How Can You Tell If You’re Dominant Or Submissive?

Ladies and gents, I’m kinda stumped.

Early in the week, I was talking to a lady about how to implement kink into her marriage with her husband, when she ran a question by me – How do you know if you’re Dominant?

I answered that question best I could in the moment, running my own experiences with identifying the feeling by her, hoping it would connect somehow. But now, days later, I’m still thinking it over. I don’t really know HOW. It all seems so organic looking back.

I have also recently had someone ask me If they’re still fully submissive if they enjoy being bratty – there’s a lot of misunderstanding about the persona and how it applies to the individual.

Unfortunately, there’s a lot of confused and alone people out there with a laundry list of questions and no one to ask. I’m more than happy to answer anything anyone has to ask, be you male, female, teenager, adult, new to the lifestyle or in the middle of a transformation or even someone with an inkling of kinkling.

Anyway, I thought I would try to the answer the question at length, hoping newcomers to BDSM might relate and it can help them in their own journey.

In the beginning, I had these feelings that I had understanding of. I didn’t know I could file my name calling under ‘Degradation and Humiliation’ nor did I understand why I was so interested in control – in exercising authority over my girlfriend. In these stages, there was no real sense of D/s and aftercare because I was immature and these feelings were immature and coarse and unrefined.

Before I continue, let me just write that there’s no absolute way for one person. Everyone is different and works differently.

I should say that my own development has come with a certain degree of blind luck. I met certain people at the right time in my life, people like me, through Fetlife or the semi-sketchy anonymous confessional app Whisper. I was a lucky bastard. I had the blessing of shaping who I was through encounters along my twenties.

Fetlife was a big player in my path, I would say. By signing up and looking around, I could see I wasn’t alone. I could even put a name to my kinks and thus have some semblance of understanding.

Google helped too, in a way, acting as a gateway to all sorts of media – books, images, blogs, people, Kink. Suddenly I knew of words like ‘Dominance’ and ‘submission’ and ‘dynamic’. Combine this with Fetlife and I had opportunities to feel the gravitational force to someone who was submissive. I’m talking, heart racing, cock hardening, breath quickening gravitational forces that helped me realise something was within me.

I know what you’re wondering. ‘Okay, but how does someone know if they’re dominant? Or even submissive?’

The best advice I can give is that it starts with an idea. Have a google of key concepts that come to mind when you think of BDSM – blindfolding, handcuffs, dirty talk. Start small. See if something strikes up your fancy.

If you want to reach deeper, have a look at concepts within a D/s relationship, such as setting tasks and rules and maintaining order. See if any of these concepts appeal to you on a base level. Try not to feel overwhelmed by the sheer volume of information – there can be a lot to learn but you can easily break it up into easily digestible parts.

Start small. Start light. A bit of spanking, a bit of issuing commands – talk to your partner about what they would like to try and see if it strikes a chord with you on any level.

The last advice I can give is to be open to yourself and to your partner. That goes for likes and dislikes and even if you’re uninterested. But always be open to trying at least. You never know what you’ll find on the road less travelled.

Untitled Erotica

It’s somewhere between a wheeze and a squeak, this delicious sound. It comes rushing out of her lips as his slides his cock into her.

He can feel her stomach construct beneath him, her legs tightening beside him

She tries to speak, this light blonde blue eyed darlin’, but all that comes out is a strained whisper. A husky moan.

Her grey dress, a collage of 1980s science fiction pop culture featuring the likes of Marty McFly, Doctor Who and Luke Skywalker, is bunched up around her stomach, ready to be lifted up and over.

Her panties are simple – dark green and cotton. Bought down at plaza at the K Mart. He’s seen her there before a coupla times.

Her dark green panties are pulled to the side, revealing a cunt with blonde fuzz growing back across her lips. It’s the sweetest thing he’s ever seen. The holiest Of holies.

As he pull them down her pale legs, they tangle. He thinks of a scrunchie. He thinks of their bodies strewn across her bedroom floor while the party outside rages on. He thinks of her dumbass boyfriend with the jock friends and the shaved head and the tattoo of 49 on his biceps even though he’s like 30 and no where near that age. Or her age, 23.

But it’s fleeting, these thoughts. His cock aches with an intensity he’s never experienced. It drives him forward, pulling back out of her so the tip of his head teases her lips before he slides back in, her low gasp a sonata to his ears.

She’s telling him they shouldn’t, he needs to get off, they need to stop, this is wrong, this is wrong, but she doesn’t move. She struggles, she kicks her legs, as if her body agrees with the idea of getting away from him but her mind isn’t. Her face is contorted, yet he sees her still, the woman he’s known, the one underneath, locked away.

Her grey dress goes up and over. It’s not as easy as he’d like, some part of her resists,yet he continues. He spots her rib cage as he pulls it over her. Then he sees – she’s not wearing a bra. Her tits are small, even lying down only her nipples remain, pointed, betraying her words.

Her hands so swat at him, feebly, lazily almost, so he holds them above her tangle of sun kissed hair.

With his left hand, he has to see for himself. He runs his thumb along her stiff nipple, a small beautiful nub. Her response is that low wheeze.

He can’t recall how they ended up here, these old friends. He’s conscious of this as he is driven by the need to push and pull, the need to pump. Everything is vulgar. Yet the plunge on the bedroom escapes him. He must have her. He must taste her lips.

She’s insulting him now, spitting her words at him. They come out razor sharp, seething with venom. He’s never heard her like this. Is she crying or is that a moan? But something has him now and he can’t stop. He might never stop.

He can smell her, all around. This rich aroma. It floods his senses. He thanks the universe he can finally understand, can finally breathe her in.

Her cries, her insults, her whimpers quicken. Tangled between a cry and a moan, a wheeze and a breath, she curses him, in front of all the devils and angels and beings watching.

It’s all there – hate, love, rage, betrayal, lust, pain, pleasure. She hits his back hard, once…twice. He barely registers, quickens, frenzied, grunting. All of his life is in that thrust.

As he lowers his mouth and sinks his teeth into her pale neck, she comes. It’s demonic, possessed, traveling from the pit of her stomach up her throat and out her lips. The tail end of her orgasmic cry comes with another curse. With tears, resentment.

He can’t control himself, he slips out as he reaches to kiss her lips, but it’s already in motion – he comes – shooting his load across her stomach, painting her tits in its image. She shrieks out loud, then pauses, panting. She’s frozen.

Though their eyes have stayed locked on for this entire time, he registers her fully now, as she registers him entirely. Her deep blue eyes regard his in the silence.

The After-Party

A Caucasian woman laid naked on her stomach on the coffee table in the middle of the room.

An African American woman laid on top of her, nude as well, grinding, moving her hips forward into her.

I approached the African American woman and lowered my mouth on her anus. 

She spoke my name. I tasted her ass. It was smooth and with the faint taste of skin and soap. 
I moved my tongue down her slit, pleased at how smooth she had been. 

She resisted at first, asking me to leave her be so she can scissor this woman on her ass. But I slid my tongue along her lips. She relented.

And the crowd around us, in this quaint living room, Some eating pizza,  Some playing games, paid no attention. We three had the world. And the world had we three. 

The woman on top gave in to me and the soft sweet taste of her lips and her skin was like a drug. 

And everyone changed. 

Dream Time #1

Okay, so here’s the thing:
I was having this dream that I was visiting my folks back home. My home is in another state – and for some comparison, if you drove it would take 18 and a bit hours to reach, give or take traffic, roads, the boring she-bang. 
But the point was, I was back at home. Visiting. I wasn’t me, as I wasn’t with my kitten. I was a version of me. It’s very weird how the mind correlates between version me and reality me. But I wasn’t me. 
I was heading home, in some light blue car I’ve never seen before, and all of a sudden, my sister wants a ride. 
Now, this was version-sister, not reality-sister. In reality, my sister isn’t a blonde-haired, blue-eyed porcelain doll come to life. 

Why Dream-Sister chose to come along, beats me. I don’t know. Can’t remember.

But for the first half of the Dream, it was pleasant. A road trip, killer music, the wind in my hair, the open road – the dream, my mind, was playing all the cards I like – it knows I’m seduced by the road. I must’ve been a nomad in my past life, before I was a domineering 18th Century Master with a cruel sadistic mind.
All of a sudden, I turn to her and say
‘Your cunt must be soaking wet’
All of a sudden, the dream shifts. We’re in a car, still on the road trip, but the mood has completely changed. She’s blushing, like an anime girl (more on that in a bit), and I’m reaching down through the gap in her denim skirt.
And I’m right. She IS dripping. 

Feeling how soaked you’ve made someone is right up there as being one of the best feelings, because it’s sexy on so many levels and because it’s a culmination of so many different things. I mean, yeah, it’s a bodily reaction, but on the same hand, you’re the reason why. It’s just a nice feeling. And a huge turn on.
I don’t remember the rest of the dream – but let’s dissect it a little.
I’ve already made sense of the romantic side in me being manipulated by my own brain. The brother-sister thing – that’s been a little fantasy of mine for ages, and a role play on a few occasions.
The appearance of my ‘sister’? I’ve been watching a lot of anime lately. More to the point, I’ve been binging Persona 5, a JRPG (Japanese Role Playing Game, for the uninitiated) and I do believe that a combination of one of my favourite characters, plus just a mix of characters from the fantasy-horror Berserk have melded to create my dream sister. 
Exhibit A: Ann from Persona 5.

Exhibit B: Farnese from Berserk.


So there you have it, between my love for road trips, acceptance of incest as a fantasy and my interest in anime, I’ve had a strange sexual dream merging all three.
As for why? Who knows. I don’t actively fantasise over these characters, though I do mentally register them as pretty. So who knows? That’s the mind for you. 

Care to share yours?  

Vibrations


Alice puts the controller down in frustration. She lost the match. Again. To the same team.

The game ends with her character being the final kill, rubbing it in, her controller vibrating to the explosion that caused her death.

The vibration rattles through her leggings and tickles her cunt. She starts, bothered by the reaction, flinging the sandy blonde hair out of her eyes.

She’s sitting alone in her bedroom, in nothing but a black singlet and black panties with the bat symbol on it. 

Her parents are out, celebrating their anniversary, and she’s left alone to pick up the chores. 

Instead she’s gaming. She can’t help it, the game is addicting.

Alice pauses, the dull ache tickling her still in her mind, and she starts up a custom game by herself. She’s got an idea.

Her character on screen, a pixie girl version of herself, pulls out a rocket launcher and fires. 
The vibration tickles her again. It lasts for a good five seconds as the rocket on screen flies out of sight.

Unable to help herself, she fires the rockets again, this time clutching the controller hard against her cunt.

She feels it more this time, and can’t help the moan that slips out of her lips. It feels good to moan out loud.

There have been too many times where she’s sat in her room, on her knees to her favourite pink toy, her face covered in sweat while her blonde hair is over her eyes — and she’s had to be quiet. 

Alice let out the moan. And another. Still firing the rockets. Again. And again.

She can smell herself now, sweet and potent. 

In a flash, she tears off her leggings and tosses them away.

Her scent is richer now, intoxicating. 

It might not be a good idea to put the controller to herself but she can’t resist the vibration. 

She fires the rockets with the edge of her Xbox controller against her. The vibration causes the edge to rock against her.

It almost slips in because she’s quite wet.

Alice steadies herself, and now comes to rest on her knees in her bedroom. 

She fires the rockets. She moans.

She fires the rockets. She moans.

Each time, she grows louder, more primal and unhinged.

With her free hand, she flings her singlet up and over. Her breasts fall free and straight into her free hand. 

She finds her nipple and squeezes. Then pulls. Then fires the rockets.

Her moaning, the rockets firing, it’s a sweet symphony, a beautiful melody. 

Her hips fall back — then push forward. The vibration meets her grind and fires.

Her hand pinches her nipple and stretches it.

The pain is sharp and red hot and then it’s gone. 

When she comes, she topples over, catching her fall with her free hand, which shoots out in front of her. 

She’s unusually loud, and in the back of her mind, she wonders if anyone heard her. 

And deeper yet, she wonders if she really cares or if she wanted them to hear.

Alice takes a moment to compose herself – and then decides to shower to clean up the mess she’s made. She comes again over what she just did. 
Fun Fact, No. 13:

It wasn’t too long ago I rested an Xbox controller over my cock and did a similar thing until I came hard. So I dedicate this to that spontaneous energy and delicious orgasm some may be familiar with. 

Hera, Ch. 1

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This is the ‘competition story’ that I have been working on
in my spare time.
Using the winner’s creative inputs for elements, I
got to work but ended up writing something
larger than I anticipated.

The following is a blend of my favourite things –
Science Fiction, BDSM, Horror and Thriller.
It is dark, twisted and weird.

If you’ve survived my stuff and enjoy it,
you may just enjoy this as well,
but might I request that you find a
quiet spot to get lost in the story?
You might just need it.
– TD&D

Chapter One

 

The Distress Call

 

 

Year: Twenty One Sixty Three

United Nations Star Freighter: Orion

Seven Months from Earth

Total Crew: Five

 

Captain: Alfred ‘Al’ Matthews

Med. Officer: Jodie Bronwyn

Science Officer: Brett Fredericks

Chief Engineer: Kadie Dawson

Navigator: Lucille ‘Lucy’ James

 

 

Kadie fell to the ground, sputtering out the fluid that went down the back of her throat.
The floor beneath her was like ice to her nude body, which glistened with the hyper sleep fluid she went to the dark in.
She blinked, her vision blurry with the thick fluid, and she wiped her blonde hair out of her eyes and over her ear. It left a trail of slime as it went.
Kadie could feel her nipples stiffening in reaction to the cold floor beneath her. The ache slid down to her stomach.
She could feel the coolness of the ship all around her body; it touched every inch of her pale skin, skimming from her hair down to her cunt, which she freshly shaved just before hyper sleep.
“Looks like the newbie’s first hyper sleep trip didn’t go so well” Came a voice to Kadie’s left.
Kadie looked to see Medical Officer Bronwyn, leaning against a set of lockers and fully nude, wearing a cream towel around her body.

Jodie Bronwyn was an attractive woman, thought Kadie. She was African-American, mid thirties. Joined the Orion at only twenty-three and has been here ever since.
As Kadie lay on the floor weak and frozen, her pale body blinding in the light, thanks to the hyper sleep fluid, she took in the sight of Bronwyn.
Her nipples glistened not only with hyper sleep fluid but also with a nipple piercing.
Suddenly Kadie felt very uncomfortable being naked in front of these people she had only known the past month during training.

Truth be told, she was uncomfortable with being nude in hyper sleep but was assured it was a safe and comfortable process.
“Everyone has a bad run their first time” Came another voice, a deeper voice.
Science Officer Fredericks came into view from Kadie’s right, drying his hair with another cream towel.
He was slightly tanned and muscular.
He regarded Kadie with his curious steely gaze as he dried his hair.
His cock, half erect and fully shaven, swayed with the movement of his body.
Bronwyn let out a laugh, throaty and infectious, and stretched out a hand for Kadie to grab onto.
As Kadie stood, her legs wobbled and she had to lean against a railing nearby to steady herself, much to the amusement of Bronwyn, who laughed not in a mean way but just in a teasing way you would to a close friend.
The voyage from her settlement on Proxima Centuri b to Earth was Kadie’s second time in hyper sleep and compared to the veteran travels of Orion’s crew, who charted the galaxy, she was indeed a newbie.
“Alright, Alright – Crew, get to the Dining Room in 15. We’ve got words to discuss”
Captain Matthews walked passed dressed in only faded green tracksuit pants. Kadie felt the sudden need to shield her breasts as he walked passed her.
“Hop in the shower, Newbie. You’ll feel all the better for it” Bronwyn said after Matthews disappeared out of the hyper sleep chambers.

 

Fifteen minutes later, Kadie appeared in the dining room, dressed in the green cargo pants of the Orion Crew uniform and a plain white T-shirt.
The shower made her feel human, awake. The slime was now gone, replaced with the refreshing scent of a lime scrub.
She looked around at the crew of the Orion.
The dining room of the Orion was a small circular room, with its own fridge, kitchen bench and sink located at the back of the room.
In the centre of the room was a circular metal table and around that was a booth, its maroon cushioned tearing apart at the seams.
Navigator Lucy was by the Kitchen bench pouring herself a coffee. She was the second youngest of the crew, three years above Kadie, who was twenty-six.
When Kadie entered the room, the crew didn’t regard her or stop and stare, they went about their own activities.
Fredericks and Bronwyn were continuing their game of Scrabble while Matthews was reading what was most likely an old newspaper.
Kadie took a seat beside Bronwyn who nudged her with a closed fist on the shoulder and giggled, “Feelin’ Fresh?”
The comment got Matthews to look up from his paper. His eyes met Kadie and that’s when he lowered his paper and cleared his throat.
“Now that Chief Engineer Dawson has joined us, we can begin discussing why the hell we’re awake.”
“Yeah, why the hell are we awake, Hoss” Bronwyn said, making her move on the Scrabble Board.
“Sister’s detected a distress signal,” Matthews said flatly.

Sister is the Star freighter’s AI. Every United Nations Star freighter has one.
Programmed and refined to not only match the mentality of the crew but also monitor their journey safely, the Sister AI was the latest in the state-of-the-art Artificial Intelligence designed by Earth Designer Charles Dean.
It is so named for it’s visual appearance and mental attributes of a nun, which is strange if you consider that it is responding to the existential belief of religion.
And yet the news was worrisome because Sister was designed to awaken the crew upon receiving a distress signal.
Bronwyn stopped moving her tiles and looked up. “Out here? In the ass end of nowhere?”
“Indeed.”
“What’s the origin of this…signal?” Fredericks asked, frowning.
Matthews cleared his throat, took a sip out of his own coffee and swallowed.
“No doubt some of you may have seen the blinking lights of the UN Star Freighter Scorpio out the right side of the ship.”
Kadie looked around the room, some nodded, while others, such as herself, had not seen it, having just woken up out of a funk.
“Needless to say, while you lot were showering, I was trying to raise the old bird. And nothing. At all. She’s quiet.”
The crew sat in silent a moment, reflecting, before Matthews interrupted it.
“We’re going out there, all hands on deck. I don’t know what’s going on, whether it’s starship troubles or mutiny or what. But I want everyone at the ready and I want that now, ASAP. We’re taking the beams so maybe hold off on breakfast for a short time, yeah?”
The crew laughed, all except Kadie, whose brown eyes creased in a frown.
Something was troubling her about this.

Moments later, the crew materialised inside the control room of the Scorpio.
Everything was quiet, save for the humming of the ship. It vibrated up Kadie’s body, tickling her cunt.
The room was entirely empty, with no sign of violence or any other activity.
Chairs and couches and even a dartboard on the wall showed no sign of wear and tear, no sign of activity. Nothing.
The crew were each wearing a protective suit, on the off chance of a chemical leak or other unforseen dangerous hazards. Their suits hissed as each of them took a breath.
Kadie stepped through the control room, listening to her own breathing in her ears. She could still taste the hyper sleep fluid in her mouth. It made her feel sick.
“Sister? Can you give me a status report?” Asked Matthews.
Nothing. The ship remained lifeless.
Kadie made her way to the terminal in the centre of the room. It was switched off and covered in blueprints of the ship.
She moved the blueprints to the floor and flicked the terminal on. It lit up with an audible click and came to life, buzzing.
“Dawson? What are you doing?”
“I’m manually seeing if Sister reported any faults or problems over the last however many hours the ship has been stationed here, Sir.”
Speaking felt weird to Kadie. It came to her just then that this was the first time she had spoken in two weeks. Her voice was croaky.

The terminal loaded to an empty black screen, save for a blinking cursor in the top left corner.
The crew gathered around Kadie, the screen lighting up their visors with a soft glow.
Kadie typed E35-S, which was the command “What’s the problem, Sister?”, and waited.
Nothing came back on the screen.
Kadie didn’t know what to do so she typed H66+A, which demanded a system report from the ship’s intelligence.
The crew waited in the low light of the command centre.
Nothing.
“Well, what the fuck is this?” Matthews said aloud. He had turned to Fredericks in his confusion.
“Well, she is an AI, Sir. Technical things always come with a room for error.”
“It’s ‘state-of-the-art’ though” Bronwyn replied.
She is. But as I just said, with anything, there is the possibility of an error, maybe even an infection in her update.”
Matthews looked around the room in silence. His suit hissed as he sighed.
“Well, let’s do a sweep. We’ve got to log this. All of this.”
He walked to the doorway that led out of the command centre.
“What a nightmare” He muttered.

The crew were voicing their opinions or voicing their agreements when Kadie had an idea.
She had to raise her voice to speak over the crew. “Sir?”
Matthews had to poke his head back in the doorway of the command centre, for he was already outside.
“Yes, Dawson?”
“I have an idea.”
“Oooh, the newbie has an idea,” Bronwyn said with a laugh.
Kadie felt her cheeks burn as Matthews told Bronwyn to can it.
“What is it, Dawson?” Matthews asked.
“Well, Sir..”
Kadie felt all eyes on her. It twisted her stomach. Or was that the hyper sleep fluid she ingested?
“Well, if we really want, we can reset Sister from the ship’s core. Maybe that can bring her back to a responsive state.”
Matthews regarded Kadie and then looked to Fredericks for confirmation.
“She’s right. We could do a manual reset and that may fix it.”
Kadie found herself pointing to the blueprints. “I can read those. I have a C class rating. We can find her core, Captain.”
Matthews laughed out of surprise. “Now I know why the council recommended you, Dawson. Let’s get you to the core.”

Kadie found her smiling – and then hoping no one, especially Bronwyn, caught it.
Bronwyn would never let it go.
Kadie could indeed read the blueprints and tracked the ship’s core down the opposite end of the hallway from the command centre.
Remembering her knowledge of UN Star Freighter’s from university, Kadie thumbed around the bottom of the wall before her and pressed inward.
This revealed the loose panel, which she pulled outward and, with the help of Matthews and Fredericks, she removed the panel to the floor.
“What now?” Fredericks asked. “Who do we decide goes in?”
By the time he finished his sentence, Kadie was pulling off the helmet of her protective suit.

James was the first to witness then and could only react by shouting “Are you insane?”
But the helmet was already on the floor.
The air was crisp. Cool. And the fact that she wasn’t immediately dead puzzled the rest of the crew.
“Dawson, you want to explain to me what you are doing?”
“Someone’s got to get into the core room. I’m the smallest and I’ve studied for this, both the layout of the ship and for a situation such as this”
Kadie spoke as she was pulling the rest of her suit down and stepping out of it, revealing her thin white panties and t-shirt.
Matthews looked to the rest of the crew for affirmation but they just shrugged. Even Fredericks.
Kadie kicked aside her protective suit and looked to Matthews.
“Fine. Just get it done and get back here. We’ve still got a sweep to do.”
Kadie met his gaze and nodded before turning to the small square shape in the wall.

Her heart was pounding in her ears, she found, and she wasn’t one for tight spaces but someone had to do it.
Kadie went in head first, making sure to lower her back as she squeezed her lower body under the open grate and into the wall.
The space was just enough for her to wiggle her body through the wall.
Ahead of her she could see faint light – Sister’s AI core.
All around her was the humming of the ship. It vibrated every inch of her body, tickling
her all over.
The wall space on her knees was tough, rubbing tightly against her bones, like crawling against bare concrete.
The light ahead got closer and closer, until Kadie found herself in a cool circular room.
She noted the fans on the wall, one for every two panels across the length of it.
In the room was a metallic tubular shaft, lit up with blue lights that blinked in a sequence with each other.
That must be it, Kadie thought. Now to just –

Something wet and heavy smacked her across the head and her world went dark.

To be continued another time…

 

 

12 Days of BDSM Christmas 2016 – Day #3: The Voice In The Darkness

 

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The first thing she noticed about the blog was that it had a pull over her.
She had read many blogs lately, some came and went, others were very informative – but this….this was something else.
There was a pull about this one, something that made her feel as if she was gravitating towards something larger than her, larger than the world around her.
In an entire sitting, she devoured this blog. Devoured it while she sat in her room, alone and nude, propped up on one shoulder while stretching her right nipple slightly to dull the building ache.
She read the entire blog – every article, every story, everything from journals to little comments after the journals.
Spent, she collapsed into a deep sleep, leaving the real world behind in a blur.

She awoke in a daze. Something was knocking at her bedroom door. It came in three loud waves. One….two……three.
She climbed out of bed, dazed and confused, one arm shielding her breasts.
By the time she opened the door, she was wondering why she didn’t put pants on at least. What if it was an emergency? A break in? Why would the burglars knock? She was still sleep drunk.
When she opened the door, she flicked on the light of the bedroom. It lit up her apartment hallway. Nothing was there.
Maybe it was a dream, thought She, and she flicked the light off, closed the door and crawled back into bed. Back into the sea of dreams.

Dreams are funny things. How they shift and change, how the duration of one feels like it can last a lifetime.
She dreamt a man was chasing her, whose features she could not describe, for they were shielded in darkness.
Her dream would be normal, she’d be at her family for Christmas Dinner and she’d go to the toilet. But then the toilet window would open and elongated legs would slip through, revealing a tall gaunt man. Handsome and yet she couldn’t quite see all of him. All of his body or all of his face.
“Let me in” Came a voice, a growl, from somewhere around the toilet and she would panic and leave the toilet.

 For the duration of this dream, the scenery would change but the situation would end up the same. She was celebrating Christmas, she needed to go to the toilet but the man would appear. Sometimes through the window, sometimes before her, looking at her and how her panties lay twisted and crumpled at her feet while she tried to urinate.

“Let me in” would come the voice, hoarse, unrecognizable.

She came to in a start. Jerking, as if she fell through the bathroom floor.
The time on her clock read 3:09am.
Another twitch washed over her body and then she urinated. Her body muscles gave way, gave in to the relief, the deliciousness. She found herself paralysed with sleep, but also with relief, as she felt her sheets becoming warm and wet.
And that’s when she felt the bed sink, as something else carried its weight over to.
She sat up in fear but the dark shape that was forming at the foot of her bed held her down by her neck.
Her vision was forced to the ceiling as she felt something like smoke wash over thighs.
Then something formed, she felt cheeks. She felt a nose.
A tongue, hot and wet, slid up her urine soaked cunt, from her ass to the top of her slit. And she quivered.
A noise came out of her, a moan crossed with a scream, as the tongue left no corner of her cunt untouched.
Her head seemed to sink back into the pillow, beyond the material, and she fell between worlds.

It was Christmas all of a sudden. And she was upstairs, looking through her bag for photos of her recent holiday to Disneyland to show her family.
Except something had gone wrong. There was a man, somehow, that had convinced her that she should undress.
She lay with her bedroom door open, her breasts exposed, her dress hitched up and her Mickey Mouse panties pulled aside, as the man was sucking on her clit.
She knew she had to be quiet, because her father was up stairs as well, asleep.
She could hear the man rifling through her bag and suddenly she felt lace skim across her belly, across her arms and before she could compose her thoughts further, this man was stuffing her panties into her mouth.
She choked on her own scent, could taste it vividly.
“All you have to do is let me in” came the voice, hoarse and frightening.
Shame washed over her as pleasure built up in her cunt. She enjoyed the taste of herself, despite an uneasy fear in the back of her mind.
When her boyfriend stepped through the doorway, she couldn’t stop moving. She couldn’t stop squirming her cunt into the man’s mouth. Every lick from his tongue felt ridiculous.

She awoke feeling like a weight was crushing her. Her hands were held down while something hot and wet slid her nipple into its mouth.
“You’ve started to open the door now, you can’t get rid of me.”
She tried to form words but just a gasp of ait came out, a squeak. She was utterly powerless.
“I can show you how to live deliciously…”

She was lying in a room of blinding light. She came to realise she was naked.
Cicadas were humming loudly outside and she realised she was back at her parents during Christmas.
“You slept a long while” came a voice she recognised instantly.
“Daddy?” She said, suddenly feeling the need to cover herself.
Except he was already beside her, pressed into her. She could feel his cock skimming against her ass as he lay behind her.
He stopped her from pulling the sheet over herself.
“Have you ever had a dream where you are fucking a family member?” He said, musing.
She shook her head, denying it. It was wrong.
“People don’t want to admit to that. But it comes out, you know. I always bring out what people want.”
As her Daddy said this, he tugged on her nipples.
It had been some time since someone stretched them to breaking point and now her Daddy was doing so.
She squeaked out a response, frozen in place.
“I trust you remember the time you peeped through the keyhole of the shower. Curiosity was it?”
She shook her head as she felt her Daddy’s cock stiffening.
“Was it?”
He tugged on her nipple harder, twisting it. The pain was immense.
“Kids are curious I suppose, but then you never lost it as an adult”
On the word ‘Adult’, he squeezed and she leapt out of bed.
Time seemed to stutter. Her Daddy’s cock was in her mouth, warm and salty, with the faintest taste of sweat. She felt like gagging but also the need to fulfil her daughterly duty. As if she could be herself in this…

 “What you don’t understand is that I see you for who you are”
The voice in the darkness was smooth, velvety.
It came out like a whisper. Maybe you know the sensation, when you swallow a piece of sweet dark chocolate, or a sip of your favourite alcohol. It goes down smooth, gentle, easing, like the voice. But there’s a promise of.
She was on her stomach, her ass propped up in the air.
“Now Let. Me. In.”

She had always wondered about her co-worker’s sexuality.
But when she invited her over for Christmas drinks, she knew, for certain.
When her co-worker took off her coat and revealed her low cut dress beneath, there was a vibe, resounding and strong.
When the two were sitting on the couch, her co-worker had asked her, “What is it you want? What else lies hidden deep in your mind?”
She felt her cunt tighten and contract, hoping against hope that she would undress.
The stutter of the dream world skipped and her co-worker was sitting on her lap, kissing her face, her neck.
She didn’t resist even though she had a boyfriend that took care of her every need. She was, after all, bisexual, and it had been sometime since she had felt that touch.
The woman made their way to the bedroom, tearing off their clothes.
Fuck, she had never seen a more beautiful woman. It’s like this dream made her realise just how hot for her, she really was.
Her co-worker knelt above her, her small breasts kissed by freckles all around.
She wrinkled her nose and smiled down at her, before lowering her mouth on her cunt.

 Her cunt tightened as she came, overwhelming emotion smacked her across the face, traveling down her thighs. The dark hand that had been rubbing her slit did not cease movement and she screamed, wondering if it made a difference at all to anyone outside of her house.
She came again. And again, the sensitivity building up within her until she was squirting across the bed in thick short bursts.
When the hand finally withdraws, she collapsed in her soaking sheets, panting and sobbing.
That’s when she felt hot breath over her ears.
“You invited me in, I came. Now…I own you. I live here.”
Something tugged on her hair and pain shot through her entire weakened body.
“I will call again, when you least expect it. And do not deny me”
And then the dark velvety voice was gone, leaving her to the silence.
She sobbed.

 

 

Author’s Notes

This story is part supernatural / part psychology of dreams. What are your dreams of a sexual nature like? What do they say about you? I mean, to a lesser extent that is what I am writing about.
This piece is primarily about how writing can infect your mind and your subconscious, mixed with my fascination with horror of course. The lead character is tormented by an entity, forced to urinate and undergo a series of too-real sensations involving perversions in her life, regarding her dad and co worker.
What I wanted to do with this piece was arouse first and foremost but I also hope I’ve had some dwell on their naughty dreams and the significance behind them. Maybe, just maybe, there’s a truth for you to discover that could very well lead to an epiphany!

-TD&D