Part of my "Findom Camgirls" series. Tags: findom, femdom, F/m
I first learned about lucid dreaming last year, while reading the physicist Richard Feynman's autobiography. He has a whole chapter describing his experiments in it, and how he learned do it. He made it seem a skill simple to acquire, and a harmless and fun experience, like taking a mild mind-altering drug from which you could "come down" whenever you wished. I decided I had to try it for myself.
At first it seemed like I would never be able to do it; but after a few nights of practice, I started to make progress, having discovered that having any alcohol or caffeine in my system when I went to bed made it impossible: By the fifth night, as I drifted off to sleep, my thoughts would sort of "channel-hop" quickly and erratically, while part of me remained conscious enough to observe all this. And then the hopping would slow down, and after a few minutes, there I was, my conscious mind observing myself dreaming, and able (or feeling as though it was able) to direct the action in the dream. I had achieved the lucid dreaming state.
The first thing I decided to do in my dream was to confirm one of Feynman's observations, that I could dream in colour. In my dream I saw my red bath-towel laying on my duvet, and beheld that it was indeed bright red. I grabbed the towel and threw it onto the floor by the bed, and then looked down at my hands: My palms were now stained red too! I said to myself, "That's okay, it's not from the towel, it's because I was peeling some beetroot earlier, and forgot to wash my hands afterwards. Maybe I should wake up and wash them now. So I will now please
wake up
!"
For a terrifying minute nothing happened; there was utter blackness and silence, and my body felt paralysed, or rather, swaddled. But then with a stomach-churning rush I awoke, like a diver resurfacing. My heart beat quickly. I turned on the bedside lamp and checked my palms -- which were their natural pink, without a trace of beetroot.
Excited by the success of my first ever lucid dream, I got up, and went to the bathroom to pee. I noticed that my red bath towel was still in its usual place on the towel rack, and chuckled with relief: So I definitely had been dreaming, in bed the whole time, and not been, as I had dimly suspected, sleepwalking.
I suddenly felt exhausted: It was evidently a drain on my mind to lucid dream. I crawled back to bed and slept soundly for the rest of the night. When I woke next morning, I did not recall any more dreams, lucid or otherwise.
I was looking forward to the following night. Throughout that day I thought about my previous night's experience, and considered what my next experiment should be. I recalled one of Feynman's experiments, which was to experience sexual pleasure while lucid dreaming. Now
that
sounded fun.
At that time, I was single, having recently ended a long, and during its death throes, bitter and stressful relationship, so I wasn't in any mood for dating; but my libido had begun to return, and to satisfy my urges I'd frequent online cam girl sites and spend a lot of time, not to mention money, mostly just chatting with, and staring at these gorgeous girls. I guess I was as much lonely as horny.
I had a crush on one model in particular: She called herself "Goddess Azure". She had a coolness about her which made me feel calm and at peace. Her face was almost unbearably beautiful, with such depth and sadness in her pale grey eyes, and a gentle, almost mocking trace of a smile on her full lips. I demanded very little of her: I wanted simply to talk, and to admire her quietly, in an almost religious way. Just watching her, for minutes, sometimes as long as an hour, was incredibly erotic. It occurred to me that she may have found this rather tedious, but we both knew I was paying by the minute, so I didn't feel badly about it. She may have been lying, but she told me she enjoyed my visits, mainly because I was respectful and polite to her when we spoke.
Her term for my fetish was "edging", because I would remain for a long time on the edge of orgasm. She never showed me her naked body. After half an hour or so she would decide it was time to draw the session to a close: She would instruct me to start stroking my dick; finally, as I brought myself to an overwhelmingly powerful orgasm, her lips would part in a satisfied grin; a job well done.
I decided that she should be invited to participate my next lucid dream experiment the following night.
I lay in bed and took a few deep breaths before taking myself into the lucid dreaming state, slightly worried that my eager anticipation would jinx it. But it was fine; my technique worked as well as the night before: My thoughts became fragmented, but part of me remained conscious, observing those thoughts as they coalesced into dreams.
And then I heard -- I
really heard
, a gentle, somehow "sexy" knock at my bedroom door. My cock stiffened.
I tried to speak, but no words came. I sat up and opened my laptop which was lying on my bed. I typed "Come in" on the keyboard. I heard myself saying it then; in my crazy dream logic, typing was the only way I could speak, it seemed. The door opened. She entered. She was wearing a short silk opalescent nightdress. Her figure was perfect; She looked like a fairy tale princess on her wedding night.
But this wasn't a fairy tale: She was here, in my bedroom; she was real. I inhaled through my nostrils, a long breath... I could smell,
actually smell
her mysterious, tantalising perfume. She slowly walked towards the foot of the bed and sat down, her back to me. I could feel my feet being squashed between the duvet and the mattress by her weight. It was so real. I typed it: "This is so real".
She twisted round and replied, "Why not?" She said, "It's more real than seeing me on cam contacts!"
I typed back: "I feel like you're controlling what happens in this dream, even though I know I'm the one dreaming it."
She climbed right onto the bed and straddled me, with only the duvet between our hips. My arms were gently trapped under the duvet by my sides. She bent and kissed me lightly on the lips. Her hair tickled my cheek. I could feel her warm breath on me. I felt myself nearing orgasm. But she whispered in my ear, "I have to go. You need to wake up now, Abel." Abel. I'd never, in all the time I'd visited her online, told her my real name, but she called me Abel. "What's your name, Goddess? Your real name?"
"Lucy."