapy mass, my eyes opened. Dropping my chin toward the breast my full lips parted. I sucked on the nipple harder and harder and then bit. My hips shifted under the bath water. One thigh crossed over the other. Breathing got faster as I sucked. Senses swirled and flooded my brain. The entire bathroom steamed with differing hues. My eyes crunched shut again and I released the tit. Arching my back I cried out. And then shuddered as I slowly sunk back into the soapy water. Fingers carefully sought my pussy. The nails clawed and pulled the hairs. One finger entered me. Another thumbed my clit. From somewhere – I cared not from where – my voice cried out again, and again I slumped beneath the water, chest heaving..

He was the first one to come close to what I really felt inside. Tall with brown hair, a sweet smile and stunning hazel eyes, we both met on the job. Soon it was clear to both of us that we were attracted. I took him back to my apartment on the third day. Like all of the rest, he marveled at my exposed tits. His tongue licked each nipple and that was fine, until I told him to bite. Hard! Harder!!!

That first time we fucked he was too afraid of hurting me. Gradually though, he got into the biting part. The more my nipples hurt, the more I got excited. I dug my nails into his back. Parallel lines made by my fingernails cross-hatched his back. We used oils, tore apart clothes. I stood still as he shaved my pussy bald. He wanted me to spank his ass to urge him on as we fucked sort of like spurring a horse and I, of course, thought of that black horse in my dreams.

I did as he wanted and later suggested we do it doggy style. To me being down on hands and knees while being fucked made it all the more humiliating, and all the more exciting. I snarled, but loved it as he pulled on my hair, just like any animal. I later found out that this somewhat reluctant man with the nice eyes and sweet smile also had a much darker and delicious side about him that he was looking to share. Lucky me…

He became my Captain, just like the character out of the "Beauty" books I read. I was bent over chairs and tables as we fucked. Once on a short trip I was positioned atop a round table, looking out through a bay window high above pedestrians, nude and used. In greeting him I kneeled naked, knees pointing outward, hands behind my head, eyes closed and called him "Master". Though my Master was frequently cruel, he seemed to like this greeting. He approved of it and my habit of avoiding any V.P.L., or visible panty line, when in public. He said that I was to continue this habit of not wearing any panties under my clothes. In cars and under restaurant tables he frequently grabbed me between my legs.

This man made me wet as no other previously had.

At his place I gasped as he ripped off the white shirt I wore. He then tied a blindfold around my eyes. I felt a dog collar placed around my neck. A leash was then attached, and jerked downward. I followed the pull and ended up again on hands and knees. The carpet underneath was soft as we covered some distance. The leash pulled me back to my feet. One arm was pulled out, and I felt cloth binding it to the lower portion of the loft. The other arm also was tied. I hung suspended, unable to see. Fire shot through my tit as the first clamp bit. Another pinched a nipple. Despite the pain, I was getting more and more hot. I wanted his caress, his cock, his kiss, anything! Instead, another fire erupted in my other tit. And another. And more. From my suspended, blindfolded position, my legs squirmed. My tongue rolled out and licked my lips. I panted. The feel of the braided leather across my chest almost made me pass out with desire. And then I heard it swish. Just before my torso shook. My gasp was a combination of shock, pain and orgasm. The leather snake struck again, and again. What previously had been a burning sensation now achingly throbbed with sweet pleasure. I cried out as the last cloth around my hips was ripped away and I felt his fingers plunge into me. The fingers twisted inside, and then swirled. A thumb rubbed my clit. I felt all hot and wet. Then something really big entered. Stronger and more rigid than his cock, it almost hurt. Nearly as soon as it entered, whatever it was began to pump. My hips undulated in rhythm.

When I was released from hanging and the blindfold removed I saw him, and the clothespins and the marks. We made passionate love on his bed. With excruciating slowness, he pulled the clothespins from my flesh. Before he completed the task, I madly kissed him and wrapped my legs around his hips desperately wanting to suck in his cock. We rolled across the large bed, made love, and giddily drank chilled champagne. His kisses-rough or tender-were always cherished. He whispered that his slave had done well. We fucked throughout the afternoon and into the early evening. We lay spent and wallowed in our own passion. I locked my arms around my Captain and Master.

I became so used to the collar and rag that was my blindfold that I savored the moments. One night I wore a simple lavender chemise as I brushed my blond hair and prepared for another fuck session. I saw him in the mirror as he entered. Without turning around, I stood as he blinded my eyes with the rag. My heart raced as he secured the collar. I then turned to be leashed and kneel when I felt him place something warm over my shoulders. I felt one of my coats being buttoned, and then feet put into heels.

We were going out! Cuffs held my wrists behind my back. We went to the door and into the chill of the night The backseat upholstery's coolness made me shiver, along with my solitude and anticipation of our destination. The car started and we moved off.

Club noises assaulted. It sounded as though hordes of both sexes filled the bass-pounding space. Being seen this way in public was shocking! I blindly turned for protection into his shoulder, but then felt his strong arms hold me away. The blindfold was removed. Strobes crashed the senses. All around stood strange-looking people partying amongst themselves and laughing at me. I stumbled in my heels. I shivered in fright. I turned to him and saw that he held the dog collar. I stood as it was wrapped around my neck. Too quickly the leash was attached making any thought of escape now that much harder.

Lights flashed on the metal of a low mesh cage. One of the others opened a door at one end of the cage. He lead me by the leash toward it, then pulled me down to my knees. All around swarmed strange faces, laughing and pointing. My wrists were uncuffed as my head was pushed into the opening. The leash was attached to a bar running the top length of the rectangle. Someone pushed the rest of me inside the cage. I tried to run around in the small space just as the door was closed, locking me inside. I now was a caged animal!

Heart pounding, I scampered on hands and knees to the far end of the cage, but there was no opening there. I felt and tug near my hip and looked back. A hand-I could not tell if it was male or female-reached in and was pulling at my chemise. There was just enough room to reverse my direction inside of the cage, but not before I felt the thin material tear. Another hand from another side of the cage reached in and grabbed part of my top. Reversing direction again, I sweated and cursed as more of the silky material was ripped. The cement floor scraped my knees, but I didn't care. I felt warm club air over my legs and ass. A shoe slipped off. Another ripping sound tore at my top. I crawled away as I felt the air rush over one swinging breast. The sounds of the people above blended in with the loud music and pounding in my head. On hands and knees I scampered as fast as I could, but soon I wore only the collar and the attached leash.

He pulled me out by tugging on the leash, but his hand pressed down on the middle of my naked back. I saw only boots, heels, legs and pants gathered around. I followed the tug of the leash, crawling on all fours until stopping in front of a chair. Through tear-stained eyes I raised my head and saw the stocking legs of a woman seated in the chair. The legs parted. In front of me sat a dark triangle lightened only by flashes of strobes and a pink slit. I recoiled at the sight. Someone swacked my bare ass. I winced from the pain. The leash tugged me closer to the back of the chair cushion. I soon was between the two parted legs. I tried to turn my head and neck back to plead with him, but could not and saw only flashes upon the opened thighs of another and the yawning female sex.

I did not want to, but felt compelled to crawl closer, and then the leash tugged me to heel. It pulled me back to my feet. I was turned around, looked straight into his eyes and then felt his hand press on my breastbone. Daily exercise helped me keep that high school flexibility and I bent backward until my shoulders and the back of my head rested on the seat cushion. I looked straight into the other. My tongue ventured out. I felt hands touching my exposed tits. The pungent taste mixed with heat radiating from the velvety folds excited. I licked more. Hands smoothed over my taut tummy. Other hands fondled and pinched.

There was nothing to see, but my eyes widened nonetheless as a cock entered. It was not his-the one I was used to. I licked deeper and with more urgency, drinking in the other woman's flowing juices. My hips thrust upwards; my pussy sucked the strange new cock in more. The inner thighs on either side of my head closed, squeezing me. My tongue furiously worked. I felt the woman cum just as the stranger fucking me came. Glimpses of the club's flashing lights sparkled. The music and bodies throbbed. I sweated and throbbed along with them.

I am not sure when it was that night when my clit and nipples were pierced. All I do remember is that my Master was at my side when the golden rings were fitted in place. My hand tightly gripped his, especially with the pain of the piercings. I do remember his tender kiss and sweet whisper that his slave had done well. That much I am sure of, and that is all that I needed to know. My eyes were moist with pleasure.

Mornings from that night I awoke from my cushioned floor mat alongside his bed. The soreness from the piercings no longer bothered. I looked down at my body. The redness had diminished. Rustling the leash attaching me to the bed, I arose to my knees. He looked asleep. The rings on me were real, and so was he. None of it was a dream. I looked at what had become my …"black horse".

Just then one of his eyes opened and looked at his awakened slave. It did glow crimson, but this was no dream beast. This was my Master. And in a way that in itself was a dream.