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Cara could feel the cool tip of the plastic cock as it pressed against the heat of her pussy. She didn’t move a muscle, just waited obediently. She’d never been fucked by a strapon and her heart was racing from the nervous excitement. “Are you ok, love?” the woman’s voice asked firmly from behind her.“Y-y-yes, I think so,” Cara’s voice stammered as she answered. “Good, then we shall proceed.” On all fours, Cara turned to look behind. Her eyes panned but, before she could make out her lovers face, she felt the pop. Her head dropped and her mouth gaped open as the lady cock emphatically impaled her soft, swollen pussy. She wasn’t sure if she liked the pressure pushing into her but there was little she could do about that now. She secured her grip on the sheets and felt fingernails dig into her ass while the toy was slowly being pulled back. She braced as the tip drew close to her opening before forcefully being driven back in. Cara thought back to what was said before they started. ‘I’m here to help you explore your desires, Cara. To feel what it’s like to have someone in control, doing things to you that you don’t think you want done. But, remember love, once you release your inhibitions, you will only experience the gift of true pleasure. Trust me.’ The last part now rang through her head as her cunt was being pounded from behind. She was wet, and excited but was not yet certain she thoroughly enjoyed the sensation. There was something about the lack of emotion, but it was overpowered by that sense of dominance, and this, to her surprise, had her very turned on. The bed was rocking, forcing the headboard to knock against the wall. Cara felt the heat on her ass cheeks from being slapped and a slight sting from what felt like her “so-called” lover’s nails being dragged across the tender skin. She could feel an orgasm building, but it was different. It was a sensation she did not ever remember experiencing. “That’s it, cum for me you little whore, cum for me now!” The voice was loud but muffled. Cara’s hair was being pulled back hard as the strapon was fucking her relentlessly. Her pussy walls began to constrict and she felt the orgasm build but for some reason, she just could not climax. ‘Trust me’ was repeating over and over in her head, louder and louder, faster and faster. The bed knocking into the wall… “Cara?” Silence. “Cara, are you ok?” The girl’s voice came from outside the bedroom door. “Cara, goddamnit, answer me or I’m going to break this fucking door down.” She opened her eyes and sat up in the bed. Her heart raced as she looked around the room disoriented. “I’m ok, I’m ok,” she called out and slid to the edge of the bed. Cara’s legs trembled as she unlocked the door for her roommate, barely making it back to the bed before her knees gave out.Her hardened nipples rubbed the inside of her soft shirt with each heavy breath as she sat trying to regain composure. There was a bit of sweat behind her knees and a distinct wetness between her legs. “What the fuck, Cara? You were like screaming in your sleep again.” Her roommate, Amber looked at her with concern. “Was it that dream? Were you tied up this time?” Cara pulled a sheet to cover her waist. “Yes, and no. Same dream, or at least the same woman, but this time I wasn’t bound, she was fucking the shit out of me from behind. Telling me to trust her.”   “Well, trust me when I say you better get dressed avcılar escort bayan or we will be late for work. We can talk about it more on the way in.” ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The girls made their way to the diner where they waitressed. Amber had gotten Cara the job when she moved to town a few months ago. It proved to be an easy task since the owner, a burly, middle-aged black man named Reggie, relished at the idea of two cute, twenty-something white girls bouncing around his diner. They were about the same slender build and often were mistaken for sisters. Cara was an inch taller at five-foot-five-inches” and maybe a touch thicker, especially in the butt. Amber would constantly joke that it was Cara’s booty that ultimately enticed Reggie to give to her the job. “Don’t look now, but she’s baaack,” Amber said in a low sing-songy tone as she motioned her eyes toward the front door. Cara could see the woman’s reflection in the glass dessert case behind Amber. “God, she’s so fucking creepy,” she quipped. The woman, an elderly lady in her late seventies, was a regular at the diner. She was quiet and frail and her demeanor was that of a character pulled straight out of a Stephen King horror film. She sat in the same booth every time and always insisted that Cara be her server. “Morning, Ms. Gallaway,” Cara greeted her with the most genuine, fake smile she could muster. “Will you be having the usual?” Ms. Gallaway looked into Cara’s eyes and eerily nodded yes with a haunting stare that seemed to penetrate. Cara’s smile slowly washed away as if the blood from her cheeks was being drawn back into her body. She quickly scribbled the order onto her pad; two scrambled eggs, toast, bacon, orange juice, and coffee, then spun and walked away. Her flaxen ponytail was pulled tightly through the back of her baseball cap and swayed as she walked. She brushed past Amber and mumbled under her breath, “Have I told you yet how much that hag creeps me out?” Ms. Gallaway played with the eggs. She always ate only the toast and coffee and left everything else on the plate. The eggs were usually pushed around into some sort of design. Some days she would incorporate the bacon into the artwork. Cara and Amber had many theories as to why Ms. Gallaway did what she did, most of which derived from their acute passion for horror films. “So, what the heck do think is up with these dreams I keep having?” Cara asked Amber as she wiped down the counter.“Maybe it’s just your subconscious telling you to get laid!” Amber laughed and Cara seared at her. Ambers laugh trailed. “Look, I have no idea, but I do know they seem to be getting more intense. You really need to go see someone, it doesn’t mean you’re crazy.” Cara’s only response was an overly dramatic eye roll. Ms. Gallaway got up, took the last sip of her coffee, then placed the cup upside down over the eggs, as was part of her banausic routine. “Dreams you say?” she murmured in the direction of the girls. With her back to Ms. Gallaway, Cara mouthed the words, “Did she just say that?”Amber chuckled under her breath and mouthed back, “Yep.” Cara turned slightly and leaned against the counter to look back at the old woman who was now subtly smiling. “Yes, Ms. Gallaway, just some weird dreams. No big deal, really.” The old woman gathered herself, and with narrow eyes looked at Cara with a grin. “Well, your friend there is right,” She motioned beylikdüzü escort bayan in the direction of Amber. “You should go talk to someone. I used to know a thing or two about dreams in my day, and they could have a deep meaning. Trust me.” Cara’s eyes got wide and her face once again felt pale as Ms. Gallaway ploddingly turned to leave. ‘Trust me? Did she just say… Trust me?’ She screamed silently in her head. Amber shook Cara gently on the shoulder. “You feel ok? Jesus, you look like you just saw a ghost?” “Yea, I’m fine. I’ll go see someone. Fuck, just leave me alone,” Cara snapped and burst through the kitchen doors out to the alley for some air. When Cara got home that evening she kicked off her shoes and flopped onto her bed. She stared up at the ceiling, replaying the dream in her head. ‘Why can’t I ever see her face? Why is it always a sex dream and why the fuck can’t I ever cum?’ She rolled to her side and grabbed the laptop off of her nightstand. Flipping it open she Googled ‘dreams, psychology,  and interpretation.’ There were many hits. Most of which were dead-end links to sites claiming to be able to tell you what your dreams meant, none of which actually could with any intellect or accuracy. She was about to slam the laptop shut when a name and address toward the bottom of the search list caught her eye. Dr. Gail Hathaway, Psychologist, specializing in dreams and mental awareness.Cara clicked the link. The page was ubiquitous and plain, like someone made it as a high school computer project. The address at the top right corner was local and Cara thought she recognized the street name. There was no phone number, just a flashing “No Appointment Necessary – Open Late”. Cara entered the address into her phone and closed the computer. She curled to her side and a flash of lightning illuminated her room followed by a distant rumble of thunder. Rain poured in a consistent woosh against her bedroom window. She closed her eyes and listened as the water gathered and melodiously trickled through the downspout that ran along the outside of her bedroom wall. ‘Should I go?’ She thought. ‘Maybe. Or maybe Amber’s right and I just need to get laid. Maybe I’m slowly losing my fucking mind.’ The bustle of the day caught up with Cara and her eyelids now felt heavy. She drifted in and out of consciousness, feeling that familiar pull in her stomach. ‘Come to me, Cara. Let me help you cum like the filthy little whore you are. It’s what you want…’ ‘No… No…’ Cara’s body twitched as the rain grew heavy. ‘Please…’ Cara murmured in her half-conscious state. ‘Trust me, Cara.’ ‘Ye-’ Lightning flashed again but this time it was simultaneous with an exploding clap of thunder that shook the house. Cara jumped in her bed startled and breathing heavy. “Cara I am headed out. I don’t know where this storm came from but it seems to be getting worse.” Amber called from behind the door. “Cara? Did you fall asleep? Get your ass up you need to go out and get laid!” Cara could hear Amber’s chuckle as it trailed away followed by the slam of the front door.   ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ “The destination is on your right. Arrived!” Cara pulled to the side of the road and looked out the passenger side window. The rain fell steadily and made it hard to see the building. Confused she looked back down at her phone’s GPS which only confirmed she had arrived at the address esenyurt escort from the website. She looked back up at the building. ‘What the fuck?’ she thought ‘This looks like someone’s house!’ Stepping out of the car and into the rain, she scurried to the mailbox and saw a sign hanging under. “Dr. Gail Hathaway, Psychologist”.  Beneath, another sign read “OPEN”. Cara shielded her eyes from the drops and looked toward the house. It appeared to be an older colonial style, set back from the road atop a small hill. There was a porch light on, as well as a few dimly lit windows. She shrugged and ran back to the car. She pulled down the street a few hundred feet, parked, turned off the engine and sat for a minute. ‘Everything about this feels wrong.’ she thought. ‘You’re going to go into that house and you’re going to be one of those stupid horror flick hoes that gets sliced up and eaten by a family of leather faces.’ The thought actually made her giggle. Cara reached for the key to start the car when she noticed the rain had abruptly stopped. She looked in the rearview mirror and noticed the mailbox sign gently swinging in the night breeze. She pulled the key from the ignition and stepped out once again. ‘This is so stupid.’ she thought as she walked briskly towards the driveway. ‘OK, I’ll just take a look and if I see anything scary, I’m out.’ she told herself.Nearing the house, she could see that it was, in fact, an old colonial that seemed well kept and somewhat inviting. She made her way up the steps and peeked in a small window to the side of the front door. The humidity of the night air fogged the glass obstructing her ability to see anything other than the glowing flicker of a candle. She pressed the doorbell but did not hear a ring. She pressed the button again and peered through the foggy glass once more in the hopes of seeing any shadows of movement. ‘Fuck it,’ She thought and turned to leave. When she reached the bottom step she thought she heard something. She cocked her head to the side and paused her breath to listen. ‘Is that jazz music?’ She wondered. The sounds were faintly coming from the back corner of the house so, Cara strolled around to investigate. She hugged close to the house peeking in each window as she passed. Each was dark, offering no insight as to what was going on inside. Cara rounded a corner and looked in one more window. As she cupped her hands against the glass and squinted her eyes, she felt a hand grab her shoulder. Her heart stopped for a second and she squealed. “It’s ok hun, I’m not going to hurt you.” It was a man’s voice. Cara spun slowly and cautiously to face him. He was small in stature, for a male, and probably in his seventies. He was dressed in an ill-fitting suit that looked as if he had found it on the clearance rack in a thrift store. Nonetheless, he was neatly kept and wore a top hat, which he politely removed and held to his chest as Cara faced him. “My name is Donovan,” he said softly as he extended his hand to her. “But, you may call me Don if you’d like.” Cara feebly shook his hand, and he could see she was frightened. “Oh dear, you’re trembling. Come, let’s get you inside and out of this nasty weather,” he offered with a warming smile. Cara followed him to a door which led them inside to a mudroom and then into a kitchen. The music was still faint but more distinct than when she was outside.Donovan opened a cupboard and removed a cup. He poured some hot water over a teabag and handed it to Cara. She cupped it in her hands, leaned back against the counter and took a few sips. “Gail always keeps a pot boiling, especially on nights like this. Are you here for the party?” He asked.

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