1 comments/ 20777 views/ 0 favorites Dreamworld By: sr71plt It's not that Sean didn't see and understand the effect he had on other men; it's just that since he entered his dreamworld with jacko242, he didn't really give a shit. And it wasn't as if he hadn't been a player before he had succumbed to his new world. His boss in the architectural firm had known Sean would put out—and he certainly had no inkling why Sean still wasn't putting out. There was that corner office on the second floor he'd been grooming Sean for—and that he'd been holding over Sean's head to get every ounce of tail out of his young and winsome employee that he could get. Phil Ocksen thought of Sean as his last fling, a delicious confection he could poke at will. Phil wasn't exactly decrepit yet, but he was moving along in age. He was doing all of the right things in diet and exercise and grooming, and, yes, although he wouldn't admit it, a bit of a nip and tuck here and there. He was just as presentable, however, as the day he trapped Sean in the filing room and almost blatantly asked Sean what he would do to get that raise he wanted. This had led, just as he'd hoped it would, to fucking Sean on the Xerox machine—with the machine scanning and flipping out images of Sean's flattened buttocks and spread thighs and the underside Phil's very nice cock as it buried itself in Sean's ass and reappeared only to bury itself again. Far from being ashamed of his cock and balls—which have never seen the edge of a plastic surgeon's knife, he wants to make quite clear—Phil had saved the Xeroxes and to this day takes them out now and again to reminisce about the day he conquered that particular conquest. But Phil didn't know about jacko242. So that afternoon when he was leaning over Sean to look at some blueprints on Sean's drafting table and was murmuring about how the light was so much better to view these blueprints in that now-empty corner office on the second floor AND was unbuttoning a button on Sean's sports shirt and running his fingers in to find a nipple hiding in the soft blond down on Sean's chest, Phil had no idea why Sean wasn't reacting as he wished. Sean was being polite and attentive, but he was making no effort whatsoever to warm up to Phil's signaling. Only four weeks earlier this nipple play would have had Sean on his back on the floor, reaching up to Phil's belt buckle as Phil knelt between Sean's spread legs, and pulling Phil's cock inside him while sighing sweet nothings about "big daddy." Sean wanted that corner office—and he sure as hell wanted the subsidy Phil gave him for the house on Queensbury Row—so Phil assumed that there was some pale of desirability and acceptability that he himself had passed beyond that made him less attractive to Sean. He checked himself in the mirror on the way back to the office. Yep, same forgivingly matured face and full head of hair with distinguished graying at the temples. Same straight back and flat stomach. He reached his hand down. Yep, the same nice cock dressed left in his tailored slacks. But were those crows' feet at the corners of his eyes? Surely that couldn't have been enough for Sean to spurn him. Still, he'd have his secretary, Mavis, call his plastic surgeon. Sean left the office that afternoon, not even fully aware that he had cut off an advance by Phil. He wasn't thinking of Phil at all. His mind was in that small room at the end of the corridor on the second floor of his house. The one he padded to naked, on bare feet, at night when the house was dark and silent other than the soft snoring of Rod. He almost absentmindedly entered the backseat of the Lincoln Town Car. Phil had thoughtfully provided this service to take the senior staff members into the exclusive old section of the city where parking was at such a premium and life was so self-contained that many did not have cars and those who did preferred not to take them out of whatever premium parking space they had finally scored. Phil had instituted the car service two years previously, and Julio had served as the executives' chauffeur from day one. Julio liked the job. The transport hours for the firm's executives worked quite well around his sessions at the gym, where he was training hard to be a champion heavyweight boxer. Other than driving and working out in the gym, Julio had only one vice: cute-looking and saucy blond male tail. Sean had been a hot little number when Julio had come on board, and it hadn't taken long to figure out that the boss, Phil Ocksen, was fucking this nice piece of tail. Julio wanted some of that for himself, and within two weeks of coming on board, Sean had been game for the long ride home and a somewhat shorter but very explosive ride from Julio in the back of the Town Car, with Sean's heels leveraging off the back of the front seat and Julio knelt between Sean's legs and pile driving his puckered ass. Since that first fucking, Sean had been willing to drop trou and spread legs on just one meaningful look from Julio in the rear view mirror. The cute young blond was a veritable male nympho. And Julio enjoyed manhandling him and listening to him groan and moan as a dark tan Hispanic monster cock slowly buried itself inside him and Julio started a fast and furious ride that benefited greatly from many hours of thrusting and parrying in the practice boxing ring. All of this was right up until a couple of weeks ago. And then the arrangement had died cold, very dead, turkey. Julio didn't know what was wrong, but his cock missed the tight warmth of Sean's channel. Maybe Sean was getting that promotion he was always talking about and it just hadn't been announced. Maybe Sean was going up in the world—he certainly had a tight fist on Phil Ocksen's balls, so there was nothing he couldn't ask for in the architectural firm—and maybe Sean was getting uppity. He was a really, really nice piece of ass, and up to recent weeks he'd been so randy for the fucking Julio could give him that he almost begged for it whenever he entered the Town Car. But not now. When Julio gave him "that look" in the rear view mirror, Sean wasn't even looking. His eyes were glazed over, and he was off in some dreamworld somewhere. Uppity or not, Julio felt like driving into the woods and parking and coming up over the seat back into the backseat and giving Sean the rough fuck of his life. A couple of weeks ago Sean even would have loved that. But not now. Now he was off in a world of his own where Julio was transparent. Julio's cock and balls ached to be fucking the blond little piece of ass. But most of all his pride was aching. An Hispanic fucking the lights out of a little blond Gringo. Now that had been worth talking about down at the gym. It wasn't anything Sean was holding against Julio specifically or Hispanics in general, though. Julio just didn't know about jacko242. Sean barely waved an acknowledgment of Julio's good-bye when they arrived in Queensbury Row, and, anger rising inside him, Julio flipped Sean off—but well below the window sill of the Town Car, as Julio wanted to keep his cushy job—and pulled the Lincoln away from the curb and into traffic a bit faster than was really warranted. Hearing the squeal of the tires, the occupant of the townhouse next door to Sean's, one Professor Steven Connolly, paused at the door while rummaging around in his mailbox and cast a forlorn eye on Sean ascending absentmindedly to his own front door. Steven almost called out something to Sean. But then he stopped, sad, in resignation, and stepped back into the shadows of his foyer. That phase of Professor Connolly's life was closed now. And although the professor didn't know why it had been cut off so abruptly and so definitively, not more than a month earlier, he could recognize "the end" to an affair as well, if not better than most. Sean had been such an open and fun-loving young man. When Connolly's long-term companion had died, Sean had been so sympathetic and understanding and had provided just the medicine the grieving professor had needed. He had pulled Connolly out of his blue funk one gloomy afternoon in the study in his home, when Sean had taken him by the hand and pushed him gently down into his desk chair. He then had knelt in front of Connolly, slowly unzipped his pants, and sucked Connolly's cock to paradise. After that Sean had stripped off his own clothes and sat on Connolly's now-very-hard cock, facing him, and had slowly fucked himself to their mutual completion and satisfaction. Subsequently, on most workday evenings, Sean had mounted the stairs to Connolly's Queensbury Row townhouse before entering his own when arriving home from work. Connolly had waited for him, trembling, in the foyer, and then the two had ascended the stairs, hand in hand, and in silence moved to the bedroom where, for decades, Connolly and his companion had made love. And just then, for that brief afternoon period, Connolly was transported back to happier times as Sean laid down on his back on the bed and spread his thighs and Connolly sank his cock deep into the younger man's world. And then, just when Connolly was building up to the suggestion of a more permanent arrangement, Sean had just stopped coming for their late-afternoon assignations. No explanations, no harsh words, no formal ending—just an abrupt, total ending. Now Sean mounted his own stairs when he returned from work, no longer visiting the house next door to be mounted by Professor Connolly. And always that blank expression on Sean's face as if he was totally off in another world. Steven Connolly had no idea what had changed—but then he knew nothing about jacko242. All Connolly knew was that he had not left his house since Sean's last visit—everything he needed he had had delivered—and that he spent his late afternoons tangled in the sheets of his lost companion's bed, naked, and writhing against the sheets, fucking the sheets, until he had exhausted himself and relieved his grief and loneliness in spent cum and tears. When Sean entered his Queensbury Row house, his senses were immediately assaulted. There was humming in a deep baritone coming from the kitchen and from there as well the smells of an oregano-laced spaghetti sauce. The combination of the two meant that it was Italian night. It also signaled that Rod was in high heat and wanted to fuck on the bearskin rug in front of the fireplace. Sean sighed and checked through the mail. All of the time he was doing this, though, and listening to his lover's humming from the kitchen, Sean's mind had already mounted the stairs and walked deliberately down the hall to the small room at the end—and to jacko242. It just wasn't time yet, though. Sean ached for the hours to slip by until the appointed time. Sighing again, Sean turned and moved toward the kitchen. He knew what he would find, and he was right. Enhanced aromas of the cooking sauce, two glasses of Burgundy on the island top, and a smiling, naked, black-skinned god in full erection. Rodney Singleton had come into Sean's life just a bit more than a year earlier. A star receiver of the metropolitan area's professional football team, he had come to Sean's architectural firm, annual bonus in hand, wanting to build his dream house on the cliffs overlooking the sea in a nearby suburb. At this point Phil Ocksen had made possibly the biggest mistake of his life. He had turned the big black hunk over to Sean for drawing up the concept layouts for the project, and within an hour of their meeting, Sean was bent over the toilet in the small bathroom off his office and Rod was crouched over him from behind, palming Sean's pert little nipples in his big football-receiver's mitts, and giving Sean as deep a doggy fuck as he'd ever had. Rod moved in with Sean rather than building that house, and Phil lost not only the client but also a good chunk of Sean's sexual favors. Rodney's sexual demands were enough to exhaust a horse. Rodney was highly sexed and not all that observant, which was probably just fine for his mental well-being. He had barely even noticed that Sean had been somewhere else—in his own dreamworld—for weeks. When Sean had entered the kitchen and taken a sip of Burgundy with hardly any greeting at all—or any appreciative look at that magnificent cock rising below Rod's washboard belly and bulging, barrel chest—Rodney completely failed to notice Sean's vacant expression when, as he so often did, he murmured. "So glad you're home, baby. I'm so full of cum, I'm about to explode. Strip for me, honey. We have a good hour before the sauce is finished." Sean absentmindedly stripped down as requested, took another sip of Burgundy, and then docilely followed Rod into the living room, to the bearskin rug, in front of a fire set in the fireplace. He laid down on his back and raised his trim ankles to the shoulders of his magnificent black lover who was kneeling between his thighs. Sean turned his head toward the mesmerizing fire and let his mind wander to that little room on the second floor and to jacko242, as, with a grunt, Rod entered him strongly with his throbbing cock and drug that thick silver cock ring along Sean's channel, deep inside him. Sean raised his hips and let them slowly drift into the familiar undulation of the rhythm of the deep fuck, his body responding, if minimally, but his mind off in its own dreamworld. Rod didn't notice that some part of Sean was missing. He hadn't had a fuck in nearly twelve hours and he needed to get his rocks off. And Sean had the sweetest passage in town. Rodney just grunted and thrust away, coming in great gobs of milky-white jism, deep inside Sean's sweet hole, just as the timer was going off for the bubbling tomato sauce. Rodney was equally unobservant that night, when, balls once more aching for sex, he trapped Sean's compliant, docile body, belly down on the sheets, under his, gripped Sean's hips close between his knees, and rode his little blond pony hard through two mighty ejaculations. Then spent and satisfied himself, Rod rolled Sean over on his side, cock still buried, still deeply sheath even in flaccidity, and spooned Sean into his chest. Rod went into a deep, satisfied, fulfilled sleep, not needing another fuck for a good eight hours—in the morning he'd take Sean up against the tiles of the shower before Sean left for work and then he'd putter around the townhouse all day—this being his off season—except for a three-hour session in the training room down at the stadium and then be cum filled again and hard for Sean's return from work. All a good, fulfilling day for Rodney—and especially so since he was blessedly unaware that Sean hadn't really been there, other than providing a compliant hole to poke, for several weeks. Sean had been off in his own dreamworld and in the thrall of jacko242. Hours later, in the darkest of night, with Rodney snoring contentedly in his ear, Sean slowly and quietly disentangled himself from Rodney's possessive embrace and sat up on the side of the bed. His cock was hard and dripping with precum, and his breath was ragged—in anticipation. He was in heat for the first time today. Neither the advances of the elegant, experienced Phil in the office; nor what most young men would see as the enticement of the delectable Hispanic chauffer, Julio; nor the hopeful—eternally grateful—proffering gaze of Professor Connolly at his door—nor the exuberant attentions of the masterfucker black stud Rodney had set Sean's juices going. But the thought of that little room down the hall and of jacko242 had done so. Sean stood up beside the bed, still naked. He ran his hand up from his hard cock along his belly to his nipples and flicked them with his thumb. Already puffed out, hard. He padded out of the room quietly and down the hall and into the small computer room. He shut the door behind him. He knew that he might cry out upon release, and he didn't want to wake Rodney—although a temporarily well-fucked Rodney could sleep through an earthquake. Sean sat down on the terrycloth covered desk chair and fired up the computer. When he had a browser screen, he tapped in www.mandate.net and then clicked on the profile of jacko242. There he was, the love of Sean's life, in all of his naked glory. Beautiful, sun-kissed body. Turkish features, a well-muscled hunk with black, curly body hair. Square-cut facial features and that knowing smile. Knowing that Sean had returned to him. Sean clicked on "live-chat," and he was there, waiting for Sean. "You're late." "Sorry. I'm here now. Hard to get away tonight." "Are you hard?" "Yes, for you always, Jacko," Sean tapped out. And that was true. He was as hard as he could be. "Stroke it." Sean complied. "Is there precum yet?" Yes, there certainly was. "Taste it." Sean did so. A little moan escaped his lips. "Look at my cock in the photo. It is for you. Is it big enough for you? And thick enough?" "Yes, oh yes." "Close your eyes. Run your hands up my belly and into my chest hair. Feel my nipples? Hard for you." "Yes, oh yes," Sean replied. He was leaning back in his chair, running hands up to his own nipples. As hard as he imagined Jacko's to be. "Do you have the cock? Is it lubed?" "Yes and yes," Sean tapped out. He reached for the dildo he had lubed up while the computer was warming up. "Close your eyes. Work it in. It's my cock. Inside you. Making love to your walls." For the next couple of minutes, while the computer screen murmured words of instruction and lovemaking, Sean moaned and groaned in ecstasy. His thighs were spread and hooked over the arms of his desk chair, his hips rolled forward on the front edge of the chair and one hand stroking his cock and the other working the dildo deep in his passage . . . as the honeyed phrasing of the words on the screen fucked him masterfully. As long last, at the height of a passion that Sean had felt at no earlier point of his day, Sean gave a little cry and jerked several times as he ejaculated into the hand cloth he held over his cock head. He looked up. The screen was blank. Jacko242 had left him. But jacko242 had left him feeling deeply touched to the very quick of him—once again. Sean would somehow have to endure through another day. Jacko242 was only there for him for this one hour of the night. Sean had no idea whether he could wait for his next deeply satisfying encounter with his jacko242. * * * * At a dingy workbench in the back of a double garage in suburban Jefferson City, smack dab in the middle of the flattest, most monotonous Midwestern U.S. state, Elmer Dent had quickly switched from one profile on Mandate.net to the next. It had been a touch-and-go thing. Piningblond had been late this evening—again, for the second time this week. Jacko242 thought perhaps he'd have to cut him off; he wasn't fitting into the schedule well. He flipped open to Legsopen4u, who was already there, on time, as usual. "Are you hard?" Elmer tapped out under his jacko242 name. He ran his hand inside his robe and scratched his belly, not even bothering to look at the response from legsopen4u before tapping in the next sequence. "Stroke it." The response was always the same—as were his instructions. These computer sex junkies never seemed to notice the sameness of it all. Elmer took a swig of his beer and burped. A faint sound, coming through several of the thin walls in the squat tract rancher. "Elmer. You out in the garage again? Come to bed and do me, hon. Turn off that computer." Elmer sighed. That Hazel was so demanding. If she weren't the one with the job—down at the Laundromat . . . "Just a minute, Sweetcheeks," Elmer called back, pulling his robe closer together over his paunch and reaching down and scratching his hairy balls. "Just about done out here." And he was, in fact, just about done. Legsopen4u was his last computer sex junkie of the evening. While he'd waited for piningblond to click on, he'd browsed the new members. There was a nice-sounding profile obviously just aching for it who he might like to ride for a while. Maybe he'd give him piningblond's slot. That one was about to play out anyway. It had been four weeks. Dreamworld This is a bit different from my other stories, mostly due to the POV. It was easier to describe things and harder to describe others, still kind of getting used to it so it might be kind of rough at some points. Anyways please leave feedback or any type of constructive criticism. It'll only help my writing and therefore allow me to get out better pieces for you guys to enjoy. Oh yea, there's sex in this so yea, enjoy. Also, everyone is over 18 and unrelated to real people and stuff. Dreamworld ***** Prologue: They say dreams can last forever. I, being the cynic I proudly am, thought that was complete and utter bullshit. Then however, let's just say shit happened. One or two more than the recommended dosage of cough medicine, a pain killer here, a shot of whiskey there and I found out how true that saying was. I'm not a shitty person, don't get me wrong I've done my part to benefit society and all that but I'm not a saint either. I mean, I did what I had to do right? I went to school and then college, got myself a decent paying job that laid me off due to some worldly crisis out of my control. I picked myself up after a while and got a job at a fast food place to support my alcoholism and later my slight addiction to over the counter cough medicine. I dated a few girls in my life, jacked off to a couple more and dreamt about boning some celebrities while riding a meteor in space. All in all living the American dream I would say. My only problem in life was that my schedule was never something I could trust, apparently it's totally fine to change someone's shift a few hours before they start but hey I'm not complaining. Since I was young I was always under the impression that when one sleeps, they're teleported to a place where there are no rules. For simplicity purposes, and because I was a lazy as shit kid, I named that place Dreamworld. It was catchy, I was ten and I shouldn't be judged. Now, as to how I got stuck in this fucking place is a mystery I still haven't solved. What I was doing beforehand is yet another mystery that is on my not yet solved list. All I know is, the past should stay in the past or at least stay there until I remember it. So I'll start with how I found out I became a permanent resident, or possibly a citizen depending how immigration strict it is, in Dreamworld. Chapter 1: Life is but a dream I knew it was a dream because I was back in high school, the baggy jeans made it super obvious. Somehow I imagine everything in the correct time frame besides cell phones, for some reason my mind thinks that everybody had smartphones regardless of the era I chose to implant myself in. Anyways, the dream started like a normal dream. I woke up in bed like how I did in nearly all my dreams and fed my goldfish. Ironically, I never had a goldfish. I never had a pet in my life yet no matter where I picture myself, I somehow have a fucking goldfish. I don't even like goldfish. I wake up and take a nice, quiet stroll to my 1 bedroom apartment and I brush my teeth. It's funny how I never forget to brush my teeth in my dreams, if only habits could transfer over to reality. All in all, it was a regular run of the mill high school experience in which I for some twisted reason I have yet to figure out, just have to adhere to the facts. I'd be happy if I got to play a stereotype in this dream but nope, I needed to play the same loner who literally did nothing in school. How hard must one work to fall out of place in EVERY single category of high school social classes? I'm not going to bore myself with the retelling of the day since trust me, it was uneventful at best. Apart from attending every single class without participating, nothing really went on. I'm sure things were going on in other people's lives but that's not my point of view so I wouldn't know. Things got weird when the day ended because that's when I know I'm about to wake up. Always, without fail when school ends, I have this urge to pee and thus take a trip back to reality. This time however, it didn't happen. In fact, it went the exact opposite of routine. I went an entire week of high school, including chilling at home and sleeping. I wasn't phased because come on, time passing in a dream doesn't mean it's passing in real life. The panic started to take place when I felt pain, not like dream pain but like actual real life pain. One does not dream of stepping on a nail in real life but for some reason I just had to test my theory so I tried it. My reward was a nail stuck in my foot, agony beyond measure and the realization that I was not waking up. Usually when I felt any type of pain in my dream, I woke up. The intensity didn't even matter. I could be getting shot or pricked by a toothpick, the end result would be the same. I sat there for a full five minutes, I counted, for my brain to kick start my whatever process and tell whatever it needed to tell my body and initiate the wake up process. Once I knew it wasn't working I dialed 911, imagination would not fix the wound trust me I tried. Fast forward a month and I was still in the same fucking dream, this was when I started to have a panic attack. The usual thoughts to mind, well dream mind. First of if I was going to wake up or not and then more morbid thoughts about whether animals would mutilate my body. Somehow movies often tend to over exaggerate how long this lasts, after a few hours of wondering about my existence I cared next to nothing. It was like I used up all my life's worry reserves in a single sitting. I'm not going to lie I did start having a minor existential crisis sometime later on in that day but like before, it passed quite smoothly. The more I lingered in Dreamworld, the more it felt like reality. There's a certain innate ability we must all have that allows us to differentiate when we're in the real world. When I first entered Dreamworld, I knew it was dream because it actually felt like one. I couldn't feel pain and there really wasn't anything trying to fuck me. As the days piled on however, my mind or whatever cognitive functioning I had told me that what I was experiencing was reality. Things only got weirder after that, such as one day I looked out the window and saw a pig glide through the air and somehow become bacon strips the next instant. I should've realized that when days start out that trippy, shit will only get worse but it was shit early in the morning and I didn't mind the free bacon. Call me slow but it took me nearly two months, stuck in Dreamworld, to figure out that dreams were related to imagination. At first I was able to change small sectors of dream, like what color shirt I wanted to wear and whether I wanted to wear flip flops or sneakers. Trust me after wearing the same outfit day and day out for two months of straight Mondays, that was like winning the jackpot. It actually gave me a high and I wanted to change more shit, so I did. Fuck consequences and planning shit out right? After the wardrobe change, I switched up my breakfast. Instead of pancakes I had waffles, instead of orange juice I had soda. Soon I was changing the furniture in my living room, but then I realized I fucked up. Everything went black, I mean pitch black. I couldn't see anything, couldn't feel anything. I couldn't tell if it was hot or cold or if I was standing on something or not. I couldn't feel like carpet or the sofa that I was standing right in front a moment ago. It was like those cartoon moments where one only sees the character's eyes. I don't know how long the blackout lasted, it could've been seconds or hours. It wasn't like time was a constant in Dreamworld, one second it was morning and a minute later it could be midnight in the middle of December. Things got really freaky when I started voices from other people, I didn't recognize them and they were fairly faint but they were there. I couldn't recognize a single voice but I could tell they were in the same void as me, there was nothing to back up my theory other than a feeling of just knowing. I tried calling out to them but instead of getting a response the voices just disappeared, leaving me alone once again. I was half expecting some cosmic being to come out at this point to explain things but nobody came, I just remained there waiting patiently. I tried calling out again but the result was the same, nothing but silence. If I had a gun I would've shot myself right then and there, not out of fear but to see if I was still all there. As I lingered in the void, something in me decided to think of lights that turned on and off with a clap. There really wasn't a logical train of thought that lead me to it, I don't even think that my thoughts had a trail. As I thought more and more about the lights however, curiosity got the better of me and I just had to test it out. I'm pretty sure no one could've been as surprised and relieved as me when I was back in my living room. I tried clapping again to see if I would go into the darkness again, a stupid idea I know, but that theory didn't fare as well as the previous one. Before I got back to my bacon, egg and cheese sandwich I browsed through my phone like any addict would and gawked at the date. It was Tuesday, the 9th of September or better known as the first day of junior year. I knew it couldn't be right because I was living through every Monday of senior year for the past two months. What threw me off even more was the fact I was connected to the internet so the date had to be right but just to make sure I refreshed the settings a few times. Sadly the date didn't change and once again I was placed into a state of full blown confusion. My first thought was that maybe I had caused all this, possibly by altering the dream so much I had in essence just created a brand new dream from scratch. It was tempting to believe and was kind of the only theory I had so I believed it but hey at least time passed correctly now. I'm sure I wouldn't be blamed for not attempting to change more shit in the dream but, I did choose to change shit in the dream. I was tired of the boring and even though the void experience was nerve-racking, it was at the same time exhilarating. It was better than being the loner high school kid that does his homework and comes home to eat and sleep. Not to be cliché but that experience is what made me feel alive. Being able to change even the tiniest things gave me a sense of control, it allowed me to finally be something other than a backseat passenger. The training wheels were taken off and burned. A mere taste got me hooked on the power. They often say that imagination is limitless, well I say that they never stepped foot in Dreamworld. As I stepped outside to wreak havoc on the colors of nature, I noticed an odd silence in the building. It wasn't that the hallway was too quiet it was just that I didn't hear my neighbors arguing. I could've freaked out but I was embracing the optimistic world view and simply thought they had made up. The elevator ride was pretty weird since it didn't ring when it got to a floor, it was kind of a habit I had to count the beeps. Again I ignored the obvious signs of things being out of place and strolled on. I got three steps in before I had an abrupt breakup with optimism. Empty canvas suddenly made so much sense because that was exactly what I was looking at. Directly outside my front door was an eternity of white, it was my dream was still loading. I could've been brave and explored the land of nothingness but, fuck that. I didn't wait a full second before turning back and running up the stairs, even the elevator looked shady at that point. I made sure I locked the door and curled up under a blanket because it's a universal fact that the safest place in existence is under a blanket. I don't know if the drowsiness was induced or I just feared myself into sleep mode but regardless of the reason, my eyes were getting incredibly heavy. I tried to keep them open for as long as I could but one can't fight fate, sleep was bound to happen. I woke up feeling like I slept for an eternity, a quick check on my phone proved that I wasn't that far off. It was the same time that I went to sleep, the same day and the same date. The only thing that changed was the year, this time it threw me back two more years making me a freshman. I was sort of okay with it until I saw that the time wasn't changing, it was 21 seconds past 9 for the longest, the stopwatch app wouldn't even work. I don't know my reasoning but I would've been okay with that if that's all that was affected but seeing a pigeon on my windowsill frozen mid-takeoff was too freaky. I want to say that I wanted to get to the bottom of things and find out what was causing this phenomenon but my mind was racing in so many directions I didn't what the hell I wanted to do. Back when I first discovered Dreamworld, in other words when I first started dreaming, I was confronted with this miniature unicorn. It couldn't have been more than two feet tall. It was so unthreatening that even the horn was dull, the only way to get pierced by that is if you fall off a cliff and land on that. Moreover the unicorn was like a plush toy, as in the skin literally felt like it was a plush toy. I was a kid at the time so it was fucking amazing, I mean I was talking to a real life talking plush toy unicorn. I considered my life complete at the point but after the initial meeting I never encountered the fluffy animal again. After a while I just forgot about it. When I saw it on my bed, my immediate reaction was to punch it in the face. I don't condone animal violence but the motherfucker looked shady and I was already on edge, at least it learned not to sneak up on me like that. After the awkwardness phased out it finally spoke to me, it was slightly annoyed but it spoke to me nonetheless. "If you're done with your tantrum let's get down to the reason why you're here." I folded my hands as a show of respect and kept my mouth shut, I just nodded whenever he needed an answer. "As you know this is Dreamworld, what you witnessed was just a glitch. Sorry for the inconvenience, we were just updating some things and something went wrong but don't worry it's fixed now." I'm not going to lie, it was pretty trippy seeing a plush toy talk in a business sense. I had to do everything in my power to refrain from laughing. "The void thing right?" "Yes, everyone that was affected somehow got stuck in Dreamworld. That part we still haven't fixed so as compensation, everyone that's stuck in Dreamworld is given a dream to mold themselves." I seen a fair share of sci-fi movies in my lifetime and I wasn't stupid enough to think that I was the only person that dreamt so it made sense that Dreamworld was inhabited by other people as well. The only question I really had was why my dreams were so mundane and how was I just starting to control my dreams. Thankfully the fluffy beast had an answer to it all. "Yes that was also one of our priorities, some people weren't able to control their dreams only passively take part in them. That was the reason the update happened and thus the void. As compensation, you're allowed to alter reality to a certain extent. As in I shall give you three things of your choosing for your section of Dreamworld." "I can technically wish for three things that I want my dream to have? Like I can control it after that too?" "No." The lack of emotion that was behind that answer only made it hurt a thousand times more. "You get to decide what you want in your Dreamworld, like if you want to be mayor I'll allow that. If you want your Dreamworld to be a show I'll allow that. After you decided on three things, you'll be able to make decisions of your own free will but you cannot alter the fabric of reality in the dream. So you can't just conjure up dragons if you're the mayor of a town." "So I can give myself superpowers!?" I was like a kid in a candy store, hell if this was the reward of getting stuck I'd have gotten stuck in this place a long time ago. "Yes but..." I didn't let it finish as I knew exactly what I wanted, "I want superpowers!" "Let me finish you jackass." Having a stuffed animal curse at you, I found out, hurts a lot more. It's like they actually mean it. "You have to be specific. So what superpower you want, and if you want others to have superpowers that counts as two things so now go on. Remember one must be the setting of your Dreamworld." Of course, there had to be conditions. The last thing I would've associated Dreamworld with was corporations but I guess they manage to weasel in anywhere. "Fine, I'll do the setting first." "Oh wait, you're setting is already decided. So you can't change that. All you dreams had the same setting so it automatically chose it as default. You're a freshman in high school with modern day technology, congrats." "But, you said..." "Can we hurry this up? There's a lot more people patiently waiting." "I want to manipulate bodies as a superpower." I stated it flatly trying to mimic the apathy in it's voice. The beast, which was losing it's cuteness by the second, didn't wait a second before telling me that it was too vague. The best it could do was make it so I could alter some aspects of the human body. It pretty much made me into an all natural plastic surgeon. I wasn't going to cave however, so I played the victim card. I went on and on about my emotional suffering and the morality of the situation, it went on until the unicorn got annoyed. "Fine! The best I can do is give you some control over a human's body okay. So whatever the human can do naturally you can control it to an extent and before you open your mouth again, let me explain. The human body sweats so you can control the amount. Things like that. Use your brain for creativeness, I don't care as long as it doesn't interfere with another person's Dreamworld. Now I'll even give you knowledge on how to use it as long as you keep it short and speed this up." To be honest I actually felt a bit accomplished making it get worked up like that, gave me a sense of power of it. I didn't let that get to my head however and quickly agreed to his terms. "Okay next, I want money." "I can only give you a certain amount of funds and it's one time only. A recurring amount will nullify your other want." I let out a long sigh and gave him what he wanted, ten million dollars in an account seemed like a good deal. It wasn't like I was going to run out of that anytime soon. "Done, now enjoy your dream. When you wake up, everything will be in effect. Now have a nice nap." Before I could even inquire about my last want my eyes started feeling heavy again. I could've swore I saw him laugh before flying out the window. It took a while but I did manage to get up. It's weird that in Dreamworld, when you go sleep you don't remember anything. I'm not even sure if you engage in the activity of dreaming. One second you close your eyes and the next second you open them but you're aware of the time that passed between as well. It's an utterly confusing phenomenon and without a doubt a product of a madman. I woke up under the impression that I would be asleep for a decade or two, that's exactly what it felt like. I was still in my scrawny little high school body but it felt like I was asleep in the same position for years upon years. I could feel the numbness in my lower back and sides, my body was not happy with me. I took a deep breath and then paced them to get ready for the pain that I was about to experience when I got up, fortunately that didn't happen. As soon as I got up, my body was practically in mint condition. The numbness just disappeared and despite it being early in the morning, I was fully energized. I wasn't complaining, not in the least, but it was odd. I didn't want the pain to come back it just threw me off a little, I thought about it for a few moments and when I couldn't find an answer I went to brush my teeth. It was the usual, slightly yellow from all the coffee and occasional forgetfulness and laziness. Surprisingly, no matter how many times I brushed in my dream they would stay the same. That's what I decided to change first, there really wasn't a reason behind it other than the fact that it popped into my mind first. I thought of my teeth becoming white and in a few seconds they did, I was giddy with excitement. Now that the unicorn wasn't lying, I decided to sculpt myself into the image of my dreams. Dreamworld It took me a less than a minute to get lazy and just stick to changing one thing. It's pretty easy to guess what a hormonal teenage boy would wish to change about himself, so I did. I added some size and some girth as to make it worthy of the term, meaty. I decided to add a bit of veins on their just to add the cherry on top. I did start to feel the beginnings of lightheadedness but it was easily ignored. Although I had my entire body eligible for an upgrade I pushed the project to a further date because I also had to work on my procrastination skills, after all practice makes perfect. There was one thing I had to change however, my strength. The two most important things to a teenage boy, the size of his dick and how strong he is. This is where I understood what the unicorn meant when he explained the limits to my superpower, it had to be realistic. My current body could only support so much strength. To increase my strength I would have to increase my muscle mass, which frankly was more work than I wanted to do so I put it to the max I was able to. I couldn't knock out a jock by any chance but I was strong enough to land a blow and successfully escape. I walked into the school building fully aware of what type of havoc I wanted to wreak but as soon I entered the building, I took my usual place in the cafeteria and patiently waited for the bell. It took a bit of soul searching to realize that I did not have the guts to be the center of attention, I just couldn't overcome the hesitation. Although I was able to, or rather had the option to alter my body, my personality was bolted shut. I knew two truths at the time of my so called awakening. One, I was tired of going on the straight and narrow path. It wasn't that I wanted to become an evil mastermind that was hell bent on destroying the planet, I just didn't see the point of it anymore. Secondly, even though I was sent back in time my brain was still mature, or so I would've thought. Blame it on the teenage hormonal imbalances or the seven sins but I was suddenly back to my high school mentality. Suddenly the high school social structure held priority, the stupid rivalries were now so much more important. I was suddenly the most misunderstood being in all of existence and yet the one that knew it all. In the span of two minutes of sitting in the cafeteria, I had fully regressed to my former self. "What the fuck are you wearing son?" It took a moment to register what the behemoth was referring to, one glance at his wardrobe jogged my memory. It was the age of the baggy jeans and shirts that fit three people. My sad excuse for fashion was a little too ahead of it's time. "Uh..." I totally impressed him with my rich and complex vocabulary. He was so impressed that he brought his equally huge counterparts to partake in the friendly conversation. Before he left, we became such good friends that he high fived my face with his fist. I would be lying if I said that it didn't hurt, which it very much did, so I had to run to the bathroom. Getting caught with water around your eyes in that school meant sentencing yourself to death, there was no way to get out of the bully train after that. After I washed my face thoroughly and made sure no residual evidence could be seen, I took a second look at my wardrobe. A plain white tee that fit me and black boot cut jeans didn't seem weird, but then again my fashion sense was next to nonexistent. I couldn't go home and change because the grades addicted fool in me would downright refuse such acts. I also couldn't risk another altercation with the giants in the school because well, one's rep was everything. So although it was work, I needed call upon my gift once again. A drastic change would be noticed instantly and that went against my plan of blending in with the crowd. The one thing I didn't want was public attention, at least for now and certainly not for wardrobe related reasons. I increased my height by an inch or so and increased my muscle mass enough to stretch out the shirt in the major areas like the shoulders and chest. The added strength allowed me to hold my own in a fight. As I walked out of the restroom I noticed some drastic changes, all of them in the population of the school. In a span of 15 minutes, everyone seemed to be well into their early 20's but before I could worry myself about it a dean came by and banished me to the principal's office. "It's the first day of school and you decide to be a big shot?" I knew from her tone that I was getting suspended or worse. "You ran from the scene after getting into a fight and then you have the audacity to roam around the halls? I can assure you, that type of nonsense is not going to fly here." "That's not even what happened. If you just give-" "Two week suspension starting today." That was just fucked up, she didn't even give me a chance to explain. I heard that Mrs. Keller was a bitch but I never had the privilege of personally finding that out. No matter how many times I tried to explain my position she wouldn't buy it, when she wasn't ignoring me she accused me of lying. I would describe myself as a patient guy but she was really getting on my nerves. The one achievement I had in high school was perfect attendance, there was no way she was going to take that away from me. "This is bullshit, it wasn't even my fault." I made the mistake of speaking my mind, it only served to increase my punishment. Two weeks went to three and the more I talked the harsher it became. "Okay fuck this!" I had never before let my anger get the better of me but this seemed like a good opportunity to let it. I snapped my fingers and instantly saw her fidget a little on her desk. While my superpower worked it's magic I put on my best show and apologized profusely. Either from the uncomfortableness or the way I was feeding her ego, she just let me go on. A few moments in and I saw her forehead start to shine, soon I could see tiny little droplets making their way onto the collar of her shirt. The emerald green shirt didn't last very long as perspiration was too much for her tiny fan. "Feeling hot Mrs. Keller?" She shot me a look in which I could practically see the fire in her eyes. "I think I can help you with that." Then with her giving me her full attention, I snapped my fingers once again. The sweating stopped instantly, although it took a few more seconds for her body to dry up. Just before she was about to kick me out of the office I snapped my fingers again. "It's like a switch isn't it, just found out about it yesterday." I don't how she became the principal of the school because she still didn't get what I was referring to. Somehow this 40 year old redhead thought she had caught the flu. Obviously her brain wasn't connecting the dots so I had to expend my energy in more pronounced changes. Before she called for security I waved my hands over her nails and allowed her to witness my ability first hand. After a moment of delay, the ingrown nail on her thumb suddenly joined the others in a normal position. "Wha.." Finally she bulb lit up, "How did you?" Now that I had her undivided attention, I decided to cut the meeting short and get straight to the point. "Long story short, I can reshape bodies. Like plastic surgery but without the plastic and surgery." I gave her a few seconds to wrap her mind around it before I continued on with my monologue. "So here's the deal. You're going to give me a free ride not just now but everytime I get in trouble. You'll fix my report card and pretty much do everything in your power to give me a clean record and a pleasant high school experience." "And if I don't?" That's one thing I never understood situations like these, when the other person obviously has the upper hand why would you even try? Obviously if you don't follow the instructions, the result is going to be a fuckton worse. "Would the school really keep a principal that keeps fainting?" That was it, pure silence. "Nod if you'll do what I want." There was a brief moment of hesitation but wisdom won in the long run, she agreed to my demands. Before I got up I noticed I had a situation in my pants, due to my age it could've been anything but the most likely culprit seemed to be the sense of control. Having that much control was intoxicating, I had a woman sitting in front of me would practically do anything I say. I had already let emotions run the ship once so what was once more going to do? "Mrs. Keller how long have you been married?" She refused to answer. "I'm just asking because I just saw that all your clothes are brand names, even your bag. I was just wondering how you afford all that with such a measly salary?" When she refused to answer again I reminded her that it was in her best interest to reply. I learned that her husband was extremely fed up with her spending habits and that she even maxed out all her credit cards, even a couple of his. Despite the economic hardships she brought upon herself, she just couldn't stop spending. In a twisted sort of way, clothes brought her happiness. She wanted to live a life of luxury but it just wasn't in her cards. I didn't need to ask how the sex was since her husband barely acknowledged her anymore. Initially, I only asked her so I could jack off later while remembering how I made her share her intimate moments but now the game had changed significantly. "What if I gave you what you wanted?" She tried to hide it but her eyes said it all, she was very interested no matter what she went on about. "Anything you want, clothes anything. Every friday I'll come by the office and buy everything in your shopping cart." Her response shocked me the most, gone was the fear and apprehension and in came her true materialistic personality. "What do I have to do? Just clean the records?" "No that's already a given. I'm a growing teenager and I have urges as you may know so the deal is that whenever I need to relieve some tension of sorts, I need you to be available. Whenever and wherever is the deal." "Anything I want?" I nearly jumped out my seat, I didn't think that would actually work. I simply nodded in agreement as words were unknown to me at the moment. "Okay, I'll do it." I didn't think I would get this far with her and I had no idea what to do next, I knew what came next in pornos but I had never actually participated in the act before. I was supposed to slowly ease into the pool but somehow I cannonballed in, hurrying to find a response I said the first thing that came to mind. "How bout a blowjob?" It came off in a pitch higher than I would've liked, okay much higher than I would've liked. "I have a class coming up that I actually like so I don't have much time. A blowjob should suffice." It took everything to shoot down the excitement, I was about to receive a blowjob from the principal in her own office. This was it, I had it made. Mrs. Keller shifted her seat back and crawled under the table with ease, before I knew it my jeans were undone and my dick was out in the open. I might've added a bit too much size on to it because it had correctly earned the term, monster. My cock almost overpowered her face as it reached her forehead, even she commented on the size. I never received a blowjob before, or had any experience in the intimacy department so I let her lead the way. She tossed her excessively dyed red hair back before holding my cock and bringing it to her lips only to brush the head all over her tongue, tasting it for a moment. She seemed to approve and took the first few inches to slide into her mouth. Gone were the days of masturbation, this was infinitely better. Her steamy breath surrounded the shaft as she sucked the precum off the head like a vacuum. She ran her hands from the tip to the base as her mouth remained on my head. I know every time she took a breath through her nose she could smell the musk. After the long inhale she detached from the crown and spit a liberal amount of spit on the shaft before massaging it in with her hands. I was in another world altogether as she kissed and licked her way down to the base, burying her nose into my pubic hair and licking all around my balls. I grabbed the arms of the chair for support as her mouth began to engulf my shaft inch by inch, she was incredibly experienced to say the least. She got about halfway before returning for air, "Jesus, that's big." She came to that finding after having my cock in her mouth for a while, it was more than conclusive, she was slow. That didn't make a spec of difference at the moment however, someone else was tending to my dick so I had no complaints. "I'm sorry I can't take it all." As she said that, Mrs. Keller wrapped her mouth around the head and fed it slowly down once again. Her eyes rolled back for a second as she took about three inches in, I could've climaxed right there but I pushed it down somehow. With the cock still in her mouth she wiped a tear midway from forming and eased herself off it, her face led the way while her lips followed soon after. Shit, she could've have all my money if I was getting this treatment everyday. After a brief moment of freedom my shaft was engulfed once again while both her hands tended to the remaining portion. Everytime she would take the head out, she would never let her lips part from it. The tip of my cock pierced her lips just barely before she took another attempt at deepthroating the monster. A man, well a teenager, could only take such a punishment for so long. I didn't even get a chance to warn her before I erupted, my dick had just pushed past her lips before it leaked. Shot after shot landed in the valley between her lips and teeth, filling it to the brim. As my climax seceded, my dick plopped out of her mouth as a small stream of jizz rolled down the side of her mouth. If I didn't have a refractory period I would've been hard again seeing the newly formed river of white on her smooth caramel skin. Without asking she swallowed the concoction as well as the portion that escaped before returning to her seat. "Every Friday right?" There wasn't even a need to ask as I buttoned up my jeans and walked out of the office with a permanent smile. The day just kept going up from there. I entered health class to find a substitute covering for what was going to be a week. I gladly took a seat in the back row and quickly knocked out from such a giant loss of energy. When I awoke in the half empty classroom I was pleasantly surprised and let out a long sigh of relief. I walked over to the next class on my schedule, which for some reason was right next door to health. Originally the classes were on different floors. Even though the highs school was filled with a student body in their late teens and early twenties, it felt normal. It was a dream after all so there were bound to be inconsistencies or general weirdness. Something did however feel off about the situation but I couldn't quite place it. It was more of general sense of something being out of place. The more I tried to figure out root of the emotion, the more general the feeling got. After a while I just chalked it up to the heavy energy drain the power caused. While I dozed off in the English class, I paid less and less attention to the feeling. Halfway through the nap the emotion ran it's course and died out, the rest of it was spent reliving my first blowjob. Wait what? I forced myself awake after a thought came out of nowhere, just before my climax no less. I just realized that I was dreaming and too in Dreamworld. All the times I've been to this place, never once had that happened before. I couldn't even cross check with anybody if it was possible or not, I guess I ended up finding what was out of place. I tried to call the customer service unicorn but it didn't really leave a number or a specific method of contact. I remembered it saying something about being stuck here so maybe this was just a side effect. As I went down that trail of thought, my rising blood pressure seemed to level out and I once again was in the possession of a cool mind. As long as the dreams remained experiences I already had, I was fine with them. I didn't pay them much heed as most of them were daydreams of having sex again. Regardless of how awake my mind was, I found myself daydreaming often in that period. It was like my body was forcing itself to rest, the most logical explanation I could come up with was once again the overuse of the power. It would prove, in the next period, that my theory was utterly baseless and the professor was just boring. I didn't daydream a wink in Trigonometry, the class that ruined the entire day. This teacher was the pretty much the devil incarnate as she was the sole reason my GPA was below average. I would've taken the class with any other teacher, without hesitation. Maybe that would've prevented me from repeating the class. Once the bell rang for fifth period, I already knew how the scenario would play out. Ms. Brander would make us take an assessment to judge how well we knew the material, which we hadn't learned yet, and then hound us for the remainder of the year for doing badly. She was the type of person that would yell at you for being confused and then yell at you for not asking questions. Either way, there wasn't a situation in which you could go through a single class without a full blown lecture. I couldn't remember a single person in the class that didn't get verbally tortured by her, even the kids that aced her tests would reamed each day. This time around however, I wasn't going to put up with it. With the class fully alert I couldn't do anything, plus I had to finish the god damn exam. Every time I tried to doze of, she would smack the desk with a ruler instantly robbing me of the sleep mistress's embrace. After we answered what we could on the exam, she lectured us on the importance of geometry and trigonometry. I do admit that they're important but I wasn't designing buildings for a living, I just wanted to get my diploma so I could get a degree being some glorified assistant at some firm. I tried taking the high road and attempted to ignore the poison spewing out her mouth but how long could one turn the other cheek. After two sessions of listening to how much of failure I was doomed to be, I ran out of cheeks. I solved 7 out of the 10 questions correctly on the assessment and she was still on my ass, on the first day no less. I had one of the highest scores in the class leading to the assumption I prepared for the beforehand but instead of getting a break I scolded for a half-assed effort in preparation. Instead of not preparing for the class I didn't prepare enough, which was apparently worse than the former. My patience ran thin extremely quick, she needed to be put in her place or muzzled at least. While she sat at her desk waiting for us to solve a question on the board, I tried to test out a theory. I imagined her having an orgasm and snapped my finger. At first there was no effect but as soon as she grabbed the desk to stand up, she quickly got pinned to the chair. I knew she was in another world by the way she was biting her lip, I sat right in front of her so I could hear a couple of barely audible moans. With my theory a success, I went back to the problem and focused on my notebook. Even after everyone had finished with the problem she remained seated, I knew she wasn't going to risk getting up. She was too embarrassed, one could see it cemented on her face. She wasn't getting up anytime soon and the sheer fear on her face was enough to bring me peace. Instead of explaining the problem or the steps of how to correctly solve it, she assigned us a page in the textbook to work on for the remainder of the class. While I worked through the page at my own pace, I occasionally stole a few glances. What I saw was the same with each glance, confusion and fear. Time flew by as the bell rang not even a minute later, usually the class felt like an eternity. As I walked to the door, I noticed that this was one of the classrooms that wasn't renovated yet. It was the old woodshop lab that got converted into three classrooms, this particular one had a heavy steel door devoid of any windows. All in all, there was no peeking into the room. Dreamworld I was at peace and had no intention of vengeance in my mind but the id would listen, it kept telling me to take the chance. I was alone with Ms. Brander in a room that was never visited, the room was also free for the next two periods. I tried to shake off the urge but my body wouldn't leave the room. "Is there a problem?" She noticed that I was lingering around. The darker part of my mind kept asserting that this was my dream, nobody could judge. The dream was just another word for fantasy, there was no reason that I shouldn't give in to urges. I tried to summon some moral counter but that department was closed at the moment, as the seconds passed so did my reluctance. "Yes, I do have a problem Ms. Brander." Before she could respond I snapped my fingers and she was hit with another orgasm, she couldn't control it as she leaned back into the chair while her hips jerked upwards. As I sat there observing the magnificent sight, I realized that this would make a great memory. It was unfortunate I left my phone at the principal's office, otherwise a nice family movie could've been made. After the wave of euphoria and erratic breathing, she finally regained control of her body. Embarrassment instantly took over her primary expression as she did everything to avoid eye contact. "Look at me." I pulled up a seat right next her and relaxed myself. She caught on much faster than the principal and realized I was the one behind the strange experience. "Look at me or I make you piss all over your clothes, you know I can do it." She hesitated for a moment but eventually gave in. When she turned to face me I grabbed her cheeks with one hand and brought her lips close to mine before taking what I wanted. She didn't even struggle when my tongue went on an expedition in her mouth. Eventually I had my fill, "give me your phone." Gone was the struggle and she simply obeyed. I added myself as a contact and texted my phone, "okay now, gimme your panties." She avoided eye contact at all times as she stood up slowly and rolled up her black ankle length skirt. She put her hand underneath and pulled down her black panties before handing them to me. They had wet stain in the middle that when brought to her attention only reddened her cheeks further, turns out my math teacher had some fetishes that weren't getting taken care of. I smirked as she as I saw her nipples nearly pierce through her pink knit sweater. Before leaving I took another kiss and assured that it wasn't our last meeting, I could've swore muffled a moan as I walked away.