Dictated Moans

Silk sheets and dreams

The room Asher had prepared for her was small but cozy, with soft blue curtains and a vintage dresser that still held the scent of old cedar. Cassie stood by the window for a moment, looking out into the quiet night, the stars scattered like silver dust across the sky.

She was tired—no, spent—her muscles sore from the day’s activities, her mind stretched thin by memory and emotion. But for the first time in days, the heaviness in her chest had eased. The house had been filled with laughter again. Her friends were near. And her brother had done more than she could ask to make her feel welcome.

She ran a warm bath, letting the water ease into her skin, soft and calming. The scent of lavender rose from the bubbles, lulling her deeper into a state of relaxation. When she emerged, she slipped into cotton pajamas—deep red, a shade she hadn’t worn in years—and crawled under the duvet.

Her head barely touched the pillow before sleep claimed her.

The room was the same—and yet it wasn’t.

The dream world shifted around her like silk. Shadows danced on the walls, and the air felt charged with something unspoken, something waiting.

She heard footsteps. Confident. Steady.

And then he appeared. The masked man.

Cassie’s breath hitched. She looked at him: The upper buttons of his black shirt were undone, revealing a hint of sculpted chest. Around his neck hung a crimson tie—the same color as her pajama pants. His trousers clung to him like a second skin, every movement deliberate, powerful.

Though his face was hidden, she could feel the weight of his gaze on her. It stripped her bare.

He stepped forward and spoke—his voice low, smooth but commanding.

“Take it off.”

A flush crept across her cheeks. Her hands trembled slightly as she obeyed. The air in the dream was thick, heady, filled with tension. Her breath came faster, but her mind felt slow and quiet—like she was floating just beneath the surface of something unknown.

“Lie down,” he said before moving close to her.

He smoothed her hair from her face, kissed her cheek before grabbing her hands and tying them on the bed with a soft silk scarf. He then raised her torso up, making her n*****s peak. He stood by the bedside and stared at her for a minute, soaking in her pink n*****s, smooth skin and plush lips,

"So beautiful," he murmured softly.

Cassie felt uncomfortable from the scrutiny his eyes accorded her. She had never been the subject of a look so scorching it made her drip. She shifted, closed her legs tight, something which made him made.

"Oh, no you don't. Spread!" He commanded.

Cassie found herself obeying without question. He pinched her left n****e and she moaned rather loudly, a mixture of pain and pleasure coarsing through her.

"That is for closing your legs. And stop making those noises, or you'll wake up the entire house."

Cassie could only nod and watch. He turned to her beckoning breasts and started playing with them: Pinched her n*****s lightly then painfully before licking them with his warm tongue. Cassie almost jumped from the sensation.

"Looks like I am going to have to tie you up," he said as he abandoned her n*****s.

Cassie felt the cold the moment he left. He was still in the room, shuffling through her open suitcase in the closet. She wished she had the courage to pull him back and let him fall on top of her. Luckily, he came back, his tie in on hand, her red thong in the other. He moved close to her, used her thong to tie one leg then his tie, the other leg. Her legs were now wild apart, her p***y open and throbbing. He stared at her and licked his lips, making Cassie moan softly. She wanted her lips and tongue in her.

"Please," Cassie begged.

"Please what?"

"Please sir, make me c*m," Cassie cried. She did not know where the courage had come from but she wanted him to touch her, f**k her with his delicious tongue.

Here, she was a woman with want. The woman burdened by grief and decisions had been left in the real world.

The man carressed her thighs, slowly and softly. He moved his hand towards her p***y, close but not quite touching it. Cassie let out a frustrated cry. Why was he punishing her? Couldn't he just give her what she was yearning for?

Without warning, he slipped in two fingers, making Cassie jump from shock. It was a good thing she had been tied, otherwise she would have fallen off the bed. He held her down firmly with one hand, his fingers digging into her soft flesh.

That is sure going to leave a mark, Cassie thought as she watched him lick the two fingers. He brushed her c**t gently before slipping in one finger. All this while, he watched her; his eyes intense and full of want. The bulge in his pants was an indication of how much he wanted her.

"Please," Cassie cried when he removed his finger.

"Not yet. You don't come unless I say so. We are just getting started," he said to her plea.

Cassie let out a frustated huff. He chuckled before heading to the bathroom, leaving Cassie dripping with want.

Cassie was horny and mad at him for leaving her like that. He should have finished her off before leaving for the toilet. She was going to finish the job, she decided. Problem was she was still tied up and could not even rub her thighs together. She tested the scarf on her hands. It was loosely tied so she was able to take off one of her hands.

She gently moved it towards her inner thighs, caressed herself before slipping in two fingers. She added a third to hasten the feeling. She knew she was going to be punished by him but she did not care. All she wanted was an orgasm, consequences be damned. She could feel it coming so she undid the other hand and used it to rub her c**t. She was almost there, almost tasting it when she heard a knock. It was so loud that it jolted her awake from her dream, the release forgotten.

She breathed in and out, counting one to ten, trying to calm her racing heart down. She was drenched in sweat despite the cool morning. Her fingers were deep in her, her pajama bottoms abandoned on the floor. She hurriedly removed her fingers.

The knock came again, louder this time.

Cassie thoughts were still all over the place, but one feeling was clear: Guilt. Awake now, the spell gone, heart still racing, she swung her legs over the side of the bed and sat there, staring at the wall, letting the cool air hit her skin.

Why this dream?

Why now of all times?

She was supposed to dream about her mother, of the house they were sorting, of the memories they were trying to honor, not having wet dreams with strangers.

But here she was craving, exposed, trapped in the presence of a man she barely knew and had met only once in real life.

"Cassie, are you okay in there?" Emily's voice filtered through the door.

She shook her head, picked her pajama bottoms and put them on before walking towards the door.