Sweet Dreams Are Made Of This by blank_sugar (mast, nc, pierc, preg, demon) Sarah closed her eyes and dreamed. She was in high school again, she thought, although the school didn't look like quite right. The people there were mostly people from her adult life - there was her secretary kissing a boy by the water fountain; there was her neighbor carrying trig books. And where she would have sworn there were lockers was a giant picture window, and outside it was night. Why was she in high school at night? And why was she wearing nothing but an afghan blanket? Sarah looked up at the clock. 11:53. No time to ponder these things now, she had to hurry if she was going to make it in time for her third period Bio class. Where was Bio? Shit, she was naked and she didn't have textbooks and she didn't know where her class was - she was so going to end up in detention this afternoon... morning? Just as she started to panic, Sarah looked behind her and saw the door of the Bio classroom. She sighed with relief, and dashed towards it, her blanket flapping off the backs of her thighs. She stopped for a moment and realized for the first time - how had she missed this before? - that Bio was held in room 666. She laughed, stepped inside, and took her usual seat at the back of the room, carefully adjusting her blanket to keep her tits from flopping out as she sat. Sarah didn't pay much attention in class. It was a long, boring lecture on human reproduction. What did she care? She'd never have kids. Other suckers wanted to be saddled with a screaming, slimy little thing that puked all over the place and grew up to hate you anyway, and half the people here -would- have them before they got to be twenty, but not her. Oh, no. She'd be free forever. It wasn't just reproduction that bored her though - biology in general put her right to sleep. Even Latin wasn't half so boring. She'd never have made it through if the teacher hadn't been so handsome. Mr. di Montino wasn't conventionally good looking, but then, neither was Sarah. She could have stood to lose a few pounds, and he obviously wasn't Arnold Schwartzenegger under that pressed white shirt and black tie, and they both wore black-framed glasses, and his hair was always a bit of a mess, and in high school she just never felt pretty. But he was so handsome - knowing it made her feel special; she was sure no one else in the world realized what soft, blue eyes he had, or what a nice smile broke through on the rare occasions in which he smiled. There wasn't another girl on Earth that understood. She slid her hand under the black afghan and began rubbing her pussy. She hadn't really thought about it to start, but she decided to keep going. She was in the back row; no one would see. She slid her index finger into herself and began rubbing that little rough spot that she liked. Stare straight at the teacher. No one notices what you're doing if you look like you're paying attention to the teacher. And after all, she was. She remembered that time in the back of Lisa's boyfriend's truck, the one where the did it under the stars and he lay on top of her afterwards listening to her heart beat, and she substituted Mr. D for Lisa's boyfriend. She was undoing his tie and sliding it through his collar. She was unbuttoning his shirt. His chest was so nice - soft with little black wisps of hair. She was sliding it over his shoulders and he was kissing her. He was running his tongue over her lips. He was pulling his shirt away from her and sliding it off his wrists. He was pulling open her blanket. She could feel the night air on her skin. He was kissing down her neck. He was kissing her collarbone. He was kissing her breasts, her nipples. He was running his hands all over her, just like she'd wanted Lisa's boyfriend to do. He slid his hand over her right tit. He ran his index finger over her nipple. She breathed in and held it. Her heart was ready to fling itself out of her chest. She heard a zipper and felt him shifting on top of her. His pants brushed her thighs as they passed over his thighs, over his knees, his calves, his ankles. She reached down and put her hand through the hole in his boxer shorts. She wrapped her hand around his warm, rigid penis. Gods, it was huge. She wondered if she was even ready to fuck someone so large. She ran her thumb over it. It felt oddly lumpy. She opened her eyes and screamed. He was enormous - probably nine feet tall - with a mouth whose corners curled into itself when he grinned. He had six arms, all ending in hands with taloned fingers. He had black hair, so black it stood in silhouette against the night sky, it was long and dirty- looking. His eyes were red. And she was still holding his cock. "Is everything all right, darling?" he laughed. His voice echoed and boomed. Surely someone had heard him... No, she'd picked this field to park in because it was miles from anything. Lightning could strike out here and no one would see it. "What the fuck are you?" she said. She'd meant to sound strong and confident, but she'd gagged it out so quietly and with such trembling in her voice that she wasn't even sure he'd have heard her. He smiled - gods, what a horrible grin - and leaned close to her. She tried to skitter away, off the end of the truck bed, but her legs wouldn't respond. Her feet couldn't get traction. And she was still holding his cock. "Everyone always asks the same questions. You people are so very uninventive." He put his face close to hers. She couldn't even breathe. "Are you familiar with the word 'incubus,' little girl?" She tried to nod, but she couldn't. He seemed to know anyway. "Goody!" he said, "That will save us all sorts of time! Now then," he said rising and looking at her body. "You have lovely skin. Has anyone ever told you that? Well, no matter. If it's any consolation to you, you are very beautiful, regardless of what you think. There's just one thing missing... ah!" He smiled again and reached down. He put two of his hands on her breasts and she tried to scream but nothing came out but a wispy, high moan. There was the sound of metal on metal and her nipples were suddenly struck with an awful pain. She felt like someone had stuck knives through them. He reached own and put another hand on her cunt, and there was the sound again, and same sharp pain in her clit and pussy lips. He put another hand on her mouth and her eyes grew wide. Clink! Her tongue jerked and throbbed. And at last, she let go of his penis. He waved one more hand over her chest, then let her go, threw up his hands, and said, "Voila! A little something to remember me by!" She looked down at herself. There were thin rings in her nipples connected with a silver chain, and there were similar rings in her cunt lips. She could feel something in her clit, and as she moved her tongue, she realized she had something sticking through it. "What ith thith?" she gasped. "What it looks like. Don't worry about the lisp; that will pass once you get used to the tongue stud." He rubbed a knuckle into her ringed cunt. She was still wet. He ran his talons gently over her breasts and slid his horrible tongue over her thighs. She wanted to be anywhere else, but she could feel herself getting wetter. He came down on top of her. He grabbed her arms with one pair of hands and her legs with another. He rubbed his cock head into her entrance. "Please," she said, but she was too disoriented to know whether she meant 'please don't' or 'please do.' Everything was blurred and her brain was clouded. She wanted Mr. D to stick it in her. No, this wasn't Mr. D was it? Please, please, please put it in me. He did. Slowly. She could feel him moving inside her, down, down, down. It felt like he'd go in forever. Maybe he would. No, he'd stopped. He was pulling back. And then in again. And back. Slowly, steadily. And when he bottomed out - or she bottomed out, she couldn't tell anymore - he pressed his pelvis into her clit and she felt like a spring was tightening in her. Thrust. Tighter. Thrust. Tighter. Thrust. Tighter. His tongue slid over her breasts. Someone was crying out. She was crying out. The spring popped loose and her whole body roiled with fire and joy, she was tingling it felt so good and she was thrashing around in his grip and he was still thrusting and she was burning up, she was sure of it, every cell of her body was bursting at once, fireworks inside her and then she felt him stiffen and she heard someone howl was it her or him and she felt warm jizz flood her. His cock was deflating, and she could hear herself gasping and gasping and somewhere, a voice was saying, "Semen passes through the urethra and is expelled into the vagina. Millions of sperm swim through the uterus and into the fallopian tubes, where only one will manage to bind to a woman's egg and fertilize it. The fertilized egg travels down the fallopian tube and into the uterus where it is embedding itself into your uterine lining, and pregnancy will be assured." And then she sat up and she was in her bedroom. Her sheets were drenched and she was shivering, but not from cold. Her heart was pounding and her breathing was still short. She put her hands on her stomach. Had she put on weight that she hadn't noticed? Why were her nipples so sore? She shook her head, "Gods, I'm enormous." She hadn't remembered her stomach feeling so large. Still blurry from sleep, she switched on the light, and went into the bathroom to weigh herself. She'd been 185 the last time she'd checked, but now she felt like she weighed a ton. And she was slightly nauseous. And she could hear a chain jingling. Had she gone to bed with jewelry on? She put on her glasses and looked in the mirror and screamed. ********************************* Credit where credit is due, this story was very loosely inspired by Monocle's excellent "Spell Failure," available at http://www.asstr.org/files/Authors/Monocle/www/Stories/Spell_Failure.html ***************************** last updated: 8.6.03. May be revised and expanded in the near future.