The Shared Dream Ch. 02: Dan

Kyra was off being absolutely oblivious, but that wasn't particularly strange. It took one look at her, just one glance, and absolutely anyone would know she's an airhead.

Sorry. I know I sound bitter, super judgmental, and I also know making excuses will just make me sound like a whiner. Oh life's not fair. I have cancer. I can't just run around being free, completely oblivious to the world around me-

My therapist calls that "Unhealthy coping mechanisms," whatever that means. I'm dying. There's no such thing as healthy. If it makes me feel better, I'm gonna do it.

The downside of being observant, is the rest of us knew what that meant. Immediately. Something went wrong with the machine. Time moved slower in here. It could be centuries for us before anyone knew something was wrong.

That, of course, meant very different things to each of us. For the past year and a half I've been coming to terms with my inevitable demise, and now suddenly, not only will I get, I don't know, a hundred lifetimes, but I also get to be a God doing it? Sign me the fuck up. And let's be honest, I wasn't ever gonna get married, not looking like this, not with an expiration date. The life in here wasn't gonna be any worse, any less real than my "real" life.

So naturally, I'm on team do nothing and live like kings.

Brynlee and Kyra, if Kyra could be bothered to pay attention, they're so fucking self obsessed I'm sure they'd be my opposition. They'd panic not getting the constant validation, the constant praise, not being so close to their phones. It's not like they even had the imagination to make this place interesting. Then there was Juliet, some famous French singer. She too, would undoubtedly want to get out as soon as possible. All the money in the world, all the fame, her life couldn't be better.

That meant I'd be outnumbered.

That meant those three were actively trying to kill me.

Sam, fortunately, was fake (I knew the whole time), so he won't be a problem. That left Natalie. She, at least, will be on my side. Obviously.

We were still outnumbered.

"What do we do?" Brynlee was panicking. She started to hyperventilate. To keep myself entertained I imagined her head swelling up, thousands of warts and dots of acne popping up across her skin.

"Where's Sam?" the French girl asked in her insufferable accent. (You have the powers of a god and you can't be bothered to fix your fucking snot-filled accent? Seriously?)

"Sam was a program," I said, obviously, "They wanted to show off. They wanted us all to be smug, so they could say, and Sam here was a program the entire time, and you didn't even know."

"So we're down here alone?" Natalie asked. I stared at her and smirked as I forced a beard to start growing down her chin. Somewhere in the distance, Kyra was laughing like an idiot, giggling as she created a castle or something.

"How do we get out?" Juliet asked, more phlegm.

Brynlee, like an idiot, glanced at me.

"It's not like anyone will hear us scream," Natalie whispered, "We don't have a beacon."

I was mostly sticking around to make sure nobody was smarter than they let on. If I had to, I'd intervene and stop whoever tried to get me out of here.

The faces looked nervously between each other. Only Juliet seemed deep in thought, the realization finally hitting her, "The thing is," she said softly, "I'm not so sure this is a bad thing."

That one caught me off guard. As I'm sure you can easily tell, I'm typically pretty good at reading people. Especially basic people.

"Someone will come for us eventually," she muttered, "And I was having so much fun, so much freedom, I didn't want to leave anyway."

"Is it even safe to keep doing things?" Natalie asked, "I mean something's wrong with the system, and the system connects to our brains."

I nodded over at Kyra, "Don't seem to be any problems."

Brynlee was still hyperventilating, "Maybe there's a center or something. Maybe we just need to get there, turn it off manually-"

"Bryn, I don't think-" Natalie tried, "If we could control the actual machine in here- we could kill each other. Like for real. They wouldn't let us have that kind of access."

"Besides," I offered, "Even if we could, how would we know what to imagine? A system like this has gotta be pretty complex."

Natalie shot me an angry look, "So what, we do nothing?"

"No," I said. I let my hands start to glow with the power of a god, "We do whatever we want."

"I wanna get back to the château," Juliet said, "I was having a nice evening."

"By all means," I said, "Go- It's not like you wouldn't notice if something happened."

"You're really just walking away? Saying not today's problem?" Natalie asked.

I let my eyes get serious. "I've been saying that since I got diagnosed."

I allowed them to see me, the real me, for just a second. The bald hair, the atrophied limbs, the tracheotomy, "But if you're asking me to give up an actual chance at a life, then yeah, I'm walking away."

My appearance and my words seemed to do the trick. I turned and left the group, and no one bothered to yell after me.

Myself, I was having a nice little evening. My ultimate dream, of course, was meet a nice girl, fall in love, get married, yada yada yada. The life I won't ever have or whatever. But I only thought I had three days. So I went straight for the wildest fantasies.

My first idea was to fuck a girl who could morph her appearance. I didn't care where I was, I built a generic shack or something, a couch, a light, you get it. I laid back (why should I have to do any work? It's my fantasy?) and watched as a naked girl squatted down on top of me. I played with her eyes first, moving them from hazel to brown to blue. I tried fake colors like purple and red.

She rode me, and she'd never get tired. And I could last as long as I damn well wanted. In short, this was heaven.

Her breasts grew in front of me, phasing from fake to real, perky little apples to watermelons that slapped her chest like anvils. Her skin shifted in real time. One second she was a white 19 year old, sandy white hair, a surfer girl, the next an Olympian from Nigeria, her stomach perfectly toned, her fingers strong as she dug into my chest. I split her into two, one a Japanese maid, the other a French woman-

Actually, you know what? Make it Juliet. And make her love it. She rode and screamed, cresting orgasm after orgasm, when I started to realize I was dreaming way too small. Why limit myself to one cock?

My first instinct was to grow a second one, side by side. I looked between the two women and turned them into a pair of redheads. They straddled me, pelvis to pelvis, their pussies practically touching, and they started to ride. Left went down, right went up. If I weren't dreaming, I think I woulda lasted maybe half a second. It didn't matter how many penises I'd given myself, they both felt just as real, and the sensation made my brain start short circuiting.

Why stop there?

I let my legs grow, longer and longer. The shack moved around me, stretching to accommodate my insane height. Every foot and a half or so, I added another pelvis, another penis. And then I let my mind wander. Athletic redhead? Penis number one. Girl more plastic than flesh? Next in line. Any fetish I had, I snapped into creation, and imagined them straddling over me.

There's no way I can possibly explain the sensation of fifty women straddling fifty of my penises. Calling it otherworldly orgasmic would have been an understatement. A colossal understatement.

But I wanted to see them all. I pictured cameras all around the room, and gave them a direct feed into my brain. I saw them all, as real as I could see the hand in front of my face.

They all rode in unison, then a wave went through them, each riding just a millisecond slower than the one before.

They should be kissing.

The women started turned, squatting on my penis as they found each others faces. They played with each other, one hand on their pussies, the other on their tits.

I wanted a grand finale. In my mind's eye, I saw them all orgasming at the same time, their legs turning weak, their pussies pulsating- and I let myself have fifty orgasms at once. Every one of my penises blew the biggest load of my life. My eyes rolled back in my head, twitching, and my brain felt like it was about to snap.

I had so many more ideas like that. And believe me, I wanted to try so, so much before I tried the lame fulfilling life.

But Brynlee followed me home.

I opened the door with a pair of redheads at my side (can you tell I have a type?) and gave the girl a hollow smirk, "You want in? This party needs a real woman-"

"I came to apologize," Brynlee interrupted, desperate to change the conversation, "I didn't consider what you've been going through, what this would mean to everyone, and I'm sorry."

She glanced between the two naked redheads, "But now that I've said that- Dan. You're a terrible person. I wouldn't touch you with a ten foot pole, let alone fuck you."

I think that sobered me up a little. I still fucked the redheads.

Fine, I realized, One more night and then I'll doing the boring realistic life.