Last night, I had the most intense, filthy dream that left me waking up absolutely drenched and throbbing with need. OMFG, I’m still so horny just thinking about it!
It started at this wild party, drinks flowing freely, music pulsing, my body moving on the dance floor, feeling sexy and alive, lost in the heat of the moment.
Then everything blurred, went black, my god I had took way to many shots. The next thing I knew, I was coming to in the middle of the woods, completely naked on a grimy, stained mattress surrounded by trash and leaves. My entire body was covered in intricate henna art, swirling patterns all over my skin, my tits, my thighs, even curling around my pussy lips. I had no memory of how it got there, but it looked so deliberate, so artistic... and so degrading.
I started to take stock of myself, my heart pounding. I was sore everywhere, aches deep in my muscles, but especially between my legs. My inner thighs were bruised, tender to the touch, marked with fingerprints and red welts. When I reached down to my pussy, it was swollen, bruised, puffy... and inside, it was filled with thick, gooey cum. So much of it, leaking out slowly as I probed, sticky and warm, mixed with my own juices. Evidence of who knows how many men.
The realization hit me like a wave: I’d gotten to drunk at the party, taken out here to these woods, used relentlessly on this dirty mattress by stranger after stranger, fucked raw and filled, then just left there like discarded trash. My clothes were gone, vanished. Panic surged through me, shame, fear, but underneath it all, this dark, twisted heat building in my core.
I spotted my handbag nearby, miraculously untouched. Hands shaking, I grabbed my phone and called my Master. He answered right away, and he was there so fast, pulling up in his car like he sensed my desperation.
The moment he stepped out and saw me, standing there naked in the dim light, destroyed and messy, body painted with henna, covered in bruises and dried cum, pussy still dripping, he knew exactly what his little whore needed. His eyes darkened with that primal hunger, and without a word, he unzipped, pulling out his thick, bulging cock, already rock hard.
He grabbed me roughly, threw me back down onto that filthy mattress. I landed on my back at first, but he flipped me over onto my belly in one swift move, my face pressed into the dirt-streaked fabric that smelled of earth and old sex. “You shameful little whore,” he growled, his voice low and commanding. “Out here in the woods, abused and used up like a cheap fucktoy, look at you, bruised and full of stranger cum. This pussy was made for it, wasn’t it?”
I whimpered, trying to resist at first, it hurt, my swollen hole so tender and sore, but he pinned me down harder, one strong hand pushing my face deeper into the mattress, muffling my cries. With his other hand, he spread my ass cheeks, lined up his massive dick, and rammed it into my abused, already-lubed pussy in one brutal thrust.
OMFG, the pain mixed with pleasure was overwhelming. He didn’t hold back, pounding me mercilessly, using my body like he owned it, because he does. Each slam drove deep, stirring up all that gooey mess inside me, making obscene wet sounds as he reclaimed what was his. “That’s it, take Daddy’s cock, you dirty slut,” he grunted. “All those men had their fun ruining you... now I’m going to remind you who you really belong to.”
I melted into it, submission flooding me. The soreness turned to fire, my body betraying me, clenching around him greedily even as tears pricked my eyes. He fucked me harder, rougher, my tits scraping against the dirty mattress, henna smearing with sweat and grime. I felt so free, so utterly used, first by unknowns in the dark, now by my Master in the cold woods light.
He didn’t last long in that frenzy, but when he came, it was explosive, pumping rope after thick rope deep inside, claiming me over all the others, his alpha load flooding my bruised womb. I felt every pulsation, every hot spurt, and it pushed me over the edge too, my orgasm ripping through me in waves.
Right then, in the height of it all... I woke up.
OMG, I bolted awake in my bed, heart racing, pussy absolutely soaked, thighs slick, sheets wet beneath me. I’m still here now, touching myself as I write this, horny as fuck, aching for it to be real.
What a crazy, filthy dream! 
It’s like my deepest, darkest fantasies bubbling up, being taken without control, used and discarded, then reclaimed so possessively by my Master. I can’t stop thinking about it... maybe it’s a sign. xx
My afterthoughts:
There’s something so intoxicating about that total loss of control, waking up marked and filled, evidence of being nothing but a hole for men’s pleasure. And then my Master seeing me at my most broken and degraded, yet wanting me even more, using me harder to make me his again. It’s raw, shameful, and perfect. A dream I’ll replay in my mind forever, smiling at how it makes my body react even now.