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The Psychology of Dreams 101 Episode 15

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Welcome to the next instalment of The Psychology of Dreams 101, in which Leah tries to stay awake.

What if you got punished when you didn’t get your dreams right? That’s the dilemma our heroin, Leah, and her psychology of dreams teacher, Al. The Psychology of Dreams 101 is a romp into the sexy unconscious as Leah Kent takes a Psychology of Dreams adult education class, only to discover that the required Dream Journal leads to some seriously kinky night journeys.

 

If you missed episode 14, find it here.

 

 

 

Chapter 15 Staying Awake

“Dream with you one last time? Are you crazy?” The chair went over backward as Leah pushed away from him and edged toward the door shaking her head wildly. “Wasn’t that enough?” She nodded to his dream journal. “Do you really want to end up like Diana and Doctor Clyde? I sure as hell don’t. I couldn’t get out, Al. I couldn’t get out of the goddamned dream until I killed you and Doctor Clyde. What will I have to do to get out of it this time?”

“Leah, listen to me, it won’t be like that — ”

“No! Al, I’m sorry but I can’t. I just can’t.” She threw the door open and fled leaving her dream journal where it had fallen. The damn thing had caused her more grief that she could have ever imagined. She hoped to God she never saw it again.

She drove around the city for a long trying to clear her head, trying to get the thought of what she and Al might do if they dreamed together out of her mind. If it was good, it would be really good, probably deliciously filthy sex. But even great sex wasn’t worth the risk of what could happen if things went bad. Lost in her thoughts as she was, she hadn’t noticed that she’d turned onto US 26 and was now heading up over Mount Hood. Jer stomach summersaulted as she realized she was going to the campground where Al had taken her, that she was going there almost on instinct. For a second she was terrified that this was something Al and Doctor Clyde were forcing her into, and she was still dreaming. But it was broad daylight. The sun was shining, and she was wide-awake. She was certain she was awake.

She pulled into the campground where they had been together in the dream. It seemed so normal in the sunlight. She got out of the car and walked to the place where they had nearly made love. In spite of the nightmarish turn of events, she still tingled at the thought of what could have happened if the dream had been like her fantasies of Al, the ones she’d masturbated to at night alone in her bed. But it hadn’t. For a long time she sat on the grass and listened to the sound of the water flowing over the rocks. Then she got back into her car and drove to Eddie’s Diner.

When she arrived, the lunch crowd had long gone, and there were only a few stragglers dotted throughout the cheerful space serviced by one lone waitress – not the one who had been working in the dream. There were no familiar faces, nor did she expect there to be. She sat in the same booth she’d been in with Al and ordered a Diet Coke and a burger basket, which she ate for courage as much as anything. Once she’d eaten, she’d go back to the Adult Education building and withdraw from the class. She hated the thought of not seeing Al anymore, but there was no way in hell she was going to dream with him, and he didn’t strike her as a man who would take no for an answer – not after all that had happened. By the time she’d finished the last of her fries and paid, she’d made up her mind that she’d just call the administration office, then she didn’t have to go back at all. That was better still, and it took a lot less courage.

Back home, the first thing she did was withdraw from the class, sighting personal reasons. It didn’t take long, then she said a little prayer to all the gods she could think of that she’d never dream again. She didn’t want to dwell on Al, on all of the delicious places her fantasies had led her during her few weeks in the class. She didn’t want to think about where things might have gone if the damn dream hadn’t gotten in the way. But more than anything, she didn’t want to dream ever again.

By the time she’d cancelled the class, she still had hours before bedtime, so she settled in front of her computer with coffee and a Snickers bar. She never came to the end of her work. That was just the way of things, but she was more than a little surprised to find that, while there was the usual avalanche waiting for her, it was nothing out of the ordinary, nothing she didn’t face every morning when she settled into her desk for the day.

It did something to her head to think that while it felt like she’d been away for ages, it had only been one night. She’d woken up in the morning just like she always did. She wasn’t Rip Van Winkle who had slept for twenty years while the world around her went on. She wasn’t sleeping beauty sleeping forever until the handsome prince could kiss her awake. She wasn’t Diana, who had stayed in the dream and died in a coma. She was just someone who’d had the hell scared out of her from the craziest nightmare in the history of nightmares. That was all, just insane nightmares. She tried not to think about how the whole debacle in the dream world ended up in Al’s dream journal instead of her own. She tried not to think about the implications of the two of them dreaming together. She knew he must be excited about the possibilities, but she most certainly was not.

For the first time, she was thankful for the heavy workload, thankful that there was no way she would get it finished. As bedtime came, she decided she wasn’t sleepy and that she would work another hour. She made coffee and kept at the computer. Another hour past, then two. She ordered a pizza from the all-night place that had just opened up the road. By the time it arrived, she was no longer working, but had settled down on the sofa to watch a movie before she went to bed. One movie turned into a marathon and when her alarm went off at 7:00, she was just watching the last of The Truth About Dogs and Cats. She was still not sleepy, she convinced herself. She had lots to do. She showered and went grocery shopping, then she cleaned the kitchen and the bathroom. While she was at it, she vacuumed the whole house. No, she was definitely not sleepy. It was a good time to take advantage of all the energy and do the things she’d been putting off.

By evening, the house was spotless, the laundry clean and folded, the larder full to overflowing and the car was washed and detailed. She’d even cleaned out her closet. She slouched on the sofa listlessly channel surfing with the remote in one hand and a half-drank Diet Coke in the other. Sleep was inevitable, and even as she longed for it, she dreaded it. If she dozed on the couch with the TV on maybe she wouldn’t dream, maybe she wouldn’t get comfortable enough to go to that unwanted place – with or without Al. Still, no matter how uncomfortable she made herself, she couldn’t keep from nodding off, then jerking back into consciousness with her heart pounding in her chest as she drank more caffeine and doubled her efforts with the remote. It happened once, then again, and then the third time, it was the ringing of the doorbell that dragged her back to consciousness with a little yelp of surprise. Feeling muzzy-headed from lack of sleep and her body’s efforts to force the issue, she stumbled to the door before she considered who it might be, a mistake she regretted when she saw it was Al.

“They told me in admin that you’d dropped the class.”

When she only nodded, he sucked a deep breath and squared his shoulders. “Leah, please don’t shut me out. Just listen for a second.”

“I’m not dreaming with you and that’s that.” She turned away from the open door, and he followed her in, shutting it behind him.

“Then make love with me.”

She whirled to face him unable to do more than offer a couple of fish gasps before he closed on her, took her into his arms and kissed her softly enough not to feel threatening, hard enough, insistent enough, to get her body’s full attention.

“Al I –”

He kissed her again, this time with just a flick of his tongue. “Sh! Don’t talk, just listen. Haven’t we both wanted each other almost from the beginning? I mean the dream we shared wasn’t all about Derrick and Diana, some of it was about our attraction to each other, about us never quite being able to connect because he kept interrupting us – Derrick’s I mean. He kept insisting that neither of us would get any satisfaction, any relief until we were punished.” He curled a finger under her chin and forced her to meet his gaze. “I think we’ve both been punished more than enough, don’t you?”

“It was a dream, Al. You said it yourself, Doctor Clyde is dead.” She laid a hand on his chest, pretty sure she should have pushed him away, but instead she just left it there next to the pounding of his heart.

“Maybe so. Maybe I did think I deserved to be punished on some unconscious level, maybe I projected my feelings of guilt onto you. I don’t know. What I do know is that this dream, because it belonged to both of us, is way too complex to analyze by the book. Besides dream symbols often have more than one meaning.” He kissed her again and f7c97536836dc44ea7a1faaa02ab1a6apulled her close enough that she could feel his erection. “I’ve been punished. You’ve been punished, and we both know that the reason we agreed to endure Derrick’s hypnosis was because we were horny as hell and not getting any relief. I think we can remedy that now, don’t you?”

Suddenly she was wide-awake. Leah had to admit she wanted Al in the worst way. It was her crush on him that had caused her to enroll in his class in the first place. But she’d certainly gotten way more than she’d ever bargained for. Even that went out of her head as he slid his hands up under her t-shirt and down into the waistband of her sweat pants to cup her ass cheeks in a large calloused caress. Wide-awake! She was definitely wide-awake! She was worse that a teenager where sex was concerned. She got it so seldom, and on those days when she was particularly horny, she was pretty damn good at keeping sex for one going as long as her fantasies held out, and that was awhile. Many of those fantasies, she reminded herself, were about Al. Oh yes! She could stay awake for this.

 

The Psychology of Dreams 101

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After a short hiatus, The Psychology of Dreams 101 is back, as we prepare for the race up to the end, Leah wakes up and discovers that in the waking world, as in the dream world, things are not always what they seem.

What if you got punished when you didn’t get your dreams right? That’s the dilemma our heroin, Leah, and her psychology of dreams teacher, Al. The Psychology of Dreams 101 is a romp into the sexy unconscious as Leah Kent takes a Psychology of Dreams adult education class, only to discover that the required Dream Journal leads to some seriously kinky night journeys.

 

 

If you’ve missed Episode 12, find it here. 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 13 Waking Up

Leah woke with the loud gasp of a drowning person desperate for on last breath. Frantically she shoved damp sheets away from her sweat-soaked body and, before her mind could truly focus on what had just happened, she found herself standing naked and trembling by the side of her bed, the bed in which she was blessedly alone.

“Al?” she called cautiously. “Dr. Clyde?” she grabbed up the robe from the peg on the back of the door and wriggled into it. Morning light poured in through the bedroom window still anemic enough that she knew if was early. She stood holding her breath, waiting for either Clyde or Al to burst from the bathroom with a new surprise from the dream world. She stood for another long moment waiting for reality to shift around her as it did in the world of dreams. When it didn’t, she moved cautiously to the bathroom and peed. It was only when she washed her hands at the sink that she realized for the first time in a long time, she wasn’t horny. And then she remembered, she’d killed both of her lovers just before she woke up – pushed them both off the roof of a skyscraper, the same skyscraper Diana had jumped off of in Dr. Clyde’s dream, in the dream he shared with Al. She plopped down on the edge of the tub as the whole dream came rushing back to her.

When she was certain her legs would support her again, she padded to the kitchen and made coffee while she struggled to sort what had been a dream and what had been real, still half expecting the landscape around her to change mid step or Al or Clyde, maybe even both, to pop out of the pantry and inform her that she would have to take her punishment if she wanted to get out of the dream. But why did she need to be punished? She’d done nothing. The two of them might have messed up – well Dr. Clyde certainly had, but she hadn’t. She hadn’t even known them until recent events – whatever the hell recent events were. Was it possible that even her memories of taking Al’s Psychology of Dreams class were just dreams. Jesus! Her head hurt. How could she figure out what was real and what wasn’t? And what if even now she was dreaming?

She made toast and had another cup of coffee with nothing more unusual happening than a text pinged over from her mother to see if they were still on for Sunday lunch. Surely she wouldn’t dream that, would she? Checking back through texts and emails, she found nothing unusual, nothing out of the ordinary, and then she remembered the dream journal. In her bedroom it lay on the nightstand where she always left it. She sat down on the edge of the bed and, with trembling hands, opened it. She opened it, then flipped through it, then turned it upside down and shook it and checked to see if any pages had been torn out. They hadn’t. The dream about the dog in the McDonald’s taking her dark moon image_xl_6338206Big Mac was there. So was the one about the talking snake along with the dream about planting begonias in front of the convenience store. Even the dream about catching Al masturbating in the shower in the men’s locker room was there, though in it she’d not stated specifically who was masturbating in the shower. Surely she could be given that much privacy. Beyond that, however, the journal was empty. There was no message from her unconscious about being beautiful when she dreamed, no message about needing to be punished until she got it right. There was no long dream sequence written while Dr. Clyde slept in the bed next to her. So then, was she to believe that everything until this morning had been just a dream, that she’d gone to bed the night after writing about Al masturbating and then all the rest of the dreams were a result of her following his advice for setting an alarm to help remember dreams? Had it really worked that well? If so, if what she had dreamed was any indication, well she’d just as soon not remember her dreams after all. She shivered at the thought of pushing Dr. Clyde and Al off the roof and watching them fall endlessly.

Still half expecting to open a door and find herself back in the dream, she showered and dressed and drove to the Adult Education Center, driving around the block a couple of times before she got the courage to park and go inside. That made her nearly late for Al’s class. She grabbed the first seat in the back of the room as much as anything because the sight of Al standing behind his desk speaking of the handouts on dream symbolism he had in one arm made her knees weak. Besides that, she suddenly wanted very much to avoid his attention. While a part of her wanted to confront him about her dream experience, to ask questions and find out if maybe he knew what the hell had happened, another part of her hoped never to dream again. She was toying with the idea of dropping the class even. She was here of her own free will. Surely she could leave of her own free will as well. After all, she’d paid for the class, hadn’t she?

As he drew nearer, she held her breath and sat stiffly, trying to hide her nervous trembling. He didn’t seem to notice if she was nervous or not. In fact, he didn’t seem to notice her at all as approached her desk talking to the group about Freud’s view on dreams and symbols as opposed to Jung’s. He gave her the handout without even glancing at her and, just as she released the breath she’d been holding, just when she slumped into the seat with relief, he stopped turned back to her and said in a voice barely more than a whisper. “Leah, you need to see me after class.” He didn’t sound particularly pleased about it.

Her heart bumped in her chest and she wiped sweaty palms on her jeans. She opened her mouth to tell him she couldn’t see him, to lie to him, to tell him she was busy, to make any excuse she could think of, but he didn’t give her the chance. He moved on and kept right on talking about Freud and Jung as he walked back to the front of the class and settled into lecture mode, every once in awhile glancing at her as though he was keeping an eye on her, as though he expected her to misbehave at any moment. That was the only thing that kept her from slipping out the back door and never coming back.

She didn’t hear a word of his lecture; she didn’t hear anything but the beating of her own heart as she pretended to take notes, doodling in the margins of her dream journal. In fact, she thought the class itself might have been a dream when after what seemed like only a few minutes, or possibly an eternity, she heard an impatient clearing of the throat and looked up with a start to find the classroom empty and Al standing over her, hands folded across his chest. “Come with me,” he said without preamble. “My office is just down the hall.” He didn’t wait for her, didn’t look back to see if she was following. She was, of course. She didn’t want to, but she suddenly realized she really did want to know what the hell was going on and he was the only one she knew who could help her find some answers.

At the end of the hall, he opened an unmarked door and motioned her in. It was a tiny space with a small pine desk and a cheap-assed armless office chair. The walls were bare and the desk buried in books and papers. He nodded to a single orange chair in front of the desk. “Sit down. We need to talk.” Before she could comply, he said. “I need to know how the hell you’ve managed to get into my dreams.”

“What?”

f7c97536836dc44ea7a1faaa02ab1a6a   He grabbed a brown leather-bound journal from the detritus on the desk and shoved it at her, then nodded her to open it.

With trembling hands, she opened it to the page marked by the chord bookmark. For a moment, her eyes refused to focus, and when they did, she wished like hell they hadn’t.

You’re beautiful when you dream. You’re beautiful when you dream. You’re beautiful when you dream. Over and over again it was written until it filled half the page and then, the dream began.

I pushed them both over the edge, Al and Dr. Clyde, over the edge to chase Diana, to make their peace with the dead and with the living. Whether or not they’ll wake up, I don’t know. I just know there’s no other way out.

The room tilted around her as though she were suddenly on the deck of a ship and above the sudden flutter of wings in her ears, she heard Al ask again, “how did you get into my dreams, Leah?”

 

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Rachel Morgan lives every woman’s fantasy with her four cowboy husbands. Each man exemplifies something she’s always wanted in a man, and they treat her like a queen. As they approach their five year wedding anniversary, the guys have asked her what she’d like to do to celebrate, but she’s nervous about telling them the truth. It’s insane to want to be chased again, right?

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The Beauty and the Badass

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From the moment Alexei Miles sets eyes on the kickboxing instructor at his new gym, he’s enthralled. She’s strong and sexy, and he senses something in her that speaks to his deepest desires. Bored of meaningless one-night stands, Alexei vows to find out more about the beautiful badass. He hopes his senses are correct—that her desires will match his own, and that his period of unsatisfying sexual encounters is over.

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Secrets & Lies

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Meg’s love life was missing a spark until she discovered her need to be dominated. When her fiancé shared the same kink, she thought all her birthdays had come at once, and then she came to learn their relationship was one big fat lie.

Gabe has loved Meg for years, watching her from afar, and always wishing he’d been the one to date her first and not his brother. When he has the chance to have Meg in his bed—even better, tied to it—it’s an opportunity he can’t refuse.

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Can Gabe make Meg realize she’s the one woman he’s always wanted? But once secrets and lies have wormed their way into a relationship, is it impossible to establish the firm base of trust needed between lovers, and more importantly, between sub and Sir…?

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Sizzle

By: McKinlay Thomson

Elisa is a shy, quiet, bookish woman with one huge problem. She has a crush on the hot Dom living next door and he doesn’t even know she exists.

Alex knows his curvy little neighbor watches him over the fence. He would like nothing more than to bang on her door, drag her back to his place, and show her he has just the right toys to keep them both satisfied well into the night.

When Alex and Elisa finally come together could a threat from his past derail their budding romance or will their desire continue to sizzle.

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Club Ménage: Fifi

By: Tara Crescent

Something’s wrong at Club Ménage…

After escaping an abusive relationship with her dominant, Fiona Clarke swore off submission for life. But when the private investigator is hired to solve a case of blackmail at the secretive Club Ménage, she finds that she hasn’t managed to leave her past behind.

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Binding Her To Him

(Dupree Investigations)

By: TL Reeve

Kennedy Le Roche, is on a mission.

A new drug has hit the streets of Reserve, Louisiana, and it is claiming victims at an alarming pace. The only clue she has is a BDSM Club on the outskirts of town. As a submissive, she’ll go undercover to ferret out who’s distributing the drug. But, there’s a catch.

Phoenix Dupree, is a police consultant by day and a Dominant by night.

When the police chief shares a case of utmost importance with him, he takes it. What he isn’t expecting is the identity of his submissive for the night, Kennedy Le Roche.

Feelings long since dormant resurface. Can Kennedy and Phoenix work together or will old wound prove to be too deep?

This is a bondage/restraint story and of lost love.

http://authortlreeve.blogspot.com/

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Kaise: A White Card Story

By: Jade Belfry

Will this cold attorney allow the flames of passion to melt her heart of stone? Kaise didn’t want love and certainly didn’t have time for sex. That is, until she loses a major case and her trusted assistant all on the same day. Feeling sorry for herself and fortified by drink, she dials a secret number given to her by a friend. Things heat up when the call connects and she reaches an ultra-exclusive team of sexual trainers that are about to show her everything she never knew that she’s been missing. Including perhaps the old flame she’s never forgotten.

This story features temperature play in a BDSM setting.

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Professor Knows Best

By: Juliet Braddock

Professor Justin Langford is on a mission to teach his star student Sloane Bradford a few lessons in her deepest, dirtiest fantasies. However, the last thing he needs is another college girl.

After a miscommunication separates them, fate reunites the reluctant lovers.

From swing sets to sex shops, Justin challenges Sloane to embrace a life filled with sippy-cups and spankings. Sloane has much to learn if she’s still intent on being his prized pupil.

Will Justin manage to control her rising brat enough to transform Sloane into Daddy’s Little Girl?

This story contains elements of age play and Daddy-Daughter roleplay.

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Deprived

By: Jordan Ashley

Heather Ross vowed after a decade of being controlled by her husband that she would never trust her heart with someone again. That is until her best friend moves in to help her through being a single mom. His gentle, playful nature made her remember what she always wanted in a man, waking desires she thought long buried deep in her soul.

Jack Stevens never imagined that moving in with Heather every fantasy and dream he’d concocted to get him through lonely nights would come true. The day Heather confessed her desire for him Jack swore he would use every tool in his arsenal learned as a Dom to help her trust him completely even with his own lingering skeletons.

Can Heather learn to trust Jack when she has been deprived of her true desires for too long?

Grab your tissues and learn to trust again with passionate sensory play.

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Electric

By: C.P. Mandara

“I am going to break you. That’s the whole purpose of this exercise. From the moment the door inside that room closes, I am not going to be Mr. Nice Guy. I am going to do everything in my power to hear you scream, and I won’t stop until I hear you beg for mercy. Do you wish to proceed on that basis?”

Today my name is Lois Reeves. I have an appointment with dominant “James Leverett” this morning, because my next assignment requires that I be a “submissive” and I have no idea what that entails. I’m about to find out… by jumping in at the deep end.

This story features medical edge play and electricity play.

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The Psychology of Dreams 101 Part 12

Psychology of Dreams cover12985576_1537272663241009_8777292825525497968_nAfter a week’s hiatus in which I was 30,000 feet above the Greenland — at least for part of it, I’m happy to offer a new episode of The Psychology of Dreams 101. When last we left our intrepid dreamers, a strap-on-clad Leah had just taken charge. As we near the climax of our tale (you see what I did there 😉 Leah does way more than take charge by taking a risk that may cost them all dearly.

What if you got punished when you didn’t get your dreams right? That’s the dilemma our heroin, Leah, and her psychology of dreams teacher, Al. The Psychology of Dreams 101 is a romp into the sexy unconscious as Leah Kent takes a Psychology of Dreams adult education class, only to discover that the required Dream Journal leads to some seriously kinky night journeys.

 

 

If you’ve missed Episode 11, find it here. 

 

 

Chapter 12 Into the Abyss

Leah felt Al’s guttural groan against the dildo, the vibration of which penetrated deep behind her pubic bone, the urgent sound of his need penetrating her as surely as she planned to penetrate him and, she realized for the first time that she would penetrate him, that she could actually do it. Not only could she, but she wanted to, needed to if she were ever to escape the dream. But the sound of his growing arousal was enough to shift her attention from what Al was doing to the strap-on to what Dr. Clyde was now doing to Al’s ass. He knelt on the floor behind him, hunched at an unnatural angle because of Al’s position in front of her. To accommodate Clyde’s efforts, Al had lifted his buttocks as high as he could and still continue his ministrations to her dildo. Clyde spat onto his fingers and teased and worried Al’s tight backside with little circular strokes and tiny intimations of breaching. With the other hand, he caressed and kneaded Al’s butt cheeks, easing them apart to expose more fully the dark clench and release.

“Al was my lover once,” Clyde said, his voice thick with arousal, even in his efforts to sound matter-of-fact. “Did he tell you that? Did he tell you we were lovers before Diana?”

Al flinched and his jaws tightened around the dildo until the muscles below his cheekbone twitched, and Leah was glad the strap-on was not flesh and blood.

“No. No he didn’t tell me that,” she replied, cupping Al’s face, stroking his cheek until he relaxed, until the tension left his shoulders, and he resumed his efforts. Clearly the good doctor’s little reveal was something Al didn’t really want discussed.

“Not that it matters,” she said, curling her fingers in Al’s hair again, this time more gently. “I’m not one to judge people by their pasts.”

“We were good together. Our situation was ideal,” Clyde continued. “Until Diana came between us. We both wanted her, didn’t we Al?”

Al didn’t respond but doubled his efforts against the dildo, and once again she stroked him, this time along his neck and throat. But Clyde kept talking in spite of Al’s discomfort – maybe because of it.

“You see, ours was just a relationship of convenience. We provided a much-needed service to each other, and it didn’t hurt that it was really good, did it Al?”

She wished Clyde would shut up, but he continued. “As you can imagine, we didn’t have much of a life, either of us. There was no time for it with our research. Then one night, we stayed over at the facility. Well actually it was closer to morning than it was night. We dreamed together. That was the first time we realized we could, and it was hotter than hell – the dream was, I mean, and we were in it together. It was the most amazing foreplay you can imagine, Leah, because there are no limits to what you can do in a dream. You can be Superman. You can fly, you can breathe beneath water; you can even have two cocks if it strikes your dream fancy. And when we came out of it, well we all but fucked each other’s brains out. You can’t imagine what it felt like, really you can’t.”

It certainly wasn’t the dream-sharing package she was having, Leah thought. In her dream there was no satisfaction to be had, and she was stuck with these two guilt riddled bastards and the ghost of Diana. Speaking of …

“Diana, well she was a grad student in biology.” Clyde continued. “It was love at first sight for both of us, wasn’t it Al? We both fantasized about what it would be like to dream with her, what the sex would be like afterwards. It became an obsession, I suppose, maybe even a little bit of a competition to see who could get her attention. Of course in the meantime, we were fucking each other just to, you know, get rid of all that tension.” He offered a little chuckle tinged with bitterness that Leah could almost taste. “I was the one who decided to tell her about our experiments, about the sex, about how powerful the dream was. Well,” he said softly, “you know how persuasive I was. I had no trouble getting her to dream with me. The problem was getting her to stop. Getting her to stop …” He shoved a finger home hard and dark moon image_xl_6338206Al flinched. Leah decided it was time to take back control.

“Shut up Clyde. I don’t care if the two of you fucked a whole damn football team in your bloody research. All I care about is getting out of this goddamned dream. Al stand up,” she commanded.

He pulled away, stumbling to his feet, his hand resting protectively against his erection. She kissed him hard and deep and demanding until he yielded and gasped into her mouth, and she heard Clyde’s mirroring gasp in reply. Then she took Al’s hand and guided him, trousers still down around his knees, to bend over the desk. She carefully positioned him so that his arms were stretched above his head, fingers curled around the far end of the desk, his hips jutting over the opposite end enough so that his cock wasn’t trapped beneath his body. She grabbed Clyde by the hair and tugged him, still on his knees to kneel behind Al. “Now then, I asked you to make him ready. I didn’t ask you to hurt him. Nor did I ask for your commentary.” She nodded to Al’s exposed backside. “Go on. If the two of you were lovers, then you know what to do, what he’ll like, what will make it easier for him to accomodate me and enjoy me. And Clyde, I don’t give a shit if this is your dream of not. As long as you’re here, I will punish you if you disobey me again.” To emphasize her point, she gave him a brisk thwak across his half-exposed dapper ass with the flogger, making sure he felt the sting. He gasped and grabbed at his crotch, and she admired the bright pink welts she had somehow known exactly how to administer.

“Don’t touch your cock,” she said. “Do as I say or I’ll see that you never get any satisfaction in this dream.”

The man flinched as though she had gut punched him, and she suddenly got it. She totally got it. “That’s it, isn’t it, Clyde? You haven’t had any satisfaction since your last big dream encounter, have you?”

His lack of a reply was all the answer she needed. “And that’s why you’re so eager to help Al and me with our little dream dilemma. He struggled to meet her gaze, color blazing across his cheeks, but he said nothing.

“Well then, if you’re here, you’ll do as I say and we’ll all hope for the best.”

And just like that, the good doctor got down to some serious rimming, and the stretching of his cock confirmed his enjoyment as well as Al’s, who arched his back until his bottom was high in the air, hips shifting and thrusting back against Clyde’s laving tongue and forward against the empty space between his cock and the desk.

“Surely there must be a better place to punish him, to punish both of you, than on your classroom desk, Al,” she said, and suddenly she was aware that the power had completely shifted in the dream. It was entirely in her hands, and whatever it was that needed to happen, it was also entirely up to her to intuit. “How about we take this little dream to the place that you both find the most punishing. What do you say boys?”

“No!” came the duet that just barely past both of their lips before they all found themselves on the rooftop of a skyscraper in the dead of night.

“Not here, Leah. This is not the place, this is not a dungeon. This is not Al’s dream,” Dr. Clyde’s voice was breathless, laced with fear and uncertainty she’d never heard in him before. “Anyplace, I’ll go anyplace you want to take us, only just not here.”

“Yes, Clyde. Here.” Both men were now naked and her black leather bustier and boots had been replaced with what appeared to be a body hugging chain-mail sort of armor exposing her breasts, buttocks and crotch. The strap-on she now wore matched, but the dildo was bigger, thicker, stainless steel.

From somewhere in the depths of the unconscious, she had conjured a St. Andrews cross to which Al was now strapped spread-eagle, suspended just at the edge of the building so that even secured as he was, his bare toes curled over the edge into nothingness and the breeze from the abyss below tussled his hair. Clyde knelt with his knees at the edge, his hands tied behind his back with his own necktie.
“You’ve blamed each other and you’ve blamed yourselves,” she said separating Al’s ass cheeks and plunging home hard, hard enough to make him cry out, even as he yielded with an ease that said the good doctor had done his job, but then this was a dream, and she wanted him to cry out. She wanted him to feel her anger, her frustration and being dragged into their guilt. “I don’t care who’s to blame.” She withdrew and thrust again. “I’m sorry for both of you.” Another thrust. “I’m sorry for Diana, but I have nothing to do with any of this and what I want is out of your goddamned dream.”

She thrust several more times before she realized Clyde was shouting over and over again, “it should have been me! It
should have been me! It should have been me!”

“But it wasn’t you.” She gave one more hard thrust and Al came in great gasping bursts, his semen painting the night f7c97536836dc44ea7a1faaa02ab1a6asky of the dreamscape like the tail of a comet. “It wasn’t either one of you, and it wasn’t your fault either. Diana did what she did, and no one could have stopped her. But since neither of you can get past it without dragging in innocent bystanders, I’m here to punish both of you. Maybe then you’ll forgive yourselves for what wasn’t your fault and just get on with it.” She pulled free of Al, whose restraints had disappeared along with the cross and, with the flat of her hand, she pushed him off the edge, him still coming in great heavy bursts.

Then she turned to Dr. Clyde staring in shock at Al’s endless descent. She drew him to his feet, still teetering on the edge, then untied his hands and kissed him deeply before pushing him over the edge to follow Al into the abyss of the dreamscape.

“Make your peace, both of you,” she called after them, “and then set me free.”

 

Show Me, Sir by Sonni de Soto (@sonni_de  @SinfulPress) #romance #BDSM #kindle #kindleunlimited

Show-Me-Sir-KindleBlurb:

This novel contains explicit sexual scenes including bondage and voyeurism.

Max Wells is a ball-busting, ass-kicking testament to female empowerment, who’s yet to meet the person who can push her down.

Until she meets a man she only knows as Sir.

Shamelessly deviant, Hayato knows exactly what Max thinks of Dominants like him. So ready to dismiss his lifestyle, she’s the type to assume she knows everything about it and him after one cursory glance from the outside in. But, looking at Max—at her intelligence and passion—he can see more in her than the misconceptions she’s deliberately blinding herself with.

And, determined, he plans to show her more.

Max and Hayato engage in a dance of wit, will, and seduction as they negotiate roles, rewrite rules, and learn the true meaning of empowerment.

But, just as their game heats up, it gets used against them. Seeking to punish them with their play, someone threatens to drag their private lives out into the public spotlight.

With high stakes and bitter scandal looming over their heads, Max and her Sir will have to work together to show that what the world thinks they are does not define who they are.

*****

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Excerpt:

“I’m looking at you, Max.” She watched his firm mouth – his tongue and teeth – form the words. “I like looking at you.” His smooth voice flowed over her senses. “I want to touch you.”

Her breath caught and her eyes opened wide.

Okay, too much. That was way too much.

Having him there, having him watch her, felt wicked and dangerous and was toeing an erotic line that Max had never known.

She couldn’t imagine what having him touch her would be like.

She wasn’t sure she wanted to know.

“You said you wouldn’t,” she reminded him, wavering between want and worry.

“I said I wouldn’t pay to do so,” he clarified, his hand reaching out to stroke a fallen strand of her vibrant hair. “When I touch you, it won’t be for any other reason than I want to and you want me to as well.” Curling the strand around his fingers, he tested its texture and feel. “Tell me you want me to.”

She shivered. It didn’t feel safe – him behind her, fully dressed while she was half-naked. It didn’t feel safe to be in a room full of mirrors with Hallie somewhere in the store. It was frightening and intense. Frightening because it was so intense.

“Imagine it.” He let his hand slide through the thick mass of her hair. “Think about how good it’ll be when I place my hands all over your soft body. Think about how wet I can make you, not just slick but soaked.” He paused, his gaze stroking south. “You’re already more than halfway there, aren’t you?” He leaned in close, his hot breath caressing the delicate, sensitive curve of her ear. “Just say the words. Tell me what we both know you want.”

God, she did. God help her, she wanted this man to touch her, to stroke her, to fuck her. He made her body feel weak with need and consumed by mindless desire. She wanted him to touch. She wanted to touch. She wanted to strip and be stripped and to drown in the promise his hot gaze held.

“Say it.”

She wanted to. So badly.

She opened her mouth. “No.”

She wanted him, everything he was offering her, so much her body hummed with it.

And it scared her.

What kind of woman – what kind of modern, independent, strong, and smart woman – was she that she would let him have this much power over her? Was a word away from becoming a puddle of sexual putty in his hands? He was turning her into something she’d spent her entire life rejecting.

What was wrong with her?

Her attention snapped back, her worry turning into panic, then an unexpectedly feral snarl, low and perilous, rumbled deep in his throat. She flinched, afraid to look at him. Afraid to move or speak or breathe while the beast inside the man clenched.

She’d never felt so naked, so vulnerable and helpless, in her life.

Finally, she braved a look up, readying herself for his ire, sure he would storm ahead or storm away.

But he just nodded stiffly, his face and body held rigidly in control. She watched his nostrils flare and a muscle in his jaw tick. The fire in his eyes burned even as cold ice hardened them. They narrowed on her predatorily.

Slowly, each movement precise and exact, he reached inside his jacket, pulling another sheet from his pocket. Holding it up like a dare, he said in a low, calm, articulated voice, “Touch yourself.”

SMS quote 4

*****

Author bio:

Sonni de Soto is an Asian kinkster of color, who loves and lives the lifestyle when she can. Her work involves The Taming School and Show Me, Sir, as well as stories in Between the Shores: Erotica With Consent and The First Annual Geeky Kink Anthology. Like any good nerd, she loves learning new and interesting things about science, art, culture, and, of course, sex and love. She’s always thrilled to hear from readers.

Links:

Blog: www.sonnidesoto.blogspot.co.uk

Tumblr: http://sonni-de-soto.tumblr.com/

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/sonnidesotostories/

Fetlife: https://fetlife.com/users/1810574

 

Buy links for Show Me, Sir:

Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/1SIqdRX

Amazon US: http://amzn.to/1NLtlot

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