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Shameless Selfie: Dream a Little Dream with Me

It’s Shameless Selfie time again, and I’ve been having some heavy-duty dreams of late, so it seemed like the perfect time to share a little snippet from The Psychology of Dreams 101. Everyone has had sexy dreams about someone they’ve crushed on, and those dreams are all the more sexy if the crush is someone they shouldn’t be crushing on. And, seriously, is there anything more sexy than thinking about the psychology of what happens when dreams turn steamy?

The Psychology of Dreams 101 is the story of Leah Kent, who takes an adult education class called The Psychology of Dreams 101, which involves keeping a dream journal. But when her dreams starts taking on a very sexy, sometimes chilly life of their own, and she finds her dreams tied to those of her professor, Al Foster, their joint exploration of the dream world goes from sizzling to chilling and back again.

The Psychology of Dreams 101 is an X-rated, fast paced novella in which nothing is what it appears to be, but then dreams are like that, aren’t they?

 

Here’s a little Shameless Selfie of an excerpt from Leah’s journey into the dream world. Enjoy!

 

 

The Psychology of Dreams 101 Blurb:

 What if there was punishment when you didn’t dream the right dreams? That’s the dilemma Leah Kent, and her professor, Al Foster must face—dream right, or take the punishment. The Psychology of Dreams 101 is a wander into the sexy and dark unconscious as Leah takes a Psychology of Dreams adult education class, only to discover that the required dream journal leads to some seriously kinky night journeys. But not all dreams are pleasant ones, and some have far-reaching repercussions in the waking world.

 

Excerpt — Dream Punishment:

Perhaps it was OD-ing on romcoms that caused her to have sexy dream about Al. In truth they were mostly just images, disjointed, arousing, sometimes shameful images – images of walking into his office and finding him masturbating, images of somehow ending up in the men’s locker room at the gym and finding him in the shower, steamy water pulsing over strong arms and a tight ass as he hunched over himself paying particular attention to the soaping of his junk. There was one dream, however, that she remembered vividly. Al sat behind his desk in the empty classroom clad in his usual polo shirt and jeans. He had asked her to stay after. “I’m not happy with your dream journal, Leah,” he said, looking her up and down. She suddenly felt naked, embarrassed, and dreams being what they were, well she had good reason. She wore only red lace underwear that was nearly transparent; certainly they did nothing to disguise her heavy nipples. “When are you going to learn that all you have to do is just relax and let it happen?”

“I try, Al, really I do, but I just can’t seem to dream about you.”

“Then perhaps you need a little encouragement.” He stood and pulled his belt from its loops around his waist all the while raking her with a critical gaze. “If I lay a few bright pink welts across your nice round ass, do you think maybe when you lie down in bed tonight, when your poor tender bottom touches those clean rough sheets, you might manage to remember me in your dreams?”

“Yes. Yes, I think that might help,” she said. Fuck! What was she thinking? How could she agree to such a thing? And yet, she did, most heartily she did.

Before she could say more, or rethink the arrangement, he yanked her around the desk, dropped back into the chair and pulled her over his knees. He all but tore her panties off her and she woke screaming and begging just as the first lash fell. For a moment she lay in the darkness gasping for breath, struggling with the strange mix of emotions that came from wanting the man to spank her and yet not, but certainly wishing she could go back to sleep and finish the dream. She was wet with sweat and, was she imagining it, or did her bottom actually hurt? She was definitely not imaging her state of arousal. There would be no returning to the dream world until she could make herself a little more comfortable, and that meant fantasizing about just what Al would do after he’d finished spanking her. It didn’t take her long to bring herself over the edge, and then she fell almost instantly back to sleep.

It was the morning sun streaming through the curtains she forgot to close that woke her, disappointed that Al Foster had not returned to her dreamscape, though he had, nonetheless, provided her with a good orgasm. Certainly she couldn’t’ write any of those dreams in her journal. She might have to start a private journal just for sexy dreams – assuming this wasn’t a one-off. God, she hoped this wasn’t a one-off.

As she sat up on the edge of her bed and stretched, she noticed the dream journal open with the pen lying across the page, which read:

You look beautiful when you dream. It was a good dream, the kind you don’t want to wake up from. At last, Leah, you’re doing it right! You can always tell when you do it right by the way your nipples bead beneath the sheet, by the way your lips turned up at the corners, slightly parted as though waiting to be kissed. And, take a sniff, Leah. Your scent is the scent of dreams well dreamed, luscious and ripe. Well done, Leah! Well done!

There was no doubt the writing was her own, though way neater than most of the scrawl she’d written at speed. The thing was, she had no memory of writing it.

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The Psychology of Dreams 101 Launches Today!

You’re Beautiful When you Dream!

 

I’m excited to start 2017 on a high note. It’s Launch day for The Psychology of Dreams 101! Who hasn’t had sexy dreams about a professor or a teacher or someone they’ve crushed on? And, seriously, is there anything more sexy than thinking about the psychology of what happens when dreams turn steamy?

The Psychology of Dreams 101 is the story of Leah Kent, who takes an adult education class called The Psychology of Dreams 101, which involves keeping a dream journal. But when her journal starts taking on a very sexy, sometimes chilly life of her own, and she finds her dreams tied to those of her professor, Al Foster, their joint exploration of the dream world goes from sizzling to chilling and back again.

The Psychology of Dreams 101 is an X-rated, fast paced novella in which nothing is what it appears to be, but then dreams are like that, aren’t they?

Here’s a little excerpt from Leah’s journey into the dream world. Enjoy.

 

 

The Psychology of Dreams 101 Blurb:

What if there was punishment when you didn’t dream the right dreams? That’s the dilemma Leah Kent, and her professor, Al Foster must face—dream right, or take the punishment. The Psychology of Dreams 101 is a wander into the sexy and dark unconscious as Leah takes a Psychology of Dreams adult education class, only to discover that the required dream journal leads to some seriously kinky night journeys. But not all dreams are pleasant ones, and some have far-reaching repercussions in the waking world.

 

Excerpt — Dream Punishment:

Perhaps it was OD-ing on romcoms that caused her to have sexy dream about Al. In truth they were mostly just images, disjointed, arousing, sometimes shameful images – images of walking into his office and finding him masturbating, images of somehow ending up in the men’s locker room at the gym and finding him in the shower, steamy water pulsing over strong arms and a tight ass as he hunched over himself paying particular attention to the soaping of his junk. There was one dream, however, that she remembered vividly. Al sat behind his desk in the empty classroom clad in his usual polo shirt and jeans. He had asked her to stay after. “I’m not happy with your dream journal, Leah,” he said, looking her up and down. She suddenly felt naked, embarrassed, and dreams being what they were, well she had good reason. She wore only red lace underwear that was nearly transparent; certainly they did nothing to disguise her heavy nipples. “When are you going to learn that all you have to do is just relax and let it happen?”

“I try, Al, really I do, but I just can’t seem to dream about you.”

“Then perhaps you need a little encouragement.” He stood and pulled his belt from its loops around his waist all the while raking her with a critical gaze. “If I lay a few bright pink welts across your nice round ass, do you think maybe when you lie down in bed tonight, when your poor tender bottom touches those clean rough sheets, you might manage to remember me in your dreams?”

“Yes. Yes, I think that might help,” she said. Fuck! What was she thinking? How could she agree to such a thing? And yet, she did, most heartily she did.

Before she could say more, or rethink the arrangement, he yanked her around the desk, dropped back into the chair and pulled her over his knees. He all but tore her panties off her and she woke screaming and begging just as the first lash fell. For a moment she lay in the darkness gasping for breath, struggling with the strange mix of emotions that came from wanting the man to spank her and yet not, but certainly wishing she could go back to sleep and finish the dream. She was wet with sweat and, was she imagining it, or did her bottom actually hurt? She was definitely not imaging her state of arousal. There would be no returning to the dream world until she could make herself a little more comfortable, and that meant fantasizing about just what Al would do after he’d finished spanking her. It didn’t take her long to bring herself over the edge, and then she fell almost instantly back to sleep.

It was the morning sun streaming through the curtains she forgot to close that woke her, disappointed that Al Foster had not returned to her dreamscape, though he had, nonetheless, provided her with a good orgasm. Certainly she couldn’t’ write any of those dreams in her journal. She might have to start a private journal just for sexy dreams – assuming this wasn’t a one-off. God, she hoped this wasn’t a one-off.

As she sat up on the edge of her bed and stretched, she noticed the dream journal open with the pen lying across the
page, which read:

You look beautiful when you dream. It was a good dream, the kind you don’t want to wake up from. At last, Leah,
you’re doing it right! You can always tell when you do it right by the way your nipples bead beneath the sheet, by the
way your lips turned up at the corners, slightly parted as though waiting to be kissed. And, take a sniff, Leah. Your scent is the scent of dreams well dreamed, luscious and ripe. Well done, Leah! Well done!

There was no doubt the writing was her own, though way neater than most of the scrawl she’d written at speed. The thing was, she had no memory of writing it.

 

Buy Links for The Psychology of Dreams 101 Here:

 

 

The Psychology of Dreams 101 Chapter 10

Psychology of Dreams cover12985576_1537272663241009_8777292825525497968_nWelcome to Part 10 of The Psychology of Dreams, in which Leah and Al take a detour in dreamland.

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.

No, I didn’t dream it, and I’m seriously hoping I don’t get punished like Leah and Al do if I don’t get it quite right, but The Psychology of Dreams did bubble up from somewhere in my unconscious and I had to share it. Since then,the Muse has been back knocking around in my imagination in some pretty unusual ways, and never taking the path I’d expect, but then dreams are like that, aren’t they? Enjoy episode 8!

 

I have no idea how long this little ditty will be, nor where it will lead, but I’m willing if you are. Please, read and enjoy The Psychology of Dreams 101.

 

If you’ve missed Episode 9, find it here. 

 

WARNING ADULT CONTENT! It occurred to me halfway through writing this episode of The Psychology of Dreams that this little tale might be a bit of a shock for those who just finished reading In The Flesh. While In The Flesh is dark paranormal romance, The Psychology of Dreams is just raunchy, fun erotica, a bit of light relief after Magda and her Consortium. Be warned, light it may be, but filthy it most certainly is. Enjoy!

Chapter 10 Safeguards and Detours

“Are you serious? You can’t be serious.” Al’s face had lost all color, and he nearly dropped the coffee cup he’d been sipping from into his lap. “How could I possibly get Derrick’s dreams? How could that even happen?”

“You tell me. Until I met you and my dreams started going astray, I had no idea any of this shit was possible, or I sure as hell wouldn’t have taken your class. Anyway, you and Dr. Clyde enter dreams together,” she said before he could do more than look guilty at her wish that she hadn’t taken the class. “You were in Diana’s and you were certainly both on mine.”

“That was unexpected, and unintentional.”

“Maybe this is too, but it still doesn’t matter, does it? The message is clear enough either way, that someone needs to be punished. Do you feel you need to be punished? Does he feel you do?”

He set the cup down carefully on the Formica tabletop and wiped his hands unnecessarily on the napkin, clenching it tightly in his fist. “He … He did blame me, yes.” He swallowed hared as though the coffee hadn’t quite gone down. “He blamed me for Diana’s death, he blamed me for convincing him to leave her dream to begin with, but then I blamed myself too. But I knew I needed his help if we were ever to get her out.” He looked down at the mangled napkin he held in his hand. “We found out later that she was suicidal, as I said, and then … Well maybe that lessened his blaming me, but if anything it made his own guilt worse — that he didn’t know, I mean, that he didn’t see, and him her lover. She hid it well.” He added, “No one knew.”

“So after that, you lost your grant?” He flinched and gave a convulsive nod. She felt bad for him, for both of them, she really did, but at the moment, she felt worse for herself, and angry as hell that she’d been dragged into their fucked-up past. If her response was a bit calloused, she reckoned she could be forgiven under the circumstances. “And then what? You both went your separate ways?”

“Pretty much. I wanted nothing to do with him or with the bad memories the sight of him provoked. The feeling was more than mutual, I’m sure. We hadn’t spoken until I got in touch with him concerning your dreams.”

“Jesus,” she whispered. “Thank you so much for that.”

Before he could respond, the alarm on his phone went off and they both jumped as he fumbled to reset it.

“Well, here was all are then, so what can we do about it?” She asked.

He heaved a sigh and tore the napkin into shreds. “Punish him, I guess. If that’s what he wants, if that’s what he’s trying to guide us to do. I don’t know, maybe by going back into the dream and taking control, we can give him what he wants — what he need.” He looked up at her and forced a smile, “then maybe we’ll get the relief we need as well.”

“Sounds like a win-win to me. How do you suggest we do that?”

He glanced around the diner. “Well we can’t do it here.” He made a quick glance around the empty café in case someone might be listening in, then he leaned close over the table. “We probably should get a hotel room,” he spoke the words between barely parted lips as though he feared someone might think he was taking advantage, “l need to hypnotize us with some further suggestions, some suggestions that will keep us safe and it’s better to do that in a neutral situation.”

She wondered again if she was dreaming as he paid and they walked to his car. If this wasn’t a dream, under the circumstances, how could she be trusting this man to hypnotize her still further?

“Why didn’t you just do it to begin with – hypnotize us, I mean, then Dr. Clyde wouldn’t have been in the equation at f7c97536836dc44ea7a1faaa02ab1a6aall.”

“It didn’t seem right to do it when my dream was part of the problem.”

“Could be that our going to Dr. Clyde was always a part of his plan to get punishment? Is it possible that even that was a part of the dream?”

“Christ, Leah! You have a devious mind.”

“But isn’t it possible?” She asked, as he turned the car into the parking lot at a nearby La Quinta and pulled up to reception.

“At this point anything is possible, I suppose. Wait here,” he said, “I’ll register us.” It was hard to tell in the dark if he was blushing or not, but making her wait in the car was a dead giveaway that he wasn’t comfortable checking them into a hotel together. She had a sneaking suspicion that the guy was a bit old fashioned at heart. But then again, maybe that was a part of the dream too.

“Hurry back,” she said, and she meant it. She didn’t like the idea of being left in the car alone with everything that was going on.

“I promise.” He opened the door, and paused, as though he’d forgotten something, then he turned to her and gave her what she figured was intended to be just a little peck on the lips for reassurance. At first contract, however, a heat wave of lust engulfed them, and she threw her arms around his neck and practically pulled him in on top of her, with him doing his best to accommodate. And then her alarm went off and they both jumped apart – her fumbling in her bag to find her phone, him cursing under his breath.

“I’ll hurry,” he gasped, as she shoved the reset device back in her bag and straightened her shirt.

“You do that.” And then he was gone, leaving her to squirm on he seat as unsatisfied as ever.

Perhaps she dozed. God, they both had to be pretty strung out by now, but the opening of the door startled her back to herself just as Dr. Clyde got into the drivers seat and buckled himself in, all the while glancing over his shoulder toward the hotel entrance.

“Quick, we don’t have much time if we want to get this dream back on course. Al’s just paying now. We’ve got to go.”

“Wait a minute, this is Al’s car. We can’t leave without Al. Hold on, is this a dream?” She reached for her phone.

“Of course it’s a dream, Leah.” The doctor glanced at her as he all but laid rubber getting out of the La Quinta parking lot. “It’s been a dream all along, no matter what Al is trying to tell you.”

“What the fuck,” she reached to unbuckle her seatbelt. “Stop the car! Stop the damned car right now.”

“Listen to me, Leah,” he said, more gently this time, but still not slowing the car, “you and Al told me you wanted to stay in the dream until it was resolved, until you both got punishes so you could have some relief from your … situation. I told you that unless there’s an emergency, you would stay in the dream.”

“But what about Al’s smoke alarm? What about my doorbell and our alarms?”

“What, haven’t you ever had the dream where the alarm goes off and you’re late, and then your back in bed and it goes off again, and then the doorbell rings and you can’t answer it? Well, this is just a variation on that dream, that’s all.

“But this is not the dream? This is not the dream at all. There’s nothing arousing about this dream and –”

“Isn’t there?” He nodded over to her and, to her surprise, she realized that she had her hand down the front of her open jeans and in her panties, two fingers hard at work.

She jerked free, but before she could look around for something to clean up with, the good Doctor scooped up her hand and licked her fingers with a hot tongue, slurping at them as though they were dessert, which made her moan and squirm against the seat.

“Dreams get derailed sometimes, Leah.” He settled her hand into his lap where she found his fly wide open and his cock at full attention. “Sometimes the route they take is way more circuitous that one would expect.”

“But what about Al?” As though it were no big deal, she settled into the stroke and squeeze and fondle of his cock with an occasional cup and kneed of his sac.

“Al’s yanking one off in front of the surprised desk clerk at the La Quinta right about now, hoping she’ll give him a hand. She won’t, of course, and when the alarm on his phone goes off, he’ll meet up with us.”

“How do I know I can believe you?”

“Oh you don’t. It’s a dream, Leah, and no one or nothing in a dream is to be trusted.”

“Then what Al said about Diana, that’s not true?”

She felt the flinch all the way down to his cock, which softened briefly to her touch. Then he caught his breath and replied, “oh that part was true, the basic facts anyway. The point of view, however, is always skewed by the teller.”

“What the hell does any of that have to do with my dream then?”

“Not a fucking clue, Leah. Not a fucking clue. That Al thought you look like Diana, well maybe that has something to do with it. I can see the resemblance, but then I’ve seen the resemblance in a thousand women since her death. Still, I have no idea how that fact could have possibly entered the realm of your unconscious, nor do I know what it means.” His cock hardened again in her hand. “That’s what we’re trying to find out, remember? In the meantime, would you mind?” He placed his hand at the back of her head exerting just enough pressure that, with the slight nod and glance down into his lap, there was no doubting what he wanted, and she discovered, a bit to her surprise that, no, she didn’t mind at all.Sleeping woman reading181340322466666994_IswNAb85_b

As she took him into her mouth, he offered a little hiss of breath and sighed. “Ah, that’s nice. That’s just what the doctor ordered. And now if you could turn just a little bit, just a tiny bit more. That’s a girl.” Against her better judgment, she undid her seatbelt, but after all this was just a dream, and squirmed until her bottom was up in the air, just barely hidden from public view by the dashboard, but then it was dark, and it was a dream. Dr. Clyde slid his hand down into the back of her jeans and into her panties working his way inside, wriggling fingers past her anus and over her perineum until he found the sweet spot, and she all but purred against his cock. He gave an animal growl in response. This hardly qualified as punishment. The thought was barely formed in her head before the doctor replied, “I’m not the one being punished, in spite of what Al may think, and anyway it’s a great way to pass the time until we meet up with Al again.”

 

The Psychology of Dreams 101: Episode 8

f7c97536836dc44ea7a1faaa02ab1a6aWelcome to Part 8 of The Psychology of Dreams, in which things turn dark. Awe, come on! You knew they would, didn’t you?

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.

No, I didn’t dream it, and I’m seriously hoping I don’t get punished like Leah and Al do if I don’t get it quite right, but The Psychology of Dreams did bubble up from somewhere in my unconscious and I had to share it. Since then,the Muse has been back knocking around in my imagination in some pretty unusual ways, and never taking the path I’d expect, but then dreams are like that, aren’t they? Enjoy episode 8!

 

I have no idea how long this little ditty will be, nor where it will lead, but I’m willing if you are. Please, read and enjoy The Psychology of Dreams 101.

 

If you’ve missed Episode 7, find it here. 

 

WARNING ADULT CONTENT! It occurred to me halfway through writing this episode of The Psychology of Dreams that this little tale might be a bit of a shock for those who just finished reading In The Flesh. While In The Flesh is dark paranormal romance, The Psychology of Dreams is just raunchy, fun erotica, a bit of light relief after Magda and her Consortium. Be warned, light it may be, but filthy it most certainly is. Enjoy!

 

Chapter 8 In The Dark

“In a coma.” Leah repeated the words in barely more than a whisper. A wave of vertigo washed over her and the diner suddenly tilted as though they were on the deck of a ship at sea. “In a coma,” she said again, a little louder, and the lovers shot her a worried glance from across their sundae, full spoons halfway to their mouths. Before she realized what was happening she grabbed Al by the shirtsleeve and all but dragged him from the booth, with him slapping down twenty dollars for the untouched food as she headed for the door, the lovers and the waitress looking on.

“Leah. Leah! What are you doing?”

She shoved through the door, him right behind her. “I’m going to your car and you’re going to drive us to Dr. Clyde and have him undo the hypnosis and then,” she turned so fast that he all but ran into her, and they stood nose to nose in the darkened parking lot, “then I’ll have a thought as to whether I want to bring charges.”

He grabbed her arm and pulled her back so quickly that the vertebrae in her neck popped in protest. “What are you going to charge him with, Leah? What? I can’t prove he’s done anything, and it wasn’t like the dreams were bad, was it?”

“And that’s another thing,” she said, jerking her arm away so hard that she nearly went over backward, “you were in the dream; you seem to know exactly what was going on or how else would you know that he’s manipulating my dreams unless you’re doing the same thing?”

“Seriously? You think I would do that?” He seemed offended by the obvious.

“Under the circumstances, what the hell do you expect me to think? And if it’s not so, then how about we ask the good doctor to send us into your dream instead of mine, hmm? How about we give that a try?”

“Christ, Leah, do you really think it’s that simple? You make it sound like Derrick is going to put us on a plane and send us to Mexico or something. It doesn’t work that way, and I really don’t want to discuss this with you in the parking lot at Eddie’s Diner.” He took her arm again, this time more gently, and she didn’t protest as he guided her to his car. “Get in.”

She settled into the care in another wave of vertigo, struggling to get her head around the horror story he’d just told her dark moon image_xl_6338206and the fear that she might have just landed in the middle of her own nightmare. When the feeling of being at sea passed and she could focus again, she realized they were heading out Highway 26 toward Mount Hood, and she was fine with that, though it disturbed her a bit that she still trusted him. Once again, in spite of all his reassurances to the contrary, she wondered if they were still in a dream.

When he remained silent, offering no information, she screwed up her courage and asked what happened next, even though she was pretty sure she would be sorry she asked.

For a long moment, she thought he was ‘t going to answer her, and she was about to ask again, more adamantly, when he hauled a deep breath into his lungs and spoke. “Obviously I couldn’t wake them up, but I could find nothing wrong either of them. For all practical purposes, they seemed to be simply sleeping, only no matter what I did, I couldn’t wake them of. Of course I wanted to make it right as soon as possible, I thought if I could pull them out of it before morning, then I would send Diana on her way, that was the woman’s name. She was a mutual friend – and no one would be the wiser. As for Derrick, well I wasn’t sure if I’d kill him or just beat the shit out of him. I was bigger then. I worked out in a boxing gym for stress relief, lifted a few weights.” She could see the curve of his lips in the pale lighting of the dashboard, a smile that was anything but happy, as he found himself transported into the past he’d rather not remember. “Looks like we’ve changed roles. Though I haven’t seen him since …” His voice drifted off and she could almost hear him thinking.

“I tried everything I could think of. You have to understand, I was scared. I was desperate.”

“What did you do?” The feeling of dread around her was thicker than the darkness in the evergreen woods on both sides of the road.

He glanced over at her as though she’d just asked the stupidest question ever. “I did the only thing I could do. I entered their dream.”

“Like you did mine?”

His laugh was nearly a growl, surprising in its bitterness. “Oh it was nothing like what’s happening with you, Leah. I didn’t come into your dream intentionally. You dreamed me there, and I have no idea how I actually became conscious of being there.”

“Then what?” She asked, seriously not wanting to know the answer and yet knowing she had to – needed to.

“I did the self-hypnosis ritual we’d been perfecting, careful to make sure all the safeties were in place. I was always the Sleeping woman reading181340322466666994_IswNAb85_bmost safety conscious of the two of us, and yet it was Derrick’s willingness to take a risk that had been responsible for a log of our break-throughs. Anyway, never mind that. It doesn’t matter now, except that it would appear nothing has changed. In my case, it was wise to take every precaution though. I was the only one in the waking world who had a clue how to deal with what was going on, and even I could barely get my head round it. I was afraid they wouldn’t let me in. That was always a possibility, that a subject wouldn’t let us in or they’d push us out. It happened occasionally. In fact it was responsible for almost 75% of our failures. I needn’t have worried though. Derrick all but dragged me on by the collar.”

“What, did he want you for a bit of ménage? Was that it?”

“He needed my help.”

“For what?”

“To talk Diana back from the dream.”

“Jesus,” she whispered, as another wave of vertigo hit, and she laid her head back against the seat and forced her feet hard against the floorboard to keep the car from tilting.

He continued. “I found them both in the middle of some dark city. I didn’t recognize it, but it was a sea of skyscrapers that went on forever. You know how dreams are. The were so high that, from the roof, you could barely see the street below, and they were standing on the roof of the highest one.’

There was another pause as he turned off highway 26 onto a forest service road that led deep into the woods, and her chest clenched and vertigo gave way to panic.

“Where are you taking me?” She undid her seatbelt, ready to leap from the car, which had slowed for the turn. “Al where the hell are you taking me?”

“Leah! Leah, calm down.” He stopped the car gently, and reached across to touch her shoulder, and the panic dissipated with the sound of his voice. “I’m sorry, Leah. I didn’t mean to frighten you. I should have asked first before I decided to bring you here. It’s just a campground where my parents used to take me when I was a kid. We always spent a week here at huckleberry picking time.”

That still didn’t make her feel really comfortable, but then nothing did right now.

“I can go somewhere else if you’d like. It’s just that I wanted … I just wanted to be some place neutral, you know, someplace with good memories attached to it.” When she made no effort to jump out of the car and make a run for it — not that she was sure her legs would have supported her anyway – he reached across her and buckled the belt back around her.

“No it’s fine. I’m fine.” She wasn’t, but she reminded herself again that she wasn’t likely to be any better wherever they were.

He started the engine again, and they drove in silence for a few more minutes before he turned into the deserted campground and, in another wave of vertigo, her adrenaline spiked at all the horrid possibilities of being alone with a man she barely knew, and yet here she was. Here they were, and Al was the only one who could tell her what was going on. He drove to a grassy spot near the back of the campground where a stream gurgled softly over rocks, and she couldn’t help feeling they were still in a dream, though a peaceful dream. Well, peaceful at least for the moment. No doubt that would change when he continued his tale.

“Are you sure you’re all right?” He asked.

“No. I’m not all right, but here’s fine. It’s nice.”

“Leah, I would never hurt you.”

“I know.” And she did, thought she didn’t know how she knew. She opened the door and stepped out into the velvety Writing pen and birds 1_xl_20156020warmth of one of the few summer nights in the Northwest that didn’t have at least a little nip to it. Not looking to see if he followed suit, she moved across the grass and sat down by the edge of the water, which filled the quiet night with its tinkle and murmur. Somewhere close by an owl trilled in the trees. Al came and sat beside her. For a moment neither of
them said anything. For a moment she wanted to pretend that everything was normal. For a moment she wanted to pretend that they were just two lovers who had found a lovely spot for some sex al fresco and, for a moment, she wanted pull him down on the grass and make love to him. For a moment she knew he would let her if she did. She brushed her hand against his and he caught her fingers in his slightly calloused ones and gave them a squeeze. She was just about to lean on and kiss him when he shattered all illusion.

“I said that Derrick was trying to talk Diana back from the dream. It was more than that, Leah, way more than that. He was trying to talk her back from the rooftop. She was about to jump.”

 

The Psychology of Dreams 101 Part 7

f7c97536836dc44ea7a1faaa02ab1a6aWelcome to Part 7 of The Psychology of Dreams, in which Al tells all … or at least some of it.

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.

No, I didn’t dream it, and I’m seriously hoping I don’t get punished like Leah and Al do if I don’t get it quite right, but The Psychology of Dreams did bubble up from somewhere in my unconscious and I had to share it. Since then,the Muse has been back knocking around in my imagination in some pretty unusual ways, and never taking the path I’d expect, but then dreams are like that, aren’t they? Enjoy episode 7!

 

I have no idea how long this little ditty will be, nor where it will lead, but I’m willing if you are. Please, read and enjoy The Psychology of Dreams 101.

 

If you’ve missed Episode 6, find it here. 

 

WARNING ADULT CONTENT! It occurred to me halfway through writing this episode of The Psychology of Dreams that this little tale might be a bit of a shock for those who just finished reading In The Flesh. While In The Flesh is dark paranormal romance, The Psychology of Dreams is just raunchy, fun erotica, a bit of light relief after Magda and her Consortium. Be warned, light it may be, but filthy it most certainly is. Enjoy!

 

Chapter 7 Deceit and Permeable Dreams

At Eddie’s All-Night Diner, the waitress took in their disheveled appearance with only a quirk of a smile, then she headed for the counter and the coffee pot. The first thing couples wanted when they came into Eddie’s in the middle of the night was coffee. Eddie’s had a reputation with lovers – both the starry-eyed first love kind and the not-here-with-the-spouse kind. If she only knew, Leah thought. But then again, the woman did have that seen it all look about her. Waitresses, if they’d been in the business very long – especially at Eddie’s – became Renaissance women, with a little knowledge about almost everything. No doubt that knowledge by osmosis and by the unavoidable bit eavesdropping involved at least some facts about BDSM and a good smattering of psychology as well.

They settled into a booth in the back, having barely spoken to each other on the drive over. Whatever was eating at Al had kept him zip-lipped until they were safely ensconced in the booth. Even then, he waited until the waitress brought coffee and left them to peruse the menus, all the while, he kept looking around like he was a crook expecting the police any minute.

“Al, what’s so important that you had to drag me out my bed at stupid o’clock?”

He sipped his coffee, burnt his tongue, then cursed.

“Al?” The knot that had been growing in her stomach since the ringing of the doorbell dragged her up from the dream world tightened.

He leaned over the table until their heads nearly touched across the Formica and spoke in a hurried whisper. “I Sleeping woman reading181340322466666994_IswNAb85_bthink Derrick is manipulating your dreams.” He gave a quick glance over each shoulder to make sure no one overheard.

“Manipulating my dream?” Leah sat back and folded her arms across her chest. “How the hell can he manipulate my dream?”

“Shshs!” He hissed at her just as the waitress showed up, and they both offered her a forced smile. To Leah’s surprise, Al ordered the jumbo Lumberjack breakfast complete with extra eggs. Even more to her surprise, she ordered the Death by Chocolate Belgian Waffles with half a pig’s worth of sausage. Suddenly she felt like she could eat the whole menu. The waitress’ smile grew wider and wider as she wrote down their order. Lots of lovers came into Eddie’s ravenous after their night of passion. From the size of their order, she must have thought they’d just come from a right proper orgy. The clench low in Leah’s belly reminded her once again, that while the woman might not have been far off in her speculations, sadly no one had gotten any satisfaction at this particular orgy. And then it hit her. “Wait a minute. This isn’t part of the dream, is it?” she said as the waitress sauntered away.

“No, it isn’t. It’s real. Remember Derrick said that if someone rang the doorbell or if there was some emergency, the word he gave us wouldn’t work any longer. This is real.”

“You’re sure?”

“Of course I’m sure,” he said with another glance around.

“You don’t sound sure.”

“I’m sure! All right? I am. Really.”

“Well then … If you’re sure. It’s hard to tell anymore.’” With a shiver, she sipped her coffee then held her cup between her hands for the warmth, recalling what they’d been talking about before the urgent need to order enough breakfast for the whole neighborhood. “Now then, tell me how Dr. Clyde can be manipulating our dreams.”

“It’s pretty simple really – at least in theory. He creates a sort of door into your dream using the same basic hypnosis technique he used on us.”

She recalled them both being surprised when the good doctor told them he’d already hypnotized them and that the word was in place. She remembered nothing. He didn’t even tell them to relax or look into his eyes or anything like that. Just suddenly, he said they were done.

Al continued. “He links it to the word that keeps us under. As long as we’re sleeping soundly and we’re in a safe, undisturbed situation, he can come and go at will. I didn’t know he’d perfected the technique. We could only get it to work sporadically.” He looked down into his cup, and she thought she saw a shudder climb his spine. “The few dreams we were able to sneak in to through the back door were not ones very pleasant to be in, not like yours.”

“We?” She definitely felt the shudder crawl up her back. “What do you mean we?”

He shifted in his seat and rearranged his cutlery, holding her gaze. “You may have noticed that on the syllabus and on my class handouts, it says Instructor: Doctor Aldrich Foster. I worked with Derrick — post doctoral research on the permeability of dreams.”

“Permeability of dreams? You mean like…”

“I mean Like what Derrick is doing with us. He shows up in your dream and makes … suggestions.”

“Suggestions? Suggestions!?” The lovers at the table across from them glanced up from the raspberry chocolate truffle sundae they were sharing to see what the fuss was about, and Leah took a deep breath in an unsuccessful effort to calm herself, as the stomach knot tightened still further, then she spoke between barely parted lips. “He’s a fucking pervert, that’s what he is. How the hell can he be in my dreams unless I dream him? It was my damned dream? Wasn’t it?” her voice rose again, and this time the lovers shifted nervously and pretended not to hear.

Al shushed her and tried to grab her hand, but she pulled it away. “Listen to me, Leah. You have to listen to me, dark moon image_xl_6338206whether you like what I have to say or not. You need to understand.”

She glared and him and braced her feet against the floor in a useless attempt to keep from trembling. She wasn’t sure if it was from fear or anger though she suspected it was a good mix of the two. “So enlighten me, Dr. Foster.”

She felt just a hint of satisfaction when he flinched at the use of his title, but he squared his shoulders and inhaled like he was about to go deep-sea diving without oxygen. “It was promising research – really promising. I mean we both thought it was possible, thought that maybe through hypnosis there might be a way to influence another person’s dreams, not just influence them, but actually enter the dream state with the subject. Believe me, Leah,” he raised his hand as though he feared her response, “Our plan was to help people. Think about it; a surgeon can cut away damaged tissue, go in and reconnect, bypass, heal a person by actually getting inside their body, finding what’s wrong, and making it better. But while psychologists and psychiatrists can diagnose and treat symptoms, we can never actually cut into the part that hurts, we can never actually see for ourselves what the problem is because the mind is not flesh and bone; it’s not muscle and sinew we can cut into or stitch back together. Think what an advance for medical science it would be – and advance for human health, if we could walk with a troubled person in their dream world and heal them from the inside. Like a surgeon for the mind.”

He leaned over the table closer to her, his eyes bright with conviction. “I mean imagine what it would mean if we could actually find a way in?” When she did nothing but stare at him, he continued. “Medical doctors have all sorts of tools at their disposal. They have X-rays, MRIs, CT scans, and while we can do brain scans, while we can look into the actual physiology of the brain, we have no way of doing the same with the mind, no way of understanding on a psychological level, anything beyond the outward symptoms and what the patient is willing to share with us. And what if the patient can’t tell us? What if the patient is so traumatized they can’t speak or what if they can’t even remember? All we have to go on is the obvious and what the patient or client tells us; and people lie, Leah, people are notorious liars – especially when it comes to their mental health.”

“So you thought you’d just shove right in and help yourself to my dreams, did you? Christ, Al, that’s sick!”

“No! Leah, no! It wasn’t like that. Honestly. We never attempted anything on anyone who didn’t completely understand the process, what we were doing and the risks, which were minimal. We were very careful to be sure of that. We never tried the dream permeation technique without our subjects’ total and complete consent. Or at least I didn’t.” Suddenly he was toying with his cutlery again, avoiding her gaze, and the knot in her stomach turned to ice.

They sat in silence as the waitress delivered their food and refilled their cups. The waffles didn’t look nearly as appetizing as they’d sounded a few minutes ago, and Leah physically fought the urge to run away. She was in this mess up to her ears. She had to know the whole story, and then she would kill Al. Surely the waitress would bring her a steak knife. After that, she’d kill Dr. fucking Clyde and tie him to his own goddamned desk bare ass in the air. But first, she had to know. “What happened?”

“She was a friend of Derrick’s.” the fine muscles along Al’s cheekbones twitched. “More than a friend, I suppose, though I didn’t know that at the time. They were drunk. He took her to the office and then the lab we shared, and when he told her what we were doing, she insisted that he try it on her. He couldn’t refuse. He always was a bit full of himself, Derrick.” He sat for a long moment as though he had suddenly been hypnotized, and maybe he had been by whatever memories were going through his head.

Leah watched him, hands clenched around the napkin in her lap, feeling a chill that didn’t come from the AC. She watched him and waited, and when the silence became almost worse than the knowing, she asked the question she was pretty sure she’d rather not know the answer to. “And then what happened?”IMG_5339

He looked up at her as though he’d only just remembered she was there. “I found them the next morning, asleep in one of the beds we used for our subjects.”

“Well you did say they were drunk.” Funny how the brain always grasps for the easy answer. That was it, of course it was! Had to be. They were drunk, and the project got cut because, well drunk and disorderly … drunk and disorderly what? Drunk and disorderly sleeping?

With an effort, he held her gaze, his hands now clenched in fists on either side of the jumbo Lumberjack breakfast getting cold on the plate. “Leah, they were in a coma.”

 
© 2017 K D Grace
The Romance Reviews

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