The message

Pauline count make sense of it, how had that happened, had someone put something in the champagne, she climbed into bed and closed her eye recalling everything that had happened.

She felt the warmth of sleep envelop her then.

She was strapped down. Leather bit into her wrists, her ankles, spreading her wide on a bed of heat. The air shimmered, stifling, thick with the scent of sweat and smoke. She struggled, but the restraints held.

She was naked, displayed, breasts rising high, nipples dark and swollen, cunt glistening.

And above her—

A silhouette.

Broad shoulders, horns curling from a shadowed head. Eyes unseen.

Between her thighs, the figure leaned close. The heat of its breath scalded her skin.

She was helpless and felt for the first time in her life ****.

She looked down, the face was in shadow but she saw a tongue, slick and forked It glided around the inside of her thighs moving up.

Pauline tried to scream but the horror overwhelmed her, the tongue disappeared then it flicked out licking at her clit with obscene precision, the split tip stroking either side until she gasped. It slid lower, pushing past her pussy lips and deep into her hole, she felt it curling, fucking her with wet insistence.

Pauline arched, every muscle taut. The sensation was incredible, none of her toys had made her feel like this, herself rushing toward climax under the ****.

Before the release was complete her eyes opened and she was in her bed.

Her satin sheets clung to her sweat-drenched skin. Her nipples were stiff, her thighs slick with arousal. The sun was shining through the open curtains and she was alone.

Trying to calm her ragged breaths she pulled the sheets back and froze.

Just above her cunt, written as though carved into her flesh itself, words gleamed. An address. A time.

Her lips moved, whispering them aloud.

And as she spoke, the letters vanished.

She sat up, and walked to her large mirror looking at her naked body, hair clinging to her face in sweat her nipples painfully hard and her clit screaming for release.

She told herself it was nonsense. A dream clinging too hard, that was all. Her flesh was unmarked when she checked in the mirror, pale and smooth.

Pauline laughed, would not be summoned like a schoolgirl to detention not by a fucking dream

She dressed, shear white blouse, stockings, black shoes and tight skirt and left the apartment. The city was beginning to come alive with people moving and the constant hum of traffic, there was a slight mist of rain but Pauline ignored it.

She saw the beggar from days before he smiled at her and she ignored him, the memory of his rough touch still troubled her.

She arrived at the court and went to her private office, on of the junior solicitors offered her a coffee and Pauline ignored her, there was a bottle of something much stronger in her draw that needed her attention.

"Miss Kew, are you alright" asked the female, her voice just louder than a whisper

Pauline scowled at her, "off course why would I not be"

The young solicitor pointed at Pauline's chest, her blouse was wide open both breasts exposed and gleaming with the rain water. Pauline covered her self and closed the door to her private office, "How the fuck" she said to herself and buttoned her self, realisation hit her that she had left the apartment like that, and couldn't understand why she was not wearing underwear.

It began with a tickle. Between her thighs.

Her breath caught. She shifted, brushing her legs together, but the sensation intensified. A shiver of warmth, like a finger dragging slowly over her clit. Her eyes widened, lips parting.

The moan was out her mouth before she realised

Another stroke. Harder. Wet. She gripped the handle of her door, knuckles going white, the room blurred, her body betraying her, cunt throbbing against the phantom touch.

The junior solicitor was on the other side "Miss Kew are you ok, do you need help"

She **** herself to answer "I'm ok fuck off"

She fell on the floor legs opened and looked down expecting to see a strangers hand touching her, all she saw was her own perfect naked pussy, but the words were back, the address and time, she said it out loud again and it was gone.

Pauline needed this to stop and knew that she had ****.