The Psychology of Dreams 101: Episode 5
In Part 5 of The Psychology of Dreams, Leah and Al begin to wonder if they’re really having a Groundhogs Day, Comedy of Errors, sort of experience rather than a punishment dream.
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 5!
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.
Chapter 5 In Which Nothing Happened … Again?
“Now then, let’s see if we can’t ease the pain in you lovely little bottom before we get on with the spanking, ” Dr. Clyde said before Leah could ask what he meant by his remark about them never getting out of the dream. He rummaged and rattled through the surprising abundance of the desk drawers until he came up with a tube of something she couldn’t see in her bent-over position, but as he unscrewed the lid, she immediately smelled peaches. There was the sound of something squirting, and then she felt the doctor’s large palm spreading cool lotion against her burning butt. She sighed and clenched at the pleasure of it. “There now. That feels better, doesn’t it hon? Just what the doctor ordered. We don’t want that lovely ass of yours too wounded just yet. Your punishment has hardly begun, after all.”
“Peach? Seriously?” Al said, coming closer to observe and sniffing as he did so.
“Yup! And it’s edible too,” Dr. Clyde said. “Taste! Not like that, Dear God, Al, put the tube down, and use your imagination. You’re in a dream for fuck sake! And you,” he turned his attention back to Leah, “you lie still. You’re being punished. You don’t get to see what’s happening. You have to trust the dream, trust that what happens next is all a part of the experience.”
“Enough of the psycho-babble, already, Derrick. We get it,” Al protested. There was a shuffling of male bodies behind her, and Leah felt a different set of hands, clearly Al’s hands. They were not quite as large as Dr. Clyde’s, but they were slightly calloused. She wondered how someone who taught courses on dream psychology got calloused hands. He gently cupped her hips, carful not to touch her wounded left ass-cheek. Then she felt the humid heat of his breath just before his warm wet tongue pressed against the place where her thigh met her left buttock.
“Oh God!” she managed, as the unexpected, but delightful, sinuous lap of his tongue up the rounded contour of her ass cheek moved inward, closer to the cleft that she knew would taste nothing at all like peaches. Meanwhile the doctor droned on that though at one point in our evolution, we liked the scents and odors of the body, at present that was less the case, and scented and flavored lubricants and lotions for sex often made the partners more comfortable with their personal smells.
“I like her smell,” came Al’s muffled reply. “It’s her I want to taste, not fucking peaches.”
“Wait a minute, you can smell me? I mean I’m sure you can smell me now, but … before?”
“I ha’ a ‘en’ative nothe,” came the slurped reply against her ass, and she decided right then and there that she was just fine with that.
“I fail to see how eating her out is going to help ease the pain at all,” Dr. Clyde observed as Al licked and slurped and nibbled ever closer to the ache at the center that had nothing to do with the spanking.
“It’s my dream.” Leah protested, wriggling and squirming to open her legs against the restraint of the panties around her knees. “If I want him to do … that, then surely he should do that.”
“It’s hardly a punishment though, is it?” the doctor said, stepping back and folding his arms across his chest observing Al’s efforts from the edge of Leah’s peripheral vision.
“Who the fuck ca — res?” she managed with a little gasp as Al fingered her open to make room for his very talented tongue.
She was just getting into it, just beginning to think that maybe Al’s tongue was prehensile when she heard a grunt and opened her eyes to discover the good doctor had moved closer, and he was now observing with his trousers open, his gaze locked on what Al was doing to her bottom and his fist locked around his heavy erection, which pointed accusingly at her ass as he shifted his hips to free his balls. Not that she wanted him to stop or anything, but she was just about to comment that she failed to see what his cock stroking had to do with her punishment when the sudden absence of a warm tongue from her nether region and the sound of a zipper opening told her that, in solidarity with his fellow male, Al had just freed Simba. She pressed her legs tightly together and wriggled just enough for the binding panties to drop to the floor. Then she kicked them aside and she was free too, opening her thighs anticipating more than Al’s tongue when the damn doctor called a halt to all activities.
“Now what!?” Both she and Al growled at the same time.
“You’re not supposed to fuck her, Al. You’re supposed to spank her, punish her, make her repentant.”
“Oh I am,” she managed breathlessly. “I’m very repentant. I’ll never write down fake dreams again.”
Dr. Clyde ignored her. “Look, in the dreams, you’re both being punished. No
one gets satisfaction until the punishment is complete.”
“Seriously?” Leah said, and Al cursed profusely. Under different circumstance to hear such foul language from the mouth of her mild-mannered instructor would have shocked her, but at the moment, she was inclined to agree with him completely.
“Well, I suppose I could have some satisfaction,” the doctor added with a little shrug of his broad shoulders, and the movement made his dick look like it shrugged too in its anxious agreement. “After all it’s not my dream and I’m not being punished.” Cock in hand, he insinuated himself between Al and Leah and with a quiver of anticipation, Leah wriggled against the table as he fingered her open.
“Wait a minute,” Al said. “This is Leah’s dream. What if she doesn’t want you to fuck her? What if she just wants to get on with it?”
“No, no! That’s all right. I’m good with it. I’m fine.” Leah just wanted someone to fuck her and soon! Since it was her dream, why not the good doctor? He was certainly ready.
“That doesn’t mean you can’t put your cock in her mouth if you want,” Dr. Clyde said to Al. “I suppose that could be considered punishment. It could certainly be considered humiliation in most BDSM circles, if done under the right circumstances, or so I’m told,” he added quickly.
“What if I put my cock up your ass instead,” Al said, shocking both Leah and Dr. Clyde as he yanked at the waistband of the man’s expensive trousers.
Before the doctor could protest, Leah added her own bit of profanity to the blue language hanging in the air. “It’s my dream, damn it! So just put your fucking cock in his fucking hole already! I don’t see how that can affect my punishment. And when you do, I want to see, so Doc, if you’ll just hand me the mirror.”
“Wait a minute, Al’s the Dom, not you.”
“Shut up, Doc!” both she and Al said at once.
“It’s my dream,” Leah repeated, “Besides,” she added quickly, “I’ve never seen a man fuck a man before.”
“Come to think of it, neither have I,” Dr. Clyde said. “Do you think you can angle the mirror so I can see too.”
And just like that! They were all back in the shrink’s office again. “Nothing happened! Nothing the fuck happened!” Leah said, slamming both hands down hard on Dr. Clyde’s ginormous desk.
“What the hell’s going on?” Al came to her side, limping slightly. “If anything the situation’s getting worse.” He nodded down to the enormous erection putting serious strain on the fly of his jeans and making him walk like he’d had a rough day at the races.
“He’s right,” Leah said. “You left us in a terrible state, both ready to explode, both bent over the damn desk with our pants down, and you …”
“You were sandwiched in the middle,” Al finished her sentence breathlessly.
“Oh my!” Dr. Clyde laid his pen down on the legal pad and tugged at his paisley tie, then he leaned over the desk giving them his full attention. “Well that was a very inconvenient place to call a halt to proceedings, wasn’t it? But I certainly didn’t do it. While I appreciate your high opinion of my abilities, believe me, if I were about to be the jam in a sandwich, well I certainly would stuck around for that. It all sounds rather delightful to me. “ He picked up the pen again and wrote on his legal pad in enormous block letters, NOTHING HAPPENED! “It sounds like you’re getting farther and farther off track. Tell me,” he said, rubbing his hand over his clean-shaven chin, “is it possible that you’re both still dreaming?”
“Don’t be ridiculous, of course we’re not still dreaming or we wouldn’t be here” Leah said, plopping herself down on the sofa, then standing quickly with a yelp, rubbing the stinging flesh of her left butt cheek.
“What’s the matter?” the doctor asked.
“It’s just that Al spanked me in the dream and you said it was too hard and there was a welt shaped like his belt and …” she fumbled open her jeans and bared her ass-cheek from its snug position in transparent red panties, both men leaning anxiously toward the southern exposure. As she very gingerly slid aside the panties, the room was suddenly awash in the scent of peaches.
“Well I’ll be damned.” Forgetting himself, Al reached out and traced an index finger over the stinging buttock, and in spite of the pain, Leah clenched and wriggled and swallowed back a little moan.
Dr. Clyde shook his head and offered a smug chuckle. “Sorry you two, but you can’t put the blame on me when you’re obviously still dreaming.”