by T. G. Haynes
‘I don’t know what to say,’ she said, fingering the item of jewellery.
‘You don’t need to say anything. Just be careful,’ he added.
She looked at him, quizzically.
‘Even in your dreams there are those who won’t hesitate to take advantage of you,’ he told her.
Kate half thought about granting him a parting kiss, just to show that there were no hard feelings, only the memory of his hand tightening around her neck was not a pleasant one, so she took her leave of him with a simple goodbye and stepped through the blue door.
Kate seemed to take longer than usual to wake up. As her eyes opened and re-focussed on the real world she spotted a necklace lying next to her head on the pillow. Much to her amazement, it looked exactly like the one that Richard had presented to her in the dream. The other odd thing was, the two pads which should have been attached to her temples had fallen loose. Kate sat bolt upright and glanced around. It seemed like she was back in the dream chamber, but then hadn’t her sub-conscious played a similar trick on her earlier that very evening? Kate’s left hand closed around the necklace. It felt real enough to touch, but then most things felt so real in her dreams it was beginning to get hard for her to differentiate between what was fantasy and what was reality.
As Sylvia sighed and sat up, Kate stuffed the necklace into her pocket, keeping it hidden from her friend. Sylvia removed the pads from her temples.
Kate had to ask Sylvia, just to be sure. ‘We are awake now, aren’t we?’
Sylvia couldn’t resist playing devil’s advocate. ‘I don’t know, are we? You tell me.’
One of the doors opened and the churlish nurse who had tended to them when they first entered the dream chamber stepped through and began to prepare the room for the next visitors. That was it, Kate decided. She was definitely awake. There was no way that her sub-conscious would have bothered to conjure up Brenda.
As she and Sylvia left the dream centre they discussed their respective fantasies, Kate anxious to try and work out what the darker elements of hers meant. To her disappointment, Sylvia wasn’t much help. She was more interested in focussing upon the more ribald aspects of their dreams.
Good Cop, Bad Cop
On returning home, Kate found that she couldn’t get the complex dream scenario that she had experienced out of her head. It plagued her to such an extent she ended up going on-line in an attempt to try and figure out what her dream might have meant. Alas, she was unable to find anything pertinent, although one of the sites she viewed suggested that she harboured domination fantasies, but was scared to play them out to their conclusion. She assumed that this was why she had conjured up the door through which Dexter had escaped. Although this seemed a reasonable enough explanation for her dream, it still didn’t explain the presence of the necklace and why it should exist in both fantasy and reality. The only possible explanation she could think of was that maybe Richard had instructed Brenda to present it to her as a gift, that Brenda had placed the item on her pillow as she slept and that she had awoken very briefly at some point, seen the object, and incorporated it into her dream. Whilst this seemed slightly implausible, Kate couldn’t think of any obvious alternative.
As she settled down to sleep that night, she placed the necklace on her bedside cabinet. It was the last thing she remembered looking at before her weary eyelids closed and sleep consumed her.
Whether it was due to her trips to the centre or not, Kate couldn’t be sure. Whatever it was her dreams, in recent nights, had become much more vivid for some reason. She hadn’t been asleep long that night when she found herself in the middle of a fantasy scenario that she dreamt about so often she half wondered if it was trying to tell her that she should change career.
For some reason, ever since her late teens, Kate had often dreamt about being a police officer. More often than not the dream would begin with her donning the uniform. Pleasingly, her mind usually selected a different one. Sometimes she would be a traditional English police officer; on other occasions she would be a member of the gendarme. The German polizei uniform was a particular favourite, as were the uniforms which the Russian police wore. Her favourite uniform, though, was that of an American traffic cop (possibly because she watched more than her fair share of American cop shows on TV) and, much to her delight, that was the uniform her sub-conscious chose for her to slip into that night. The only disappointing part about the scenario was that the locker room in which she got changed was empty, which was a shame given that she was naked and she felt horny as hell.
Opening the door to her locker, Kate took out her sensible black bra and panties and put them on. She then donned her light blue shirt and dark blue trousers. Both snuggled tight against her skin. Kate wondered if it was due to the hours that she had been putting in at the gym recently. Rather pleasingly, the tightness of the clothes showed off her figure to good effect. After knotting her tie she put on her dark blue jacket, then her helmet. Last of all she slipped on a pair of police shades and black leather gloves. Ready for duty, she went down to the motorpool, jumped on a bike, started it up, then revved off into the city in search of criminals to thwart.
Cruising along a superhighway, Kate headed downtown. The road snaked and curved its way over a series of low hills. Every so often she would get glimpses of a bridge over to her right. When she crested the top of the next rise she pulled the bike to a halt, clambered off and admired the view. Recognising both the Golden Gate Bridge and Alcatraz, Kate realised that she was in San Francisco. She was sure that there must be plenty of bad guys to take care of there, so she got back on her bike and rode off into the heart of the city.
In one of those strange jumps that often occur in dreams, the next instant the scenario changed and Kate found herself in a corridor back at the station, being briefed by the chief of police about a suspect she was about to grill. Kate respectfully listened to her commanding officer, but was itching to get on with the job. When he finally finished she flung the door of the interview room open and marched in, purposefully, to let whoever was in there know who was boss. To her annoyance, the suspect had his back turned to her, so her little act was to no avail. Determined to make an impression on him, she slammed the door. Disappointingly, the only effect this had was to make the suspect sit upright in his chair. Still he refused to turn around. So, Kate thought to herself, it’s like that is it. Right, mister, you’ve had fair warning, now you’re going to find out who’s in charge.
Trying to take the suspect by surprise, Kate kicked his chair away. It was as if he had been waiting for her to do so, for he sprang up out of it just in time to prevent himself from falling over. Grabbing him in an armlock, she forced him against the far wall of the cell. ‘OK, wise guy, the time for games is over. I’m going to strip search you and if I hear one peep out of you, you’re for it.’
Obediently, the suspect put his hands against the wall and spread his legs. Though she hadn’t yet seen his face, there was something extremely familiar about the suspect she was searching. Pulling his arms loose from the wall, Kate removed his top and T-shirt. Though she suspected she was breaking every rule in the police protocol handbook, she didn’t care. Flinging the clothing onto the floor of the cell she ran her hands over her prisoner’s arms and legs, for no other reason than she wanted to.
Before taking matters any further she decided to remove a little clothing of her own. Damn thermostat must have been on the blink again, she guessed, so she shed her jacket, took off her tie and opened the top couple of buttons of her shirt. Her prisoner half turned his head towards her to see what she was up to. Kate grabbed his neck and prevented him from doing so.
‘You only move when I tell you to. Comprende?’
He nodded, but didn’t say anything. Reaching around his waist Kate undid the clasp on the buckle of his belt and removed it. Holding the belt tightly in her right hand she formed a loop and smack
ed the belt hard against the palm of her left hand. ‘This feels like expensive leather. How can someone like you afford an expensive leather belt, huh?’
He shrugged.
‘Oh, so it’s like that is it. Right, you asked for it.’
Becoming increasingly riled by his attitude, Kate whipped off his jeans, rather roughly. She then tore off his boxer shorts. Kate then frisked him again. She told herself that it was all part of the job, but, deep down, she knew full well that she was taking advantage of the situation and that the District Attorney would have her guts for garters if he got to hear about how she was treating the prisoner.
As she ran her hands down the suspect’s chest and stomach she knew that whatever else she did she mustn’t touch his cock; that would be a breach of protocol too far. She could allow herself to skirt dangerously close to it though, couldn’t she? She could permit her hands to run through his short pubic hair, to cup his balls, to squeeze them gently, to brush against the root of his cock... The instant her right hand came into contact with his prick she could tell that he was sporting an erection. No wonder he wasn’t objecting, Kate thought, the dirty devil was loving every minute of it. She wasn’t torturing him, she was playing right into his hands.
Angrily, she span him around. It was little wonder that he seemed familiar to her, for she found herself face to face with Dexter.
‘You,’ she said.
He grinned at her. ‘Little old me.’
‘What in God’s name brings you here?’
‘You tell me, Officer Phillips.’
Kate smarted. ‘How do you know my surname?’
‘Oh, you’d be surprised what I know.’
‘Would I now?’
‘Uh-huh.’
‘Try me,’ she said.
‘You’ll have to break me first.’
‘That sounds like a challenge.’
‘Take it whatever way you want,’ he drawled.
‘Don’t worry, I will.’
Grabbing hold of one of the plain hard backed wooden chairs, Kate instructed him to sit. He did so, surprisingly obediently. She then took hold of his arms, pulled them behind his back and fastened his wrists together with her handcuffs.
‘That really isn’t necessary, Officer Phillips.’
‘I’ll decide what’s necessary,’ she told him, as she fastened his ankles to the legs of the chair with her spare set of cuffs.
Standing up, Kate was extremely pleased to see that his hard on hadn’t abated in the slightest and that it was still raging fiercely. ‘A bad boy like you should know that we don’t allow erections in our cells.’
‘I’m sorry, Officer.’
‘Apologising isn’t good enough. We’re going to have to do something to tame that lethal weapon of yours.’
Whilst deliberating exactly what that something should be, Kate perched on Dexter’s knees and stared down at the problematic penis. Hoping that it might help her thought process, she idly took hold of his cock in her right hand and eased his foreskin back and forth over the collar, delighting in the way the end peeped out each time she stretched the foreskin down the shaft of his prick. Far from causing his erection to subside, her attentions only made his cock grow harder and pulse even more spectacularly.
Perhaps she needed to examine the naughty item much more closely. In order to do so she clambered off his knees, knelt down in front of him and peered at his cock. Close up it looked even more impressive than it had when he had stripped for her at the top of the Eiffel tower. For starters, perhaps she had underestimated its length, for it looked to be closer to seven inches long, possibly getting on for seven and a half inches. It was so wonderfully thick in terms of girth as well. Kate took an experimental measurement, wrapping her right thumb and forefinger around his prick. It jerked reflexively as she touched it. She shook her head and tutted.
‘You know what I’m going to have to do if you’re penis doesn’t start behaving?’ she said.
‘No, what’s that?’ he replied.
‘This.’
Without further ado she lowered her head and planted a kiss on the tip of his prick. Dexter’s cock twitched more violently than ever, so she kissed it again. As if it had a life of its own, it jerked away from her lips. In order to bring the disobedient prick under control, Kate decided that the only thing for it was to take the tip in her mouth. The only trouble was, now that his cock was firmly between her lips, it seemed the most natural thing in the world to suck it, so she did. Initially, she concentrated on the top inch or so. The more that she warmed to the task, the more she took in her mouth. It didn’t take long for her to swallow the top half of his shaft. Dexter responded by letting out little low moans of pleasure. Kate removed his cock from her mouth just long enough to tell him to be silent.
Rather than resume sucking him off, she grabbed hold of his prick with her left hand, then proceeded to lick up and down his shaft. Much to her delight, slivers of pre-come began to spill from the tip. Kate lapped at them hungrily. Growing steadily more turned on herself, she slipped her right hand into her trousers, tugged her panties aside and began to touch herself whilst she tended to him. Though no further groans of pleasure escaped his lips, she noted that his breathing had grown much heavier. She wondered how long she could keep playing with him before he came. Coating the shaft of his cock with a mixture of saliva and pre-come, Kate stood up. His eyes immediately fastened onto what she was doing. Her right hand was moving furiously as she rubbed the tip of her clit with her index finger. With her left hand, Kate undid the buckle of her belt, popped open the buttons on her trousers, then turned around and sat down in his lap.
Easing the cheeks of her bottom as far back into his lap as they would go, she then lowered her trousers a few inches, until the bare cheeks of her bum rubbed against his groin and throbbing cock. Lifting herself off him, momentarily, Kate reached behind her, took hold of his cock with her left hand, then, as she lowered herself back into his lap, she guided his prick inside her pussy. Due to her earlier attentions, it slipped in easily. It felt such a wonderfully snug fit. Flexing her hips back and forth she began to ride him. Dexter’s breathing grew even more sporadic.
‘Don’t you dare come until I tell you to,’ she ordered.
He mumbled something, which sounded like consent, so she rode up and down faster and faster until she was pumping his cock for all she was worth. Feeling incredibly turned on, it was no surprise that she soon built towards climax.
‘Now,’ she gasped as her bottom slapped back against his groin. The instant the word left her lips, Dexter groaned. His cock burst so spectacularly Kate could feel each individual spurt of spunk as it sprayed the inner walls of her pussy. She flopped back against him and allowed him to jerk away inside her until it was spent. Only then did she get up out of his lap and re-fasten her trousers.
‘So, Officer, did you get what you want?’ he asked.
‘Yes,’ she replied, rather curtly. ‘You’re free to go.’
He pulled at the cuffs that fastened his ankles to the chair, causing them to rattle against the wood. ‘I need you to set me free first, remember.’
‘How silly of me,’ she said, before making a great play of searching through her pockets for the keys. When she eventually found them she held them up in front of him and was about to unfasten the handcuffs only to change her mind at the last minute. ‘What’s it worth?’
Dexter raised a right eyebrow. ‘I don’t know, what did you have in mind?’
Casting the keys aside Kate reached for the buttons on her shirt. Keeping her gaze firmly fixed upon him she was about to undo the third button down on her top when recognition finally dawned on her.
‘It’s you, isn’t it?’ she said.
‘It certainly was the last time I checked in the mirror.’
‘No, I mean, you�
�re the guy I bumped into in the car park at Dream World.’
‘I knew you’d get there eventually,’ he said.
‘What are you doing haunting my dreams?’
‘I don’t know,’ he replied, calmness personified. ‘They’re your dreams, you tell me.’
As Kate tried to figure out the conundrum she became aware that she was still undoing the buttons on her top. The texture of the material had changed somehow though. It felt strange in her hands. Much softer and heavier than the light cotton which the police shirt was made of. Plus there was something not quite right about the buttons. They were far too chunky for shirt buttons. As her sub-conscious tried to work out what was going on she went to inspect the button she was in the process of undoing, only couldn’t do so, because her eyelids had closed. Upon opening them, Dexter, the cuffs, the chair and whole prison cell disappeared and were replaced by her spare bedroom. Kate’s teddy bear eyed her suspiciously, as if he suspected what she had been up to her in dreams. She discovered that the buttons she had been wrestling with were those on the duvet cover. After taking a moment to adjust to the waking world, she sat up in bed and reflected on her dream. Puzzling over why her subconscious had chosen such a person to dream about, Kate happened to notice the necklace lying on her bedside cabinet. Scooping it up in her left hand, she got out of bed and decided that it was high time she paid Sylvia a visit. After all, Sylvia had been using Dream World much longer than Kate, maybe she would be able to provide the answers to some of the questions that were starting to irk her.
Nadia
To her disappointment, when Kate rang she found that Sylvia was out on the golf course.
‘Are you doing anything this evening?’ Kate asked.
‘Not really.’
‘I was wondering if I could pop around.’
‘Is everything alright?’
‘Fine. I just wanted to pick your brains about the dream I had last night, that’s all.’
