The other night I had an erotic dream. Or nightmare. I'd like to tell you about it. Of course you'll have to suspend your disbelief for erotic relief. After all, not all dreams make sense or would even seem plausible in real life but when you're on an erotic high you don't really care. I mean don't ask me what I was doing alone in the mountains of Afghanistan, or some such place, being arrested and tortured by some hunky desert stormers. In the dream it didn't seem to matter although it was pretty gruelling all the same and I woke up hot under the collar and in several other places as well.

When I was doing my bit for my country, we were sometimes subjected to simulated attacks by the enemy. This included interrogation and torture. From time to time, our superiors got carried away and went a bit too far and it began to feel like the real thing. Reports of alleged atrocities committed by British and American soldiers brought these old memories flooding back to me. As presented by the media it all looks pretty gross and unattractive and even exaggerated but one can't help thinking what else might have happened behind bars, somewhere or other, which of course you never see.

This dream was really realistic because the guys who captured me and chained me up had typically Islamic features so it didn't look like a simulated attack. I took it for real and was shit scared and, as always happens when I'm sexually excited or afraid, my nipples and dick got hard simultaneously. Mind you, I must admit my fears were laced with horny anticipation, as my captors were lithe and muscular and good looking. I only got a brief glimpse of them as they blindfolded me and whisked me off to their headquarters in a jeep but it was enough to start me salivating. They spoke to each other in what I supposed was Arabic so I didn't know what the hell was going on. I was wearing tough leather boots so I kicked out and must have scored a double goal and caught one of them in the balls as he hollered in pain and I got punched in the face and stomach. I calmed down a bit then but didn't give up the struggle.

They threw a bucket of freezing cold water over me which made me gasp and I found a thick dick in my mouth before I could close it again. Of course I could have bitten the fucking thing off but that wouldn't have improved my plight any. They say that Victorian brides-to-be were told by their mothers to close their eyes and think of England when being fucked by their new husbands but I was blindfolded anyway so that bit of advice didn't help much. The guy's dick was pretty hard to take - to put it mildly - but I wasn't in a position to protest. Besides, my own mother always told me not to speak with my mouth full.

My unknown assailant kept muttering something which translated was probably the equivalent of suck my dick you cock-sucker. Sex talk is pretty international and not very original. Not to mention a bit redundant sometimes. Anyway, when your outstretched arms are chained to an iron bar, your legs are splayed open and both your feet are attached to the ground there's not much you can do except give way and go with the flow. Maybe overflow would have been a more appropriate word for the inappropriate things he and a whole bunch of others were soon doing to me.

I'd barely had time to swallow his copious cum and lick my lips clean, before another gargantuan dick was in my mouth, someone else was ripping the shirt off my back and yet another solid soldier was splitting my pants open with a sharp knife.

This is probably not the time to mention it but I have a great butt and it must have lit up the place like a fucking medallion. I doubted any of my interrogators had an ass half as impressive as mine. Even if I say it myself, it's really dick drooling and appetizing. In fact I heard what could only have been appreciative comments. A veritable chorus of them unfortunately and I realized there had to be at least five soldiers lining up to gang bang me.

Pride comes before a fall they say and I knew my ass was in for an intensive crash course of mass screwing. Not only that, but I was presently having my nipples nicked by the guy with the knife while he honed away at my ass with his dagger-like dick. Meanwhile my face-fucker was wedged firmly in my mouth so you might say I was having both bowels and jowls burst simultaneously.

In spite of the discomfort and pain I couldn't help wondering how he could be in line with my dick if the other guy was pronging me from behind and I was standing up straight as a soldier on parade with my hands above my head. I could only presume he was on a ladder or something.

These thoughts were driven from my head as one dick was replaced by another in quick succession and I felt like I was being topped and tailed by an entire regiment. I had childhood visions of my mother preparing green beans straight from the garden. Fresh and tender. Now I was the green bean, something I'd have enjoyed in the right circumstances but which now freaked me out as there was absolutely no tenderness attached to it, just brute force. And I was feeling anything but fresh. My mouth felt like yesterday's mashed potatoes, my butt was smouldering like the coals of a burnt out fire, and my dick had collapsed like an empty pea pod.

Just when I thought there was nothing else they could do to me, some nasty piece of work was giving me a couple of vicious strokes with a cat-whip. As I passed out with the pain, other images and other torturers penetrated my thoughts. Maybe I was in a different dream or a different day. All I remember was some guy's tongue licking the blood from my pecs and nipples. My new ravisher was like a hungry baby searching for its mother's milk. That at least was pleasurable and my body melted somewhat. Especially when I felt his moist mouth moving down to meet the pre-cumtide seeping from my rising dick. I'm only human after all and couldn't help getting hard. Soon he was giving me the best blowjob I'd had in a long time. My sex-addled mind was filled with fire hoses and suction pumps and my ass by another larger than life dick.

The guy sodomizing me was making horny animal noises as he fucked me and swearing at me in a language I didn't understand but which turned me on like crazy. The sounds coming from him as he came rang in my ears like erotic music and made me want to moan and groan as an accompaniment but I didn't for two reasons. One, the guy piping away at my dick was literally gagging me and two, I was determined not to let the fuckers know they were getting to me and that I was on a sexual high. My knees and mouth began to buckle, my senses started to swim, and everything morphed together. I was beginning to enjoy my torture.

After they'd finished with me, I was thrown rudely into a cell like a used condom. What was left of my clothes stuck to my bloodstained body in tatters. Only my army boots were intact. I must have looked like a fugitive from a fetish flick. I was virtually naked, except for a pair of jackboots, and the chains which dangled from my wrists and ankles. My dick was doing a fair bit of dangling too.

I found I was sharing the cell with another guy who must have received similar treatment because he was sleeping it off in the bunk below me. I climbed over him to lie down and nurse my wounds. There was no washbasin in the cell. Only a filthy toilet. And I wasn't about to wash myself with toilet water. I still had my pride even if I would never have recognized my ass. Fortunately there was no mirror there either. I fell asleep but later in the night I had to get up to relieve myself. I could hardly touch my dick, it was so sore. I stood pissing with my hands on my hips then went back to bed too weak and exhausted to even yank off my boots. Certainly too weak to resist my cellmate's hands as they grabbed me and pulled me in with him as I tried to climb back into my bunk. Soon I was being cradled and caressed by these hands and his soothing voice. I know you can't be cradled by a voice but as I said at the beginning of this story sometimes you have to suspend belief in favour of erotic fantasy.

It was too dark to see who he was but his hands and voice communicated all I needed to know. He didn't speak much English which made oral communication difficult. The spoken kind I mean. Any other kind would have been impossible seeing that we'd both been battered, bruised and abused out of our sexual senses. Still this didn't stop us seeking sensual warmth and comfort and we managed to give each other plenty of that. Since then, whenever I see a dog or cat licking its wounds after a fight, I'm reminded of the sweet satisfaction I got from that guy wetting the tips of his fingers and passing them over my broken lips and then turning me gently over and letting his tongue run ever so slowly down my back to clean away the blood. And he didn't stop at the base of my back either. Even now, I get an erotic tingle at the thought of it.

I was half asleep when I heard the cell door cranking open and scuttled back to my own bunk shuddering to think what they would have done to us if they'd caught us together.

Still naked and attached to our chains we were dragged out of the cell and thrown into an army jeep to be taken I know not where. Maybe even subjected to torture and further abominations but a bomb killed our driver and saved our lives.

That's when I woke up hot under the collar and in other places as well. It had all seemed so real like that Annette Bening movie 'In Dreams.' Part of the fantasy included making love to my gorgeous cellmate who now looked like Robert Downey Jr. This was after we'd both recovered of course and the dream was spiced up by the singular sound of the slip, slap, slop of my dick going in and out of him and the catlike purrs he produced as I made a wet pussy out of his hot ass.

But as they say at the beginning of books and movies, this story bears no resemblance whatsoever to persons living or dead, so that lets Robert Downey Jr. off the hook although two of his movies --- 'Iron Man' and 'Tropic Thunder' --- had a considerable and palpable effect on my dream.

And, after all, just like the fine line between love and hate you never know where fantasy ends and reality begins. That's what makes life - and erotic stories - interesting, isn't it!