tagIncest/TabooDreamwalker: Forbidden Lust

Dreamwalker: Forbidden Lust


It was a bitterly cold, wet morning. The icy wind howled through the leafless branches of tall dark trees cutting ruthlessly into any exposed flesh it could find. It found the thin, hollow cheeks of old Tom Grady, as he huddled against the merciless chilly onslaught that threatened to freeze him to the bone. His black well worn boots trudged up the stony path that led to his friend Colonel James Rhys or the Colonel as most people called him.

Jimmy wasn't really a friend but more of a partner. Not a partner as in a couple but a partner in crime. Because what they did together was certainly a crime.

Two old men and an eighteen year old girl, fondling, rubbing, kissing and sucking. Helpless, subservient, compliant, eager to please, she seemed to like it and even if she didn't, they certainly didn't care. They took turns with her, sometimes alone, sometimes together, taking her in all positions and places. And she took it with perverse docility, only her eyes mirrored the emptiness in her soul.

Tom couldn't wait for tonight's session. He and the Colonel always had their night of sin every Sunday evening. What made the nights so special was that they always used the same girl. One would have thought that they would be tired of using the same girl again and again but that certainly wasn't the case. She was special, very special. She was special because she was the Colonel's only daughter Angelina or Angel as they fondly called her. She was the reason he was braving the filthy weather to feel her warm body in his old, gnarly fingers.

His knock went unanswered for a few minutes before the door opened to reveal the tall figure of Angela. For some reason Tim felt a chill in his bones and it wasn't from the weather.

Angela was not what you would call beautiful. Her name seemed inappropriate for her face as she looked a bit backward. Her eyes were too wide apart and her nose too broad. Her mouth was too big, although she had thick, juicy lips which Tom knew she used very well. Her treasure lay in her body which was so voluptuous that if it belonged to a smaller girl she would have looked fat. Her breasts and buttocks stuck out from her slight frame in right angles, giving her an S- shaped posture. She was a dumb blonde stereotype, a buxom young girl that looked like a CGI fantasy figure with about as much personality. Tom couldn't take his lecherous eyes off her. He wanted to tear the flimsy pink nightgown off her rack.

She was normally quiet and moody but tonight there was something odd about her demeanor. Tom noticed she was even more spaced out than usual- her huge, wide apart eyes were as cold and as empty as those of the dead. She just stood at the door and stared at him, her face completely bereft of any form of expression. Tim thought it odd that she answered the door. She never answered the door.

"Where's your father?" he asked curtly as he hurriedly came indoors and slammed the door behind him.

Angela continued to stare at him. Tom noticed that even though her eyes were staring straight at him, her ice blue pupils moved slowly from left to right. Like she was sleeping, he thought. Was she sleepwalking?

"Where is your father?" Tom repeated, gently this time.

"Daddy is not here" she said laconically. Her voice was flat and without the thick countryside accent she normally had.

"Then where is he?" Tom asked surprised.

"Daddy is no longer in this world. Daddy is in the well."

A cold shiver crawled up his spine and goose pimples broke out over his skin.

"What! What are you saying?"

Angela offered no other comment. Tom called out the Colonel's name. No answer. He proceeded to search the house expecting resistance from Angela. But she stood in one spot and followed his movements with blank, unblinking eyes. The Colonel was nowhere to be found.

But the well...? thought Tom in horror.

There was a disused well in the backyard. The thought of his friend being at the bottom on such a cold evening chilled him to the bone. He went to check...

A few minutes later paramedics pulled the unconscious body of Colonel Rhys from the bottom of the well. He had been bashed over the head with something hard and it was a miracle that he was still alive. He ended up in a coma and Angel was promptly arrested.


Chief of Police Jeremy Jones couldn't sleep. He tossed and turned in his bed, trying his best not to disturb his wife who lay next to him. Eventually he lay on his back and stared sightlessly at the ceiling, his right hand straying into his pajama trousers to touch himself. His mind, his thoughts, his dreams were full of only one thing: his daughter Karen. He wanted her so badly he thought he would go mad.

He suddenly got out of bed and silently left the room. Walking to the furthest door on the right side of the house, he placed his hand on the knob. He felt guilty and afraid but at the same time he felt excited. He turned the knob and slowly pushed the door open.

The room was submerged in darkness but a thin sliver of moonlight came through the half closed curtains and fell across her sleeping form. He walked over to the edge of the bed and stared down at his daughter. She was a ravishing creature- long raven black hair, an oval sensual face with smoldering dark eyes, a pert nose and luscious full lips. Her breasts were small but perky and seemed to punch holes into anything she was wearing. She had a perfect heart shaped bum that seemed sculpted from hard wood and legs that went on forever. Right now she lay on her belly, her face to one side, her hair a messy halo around her head on the pillow. Her right thumb was stuck in between her impossibly succulent lips, her eyes half-closed in sleep. She had on a t-shirt and a pair of baby blue briefs that fit her bum like a glove. Her exposed cheeks reflected the moonlight. She looked absolutely adorable.

Jeremy shivered and he felt his arousal mushroom into a full blown erection. He wanted to touch her so badly. He found it incredibly disturbing that he had these feelings for his only daughter. He had had them for a long time and they got more intense as she got older. Now she was twenty three and shockingly beautiful and her sensuality had eclipsed even the love he had for his wife. He had always been a faithful husband and father and had never done anything to offend them. But this passion, this lust was threatening everything he held dear including his sanity. If he consummated his lust he had no doubt of the consequences it would bring to his family.

He reached out and gently touched her back. He knew she was a very heavy sleeper and could sleep through a great deal of groping before being roused awake. Anyway he could always pretend he was checking that she was properly tucked up in bed.

After a slight hesitation he placed his hand on her bottom. His fingers inched slowly to her exposed flesh. He closed his eyes as he savored the soft, firm skin under his fingers. He left his hand there for a long time. He let his fingers trail the crack of her bottom and was even bold enough to give her ass cheek a gentle squeeze. Her only response was to grunt in her sleep and wriggle her bottom slightly. He reluctantly decided to leave. He badly wanted to feel her sharp, pointed breasts but she was lying on her belly and he would have to turn her over to get a good purchase. That would surely wake her. Taking one long, last look, he left the room. He didn't get the chance to try and get back to sleep. The phone rang and his deputy informed him that Colonel Rhys was in the hospital.


Middleton is an old, obscure English town lost in the countryside. Its population is barely above 5000 and its crime rate is probably the lowest in the world. It hadn't had a violent crime in the past two decades and this recent incident was going to upset the proverbial applecart. Chief of Police Jeremy Jones was very annoyed that his beloved town's idyllic existence had been shattered by this shocking incident.

Colonel Rhys was a loner that was rumored to be filthy rich. However he lived in a dilapidated cottage with his only daughter after his wife left him. He hated any form of technology and only managed to own a phone. He avoided banks and it was rumored he kept his money in gold bars stored somewhere in the house. No one cared to find out because he was a decorated soldier and owned an impressive arsenal that he was more than willing to use on trespassers or would be burglars. There were also rumors that he was shagging his daughter. Jeremy didn't like the man but then again, nobody did except for maybe Tom Grady who was a real creep.

Jeremy walked into the interrogation room and faced Angel across the table. She was wearing a see-through night gown and he could see her nipples. He felt instantly aroused and he was glad he was behind a table. Angel looked disoriented. She kept looking around her like she didn't know where she was, her face a mask of confusion.

"Angel, what happened last night?" he asked in a gravelly voice.

"I don't understand. What am I doing here?" She sounded scared.

"You're father is in a coma."

"What!" She looked at him in horror.

Jeremy was confused. She didn't look like she was play acting.

"Angel" he said softly, "You told Tom Grady that your father was in the well. That's where he was found with his head bashed in. An ashtray was found with blood on it. Unless Tom is lying it seems you were the only one in the house. He said you were acting strange like you were on drugs. What happened?"

"It was a dream..." she whispered, "Only a dream."


She threw her head back and began to scream.


Jeremy couldn't get anything out of her again and a shrink had to be called. While he sat brooding in his office, staring at a framed picture of Karen, his phone rang.


"Chief Jeremy Jones?"

"That's me. Who's this please?"

"My name is Amaka" Jeremy raised an eyebrow. The name sounded African but her English was flawless and without an accent. Her voice had a soft metallic quality and sounded cold. He had an idea she would be beautiful in a sinister way. "I have information on what happened last night. I would very much like to see you alone."

"Come down to the station."

"No" she said sharply, "Meet me at my place."

"Where do you stay?"

The address she gave him made him uneasy. It was on the outskirts of the town near an abandoned burial ground with dead leafless trees and soil permanently blackened by a mysterious fire that happened years ago. Townsfolk were superstitious and believed the place to be haunted.

"Alright, I'll come over."

"I'll be expecting you."

She hung up.


He knocked on the door and waited. He was looking at a pair of white sneakers that lay on the door mat which looked rather nice except they were caked in black mud. He didn't need to look closer to know that they were very expensive designer footwear. This African chick had money. And apparently she didn't mind spending it judging from the way she ruined those sneakers.

Amaka was a fair skinned Nigerian girl with a plain face but an excellent figure. Her eyes were however very deep and dark and she watched him with an awareness that unsettled him.

"Angel didn't intentionally attack her dad" she said flatly, "She was sleepwalking."


"Sleepwalking" she repeated as if he were a slow child.

"What do you mean?"

"I came to this country to complete a Masters' program at the local university and decided to stay in this town for a while. Angela is my friend. She might have some problems but she opened up to me. She told me she is regularly abused by her dad and it causes her nightmares. She sometime sleepwalks."

Jeremy remembered his desire for his own daughter and immediately felt a pang of guilt.

"This sounds interesting but I've never heard of anyone who attacks someone while sleepwalking. That sounds completely bonkers.

"That is what happened!"

Jeremy felt he had heard enough. He stood up to leave.

"If you insist."

"I sense you know more about this issue than you would care to admit."

Jeremy stared at her.

"What do you mean?" he demanded.

"I know your dreams. And you'd better make sure they don't come true."


Back home his wife told him she had to get out of town for a few days. She was a successful motivational speaker and she had a function to attend. Jeremy didn't mind. It meant he had Karen all to himself. Maybe something would happen, he thought. What would happen? Would he seduce his own daughter? Would that be taking advantage of her? He loved his daughter very much and only wanted the best for her. He wasn't a monster like Colonel Rhys. That he was very sure of.

Later that evening Karen came home from hanging out with her friends and playfully sat on his lap while he watched TV. She was wearing a halter and jeans and she looked gorgeous. She happily told him of her wild night while she unintentionally rubbed her tight bum on his crotch. Her mom was in the kitchen and they were alone. Jeremy prayed vainly for Karen not to feel his hardening organ as he playfully stroked her back. She leaned against him and a perky breast pressed against his cheek. He tried to remain cool but he knew she would soon feel something prodding against her. She turned to back him and his pole slipped into the cleft between her cheeks. She giggled and leaned back against him. Jeremy put his arms round her and hugged her from behind. He wondered whether she knew he wanted her. By now she must feel his hardness against her. Why didn't she react? He felt she was giving him a subtle sign. He couldn't wait for his wife to leave town.

The next day Colonel Rhys' ex-wife Marcy came to the station. She was a short, sturdy woman that looked as strong as an ox. She demanded to see Jeremy and what she had to say was the strangest thing he ever heard.

"That African bitch made my daughter attack James" she said.


"Amaka or whatever her name is, possessed Angel then hit James over the head and tossed him in the well."

"Possessed? Really? Like a demon? How?"

"She's a dreamwalker. She possessed my daughter and made her kill Jimmy."

Jeremy groaned and rubbed his head. Had all the women in this town gone completely nuts? This was the third one to mention 'dreams'.

"Could you please explain?"

"Amaka is part of some voodoo witch cult that can manipulate people through dreams. She can enter people's dreams and can make them do things while creating the impression that they are sleepwalking. She has Angel under her spell.

"Really?" asked Jeremy with obvious disbelief, "Does she also have you under her spell?"

"No" she said smiling coldly, "I'm one of the few who don't dream."


That night he couldn't sleep again. His wife would be leaving town the next day and he couldn't wait. However he didn't want to sneak off to his daughter's room to ogle at her. Even that was getting creepy. He decided to visit the Rhys residence and hunt for clues that might have been missed.

He opened the door and immediately he was inside he knew he wasn't alone. Someone else was in the house. He could feel it.

Whoever it was charged him like a bull, the head connecting with his stomach and driving the wind out of him. Simultaneously his balled fists crashed down on the attacker's back then they all went down together. Whoever it was tried to throttle him and he had to pull out his gun and pistol whip the assailant across the face. The hands left his throat and the figure collapsed.

Jeremy pulled off the ski-mask and saw the hateful eyes of Marcy staring defiantly back at him.

"The box of jewelry is gone" she spat almost tearfully, "That black bitch must have stolen it."

Down at the station, Marcy explained that the Colonel didn't keep his wealth in gold bars as was popularly thought but was stored in diamonds. The ice had gone missing. Jeremy didn't like this one bit. An open and shut assault case involving a depraved father and his deranged sexually abused daughter had turned into a robbery case as well. He just wanted the whole sordid episode to blow over so he could concentrate on trying to sleep with his beloved daughter Karen. Anyway he kept Marcy locked up.

The next morning his wife drove out of town and he smiled. He would spend his first night alone with Karen and he was determined to spend it in her bed.

Something else was bothering him. It had been knocking around at the back of his mind for hours but he couldn't nail it down. Suddenly it became clear to him.

"Shit!" He must be getting old he thought.

He drove to the graveyard and after scouting around was relieved to still find some tracks. They led to a freshly dug grave and after finding a shovel he didn't need to dig long before he heard a metal thud as the shovel hit something underneath the soft earth. He had found the box of jewelry.

Amaka was arrested. The soles of her sneakers identically matched the tracks on the burial ground. Jeremy had her hauled off to the station.

"What did you and Angel plan to do?" he asked her sarcastically, "Murder the old man and take the trinkets and run? I knew Angel was retarded but I never knew she was this stupid. You two are going away for a long time."

"And what now, Chief?" she retorted with equal acid, "You'll just go home to your daughter and have a great time?"

"What?" Jeremy asked warily.

"Don't do it" she whispered, "If you do it then you are no different from Angel's father and you will pay dearly for your sins."

He told her to shut up and left her in a cell to cool off. But he was spooked. How the hell did she know about his feelings for Karen?

He got home late and surprised to find Karen awake. She came downstairs to greet him, dressed in only sheer black lingerie that lovingly clung to every curve of her body. She threw her arms around his neck and kissed him on the lips.

"Hello, Dad" she breathed, "I've missed you."

He hugged her tightly and stroked her back. This was going to be easier than I thought, he reflected. He held at shoulder length and contemplated her. She looked lovely but something seemed different. She had this weird smile on her face and her eyes were vacant. She took his hand and pulled him up the stairs.

"Let's go to my room, Daddy. I have a surprise for you."

It was probably a minor quibble but Jeremy had never known Karen to call him 'Daddy'. She was a fan of Italian mafia movies and either called him Papa or Pops.

She led him into her room which was brightly lit. Apparently she had been browsing the internet because her laptop lay opened on her table. Facebook or some other crap, he thought. She dragged him to the bed and she fell back on it, pulling him down on top of her. Jeremy wondered if she was high on something since he couldn't perceive any alcohol.

"Make love to me, Daddy" she whispered as her hands went for his belt.

Jeremy grabbed her wrists in alarm.

"Karen, are you alright?" he asked in concern.

She stared up at his face. Her pupils seemed to have difficulty focusing on him.

"Come on, Daddy" she scoffed, "Stop acting like you don't want it. You've always wanted to get in my pants. You think I don't know?"

Immediately he felt ashamed.

"Karen, I..."

"Come on, Baby" she purred, "This is going to be fun!"

Jeremy decided she was doped to the nines and decided that he didn't care. This was probably the only chance he would get to sleep with his daughter. He pulled her close and kissed her on the mouth. Their tongues ravished each other.

He cupped her breasts and gently massaged them. They felt firm and hard. Her nipples stood hard and stiff like nails. She groaned deeply as he tweaked them. He turned her around and unlatched the bra. He made her face him again and he bent his head to her naked breasts. He slowly sucked and licked each one while gently tugging at the nipples with his teeth. She writhed and groaned like crazy.

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