Ocean Of Need

38 Dreaming Of You

You sit me on the brown leather chair. I'm in my stockings and nothing else.

The collar is heavy as you wrap it around my neck. I hear the click of the leash as you attached me to you. This time I know what to do. I get down on all fours and wait for instruction.

'Good little pet, we're going on a special walk this time.'

You lead me to a door, I'm still on all fours as you walk me through it and into a big room. It's a member's only club, with velvet chairs, thick Moroccan carpets and huge floor length arched windows. They have heavy drapes, but the drapes are open and sunlight is streaming through them.

It takes my eyes a while to adjust and then I start to make out men and women sitting in the chairs, drinking whiskey and smoking cigarettes. The men and women are all wearing black tuxedos and they all have a pet like me at their feet.

You walk me in, take a seat and I sit obediently at your feet, while you talk to the other men and women in a language I don't understand and I lean against your legs. Sometimes I look at the floor and sometimes I look up at you. All the pets ignore each other. Too wrapped up in adoring their owners.

You pat my head sometimes and whisper to me, 'You're such a good pet.'

I lean further into your legs. Sometimes you lean down to me and hold your whiskey glass to my lips allowing me to drink.

After a while you say something to the other people in black suits, then lean down to me and say, 'Come.'

I follow you back through the door and you close it behind us, unclip the chain from my collar, lift me onto the bed and tuck the sheet around me. I watch you as you take your clothes off, hang them neatly on the brown leather chair, and then climb into bed with me.

You slide my hair behind my ear and say, 'I'll be back soon, Amber. Don't stop believing in me. Not for a minute. I'm fighting for my life out here and the only thing keeping me going is the chain between me and you, the one that keeps us attached to each other. There are dark forces at work, keep my name in the light of you, Amber. Promise me.'

I look at your face across the pillow and say, 'I'm here, Sir. I'm always here. I'll write my poems and wait for you.'

I slide down the bed, so that my mouth is at your cock, blow softly and watch you respond. Take you in my mouth and listen as you hum and murmur, stretching and moaning. The sounds building until you growl and hold my hair, pumping your seed into me as you say, 'You belong to me, Amber. Don't forget that. It's just you and me. Remember that always, and be careful...the vultures are circling.'

I wake with a start. Where am I? What's may name? What country am I in? I can't breathe. It's so dark that I can't see to get the light on. I twist wildly in the sheets looking for a shard of light to move towards and see a crack in the wall. I pull myself towards it, grab for it, feel fabric in my hand and pull it.

It's a curtain, and as I pull it open light illuminates the guest bedroom in Freya's house.

My current name is Amber. My real name is Elizabeth. I am in San Francisco. MaCallan is missing. Jameson is on the way, Everything will be ok. Nothing will ever be ok again.

You were so real in my dream. So real that I felt your breath on my face and tasted your seed in my mouth. You said it was just me and you. You said it so many times in the days before you left. Why did you say that if you were planning on leaving?

Were you planning on leaving, or did someone make you?