Thesandman: Dream Walker

Authors note: As very special favor for some very special friends, I've been asked to resubmit a couple of my older stories once listed under Thesandman. It is not my intention to submit all or many of my older works, but for those who have truly supported and appreciated my writing over the years, I have relented to do so. Additionally, I will not turn voting on for any of these, as they have had their moment in the sun so to speak.

But for those of you who've asked: Resubmitted

The Sandman, "Dream-Walker"

Long ago when I was very young, my Grandfather once told me about "Dream-walkers". I didn't fully understand then the meaning of that, or what it meant until much later in my life. But he told me that being able to Dream Walk wasn't a generational ability, though it had manifested itself down the family line from time to time. It had been a long time since a Dream-Walker had been borne, but as I had been having dreams, which were more like out of body experiences, he had told me this was a good sign that perhaps I might in fact be one, and eventually learn the secrets of Dream Walking and what that would eventually mean.

Sometimes when I dreamed, I would see what I could only describe as a thin blue colored shimmering curtain. When I parted that curtain, walking through it, I entered a realm of sparkling lights surrounded by total darkness, a void that was infinite. Over time I learned that I could go to any one of those lights in the blink of an eye, no matter how far or distant it seemed. The twinkling lights became bubbles, not unlike those we have all created at one time or another with a mixture of soapy water and a cheap plastic dipper that we blew on to form the type of bubble's that existed in this world of dreams. I learned that small bubbles were simple dreams of children, and that the larger the bubbles, the older the person was who might be found there dreaming. As I learned, explored, and eventually came to know, color's signified the types of dreams a person was having or experiencing. Through trial and error, exploration and experience gained in my occasional nocturnal excursions, I found that bubble's, which had a purplish tinted color to them, were usually those of people who were having some sort of sexual dream. The deeper the color, the more erotic, and so on. I also discovered that once I had visited a particular individual, I could return to them anytime I liked, instantaneously, regardless of the thousands, tens of thousands of sparkling bubble lights that seemed to hover nearby any one of them I had visited previously. The first time I had made this particular discovery was quite by accident, but it was the springboard for what I can only say became a near constant obsession for me afterwards whenever I found myself in the "void", and dream walking.

As I had learned, I could slip inside someone's bubble, someone's dream. In that instant, I took on shape, became apart of whatever it was the person was dreaming about, including their surroundings. I became then apart of their dream experience.

We all know how disjointed dreams can sometimes be. People, places, even situations can suddenly change in the blink of an eye without rhyme or reason. And being apart of someone else's dream, when you haven't learned how to control that, can be a little eerie.

I had just slipped inside a young woman's bubble dream. At the time I had not yet fully learned the various shades and colors that implied what type of dream a person or individual was having. I had picked this particular bubble as it seemed closest to me, and the color was a light shade of violet, which I was attracted to for his alluring beauty more than anything else. I eased through the outer wall of the bubble, and suddenly found myself standing in a young woman's bedroom. She was sitting at some sort of vanity desk preening her self and brushing her long blonde flowing hair. She was wearing a sheer white nightgown that did little if anything to conceal her womanly charms, and I judged her to be in her late teens by all appearances. I had not moved after just entering her dream, but realized if she turned in the slightest, she would see me, or at least in my mind, I felt somehow that she would. Spotting an area of concealment next to her canopied bed, I envisioned myself hidden away behind it, and suddenly I was. There was a brief moment however when the young woman perhaps sensed my presence and turned to face and look in the direction where I had first been standing. In that moment, her hair changed from the long golden blonde it had been to a much shorter dirty blonde coloring. Additionally the white night gown had also disappeared, and she as sitting now in a well-worn, ill-fitting pair of baggy pajamas instead. Spotting herself in the mirror this way, once again the image shimmered and returned to the way she had obviously first imagined herself to have been when I first entered her room. She quickly finished brushing her long blonde hair, then stood. A mirror suddenly appeared behind the door where it had not been previously. She walked towards it, and as she did so the white nightgown suddenly dissolved so that she as now standing in front of it totally nude. I watched her turn, studying herself in her reflection.

I inwardly smiled to myself. As the young woman turned, I noticed her breasts suddenly enlarge, they grew to enormous proportions initially, but then as she continued to turn studying herself in the mirror, they seemed to go through a wide myriad of changes and shapes. She finally settled on breasts not too far differently than what I had first seen nestled beneath the confines of that sheer white gown. They were perhaps a bit more perky, nipple's which were now slightly upturned at an angle, than as they'd originally been and perhaps a bit fuller in shape as well. Satisfied with this new image, she looked at herself and suddenly a much tighter firmer tummy appeared, she didn't do anything that I could see or notice to change the appearance of her neatly trimmed pubic patch, except perhaps to lighten the coloring to more closely resemble the hair on her head. Once again, she turned to view her new self at all angles within the floor length mirror. Satisfied she smiled, and then I watched as she slipped a hand slowly and gently down between her legs.

I was totally unprepared for what happened next. Still too new to understanding what Dream Walking was all about, or of the possible dangers or side effects to having invaded someone else's dream, I became disoriented momentarily as the girl suddenly disappeared and the room and surroundings changed. I was no longer hidden, or standing beside her bed, but found myself standing out in the open once again. Thankfully however, my presence remained undiscovered.

Glancing around me, the room had turned into a magnificent field of brightly colored flowers. Bright sunshine, warm and delightful fell upon me. The young woman was still only a few feet away, but thankfully now engaged with a young man as they lay atop a blanket spread atop the wild grass and flowers of the meadow I now found myself standing in. I quickly dropped down, envisioned the grass high enough to conceal me, and thankfully it did. I was learning, and quickly. But it was obvious I still had much to learn yet about Dream Walking and all that it entailed.

In my newfound concealment, I continued to watch her now as she lay beneath the man who had suddenly joined us both. There was something vaguely familiar about him, though I could not initially place who he was, or where I had seen him before. It was only when she was obviously in the throes of ecstasy, close to achieving orgasm did she call out his name, which I only then recognized as being a young actor of recent rise to stardom and fame amongst the younger set.

I watched him make love to her, watched him kissing her and caressing her with wild unabandoned passion, watched as his extremely thick long erect penis filled her, moving in and out of her so smoothly and so slowly, obviously pleasing her in exactly the way she had wanted him to do, or in this case, was without specific words, having him do.

Once again, as he kissed and suckled her breasts, they seemed to grow to even slightly larger proportions. Even her nipples grew fatter, more elongated, and he cupped them in his hands and told her how beautiful her breasts were, and how he enjoyed touching them and playing with them.

It was when things had seemed to go past that wild climatic ending I had watched and observed, that I realized how precarious my situation actually was. Once again the meadow seemed to be shimmering as though fading away. The famous young actor dissolved away into nothingness, and the young woman once again resting comfortably atop her own bed, hair back to the short dish-water blonde color I had seen it, and wearing the same faded worn pajama's I had startled her back into wearing once previously.

Worse, where I had been only moments ago half kneeling, half lying in a tall patch of grass, I suddenly found myself in that same position, but now fully exposed in the middle of her bedroom floor with no place to hide. I worriedly glanced about for an exit way, and immediately spotted her bedroom door, only now it wasn't the door really, but that shimmering blue vale of light from this dream back into the void from which I'd come. Having no choice, I stood and bolted for the door, heard a shrill scream arise from her as I rose and departed, though not looking back as I did, and managed within seconds to literally dive through the opening. That scream, her scream was cut off abruptly the moment I reentered the void. I saw the path in which I had come; somehow it lingered in a shimmering effervescence of its own, guiding me back through the void, back to my own dream sphere, my own bubble. I soon pushed against the thin layer and slipped through and immediately awoke.

It was morning, and as the new days sunlight peeked through the half parted curtains of my window, I wondered how the young woman would think upon, or possibly explain away the strange encounter, the strange dream she had experienced. What had started out, or been for her an erotic fantasy of making love to someone she obviously admired, even had a romantic crush on perhaps, had turned into an unexplainable nightmare at the end. For that I felt a little guilty, as it had not been my intention for that to happen. But I am sure that she no doubt would remember when she awoke, the strange memory of some strange man she had never seen before, running from the middle of her bedroom through her bedroom door. Perhaps it would be at best a fragmented thought, something she would discard as easily as she first recalled it upon awakening. But I had learned much in this Dream-Walk, and that was, that I still had much more to learn. I could manipulate a person's dream to some extent, obviously become apart of it myself. Something I would have to be careful with in doing, if in fact I ever did. Secondly, I had no control of another person's dreams; I could just as easily be swept away or encompassed into whatever situation that person might fantasize or dream about. And I still had no idea as yet how that might actually impact upon a person's waking thoughts or memories of their past nights dreaming. Was that significant? Or not?

Dream Walking was for me not an automatic thing either. I wasn't able to control it, or do it every night. But when I did sleep, and when I did see that blue shimmering vale of light, I was very much aware of the void on the other side, and new that I could enter it then and venture out into the world of dreams. I was careful after that, sometimes peeking in, just inside a person's dream bubble, like a hazy thought just on the edge of someone's sub consciousness, lingering in the shadows like a forgotten memory or a thought...I was, "it's just on the tip of my tongue" in a sense, Knowing it was there...that I was there, but not quite grasping what it was exactly.

As I continued with my nightly excursions, I gained knowledge. One of the most important aspects of which was that I could control who I was or how I actually did appear to the person's dreams I invaded. It was a simple process really. Once I had discovered whom the person was that was actually dreaming, if there were more than one person within the dream, it was easy for me to "assume" the identity of the other whoever that may be. I simply saw myself as that person, and immediately took on their looks; mannerism's and speech even, though I had found in several dreams to my surprise, that there wasn't as much vocal communication actually taking place as one might actually imagine. It was a world of thoughts as much as anything else. Thoughts that were directed, picked up, acted upon as though having actually been spoken. And that was something else that took some getting used to. But with those projected thoughts, I learned much from them as well. I learned very quickly what was hoped for, or expected of me as though prearranged, choreographed ahead of time. Almost like walking into a scripted play, or an ongoing movie reel that could be played over and over again if the dreamer so desired it to be. I knew my lines then, almost ahead of time, and if I stayed within that context, went along exactly as I was supposed to, the dreamer, never felt or sensed anything differently, or out of the ordinary. Occasionally, when I strayed from that, or interjected anything differently, I noticed then that the dreamer seemed to pause as though struggling with the sudden unexpected change, and was not quite aware of how to respond to it. In these instances, natural normal everyday surroundings suddenly took shape, appearances became more closely associated to the persons real world and real self.

I had ventured out into the void, found a particularly interesting shaded bubble off in the distance and immediately headed for it. I took the time needed to acquaint myself with as much information as possible before joining the dream. I had learned previously that by throwing out simple 'thought-questions' I could in moments worth of time learn enough to know about the person of whom the dreamer was imagining. It was a necessary step and process in order to become that person, to be able to interact and go along with the flow of the dreamers' desires without upsetting the expected and natural flow of events.

And so it was that I came to know a very few special women, many of which I would visit with frequently and often. The first of which was Barbara.

She was, even in her dreams, her real natural looking self. And I liked that. She didn't try to pretend or be anyone other than the person she was in the waking world. But she was a different "acting" person in the dream world as opposed to the erotic world she sometimes found herself visiting. I had been drawn quite by chance; quite by random curiosity to her dream sphere that first night. Entering through her bubble, I had watched and observed her, saw as well as felt a long hidden longing for a particular individual. A man she had desired sought after for quite sometime without ever having told him that she felt the way she did about him. Only in her dreams of course.

When I first encountered Barbara, she was standing in what appeared to be an elegant sitting room of an elaborate hotel suite. She was pacing around the room somewhat nervously, anxiously as though waiting for someone to finally arrive. I shared her thoughts then, preparing myself for the part I would play in the scripted scenario of her dream. I quickly learned that she was awaiting the arrival of a man with whom she had had a very brief one time only encounter; it had not even culminated in their being together, a few very brief stolen kisses, passionate frantic embraces and caresses which had brought them both to the brink of finally consummating their encounter together. She had at the last moment pushed him away however and terminated afterwards any possibility of their ever being together after that. He was, her sisters' husband.

I waited until within the dream, he finally knocked. She had expected it of course, knowing exactly where it was she would be when he did knock. Barbara had in fact picked up the glass of wine that suddenly appeared on the table. She'd sipped it, and looked towards the door just a fraction of a second before the knock even came. She bid him to come in then, and he did. I took a moment to scrutinize him, place the physical of him firmly in my own mind, and then waited out the opportunity when I would step in and take over his part.

"You shouldn't have come." Barbara told him. "I told you we should never meet, never could ever take that risk. I shouldn't have told you I'd even be here visiting. That was my mistake and one in which I regret now having done."

I saw her turn slightly her back towards him as she ventured off towards the balcony, and in that moment, I became Andrew. I waited my next move, my next line as it suddenly came to me. Knowing now exactly how it was that I was to respond, what I was to say and do. I smiled inwardly, anxiously. I was excited.

She was a self-made woman of means. By her looks, she was in her mid fifty's perhaps even early sixty's though she certainly didn't look it. Even her dark colored hair, had only the faintest traces of gray etched in it, and not enough to detract from her still young looking face to belie her true age.

I knew I was to approach her from behind and throw my arms around her as she stepped out into the night onto the balcony. I knew then as well, I was to kiss and nuzzle her neck and be prepared then for her breakaway from me.

"Andrew. No. We can't you know that."

I was no more than fifty years of age, perhaps less even. I knew suddenly that I was married to her sister and had been for several years now. And I also knew as the memory of a night perhaps a year or so ago entered my mind, that she had wanted me, loved me even from the first time she'd ever seen me.

"No one but you and I will ever know." I retorted, once again going towards her. She had of course broken away from me, as I knew that she would. I had already seen all that and more in my minds eye. And I was expected, as well as directed to approach her again, which of course I did.

When I had first placed my arms around her and attempted to hug her to me, I had discovered in that simple act that she was obviously wearing nothing at all beneath the elegant silk gown that she was wearing. It was intended that I would of course, and I did.

The cool night air had hardened her nipples and as she turned around once again to face me, I saw them pressing against the tight smooth material of her elegantly designed garment. She knew I was gazing at her, looking at them hardening even more so, and she crossed her arms across her breasts.

"I agreed to see you. But only long enough to tell you to your face that we cannot ever again place ourselves in such a compromising position. I love my sister....and you, too much to ever want to do anything that would hurt or even possibly destroy either of you."

The sensation of actually leaving then came to me. I knew she was expecting, it was scripted, that I would stand there silently for a moment longer, would turn finally, and that I would then leave. She would go to her bed sometime afterwards, and fantasize about "Andrew" making love to her while she masturbated. So even in her dream, could she only do so about him, not even allowing herself the joy of making love to Andrew even in this realm, even in this so near innocent way.

And I wasn't about to do that. No way, no how.

I did stand there for a moment; she was after all expecting that. But I had in fact entirely removed all my clothing. Now the nice thing about a dream is, you can of course do whatever you want to do in an instant. So there I now stood, nude, sporting a magnificent erection. Andrew had a fairly nice sized cock in fact, and I was pleased that he did. It might help if this seduction was to actually work.. And I still didn't have any clue that it would yet; I was branching off into some pretty unchartered territory here. When the sound of Andrew walking away never came, Barbara turned, a somewhat puzzled, slightly curious expression already etched into her face. Seeing me standing there nude was as much as a shock as it was a surprise to her. Neither one of which had been planned for or prepared for of course.