In Dreams Dominance

Looking back, Isha was the tipping point. Maybe it was some strange toxic reaction to the guilt. Maybe it was just that all of this was becoming normal for me. But the fact of the matter was that I had an endlessly changeable, endlessly mutable world that I could use nightly as my own personal sexual playground with anyone I wished to draw in. It was a near-infinite engine for erotic fantasies so realistic as to be indistinguishable from the real thing.

It wasn't enough for me.

I drifted for a while, entertaining myself with a dozen women. No one night dips anymore- well, no more than a handful- but no attempts at forging anything like a relationship either. I settled instead on a set pattern; relentlessly dream-corrupting women before abandoning them once I had 'conquered' them in the real world.

Three of them stand out.

***

Tracey was a friend. She and I got along. At least until Isha.

Tracey was a little closer to Isha than I was, which meant that when her friend began to act oddly, she noticed. And when Isha vanished, she knew who to suspect. Who to go to with questions. I still remember how she looked as we sat in the coffee-shop. Her short red hair, her modest breasts in her green T-shirt. Her blue eyes soft as she spoke to me in soft, earnest tones.

She was polite at first. Invited me to share anything I might know. As a friend. If I knew anything. If there was something that I might want to talk to her about. She waited for me to comment.

I didn't comment. I didn't really say anything. Maybe I gave of some signal, some smug little twist to my mouth, some glint of amusement in my eyes. Whatever it was, she began to be less polite. Demanded to know what had happened. Snapped at me. I remember her eyes narrowing with disgust. With condemnation. She began to call me names.

Insults are more of an art but a science, but if you really want to hurt a person- if you want to pierce their armour of self-regard and strike them deep- then the general rule is that you accuse them of something that they deny to themselves but know, deep down, is true. Something they cannot in their heart defend against. And so it was that scattered alongside her vague insinuations and flat-out misfires there were a couple of direct hits:

You were meant to be her friend. You betrayed her. You're not really a nice guy.

If she'd never have met you she would have been okay.

And it bothered me. It made me react. Just not in the way that she hoped.

I slithered into her dreams that very night.

***

Tracey blinked.

Barry stood over her. One hand was on his cock, slowly pumping his erection; the other gripped her by the shoulders, his fingers digging painfully into her flesh. They were both naked in the middle of an empty classroom. His eyes were full of an ugly fury as he stared down at her. "Look at this."

She looked down crosseyed at his erection, turned an angry red from his violent fisting. "You want this. You want this more than anything."

"I don't underst-"

"You want this. You want this. You need this. Do you understand, you uppity bitch? You're addicted to my cock."

She couldn't believe the words. But a throbbing rush of pleasure filled her mind as the stared at that angry erection. She sat there, her mouth open, as he kept talking. "You want my cock. You need my cock. You're addicted to my cock."

All at once he thrust it forward, filling her mouth in one smooth motion. He began to pump it down her throat and Tracey struggled as his words continued to hammer like blows down onto her ears. "You want my cock. You need my cock. You want my..."

The pleasure kept building and building inside of Tracey as she began to bob her head back and forth...

That first night was an impromptu foray but it was one that I decided to build upon.

Tracey moaned through her gag and struggled in her restraints. She was bent over onto the cold table that she had been chained to. Hands pinned her down further, capturing her arms while behind her...

She could feel it. Rubbing back and forth in a slow, gentle, maddening motion. Back and forth, back and forth, its length sliding on her hot cunt's lubrication. Sometimes the flaring head would get caught and nearly slide in and she hoped- hoped more than anything, more than life itself- that he would take pity on her. That he would fuck her.

And all the time he whispered in a dark voice, the words seeping into her brain. "You want my cock. You need my cock. You're addicted to my cock." Over and over again.

He'd been at this for what felt like hours, edging the both of them, never stopping, never crossing the threshold and slipping into her desperate, needy pussy, easing back whenever she was on the cusp of release. It was torture. It was a nightmare. She was going to go mad with need. She might already be mad.

"You want my cock," he kept saying in that horrid slithering whisper. "You need my cock. You're addicted to my cock..."

I surprised myself with my cruelty. With my vindictiveness.

"Tell me," he said. "Tell me."

"Please!" Tracey's body trembled with need as she knelt before Barry. "I need it. Please." She licked dry lips, desire like a physical pain inside of her. "I need it bad."

He sneered at her. One hand rested on his belt buckle, fingers gently toying with the metal. She moaned at the sight, aware he was playing with her, tormenting her, but utterly unable to stop herself. "What will you do to get it?"

"I'll fuck you."

"More."

"I-I'll suck you off. Whenever you want!" The heat was spreading through her, throbbing, aching, as he ever so slowly began to undo his belt buckle.

"More."

"I'll give you- my ass!" She'd never done anything like that before but he undid his belt buckle fully, fingers poised on his fly, and she felt a rush of joy unlike anything she'd ever experienced before. "I will!"

"More."

"I- I'll make videos! Naked videos, for you to watch!" He slowly pushed the zipper down, revealing his bulge-laden underwear. "I'll fuck you however you want! Anything you want!" His cock came out and for a moment she stopped, mesmerised by the beauty of that purple head. Her cunt throbbed with need as she abased herself, grovelling. "You can do whatever you want with me! Anything! I'll do threesomes! I'll fuck other men! Other women! I'll-"

"Good." And with that he pushed her down onto the dirt. A moment later his cock speared through her pussy lips and she screamed with pleasure, clawing at the ground as she came-

***

It took a week for the need I infected her with to drive her to start to talk to me again. Three days later and she was outright apologising for her 'harsh words'. The next day she was awkwardly flirting with me.

Two weeks after she had called me a bastard I fucked her like a dog on her own bed while she moaned and panted and clawed at her bedsheets. This was after I had shown up at her house, entirely uninvited, and told her- in harsh, demanding tones- to take her clothes off. She'd leapt to comply with a desperate haste that made my black heart sing with triumph.

I wasn't gentle. I wasn't kind. No sweet words, no foreplay, nothing but animal rutting. She loved every second of it. I took my pleasure from my newly-conquered slut, using her body as I wanted. I remember the despairing look she gave me as I pressed my lubricated condom-wrapped cock against her asshole. But she didn't say a word as I slowly and carefully eased myself inside her. Two weeks ago she'd condemned me.

Now look at her.

I fucked her senseless that night and then I did the cruellest thing I could imagine- I ghosted her. Ignored her frantic texts, walked away from her when she tried to talk to me. Soon enough her haughty contempt for me was back- doubled, in fact. It didn't matter. I could have her whenever I wanted, however I wanted, and she would come crawling. I knew that. And more importantly, so did she.

Victory. Wonderful victory.

***

Jing barely spoke a word of English. I didn't really know precisely what she was doing at the university; her involvement in this educational facility seemed to be limited to strutting around the place in designer clothes and occasionally showing up to a lecture. She might have been a rich kid being sent to somewhere out of the way by her rich father. She might well have shown up to the lectures as a quiet place to chill out with her phone. It didn't really matter. She was pretty. She was around. And she could answer some questions that I might have had concerning my abilities.

So I used the girl as a guinea pig.

The boy Jing had seen around the university sometimes walked up to her and tapped her on the shoulder. She turned around, blinking, as he said something- what? She was still struggling with the language here- she was struggling with a lot of things, this far away from home- and this guy suddenly accosting her wasn't helping.

He kept trying to say something. She tried to tell him that she didn't understand but then she felt his hands press gently down on her shoulders-

Wuxia hero Jing sat in the shrine grove. Her robe hung loose on her shoulders as she pursed her lips. She leant forwards as her master- wise and skilled in the arts- spoke to her in flawless mandarin...

That she didn't understand for some reason. Her master seemed to grow agitated and then-

Jing the high school student frowned. She pulled down the hem of her tight, tiny uniform skirt and began to write out lines like her teacher Barry had told her to. She shivered, painfully aware that she must have been showing him her bare ass and pussy- the uniforms absolutely forbade underwear after all- as she wrote.

Wait. She couldn't even read- or understand- what she was writing. She heard her teacher give off an exasperated sigh-

Jing the hacker lay atop her couch, her head secured in a VR helmet. Her body was clad in a skintight black catsuit, open at the groin to allow the neural access port to plug in. She did her best to ignore the way it thrummed and pulsed inside her pussy and concentrated at the task at hand, studying the world of code around her. She could feel the presence of her handler Barry in the real world, anxiously waiting for her to decrypt the file.

Nothing. She couldn't understand any of it! But she'd decrypted the file, hadn't she? She heard her handler growl in frustration.

Rule Thirteen: Language is a barrier...

***

Jing the hacker moaned as the file was decrypted and images filled her screen. Dozens- hundreds of images- of women surrounded her. All of them on their knees. All of them eagerly- joyously- sucking cocks, big cocks, fat cocks, cocks of all colours and shapes. Jing screamed as the neural port suddenly went haywire, filling her body with unimaginable pleasure. Inside the confines of her VR helmet her mouth gaped open and her tongue lolled out, seeking out a cock to fill her throat...

Jing the student stared up at the drawing her teacher had done. A portrait of her- it was unmistakably her- on her knees naked, with her teacher's cock sliding between her lips. Her teacher gestured for her to come forward impatiently and she realised that the oral part of her exam was about to take place...

Jing the wuxia hero stared at the scroll her master had given her. Lewd images- one after the other- all showing girls pleasuring men with their mouths! She looked up at the master. Was this really the hidden secret of their order? He merely nodded sternly and pushed back his robe to reveal his own erection. Jing nodded as she eased off her own robe and began to crawl forward. She was an initiate of the Golden Mouth and she would make her ancestors proud...

Barry's cock filled Jing's mouth. His hands were on her head, firm but insistent as he held her in place. Despite all of her confusion, despite the surreal nature of what had just taken place she began to move as though from instinct, bobbing her head and feeling his hardness press against her cheeks. It was- despite the strangeness of it all, despite the implicit submissiveness of the act, strangely pleasant. Soothing. She closed her eyes and leaned against Barry, giving herself over to the calming sensations; the heat of his flesh, the smoothness of his skin, the waste of his sweat mixed with the bitterness of his pre-cum. She suddenly realised that she was happy. She loved this. She loved sucking Barry's cock...

Rule Thirteen continued:...But not for long.

A week later Jing's collection of English words expanded to include, "Suck," "Cock," and "Please?". I let her satiate her newfound oral fixation a dozen or so times in my room- and her room, an unused classroom, a cinema bathroom stall and once in the back of a bus. I fucked her once or twice as well, for all that her enthusiasm was lukewarm. It helped that I was willing to let me clean me up with her tongue afterwards. After that I got bored and moved on.

***

Sally was next, I think? Or maybe there were a couple of girls before her. I forget. I remember Sally because I didn't pick her because she was sexy- she was pretty in a doll-like way but she wasn't usually my sort. No, I picked Sally because of her boyfriend, Daniel.

Daniel was a dick. He was loud and arrogant and made some jokes about me that weren't funny. Oh, he apologised afterwards in his fake-earnest way, pretending it was just bad humour, but I wasn't hearing any of it. He'd insulted me. And men like me- well, we didn't let insults just sit.

An evening spent roaming his social media told me everything that I needed to know about Sally. Enough, at least, to 'accidentally' bump into her in one of her classes and have a short discussion. I was getting good at that- engaging random women in short, pointless discussions, the sort that they'd write off as inconsequential. The sort that would seal their fates.

I went to bed that night salivating over what I was going to do to her.

It took a week to find her; a week fuelled by vengeful fantasies. I had contemplated and discarded and refined all sorts of scenarios for dear little Sally. Scenarios that I unleashed on her when I finally connected to her dreaming self.

***

Sally smiled as Barry leaned close to her. His hand was on her knee- she could feel each individual finger-touch on her bare skin, the forbidden contact making her heart pound. Around them people talked and laughed and flirted, the party in full swing. But their features were blurred, their words faint and indistinct. She wasn't thinking about them. She was thinking about Barry.

"Come upstairs with me," said Barry.

"Where?" She bit her lip; he was staring at her like a predator. She liked it a lot more than she thought she would.

"My room."

She tried to rally. "I- I have a boyfriend. I-"

"I know," he said. "And we both know that it doesn't matter, does it?" He leant closer. "You're excited about cheating with me, aren't you?"

His hand slid up her thigh and she felt her insides surge with need.

"Don't you?" he repeated. She blinked and licked her lips as his murmured into her ear. "You like to fuck other men, don't you? When your boyfriend has no idea. You want to cheat on your boyfriend." She looked away but he gently took her by the chin and moved her head until she was staring into his eyes. "Don't you?"

They stared at each other for a handful of heartbeat. Long enough for the air to grow hot; for her skin to flush; for her nipples to stiffen inside her dress. "Say it," he said.

"Yes," she whispered.

"You want to cheat on your boyfriend with me."

"...I want to cheat on my boyfriend with you."

Barry smiled. His hands slid up to stroke her pussy atop her panties, heedless of the people around her. "So let's go cheat on him."

Suddenly they were in his bedroom. She grinned as he stripped her, his hands roaming along her small, shapely figure as he did. He lay her down on the bed and removed his own clothes; she spread her legs in wordless invitation. He bent down to kiss her breasts, her stomach, murmuring, "I'm a better fuck than your boyfriend." She giggled as he cupped her breasts, as he positioned his cock to enter her. "You want to cheat on your boyfriend with me..."

***

Sally the happy housewife opened the door. "Barry!" she smiled at her husband's best friend. "What brings you here?"

"I wanted to talk to you." He stepped into her 50's era kitchen, removing his hat as he did.

"Well," she said, smoothing the creases on her apron as she turned away, "Daniel isn't here. He's working so hard these days, I barely get to see him-"

"I know." Suddenly she felt Barry's body press against her back; felt his hands move to grab her waist. Felt his breath in her ear as he murmured, "In fact, I was counting on it."

She gasped and spun around. "We can't! I'm married!"

He silenced her with a strong kiss. She shivered as he murmured, "We both know that it only makes this hotter." He kissed her again and she felt her body respond, felt her lips opening, her tongue moving to quest against his. Then she pulled away.

"No," she said. "I mustn't. Please-"

Five minutes later she was vent over the kitchen table. Her floral dress was hiked up over her hips and her panties here pulled down to her ankles. Barry thrust his cock into her sopping cunt while the good housewife moaned and panted like a cheap whore. Barry fucked her without pity or subtlety, laughing as he did. "You want to cheat on Daniel with me," he sneered.

As she rolled her hips to meet his brutish thrusts, Sally found that she couldn't really disagree.

***

Sally the Princess sneered at Daniel the generic good guy protagonist as he cowered- bruised, bloodied and broken, before her. "I don't understand," he said.

Her captor- if he could still be called that- wrapped a possessive arm around her waist. Barry the Orc Warlord Who Was Fearsome and Well-Endowed and Also in a Band, sneered with her. "What did you expect?" he said, his tusked jaws wrinkling into vicious smile. "Once she got a taste of my superior orc cock, it was all over. That's why she drew you and your forces into this ambush. That's why I defeated you. Because I'm a better lover than you and your lover wants to cheat on you with me. Isn't that right?"

Sally the Princess nodded. "It's true! All I want to do now is fuck other men!" Daniel sobbed, his shoulders slumping with despair.

A green hand pushed gently against Sally's tiara crowned hair. She dropped elegantly to her knees. Without prompting she reached into his cool loincloth and fished out his wonderful orc cock. She turned one last time to glance at Daniel- sad, pathetic little Daniel- before taking Barry's big green cock into her mouth.

Thunder roared and flames rose in the night sky as the sexy fallen princess pleasured the orc leader in front of her defeated lover, bobbing her head as he pulled an electric guitar out of thin air and began to beat out a wicked tune-

***

I settled in for the long haul with Sally. Breaking Daniel's girlfriend was almost certainly going to be the work of weeks. I was going to have to be patient. Meticulous. Destroying her love for him was going to be a journey- a long, pleasant, orgasm-filled journey.