The Dream Crystal
Journey Three
“In this journey, we’ll take a trip in time and space. We’ll travel into the past, to an exotic foreign land, and open a door to a part of yourself of which you may not have even been aware.
“Begin by making yourself comfortable. Let yourself release ... and relax ... release ... and relax. As you focus on your breathing, you can feel your body let go. It has become automatic for you as you respond to my voice. You focus now. Relax ... and focus ... deeply focused ... and deeply relaxed. You see the Dream Crystal, and you hear my voice. Nothing else matters. Your focus is deep, and complete. You’re deeply relaxed ... and deeply focused. You have a relaxed and open mind ... a deeply relaxed, deeply open mind. Deeper now ... deeper ... very, very deep. You want my ideas, my thoughts, my beliefs. You want to make them your own. Feel that deep, deep desire—to follow my voice, and have my words become your thoughts. So relaxed ... so open ... so responsive.
“We’re in an earlier time ... a different place. The world you know is fading away ... becoming unimportant ... distant. Your old self is being left behind ... no longer important ... small ... far away ... vanishing ... gone.
“We are inside a tent now ... a desert tent. The tent is draped in rich, hanging fabrics, some embroidered with fine patterns, others gauzy, silken. The tent is large, and is lit by dozens of torches. At one side of the tent is a seating area, with many large, comfortable pillows. You see me sitting here at ease, half-reclining on several pillows. You notice that I’m dressed as a sheik. My robes are white. My beard is full and dark. I’m wearing a white headdress, bound with a black cord. My eyes are deep, strong, kind. As you look at me you realize that I am the Sheik. There are dark serving men standing nearby- muscular men, bared to the waist, with turbans on their heads. Serving girls are in attendance, dressed in diaphanous fabrics and veils. All the serving women are extremely lovely, and their dress is quite revealing. There are also other men seated in the tent. They are clearly chieftains, although none are dressed as finely, or have the aura of command of the Sheik.
“You are dressed as a dancing girl. You are a dancing girl ... a harem girl. Your name is Daiah (day-ah), and you serve the Sheik. Since childhood you’ve been trained as a dancing girl, and for the pleasure of the Sheik. Your body is toned, and trim. You know all the dances by heart, Daiah, and all the ways of pleasing a man. Your deepest desire is to serve the Sheik, to please him, to be what he desires. You’re the finest of the harem girls—the Sheik’s favorite. It’s the only life you know, and it satisfies you completely.
“You are dressed in a dancing outfit, Daiah. A low-cut embroidered and beaded bra cups your breasts, revealing their fullness. Your arms and shoulders are bare, as is your midriff. A sleek, satin girdle encircles your hips, hugging them, supporting the wispy fabric that embraces each leg, a slit down each side revealing your shapely limbs. On each thumb and middle finger is a small cymbal, which you use to accent your movements. A number of gauzy, silken veils are draped over your body. The fabric is so sensuous, so smooth against your skin. You know that when you move, the outlines of your body will be suggested and partially revealed by these thin veils, enticing and seducing your audience. The veil before your face is almost transparent, giving just a hint of your lush, delicious lips.
“Seated nearby is a small group of musicians—a flute, drums, a stringed instrument. They wait, as you wait, quietly attentive, ready to respond to the command to begin. The Sheik and his guests have finished feasting. It’s been a long meal, and everyone is now relaxed, sipping Turkish coffee, nibbling sweets, being served by laughing, flirting serving girls. I clap my hands sharply, twice. It is time for the entertainment. As the musicians begin to play, Daiah, you slowly and seductively sway into the center of the room. Your eyes are downcast, your head bowed, your hands folded before you. Now you glance up, your gaze smoldering, seductive, meeting first my eyes—the eyes of your Lord, the Sheik, and then each of the guests. Your gaze challenges, says, “try to resist my seduction, to remain unmoved, unaroused, but you will fail.”
“Your dance begins. You start by moving just your shoulders, rotating them, thrusting your breasts forward, running your forefinger suggestively over your arm, along your shoulder, tracing your breasts. Your upper body sways back and forth in time to the music, gracefully, like a young willow in a gentle breeze. You are completely attuned to the music, the gazes of the men, the fabrics, your own touch. Your skin is so sensitive, each movement causes tingling and arousal. You’ve been taught to entice through your own arousal, and it’s so easy and natural for you.
“Slowly your feet begin to move, and your hips sway. You approach me, your Sheik, and your sultry gaze meets mine, your seductive power matching the power of command you see in my eyes. Your eyes speak silently, “I am yours, for your pleasure, to be taken, to be used, a thing of beauty and of delight, desire me.” Slowly you move around the room, swaying, moving seductively, speaking to each man with your dark eyes, weaving your spell.
“The music begins to quicken now, and you move into the center of the room. Your body responds to the music, Daiah, your hips move faster, while your upper body remains still. Faster and faster your hips move, so seductive, so enticing.
“Suddenly the music bursts into a wild keening new rhythm. You whirl around the room, the fabrics forming a cloud around your body. Your arms wave sensuously, the finger cymbals tapping out emphasis as your fingers beckon to first one man, then another.
“The music stills suddenly, and you come to rest. Now the music is slow, seductive. You remove a veil and trail it over your body, outlining the curves, the lovely rippling muscles beneath it. The fabric is so smooth against your skin, so erotic. For a time, you dance behind the veil, and then almost nonchalantly, you let it drop into the lap of one of the men.
“Another veil now, Daiah, and the music once again begins to swell and grow. You’re dancing faster, your seduction gaining power and intensity. Feel how aroused you are. Each veil reveals more of your body, leaving both you and the men more aroused.
“The last veil now, so little clothing remaining. Your body is revealed, Daiah—ripe, seductive, promising sexual delights. The men in the room are deeply aroused, you can feel every eye on your body. You drop the last veil into my lap and come to rest before me, your chest heaving, panting, your skin flushed, slick with perspiration. Your desire is so strong, so intense. Your eyes say, ”take me now, take me, I want you.“
“For the first time this evening I address you directly. “Pleasure yourself now, slavegirl. Show us how you respond.” I reach up, and remove the veil from your face. You bow your head, and then slip the cymbals off your fingers. The music starts again, now very slow, a hypnotic rhythm. Your desire to please your Lord and Master is so strong now, Daiah. You move as if in a trance, lost in your sexual reverie. With one hand you caress your shoulder, stroke downward, cup a breast, gently, rhythmically squeezing it. You slip the cup of the bra downward, revealing your nipple. It’s so incredibly tight, and tingles with pleasure as you run a fingertip over it.
“The other hand moves to the other breast and, as before, you reveal it to the eyes of your audience and the touch of your fingers. Your eyes are closed, your body slowly swaying as you continue to fondle your breasts, to caress the nipples. Your lips are parted and you’re softly sighing with pleasure.
“You run a hand downward over your smooth tight stomach. It feels so good, Daiah. So wonderful. Feel the fabric of your waistband, so silken, as your hand dips beneath it. Stroking downward, between your lips. You’re so wet. Your fingers stroke your hot, wet folds. A part of you knows you should have gone more slowly, let the tension build, but you can’t wait any longer. You’re so hot, so aroused, feeling so sexy and desirable.
“You bring your moist fingers to your lips, and suck a finger into your mouth. It tastes so good. Slowly, sensuously you lick each finger, playing with your tongue, feeling your pussy get even wetter. It’s so tingly, so ready. Again you stroke between your legs. More firmly now. Your cheeks are clenched tight, and you’re panting heavily. You slip your pants down, step out of them, making it easier to pleasure yourself, and giving the men who watch the joy of viewing your treasures. You slip a finger up inside yourself, and circle your clit with your thumb. Your hips are rocking insistently now. The music and beat have become unimportant, you are completely focused on your own rhythm, your own need. So close ... so hot ... so wanting.
“You open your eyes and gaze at me with longing, your eyes begging permission. I nod my head, and with three more quick firm strokes ... one ... two ... three, you reach your climax. Your body is shuddering with delight, trembling, quivering. Your voice blends with the music, wailing, crying. Every muscle is taut with pleasure. Feel yourself climaxing again and again. The pleasure is so intense, so strong, so perfect. Feel how it lasts and lasts.
“Finally, your body begins to still, and music quiets. You withdraw your fingers, licking them clean. You stand now, drained, your head bowed. I rise to my feet, and approach you. Your eyes are downcast, but you can see my feet before you. My hand strokes over your lips, your jaw, your brow. You feel my warm lips against your forehead. You hear my voice softly in your ear, “You’ve done well, my treasure, my little Daiah. Retire to my chamber, and await me there.”
“You glide from the room hearing the applause of the guests, feeling the deep, deep satisfaction of knowing that you’ve pleased your Master, and knowing that there will be even more pleasure to come.
“Now it’s time for our journey to come to an end. You’re returning to the present, back in your room, reclaiming your name, your identity, your everyday life. Yet you retain the memory of the pleasure and delight you felt as your Master’s harem girl, as the lovely, sensual, seductive Daiah. Rest quietly with eyes closed for a few moments, and then open them, turn off the tape, and enjoy the memory of this journey.”