Phantasmagoria

I stared at the clock on the wall. It had a wooden bevel that gave the illusion that it was part of the wall but the clock face and hands were simple, black against a creamy white. The soft ticking was annoying at first as I tried to order my thoughts but eventually I gave in to it and it seemed to grow louder until it filled my mind, pushing out my reason for being here. I unconsciously tapped my finger with the ticking. My breathing slowed to three ticks inhale, three ticks exhale.

Something snapped. He called my name I think. I don't know how much time has passed. I start to apologize but fade mid sentence. He's looking at me expectantly.

"Tell me about the first dream."

I'm woken up when the hand goes over my mouth. My first instinct is to struggle but he shushes me and I recognize him. He's a friend - someone I find too attractive to ever seriously pursue. He's lying not quite on top of me. One leg over the top of one of mine. My gown is up around my hips. He looks into my eyes and doesn't speak but I feel his other hand on my pussy. He cups his hand over me and pulls me against him, turning me so that I become the little spoon. His hand moves so that he can put his arm under my head but I don't make a sound until his hand covers my mouth again.

The fingers between my legs are moving, rubbing softly against the outer lips and not even trying to slip inside. I can feel him growing hard against my ass and I realize that he's completely naked. I can't see him but I can because it's a dream and in a dream you can have two perspectives at once. I am me lying against him, staring across my bed, trying to process the touch of his hand on my mouth and his fingers between my legs but I am also me floating above us, looking down at his pale skin against my blue gown, the freckles on his shoulders and back that I had seen once when the guys were playing basketball at a cookout. I watched as his mouth pressed against my shoulder and both instances of me felt it.

The me in the bed closed her eyes but the floating me watched everything. He rubbed me in rhythm with his grinding hips and eventually I tried to open my legs for him. He stopped moving and pushed my legs back together.

"This isn't for your enjoyment. It's for mine. Stay quiet and don't fucking move."

I woke up.

My eyes focus on the clock again as I come out of the memory. I fidget with the fabric of the chair and my fingertips tingle. My skin always seems so sensitive when I think of the dreams. The arousal and confusion feels so real. I suppose that technically they are, even if the situation that caused them wasn't.

"I know that it probably feels safer to be lost in your thoughts but things could progress faster if you would focus." The man wasn't even looking at me. He was making notes. The scratching was almost in rhythm with the clock ticking. "What happens in the second dream, Ren?"

It starts the same as the first dream. He wakes me up when he puts the hand over my mouth. I'm wearing the same blue gown. Again, his fingers rubbing me but instead of pulling me against him, he shoves my gown up to my waist and pushes my legs apart. This time his fingers press into me but still just a teasing amount. He barely even grazes my clit and my face gets hot as I realize how wet I am. The slow caress drives me crazy. My floating self looks down on us, at my writhing under his hands. I can see now that the hand on my mouth isn't to keep me from saying no. He's keeping the noise down, keeping me held down. I'm back in my body as he spanks my clit without warning.

"What did I tell you? Don't move."

I didn't wake up this time. I stop moving and stare wide eyed as he takes his hand off my mouth. He's between my thighs and lifts my ankles to his shoulders. His left hand stays on my right ankle, rubbing it in that same slow deliberate manner. His right hand grips his cock and slides against my pussy. On the second pass he put just enough pressure to open me and I reflexively jerk awake.

"And the last dream?" He doesn't even give me a chance to wander.

I wake up in the dream with his hand over my mouth. He's thrusting in and out without hurry. Our gazes lock and he lowers himself to whisper in my ear.

"This is all you get. No orgasms for you. You don't deserve it, do you? No, you don't. So you are going to be fucking quiet and take my fucking cock or next time I will bring friends." His voice got even softer. "And they won't be as careful with you as I am, Ren."

I immediately feel my entire body twist in pleasure and panic over disobeying. I wake up in a fetal position.

I'm trapped by the ticking clock again. The sound of it makes my eyelids feel heavy. I can hear the slap of flesh meeting flesh. At first, it seems far away but it becomes louder and louder until it's joined by the sensation of a body behind mine. I try to open my mouth but his hand is over it and when he feels me try to move, he pulls me backwards against him.

"It was never about your friend, Ren. It was this. You needed to be used and discarded. You needed it so bad that you paid for me. Poor pathetic fucktoy. How does it feel to get what you wanted? Not too good I hope."

It felt like it went on for hours but in the way of dreams it could have been seconds, minutes, or more. He didn't caress or soothe, just relentless pounding into me. My nipples tightened and I began to twitch occasionally, getting closer and closer to the release I wasn't allowed. Until at last he bit my shoulder and thrust in one final time. As he held me still and filled me with cum, my body tensed with the unreached orgasm. A sharp slap on my ass snapped me out of it.

"Get dressed." He was already on the other side of the room, pouring a cup of tea. "Drink this. Are you ok?" I nod and sip. "Good. See you next month, Doctor."