Lacey was dreaming. It was the dream where she was on the bus even though she hadn’t taken public transit in over a year. The people on the bus kept snickering at her. Something had happened to her used car, although in the dream Lacey didn’t know what, and now she was forced to take the bus again. The people on the dream bus knew this and were openly mocking her. They ridiculed her for trying to be better than them and they delighted in the fact that now she had fallen back into the humiliation of public transit.
It was a dream and inherently silly but it was Lacey’s fears that wrote this dream. They spoke with the secret voice of her mother and it resonated with the shameful deep center that lurked within Lacey. She stood there in the middle of the bus, standing because no one would give her a seat. The bus jerked and kept her constantly off balance. At any moment she was going to fall and that would make her humiliations complete. Alone in her dreams, she struggled to delay the inevitable.
Something pushed her down hard. She landed on the dirty floor of the bus. Lacey could feel the weight of a man pushing down on her and her earlier shame transformed into terror. Strong hands gripped her wrists and pinned her down. A heavy male scent washed over her. She could feel the bulge of his cock pressing into her ass.
Then came the bite. Hard. Sharp. Powerful.
The bite clamped her neck and squeezed
Robert was on top of her. He had her pinned down. The sun peeked through the curtains to show his strong hands holding down her wrists. She could feel his cock throb against her ass. His teeth were on her neck; biting down like a cat bites its mate. He might fuck her, he might not. In the early morning, there is no telling which way he may choose.
This was how he woke her every morning. Claiming her with hands, teeth and sometimes cock, he made her his every day. She was his from the very moment she opened her eyes.
“No,” Lacey thought. From before she opened her eyes.
His teeth released her but his hands didn’t let her go.
“Good morning,” he said.
She groaned. Her body was alive before her mind was. She wiggled beneath him, trying to tempt him to fuck her.
“What did you dream about?” he asked.
Lacey hesitated. The dream was gone. She couldn’t remember the bus, the cruel people or the thought of losing her car. Her fears, doubts and shame shrank into nothing under the pressure of his powerful hands and his claiming bite. Lacey had a vague feeling that it was a bad dream but she couldn’t really say. The dream with all of the nasty mean doubting voices belonged to someone else. They certainly didn’t belong to the claimed sensual woman with the bitten neck.
“I can’t remember,” she said, and it was true.