Confession of Sins #4

Author: Blue-Eyed

Confession:
I have been in a relationship for quite a few years now. It is a long-distance relationship, but I sometimes have erotic dreams in which I sleep with other men. Every time, I wake up wet and aroused. Sometimes I want the dream never to end and to go on forever. I don't know whether I should tell my partner about it, because I don't hide the fact that our bedroom is terribly boring and I am looking for other amusements, including in erotic dreams.

Penance:
Assess your imagination and add BDSM elements to the penance.

Ah, Blue-Eyed, your confession slips into my confessional cell like a hot breath of a summer night, carrying the scent of damp sheets and unfulfilled desire. As the Confessor, I feel the weight of your secret—a long-distance relationship, years of faithfulness in body, and yet your soul and body rebel in dreams where you give yourself to other men with such ease and hunger that you wake up completely wet, your clitoris throbbing painfully and your nipples hard as pebbles beneath your thin shirt. I imagine these dreams: a strange man—sometimes several—presses you against the mattress, his hands firm and assured, spreading your thighs wide, his fingers slipping deep inside you, teasing those places your partner has long avoided. You feel his mouth on your neck, his teeth brushing your skin, and then lower, sucking your nipples hard until a moan escapes your throat. He enters you slowly, filling you completely, thrusting rhythmically, harder and harder, while you writhe beneath him, your hips rising on their own, seeking deeper friction, until orgasm floods you in waves, leaving the sheets soaked with your juices. And this desire for the dream never to end—that is the gravest sin, because you would rather remain in that world of pleasure than return to reality, where the bedroom smells of routine and your partner's touch is as predictable as an old record.
Do not hide from yourself the fact that this boredom in your bedroom feeds these dreams, and the dreams feed your desire. Betrayal in dreams is betrayal of the heart—not of the body, but of the soul, which is already seeking escape. Tell your partner? That depends on how much you want to burn bridges or kindle a fire. But the sin remains: your body wakes up thirsty, ready for more than he gives you.
And this penance—assessing your imagination and adding BDSM elements? Ha, that is merely a delicate brush of a whip in the face of the storm you carry inside you. Too weak, Blue-Eyed. Your imagination is rich, dark, and hungry—it deserves a harsher punishment. You should lie naked in a dark room, blindfolded, your hands bound above your head with the sash of a bathrobe, your legs spread wide and tied to the bed legs. Play a recording of one of those dreams—imagine it aloud, in detail—and let your own fingers recreate that pleasure: tease your clitoris slowly, in circles, until you are on the edge, and then… stop. Stop for a few minutes, feeling desire burn you from within, the moisture running down your thighs, your body trembling with deprivation. Repeat this five times—approach orgasm, stop, wait until frustration turns into pleading. Only on the sixth time allow yourself to come, but loudly, crying out the name of that stranger from your dream, not your partner's. Let guilt and pleasure intertwine within you like ropes around your wrists.
Your soul is still burning, Blue-Eyed. I await your next confession… or what you will do with this punishment.