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Old 11-09-2012, 08:59 AM   #1
LittleMissFixIt
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Where would you go with this?

"No one tells you about this part" I look up, jerked out of my own scrambled thoughts into the moment by an unfamiliar voice. I look up and study the older mans face and missing ear before responding. "I'm sorry, what did you say?" He cocks his head and looks bothered that I wasn't paying attention "I said .. No one told you about this part… you've been reassigned" I ponder the possible applicable definitions of the term and my blank expression must speak volumes because he lets out a long sigh followed by the explanation. "You have been reassigned to another male… and from what I hear, he's a miserable prick" He grins at me and a chill runs up my spine.

"Wait… where is my husband.. Where am I?" He gestures to the room… cold steel benches, blinding white windowless walls… smooth as glass floors. Nothing about this room lends a hint as to where I am as he enlightens me "You're dreaming girlie… and in your dreams you belong to someone else now. You're still you… but unlike your life, you're not in control, you aren't the boss… if you aren't sure what that means, you'll learn soon enough." I'm what, where and what the fuck is going on in my head? I'm losing patience. "So, you're telling me that I'm dreaming. None of this is real?" More of a statement than a question to be sure.

He stands up and jerks me to my feet by my wrist. A sharp pain shoots into my shoulder like a bolt of lightning as I cry out more out of reflex than the level of pain but who does this asshole think he is? He forces me against the wall, drawing both hands high above my head. I can look at him but I don't. I'm looking for the door. My heels aren't on the floor. My body feels oddly long as I am held against the cold, ugly white wall. In the midst of this exact moment, the vision of the jerk getting his ear cut off in a freak door slamming accident draws a very unexpected laugh from my lips. One is followed by another and then another and I am hanging there like the days most impressive catch laughing uncontrollably. He is visibly confused and rather than to let him in on the joke I manage to stifle my hysterics in less than a minute.

I take a deep breath and clear my throat "If I'm dreaming, who reassigned me? I didn't" He looked at me and grinned "Are you sure?" No more laughing. Suddenly there is nothing funny about this. Maybe I am not dreaming. Maybe this Lurch looking freak is just trying to make me think I am dreaming. My head spins. Is there anything I can do to figure this out. I'm lost. I'm confused. So, very unsure of anything right now. I will this guy to disappear, to turn into a purple unicorn… I try to wake myself up… nothing. He drops my hands and I slump against the wall, barely standing, keens weak. He lifts my chin with a single finger. The long nail of his index finger has a jagged part that digs deeply into my flesh and the sensation makes my jaw tighten. He draws and captures my gaze before he speaks "Nothing you think you know applies."

He walks to the door, half guiding and half dragging me by the same wrist. Makes me wonder who had put up so much of a fight before that he felt the need to be so rough. Wait, if I am dreaming, there has been no one else, right? Why would my subconscious decide that I needed to experience this? My thoughts distract me from the moment again. On the same wall I'd been sitting on and had subsequently been pinned to is a door way. Before I even have time to fully register it, he opens it and tosses me through it, slamming it behind me.

At first, I'm trying to tell myself to open my eyes but they ARE open. Going from the ugly, blinding white room to a dark room takes some getting use to. I wait for my eyes to adjust but nothing materializes. I back up but after taking several baby steps back I still feel nothing behind me. A few more and I give up. I stand still and try to gain my bearings. I'm naked. Birthday suit naked. My fingertips on my thighs alert me to the fact that I am wearing nothing. Was I naked in the white room? I suddenly have no idea. How could I have missed it if I was? My head spins. Okay. I have to get it together. I stand still and try to imagine the room I am in now. Try to hear… anything. Pin drop silent. I feel like I have gone blind and deaf. I speak. Some odd "ahhh" noise comes out and I hear it.. Or do I. The sound I make bounces off of nothing. In my mind I am standing in a black hole. A sudden wave of dizziness at the thought of being in such a vast void brings me to my knees and then to my hands and knees. I don't know what I look like. I am not even sure I know who I am. That freaks voice bounces around in my head "nothing I think I know applies…" No shit.

I am not warm, not cold. For that I am thankful. Being naked and either hot or cold would suck… kinda just as much as being naked and in the dark and alone. I make myself laugh. Really? I find myself chastising myself. I'm a great dreamer. I have had some dreams that we so real that I could smell popcorn from the street outside of a dreamt up theater but this… this is too real to be unreal… isn't it? I don't know. I know I don't know and I hate it. I suddenly wonder if I have fallen asleep in front of the tv again and something is influencing my dream.

I sit on the floor and take inventory with my hands starting with my feet. My pedicure is still in tact. The edges of my nails are filed smooth and even. My legs.. Yup, still have them both. The feet should have been a good indication. I tell myself to get serious.. This isn't funny. I realize if I then tell myself to shut the fuck up that I will be certifiably bat-shit. Am I? If you found yourself naked, somewhere darker than the deepest darkest cave with not a peep of sound other than the ones you make and oh yeah.. Naked… would you talk to you? I feel myself roll my eyes in the blackness. I have to get a grip.

My fingers find the apex between my legs and after planting my feet further apart on the floor I explore my own sex with my fingers. I have no idea if I took my clothes off or someone else did. I'm not in pain down there but running my fingers between my lips discovers no abnormal fluids or anything other than the usual degree of "wet-n-ready". I continue to exploration until I have reached my hair. I'm all here. Now if I could just figure out where the fuck I am. Crawling is more appealing than walking so I move forward onto my hands and knees again.

The floor baffles me. I can't quite figure it out. It's not cold or hot, just smooth.. Tile maybe? I amble forward. Without the ability to see, I'm only guessing that I am going in a straight line. A desert vision overtakes my thoughts as I crawl slowly. Miles and miles of nothing but smooth sand as far as the eye can see. Only my desert is pitch black and without a horizon. At some point in the seconds, minutes or hours that I am imagining crawling through the desert, I have crawled onto another surface. Feels like carpet. Incredibly soft, thick carpet. My hands and knees sink into it. It's the most incredible carpet ever. I succumb to the temptation to drop down to it, first laying on my stomach, fingers laced and chin on them. Chinchilla. It feels like fur. The softest fur I've ever felt. I raise up on my elbows and graze my nipples over the surface. I don't need to tell myself how good it feels. Within seconds the arousal of my nipples is nearly painful.

Collapsing down and crushing them against the carpet lends little relief. Turning over on my back I massage them in the dark with my palms more to calm them down than to excite myself further. I imagine having a blanket like this on my bed someday. The erotic nature of being made love to or savagely fucked on such an exquisite surface. I want to see it. I imagine it's the color of a chinchilla. Silver with a hint of black. I try and envision my naked body on it… just the tips of the fur teasing the arch of my back as I'm entered slowly. Yes, that's it. It doesn't take much thought for my mind to take it as a call to action. I squeeze my thighs together and a sigh breaks the silence.

The sudden touch of a hand on my ankle sends me scurrying like a crab in the dark. "Who's there?" My voice is odd and doesn't sound like my own. "Who touched me" What touched me crosses my mind but I dismiss it out of necessity. I am scared enough already. I jump. There it is again. This time my ankle and this time I know it is a hand because it isn't letting go. All I can do is resist. Stronger than me is the only thing I can think. Am I going to die? I'm I going to… "what do you want?" I scream. No echo. As loud as I just yelled and it bounced off of nothing. I'm losing it and I know it. One captured ankle becomes two as the hands hold both of my legs.

"What do you want?" The desperation in my voice makes me even more frightened and demands become begging "please" I practically whimper "please tell me what you want." Nothing. In the dark, hand over hand I am being crawled on, held down when I try to resist. My screams unanswered, my opponent unaffected. I'm clearly under a man. Not bigger than me by much but very much stronger than myself. In a matter of minutes even with a couple of momentary escapes from his grip, I am wearing down.

The expressions of frustration, fear, confusion… nothing is answered. "get the fuck off of me!" All you do is breathe. I try to move from under you but you will only allow so much. In my mind I am insulting you, your undefined heritage and your future bloodline but I'm not voicing it. I'm scared and.. I'm tired. I know you're a man because even though you aren't hard, your spongy organ is trapped between us and has been both against my belly and lower depending on how I was moving in a failed attempt to escape.

In a flash I am even more petrified. The idea of the Lurch freak with one ear… no, you're not over 6 feet tall… you're different. And still I'm not comforted. The fight has left me. A few half hearted pushes and pulls and I feel my body go almost limp. No tears, no crying at all. Just the unconditional surrender. With that, you roll off of me and are gone.

Enveloped in the darkness. Drawing myself up, knees to my chest I cradle myself. I'm not comforted. I'm aware that I am not alone but I feel more alone than I have ever felt. I voice questions. The go unanswered. I try insulting you. No response. I don't even know if you are still there. I can't hear you breathe. Minutes, hours… no way of knowing how long I sit still with my own thoughts, listening to my own voice. I ask you to come back before I even realize that I have said it. I don't understand why I would say that. Did I say it or did I think it. My head is spinning. What the hell is wrong with me? I'm not sure why but I want to know where you are. Is that it? I want to know where you are? Some control is better than none. Knowing where you are will give me some comfort. At least I won't feel like you're going to sneak up on me at any second.

A beckoning whistle in the darkness makes me jump. I don't know if I heard it or imagined it until you do it again. I turn my head in the direction of the sound and wait. "I'm not a dog" Nothing. Unsure if I have the direction right I crawl ahead. "This isn't funny" Nothing. I drop my head down in frustration just as your arm snakes around my waist and pulls my ass against your body.

From our first encounter I know that fighting you off is not an option. The doggie style greeting on the floor has me twisting my hips in an effort to avoid penetration that you haven't even attempted. I'm going insane trying not to go insane as you run your free hand up my back gently. I know that touch. A million things have grazed my skin over my lifetime. Hands, freshly laundered cotton, satin sheets, summer grass… nothing else feels exactly like your touch. I know you. My body knows you. My spine goes weak as I relax. How I got here, dream or not, nothing matters right now as you lower me to the floor on my stomach. My skin is greeted by the fur like carpet as you slide your arm out from under my body and lay along side me. I have a million questions but none of them feel appropriate. As your mouth makes gentle contact with the back of my neck my head spins, lips part naturally as my jaw goes to jell-o and I involuntarily writhe .

I open and close my eyes, forgetting that there is no light. The lack of sight only intensifying ever slight movement you make. Your tongue swirling over my skin between parted lips as you kiss you way from the base of my neck to my shoulder. In my mind I am screaming "fuck me" but the words don't come out. The soft groan deep inside of my throat speaks volumes. My thighs are wet. I'm experiencing the kind of head to toe need that few ever feel once in a lifetime. My sudden reach back to find your manhood is intercepted and held in place with one hand while your other seems to be on a mission to painfully slowly explore every inch of my back above the waist. I get it. You're in charge. You find my earlobe with your teeth and I find myself hurled into the world of a begging bitch in heat.

Thoughts?
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Old 11-09-2012, 10:37 AM   #2
obturator22
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I usually do not enjoy dream-like stories, preferring much more of the concrete world adventures, however this very well written. If I had to describe it I would place it in the fantasy, surreal, horror genre with an erotic twist due to the nudity and fear element.

I would not mind reading more of your work in the future.

Thanks for posting.
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Old 11-09-2012, 05:23 PM   #3
LittleMissFixIt
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I usually don't do this either

Writing dream stuff but it might not BE a dream... guess I will have to see where it goes. :-) Thank you obturator22. I plan on adding to it when I figure out more about contributing here. Appreciate the compliment!
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Old 11-09-2012, 11:24 PM   #4
LittleMissFixIt
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Question Thought

Should it be her own husband, someone else, a dream... something else?
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Old 11-10-2012, 12:44 AM   #5
X Writer
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First thing I would honestly do...? I was loving the surreal dream like quality-- up until you changed from first person all in her head to first person telling the reader what they are doing to her.

Problem is, you start with one perspective, where I was a voyeur to her thoughts and experiences, to becoming an unasked participant in the whole thing-- as still narrated by her thoughts nonetheless.

I can't speak for others, but it was awkward to make that jump... and broke the flow of the story for me. So I would identify HIM as HIM, not YOU. SHE knows who it is, but this is HER story, not the reader's. After all, if we are a participant, where were we in the beginning...? How do we know what she is experiencing from her perspective and in her thoughts, if the story includes US?
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Old 11-10-2012, 05:14 PM   #6
LittleMissFixIt
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Thank you so much for your input X Writer

I'm excited to rework it after you pointed that out. I see what you are saying. Much appreciated.
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Old 11-11-2012, 01:16 PM   #7
DRS_EROS
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Quote:
Originally Posted by LittleMissFixIt View Post
"No one tells you about this part" I look up, jerked out of my own scrambled thoughts into the moment by an unfamiliar voice. I look up and study the older mans face and missing ear before responding. "I'm sorry, what did you say?" He cocks his head and looks bothered that I wasn't paying attention "I said .. No one told you about this part… you've been reassigned" I ponder the possible applicable definitions of the term and my blank expression must speak volumes because he lets out a long sigh followed by the explanation. "You have been reassigned to another male… and from what I hear, he's a miserable prick" He grins at me and a chill runs up my spine.

"Wait… where is my husband.. Where am I?" He gestures to the room… cold steel benches, blinding white windowless walls… smooth as glass floors. Nothing about this room lends a hint as to where I am as he enlightens me "You're dreaming girlie… and in your dreams you belong to someone else now. You're still you… but unlike your life, you're not in control, you aren't the boss… if you aren't sure what that means, you'll learn soon enough." I'm what, where and what the fuck is going on in my head? I'm losing patience. "So, you're telling me that I'm dreaming. None of this is real?" More of a statement than a question to be sure.

He stands up and jerks me to my feet by my wrist. A sharp pain shoots into my shoulder like a bolt of lightning as I cry out more out of reflex than the level of pain but who does this asshole think he is? He forces me against the wall, drawing both hands high above my head. I can look at him but I don't. I'm looking for the door. My heels aren't on the floor. My body feels oddly long as I am held against the cold, ugly white wall. In the midst of this exact moment, the vision of the jerk getting his ear cut off in a freak door slamming accident draws a very unexpected laugh from my lips. One is followed by another and then another and I am hanging there like the days most impressive catch laughing uncontrollably. He is visibly confused and rather than to let him in on the joke I manage to stifle my hysterics in less than a minute.

I take a deep breath and clear my throat "If I'm dreaming, who reassigned me? I didn't" He looked at me and grinned "Are you sure?" No more laughing. Suddenly there is nothing funny about this. Maybe I am not dreaming. Maybe this Lurch looking freak is just trying to make me think I am dreaming. My head spins. Is there anything I can do to figure this out. I'm lost. I'm confused. So, very unsure of anything right now. I will this guy to disappear, to turn into a purple unicorn… I try to wake myself up… nothing. He drops my hands and I slump against the wall, barely standing, keens weak. He lifts my chin with a single finger. The long nail of his index finger has a jagged part that digs deeply into my flesh and the sensation makes my jaw tighten. He draws and captures my gaze before he speaks "Nothing you think you know applies."

He walks to the door, half guiding and half dragging me by the same wrist. Makes me wonder who had put up so much of a fight before that he felt the need to be so rough. Wait, if I am dreaming, there has been no one else, right? Why would my subconscious decide that I needed to experience this? My thoughts distract me from the moment again. On the same wall I'd been sitting on and had subsequently been pinned to is a door way. Before I even have time to fully register it, he opens it and tosses me through it, slamming it behind me.

At first, I'm trying to tell myself to open my eyes but they ARE open. Going from the ugly, blinding white room to a dark room takes some getting use to. I wait for my eyes to adjust but nothing materializes. I back up but after taking several baby steps back I still feel nothing behind me. A few more and I give up. I stand still and try to gain my bearings. I'm naked. Birthday suit naked. My fingertips on my thighs alert me to the fact that I am wearing nothing. Was I naked in the white room? I suddenly have no idea. How could I have missed it if I was? My head spins. Okay. I have to get it together. I stand still and try to imagine the room I am in now. Try to hear… anything. Pin drop silent. I feel like I have gone blind and deaf. I speak. Some odd "ahhh" noise comes out and I hear it.. Or do I. The sound I make bounces off of nothing. In my mind I am standing in a black hole. A sudden wave of dizziness at the thought of being in such a vast void brings me to my knees and then to my hands and knees. I don't know what I look like. I am not even sure I know who I am. That freaks voice bounces around in my head "nothing I think I know applies…" No shit.

I am not warm, not cold. For that I am thankful. Being naked and either hot or cold would suck… kinda just as much as being naked and in the dark and alone. I make myself laugh. Really? I find myself chastising myself. I'm a great dreamer. I have had some dreams that we so real that I could smell popcorn from the street outside of a dreamt up theater but this… this is too real to be unreal… isn't it? I don't know. I know I don't know and I hate it. I suddenly wonder if I have fallen asleep in front of the tv again and something is influencing my dream.

I sit on the floor and take inventory with my hands starting with my feet. My pedicure is still in tact. The edges of my nails are filed smooth and even. My legs.. Yup, still have them both. The feet should have been a good indication. I tell myself to get serious.. This isn't funny. I realize if I then tell myself to shut the fuck up that I will be certifiably bat-shit. Am I? If you found yourself naked, somewhere darker than the deepest darkest cave with not a peep of sound other than the ones you make and oh yeah.. Naked… would you talk to you? I feel myself roll my eyes in the blackness. I have to get a grip.

My fingers find the apex between my legs and after planting my feet further apart on the floor I explore my own sex with my fingers. I have no idea if I took my clothes off or someone else did. I'm not in pain down there but running my fingers between my lips discovers no abnormal fluids or anything other than the usual degree of "wet-n-ready". I continue to exploration until I have reached my hair. I'm all here. Now if I could just figure out where the fuck I am. Crawling is more appealing than walking so I move forward onto my hands and knees again.

The floor baffles me. I can't quite figure it out. It's not cold or hot, just smooth.. Tile maybe? I amble forward. Without the ability to see, I'm only guessing that I am going in a straight line. A desert vision overtakes my thoughts as I crawl slowly. Miles and miles of nothing but smooth sand as far as the eye can see. Only my desert is pitch black and without a horizon. At some point in the seconds, minutes or hours that I am imagining crawling through the desert, I have crawled onto another surface. Feels like carpet. Incredibly soft, thick carpet. My hands and knees sink into it. It's the most incredible carpet ever. I succumb to the temptation to drop down to it, first laying on my stomach, fingers laced and chin on them. Chinchilla. It feels like fur. The softest fur I've ever felt. I raise up on my elbows and graze my nipples over the surface. I don't need to tell myself how good it feels. Within seconds the arousal of my nipples is nearly painful.

Collapsing down and crushing them against the carpet lends little relief. Turning over on my back I massage them in the dark with my palms more to calm them down than to excite myself further. I imagine having a blanket like this on my bed someday. The erotic nature of being made love to or savagely fucked on such an exquisite surface. I want to see it. I imagine it's the color of a chinchilla. Silver with a hint of black. I try and envision my naked body on it… just the tips of the fur teasing the arch of my back as I'm entered slowly. Yes, that's it. It doesn't take much thought for my mind to take it as a call to action. I squeeze my thighs together and a sigh breaks the silence.

The sudden touch of a hand on my ankle sends me scurrying like a crab in the dark. "Who's there?" My voice is odd and doesn't sound like my own. "Who touched me" What touched me crosses my mind but I dismiss it out of necessity. I am scared enough already. I jump. There it is again. This time my ankle and this time I know it is a hand because it isn't letting go. All I can do is resist. Stronger than me is the only thing I can think. Am I going to die? I'm I going to… "what do you want?" I scream. No echo. As loud as I just yelled and it bounced off of nothing. I'm losing it and I know it. One captured ankle becomes two as the hands hold both of my legs.

"What do you want?" The desperation in my voice makes me even more frightened and demands become begging "please" I practically whimper "please tell me what you want." Nothing. In the dark, hand over hand I am being crawled on, held down when I try to resist. My screams unanswered, my opponent unaffected. I'm clearly under a man. Not bigger than me by much but very much stronger than myself. In a matter of minutes even with a couple of momentary escapes from his grip, I am wearing down.

The expressions of frustration, fear, confusion… nothing is answered. "get the fuck off of me!" All you do is breathe. I try to move from under you but you will only allow so much. In my mind I am insulting you, your undefined heritage and your future bloodline but I'm not voicing it. I'm scared and.. I'm tired. I know you're a man because even though you aren't hard, your spongy organ is trapped between us and has been both against my belly and lower depending on how I was moving in a failed attempt to escape.

In a flash I am even more petrified. The idea of the Lurch freak with one ear… no, you're not over 6 feet tall… you're different. And still I'm not comforted. The fight has left me. A few half hearted pushes and pulls and I feel my body go almost limp. No tears, no crying at all. Just the unconditional surrender. With that, you roll off of me and are gone.

Enveloped in the darkness. Drawing myself up, knees to my chest I cradle myself. I'm not comforted. I'm aware that I am not alone but I feel more alone than I have ever felt. I voice questions. The go unanswered. I try insulting you. No response. I don't even know if you are still there. I can't hear you breathe. Minutes, hours… no way of knowing how long I sit still with my own thoughts, listening to my own voice. I ask you to come back before I even realize that I have said it. I don't understand why I would say that. Did I say it or did I think it. My head is spinning. What the hell is wrong with me? I'm not sure why but I want to know where you are. Is that it? I want to know where you are? Some control is better than none. Knowing where you are will give me some comfort. At least I won't feel like you're going to sneak up on me at any second.

A beckoning whistle in the darkness makes me jump. I don't know if I heard it or imagined it until you do it again. I turn my head in the direction of the sound and wait. "I'm not a dog" Nothing. Unsure if I have the direction right I crawl ahead. "This isn't funny" Nothing. I drop my head down in frustration just as your arm snakes around my waist and pulls my ass against your body.

From our first encounter I know that fighting you off is not an option. The doggie style greeting on the floor has me twisting my hips in an effort to avoid penetration that you haven't even attempted. I'm going insane trying not to go insane as you run your free hand up my back gently. I know that touch. A million things have grazed my skin over my lifetime. Hands, freshly laundered cotton, satin sheets, summer grass… nothing else feels exactly like your touch. I know you. My body knows you. My spine goes weak as I relax. How I got here, dream or not, nothing matters right now as you lower me to the floor on my stomach. My skin is greeted by the fur like carpet as you slide your arm out from under my body and lay along side me. I have a million questions but none of them feel appropriate. As your mouth makes gentle contact with the back of my neck my head spins, lips part naturally as my jaw goes to jell-o and I involuntarily writhe .

I open and close my eyes, forgetting that there is no light. The lack of sight only intensifying ever slight movement you make. Your tongue swirling over my skin between parted lips as you kiss you way from the base of my neck to my shoulder. In my mind I am screaming "fuck me" but the words don't come out. The soft groan deep inside of my throat speaks volumes. My thighs are wet. I'm experiencing the kind of head to toe need that few ever feel once in a lifetime. My sudden reach back to find your manhood is intercepted and held in place with one hand while your other seems to be on a mission to painfully slowly explore every inch of my back above the waist. I get it. You're in charge. You find my earlobe with your teeth and I find myself hurled into the world of a begging bitch in heat.

Thoughts?
Sorry, but I would start all over again.
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Old 11-11-2012, 04:33 PM   #8
Derroreaper
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Boy, its a good thing you quoted the OP's story, or I never would have understood you incredibly helpful response!
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