Dream Control
by Ninebol
Marie and Linda had left the building and gone out for lunch today. They picked a quiet little restaurant that was an easy walk from the office. After they were seated and the host had taken their drink order, the talk turned inevitably to the office hunk, Jarrod. He was so handsome that nearly every woman in the building lusted after him. Linda was married, so her comments about Jarrod were just trash talk. But Marie was single and between boyfriends. Her fantasies had grown over the last few weeks. She had shared her school girl crush on Jarrod with Linda, and some of her comments were downright vulgar. But what she hadn’t shared with Linda was that her fantasies had grown increasingly explicit. For weeks now she had been regularly masturbating while images of wild sex with Jarrod spun around in her head.
Jarrod and several other men had been on the front lawn of the office building playing some pick-up volleyball as Marie and Linda left for lunch. Both had shamelessly ogled the men as they walked past. Jarrod was shirtless, showing off his toned swimmer’s body. That plus his blonde hair and those piercing bottle-blue eyes had given Marie weak knees. While waiting for their lunch to be served, the girls went to the toilet to clean up.
Once in a stall, Marie’s fingers immediately went to her crotch. For some reason, ever since she had begun these vivid fantasies about Jarrod, she had stopped wearing underwear and was keeping her pussy shaved clean. The short skirts she now wore made it quick and easy; she frequently found herself rubbing up her smooth snatch. Usually it was some random sexual thoughts about Jarrod that brought a secret smile to her lips. She would sneak in a quick feel and, for a brief moment, recall that fabulous orgasm she had given herself in the shower that morning. Other times it was a completely unconscious act. She’d be sitting at a stop light, or talking on the phone with a client, and she’d realize the tip of her middle finger was gently stroking up and down across her clit. She would pull her hand away, wondering how long she’d been at it. Had any body seen her? The lingering stink of a horny pussy was constantly on her hands and she savored every bit of it.
Linda was in the next stall, so Marie had to keep it quiet. She hiked her dress up and sat on the toilet, getting right down to business. Her cunt was already dripping wet and her labia were swollen, her clit was fully engorged with blood, nearly the size of a thimble. She knew that another glorious orgasm was only moments away. She called up the vision of Jarrod playing volleyball, his taut athletic body jumping, running, barefoot... naked... erect... penetrating... thrusting... Oh god, hear it comes... almost...
Suddenly someone kicked in the door to her stall. The door slammed into her knee and she screamed in pain. It was Jarrod, or maybe not? This man was huge, hairy, an ugly. Marie’s attacker grabbed her around the throat. His calloused hand was so big, his fingers met themselves at the back of her neck. He lifted her off the toilet and dragged her across the ladies room. With one hand around her neck he lifted her onto the wash counter and slammed her head against the mirror. It shattered with a loud crack. He leaned forward and roared profanity at her. His breath stank and his teeth were crooked and rotting. But those eyes, those endless hypnotic eyes, it was definitely Jarrod. Yet he had changed. It was not the same Jarrod who moments earlier could fulfill her every dream.
Marie lost control in her fear and emptied her bladder right there. She called out for help, but when Linda exited her stall, she calmly washed her hands in the next sink. Linda left the room, as if she was blind to the brutal attack happening right there. Other patrons moved about, oblivious to her plight. She begged for mercy, but he just laughed.
“Let’s see if you’ve followed your instructions.” He bellowed. With his free hand he gripped the front of her dress and jerked it completely off her body, throwing the urine soaked rag aside. She tried to cover her breasts, but he slapped her hands away. “You stupid fuckin’ slut!” he screamed, “I told you to get these titties pierced! What kind disgusting whore are you? You like getting’ the crap beat outa ya?” His free hand slipped between her legs and cupped her cunt. “Nothin’ down here, either! Well this is gonna hurt you a whole lot more that it’s gonna hurt me.”
Jarrod rolled his right hand into a massive fist. His first blow landed on her solar plexus, knocking both the wind and the will to fight right out of her. Two more blows landed in her ribs and she could feel them snap like twigs. Next he punched her nose and it broke with a sickening crunch. Now with an open hand he slapped her repeatedly. Her eyes started to swell shut and blood ran from her nose and mouth. Marie looked down at Jarrod’s erection; it was a monster, cartoonishly large, like from some beast in a cheap horror movie.
Jarrod pulled her off the counter and spun her around facing the shattered mirror. She looked at a dozen copies of her battered face. She felt his cock at her asshole, and with one quick thrust, he was buried all the way up her rectum. Her anus ripped at the forced, unlubricated entry and he took up a steady rhythm. For several minutes he sodomized her and she was forced to watch a kaleidoscope of her anal rape in the mirror. Then as his pace quickened, he pressed her face into the sink of water. She choked on the water as it filled her lungs. His body stiffened and he began to pump her bowels full of semen. Just as Marie began to asphyxiate, she came hard, and as the world began to fade, she woke up.
Marie was alone, lying face down on her bed, her legs dangling off the end, her but thrust up in the air in a classic rear-entry pose. She was naked; she was not allowed to wear clothes in her apartment. Her right hand was relentlessly rubbing across her pussy. She rolled onto her back, knowing exactly what was next. She grabbed a dildo and started using it on herself. Her masturbation continued without stopping and a phantom image of Jarrod filled her mind. This time it was the real Jarrod, not the ones in her dreams. He was neither handsome nor ugly.
As dreams go, Marie could not truly remember what the dream lover/rapist looked like. She could only remember a faint pleasantness about the handsome Jarrod. And even though the terror and pain of her rape dream was fresh enough that she still trembled in fear, try as she might, she couldn’t call up the image of her attacker or even the details of what he had done to her. Only one thing stood clear; his eyes, as blue and bottomless as she had ever seen. This one, an imaginary version of the real Jarrod, was just your average looking schmuck.
The dreams Marie had were always changing to new places and new scenarios. If she was being punished, some terrifying Jarrod/monster would rape and torture her. When she obeyed, a tender gentleman, hot lover Jarrod would take her to new heights of pleasure. But when she woke up, she was fucked by this accurate looking representation of the real Jarrod. This one, the real one, used her as a simple sex object. He obviously enjoyed himself, but the imaginary activity brought no pleasure to Marie. He would enter her without foreplay, pump her without rhythm, spend his seed and leave her horny and unsatisfied. Her hands operated outside her conscious control, keeping time to the phantom Jarrod that was fucking her. Unable to stop, she masturbated with the dildo until the phantom Jarrod was finished. As the phantom vanished into the dark room, she pulled the dildo out and carefully cleaned it with her tongue. Then she drifted off to sleep.
Marie was ecstatic. For weeks she had been flirting with the new tenant. Though he seemed mildly interested, he had never taken the bait. He would politely deflect her comments and then positively melt her with his rich smile. Finally she had enlisted Linda’s help. All three lived on the same floor, and with Marie’s urging, Linda had organized an informal FAC for everyone on the floor. Marie had taken the lead and asked Jarrod to join her on a picnic. The moment he had accepted, her nipples had hardened and her neck and face flushed with heat. City Park was two blocks away; the date was tomorrow, Saturday.
The morning had dragged by. She assembled a simple lunch into a basket, complete with a sweet wine and a soft blanket. She checked and rechecked her makeup to be perfect. Marie tried on nearly a dozen different dresses. She settled on a light flowery sun dress and flat sandals. She was determined to seduce him, so she chose to wear no panties. She would find some innocent opportunity to let her already high hemline ride up to expose her treasure to him. She frequently ran her fingertips across her cunt, ensuring her shave so there wasn’t even a hint of stubble. Marie was literally squirming in anticipation when the door knock came.
After some shy chit chat, they walked down to the park. Jarrod laced his fingers into hers as they walked, and Marie pressed her warm lush body next to his. They found a sunny patch of grass and spread out the blanket. It was so peaceful, and romantic. Some teenagers played Frisbee golf. Two young boys threw rocks into the lake. New mothers pushed their baby carriages. A pack of hunting dogs brayed in the distance.
Hunting dogs? Marie jumped up in sudden fear. She had wandered from the path and now she was alone in the forest, lost. The barking came closer, so she ran away from the sound. The trees closed in and thorny underbrush began to tear at her dress, ripping it away in patches. She lost her sandals, and soon she was naked, running for her life. Balance was difficult, for her hands were tied at the wrist. Her legs grew weak and sluggish. She tripped and fell, finding herself flat on her back. Roots wound around her ankles and pulled her legs up and apart. Her arms were pinned above her head. She lay there writhing, nude, her sex completely exposed, shrieking in fear. The dogs arrived and formed a circle around her.
Much snarling and snapping ensued as each dog reasserted his position in the pack. After a minute they all settled down with the lead dog standing between Marie’s parted legs. The alpha dog reared up onto his hind legs, stood upright, and changed. There stood Jarrod, huge, muscled, unshaven, filthy, repulsive. He shook his head in obvious disgust. “When are you gonna fuckin’ learn?” Jarrod grabbed a handful of the underbrush and rolled it into tangled bundle. He proceeded to whip her with it. Each stroke dug dozens of thorns into her flesh. He whipped her breasts, chest, neck and face. He attended each leg in turn and blanketed her inner thighs with ripping strokes. He flayed her crotch with hard strikes. Soon she was bleeding from head to toe. He slipped each ankle over a shoulder and shoved his massive cock deep into her. Each thrust pounded into her and the gravel and dirt began to shred the skin on her back. He kept his rhythm even for several minutes. When he came, she joined him.
When Marie woke up, she was already on her back. She was already shoving a fat dildo in and out of her cunt. The phantom Jarrod was already on top of her grunting his way to a quick orgasm. When he was done with her, he vanished. She was alone, still shivering with fright. The nightmare was already an evaporating illusion, the details gone. All she could remember was her instructions.
By now, Marie’s genitals were sore from all the self abuse. She quit stabbing herself with the fake cock and calmed herself as best she could. She licked the dildo clean and left it on the bed with the others. It was morning, and it was time to get up and start her day. That had been the fourth nightmare of the night. She knew she would submit today, she had no choice. She would do as she was told.
She would take her shower and perform her daily ritual shave. After removing all the hair from the neck down with a disposable razor, she used one of the shower dildos on herself and endured another fuck with the phantom version of Jarrod. If she didn’t shave and masturbate every single morning, she got raped that night in her dreams. If she didn’t lick a dildo clean after use, she got raped. She picked out her clothes for the day and hung them from a hook by the door. Then she ate breakfast in the nude and put on heavy makeup for work. Not until right before stepping out the door was she allowed to dress. She dared not wear anything but high hemmed, low cut, tight fitting dresses, thigh-high stockings, and open-toed pumps; nothing else. It had been months since she had put on a bra or panties; she new better. Skirts and blouses were not allowed, just tiny dresses.
Today she had called her boss’s voicemail and told her she would be late. Linda was her boss, and she wouldn’t question it. Linda was also shaving from the neck down, and having frequent sex with the three fantasy Jarrods. Marie was Linda’s secretary, and the two of them had been in several meetings with a wealthy new investor at the bank. Each time Jarrod would sit quietly in a closed room with the two women for an hour mentally rewiring them. At the end of the meetings, he would have casual sex with both women, leaving them sexually unsatisfied, but with their pussies filled to overflowing with his seed, leaking down their legs. After each meeting, both women would live with additional daemons wound around their brains. They found themselves unable to talk to anyone about their predicament, even each other.
Some of the daemons Marie now lived with took direct control of her actions, operating her as a puppet. Other changes in her life required her participation. New instructions were delivered in her dreams by either the tender loving handsome Jarrod or the brute. If she followed instructions, she would enjoy nighttime visits from the handsome Jarrod. These dreams always left her thrilled, sexy, and satisfied. Her mornings were fresh and happy. But if she balked at some new instruction, the ugly thug Jarrod invaded her sleep giving her abusive rape themed nightmares. The nightmares got more violent and frightening until Marie relented.
Today Marie relented. She picked up the small box he had given her in the last meeting and drove over to a shop called Tribal Rights, a tattoo and piercing studio. She plastered on a fake smile and entered.
She told the technician what she wanted, but he balked. “That is too many for one session. It will be a lot of pain.”
She insisted, so he agreed. When asked to pick out the jewelry, she handed him the box.
His eyes sparkled when he opened it. “Are these real diamonds? By god, they are! Step behind the curtain. Here is a smock you can wear.”
Marie pulled the curtain closed behind her, but didn’t wear the smock offered. She peeled off her dress and hopped up onto the chair. She settled her knees over the stirrups and began masturbating. She knew she was getting off easy here. A month ago Linda had taken a full week off from work unexpectedly. When she returned, she sported a pair of large silicone tits. They were so big, they were obviously false. But they sure got your attention. Marie had always been blessed with naturally large breasts, but Linda’s were now much bigger. What Marie was about to do seemed much less permanent; rings could always be removed.
She kept on stroking when the artist entered. He smiled, and adjusted his cock in his pants. “You have to stop now. I have to scrub you clean and you cannot touch yourself while I work. Do I need to restrain you?” Even though he was wearing a surgeon’s mask, she could see his grin was wide.
“No, sir, you may go ahead.” She quit, inwardly frustrated.
He got to work, cleaning her hairless crotch and jutting nipples with antiseptic wash and letting it all air dry. He started by piercing her nipples first, then her puffy swollen labia. She winced each time the needle penetrated, but her breathing and expression was that of a woman receiving great sex.
Most women have a clitoris too small to pierce. But the artist found that Marie had an exceptionally large one; perhaps the largest he had ever seen. It was an easy target, and as the needle pushed through her most sensitive organ, she came, whimpering softly and doing her best to stay still for him.
It was all done. After cleaning up the blood, Marie was the proud owner of three diamond rings, one in each nipple, and one dangling from her still erect clitoris. She also wore six simple gold bands in her labia, grouped down low surrounding her vaginal opening.
When she asked that all of the rings be permanently closed, he refused. “Come back in three weeks when everything is healed, and I’ll gladly weld them closed, no charge.”
After learning about proper care for her new body additions, she paid the man and went to her office. Linda didn’t question where she had been. She simply gave Marie some work to get done.
Despite the dull pain in her parts, Marie’s mood was quit upbeat the rest of the day. The new jewelry in her genitals kept her on a slight sexual edge throughout, and she decided she needed a drink on the way home. She pulled into one of her favorite watering holes after work and ordered one, then two glasses of wine. As the place started to fill up, things got a little livelier. Some fellow asked her to dance and she accepted. One thing led to another and soon they left together for her place.
They barely got in the front door before they were at each other. Their first fuck was frantic and disorganized. They didn’t get beyond the living room and nearly ever piece of furniture was left smeared with their combined fluids. The place was a wreck, and by the time he unloaded into her, she had enjoyed several fabulous orgasms. After resting a short bit, they retired to her bed and continued with nearly the same pace. He seemed to obsess over her jewelry. It kept him hard for long stretches and he tirelessly pounded her. After she would have three or four full blown orgasms, they would switch to a new exotic position and fuck some more. His stamina was incredible, his sense of timing perfect. When he did come, four more times during the night, she felt the most wonderful feeling of well-being wash over her. When he wasn’t hard, he used his tongue on her to keep her right on the verge of ecstasy.
Not until the light of day slipped into the room did he finally quit. He lay on his back and she on her side, resting her head on his chest. Her eyes were fixed on his cock, impressive even when soft. She knew if she touched it with her hand, he’d get hard again and she would be late for work. She had never felt this happy, not once. He kissed her on the forehead and she lookup up into his deep blue eyes.
“Marie?” he asked softly.
“Yes my love.”
“There’s something I’d like you to do. You know that sexy boss of yours, Linda? Every workday from now on, at least once a day, I want you to kneel down behind her and lick her asshole.”
Marie sat up in bed. She looked at the clock; it wasn’t even midnight yet and she had just woken from the first great dream of the night. Due to her fresh jewelry holes, she was exempt from masturbating. She lay back and spread her legs wide, accepting Jarrod’s phantom fuck. He left her horny and eager to get back to sleep.
Marie had four more wet dreams that night, each one more lurid and consuming than the previous. During the last one Linda’s image drifted in and out. When Linda appeared, Marie would eagerly lick her crinkled anus. Jarrod leaned in close giving detailed instructions. He had Marie leave copious amounts of saliva in her crack and he would then fuck Linda’s well lubricated butt. Watching him sodomize her sexy boss made Marie extremely horny, and she masturbated ferociously. The anal sex was giving Linda a stream of orgasms and Marie was having them from just watching. When Marie woke up, she knew what she was. When she got to work she would be Linda’s ass licking secretary.
The whole drive to work, she wondered how she would approach her boss. She couldn’t imagine just outright asking her boss if she could lick her butt. Right after she arrived, the intercom buzzed “Marie, would you come in for a moment?”
When Marie entered her boss’s office, she found Linda bent forward over her desk, knees wide, back arched, her ass held high up. The skirt of Linda’s expensive business suit was bunched up past her waist and, of course, she wasn’t wearing panties. Linda had reached back and was pulling her ass cheeks apart. Marie recognized the rising whining Linda was making. She was only several licks away from orgasm. Marie’s mouth watered, but she didn’t swallow, knowing she would leave Linda’s crack dripping wet.
Marie recalled her exact instructions, ‘... at least once a day...’ She smiled devilishly, and quickly knelt down. She inhaled deeply, taking in the rich aroma. She spit several times, watching her saliva drool down across Linda’s anus, asking, “Linda, if I lick you five times a day, will our dreams be five times as sexy?”