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                 K R I S T E N' S    C O L L E C T I O N


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Archive name: Dream.txt
Authors name: Caesar
Story Title : Dream #1

     ==============================================================
      Caesar writes several fantasy tales by request from Samantha.
      Samantha is the alias of another girl friend(e-mail) - these 
      are erotic fantasies and attempts at romance, she _loved_ 
      the stories.  :-) Copyright (c) 1991
     ===============================================================


		"There was a young parson of Eltham,	
		Who seldom fucked whores, but oft felt 'em.
			In the lanes he would linger,
			And play at stick finger,
		'Twas on the way home that he smelt 'em."
			-The Pearl No. 2




      My regiment had fought and died those days in early July, 1944.
      Yet when we finally entered Caen, tired half-starved people
      began to cheer.  Not only that, a few brazen and obviously
      relieved civilians ventured forth and embraced and gave us
      hastily picked flowers.  Many civilians were weeping, more were
      dazed from the fury of the fighting.  I felt very inadequate,
      most of the rubble that was left of the city, had been massed
      bombed only the night before by the Allied airforce.  The few
      men under my command gave their share of cigarettes and rations
      of food to the happy people.  One young lad even handed me the
      head off a home made doll, I hadn't the heart to return it.

      Our orders had come early that morning of the 9th, the Maquis,
      the French Resistance were leading us to the objective.  The
      city offices.  It was called "Operation Goodwood", or by us
      Canadians, "Operation Atlantic".  The "Operation" seemed a very
      fancy word, in my little corner of the battle, I was given
      objectives.  And every one I fought very hard for, we took.  Yet
      as I walked through the rubble of the streets, looking upon the
      thousands of refugees and huddled persons in dark corners and
      under debris.  My heart went out to them, was all this
      destruction worth the lives that was taken.  Sure the allies had
      dropped leaflets to warn the city that it was about to be
      bombed, but even as I walk down the streets and across mounds
      that were once buildings, I often saw ugly grey bloated bodies.
      Once we passed an emergency hospital, set up in a monks'
      refectory, bodies were pilled outside it with little dignity,
      inside the dim and chaotic interior could just be made out.  I
      was in hell!

      Thankfully, the distance took little time.  I stood behind a
      corner of a windowless building and followed the pointing finger
      of the Maquis guide.  High in up in the building could just be
      seen the shadow of crouched figure, a barrel sticking out the
      door.  A sniper!  And no doubt, not alone.  Unfortunately, most
      of the Division was sent to the suburbs were large pockets of
      German resistance held on.  The average, sane infantryman hated
      door-to-door fighting.  It was a dangerous, hellious type of
      fighting.  So many obstacles, and around every corner could be
      a sniper or a company of men just waiting to kill.  Damn I
      wished we had the armour that was promised us by the Brigade
      Commander.

      I had five men left in my section, and sent two around to the
      right flank.  I ordered two to wait and give cover fire as
      needed, along with our resistance friend who was more than happy
      with the prospect of killing Germans with his beat up Sten gun.
      Myself and Corporal Dickson would enter the building.

      As soon as the two of us began to dart across the clearing I
      knew it was a mistake.  I felt then heard the shots only when we
      were half way through the yard.  I was grazed by two bullets,
      yet finally shot through the front door with barely a scratch.
      Looking behind me, I saw Corporal Dickson laying upon the
      cobblestones, dead.  My men were returning fire, yet I held
      little faith in that .

      I was alone, with an objective ahead of me.  Yet a large part of
      me wanted to curl up into a ball and hide away.  Thankfully my
      duty and the job held my sanity together.  Through several messy
      rooms did I go.  Moving double time, I quickly found a stair
      going up.  That was when I got lost!  The rooms became darker,
      the rooms tidier, yet still unclean.  My body was exhausted,
      with my kit strapped to my back and the cumbersome rifle in my
      hands I soon had too stop to catch my breath.  Somewhere above
      me someone was still firing.  I had to get the sniper, it was
      either him or me.

      As I stood catching my breath, I suddenly heard a couple of
      voices, speaking German, I caught only a word here and their,
      "mischbrot", "wurstchen", "kase".  If I remember correctly, they
      were talking about food.  Yet footsteps were coming closer.
      Frantically, I quickly ran into the suite of rooms I was
      standing next to.  I found a locked door and effortlessly
      smashed through it.  I stood facing the door I just came
      through, the broken lock hanging limply.  I followed the sound
      of the voices as they went passed the place I had been standing.
      I heard them going up, their jack boots making harsh noises
      against the tile and wooden floors.

      Taking a breath I was about to continue with my assignment.
      Then I heard something, more of a whimper.  I spun around, my
      rife pointing towards the sound.  I saw nothing but a large desk
      and several chairs and bookcases.  But something had to be
      there!

      Slowly with soft step, I came around the edge of the desk.  My
      rifle pointing towards the hole under and behind the desk, the
      only logical place for a person to be.  I hoped it was just a
      dog, or perhaps another type of animal that had crawled into
      that small hole.  Yet I saw it!  A shape!  A huddled, dirty
      woman lay in the fetal position, her face hidden from me.  What
      the hell was I to do?  I bent down my face coming closer to the
      desk opening.  She was shivering, perhaps in the damp morning
      air, or from fear.  The woman only wore a thin summer dress and
      heels.  What was she doing here?

      With a gentle hand I placed my palm upon her arm hoping I could
      calm her.  Here was a human being, someone that had been
      tormented by the German occupation and by the Allied air
      strikes, how did I imagine I could calm her.  I was cover in
      combat gear, not a very calming sight I'm sure.  I felt her warm
      soft skin and she stopped shivering.

      "Mlle, are you all right?"  I asked, my voice barely a whisper.
      I felt sick, I did not want to be there in that dirty room, with
      enemies only a few feet away, while I tried to comfort a young
      lady.

      She spoke one word before looking up, "ministre?"  I saw her
      face slowly look out from behind the crock of her arm.  I saw
      her pretty round face, large scared eyes, full lips, small nose.
      She was very pretty.  The woman asked me a question, and I could
      not understand a word.  So I improvised, and told her my name,
      Caesar, or rather my nickname.  She told me hers, yet I could
      not pronounce the French version so I shortened it to Sam.

      Sam took her hands and arms from her face, sitting up as much as
      that large desk allowed.  Then she smiled at me!  So you may
      ask?  Well, after the deaths of friends and the agony of
      victory, it was almost too much. I saw her looking at my trouble
      faced, and she began to cry.  No I didn't cry, but I still felt
      the tears running down my cheeks.  One of her hands reached out
      daintily and wiped the tear from my face.

      I sat upon the floor next to the opening of the desk, she knelt
      next to me.  With a motherly compassion, she bent forward and
      kissed my wet cheek, her other hand holding my face steady.
      God, I was confused, was I not supposed to be the victor, the
      knight in shining armour?  Yet here was this tiny attractive
      woman who was stronger than I, comforting me.  Upon the rest of
      my emotions I felt shame.

      Sam placed her cheek next to mine, holding me.  When I finally
      got hold of myself, I realized she held me in a death grip.  She
      was not going to let go.  I turned my face towards her, our eyes
      only six inches apart.  "Please Mlle, I have to go.  You must
      understand, people are depending on me!"  She closed her eyes
      and kissed me.  This time upon the lips, very softly and with
      great amount of emotion.  It was too much upon my trouble soul,
      and I returned the unknown woman's kiss.  Sam was patient with
      my hungry sadness.  I forced her lips open with my own.   My
      tongue sliding into her mouth, finally coming in contact with
      hers.  My hand grasped her flimsy dress and I tore the remaining
      buttons off the front, exposing her undergarments.  I was hungry
      for passion, for love.  Yet for several years all I had known
      was pain and death.  The softness of a woman was almost
      forgotten upon me, certainly how to touch a lady was alien was.

      I stopped, thankfully before I had begun to rape her, my mind
      finally taking control of my emotions.  Sam surprised me, she
      looked me straight in the eye with even more emotion and
      compassion.  She took her hands off me and began to disrobe.
      Off came the ripped dress, her shoulders exposed.  It hung about
      its cord around her waist.  Then she reached behind her and
      undid the clasp for her bra, the undergarment fell to the floor
      next to both of us.

      Sam knelt, her back straight, looking right at me.  I unashamed,
      looked at her exposed skin.  I fell for that unknown French
      woman, I could see the imperfections of her flesh, but desired
      all.  She was a beautiful woman who had lived through years of
      hell, why did she offer me this gift?  I have never known.

      Slowly she grasped my free hand and brought it to her chest, my
      large palm cupping the firm roundness of her breast.  Her nipple
      began to harden under my rough hand, reminding me of the of love
      I had lost because of this war.  I was almost ran out of their
      at that moment, yet only her eyes held me in place.  She
      withdrew her hand from mine, and I felt her fumble with the
      front of my clothing.  My webbing was undone, then the buttons
      of my trousers and lower jacket.  I was conscious of my unwashed
      body, and almost began to laugh.  To be worried about such a
      thing sitting here in this ransacked building with Germans a
      floor above me, and both of our bodies had not seen a bath for
      many a week.  I realized, finally, that the simple pleasures of
      the flesh was not the reason that Sam was doing this.  Perhaps,
      like me, she needed to feel the closeness of another human, even
      with the stench of war covering us.

      A warm small hand held my hardness, forced it passed my boxer
      shorts to point up out of my dishevelled clothing.  I don't
      remember a moment when I had been more excited, or felt closer
      to any person in my life.  With anxious and deliberate movements
      she knelt up then swung a knee and leg over my lap.  Sam moved
      her hanging skirt from between her legs and reached up with one
      hand to move her undergarments aside.  Her other hand held my
      shoulder steadying herself, while her eyes never left mine.

      During that time, I had placed both hands upon her full breasts.
      I marvelled in the warm softness of woman, and wanted more.  Yet
      this time I was patient.

      Sam sighed very loudly, just as I felt her warm wetness envelope
      me.  She sat upon my lap, locked together by more than sex.
      She cupped her breasts in her hands, pointing that perfect
      areola towards my salivating lips.  I tasted her skin, reviling
      in the hardness beneath my tongue.  I alternated between the
      globes, almost not noticing her slow movements up and down upon
      my shaft.

      Time went slowly, our movements more urgent.  My lips had left
      her breasts and found her hungry mouth.  Our tongues danced to
      the beat of our joining.  I marvelled at her wetness, wanted to
      see it, yet her skirt hid everything.  The moisture contained
      their was making erotic wet noises.  She began to moan deep down
      in her throat and I forced my tongue into her mouth to silence
      her in the most polite way I knew how.  She accepted my gift.

      Before I realized what was going on, Sam froze, with only the
      unknown joined portions quivering and spasming delightfully upon
      me.  I spent a great tribute to this unknown woman, flooding her
      with my seed.  She squealed with pleasure, feeling the warm
      liquid hit deep inside her, filling her up.  Her hips wiggled
      wonderfully, bringing a groan from my lips.

      It was over.

      Sam lay over me, spent as I.  Slowly the sounds that surrounded
      us began to reach me.  I could hear the sounds of treads, the
      tanks that had been promised to my section.  I had to leave this
      woman, yet that was the hardest thing I had yet to do in my
      short years.  I gently moved her off me, and told her to stay
      under the desk.  When it was over I would return, what then, I
      don't know?

      I stood ready, my soul finally cured of its afflictions.  Yet
      again, it almost broke.  The look in her eyes as I was only
      steps away from the door to this room was enough to fill my
      heart with foreboding.  I must do my duty, if not for my
      commanders then for her.  I would return!

      Swiftly without looking back I left her, soon finding the stairs
      going up.  Silently I reached the top, through the rubble I saw
      five Germans smoking and laughing.  One was on watch looking out
      the large window.  I could not understand what they said, yet I
      didn't care.  I blamed them for causing Sam her pain, I wanted
      to hurt them.  Taking careful aim, I shot two before the others
      even reacted.  My position upon the stair, looking over the edge
      of the floor, gave me good cover.  And I was able to wound
      another soldier.   Then the wall behind the remaining Germans
      blew wards, killing them instantly and showering me with debris.
      One hit me very hard and I as knocked senseless.

      Confusion was what I awoke to, around me a sea of brown and
      green uniforms.  A doctor knelt next to my prone body, examining
      my head wound.  "A scratch really, though head wounds do bleed
      a lot."  He quickly left me to attend another fallen comrade.
      In only hours I was again with my section, as they sat with the
      tank crew in front of that building I knew so well.  With barely
      a glance at my men I entered the cleared building, finding
      nothing.

      Sam was gone!

                                -*-


      Dream #2
      ========
      by Caesar(92)
      (upon request from Samantha)
      
      I do have limits!  I mean I am a crook, sure, but that does not
      mean I would do many other illegal activities.  Even thieves
      have a code of honour, if you will.  What am I talking about? 
      
      Well, I had a job to do.  My business partner would case out a
      place, usually posing as a salesman or a meter reader, and it
      was my job to go in and empty the joint.  Easy!  And it usually
      is, except for this one time.  Now I don't carry a gun, but just
      a knife for cutting away cords, or jimmying stuck cabinets.  So
      I always try to B&E while the occupants are not home.  I was
      already in the house, a normal middle-class dwelling which was
      chosen for my exploits because of the amount of toys. 
      Electronic toys.  Excellent turn-over value.  This job would
      bring me personally over a thousand bucks! 
      
      Yet this job was not so easy!  
      
      There was someone in the house.  A temptation that would perhaps
      have beguiled a less ethical man.  A totally unforeseen disaster
      could happen if I didn't get out very quick.  I was upstairs
      going through the main bedrooms drawers and closets and had
      already collected several pieces of jewelry. The sound from
      downstairs was unmistaken, a woman was crying!  I almost shit my
      drawers, my partner had assured me the place was empty, the
      family had left for the evening.    I suddenly pictured myself
      cuffed in the back seat of a police cruiser, not a vision  I
      wanted fulfilled.  
      
      To get out of the house, I had to go back downstairs.  I may be
      a thief but that doesn't mean I can climb!  Nor did I bring
      rope.  Damn, damn, damn, damn!
      
      Moving as fast as I could while still stepping softly I crept
      downstairs.  I saw a flickering light that was not there when I
      entered the house.  It was the fireplace in the large living
      room that was giving that eerie red glow.  It certainly was not
      there when I had left, perhaps someone returned home without my
      hearing.  Doubtful but possible.   
      
      I still stood on the stairs but could see into the large
      immaculate living room.  A person lay upon the floor, the sound
      of her crying louder.  She was not crying loudly, but weeping to
      herself, yet in this quiet house the sound was very deafening. 
      My muscles shook with fear, my hands were sweaty and my teeth
      ground together.  
      
      Finally I reached the bottom of the stairs and snuck another
      peek at the woman before I would exit from the front door and
      run like hell.  I saw an attractive small woman, dressed very
      nicely, laying upon the floor facing the fire.  From my angle I
      could see the tears upon her cheeks, and her sad round face.  My
      heart went out to her, but what could I do?  If she saw me, off
      to the big house for sure!  I creeped to the door of the living
      room and watched her for a bit more. If she was OK, then I would
      leave.  In that light I could see everything, though with a
      reddish glow, even the wine glass half-filled sitting next to
      her.  I studied the profile of the lady.  And that was what she
      was - a lady; older perhaps early thirties, she had that cuddly
      appearance that attracted me, she wore professional conservative
      clothing yet still very feminine, short blond hair that radiated
      the irregular light.  
      
      It was time to leave.  I'm not sure how long I stood there, but
      it had to be about ten minutes.  Karma I expect.  When I was
      about to turn and go, I realized she was looking right at me!  
      
      Her eyes wide in surprise, I didn't see fear, she stared
      directly into mine.  I realized I should have put on a mask or
      bellacaluva when I heard someone in the house.  "I..I won't hurt
      you."  I realized I must look fearful, black pants and shirt,
      black leather gloves and runners, and a duffle bag under an arm. 
      One of her dainty hands came up and wiped a cheek dry.  "I'm
      sorry for everything...I will leave now..." 
      
      I stepped back one pace then froze upon hearing her voice. 
      "Don't go!"  A voice filled with desperation and surprise.  Yet
      surprisingly still no fear.  I would have still turned tail and
      run if not for those two words.  Why would she ask me to stay? 
      Were the police on their way already?  Perhaps she had a gun
      trained upon me?  I froze in fear and astonishment.
      
      I turned back in time to see her wipe the other cheek dry.  She
      mumbled, "I'm sorry..."  She surprised me again?  Was I not the
      intruder, the crook, the thief?  It was obvious she did not fear
      me.  "My name is Samantha," she stood awkwardly since her skirt
      hindered the movement, "please come in and sit down."  She
      motioned towards a large comfortable couch.  I was struck
      silent, but followed mutely her commands.  I sat looking into
      her pretty face, and saw her smile.  A happy, honest and earnest
      smile, filled with trust and something else?  From my seat I
      could smell her perfume, I know not the name but it filled my
      head and caused my heart to flutter.  
      
      Samantha took a seat next to me, about a foot distant, easily
      within arms distance.  Her soft eyes met mine and I melted in
      her look.  Perhaps she was stalling for the cops, yet something
      in the ladies manner suggested I was wrong.  She asked quietly,
      politely, "What is your name?"  
      
      I didn't want to tell her the truth, it could be used against me
      in a court of law.  So I gave her my nickname, the one used by
      my business acquaintances, "Caesar."  She reached out and took
      my hand held it firmly in her warm grasp.  I of course let her,
      yet knew at any moment I could overpower this small woman and
      leave.  But who was in power here?  At that moment I
      contemplated forcing myself upon her.  And I quickly discarded
      the notion, the lady was above that, even above me.  And as I
      have said, I do have limits.  One of those is that I will steal,
      but never hurt a person intentionally or otherwise.  "I should
      go!"  Indeed I should!
      
      She held me more firmly, "No please stay!"  I knew she would let
      go if I insisted.  I didn't.  Samantha hung her head, looking
      down at her lap, almost in shame.  To my distress her smile was
      gone.  "I want you to make love to me."  So quiet I'm sure I
      must have mistaken her words.  After several seconds of silence,
      she looked up into my eyes, her look hard.  "Here on the floor,
      make love to me here."  I looked down at the large fur rug,
      perhaps a polar bear.  Then let my eyes wander over the older
      woman's form, she lifted her chin and waited for my inspection
      to end.  
      
      Of course I wanted her, I was a young male after all.  But I was
      crude, used to the streets, the women of he gutter.  What did I
      know about "making love", in my world we called it sex or just
      f%$*ing!  
      
      Yet in the end I pulled my hand from hers and placed it upon her
      right bosom.  Was their any doubt reader?  Samantha closed her
      eyes and sighed deeply.  Soon both hands were gently caressing
      and fondling the round soft breasts.  She wore a silk pearl
      colored blouse, loose, and a brassier underneath.  And yet her
      nipples were very visible, they also poked into my palm exciting
      me beyond her earlier words.  Both hands trembled when I placed
      them upon her lap, and began to worm then up her taunt skirt. 
      Though my gaze was fixed to the placement of my hands, I saw out
      the corner of my eye as she began to slowly unbutton her blouse.
      
      Nirvana, the lady wore stockings!  The type with garters and all
      the fixings.  I felt the heat of her bare upper thigh as the
      tips of my fingers reached skin.  Now I knew even if the police
      were outside, I would not care.  For this moment was foremost in
      my mind.  Nothing else mattered.  
      
      I pulled my hands out from the tight confines of her skirt and
      began to help her with the blouse.  Soon it was off, thrown upon
      the floor behind the couch.  Her bra was unclasped from the
      front, and her breasts moved with delight to be unconfined.  My
      mouth watered!  She stood up before me, her hands reaching
      behind her to undo the white skirt, it fell to the floor very
      quickly.  Her hands reached for  her garter belt but I
      intercepted her and nodded no.  I wanted her to keep the white
      stockings on, they pleasured my visual senses immensely. 
      Samantha smiled knowingly and hooked a thumb under the corners
      of her panties.  Again I stopped her.  
      
      She looked down at me in surprise as I bent forward and planted
      a kiss upon her white silk undergarment.  I could taste her
      moist pleasure soaking the silk, the smell  intoxicating, the
      heat overpowering.  My head swam.  She groaned as my lips
      touched her, almost begging with that one sound for another. 
      Again my lips touch the fine fabric, and this time I noticed the
      discoloration from it being wet.  Samantha's small hands
      intertwined in my hair and held my head, she wanted more.  Yet
      so did I.  
      
      Using my teeth, I pulled the left side of the panty down to mid-
      hip.  I immediately moved to the other side, and pulled it down. 
      Moving to the center, my nose already within a bush so fine and
      thick that I am amazed I found the strength to continue.  My
      teeth pulled her panties to her lower thighs, where they fell
      promptly to her knees.  I had noticed a length of her excitement
      trail behind the panties which finally broke after a length. 
      This lady did indeed want a lowly man like myself!  She now
      stood clothed the way I most desired her, she was beautiful!
      
      "Lay upon your carpet Samantha."  An order, yet it brought a
      huge smile to her face and prompt response.  She lay upon her
      back, her legs slightly spread, her knees bent, her hands
      running up and down her thighs and across her stomach.  Her eyes
      followed me intently, waiting!
      
      I stood over her, my hands quickly undoing my shirt, then my
      shoes and my pants.  I saw one of her hands cup a breast and I
      slowed down forcing her to wait.  As I inched my pants down my
      long legs, bending over so she had not seem my sex yet, I also
      watched her.  The lady was wiggling her bottom in her
      impatience, her hand upon her breast was molding it to her
      desires, the other was scratching with nails upon those warm
      soft thighs and stockings.  I stood straight!
      
      Of course the preceding events had excited me and my pole was at
      its height.  Her gasp of thankful pleasure very loud, as I took
      two steps and stood over her prone body, my legs straddling her
      waist.  Samantha looked straight up into my charms, then quickly
      stole a glance at my face, and back down.  I stoked my throbbing
      member gently, mostly for effect.  She lifted her back off the
      rug and rolled to either side, hungry for what was next.  The
      reddish glow illuminated us devilishly.  I thought the she
      looked positively delightful and very yummy.  Yet I held off for
      perhaps a moment, teasing both of us.
      
      Taking my time I slowly ended up kneeling between her thighs
      which she had spread to accommodate me.  Soon I was on all
      fours, my hands to either side of her chest.  With minute
      precision my object of desire engulfed my raging stallion within
      its wet folds.  I sank to the hilt, gasping in the initial
      pleasure.  Samantha's hand came up, one to hold the back of my
      neck, the other to grasp my tight buttock.  She set the rhythm
      for our coupling.  
      
      I know not if I was making love, but I tried, both for her sake
      and mine.  It was the most intense and pleasurable experience in
      my twenty years.  For this I would go to jail for an uncountable
      period.  
      
      The speed of our love was slow, our sex joining softly, the tip
      of my pole exiting her confines before again entering.  Again
      and again.  In all truthfulness I know not how long we continued
      in this fashion, nor did I care.  At one point, I arched my back
      and tasted upon the hard little buds of her nipples. The taste
      intoxicating, and very stimulating.  There would not be much
      longer for my explosion, I was amazed that I lasted this long
      with the fine lady.  When she lifted her stocking covered legs
      and wrapped them around my waist, that was too much!  Both her
      arms encircled my head and neck, then she began to move below
      me.  Faster with every thrust, we accelerated desperately, with
      almost magic.  I believe I held her body completely as she
      lifted herself off the ground and moved in time to me.  
      
      I was the first to finish.  My orgasm shot through me like a
      bolt of energy that drained me very quickly.  I barely even
      noticed that she had screamed out and began to thrash and buckle
      beneath me.  Samantha clung to me in passion while both of our
      bodies went through a simultaneous passion release.  Both of our
      muscles quivered in delight and exhaustion as we fell to the
      ground, neither of us with a reserve of energy left.  
      
      The fire crackled and snapped lazily, inciting me to fall asleep
      within my new lovers arms, both still locked by our tired
      organs. I held her body completely as she lifted herself off the
      ground and moved in time to me.  
      
      I was the first to finish.  My orgasm shot through me like a
      bolt of energy that drained me very quickly.  I barely even
      noticed that she had almost screamed out and began to thrash and
      buckle beneath me.  Samantha clung to me in passion while both
      of our bodies went through a simultaneous passion release.  Our
      muscles quivered in delight and exhaustion as we fell to the
      ground, neither of us with a reserve of energy left.  
      
      The fire crackled and snapped lazily, inciting me to fall asleep
      within my new lovers arms, both still locked by our tired
      bodies.  
      The remaining narrative of this story is not very interesting -
      I left the lady sleeping beautifully upon that large white fur
      rug, her body still glistening by the flickering of the dying
      firelight.  I stole away and never saw her again.  But I still
      wonder?!
      
                               -*-

     Dream #3
     ========
     by Caesar(92)
     (upon request from Samantha)
     
     My desires do run a little different than what some
     consider "normal".  Yet I'm not alone, a large
     underground full of people are into my own kink.  Normal,
     everyday people.  With middle-class families and kids,
     yet their desires do also run very slanted.
     
     Samantha was such a person.  Her life was what I would
     call "regular", at least the little I knew about it.  To
     tell the truth I'm not even sure if Samantha is her real
     name?  I had only met her upon the busy rush-hour transit
     an hour ago.  And here she was standing in my basement.
     
     With amusement I watched her look around at the toys and
     articles of my kink.  I watched her moist tongue lick
     along her already moist lips, a very arousing sight.  Her
     hands kept clenching and unclenching her briefcase, which
     was also crossed before her as a if it was a shield.  I
     enjoyed her nervousness and uncertainty.  It was my game. 
     Samantha was dressed very business-like, yet I had no
     idea what she did, nor did I care.  Tonight would be for
     pleasure not business.
     
     "I don't think I could do this."  She said, her eyes
     unable to come off one wall, which I called the "dungeon"
     side.  I gave no reaction nor did I deny her exit to my
     hideaway.  The ground rules were already set before she
     had stepped into my house.  She could leave any time, and
     I will not object or stop her.  But while she was down in
     my basement she was mine!  
     
     We were strangers, I assumed her desires were stronger
     than her common sense about strange men on transit
     trains.  Why else would she be here?  Many of my new
     women were exactly like her.  Samantha was a lost flower
     in the wind and I am about to grasp her into my firm
     grasp.
     
     If you had not guessed it by now, I am a dominate(dom)
     and Samantha was to be my current submissive(sub).  My
     "slave" if you will!
     
     I gave her time to look around.  Knowing, that waiting
     for my first order to be given was harder than the actual
     execution.  Not for all, of course, but the unknown sub
     was very nervous.  Action may or may not cure that.  Did
     she have a husband at home?  Perhaps even waiting for
     her?  I didn't care.
     
     "Take your clothes off Samantha."  A simple statement,
     spoken quietly and an air of non-compromise.  The sub
     took a deep breath then dropped her briefcase to the
     floor at her feet.  She turned around towards me and
     brought both hands to her throat to unclasp the broach
     pinned there.  
     
     The game was afoot!
     
     I leaned back against a wooden work horse, sanded down
     for special uses, and openly admired the small woman. 
     The one piece dress took very little time to fall to the
     floor around her ankles.  Her shoes, hose, bra and
     panties followed.  She finally stood straight determined
     to continue with the game, daring me to look upon her
     nakedness.  
     
     "Let your hair down and take your earrings out."  A
     little surprised she pulled out the gold studs, the hair
     clasp also was undone very quickly.  
     
     Few people can stand naked in a warm damp dungeon and not
     feel just a little nervous especially with a stranger
     watching minutely.  I let the silence hang for almost
     three minutes, while I scrutinized her body.  The hard
     nipples, the full bush between her legs were
     complimentary in terms of what was to come next.  She was
     a tiny woman, with small round face and a cute small
     nose.  The smile she wore when she first came down my
     stairs was gone, now she bit the bottom of her lip.  
     
     "Turn slowly," she followed my directions, and I saw her
     small tummy, her round buttocks, "stop."  Her back was
     facing me.  I was presented with what I considered one of
     the most attractive features upon a woman.  The buttocks
     and legs.  Both of which were very attractive upon this
     lady.  
     
     I considered asking her to bend over to allow me a formal
     view, but dropped it when she began to speak.  "I don't
     w..."  
     
     I snapped, "Quiet!"  After a deep sigh I explained, "as
     a slave you don't speak without permission.  Do you
     understand?"
     
     "Yes."  Her voice was quivering slightly.  Excellent!
     
     "You will address me by my the name Caesar.  Again do you
     understand?"
     
     "Yes Caesar!"  She sounded determined.  This was the part
     of my program where a woman will have second thoughts and
     leave.  I half-expected this early thirtyish woman to do
     just that.  She had a strong will, but as a dom I know
     they were also the most fun to break.
     
     I again appraised her backside for a full five minutes,
     until her body was trembling beyond control.  Her torso
     was shivering as if chilled.  What to do with this lady? 
     
     
     "In front of you slave is a rack, take out the leather
     stick with the straps attached to the end."  She walked
     over and returned, her eyes wide and looking upon the
     horrifying object.  Samantha was an intelligent woman,
     she knew what the object was for.  
     
     She stood in front of me and I took the cat from her
     hand.  "Don't move."  Still leaning against the horse I
     pressed the hard tip of the cat into her body.  The butt
     rubbed along the round soft cheek to her chin.  Then down
     to her chest and up the firmness of her breast.  I took
     my time with everything, knowing the pleasure for both of
     us will be easily compounded the longer we waited.  She
     shivered very violently as the hard end flicked her tight
     hard nipple.  I didn't tarry but continued down her
     smooth white skin to her belly button.  Again I left that
     area and ventured to her waist and hip, running up and
     down the marvellous contour.  The butt ran along her skin
     to her knee where it quickly slide to the inside of her
     leg.  I watched her face as the end of the handle ran up
     along the inside of her thigh, the extremely soft and
     inviting skin shivering against the hard leather. 
     Samantha bite the bottom of her lip, her eyes closed
     awaiting the inevitable.  I didn't press it to her sex,
     instead I flicked her thick curly hair with it.  Only for
     a second, let her have a taste and she will come back for
     more.
     
     "Turn around slave."  She did, her muscles quivering so
     much that it seemed difficult for her to follow my
     instructions.  
     
     Very gently I placed my palm upon her round right buttock
     that faced towards me.  "You are a very attractive lady
     Samantha,"  she of course didn't say anything, my hand
     working up into the crack of her bottom, "yes, you are a
     very exciting slave."
     
     "Thank you Caesar."  She had added the perfect amount of
     humility to her sta