Waking up with the familiar scream, my body instantly reacts to the dream, trying to stop myself, but I can’t. Walking down the stairs, I feel a sense of change: something in the dream has changed. I can feel my body stiffen up as the phone rings. The same voice, the same words, everything is the same. A vision shows Jackson standing there and I hear the sound of the gun. I see him falling to the floor. Just as I do, I scream, trying to wake up. I can’t wake up. I’m lying on the floor screaming, the image of Jackson bleeding in my mind yet I can’t get to him. Why has the dream changed? Why Jackson and why now? My body lurches upwards, still screaming. Jackson’s hands are shaking me as if he is trying to wake me. Marcus is standing at the door. My whole body is cold and shaking. If there is anything worse than the dream of me being shot and unable to wake, it is Jackson being shot and me being unable to wake from it. My body automatically goes to get out the bed and check on the

Grabbing my clothes, I get dressed quickly. I take the whip out of the drawer. Now, where do I hide it? Looking around, I have no idea. It has to be in here for my plan to work. Looking around, I decide the best option is going to be, as weird as it sounds, under the bed.  Nothing is under there and if I hide it at my side, right at the top near the bedside cabinet, it should stay unfound. All the toys we use in here are in his bedside cabinet.  Placing it there, I walk out, feeling happy with myself. Getting downstairs, I find Jackson sitting with the girls. The tree is in the corner, still wrapped and waiting to be put up. Food first. I need food. Walking to the kitchen, I begin cooking. I can’t help but wonder where Marcus is. I need to apologise for shouting at him this morning.  I hope he has not gone out. Finishing cooking, I begin to get plates out of the cupboard. Marcus walks in. My heart stops when I see him. Last night floods

Getting home, it is nearly four. Walking in, Jackson is cooking tea while the girls are sitting and playing in the playroom. Jackson turns and smiles as we walk through the door. “How did it go, Kitten?” Wiping his hands, he walks towards me, his arms wrapping around me as his lips press against mine. He seems happier. “Good, it helped as always, so thank you for making me realise I needed to speak to someone about everything.” Kissing him back, I smile. I need to now help him move on, help him realise it isn’t his fault and he needs to stop blaming himself. I would say Marcus as well but I don’t think that would be such a good idea. “Do me a favour, Kitten. Go tell Marcus I need him, and then can you sit with the girls while we talk?” Nodding, I walk upstairs. Reaching Marcus’ door, I stand looking at it. Do I knock? Walk in? Talk from this side. What do I do?  Raising my hand, I gently knock on the door. He doesn’t answer. Maybe I was t

Starting from where they left off with the tongue teasing my clit, my moans cause them to whip me. My wetness grows as his fingers begin moving faster, the whip hitting against my ass and breast harder and faster, and my body is ready to let go. I feel myself relaxed, ready to let the orgasm take over. “Yellow.” Saying the word, I remind myself not to finish yet. “Close to the edge.” My words are quiet as I pant. The fingers slow down and the whips get gentler, pulling me away from the edge. My moans get quieter. Once they are satisfied I won’t orgasm instantly, they start again, the fingers moving harder and faster, his tongue moving quicker, my screams getting louder and with each one, the whips start.  Moaning, I can’t help but wonder who is who in this whole scene but at the same time I don’t want to know.  The fingers slowly come to a stop. My hands are untied from the ceiling and my body is lifted, carried across the room. I know it is

Marcus is stood at the door. Looking at him, I smile. “Happy 70th, you old bugger.” I can’t help but laugh. He walks in, sitting on the edge of the bed. “Cheers, babes. You feeling better?” Nodding my head, I lie. “Enough of me. That drawer there, open it. Your present is in it. I will give you it now before everyone comes tonight.” He looks at me, shocked. Of course I bought him something.  He has something for Christmas as well but it can wait till Christmas. Getting up, he walks to the drawer. Opening it, taking out the small box, he stands and opens it. “Are you sure he is okay with this?” He turns to look at me. “I am not even sure how I feel about last night. If he was actually okay with it or not.” Looking at him, shocked, I can’t help but wonder the same to be honest. “You hate it, don’t you? You’re using Jackson as an excuse. It is so hideous. You’re right.” He starts laughing at my word