Angel Dreams: Dream 1

Do you believe in angels? Is it true that each one of us has a guardian angel? I have no solid proof, but I believe. Continue to read and you'll find out why.

My name is Nikki. I am in my mid twenties and single. My body is petite, standing about 5' 3" and 102 pounds. I keep tan all year around living in the south. I am naturally a brunette, but I prefer being blonde, holding on to the thought that blondes have more fun. Finally, I'm beginning to find out this may be true after all.

About a year ago, I found myself at the lowest point of my life. I have always been highly emotional and moody. When I am happy, you'll never find anyone that gets as high as I do. But when I'm not, I fall into a deep depression. There never seemed to be any middle ground with me. I always went from one extreme to another.

What made me sign on to the internet that night? My depression was worse than it had ever been. Finding a reason to live anymore was becoming more and more difficult. My life made no sense at all to me. I was a secretary during the day and a stripper by night. Used by cruel men my whole life or dating nice men who couldn't handle it when they uncovered pieces of my past. All I could think, all that kept going through my mind was, "It's Hopeless". So lonely, I remembered my computer and thought why not? I have millions of people to talk to at my fingertips. But inside I prayed, please let there be someone who can give me a reason to fight and go on.

My profile was very revealing, showing just how dark and depressed I really was. Not only that, it revealed my voracious sexual appetite. For as long as I can remember I have craved sex like some people crave food. I had always considered this a curse and proof that I was sick and far from normal. I talked to quite a few men that night, everyone of them wanting to cyber or have phone sex. Being as scared as I am, never did I give anyone my phone number. But if you wanted to talk about fucking me, no problem.

Just when I thought I would go to bed, my theory that I am only a sex object confirmed by all the men I had talked to, you IM'd me, my Love. I don't remember your exact words, but they were something to the affect of, "your profile says you love to cyber." I laughed to myself, just more proof. I told you sure I do and I decided a good cum might help me to sleep better. You asked my name, what I looked like, how old I was. I sent you a couple of pictures of me. But right away, something made me feel you were different. After the usual swapping of our physical facts, I waited for you to begin, setting the scene so that we could each get off and then never speak again. That wasn't what happened.

You surprised me by asking me about myself. Not what I looked like or what kind of sex I liked, but what were my hobbies, what kind of music did I listen to, things like that. Real facts about myself and in turn telling me things about yourself. My mind was reeling. What was this guy up to? Was this some inventive way of finding out as much as possible before setting up a really elaborate sexual scene? But the more I talked to you, the more I enjoyed myself and my demons were sent away for awhile, giving me a break.

Do you remember how long we talked that night, Kevin? I'm not sure, but I know it was early into the morning. Then you said to me, Nikki, I do need to go, my kids get up early in the mornings. Expecting a different answer that what I got, I asked if you were married. It floored me when you said yes. Men don't reveal that to someone online, not someone they wanted to fuck a few hours ago. Married men were not on my list of prospects, in real life or online, but still your honesty impressed me. I told you goodnight and thanked you for being so nice. When I signed off that night, I never expected to hear from you again, even though we put each other on our cyber lists.

Much to my surprise, when I signed on again, there you were. Talking to me, helping to pull me out of a depression that was becoming more and more frequent. Both of us had online access at work, so we even talked during the day. It had gotten to the point that we talked almost every day. During the week, we talked at work, sometimes at night and at least one night on the weekend. You sent me pictures of you. I melted at the sight of this wonderful man that fate had put in my path that dark night. So dark and so handsome, with the most beautiful smile. A little older than me, almost 10 years, but I loved that fact.

You were going through a tough time in your life too. Your marriage was falling apart and you were forced to make a hard decision. To decide if you wanted to settle on staying married to be with your children or leaving to find the real love you craved and needed. Always honest, you told me that if you decided to stay at home, our relationship would end. This filled me with dread, but I had began to care about you so much, I hoped you could work things out. Never had I seen a man so devoted to his children.

Not long after we had began talking, I had another bad experience with men. After work some coworkers talked me into going to a belated New Year's party. Most of them had worked New Year's Eve and missed out on all the celebrations. I didn't really want to go, I had told you what time I should be home and had planned on spending the rest of the night talking to you. But I didn't follow my instincts, which was becoming a pattern with me. I was also drinking and using drugs more frequently too. Anything to numb the pain that life caused. I told myself I would make an appearance and then leave.

When I woke the next morning, I found myself lying in the floor of a strange house. Bodies passed out all around me. I looked down at myself realizing I was naked, sticky, bruised and sore. Oh God, what had I done now? Humiliated, I crawled around looking for my clothes. I left as quickly as I could, not speaking to anyone before I left.

When I arrived home, I checked my phone messages. A friend, one of the dancers, had called and left several messages. She wanted to know if I was okay and to please call her when I got home. I called and asked her what was wrong. She told me that one of the other dancers had called her and filled her in on what had happened at the party. My friend was living with someone and had not attended the party. So when she asked again if I were okay, I didn't know what to say.

My mind tried to remember what had happened the night before, but I couldn't sift through the fog. Dreading what she would say, I quietly told her that I didn't remember anything and asked her what had happened? My blood ran cold when she told me what she had heard. Starting at the home of one of my coworkers, I hadn't resisted drinking and getting high.

Apparently, a couple of the bouncers, one of whom I detested, saw the opportunity to help me get wasted out of my mind. They hung around me all night, dancing and plying me with more booze and drugs. Eventually we left this party when it had died down and went to another one. There, these bastards had worked me up to the point of putting on a show for everyone.

They cheered and encouraged me as I climbed onto one of the tables and stripped for all of them. Laughing and falling off the table naked, the two of them caught me between them and started groping me. Never one to turn down sex, I didn't this night either. Not even considering that everyone there was getting a live porn show. I don't know all the details, I still can't remember to this day what happened.

What I was told was that I put up no resistance to the cruel things these two men did to me. Pushing me on my knees with their cocks in their hands, I took them both. Into my mouth, letting them spray their cum all over my naked body. No resistance when they took off their belts, whipping my entire body as other men pinned down my legs and arms. And no resistance when they fucked my body over and over, one on one and then I guess the grand finale when I let both fuck me at once. Sitting, riding one of them while the one I hated brutally fucked me in the ass. Were there other men? I didn't know.

I couldn't stop my body from shaking as my friend hesitantly told me what she had heard. I tried to block her voice, but my demons were whispering to me, telling me that I knew what she said was true. I was trash and I knew it. I began to cry and I told her I couldn't take it anymore. Life was just too hard and too cruel and I just wasn't a strong enough person to keep fighting, especially when I didn't know what I was fighting for.

She took this to mean that I was going to kill myself. As much as I wanted to die, I knew I would never do this, not directly. I was raised in a very strict church as a child and the memory engraved on my brain was of the guarantee, if you took your own life, you'd go straight to hell. I had no doubt that's where I'd end up anyway, but I couldn't make that decision myself. I was never one to be able to make difficult decisions.

Not understanding what I meant, she called the police. Both her and the police car showed up at my apartment at the same time. They convinced me to check myself into a mental health center that morning. I thought of you, my Love and gave her your screen name, making her promise to contact you. She kept her promise.

Not being able to stand the health center, the therapists, the looks they gave me when I answered their questions, I checked myself out the next day. I did promise I would take the next week off from work, both jobs.

Ashamed and humiliated when you IM'd me the next day, I tried to blow it off as being my friends fault. She overreacted I told you and I was fine. I'm so glad that you didn't believe me. But my mission from that day, was to convince you why I didn't need to live. You would have none of it. We argued, we fought, we cried, at one time we decided to go our separate ways, you frustrated me so much because you wouldn't understand. I would make you understand and I decided to tell you everything. I wrote you emails, "Nikki Letters", we named them.

My Love, why did these letters not scare you away? Why did you continue, night after night, to put up with me? You told me later that you saw so much more in me than I did and I am still so thankful for you. In these letters, I wrote things to you, disclosed deeply personal secrets that I had never told anyone. You learned of my childhood, the fact that I was sexually molested and raped at a young age, the affair with a much older neighbor while I was in high school, my ability to attract cruel men, college life, and a sadistic live-in boyfriend who almost broke my mind and spirit forever.

My letters made you angry, not at me, but at the treatment of me by men. You were frustrated too, frustrated that I wouldn't or couldn't realize that none of those things were my fault. But in my mind, it wasn't a coincidence that things kept happening over and over to me. I had to be the cause, it had to be some defect I was born with. Then I told you my biggest shame, my rape as a child, the molestation, even with the devil I lived with, no matter what they did to me, even against my will, I still always managed to have orgasms. That was my proof to you that I was sick. But to my surprise, this didn't convince you.

You told me that one of the hardest things that victims of rape had to get over was if they got off during the rape. You told me that we were only human and just because our bodies responded to sex, didn't mean it was okay to be taken against your will and it didn't mean I was responsible.

We continued to talk and through the months something miraculous happened. I stopped being depressed as often, my dark thoughts of death were gone, the demons in my head were much quieter and my opinion of myself was much higher. The most wonderful thing that happened was that we fell in love and in the warmth of your love, I blossomed. You had decided to leave your marriage and were still coping with missing your children. I tried to help you through this, the way you helped me. I hope I was able to, but I know I didn't do as good a job as you did. We began talking on the phone as well. I'll never forget the first time I heard your deep and terribly sexy voice. I was so nervous and so ashamed of my southern accent, but you loved it and continue to tell me what a sexy voice I have as well.

Phone sex was a new experience for me. I don't know if it's as good for everyone as it was with you and I, but I never failed to cum and every orgasm was so intense.

The first time we had this experience over the phone, I was talking to you on my cell phone as I left my day job to go to work at the club. I had some time to kill so I sat in my car after I parked at the club. Just hearing your voice turns me on and I was so hot and wet sitting there. I knew there was no way I'd make it through work feeling as I did. My car windows are tinted and I had parked in an out of the way parking place pulling up to a brick wall. I put my visor over my windshield and asked you if it was okay for me to play with myself while talking to you. You laughed and told me of course.

I slipped off my sandals and then my panties. I was wearing a short skirt and tank top. Pulling my skirt up around my waist and my top up over my tits, I laid my seat all the way back. As I listened to your hypnotic voice, I put my feet on the dash, spreading my legs wide and stroked my swollen and wet pussy. As if by magic, my hand became yours and all things you were saying that you wanted to do to me, you were. I came so hard and so loudly, but when I was through, I was so embarrassed. Just another thing you wouldn't stand for, telling me how beautiful I sounded as I came for you.

The only problem during these highly erotic times was that you were at work. You assured me that your own orgasm followed shortly after, but never on the phone. You were living with your parents at the time and had no privacy.

Then the night arrived when you were alone with the house all to yourself. When you called me and told me, I was ecstatic. Finally, a chance to give back to you what you had so unselfishly given to me. The desire to please you was so strong. Both of us naked in our beds, speaking our desires to each other, my whispering of how much I wanted to taste you, to take your hard cock into my throat, you telling me about fucking me so hard and so deep. I understood immediately after hearing you cum what you had meant about the beautiful sounds.

That night was so intense, but so confusing. My orgasms with the men in my life were never as intense as this. Was it our love, your ability to convey your feelings and desires so well or was it just the new experience of cumming with a man I've never met? If it wasn't the phone sex, but our love instead, how much more intense would it be if we ever met in person? Those thoughts kept me hot and wet.

Everyday you consume my thoughts more and more. I make decisions based on what I think you'd say or do. Even to the point of not stripping anymore and becoming a waitress instead. Talking to each other brings us closer together making the 1000 miles that separate us not important. Laughing at the differences in the way we speak, eat, and things we say. You living in the north and me in the deep south makes for lots of culture jokes.

There were times I tried dating with no success, you had a girlfriend for awhile too. But nothing kept us apart, only distance and circumstances prevented us from actually meeting. If anyone had told me that I could fall so deeply in love with a man I had never actually seen or touched, I would have told them they were crazy. But here we are, our love growing more everyday. You loving my childish personality, my love for playing and laughing, my highly sexual nature. I love you manliness, your control, the way you make me listen, the way you care for me and protect me from so far away.

Never had I had an online relationship before. I had friends I talked to, favorite men I enjoyed cybering with, my favorite chatrooms to go in. Eventually giving all these up just to be with you as much as possible. You, on the other hand, had a couple of online relationships. When you told me about a short one you had with a submissive woman, I was intrigued. Some of the things you told me she liked made me sick, you said she was deep into hard core S&M. You told me then that you could never be a Dom and do those things. I had no idea what any of these names meant, but something struck a nerve and I decided to find out more.

I went into a submissive chatroom that you told me this woman liked. I read with great interest what these women and men were saying to each other. I talked with the submissive women, asking them how they knew what they were. They gave me lots of advice and some websites to go and read. The more I learned about submissiveness, the more I found I had in common with these women.

I made some of the common mistakes, letting a so called Dom try to dominate me when he hadn't earned my respect, thinking there were rules that you had to abide by. Eventually I met an older Dom in one of the chatrooms who taught me so much and had great patience answering my questions. Eventually he became a mentor to me. The more I learned the more I knew without a doubt what I was. Things that happened in my childhood, my behavior, decisions I had made, the kind of sex I loved, all these things factored into in my discovery and acceptance. It excited me so much to know that I wasn't abnormal, that other women liked and had went through the things I had.

There was only problem with my discovery. I did all these things in secret, never telling you what I was finding out. It ate away at my heart knowing that you said you would never be a Dom. But I also knew that if you had made this choice based on the other submissive woman you knew and what she liked, that you were wrong. I now knew it was different with each couple, all people were different and had their own limits and preferences. I decided to begin slowly talking to you about what I had learnt.

First an email telling you some of the comparisons that I had made with myself and submissive women, asking for your opinion. To my surprise, you told me that you had known all along that I was a submissive, but that you wanted me to discover it on my own. My Love is so wise. Even then you told me that even though you knew you were attracted to sub's, you couldn't be a Dom. For once, I knew you were wrong. You dominate me constantly, giving me the protection, advice and the kind of love I desire.

I sent you some addresses for some of the websites I thought might help you overcome the misconceptions you had about D/s lifestyles. I began telling you of some of my fantasies about being bound by you and spanked. My heart swelled when we discovered how much these fantasies turned you on. I told you of my desires, why I craved a D/s lifestyle, not just for playing or doing sexual scenes, but to make this my way of life 24/7. The way you responded was amazing.

We discussed what neither of us wanted to do, some things I wanted you weren't wild about and vice versa. Neither of us were into hardcore S&M, but I craved the painful pleasure of a submissive and you understood. Most everything each of us desired or didn't, we agreed on. Just as I had found my destiny, discovered what I was meant to be with your help and encouragement, you had made some discoveries about yourself my Love. There was a reason you were attracted to submissive women. The reason being that you were a Dom, you desired the love and devotion given freely by sub's and you desired to dominate. You had trouble accepting this, but when I showed the ways you dominated me, you had to agree.

Suddenly the sexual relationship between us became more intense. The things we talked about and revealed that we wanted during sex, making us more hot for each other and turning us on to extreme levels. You couldn't believe how quickly and how hard you could now make me cum by telling me the painful pleasure you would inflict on me or telling me exactly what to do to get myself off.