03: Diving Deeper Before Devining the Clinic’s Dreams

Reality leaves a lot to the imagination.

John Lennon

After Friday night’s misadventures and his unexpected exposure to two members of his household, Theo decided it best to abstain from another attempt and reflect on what transpired. His experiences were decidedly different than Tom’s, and his conscious dreaming, while covering a lot, didn’t explain it all. He needed time to process the experience before risking more inadvertent revelations, either dream related or physical exposures.

Alli and Wendy’s both recognizing he was somehow sharing their dreams, and not merely a part of them, was disturbing. If they remembered any of it, as his aunt seemed to, it implicated him in a host of complications. Thus, he wasn’t sure whether they truly didn’t recall, or just pretended not to. He also couldn’t fathom why they’d feign ignorance while slyly admitting awareness. Alli’s specific memories of their dream discussions meant that, even if they didn’t remember the details, it still made his presence in others’ dreams problematic.

He could easily imagine their avoiding discussing it, since they dealt with their most intimate fantasies and desires. He needed to determine the risks going forward. He seemed to possess an extraordinary control over other’s dreams, unlike Tom—control he didn’t have over his own, which remained as murky as everyone else’s. His seeming ability to remain invisible in people’s dreams was a tremendous tool, but not if they determined he was controlling it.

What allowed Alli to identify him, while Tracy didn’t, was particularly vexing. Though Wendy’s capacity to not only detect his presence, but actively follow him into others’ dreams and see him apparently anytime was especially troubling. He worried how many others might share the same innate skill. He doubted she carried the only related genes, making visiting anyone’s dreams risky.

So, Theo waited, biding his time. But after several days, he was eager to try again, to gain more experience with the process, hopefully avoiding the same mistakes at his clinic.

Professionally and legally, he needed to remain a voyeur, observing passively as Tom had, without accidentally revealing his presence. It worked with their neighbor Tracy. He’d entered her dream and she never realized he was there, though she wasn’t paying attention to anyone other than her fantasy boyfriend. Yet he’d somehow drawn Wendy into her dream, clumsily exposing himself as the one manipulating things. Though, like Alli, she hadn’t indicated she was even aware of it.

Obviously, taking an active role was problematic, but how perilous it was, wasn’t clear. And in both Wendy and Alli’s case, it hadn’t mattered what role he played, as his presence was quickly noted.

His stomach churned, as he once again considered the small dried sliver in his palm. Everyone was already in bed, and it being late Sunday, he needn’t worry about still being high during a clinic.

Deciding he was as prepared as he’d ever be, he took the substance, reminding himself he couldn’t afford to continue trooping through the neighborhood naked as a jaybird. It once more took a while, but he now knew what to expect. He observed the same eerie, unearthly colors creeping around his peripheral vision. After a short time, flocks of tiny birds began singing various commercial lyrics in unison with a heavy Jamaican accent. Which seemed strangely appropriate, given their migratory patterns.

He’d taken an even smaller dose, though his first was less than Tom suggested. Like the last time, the next thing he knew he was utterly naked. But rather than wandering the street, he was splayed out in his chair, his clothes scattered around him, sporting his usual erection. He also had a vague memory of tap dancing on the far wall in tune with the bird’s tweets, careful not to disturb the framed pictures. Though he didn’t know whether it was an actual memory or a false ‘pseudo-memory’.

He accepted the perpetual erections were a side effect of the substance, as his thoughts weren’t even slightly sexual. Based on his medical training, he realized the priapism—the technical term for prolonged, nonsexual erections—was clearly ischemic. But due to its non-painful nature, he worried it might be purely imaginary. The same happens with marijuana or cocaine use, though the long-term consequences are identical: Fournier’s gangrene, where the impeded circulation threatens the penile tissue. Permanent erectile dysfunction is normally a strong possibility. It persisted when he woke, but so too did the delusions. But as long as he didn’t exhibit the classical symptoms, he wouldn’t worry, since he couldn’t report how the condition originated, presented or impacted him anyway.

Standing by pressing on the chair’s arms, he instead floated off the chair. Like the last time, he kept rising, accelerating after passing through the ceiling, ascending into the heavens.

Realizing it was the result of ingesting the organic substance, and he wasn’t actually expanding beyond the Earth didn’t matter. He again felt himself a part of the universe, but more importantly, a minor aspect of God himself. He was aware of the universe’s spirit—a sort of mass-wisdom, benevolent force—but understood he was only a tiny cog in the massive universe. He realized he needed to pursue this research, regardless of his personal qualms, because it would help humans tap into their otherwise untapped capabilities linking humanity.

Whether his observations were ultimately useful or not, it was a part of something greater than his insignificant life. He also understood the risks to him didn’t matter, as long as he helped humanity advance beyond their current limitations. It was an imposing and unnerving thought, reinforcing his individual unimportance, but strengthened his humility and resolve. What’s more, the realization wasn’t related to the delusions, as it relied on his previous beliefs.

Returning to Earth, he found himself back in Tracy’s dream, her fantasy romance having transformed into a romantic tragedy. Both watched the same boy walking hand-in-hand with another girl down her school’s hallway. A series of revenge scenarios flashed through her dream landscape in quick succession. Satisfied he remained invisible—at least in her dreams—he reawakened back in his house, in the same sprawled position as before, as if nothing happened. The tiny birds circling now tweeting toilet cleanser, toilet paper and paper-towel ads, though they’d switched to a Scottish accent, contrary to their normal migratory patterns.

Standing and stumbling, seeming led by his erection, he searched for his pants—ignoring the rest of his clothes. Finding them stuffed under the couch, he put them on, trying something new, searching for someone specific—Tracy’s mother. He found her as a series of storylines played through her dream as well. Images of Tracy shooting up, flirting with gang members, pregnant, and finally upside down, unconscious, in a spinning, crumbled car as blue lights flashed in the background.

Waking, he willed himself back asleep, discovering Vivian imagining even worse scenarios, but they ceased abruptly as he began projecting Tracy’s dream. She froze, observing her daughter’s angst as her mouth hung open. When the entire thing played out, a tear ran down her cheek, as she stepped forward, reaching out for her. Satisfied he’d resolved this issue for both women, he woke, allowing Vivian to continue the dream on her own.

Confirming how to properly influence others’ dreams, he tried Alli’s once more. When he appeared, she was making out with a dream-version of himself. Both had the same bluish cast, though he noted his physical characteristics were precise—or at least reflected his priapism dimensions. Freezing, she drew back and glanced around, ignoring his cerulean doppelgänger, who vanished without responding to her withdrawal.

“I know it’s you, so you may as well show yourself.” Walking around her, he observed her head swiveling, only a moment behind his actual position as she accurately tracked his movements. Stopping, he revealed himself.

“So, why are you and Wendy aware of me, when no one else is?”

“Ah, you’re so much better than my version of you,” she noted, sizing him up again, the entire scene gaining detail, natural coloration and lighting. “Not only do you look real, but your moves are instinctual, your responses fluid and your colors ... vivid.” She paused, contrasting the two. “You’ve taken the joy out of dreaming. I’m no longer satisfied with my own dreams, preferring yours. Mine pale in comparison. While mine are drab, yours are more lifelike than life, more fantastic than fantasy.”

Waving, he switched them to their living room, a safer alternative. Turning, she took in the new scene before glancing down at herself. Randomly touching her hair and running her fingers through the fine strands, reveling in the tactile sensations.

“I need you to cater all my dreams, but you’re the expert. I’m still wrestling with conscious dreaming, changing them whenever you disappear on me.”

“So, you were both aware of everything occurring during our ... mutual dreams?”

She shrugged. “I can’t speak for Wendy, but I assume so. She’s cagey when keeping a secret, afraid to talk lest she reveals something.”

He nodded. “I’ll remember that in the future. So, you both were trying to avoid embarrassing me?”

“Not so much embarrass,” she said, as his pants—his only clothing—disappeared, “as avoiding an awkward situation.” Speaking slowly, she changed her tone, inflection and volume, experimenting with her new dream consciousness, fascinated with how detailed and realistic everything was. “Though more to avoid embarrassing Wendy, since I didn’t know whether you’d involved her or not.”

His erection bobbed as he walked, as the living room rotated around her, allowing her to face him while remaining stationary. He was having fun playing too, especially with a safe space to work out the details. “Yet there’s a strange dynamic here, where you’re both aware of me, while no one else is. To keep from exposing myself, I need to uncover what’s happening.”

She considered it, as his erect penis involuntarily moved on its own, first forward and back, then side to side. Realizing she wasn’t paying attention, the room stopped rotating as he faced her.

“You’re getting better at this, even without any training. You seem to be a natural at it.”

“No, whenever you enter my dreams, I go from a dream state to full-consciousness—within the dream. Like you, I’m able to think clearly.”

“That’s circular logic. You’re only more aware, because you’re already conscious of me. When you then confront me, I force the issue. At that point, you’re arguing with me, rather than experiencing your dream.”

“Or we simply know you better than complete strangers or casual acquaintances,” she countered.

“Fine. I’ll concede, but it’s not that I’m doing something wrong,” he clarified, “alerting you that I’m there?”

“Well...” she hedged, glancing down at his erection again.

“This is why I keep pressing the issue. If I accidentally observe someone’s dreams, I’d rather not alert them that I’m influencing them. So, what’s exposing my presence?”

Finding himself stroking his cock, he yanked his hand away, realizing Alli did it the way she kept stripping him, or mentally prodding his penis.

“One thing you do is deny my fantasies. If you’re not around, I find satisfaction. When you are, I’m left frustrated.” She vanished, leaving him glancing around for her, just as she did with him. She reached around him, stroking him while pressing her body against his.

Pulling away, she followed while pulling his shortest appendage. His constant erection made him receptive to such a direct attack.

“This is ... awkward,” he protested, quitting his struggles to escape, but turning away, making her reach further to fondle him. “I’m your guest. You’re doing me a favor. I don’t want to take advantage of your hospitality. Most of all, we’re related.”

“Hardly! This is a dream fantasy, occurring only in our minds while we’re both asleep. Secondly, we’re not only third cousins, you’re only a step-cousin, related to Conner, who died years ago. Due to the stresses of raising Wendy by myself—and my grief after his passing—I never dated. By assuming Conner’s role and supplying a supportive, positive male role model for Wendy, you’ve given me more time to recover, both physically and emotionally.

“So, now that my romantic interests are reigniting, who do you think my fantasies turn to? The sexiest man I know! Who just happens to live under my roof, and who Wendy and I both adore. So please, let me live out my fantasies—in my dreams, at least. We can debate what we do while awake. I’m fine if we never mention it, as long as I have an outlet while asleep.”

“Except, you don’t need my participation to fantasize over me.”

“Trust me, having experienced the difference between a fuzzy, pale imitation and the real imaginary you, I doubt I’ll return to plain dreams again. And whatever role you’ve played in Wendy’s, I suspect she feels the same way.”

“Gah!” he groaned, holding his head, ignoring as she shifted once more, gaining an firmer handhold as she continued to fondle him. “That’s a nightmarish image, but ... you’ve convinced me. I’m willing to see how this plays out.”

“Finally!” she leaned into his chest, enfolding him in her arms and kissing him. “Now, shut up, play your expected fantasy role, and make beautiful love to me.”

Holding her tight and welcoming her kiss, Theo found himself beneath her in her bed as she snuggled against him. Her hands running over his chest, arms, and finally his crotch. She hesitated, considering him.

“Tell me, how much of this is you, and how much is your size my fantasy projection?”

“Actually, it’s something I took that allows me to visit other people’s dreams. It unfortunately creates a perpetual erection, so you deserve a warning. I may not last long, as I’ve been primed for this for some time.”

“Good,” she said, peppering him with kisses. “While I’d prefer a dramatic finish, I’ll either fantasize of you with my toy or fall fast asleep. I’ll win either way, since my fantasy dreams rarely end conclusively anyway.”

Despite his protests, they made out for some time, partially because given his warning, she wasn’t as aggressive as previously. But after a while, he rolled them both over, working his way down, kissing her ears, neck, collarbone and settling in on her nipples.

“Hmm,” she moaned, grasping his head, “I’ve never had a sexydream as delightful as this. I don’t know what it is, but this even seems to beat my best times with Conner. Somehow, you seem larger, more skillful than real life.”

Rather than arguing, he continued tonguing her nipples before running it along her stomach groove before reaching her furry thatch. Parting it, it evaporated, revealing a clean nether region with a single patch serving as an exclamation over her clitoris.

“You’re getting quite good at this,” he said, licking her clitoral hood. Locating his target, he twiddled it with his tongue as she moaned. “I think you’ve mastered conscious dreaming,” he said, glancing up. Then he noticed Wendy, dressed in her pink pajamas, standing well behind and to her mother’s side.

His dream shattered, Theo sat up, clutching his chest and grasping the arm of his chair, surprised to find his pants around his ankles. Swallowing, he noted Alli’s taste, licking his lips to be sure, shocking him even more. Rather than gaining control over his dream journeys, he was losing what little he’d started with. He’d not only unconsciously dragged Wendy into her mother’s fantasies at the most awkward time, he’d somehow created an imaginary bridge between people’s dreams and the physical world. Similar to the one between remembrances of the dead in the dream of the person responsible. The implications flooded his mind, overwhelming him.

While Alli chose not to acknowledge their dream encounter, Wendy was probably too ashamed to admit them. But this complicated the already complex issues of the encounters. Alli was all for their going all the way, but if he carried her taste back with him, he’d likely leave certain other things behind too.

While everyone seemed okay, he’d royally screwed the familial relationships he depended on. This was no longer a cautious exploration. He’d opened Pandora’s box and his worst nightmares burst forth.

More than anything else, he felt he’d personally failed his newfound purpose in the universe. Although even more humbled, he now questioned whether he was even capable of the momentous mission, stumbling over himself rather than progressing. No, he needed to back up, once again, and reevaluate both his role and his techniques.

Leaning forward, he replaced his shirt, shoving his socks and undershirt into his shoes and crept down the hall. Pausing by Alli’s bedroom, he leaned in, listening. As expected, he heard the soft hum of a small electronic device. Satisfied she hadn’t observed Wendy intruding on their illicit dream, he backed away, heading down the hallway.

Settling into his bed, exhaustion battling his still-thumping heart and multiplying worries, he closed his eyes. Wendy wasn’t dreaming, so he couldn’t determine what impact her intrusion had on her psyche. But, with no way to resolve his concerns, he allowed his fatigue to overwhelm him, drifting into a long, dreamless sleep.

Pausing outside the kitchen the next morning, Theo took time to control his breathing. For whatever reason, he was already fairly smitten with his aunt/landlord, which was dangerous territory. Yet, after what almost transpired the previous night, he was both intoxicated and terrified.

Struggling to restrain his runaway thoughts, he recalled the one thing to stop his emotions from boiling over. The short note that Jennifer left him.

Theo;

I can’t take it anymore. The insular campus and the eternal cocktail parties with your faculty friends and advisors are too stifling. I want to live again.

I’m leaving. I met someone with a motorcycle, willing to take me to California, or as far as we make it. Your world is too small and too restrictive for me.

It’s perfect for you, but killing me.

Goodbye, it was nice while it lasted.

Jennifer

Shivering, he shook his head, his mind clear of any vague romantic delusions. Neither Alli or Wendy glanced up. Wendy grinned around a mouthful of cereal as he sat, but Alli only noticed him when she turned a few seconds later.

“Ah, there you are. Do you want your usual?”

“Nah, I don’t want to put you out. I’ll just have some toast and coffee.” He patted his stomach. “You’ve been feeding me too well, skipping a few meals will help balance it.”

“Nonsense. You’re in great shape, and much too young to worry about such things.”

“If you lose weight, you might disappear,” Wendy teased. “As it is, there’s barely anything to hold on to.”

“You won’t get rid of me so easily,” he said, poking her in the side, triggering a spasm of giggles.

When no one responded to his presence in their dreams again, he decided to press the issue. “How’d everyone sleep?”

“Who can remember?” Alli complained. “There’s too much to recall to waste time on such trivial details.”

“I dreamed of a raccoon chasing puppies,” Wendy volunteered.

“No unicorns or dragons? Maybe I’ve taken you on too many walks through the woods.” Theo tilted his head. “No nightmares, or things you’d rather not see?”

“Nope. If anything, I prefer longer dreams, so the puppies have time to escape.” She held his gaze. “I like happy endings.”

Taken aback, he glanced at Alli for support. “Yeah. I’d like a few more happy endings too!” she admitted, grinning. “If a dream is good—or at least ends happily—it’s worth the time to recall.”

“All right,” Theo sighed, “next time I’ll bring bunnies.”

“You can do whatever you like in your dreams, but mine are fine,” Wendy assured him.

“We know it’s your job, but not everyone is as into dreams as you,” Alli chided.