Bend Over Jessica

I don’t often write about my dreams, even though they are quite often BDSM orientated, given that I figure that you lovely people generally prefer to read about real-life play. But this one was so intense and carried on into such a lovely commuter-reverie when I got up for work and sustained me through another boring work day so nicely, I thought I’d share it with you.*

As I said last week, I’ve been rather worried about my mojo lately, and specifically, my lack of orgasms. But this dream was so lustful that I think it’s coming back! Yippee! The dream was in anticipation (I think) of a play day that He Who Must Be Obeyed was organising for the weekend, a Chateau F day with me and three other girls.

In my dream, I was at Chateau F. Chateau F is a rather secretive organisation where young ladies go to learn the esoteric arts of pleasing a man sexually in all ways possible. The discipline is strict and the training arduous, but a Chateau F girl is highly sought-after, because she is beautiful, compliant, obedient and very, very skilled.

In my dream though, I wasn’t one of the young ladies, who are put under the care of valets, who train them. I was a maid. I was there as a maid because I wasn’t considered good enough to be one of the young ladies, only to be trained as a maid for the Chateau. I was wearing the Chateau F maids uniform – a short, black silky uniform dress with a full skirt and a lacy petticoat, a tiny white apron and a saucy cap. My waist was cinched in very tightly by a black satin corset and I had fishnet stockings on and very high black heels, that I felt a little bit wobbly on.

Pierre, one of the valets, had another three young ladies coming to be trained and he had assigned me to assist him and look after them, as well as doing domestic duties. My first task was to serve them lunch and I realised quite quickly that there was a definite difference between me and the pampered Chateau F girls – as I poured one of them a glass of wine and a tiny drop spilt on the white tablecloth, Pierre called me to him and without blinking, slapped me sharply across the face, causing me to rock back on my heels in shock. One of the girls giggled and I blushed with shame. After lunch, in punishment, he made me bend over in the kitchen and roughly pulled down my knickers, thrust a plug up my bottom and commanded me to keep it in whilst doing my domestic duties. In my dream, I felt the plug in my bottom, pressing on my sensitive parts, exciting me, but I wasn’t to have any pleasure.

Later on, Pierre was training the girls and he called me to the dungeon to hold one of them down whilst he beat her. She struggled against my hands and at one point, sunk her pearly white teeth into the fleshy part of my finger, drawing drops of blood that in my dream was a vivid red. I squealed and released her – only for Pierre to box my ears until they rang, commanding me to hold her down, whatever she did or I would take her place. Later, when she had been thoroughly thrashed and was sobbing and contrite, Pierre decided she deserved pleasure and sitting her on a soft stool with her legs apart, thrust me onto my knees in front of her and commanded me to pleasure her with my tongue, holding my neck and thrusting my face forward against her wet pussy until she screamed with pleasure, grinding her soaking sex against my mouth. When I sat back, breathless, he ordered me into the corner, facing the wall and then, as I stood there miserably, longing for sexual release, I could hear him fucking her and her enthusiastic moans were like shards of glass. When they finished, I was sent for wine and then told to prepare dinner. In the kitchen, scraping vegetables, I longed to touch myself. But I didn’t dare…

When I woke up, the real life urge to pleasure myself was so strong, I ached from need. But I had to get up for work. And then all day, on my journey there and in work, I longed for release, like my maid had longed for release. But I couldn’t have it. And somehow, that made me feel hotter than hell. The sheer force of the denial was so intense, so vivid. And it reminded me of why I like to be submissive. Because sometimes, you really really want. But you don’t get.

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*Send any complaints to the usual email address, where I will not reply politely.