Last night I had my first spanking dream in a very long time, and it was unusually vivid – complete with the sense of touch and smell, which hardly ever happens.
I was in a slavegirl, and I accompanied my mistress to the market. I carried two wicker baskets, which got progressively fuller as we purchased all the things we needed. The mistress had a shopping list, which she went through item by item.
Finally she got to the last line: “Ah, here we go: a kitchen girl. Come along to the slave traders, and hurry up: it’s quite late, all the good ones might be gone.”
We walked across the market to where slaves were being sold, and my mistress picked a girl to work in the kitchens. I watched with interest. As well as the usual inspection, the mistress demanded that the trader gave the girl a few cuts of the whip, to see how well she could take a punishment. I was slightly worried that I would have to take a few strokes as an example, but this didn’t happen.
The dream grew fuzzy after that, but the sights and smells of the market, mixed with the sounds of the cracking whip, stayed with me when I woke up – and still entertain me quite a lot.
Oh, what a delicious dream!
Last night, I dreamt I was in a West End show, didn’t know my words or the songs, had to take the script on stage, had no costumes and kept getting lost backstage and missing my entrances. I woke up drenched in sweat and not in a good way.
I want your dream! Swapsies?