Halloween Dreams: Katie

Since those nights, I’ve tried to tell anyone who would listen to me about the dangers that lay in wait at night. The dangers lurking within our dreams. Nobody believed me at first. Now everyone is cautious of sleep during the Halloween season. The Dream Teaser awaits.

The first night I just assumed was a regular wet dream, only far more vivid than anything before. It felt like a lucid dream, yet I was entirely restrained and unable to get away. When I heard that voice, asking me if this was indeed my deepest fantasy, I agreed. That was where I went wrong. If only I had known.

Of course, I had always fantasised about being in a bondage situation, entirely unable to escape or stop anything being done to me. However, I’d never felt comfortable doing it for real. It took a level of trust that I just didn’t quite feel was there with any of my partners.

In the dream, however, I was presented with that wonderful scenario, free to indulge as if it were real. If only I’d have known what I was getting myself into, would I have said no?

The moment my dream lover started pounding me, I knew this was more than a regular dream. It felt so real. I could feel every inch of his rock-hard length, every vein, to the point where I had to remind myself it was just a dream. Just a dream.

Though of course, it wasn’t just a dream… it was something more, something designed to torture me. In my fantasies, I’ve wanted to be forced to come more than I could ever actually handle. On my own, I simply have to stop after I get too sensitive. On rare occasions I can make myself come a second time, and it never feels quite as good as the first.

In this dream, I was stunned when I came as intensely for a second time as the first. And somehow it kept going. His cock was as hard as steel inside me… and so fucking hot. I knew of course it was a dream; no human could keep thrusting as long as this without reaching their moment. He fucked me to a third orgasm and a fourth, all while telling me that he was going to make sure I get the fantasy fulfilled that I had craved.

Every climax was as powerful as the last and it tore me apart. I was turned into a screaming wreck, yet it didn’t stop. I started to yearn for the reality of becoming desensitised after the first orgasm. At least then I could bask in the gentle afterglow instead of being dragged into the flames of this orgasmic furnace. Finally, when I was on the brink of tears from the level of pleasure I was receiving, I cried out that I needed it to stop, that I needed to wake up.

My dream captor then stopped and asked me a question:

“In your deepest fantasies, does it ever stop after you beg for it to stop?”

In this dream state, I couldn’t lie, the words spilled out without me even registering it.

“No.”

When I woke up, I just imagined that it was the most intense sexual dream possible. Other than fantasising about it for the rest of the day, it didn’t concern me. It was nice being able to fulfil a deep fantasy in a place where there was no pain and no after-effects… no consequence and not really a sense of time. I was just made to come for as long as it took to make me say it was too much to handle.

Maybe, when I was dreaming, I didn’t truly comprehend how torturous it would be to suffer through repeated orgasms without rest, without the limitations of what a physical body can handle. Whether through toys vibrating intensely against my clitoris, through being penetrated deeply, or through a mouth or fingers exploring my body intently, there are too many ways to make me cry from overstimulation. I was so glad that I had woken up before anything more was done to me.

It was when I next slept, and woke up in that same predicament, that I realised the terror of the situation.

“Let’s truly fulfil that deepest fantasy of yours.”

Image source: Kink