Welcome 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.
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 all.”
“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.
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.”