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Wet Dreams (Semi Sci-Fi Whacky-Shit, mf, ff)

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on: November 22, 2014, 03:59:57 PM
Title         : Wet Dreams

Author     : MeatBot

Keywords : Semi Sci-Fi Whacky-Shit, mf, ff

Date        : 20141122

Mail         : meatbot777 at gmail dot com

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Synopsis : A teenaged girl leads an active dream life that she almost can't tell from reality.

Apologies to James Thurber.

Disclaimer : Copyright by the author. Permission is granted to archive, repost, or publish in no-cost or low-cost archives, periodicals, anthologies of this type of material if unaltered and attributed to the author. This is a work of fiction. The author does not condone any sexual activity among persons under 16 in real life.

These are just words, people. Just words. If you have a problem with words see a competent shrink or an English teacher.


The beast paused and sniffed the air. The air was thick with oily black smoke. The whole city was overcast with the haze from fires that burned sporadically. He turned as some people ran screaming out of a burning building. He laughed slightly because it amused him. The silly little worms. How easily they died. Caught between their fear of him or burning alive. He leapt, twice, and took a few running steps and was in the middle of them. He seized a man in his teeth and shook him like a mad dog. The man screamed and died. The others scattered like roaches. He started to chase them but he was hungry. He sat down on his back feet and started to munch contentedly on the biceps of the man's upper arm.

He heard a noise behind him. What? he thought, did they meet something worse than me? Are they coming back? As he turned, he distinctly heard someone clear their throat. What is this shit? he thought.

He turned and faced the newcomer. Shit! he thought. His beastly brain raced to figure out a way to take on this new threat. And I was doing so well, he thought. I've killed a thousand in the last few days. I might have been made a Centurion when I got back to the ship and they downloaded my brain.

But the beast knew he was fucked. Word had gotten around. There were two things that the beast and his brothers feared, in this new world. One was the Overlord, who pretty much everyone feared. And the other thing. Shit. The other thing stood right in front of him, idly slapping her sword against the palm of her left hand.

The Virgin? he thought. Now? Here, and now? The fucking Virgin? What did I do to deserve this?

The Virgin had already killed over half of the beast's brothers and sisters. She had a fearsome reputation. The beast knew that he could never take her in a straight fight. She was beyond fast and her blade sang when it tasted Shrike blood. She had killed at least one of his family every night for the last thirty days.

She slowly began to walk towards him. The beast whined and limped backwards a few steps, favoring his back left paw. He shook his head and blood splattered from his muzzle. He stumbled and fell sideways, crying loudly. He could see her approaching from his peripheral vision.

"Awww..." he heard her soft voice. "Poor beastie. Are you hurt?"

He whined loudly and sat hard in the street. That hurt, there was broken glass and chunks of rock and brick scattered everywhere. He whined again, whipping his head back and forth and rolling his eyes.

"You are a crazy one," she said. She was holding her sword down by her leg. He didn't think she looked ready to fight. He wondered if he was fooling her. If he could just get a second's head start, he might have a chance...

He felt a great satisfaction as he thought of being the one to kill her. He would garner fame and fortune if he could do it, if he could stop the threat. He would be rich beyond imagining. Beast-rich. He would get slaves and meat, much meat. And, he'd get the first choice of his many sisters to mate with. No one would mate with this beast, right now. He was a nothing, a nobody at the moment. All that would change if he could kill this bitch, the Virgin.

The Virgin was less than twenty feet away. Barely a hop, he thought. He didn't tense up for the jump though, he knew she'd see his muscles tighten if he did. He relaxed and lay on his side, panting and whining.

"Poor beastie!" she said again. She really sounded sympathetic, he thought. Just a little closer, he thought. Just come a little bit closer, bitch.

Jump! He put every bit of strength he had into the leap, knowing his massive weight would crush her, no matter how tough she was. His eyes were wide open, looking for her as he fell back to the ground. Shit, he had time to think. He hit the pavement hard, and rolled. Shit! He hadn't landed on her somehow. He had missed. She wasn't where he'd thought she would be. Blinding pain consumed his ankles as he fell.

He tried to stand but fell back onto the street. The backs of his ankles burned like fire. Worse than fire. He scrabbled with his arms on the broken street, trying to lift himself back to his feet. His feet just wouldn't work, though. The searing pain finally gave him a clue. He'd been hamstrung. The bitch had cut his tendons as he flew past her. He roared in pain, frustration and rage. He saw a flickering movement out of the corner of his eye, but just for a split second. Warm fluid gushed down his cheek, spewing from his right eye. Shit. She'd cut him again, she'd split his eye open with her bastard blade.

He knew she was somewhere on his blind side. He whipped his head around, right into her blade. The tip of it sliced into his soft ear, going deep inside his head. Weirdly, that one didn't hurt at all. He felt a great tiredness come over him. He wanted to just lay down in the street and rest. Once he killed her he could do that.

He batted out with his front paw to where she would have had to stand to cut his ear. His paw slapped the pavement, though. He had felt the slightest of contacts with something. He wondered if it was her. Damn! How did she move so fast? Something struck the back of his wrist, hard, and he felt another searing pain. This one did hurt. He looked down with his good eye. His paw was gone, literally. There was just a stump there, spraying blood. Shit, he thought again. Something kicked him hard, on the back. He began to turn. But he was going so slow by now he knew it would take forever to turn all the way around. He forced himself to do it. I can rest after I kill her, he thought. I can rest then.

He was unconscious when she slit his throat, ear to ear. He went, quietly, his soul departed and he died. If these things have souls, she thought. If souls exist in the first place.

She slung her blade hard in a wide arc and the blood on it sprayed out around her. She gave it a perfunctory examination, pleased to see no nicks in it. She'd hit bone twice on this one, she was getting careless. She felt a slight sting on her right forearm, and looked at the tiny scratch. He'd gotten her, alright. If she'd been a thousandth of a second slower he would have cut her good. These things had claws as hard as iron and as sharp as razors.

She heard a noise and spun, ready to kill again. A man and woman crept through the wreckage towards her. They looked like refugees but you could never be sure. Not now.

"Help us. Please," the man said. The woman was crying, staring blankly ahead.

"You should have left the city days ago," she said, feeling sorry for them but irritated by their obvious stubbornness. Why did people hang around? she wondered. We knew these bastards were coming days ago.

"We need food. She hasn't eaten in days."

The Virgin reached into her pocket and tossed a few power bars on the ground in front of the man.

"You need to get the fuck out of here," she said. "Find some soldiers. They'll show you where to go. I don't have time to take you there myself."

"Thank you, oh, thank you," the man said, tears streaming down his cheeks. She was disgusted at how sorry she felt for the couple. No wonder we're losing this fight, she thought. The man gathered up the food, took the woman's arm in his and they hobbled off. The woman had never spoken or even looked at her, the virgin realized. She had looked shell-shocked. She wondered what the woman had seen, to knock her mind out like that. The people who stayed saw the shit, that was for sure. Nothing like life even a month ago had been. How quickly we get used to the unimaginable. She sighed and turned back down the street, deeper into enemy territory. She was hungry. She had beasts to kill.


Charity Leann Spivey had a problem. Most teenaged kids had problems but she'd never heard of another kid having anything like her problem. And her problem didn't happen at school or during the evenings at home with her family, like most other people's problems. Her problem happened in the middle of the night. Charity dreamed like crazy, all night long sometimes. She woke up tired, almost exhausted at times from dreaming so much. And real, her dreams were incredibly realistic. Whacky, but realistic. Tonight had been no exception.

Her dreams matched reality surprisingly good at times. This time for instance. She'd dreamed some kind of beast thing had scratched her, and sure enough this morning she had a scratch on her arm. Last night or even sometimes during the night she'd scratched herself on something and her mind had incorporated the scratch into her dream. Crazy. Totally crazy. She dressed, brushed her teeth, and headed for school.


School was okay, dullsville at best. She had lunch with Darlene, her best friend. She related her latest dream to her, and Darlene analyzed it in her own peculiar fashion.

"You were the virgin?" Darlene asked. Charity nodded.

"That was my name in the dream, yes." she replied.

"Charity. That's the key. Your subconscious is either concerned that you need to keep your virginity or that you need to lose it. You just need to figure out which."

Charity snorted. She didn't have much confidence in Darlene's armchair interpretations, but she didn't want to hurt her friend's feelings.

"And what?" Charity finally said. "You mean if I get my cherry popped, these dreams will stop?"

It was Darlene's turn to snort. "It's probably not that simple. But your brain is trying to tell you something. You need to be more receptive."

"Yeah, yeah." Charity said, finishing up her burrito. She crushed the wrapper into a ball and tossed it into the trash can, ten feet away. Darlene's jaw dropped.

"See, see how good you are?" she said. "Didn't you have a dream last week you were a basketball pro? You shouldn't want these dreams to stop because they are helping you."

"Ugh, don't remind me." That one had bothered Charity. She hated the dreams where she was a guy, and the shower scene in that one had been pretty difficult. Eye-opening, and a little frightening. Charity had actually spent time wondering what went on in the boy's showers in the past, but for some reason it bothered her when she got to see it. She wondered if her subconscious thought all those rumors about basketball players were true. It sure was in the dream.

"You are the most incredible lucid dreamer I know," said Darlene. "Well, you are the only lucid dreamer I know. I'm so damn jealous of you, girl." She sighed.

"I just want to get some sleep," said Charity. "Damn. Every single fuckin' night."

"I never dream. You are lucky, girl."

"Yeah, yeah."


The starship spun in place, re-orienting itself. Lieutenant Placid Strength turned her own ship slightly and lined a gunsight up on an engine cluster. She waited, almost holding her breath. She imagined the enemy pilot flicking switches and finally grabbing the stick. The time just felt right. As she squeezed the trigger she saw the enemy's force-field falling, preparing for thrust. Bingo.

Her laser hit the engine pod just as the chambers flooded with highly reactive fuel. The explosion was pretty intense, and the ship spun madly off to the side, almost out of her field of vision. She felt debris bouncing off her hull. Shit. She whipped the stick around, and inched the throttle forward.

After a few moments the bad guys managed to get the spin stopped, and stabilized the craft somewhat. Placid hit them pretty hard amidships about that time, and fired grapples into a few portholes. She winched the two craft together, and gave the grunts in her belly a go.

Her men swarmed out, and a few demolition charges later they were pouring into the hatch. The bastards are as good as dead, now, she thought. This whole war had been take no prisoners and this battle would be no different. Guessing from the size of the craft there would probably be two hundred crew on board. That was a lot of killing. That would take some time.

"Ahem." said a soft voice behind her. She spun her seat and confronted the newcomer.

"Well, well... very heroic, lieutenant." said the woman. Placid squirmed. This bitch. Why this mission, of all times? Why'd they have to send an observer this time? She'd never even been told the woman's name. Just pretend she's not there, they said. Forget her.

"Just doing my duty, ma'am," she finally said. She unbuckled, and stood up. The other woman backed up a step.

"Lieutenant," she said. "I'm sorry we seem to be on the wrong foot. And I'm sorry if that sounded sarcastic. I shouldn't have said it like that. I'm sorry."

"It's okay... I'm sorry too, I know I haven't been in the best of moods the last few..."

"Lots of stress, lieutenant... this war brings out the worst in all of us."


"When's the last time you went on R&R?"

"No idea. A year at least."

"That's not very reg..."

"No, I know it's not. But I do what I'm told."

The woman approached, stopping just a foot or two away. Placid smelled her, she was so close. A hint of perfume or deodorant, and some honest sweat. The woman was attractive, she had to admit. The guys had been just plain nuts about her when she came onboard. She was beautiful. They watched through the window as the last of the troopers funneled into the hatchway.

"Now what?" the woman said.

"Now we kill a few hours while they mop up, and yank the AI cores out of the 'puters." Placed said.

"Placid. I like you. I've already given you a completely green sheet. This should help your career immensely. Can you come back to my cabin? I got a bottle of clear, we can have a sip and celebrate. I know that's not reg..."

An hour later Placid lazily lifted her head from the woman's crotch. They kissed, long and slow, with lots of tongue.

"Yum..." the woman said. "I taste good."

"Sure as fuck," said Placid, dropping her face back down to the beautiful aromatic cunt below her.

"How much time we got?" said the woman.

"I'd guess at least another hour..." Placid said, her voice muffled by the woman's genitals. The woman's clit was out of this world. It was like sucking a little boy's dick. Shit! she thought. This is turning out way better than I thought.

"Think you can make me cum again?"

"I'd stake my life on it, darling."

"Thank you..."


Charity woke, her heart pounding. She lay in the darkness, trying to slow her breathing. Jeezus. That had been intense. A woman! she thought, giggling. I was making it with a woman! Sometimes these dreams were worth the trouble. That was one of those times. She'd been cumming like crazy in her dream and she was sure she'd really cum. She reached down, and touched her pussy. Jeezus, it was dripping, oozing. And she just felt that warm glow, that feeling that she'd just cum. She knew she'd cum. Why can't I have one of those every night? she thought. That's about as much fun as I've had in a long time. And with a woman! She giggled some more.


The next day she told Darlene a mildly edited version of the dream. Darlene was envious, and just sat there with her mouth open. When Charity finished, Darlene said, "Jeezus H, girl. You are too much. Your dreams are too cool. I'm jealous, I'm really jealous."

"Well, they're not always that good..."

"Damn. You made it with a woman. That is too cool."

Charity giggled. Darlene had confided in her several times that she thought she might be gay, but Darlene seemed to be about as afraid of girls as she was boys. At the moment, the two of them had classified themselves as "nonosexuals". Darlene was too shy and scared. And Charity... Charity liked boys, but she was too nervous. She wasn't exactly shy, but boys just made her nervous. So intense and eager and all that. In her dreams, though, she always seemed to know what to do. Too bad real life isn't like that, she thought.


Charity had tried to talk with her mom about her dreams, in the past. She felt like her mom kind of blew it off, though. She realized that she probably didn't get across the idea of how intense they were. Well, she didn't want to sound crazy. She just wanted a sounding board about it, not to get committed. She'd thought about going to the school shrink but she didn't was to have it on her record so she just suffered through it.

Most of the dreams were nonsensical. Some of them she forgot, almost instantly. Some were intense, and some were scary. She'd had one about the end of the world that still gave her chills. She had taken a class on psychology, but none of that stuff seemed to help her. She couldn't help speculating on the origins of these dreams. Why was her mind doing this to her? she thought. She still had no answers, though.

She sat that evening, at dinner with her parents, and listened to their chatter. I was flying a starship last night, she thought. Wonder what they'd think if they could have seen me? Wonder what they'd really think if they'd seen me eating that girl's pussy... shit. I wish my life was just one tenth as busy and interesting as my dreams are. And sexy. She sighed and took a bite of pot roast.


The wind blew icy knives through her ragged coat. She shivered, and winced when a hole in her gloves let the frozen steel of her rifle touch her finger. Shit, it was cold. It was always cold, here on Destiny, but the last few weeks had been colder than ever. Just about the time the skeletons had shown up. She wondered, again, as just about every one in the colony had, if that was coincidence, or nature? Did the skeletons migrate? They seemed to be coming down out of the north, where the blasts of cold came from. But the weather observations from orbit had shown no real seasonal weather changes, the planet had no tilt. And here, of course, on the equator, it was milder than the rest of this godforsaken world. It was supposed to be, at least. She softly cursed, for the millionth time, the world brokers that had sold them this piece of shit. And the piece of shit transport that had broken down and left them stuck here.

She heard something crunch in the snow outside the cave. Her eye met Wilbur's, across the mouth from her. He raised his rifle slowly, and she lowered hers to the ready. They stood, waiting.

God those fuckers are fast! she had time to think. Her AK747 was gone, yanked from her hands. It had fired once, as her fingers raked across the trigger, and she hoped the bullet at least hit something. Wilbur was gone, her peripheral vision told her. She'd seen him get yanked out into the cold, as quickly as her AK had. She stumbled backwards, fumbling for her pistol, but she never had a chance to get it out. A skinny arm, just bone with a thin layer of hairy flesh over it, came out of nowhere and smashed into her face. As she lay stretched out in the ice she finally felt warm. The pain had only lasted a second. For the first time in months, she was warm. It felt good. She sighed, contented.

The skeleton laid her crumpled form in the snow, and cried over her. It cried for all the evil in the universe, it's frozen heart melting with sorrow. Glittering icy tears froze on it's leathery cheeks. It cried for what it had to do, for what it had done, and for all the deaths it caused. It cried for sorrow, and for joy. That's what the skeletons did. They just cried.


Charity sat with Darlene, in the stands. They hardly even glanced at the basketball game beneath them. Well, Charity did a little, mostly to sneer at the clumsy high school players. She'd been playing pro basketball a week ago, she knew some moves that would blow these guys out of the water. But, piss on that. She wasn't interested in basketball.

Darlene was leaning out of her seat, trying to see around a dozen people if Chuck Simone was looking her way. Shit. He wasn't.

"He doesn't even know I exist. What's the use," whispered Darlene to Charity.

"I thought you had decided to be gay," Charity whispered back.

"I haven't decided anything. You don't get to decide shit like that, you just have to figure out what it is that you are." replied Darlene, leaning out of her seat again.

"I see," said Charity. She had just seen Donald Feldstein and one of his friends climbing the stands, heading their way. Well, they would pass close by the girls, if they made it this far. And... wasn't that Dick Johnson with him? Dick the dick? Charity had heard rumors about that guy.

"Darlene!" she hissed. Darlene turned. She still hadn't seen Don and Dick, Charity realized. Charity nodded her head down the stairs at the boys. Darlene's eyes followed.

"Look available!" Charity, said, and slid out of her seat and into the one next to it. There, she thought. Empty seat, a girl, empty seat, a girl. They'd have to be gay to pass this shit up.

Darlene had a funny look on her face. Shit, don't blow this for me, Charity had time to think, when Donald stood even with her. She'd talked to him just last week, outside of class, well, just for a moment... but he seemed to think she was okay... she casually glanced his way, and hoped she didn't look desperate.

"Hi, Charity!" Donald said. Dick looked like he was going to keep on walking up the stairs but then he stopped also.

"Hi, Don," said Charity. "Fancy meeting you here." She winced. What a dumb thing to say.

"Well," said Donald. "It's a school game, and we go to the school. Not too surprising, when you think of it."

"No," said Charity. "Not too surprising."

"Are these seats taken?" Don asked, indicating the seats next to and inbetween the girls.

"Oh, no. Please." said Charity, wincing again. Why did I say please? she thought. Donald moved in front of her stepping on her toes. "Sorry," he said, and she nodded. He sat, and then Dick moved past him, also stepping on Charity's feet. "Sorry," Dick said. "S'okay," she replied.

She looked down the row, satisfied. Darlene had a slightly horrified expression on her face, but so what. This was a sign, Charity thought. This is like one of my dreams. Maybe it will end up that way, too.

The game progressed. Charity and Donald talked, and giggled, laughed, joked, and finally even whispered to each other.

"Your friend seems very shy," Donald whispered in her ear. His breath was hot, and felt good on her ear.

"She's like that," Charity whispered back. She tried to breathe as much hot breath into his ear as he had hers. "She'll warm up eventually."

"I'm glad we met you guys," Donald whispered, when they had moved their heads back to his speaking position.

"Me too," Charity said, giggling.

"You are too cool," he said, and she giggled some more.


"White man come. Red man die. Red man must survive," said Sky Chief. The other chiefs grunted assent. Hidden Brook listened, her face down, her eyes averted. She got to listen to the chiefs when they met, because she was the serving girl. She fetched them food and water, when they desired it. And... sometimes other things that they desired...

"White man must be stopped. This red man's land," said a chief. Sky Chief nodded.

"White man bring rifle, horse. Is not all bad," said one of the chiefs. A few chiefs grunted assent to that, too.

"And firewater. Don't forget firewater," said another. There were more grunts at that, vigorous ones.

"Firewater bad," said Sky Chief.

"But taste good," said someone else. Sky Chief grew frustrated. He didn't feel like he was communicating effectively.

"Hidden Brook!" he called out, and she stepped forward and bowed low.

"Tell us of that dream," Sky Chief said. Hidden Brook gulped, embarrassed to have to speak in front of such a large important group.

"It was in the time which is yet to be," she said shyly. The chiefs listened. Some of them were shocked that Sky Chief would let a lowly woman talk at the assemblage of chiefs. Out of respect for him they listened, though. She continued.

"In that time, red men were equal to white men, and very wealthy. They had much wampum and women and firewater, as much as they wanted. They built great teepees that the white man came to, and the white man gave away much wampum when inside. Food and firewater was served, and celebrations happened. Things made of wood and iron and glass made noises and rang bells, and lights lit up without fire or heat. Sometimes wampum came from these... things... but never more than was put into them to start with. It was beautiful but also frightening and confusing to me, a simple woman."

She ran out of breath and stopped, embarrassed. Sky Chief nodded thoughtfully.

"This is a prophecy. It is truth," he finally said. "This is why red man must survive. Some day we will be wealthy and own large teepees, if we just survive. Someday we will take the white man's wampum, and grow rich."

The other chiefs seemed satisfied. They nodded and agreed among themselves. They each clasped Sky Chief's arm. Everyone seemed to agree, the red man must survive. The future looked bright, if they could just survive.

"Hidden Brook!" Sky Chief called out. He was already loosening his loincloth. "These are my friends! You must polish their totem poles with your lips!" He sniggered wickedly.

Hidden Brook shyly came forward again, embarrassed. She dropped to her knees, as she did before the chief every night. Who will be first, she wondered. A chief named Fast Antelope seemed to be the bravest. He dropped his loincloth. Goodness, thought Hidden Brook. His name should be Big Antelope. She was glad to do this for the chief. She was glad to bow before all the chiefs.


That morning, Charity just lay in bed, laughing to herself, bemused, remembering her dream. She was a little embarrassed, as Hidden Brook had been. What on earth inspired that dream? she wondered. And damn, she thought. My jaw is even sore. What the fuck? She remembered the feeling of those stiff tubes of flesh in her mouth, and the musty taste of their... manly essences. Why would I dream that? she thought... putting ten men's penises in my mouth, one after the other... why the fuck would my head do that to me? Although... in the dream, I did seemed to enjoy it... I am not telling Darlene this one... I wonder if real sex is that good. Well, not just sucking guys off, sex, real sex. Missionary position sex. She hoped to find out someday. Lord knows, she thought, I wonder if my real sex life will ever be as interesting as my dream sex life. Although I don't really want to suck off ten guys at a time... she burped softly, and laughed again.


That afternoon, Charity and Darlene met Don and Dick at the Hardlee's next to the school. Darlene hadn't been too crazy about the idea because she still wasn't sure about Dick.

"I swear, he tried to feel my boob with his shoulder at the game," she told Charity, who just laughed. Charity wished Don would have tried that with her. She'd have let him, she thought. She was ready for interesting things to happen. She was ready for her life to start.

They sat for maybe twenty minutes, growing more and more impatient, until the boys finally showed up, embarrassed.

"We had a... parental malfunction," said Donald. "My dad locked his keys in the car."

"It's cool," said Charity. They ordered, got their shit, and she and Don sat on one side of the table, while Darlene and Dick sat on the other. This is working out well, thought Charity. And Darlene seemed to be coming out of her shell.

Thirty minutes later they walked down the sidewalk, through the gathering gloom. As natural as could be, Don had taken her hand, outside the restaurant, and she had let him. They'd been holding hands the whole way, now. Very good, Charity thought to herself. Her mind was feverishly trying to think of ways to speed the process up a bit. The four of them approached the elementary school playground. She led the group into it.

The girls sat in the swings while the guys pushed them. Oh, thought Charity, this was a good idea. Every time she came back, Don put his hands right on her butt and pushed her. This is fun, she thought.

They finally gravitated to the merry go round, and sat on it, and lazily spun it around with their feet. Darlene and Dick sat on the far side, and Charity and Don whispered and giggled to each other. Charity was having a great time.

"Did you talk to Dick?" Charity whispered. Don nodded.

"Yes. He likes her. He thinks she's hot. Did you talk to her?"

"Yes. She already liked him. And she's curious..." Charity shut up. She wasn't sure if it was too early to talk about things like this, so she shut up.

"Curious? About what?" said Don. Charity shook her head.

"Nothing," she said. He laughed.

"I know what. The rumors. Big Dick Johnson, the Dick with the big johnson. Yes, they're true."

She looked askance at him.

"Hey," he said. "Gym class. The showers, you know? That's the only reason I know."

"Okay, okay," she said. Enough information. And, interesting information that she could pass on. "I don't think it matters that much to her. She just wants a nice guy."

"Dick's a nice guy, once he gets to know you. At least he's not a... dick," whispered Don, and Charity giggled.

Darlene's house was the closest, so they walked her home first. Then Dick followed behind Charity and Don as they walked to her house. Dick waited patiently at the mailbox while Don walked Charity up to her front porch. They said goodnight and hugged for a moment.

"Charity," Don said.


"May I kiss you? Just a quick little kiss?"

She giggled. "Of course, Don. You don't have to ask."

He leaned forward, and gave her a quick peck on the mouth. Shit, she thought. That was not enough.

"Don," she said. "That was not enough." She leaned forward, closed her eyes, and pursed her lips. To her satisfaction he gave her a good one, right on the lips.

"Thank you," she said, and smiled at him.

"No. Thank you," he said. He smiled back, and then turned, and she stood and watched him and Dick walk away. My goodness, she thought, I am moving up in the world. That was cool. My first kiss, my first kiss in the real world, not the dream world. She turned and let herself in the house. She could smell barbecue in the kitchen. Excellent, she thought. Excellent.


She touched the pistol, still tucked in her garter. She knew she could not afford to let the pirate put his hand beneath her skirt. He seemed satisfied at the moment to just paw her breasts. Her corset was all the way untied and her breasts were exposed to his attentions. His, and any one else that might walk by the cabin. She glanced to the corner. The children were watching her, wide-eyed. She winked at the girl and got a weak smile in return. She knew they were scared. Hell, she was scared, too.

The pirate grunted, squeezing her fat nipples. That actually feels good, she had time to think. His hands were rough and calloused, but that seemed to add to the experience. She casually glanced down to his codpiece. It was pretty pronounced. He must like me, she thought.

A roar of rage came from the door. Goodness! It was the captain. In just a few short steps he entered the room and slugged the pirate in the head. The man fell, and began to crawl to the door. The captain pulled a flintlock from his belt and put a soft lead ball in the back of the man's head. Brains and bits of bone splattered everywhere. She stared, aghast, and heard the children crying in the background.

"You should treat a lady," the captain snarled, "like a lady."

He turned and gently lifted her corset to hide her nakedness. He carefully laced it up again, and pulled her blouse down from around her neck.

"Lady Wyndor," the captain addressed her. Good, she thought. She hadn't known her own name up until then. "You must forgive the barbarities of my crew. They have been at sea for many... many years."

She nodded, and fanned herself with her hand.

He continued. "I, too, have been at sea for... many years. The pleasure of female companionship is something that I haven't had... well, since Jamaica, to be honest. Would you do the pleasure of dining with me in my cabin tonight?"

"Yes, captain, I will," she replied. Ha, she thought. Alone, at last. Then maybe I can do some good with this pistol.

The scene changed, that quickly. She felt a moment of disorientation, then realized she had just finished dinner with the captain. A servant cleared the table, and the captain poured some brandy into two snifters. She touched her pistol, and was dismayed to find it not there. What had happened? Had she left it in her cabin? I thought I came here to shoot him, she thought. Shit! Where is this headed?

The brandy made her cough, and then sneeze. The captain laughed, and offered her his handkerchief. She delicately blew her nose in it, and then kept it, not sure he'd want it back after that.

There was some mumbling conversation that she didn't really understand, although she took part in it.

"It would give me great pleasure to give you great pleasure," the captain finally pronounced, causing her to stop and think. What did he mean by that? He stood, and reached down. He placed one hand behind her legs, and the other behind her back, and she fell, without even intending too, into his arms. He carried her to the large bed in center of the room. What is happening? she thought.

She had looked closely at him when they'd been brought on board, after he had sank the ship they were traveling on. She'd looked at him critically, wanting to hate him. He was everything, to her, that a pirate captain was usually not. Young, handsome, polite, even debonair. He was wasted, she thought, as a pirate. He should be a nobleman, or even a prince. How had he come to be a pirate?

The captain gently slid her blouse over her head. He slowly unlaced her corset, and also lifted it from around her. The cool sea air felt good on her naked breasts. She looked down. Oh, she thought, what nice breasts I have. Full and round, with two plump pink nipples. How kissable they are. She was already hoping they'd be kissed tonight.

The captain found the button that held her skirt on, and unbuttoned it. She lifted her butt so he could slide it down her legs. He inserted a thumb on each side of her hips into the elastic of her bloomers, and she raised again so he could slide them down. A stray thought passed through her brain, making her wonder if they'd actually had elastic way back then. Way back then? Way back now! What?

Oh, she thought. I thought I was shaved. Instead, a nice furry bush confronted her. What the hell, she thought. The captain had stopped to stare, captivated. She laughed softly and started to unbutton his trousers for him but then remembered that he might not like his women to be so sexually liberated.

"My dear, you are delectable. I want to eat you up," he finally said. She knew he was under her spell. Ha ha, she thought, the captor is now the captive. How can I turn this to benefit me, now? To benefit us, she belatedly remembered the children, her charges, left back in her cabin.

"Captain, you may," she said. He turned a puzzled eye to her.

"I may what?" he asked.

"You may eat me up," she simply said, spreading her legs slightly. He got the hint.

In just a few short minutes, she came hard. She had an earth-shaking, wall-breaking orgasm. She wrapped her legs around his head, and pressed his face into her cunt. He laughed somewhere down there, and kept licking. Oh, she thought, go for two, go for two. He went for two. The second one was even better. She writhed, feeling the sweaty sheets beneath her. This even feels like my bed she thought, and then wondered what she meant by that.

The captain had had enough of the munchies. He was ready for his reward. He stood, and unbuttoned his codpiece. Oh my, she thought, as he drew his manhood out. He is indeed master of this ship. Good lord, what a torpedo...

She was so wet he didn't even have to spit on it. He placed the head of his massive cock at the entrance to her womanhood.

"Captain... dearest..." she said, fluttering her eyelashes at him. Yes, she thought, I really did that. "I am still...  still a virgin... please be gentle..."

His eyes lit up. That interested him. Virgins were pretty rare, for pirates. And this one was... just wonderful. He was almost in love with her already. And he was getting to take her maidenhead. He knew that every man she made love to for the rest of her life would be measured against him, his size and his technique. He wanted to make this something special for her, he already loved her that much.

He pressed into her, deeper and deeper. She gave a cry, and he thought, virgin no more. Two tears streaked down the sides of her head, but she dealt with it well. He did feel good, inside her, other than that momentary sting. He filled her up, he made her feel full. He made her feel good. He idly rubbed her clit with his finger, and she squirmed all the harder.

When he hit bottom, she thought she was going to burst, she was so full of him. When he pulled out and pushed back in a wave of pleasure washed over her. God, that feels good, she thought. I want to do this every day from now on. He began to speed up, and she sucked in air, breathing in time with his pounding. She felt tightness in her legs and thighs and her back was slowly arching further and further. This was going to be a good one, she thought, a really good one. Wave after wave of pleasure broke over her. She felt good.

The cabin door burst open. A sailor stood at the door and screamed, "Captain! Warship off the port bow! Flying the royal colors!"

"Oh, bother!" said the captain, still pumping away. Lady Wyndor picked that moment to cum.


"Yes, I know that sounds kind of cliche," said Charity. "But they were pirates."

"Pirates? Like captain Hook?" said Darlene.

"Yes, but much younger and much more handsome. He popped my cherry."

"Lord, girl. You are so lucky." Darlene said, shaking her head.

They were sitting in the cafeteria. They were waiting to see if the guys showed up. So far, nothing.

"Charity," Darlene said, a faraway look on her face. "You say that your dreams always mirror reality. You say that when you get hurt in a dream, and wake up, you have the scar or whatever."

"Yes," said Charity, wondering where Darlene was going with this.

"Have you checked... have you checked to see if you are still a virgin? If your cherry really got popped?"

Shit. That was kind of embarrassing. She hadn't, no. I mean, who keeps an eye on something like that? She knew she was a virgin, she'd never had sex before. She'd tried sticking her fingers in herself, many times. Her finger would reach a ways, but that was it. Her maidenhead was strong, and the hole was pretty tiny. She knew she was still a virgin.

"Darlene, the shit you think of sometimes... I don't know about you, girl."

"Well, check and see. It'll prove something to you, either way."

"Darlene... I've heard of girls popping their own cherries from gymnastics and tumbling and stuff. It won't prove anything."

"Well, check it, tonight. Let me know."

Charity wasn't sure if she wanted to keep Darlene updated on the condition of her hymen. That seemed kind of personal. Still... wouldn't it be freaky if I checked, and it was gone? she thought.


It was freaky. It was damn freaky. Charity racked her brain to think of when last she'd played around with herself and felt her hymen. Less than a week... she couldn't think of any strenuous exercise she'd done, since then. Hell, none of that shit in a year, at least. And now, as demonstrated by her index and middle fingers, her hymen was gone. Damn, damn. Damn peculiar. Could it have just happened on it's own, with nothing precipitating it? Spontaneous remission of the hymen or something? Could it be called that? This begged for googling. She lay in her bed, idly sniffing her middle finger. I smell good, she thought, just like that lady the other night. I wish I could have that dream again. That girl was hot. Her finger strayed back down to her crotch. Just to make sure, she plunged them in again. No problem. She began to wiggle and worry yet another finger in. Oh, that felt pretty good... not as good as the captain had felt, but pretty damn good.


Darlene's eyes got wider and wider as Charity told her that she was no longer a virgin. They just sat, finally, in perplexed silence.

"You know for sure it's gone... you looked?" said Darlene. Charity squirmed.

"I felt. And yes, I know for sure. It's gone. And it was there, a week ago."

"Charity," Darlene finally said. Charity looked at her. The other girl looked positively spaced out, whacked. Like she'd just seen a ghost or something.

"Charity. I'm working on a theory. It's just a theory, mind you. But it might explain what's happening to you. I think that when you sleep your spirit or soul or whatever goes to alternate universes, and actually does these things. I mean, that explains the scars and shit, right? And your cherry being popped?"

Charity shook her head. She was no rocket surgeon, but she saw holes all in that idea.

"Darlene. If it's just my soul, then scars wouldn't show up on my body. Or my cherry wouldn't have been popped. It's just coincidence, that's all. That's all it can be. If your theory is right, my body would have to go, too, right?"

"Well, like I said, it's just a theory," said Darlene defensively. "There are always details to work out."


"Ogg!" Thum shouted. She was angry. Little Thum-Thum was hungry. Ogg had brought no meat home the day before. Now, her daughter was hungry.

"Ogg! Go hunt!" she shouted. He snorted and finally dragged himself up from beside the fire. She thought about kicking him, but she knew he kicked back. She'd only made that mistake once.

Ogg finally found his club and stumbled out the mouth of the cave. That was good. Ogg would kill something, and they could eat. She might try that new thing again of putting the meat in the fire for a while. All the others were doing it, now. It took a little longer, but it tasted good.

Thum-Thum was crying again. Thum knew that her tummy hurt. She rocked the little girl, holding her and humming to her. She finally went to the back of the cave, using a burning stick for light, and found some cave crickets. She fed them to the little girl, hoping it would shut her up for a while. It seemed to.

She sat in the mouth of the cave, content to let the sun heat her body. Her furs did not smell good, she thought, sniffing herself. We will have to go to the river, and soak them for a while. Sometimes that helped. She scratched under her arms, and between her legs. Stupid fleas. She picked at them for a while, and managed to get a few of them. She idly cracked them between her teeth, and spit them out.

Finally, after the fire in the sky had almost touched the mountains, Ogg returned. And happiness! He brought with him a large dead bassalope. Thum helped him skin the animal, and cut up the meat with sharp pieces of flint. She built up the fire, and tossed some of the meat into it. She hummed and petted Thum-Thum. The meat smelled good as it sizzled on the coals.

"Ogg mighty hunter!" Ogg shouted. Oh, fissle, she thought, which was a caveman swear word. Do we have to do this every time? Couldn't he just bring the shit home, I mean, isn't that his job in the first place? Is that too much to ask?

Ogg beat on his chest, and coughed slightly. "Ogg bring back food! Ogg mighty hunter! Bassalope run, but Ogg faster! Ogg kill, with mighty club!"

"Yes, Ogg, mighty hunter," she sighed, wanting to get it over with. Wearily she sighed. She knew what was next.

"Thum!" Ogg yelled at her. "Come! Ogg want zug-zug!"

She sighed again. She climbed to her feet and approached him. She turned and presented her butt to him, pulling her furs up. She bent over, the way he liked it.

"Ogg best zug-zug on whole mountain! Thum love Ogg zug-zug! Say it! Thum love Ogg zug-zug!"

"Yes!" she said, trying to sound enthusiastic. "Thum love Ogg zug-zug!"

"Good. Is good." Ogg entered her. Zug-zug does feel good, thought Thum. And end is best part. He began to pound her, grasping the crease of her thighs with his rough hands. Ogg not so bad after all, Thum thought. And he does good zug-zug. Go for long time. Long time zug-zug good.

Little Thum-Thum filled her mouth with half-cooked bassalope meat. Parents whacky, she thought. Always wanting to do zug-zug. What big deal with that?


"Let me get this straight," said Don. "You dreamed you were a cave woman?"

"Yeah. Crazy huh?" said Charity.

"Yeah. Crazy, but cool."

"She's probably not telling you all of it," said Darlene. Charity shushed her, embarrassed already. She certainly was not telling him all of it.

"Oh really. Did somebody hit you on the head with a club and drag you off by the hair?" he said.

"No... but he did kill an animal and we ate it." She hadn't intended for this to be embarrassing.

"Well, you are lucky. Most of my dreams are stupid. Stupid or embarrassing," Don said.

"Really!" said Charity brightly, "you must tell them to me sometimes. Especially the embarrassing ones."

Don actually got embarrassed at that, so she figured they were wet dreams or something. She giggled, and he giggled back. Darlene felt left out, Dick hadn't showed today, for some reason. Charity wondered if she could tell Don the real dream, if Darlene left. If she'd have the nerve. That might get the ball rolling between them.


That night, Charity's parents told her something that sparked her interest. They were going on a cruise for their anniversary. She would be on her own for five days. The idea of that really appealed to her. She would be the master of her destiny, for five days. That would be cool, she decided. She wondered if she could have Don over to the house. If she was brave enough. Some privacy, she thought. Privacy, at last.


The air in the dungeon was thick and moist. It was almost hot down there. It smelled like sweat and piss. Elsa strode through the open doorway, her riding crop in her right hand. Three prisoners were on the walls tonight. Three to break, she thought. She approached the first man, making sure the manacles were locked securely around his hands and feet. The quislings weren't always as careful as she was. Yes, he was secure. She slashed her riding crop down on his bare buttocks, and was rewarded with a yelp of pain. Good. He was lively, she could tell. He would be... enjoyable, tonight. She pulled his groin from against the wall and peeked at him. Not a giant, she thought, but nominal. Nominal will do.

The second man was secure, too. She experimentally whipped him also, but got barely a jerk out of him. He looked pretty rung out. He probably wouldn't be much fun. She pulled his body out from the wall slightly to look at his organ. Hmmm, she thought. I bet your nickname in school was tiny. She went to the third man. He was a big motherfucker, she thought. A giant. She gave him a spank on the butt, and he jerked and glared at her. He looked nice and angry. Good. She bent slightly and peered through his legs. A giant nutsack, and hanging down even further in front of it, a giant schwanz... goodness. A true summer sausage. She would save this one for last.

"Elsa!" Shit. It was der Kommandant. She knew what was next. Every time he came hunting for her, she knew what was next. She felt nervous already. She felt like a little choirboy, about to confront the pope. Or a tiny sparrow, about to go into the chambers of a magnificent eagle.

"Else, der Fuhrer wishes your company tonight. He says to bring your special... appliance."

She nodded, and gave der Kommandant a salute. He saluted, winked, and left. She felt breathless and eager. der Fuhrer, again. This was the third night this week. He must really like her. She left the dungeon in a hurry. She must return to her room and bathe for tonight. She must get ready.

Suddenly, it was later. She realized with a start that she was on her back on a couch and a man was standing before her. Something buzzed loudly, and she looked down. She was naked, and an electrical cord ran from the wall to her crotch. Something was deep inside her body, and it was vibrating like a angry hornet. Damn, she thought, that feels good. Shit. She felt another orgasm starting. She'd had one already? She missed that part. Well, this one was shaping up nicely. Her calves almost cramped, she was tensing up so hard.

She looked into the face of the man watching her. His intense eyes bored into her vagina, watching the ivory penis enter and exit her body, over and over. And the vibration! Damn, that felt good. She pulled it out for a moment, and pressed it against her clit. God that felt good. Der Fuhrer snickered, and she smiled. She knew he loved this shit, for some reason.

"Elsa," he spoke, and she gave his her complete attention.

"Yes, mein Fuhrer," she said.

"You must..." he paused. She knew it was hard for him to say. "You must... put that in my body. You must fuck me with it... like you do yourself."

Not exactly, she thought. Different hole. But she was glad to obey. Choirboy, and pope? Hell, more like choirboy and God.


Oh god, thought Charity, laying in bed. Her stomach was in turmoil. She'd hoped for a good one tonight. Not jamming a vibrator up some old man's ass. Jeezus. What a goofy fucking mustache, she thought. The dream had started well. She had felt powerful, alive... she'd even kind of enjoyed whipping those men who were tied up. She could have stood some more of that. But the dream went to shit real quick. Literally. Fuck. Here's another one that's not for public consumption, she thought.


That night, she talked to Don on the phone, and told him about her parents leaving for almost a week. She mentioned that he could come over and watch TV and he agreed, that would be cool. She had intended on bringing him over earlier, but now she didn't want to, she didn't want her parents to get cold feet about leaving her by herself. She didn't want them to know that she had a kinda boyfriend, not now.

Don asked about what she'd dreamed last night, and she told him a heavily edited version of the dungeon dream, with no sex at all and especially no butt-fucking. He giggled about it, and she did too.


The week passed slowly, and the day finally arrived. Her parents drove away, for the airport. They had left a nice long list of do's and dont's for her, which she scanned perfunctorily. It said nothing about having boys over. Good, she thought. It did say no wild parties, with a smiley-face after. That was no problem. She hadn't planned on a wild one. Just a little two-person party.


Darlene and Charity met the boys at McDerp's that night, and enjoyed some tasty cheap junk food. They walked out into the fall evening air and wondered what to do.

"Let's go to my house," said Charity. "My folks are gone. We can just hang out and watch the big-screen."

They walked the short route to her house and she let them all in. She turned on the TV and they all sat, looking thought the channels. Nothing was interesting, but so what, in a while they were all talking and giggling about school and shit.

Darlene asked to use her computer and her and Dick disappeared upstairs. Don scooted over on the couch, right next to her. He put his arm around her, and hugged her. She turned her face to his. They were just inches apart. She could feel his breath on her face. She wished she could go brush her teeth. All part of the deal, she thought.

She was surprised that he was brave enough to kiss her when he finally did but she loved it. She melted against him, and they kissed again. And again. She lost count. She wiggled her tongue against his, and giggled. This was almost as fun as one of her dreams, she thought.

"Charity," Donald said, in one of the rare moments when their lips weren't locked together. "I love you. I love you, I love you. Will you be my girlfriend?"

"Of course," she replied, and they kissed again. She slid against him further, and felt him lean over onto the couch. Before long they were laying side by side, barely fitting on the couch. His arms were around her, and... my god, she thought... he's touching my butt. Her titty nipples were so hard they hurt. Shit, she thought, go for broke.

"Don," she whispered in his ear, trying to sound seductive. "You may touch me wherever you choose."

It still took him a good ten minutes to get to her boobs. But, at last she was happy, as he squeezed and massaged them. And, damn... it felt good... as good as it had felt when that damn pirate squeezed them. She wondered what Darlene and Dick were doing, if they were just looking shit up on the computer or doing something a little more entertaining. She hoped so.

Don seemed happy with her boobs. He finally slid his hands beneath her shirt and the feeling of his bare skin against hers electrified her. His hands felt hot on her. He squeezed her bare nipples and she squirmed with pleasure. He finally began fumbling behind her and got her bra unsnapped. There, she thought, that's much better. It felt good to get out of that boobcage anyway. He rubbed and scratched the underneath side of her breasts and she fell in love all over again. Damn, that feels good.

Thirty minutes of this was not enough, she thought, but she wanted to see some progression. She didn't want it to get stale.

"Don," she whispered again. He seemed like he had a good handle on this making out thing to her, he just needed a little guidance every now and then. "Don, touch me... down there... please..."

Yes. Guidance, and encouragement. She felt his trembling hand slide down her belly, past her belly button and into her jeans. She made a wordless little cry, and unsnapped and unzipped her jeans. There. Get on with it, she thought.

She wondered if he would be surprised that she shaved. She had seen, from the showers at school, that a lot of girls shaved, and she'd started, a year or two ago. She liked the feel of it, especially right after she shaved. It felt so soft and so goddam sexy... this will be very interesting she thought.

Freed from the constriction of her jeans, his hand plunged further and further into her pants. She felt his fingers, at last, on her holy of holies. Her private of privates. And damn, did it every feel good. Good and sexy. He rubbed his finger down her pussy crack, and she could feel her juices already smearing beneath him. She hesitantly reached her hand over, and positioned it above his zipper.

"Allow me," he said, politely, and unsnapped and unzipped his pants. She felt the waistband of his underwear, and slid her hand beneath it. Almost immediately, she ran into something. Something hard. Hard, and fleshy. Of course he's got an erection, she thought. He's got his hands in a girl's pants. Mine.

He was rubbing her clit, at that moment, sending waves of pleasure washing down her body. Something about clits, she thought, just something about them. Damn. She remembered sucking that woman's giant clit in her space dream. Damn, she thought, I wish mine was that big. That was sexier than hell.

She finally got her hand around the shaft of Don's cock. She rubbed it a bit and then grasped it tighter and moved it up and down. He sighed, and moaned. She knew it felt good. She finally pulled his underwear down and pulled it beneath his balls. His cock stood up, in all its glory. She stopped kissing him for a moment and looked at it. It looked cool. It looked much like what she's seen in her dreams. It wasn't as big as the captains but still it was a nice one. She grabbed it by the shaft again and began to pump.

"Stick your finger in me," she whispered, and Don complied, pressing his index finger into her body. "In and out," she clarified, and he began a kind of sawing motion. That felt good, and when his thumb bumped her clit every now and then, all the better.

Shit, she thought, this is as good as one of my dreams. She was content to just lay here, jacking him off, and let him finger-fuck her. She wondered again what Darlene and Dick were doing. Damn, they'd been gone a long time, but she hoped they stayed gone a while longer.


An hour later, when Darlene and Dick finally stumbled down the stairs, Charity and Don were sitting primly on the couch, watching the Simpsons. Charity had gotten a dishtowel from the kitchen, and cleaned most of Don's cum from her legs and the couch. He'd seemed as surprised as she'd been when he came and she wondered why. Surely he jacked off, didn't all boys do that? Well, whatever. She was sure that the room still smelled like semen and she giggled softly to herself wondering what Darlene would think. If Darlene knew that's what it was, that is.


Don and Dick both seemed kind of spaced and the rest of the evening passed fairly quickly. They left at ten, and finally the girls were alone. Eagerly they shared their adventures, to find them surprisingly similar, with the exception that Dick hadn't ejaculated. Charity was sure the boys shared their stories on the way home, and she was glad she'd given him that part to tell about, at least. She'd half-way thought about offering to put it in her mouth, but maybe that was moving a bit too quickly. There would surely be a next time, she thought.

She walked home with Darlene, and spent the night with the girl. They cuddled in Darlene's bed, and giggled most of the night, going over the evening again and again.


She was beneath the ocean. The sunlight flickered and flashed far above her. She was rising, her breath almost gone. She felt slightly faint. She rose quickly though and she knew she'd make it. She burst through into open air, and splashed back down. She sucked a ragged breath in, glorying in the feel of it. Pure, clean sea air. She looked around and saw the boat. She paddled up to it, spit something from her mouth into her hand and handed it up to the man waiting on the deck above. He took it and gazed at it, holding it up. It looked like a pearl to her. She wondered why she hadn't known that before. The man grunted and nodded his head. He passed her a jug and she took a drink of some harsh, aromatic liquid. It burned her throat but it tasted good. She nodded her thanks and rested for a moment, holding onto the side of the boat. The man talked to her in a sing-song language she didn't understand, and she even answered in the same tongue. She had no idea what she'd said. It didn't matter to her for some reason. She took a few deep breaths, sucking air into her lungs until she felt dizzy, and dove down into the water.

She was topless, she'd noticed. Another girl had been approaching the boat, and she was topless too, her fat nipples hard in the cool water. It felt good to be topless, she decided. She loved this job. And the sea was so beautiful. It was a different world, beneath the waves. Fish slowly swam by. Octopuses played. Crabs scuttled along the ocean floor. Huge plants waved slowly in the gentle current. She wished she could be a fish, and live here, beneath the waves.

She swam along, just a few feet from the bottom. Suddenly, she saw it. A huge, huge mollusk. Two feet across, probably. Half open, the creature fed as the ocean currents washed nutrients into its shell. And... to her surprise, there was the single most desirable pearl in the universe, just a foot away.

Desirable mainly because of it's size. It was huge. Unbelievably huge. This was what she'd waited her whole life for, she thought. This will make me rich. This is one I will not turn in. She was naked almost, except for a small tight loincloth, pulled up between her legs. As big as this pearl was, if she hid it in her mouth, she could not even talk. But she did have one hiding place, where it would never be found. Her sweet little cunt. She would press it up into her cunt, and swim up to the surface. No one would ever know. When the white pearl merchants came to town she would take her brother with her for protection and go deal with them. They would pay handsomely for this pearl.

She looked around in the murky water, pleased to see that she was alone. None of the other girls were within sight. She felt a twinge from her lungs, and knew that she had less than a minute left. She needed to snatch the pearl and rise.

She slowly moved her hand to the mouth of the clamshell, careful not to disturb the currents too much. The mussel was blind, but it had a very well developed sense of touch, of the water flowing across it. She wondered if the creature already knew she was there.

She knew the second she touched the pearl, the mollusk would slam shut. She didn't want to die beneath the sea, her hand trapped in a clamshell. An idea struck her, and she looked hurriedly around, finally swimming down and grasping a large rock that had been sitting on the sea floor. She placed the rock at the mouth of the clamshell, and before she had even started to go for the pearl, the mollusk had closed on it. Ha ha, she thought, I am more clever than a clam. She picked the pearl, holding it's magnificence in her small hand. It felt like money, to her. It gleamed its soft luster at her. This was her lucky day.

She stopped halfway to the surface and reached beneath her loincloth. She pressed the pearl into her body, deep inside herself. It slid into her body easily and it felt good. Not as good as some things that she'd had put in there... but it felt good. She rearranged her loincloth and continued on up to the surface.

She climbed into the boat. The day was pretty much over. The other girls were coming in, too. She shook her head sadly at the overseer. Nothing, this time. So sorry. He glared at her for a moment and then turned the key to the engine. The day's accumulation of gas fumes that had filled the entire inside of the boat exploded in a thunderous fireball. There were no survivors.


Charity awoke, gasping for breath, the darkness claustrophobic and cloying. She'd had dreams before that she'd died in, and they were always like this. Her heart was pounding and her head hurt. She fumbled for the lamp beside her bed, and finally got it turned on. That helped a little, her room reassured her. It was only a dream, she told herself, only a dream.

School that day passed uneventfully. At lunch she'd told Darlene her dream, in what had become a daily ritual for them. Darlene seemed disappointed that there wasn't any sex in it and that amused Charity. Darlene seemed well on her way to becoming a highly charged sexual particle, Charity thought. Amazing what an evening of fondling a boy's hard dick will do. And not just any dick, Darlene was getting to wrap her hands around Big Dick's big dick.

She first noticed the strange feeling in one of her classes. It just felt like something was in there. In her pussy, of all places. I wonder if it's a pearl, she thought, laughing to herself. She finally excused herself from class and made her way to the girl's bathroom. She locked herself in a stall, pulled down her jeans and panties, and prepared to scratch the itch.

To her utter and complete shock, when she slid her finger inside herself, she hit something. Something hard. Something hard was in her pussy, her cunt. Something was up inside her cunt. She gasped for breath, her heart in her throat. What the fuck was this? she thought. She scrabbled on it, almost pushing it deeper, wondering how to get it out. There seemed to be no way. She finally pulled her jeans back up, and made the short walk to the cafeteria. A worker gave her a spoon with the promise that she return it when her "class project" was completed. I'm not sure you'd want it back if you knew what I was going to do with it, she thought.

Back in the bathroom she bent the spoon slightly and made short work of the problem. She sat on the toilet, tears streaming from her eyes, and stared at the giant pearl in her hand. What is happening, she thought? What is happening to me? How did this get up there? There was no explaining this one, short of the dream. A scratch on her arm was one thing, but a pearl in her pussy? She felt like her life was completely out of control. What is going to happen next? she thought. Anything can happen to me, if this can.

It occurred to her that although the pearl had passed from dream to wakefulness, her death in the explosion had not. But that was somebody else, she thought. I kind of understand that. But how did the pearl get transferred from her body to mine? There was no explanation for something this profound. She finally stuck the pearl in her pocket, and slowly walked back to class.

After school was over, she had no idea how to tell Darlene what had happened, other than just blurt it out. She was still in shock. Finally, she just yanked the pearl out of her pocket.

"Come on, we're going to the jeweler's." she told Darlene. Darlene looked at her, puzzled, but followed dutifully. The jewelry store was downtown, and as they walked Charity let the whole story spill out. Darlene's eyes got wider and wider.

"I told you. I tried to tell you," Darlene finally said, seeming to be in shock also. Charity was still in shock. Parts of her brain still seemed to be frozen. They stopped, in the middle of the sidewalk, and Charity let Darlene examine the pearl. Charity was almost afraid to turn loose of it, and she was relieved when Darlene handed it back. She was doubly relieved that Darlene had believed her about where it had been and hadn't sniffed it.

"And that is real?" Darlene finally asked.

"Shit, Darlene, why do you think we're going to the jeweler's? I have no idea."

The man at the store was helpful. Helpful, and interested in her made-up-on-the-spot story of finding the pearl in her late grandmother's possessions. He took it reverently and subjected it several test, bouncing it in his hand to determine it's weight, and then examining it with a loupe. He finally motioned the girls to follow him and they went in the back of the store where he used a microscope on it. He finally sat back and shook his head.

"Ladies." He rose and took the pearl and gave it back to Charity. They returned to the retail area. "As much as I want to say it's not, I believe that is a real pearl. I have never, in all my career as a jeweler, though, seen one this large. Large ones do exist, of course, but size isn't all there is to it. Luster is important, and this pearl has a very good luster. And of course, this is a natural pearl, not a seeded one. Seeded ones are rarely large. Guard that with your life, girl. My advice to you is go to New York City and have it professionally appraised. In any case, you are holding a fortune in your hands. I would love to buy it from you, but I couldn't even begin to give you what it's worth."

After some more talk of this variety she thanked the man and they departed the store. Deep in thought, they walked back to Charity's house. She carefully placed the pearl in her jewelry box.

"Well. What now?" she said, turning to Darlene.

"I dunno. Charity, I'm sorry, but I'm in over my head. I don't know what to tell you."

"S'okay. Thanks for being there."


Charity spent the rest of the evening kind of in a daze. She wished her parents were home, though she was not sure why. She would never have the nerve to tell them the whole story, like she had Darlene.

Don called that evening, and they talked for what seemed like hours. He could tell she was distracted, though, and asked her several times what was wrong.

"Don," she finally said. "I just been through a lot today, and had a shock. I'll be okay. Thanks for being concerned, though."

They made plans to meet the next day after school. She was planning to somehow politely leave Darlene out of the scene this time. Time for a little private time.


As a gladiator, she had her pick of which temple to visit the night before a deathmatch. For some reason she chose Saturn. She wasn't very religious and didn't even have a favorite god, but Saturn had always appealed to her. Cronus. He ate his own children. She liked that, for some reason.

Her guards stopped at the doorway. She went on in, and made a perfunctory bow to the massive statue dominating the room. That was it for worship, she really didn't believe in the gods, anyway. She snooped around the alter a while, looking for something to eat or steal, but found nothing. She finally took a seat and let an hour of relaxation go by, before she exited the room and walked with her guards back to the Colosseum.

Everything blurred. She was standing on a pile of sand, looking down at a man in partial armor and holding a trident. Shit. She was fighting. Why did it go right into the middle of the fight? He came towards her, and she pointed her spear at him. Let him impale himself. Some fighters had done just that, to get it over with. This guy, though... he looked a little tougher than that. He was a giant, a good head taller than she was. Why did they match him with me? She wondered if the judges had decided it was time for her to die. But the crowd loved her so...

He feinted, and she parried. He was good but she realized from just that she was quicker than he was. Unless he was holding back and trying to fool her. She finally came down off her pile of dirt and they circled each other slowly. The dull roar of the crowd grew quieter and quieter in her ears as she concentrated on killing this man.

Why was she here again? Did women really fight, in ancient Rome? Ancient? What had she meant by thinking that? This was modern Rome, ruler of the known world, from Britain to Asia. But women? Fighting in the Colosseum? Had that really happened? Of course it happened, it was happening in front of her. She had some doubts, though, about the historical accuracy of her reality. She shook her head. What was happening to her? What was she thinking?

The man came at her, hard and fast. His trident barely caught on the chain mail of her sleeve, and that messed her aim up. Because of that he lived. Her spear went into his underarm instead of his throat. He danced away, roaring in pain, spewing blood into the sand. She knew now she just needed to keep him occupied for a while and let him bleed out.

The end was sad, after such a good beginning. He stumbled and she poked him again, hard, in the bare upper thigh. He could barely move after that and the throat stab she'd intended much earlier finally finished him off. She raised both hands high, holding her spear above her head and let the roar of the crowd carry her away. The rest of the day was just a blur, literally.

She came too that night, back in her room. She had just finished a feast, a victory dinner. All this luxury, she thought, and there's still a lock on my door. The door opened at that moment and a young boy was shoved rudely inside. Dessert has arrived, she thought.

The slave boy was young, maybe too young. She rose from her chair slowly, languidly, like a cat. He gazed at her with fearful eyes. Oh honey, she thought, don't be scared of me. I don't want much from you... just your love for a few hours...

She held out her hand and he hesitantly took it. She guided him to her bed and seated him on the side. She sat beside him. Within a few minutes she was holding him, feeling his heart beating like a frightened rabbit. Surely he's still a virgin, she thought, if he's still this scared. She looked down at his legs, and hers. His were strong, muscular, but thin and pale. Her legs were thick and strong, scarred here and there, tanned from her hours on the practice field, but still attractive. She knew she was attractive. The other fighters still yelled and hooted at her when she went to the practice field. She knew a lot of them would pay handsomely to trade places with this scared little boy. But she had no interest in them.

She lay back and pulled him over on top of her. She whispered to him, trying to calm him. He finally seemed to get over his fear and she felt him begin to respond to her. She kissed him at last, and it was sweet. This will be fun, she thought. This one will be enjoyable.


"Some kind of Roman gladiator shit," Charity said to Darlene. Darlene had just asked if Charity dreamed last night. Darlene laughed at her reply.

"Swords and sandals?" she said, and Charity laughed.

"Not quite. Spears and bare feet. And giant statues." They both giggled.

"You were a guy?" Darlene asked. Charity shook her head.

"No, I was a girl. A girl gladiator."

"Darlin'. There might be a problem, there. I don't think there were girl gladiators in ancient Rome."

"I don't either. And I even thought that in the dream. But, that's the way it was."

"Well, who knows."


"So, did you get to make out in it?"

"Yes, with a slave boy..."

"Did you... do it?" Darlene asked, looking around to make sure no one else in the lunch room was listening.

"Yes..." Charity said, and giggled some more. Darlene giggled too. Charity knew by now Darlene liked hearing this shit. "And he had enormous... guy parts." He hadn't really, but she knew Darlene wanted to hear details like that.

"So... after that pearl... and your cherry being popped... you think you really did it with him?"

"Oh, Darlene, I have no idea... it did seem pretty real... I just don't know, I don't know what's dream and what's reality, any more."

"Did you... did you... cum?"

Charity was silent for a moment. Finally she nodded her head. Why not. "Yeah... like a fucking volcano..." she giggled. That part of the dream had actually been kind of fuzzy, but she'd woken up with that just-fucked feeling and realized she'd probably had a nice orgasm, at least.

The bell rang, and they stood. "Shit, girl," said Darlene. "You are one lucky sumbitch."


That night, she cleaned the house a little, well actually she just picked shit up. Promptly, at 4:30 the doorbell rang, and she ushered Donald into the house. He was kind of giggly, as was she, and she wondered if he knew that tonight might be... the night. She'd given a lot of thought to the subject, and could see no reason why not. She was an adult, well, close, and she was ready to do adult things. She was no longer a virgin through no fault of her own, so why not enjoy it a little? She knew the basics, from her dreams, actually she knew quite a bit more than the basics, although she did question the accuracy of some of the events in her dreams. If the dreams were just simply coming out of her head, then her dreams shouldn't know any more than she did. If they were being influenced by some outside agency, now, that was different. She just hoped that what she thought she knew was accurate. Like on how to give BJ's, for instance. Well, she might find that shit out tonight.

They sat and watched TV for a while and ended up wrestling around on the couch like they had the other night. Don finally pulled his cock out of his pants, and Charity grabbed it and pumped, after cautioning him against cumming. She didn't want to waste it. She had bigger plans.

"This is our fifth date," Don announced, and Charity giggled.

"Does this count as a date?" she asked, and he nodded. Their lips met again. They just stayed glued together for a while, his hands on her breasts, beneath her bra. She finally pulled away and yanked her shirt and bra off.

"There," she said. She unzipped her pants and pulled them off, too. She stood before him in just a pair of panties. Well, what the fuck, she thought, and dropped them, too. She was naked. Damn, she thought, it feels good to be naked.

"Come on, slowpoke," she finally said, and he got the idea. He took a little more time, and seemed nervous.

"Yes, my parents are a thousand miles away on a ship somewhere," she said, wondering if that was part of his problem. He seemed a little relieved after that. Soon he was naked to.

"Oh," said Charity, staring at his hard dick. "Are you glad to see me?"

"Oh, hell yeah," he said, and they lay back on the couch. He held her, and it felt good. She could feel his stiff cock poking into her groin. That felt good, too. She reached down every now and then and gave it a rub.

"Charity," Don whispered into her ear. "I brought some rubbers, just in case,"

"Good," she said, and they locked lips again. He lay back further, and she crawled on top of him. His cock was rubbing right in her pussy, now. She rubbed against him, feeling it push into her pussy lips. Damn, it could go right in, right now, she thought.

"Don," she said. "Don't be shocked. I'm going to do something to you that I've only ever done in a dream." He giggled. He was getting the idea that she left parts out when she told her dreams. He'd suspected stuff like this went on. He was right.

She slid down his body until his cock was in her face. Oh, she thought, that is cool. She tentatively licked it on the cap. Oddly, it didn't have any taste there. She finally put the whole thing in her mouth, and sucked it down her throat. Don sighed in pleasure. She ran it in and out, in and out, sucking hard. She could tell he was enjoying it. She was enjoying it, too.

He held her head in his hands, and gently rubbed her. This is just too cool, she thought, wait until I tell Darlene. I put a guy's weenier in my mouth. I sucked a guy off. She sucked harder, feeling the cap expand against her tongue. It was hard, damn it was hard. She ran her tongue down the bottom of it, feeling little ridges of skin here and there, loving the feeling of it in her mouth. This is why Hidden Brook liked it, she thought. Because it's fun. Fun, and cool.

Don finally made her stop, apologizing, saying that she turned him on so much he was going to cum if she didn't stop. She pretended to pout.

"Charity..." Don said, almost shyly. She raised her eyebrows. "Charity... dearest... can I taste you?"

Oh, hell yeah. She sat on he couch and spread her legs. He dropped to his knees, and crawled inbetween her them. Almost immediately she felt his tongue on her clit. Ah, she thought, bullseye. Damn, that felt good. She had always loved the idea of getting her pussy eaten out, and she loved the dreams where it happened. This was better than a dream even. This is the real thing, she told herself. This is really happening. He licked down the slit of her pussy, and licked her asshole, as best he could. She pushed her butt up and spread her legs further, so he could get at it better. That feels cool, she thought. She was glad she'd showered before he came over. She knew she tasted good, down there, she'd rubbed and sniffed herself. She knew she smelled sexy.

The minutes raced by. She had no idea how long she let Donald eat her pussy, but she did cum twice, at least. Good ones, she almost squished his head with her legs. She felt happy, and basked in the afterglow of completely fine orgasms.

He finally crawled back up her body, stopping to kiss her tits, and they kissed again. Damn, she thought, I do taste good. She realized how much she liked the taste of pussy. I'd do it, she thought, if I had a girl available. I'd damn well fucking do it. She wondered what Darlene would say if she asked her to trade pussy licks. She giggled at that one.

"Don, come on." she said, "let's go to my room."

They climbed the stairs, and entered her bedroom. She locked the door, just in case, feeling foolish. Better safe than sorry, though.

Don pulled a small square package out of his pocket, and she watched with interest as he rolled the rubber on his hard cock.

"Don, honestly. You did that pretty good. Have you put one on before?" she asked, teasing him.

"I've put one on before, but I've never done it... with a girl." he said.

"Have you done it with a guy, then?" she asked innocently.

He grabbed her around the waist and wrestled her down onto the bed. "Of course not, you silly..." she thought he was going to say more, like call her a slut or a bitch, but he wasn't that brave. She giggled some more.

She wiggled around on the bed and got comfortable. He slowly moved over and lay on top of her. She could feel his hard prick poking her in the crease of her thigh.

"Don," she breathed, kissing him and pulling away. "Don... make love to me..."


The next day she traded stories with Darlene. As she figured, she had much more to tell. Donald and Charity were moving along at a much faster pace than Darlene and Dick. Anyway, she related the whole process to Darlene, amidst many giggles. Darlene was interested, but still seemed a little unsure if she wanted to try it.

"Did you... have an orgasm?" she asked Charity.

"Hell yeah. That's the point, isn't it?"

"Yes, but it doesn't always happen, from what I understand."

"Shit. I didn't know that. I thought it kinda had to happen."

"Well, if he cums first, and his weenie goes down..."

"I guess. Yes, I suppose that could happen. But Don was very considerate, and made sure that I came first, before he did."

"Did you look at it? Did you smell it?"

"No, he took it off and tied it in a knot. Sorry."

"So'kay. Just wondered."

"I did have it in my mouth, but that was before he came."

"You should let him cum in your mouth once. Just to see what it tastes like."

"Yes, I'll put that on my to-do list." said Charity, and they both giggled some more.


She flew. She put her head down and flew like her life depended on it. She had fucked up. She had fucked up bad. She had let her mouth get her in trouble again. The fairymiester was looking for her now. She was sure she'd at least get her legs spanked with a switch when he caught her. Shit. On she flew, deeper into the woods. She'd never been in this area before... or at least, it didn't look familiar. The trees grew taller and taller, until she couldn't see the tops of them through the lower cover. She finally lit on the ground and walked deeper into the woods. It was kind of spooky, she thought to herself.

She walked out into the grove before she realized what it was. Oh, shit! she thought, and backed up, peering around a tree. A half dozen hooded members were on their knees before an alter, and she heard a low mumbling. More people came out of the woods and joined them. The chanting grew louder and louder, as more people joined them.

You need to get the fuck out of here, she told herself, but she didn't. She wondered what was going on. That fairy curiosity, which had almost been the death of her in the past, was strong. What was going on here? Were they summoning someone... or something?

The grove was finally full. The chanting was loud, now. A large man, fully robed, his face hidden, entered the grove, and stood before the worshipers, his arms held high. She was aware of the ground shaking slightly, pounding, like some gigantic footsteps or something. Oh, shit! she thought, oh shit! But she was powerless to move.

The next being that strode into the clearing was a good eight feet tall, towering over the priest. His body was thick and muscular and glowed red. His face was leering, sneering... demonic. Huge yellow eyes peered from beneath a heavy brow. Fangs hung from his mouth, over his lower lips. Two gigantic horns protruded from his forehead, immense. He was naked, and his enormous phallus jutted from his groin, half erect already. Oh shit, thought Firefly, oh shit. This must be the Dark Lord himself. As long as she'd been around the woods, she'd never seen the Dark Lord. Few had, and lived to tell about it. She tried to turn and run but her feet were rooted to the ground.

The Dark One sensed her presence immediately. He gazed right at her, his eyes burning into her, and crooked his finger at her.

"Come here, little one," he said, in a rough guttural voice. Powerless to disobey, she walked towards him in a daze. She felt lightheaded, like she was about to pass out. A deeper part of her mind wondered if she'd live through this.

She walked around the back of the huge stone alter and stood before him. He was magnificent, she thought. And evil. Evil exuded from his very pores. She felt his darkness, from three feet away. She stared up at him, entranced, like a bird in front of a snake. She couldn't move unless he told her to.

And his... cock... She was used to fairy cocks, nice little things. This monster was massive, as big around as her neck. Christos. It must be two feet long, she thought. It was, like him, monsterous.

He leered down at her. Her personality was blasted from her mind, and she stood before him, pure, simple as a new-born. She was no longer afraid, there wasn't enough of her left to be afraid.

His huge arm swung down, and grasped her shoulder. He tossed her easily onto the rough stone of the altar on her belly. Her legs hung over the edge. She drew a ragged breath and her mind began to assert itself again now that she was out of the hypnotic gaze of his yellow eyes. She had a moment to wonder what was going to happen next, before it happened.

"Mmmm," his massive, deep voice said. "Fairy pussy. Nice."

Oh shit! she thought, tearing up. He's not going to put that thing in me... There's no way it'll fit... I'll die, I'll literally be split in two...

She felt something touch her, right on the outside of her cunt. Shit! He began to push harder, harder and deeper. Her pussy expanded and expanded until she thought she was going to burst apart. Tears squeezed out her eyes and her breath came in ragged gasps. My poor little pussy, she thought. It had been so small and tight. It would never be the same if she lived through this.

The Dark Lord pressed deeper and deeper into her body. She felt pain in places she didn't even know she had. She felt like she was literally splitting in two. She'd never dreamed something that large could fit inside her, or go that deep. This must be what mortals feel when they give birth, she thought. Oh shit. It just kept coming, bigger and bigger. She wondered at what point she'd just split in two and die.

He finally literally hit bottom, and she screamed in pain. He laughed softly, and pulled out, and pressed back in again. There had been a slight pleasure, but it was mostly pain.

The next ten minutes was a nightmare beyond her imagining. There were moments of pleasure, true, but it was mostly pain. He pounded her, often ramming into the bottom of her cervix, causing her acute agony. She was dizzy and felt faint. Her personality was almost gone again, and she just existed as a blob of pain with occasional quick arrows of pleasure shooting through her.

When the Dark Lord ejaculated she was almost pistoned off his massive cock. He finally staggered back a step or two, moaning in pleasure, and she felt his cock slide out of her tortured cunt. A few last squirts of satanic sperm sprayed over her body, burning wherever it touched her. He finally took a step forward and grabbed her and yanked her up from the alter.

"Run along, little one. I usually kill what I fuck, but what's the point, you don't have a soul. Run along."

She ran. She ran like her life depended on it, although... what he said... she guessed it didn't. She finally slowed to a walk, and made her way through the woods, in the direction she hoped her village was in.

What the fuck had that been all about? she thought. Why would the Dark Lord want to fuck a fairy? Mortals had way more life energy, although they didn't know it. Fairies were not much different than angels, simple beings with neither souls or consciences. She finally took a leaping step into the air, and flew. She was ready to be home, back in her hollow tree. And damn. Damn, her pussy hurt. She wondered if it would ever be the same again.


Charity awoke, alone in the house. Her heart was pounding and she was scared. She wished her parents were home. Goddam! she thought. Goddam! I just got fucked by the devil! Shit! She slowly sat up, feeling twinges of pain from between her legs. Oh, shit! she thought, making her way to the bathroom. Oh, shit.

She was shocked by the blood. Blood streaked down her legs from her vagina. She was crying again, and the tears made it hard to see. She tentatively pressed a finger into herself, almost relieved that her whole hand didn't just fall into it. She still felt tight, at least, as tight as she had the other night. Shit, though. His dick had been six inches in diameter, at least. Damn, she thought. How did it ever fit up there?

She finally got a washrag and washed the blood from her legs and pussy. She didn't feel that bad by then, although her heart still pounded in her chest. She looked in the mirror at herself, halfway expecting a 666 or upside-down star on her forehead. The devil fucked me, she thought, for the hundredth time, the fucking devil fucked me. Shit. What, if anything, does that mean? Does that even mean he exists? Is this just sympathy... sympathy pains, or something, when a dream affects me in the real world, like this? What the fuck is going on. What the fucking fuck is going on?

She finally went back to bed, and lay there, bemused. You'd think I'd actually be more upset than this, she thought. She wondered if she was still in shock. But, before she knew it, it was morning.


"I don't know if I can tell you," Charity said, when Darlene asked about her dream last night. They were walking to school. Charity's parents were due home today, and she was glad of it. The house seemed dark and empty without them, almost threatening.

"Tell me what you can."

"I was a fairy. I met the devil in a grove in some woods, and he fucked me. He was... enormous. I even bled, if you can believe it."

"Holy shit!" said Darlene, impressed.

"Unholy shit," said Charity.

"You mean you woke up bloody? Down there?"


"The devil actually fucked you?" said Darlene.

"Darlene, I have no idea. I don't think I'd be standing here, if the devil actually fucked me. I think that one was just a dream. And maybe my period is starting way early."

"Well, you thought the pearl one was just a dream, too," said Darlene. "Have you bled any more, since then?"

"No, but... Darlene... don't make this difficult..."

"Sorry. But you gotta admit, that pearl shit is pretty damn hard to explain. As is bleeding."

"Yeah, I know. Shit." They were finally at school, and went their separate ways. The day passed, uneventful, and Charity arrived home that night to find her parents home and unpacked. She hugged them both, getting funny looks from them.

"Hey," she said defensively, "I missed you guys." They both laughed.


Charity was almost afraid to go to sleep that night, after that last dream. The dreams seemed to be getting more and more intense. She wondered where there was to go from here. Hours after midnight she finally sighed and lay her head down, and surrendered.

She awoke that morning, refreshed and invigorated. She remembered splintered moments from dreams, but nothing concrete. Good, she thought. About time.

Her mom fixed her breakfast, and she went off to school. She got the pleasure of disappointing Darlene when she asked about her dream, and the day played out.


Charity didn't tell Donald about the devil one. It felt too private to her, or something. They walked around the park, and finally sat on a bench. He put his arm around her, and she snuggled up underneath it.

"All I think about is you, darling," he said, nuzzling her ear with his mouth. She giggled.

"Me too."

"All you think about is you?"

"No... you know what I mean..."

"I wish we could have some more... private time..."

"Yeah, me too," she said.

"Think we could rent a motel room?" he asked.

"Naw... gotta be twenty-one to do that," she said. "And have a credit card."

"Shit," he said. "What do they expect us to do?"

"Donald. They expect us not to fuck," Charity laughed at him. He shook his head.

"Well," he finally said, "There's always my treehouse."


Finally, two days later, there came an evening when both his parents were out of the house. Don tried to get her interested in just doing it in his room, but she felt like that was tempting fate just a little too much. It wouldn't be as nearly as obvious if they were in the tree house.

The tree house was rickety, and kind of wobbly. But at least it was fairly private, unless somebody climbed the ladder. We'll hope, she thought.

They killed twenty minutes kissing and necking, until Don finally rolled a rubber and his cock with practiced ease. Charity giggled, thinking of him sitting alone in his bedroom and practicing for the time when it became necessary.

Charity wished she were on birth contro but she was too nervous to talk to her mother about it. She remembered something from school about getting on it without your parents knowing. Have to ask somebody about that, she thought.

There was an old couch cushion in the treehouse. Don finally lay down against it, and she crawled on top of him, rubbing her pussy with his hard cock. This was going to be fun, she thought. It was. He pressed deeper and deeper into her, and she felt full of him. Not as full as when she'd fucked the devil, but reasonably full. It felt good. She sighed and moaned, and sank onto his cock.

Ten minutes later she came, good and hard. He still pumped away, and she hoped for a second one, like she had when that pirate captain licked her. Somehow they rolled over, and now Don was on top of her, pumping away. She relaxed, and let her body carry her away. Again.


"Yes, Darlene, we fucked in his tree house," Charity clarified, and Darlene giggled.

"Damn, girl, you gettin' good at this."

"Yeah... I just don't wanna get caught, though..."

"Caught, or pregnant..."

"Darlene... I'm worried about something..."


"I can't control what happens in my dreams. And we see that my dreams seem to occasionally be true in the real world as well as the dream world... the pearl, you know... and the blood..." The pearl still sat in her jewelry box, at home. She checked every day to make sure it was still there. She now regarded it as her college fund.


"Darlene. What if I get pregnant, in a dream? Will I still be pregnant when I wake up?"

"Oh, shit. Oh holy fucking shit. You need to get on birth control, girl. Right now. Today."

"I can't! My parents would freak, because that would mean I'm having or planning on having sex!"

"Shit, girl. We need to get you to a clinic and see if they'll give you pills without telling your parents. I've heard they'll do that. Shit fire."

"Shit, I know. This sucks."

"I'm sorry, girl. Hang on, I'll Google it."


The next day after school they walked downtown, to the Ophelia Farmer Medical Building. After a perfunctory exam, a doctor talked to Charity while Darlene waited in the waiting room. She finally emerged with a sore arm, and her head full of medical crap.

"Darlene," she said, on the way home. "You need to get that shot, too."

"I dunno..." said Darlene. "I'm not sure if Dick and I are gonna do it. I'm not sure if he's the one."

"Well, you should get it, just so you're ready, just in case."

"I suppose you're right," Darlene mused. "I just hope that fuckin' shot works in your dreams."

"It's all I can do, Darlene. It's an attempt to meet the problem head-on, at least."

"Yeah. Yeah."


The doctor wheeled, his expression maniacal. Shit! she thought, he looks like just Hitler in that other dream. Dream? What did that mean? Dream? This was as real as shit. Crumbling stone walls, machines everywhere, arcs of electricity, the works. This was truly a mad scientist laboratory, and there, in front of her, was the mad scientist. She tried to think who he reminded her of, really, other than Hitler. No one rose to mind. Shit. That she was having a doctor dream didn't surprise her, after all she'd just seen a doctor. What? What did that mean? A dream? What the hell was going on?

She was chained, by manacles, to a large wooden board, tilted up slightly. A machine pumped away beneath her, and pushed into her body. She felt the almost weary tiredness in her legs that meant she had already cum at least once. The machine plunged deep into her body, and pulled out almost all the way. When she stopped and thought about it, it felt almost better than the real thing. And it just went on and on. She wondered if you could die of exhaustion from cumming too much. It looked like she would find out. The scientist cackled again, tickling her nipples with a feather. Shit. That wasn't too high on her list of excitements, but she pretended and squirmed, just so he wouldn't go on to something worse. She felt the familiar tightness in her upper thighs again, and knew that she was going to cum, again.


"Naw, it was some stupid laboratory shit. Mad scientists and all that."

They were walking home from school. It was Friday evening. They'd made tentative plans to go to the movies with the boys. They were just going to Charity's house and wait for a phone call, then all four walk to the movies.

They sat around in Charity's room, idly talking and watching TV. Finally her phone, rang and it was Don. They boys were on their way to the movies, so they piled down the stairs and took off for downtown. All went well, well, actually the movie was boring, and they finally walked around downtown until way past dark. The weather was cool, but nice.

Charity wished there was somewhere they could go, and make out. She'd planned on some of that in the movie theater, but there were too many people behind them. It sucks, she thought, that I just can't bring him home. Life is going to be way cool when I finally get to move out.


There was nothing unusual about that night. She puttered around, told her parents good night, and went upstairs and slid into bed. She spent a few moments going over the events of the day, and soon enough sleep took her. She woke up from a nap, the steady pounding of the surf in her ears. She stretched, lazily, and yawned. She looked down, and was slightly surprised. She was just wearing bikini bottoms, no top. Her breasts were succulent, full and dark brown, with huge puffy nipples. Well why not, she thought. She gazed to her side, at the man laying next to her.

Don was older than she remembered, but it didn't surprise her any. He was muscular, hard looking, and fit and tan. Deep deep tan. He lay on a towel beside her, a straw hat half over his face. Palm trees led along the shoreline, marching into infinity in both directions.

"Don," she said. "What we got to eat, back at the hut?"

"Lot's of shit," he replied. "The fridge is still pretty full. You ready?"

"In a few," she said. He nodded.

She looked out over the calm ocean. Maybe after lunch they'd surf, or even fish. That would be fun. Life here was idyllic, and spontaneous. She loved it here. She had no idea how much longer they'd stay. As long as they wanted to. That was the beauty of dreams.

Dreams? This is a dream? she thought. So what if it was. She could live like this. She cupped a handful of sand and brought it close to her eyes. She could see individual grains of sand. Could things be this detailed, if it were a dream?

She rolled over on top of Don. He murmured, and reached up to squeeze her butt. She untied the knot to her bikini bottom, and stripped it off.

"Time to pay the piper!" she said, wrestling with the snap of his pants. He laughed and put the hat on his head, exposing his face. Damn, she thought, he looks good, this sun has done him good. She knew there was no worries about skin cancer and such silly shit in dreams. Good thing, that.

He lifted his butt and slid his trunks down his legs. He was already hard, and she felt him poking her in the crease of her leg.

"Well, get it in, big boy," she said, reaching down to help it a bit. His cock felt nice and fat in her hand. She didn't remember it being that big, but what the hell. This was turning out nicely.

She gasped for breath as his fatness slid into her. Jeezus, she thought. Damn, she felt as full as when the devil had fucked her. This was fun.

They established a rhythm, and she began to ride him like a rodeo horse. He reached up and grabbed her tits, squeezing and kneading them. How could this not be real, she thought, feeling his legs on her butt when she dropped down, and feeling his prick slide inside her cunt. Damn, that feels good. She forgot that shit, and just let him carry her away.



« Last Edit: January 10, 2017, 05:35:07 AM by Meatbot »

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