Rebecca woke with a scream. She struggled to get free, frantically clawing at the restraints upon her body. Unable to free herself, she screamed again. The sound of her scream woke her further, tearing her from the nightmare desperately clinging to her.
Now free of the nightmare, it took a moment to calm herself, to identify her surroundings.
She was safe in her bed, she forced herself to believe. The restraints she just fought against were nothing more than bedsheets tightly wrapped around her body during her frantic struggle. The nightmare could not reach her now.
As her racing heart began to slow, she could hear the deep throated rumble of a motorcycle cruising through the neighborhood. The thunderous sound must have brought forth the nightmare she rationalized. Through the open bedroom window, the moon shone brightly, casting pallid shadows in the room. A gentle breeze lazily tugged at the helm of the curtains. Moments later the sounds passed, silence once again reigning supreme.
Another quiet night.
Too quiet for a woman that had lived her whole life in the city.
She felt for Ryan, but found herself alone in bed. She always slept better when Ryan was with her. Ryan, her fiance, was away on business, taking a deposition in San Francisco and wouldn't be back for several more days. Ryan was doing everything he could to earn a partnership with his lawfirm, including spending a lot of time away from Rebecca.
The clock on the nightstand said it was just a little past three. Rebecca sighed, rose from bed, padded naked to the bathroom, tendrils of the nightmare clung to her mind, unwilling to be exorcised.
"Not real." She whispered pushing through the darkness, finding her self in the bathroom.
It had been years since she had that nightmare, that dream.
It was hard to shake the dream. She could almost feel it, the dream alive in her mind, confusing her thoughts, her memories once more, making it difficult to determine what was real. It would be so easy to think the dreams were real. Something the therapists spent years on convincing her otherwise.
The psychologists of her youth said she would outgrow the reoccurring dreams, and they were right as the dream slowly ebbed away as she grew older.
But tonight the dream of old returned, stronger, more intense than ever before.
More urgent.
"Not real, not real." She repeated the mantra she had not said in years, the mantra her therapists insisted she say when the dreams came.
Rebecca turned on the bathroom light, winced in the bright lights, waiting for her eyes to adjust.
Finally, she opened her eyes to stare at the reflection in the mirror for several long moments, forcing herself to really look at her reflection. She knew a moment of disappointment, for it was only her reflection looking back from all the large mirrors.
Only a dream.
"Dragon's are not real." She said aloud with conviction. To admit otherwise was to give into the madness again and all the trouble that would bring with it.
She couldn't go through all of that madness again.
No.
Never again.
She sighed, leaned against the vanity to hold her up, stared intently at her double on the other side of the glass.
Unbidden memories surfaced. She couldn't remember when she first dreamed of dragons, seemingly had always dreamed of them since earliest childhood, but over time the dreams became brighter, more real, eventually consuming her.
While other girls on the playground of that age idolized horses, fantasizing their strength, their free spirit, Rebecca revered dragons. More than anything, Rebecca wanted to be a dragon, with their strength, the ability to fly, inspiring fear and respect. The other kids made fun of her as she pretended to be soaring around the playground at recess. There were always knights in shining armor on the playground willing to slay her.
Dragons are not real, the others would taunt her mercilessly.
Rebecca knew that. But deep down Rebecca wanted to believe, wanted to believe that dragons were real, had always been real, driven into hiding by man. As she grew older, she learned that in the past people would find fossils of dinosaurs and believe them to be that of dragons that only recently died. All cultures had legends of dragons, of great and mythical beasts. Some dragons were wise, others fearsome, and some just an agent of chaos, but where ever they were, they were remembered, venerated, and even worshipped.
As a child, her dreams, her fantasies were of dragons. And not just any dragon, but the dragons of medieval Europe, the dragons of fable. Huge, fearsome beasts that devoured cattle and men with equal indifference. Evil beasts that laired in caves, using maidens to bait the brave knight intent on rescuing the fair damsel. The fearsome dragons one would see in movies.
In her youth, the walls of her room were adorned with images of dragons, the shelves filled with dozens of books, all dragon related. She took art lessons simply to learn how to draw and sculpt dragons. Even tried to get a tattoo of a dragon when she was still a minor.
Every Halloween Rebecca would dress as a dragon, pretending to fly from house to house seeking the treasure known as candy, yet in her imagination she knew the candy to be tribute from frightened villagers so that she would not burn the village and kill all of the livestock.
When she grew into puberty, her dreams, her desires took a different, darker turn. It wasn't enough to simply to become a dragon, she wanted to have sex as a dragon. She researched all she could on the anatomy of dragons, and found little information. Seemed that no writer wanted to address the physiology of a mythical creature, and what little she did find was incomplete, or contradictory. So it was left to Rebecca to imagine what sex between dragons was like.
At first she imagined that dragons were like Bald Eagles. The great raptors only had sex while in flight, locking their talons together as they plunged downwards from a great height. If they couldn't finish in time, they fell to their doom.
Very dramatic idea, but as she would learn from a nature documentary, not based in truth. Bald Eagles only locked talons while courting, or in battle, never sex. The show explained in a rather anticlimactic fashion, that one eagle would mount the other as most animals did, from behind, while safely on the ground.
Rebecca was disappointed to learn that. She rather liked the idea of the dangerous mating ritual. Even so, it still left the matter of what the dragon's reproductive organs actually looked like. She was quick to dismiss the genitalia of lizards and snakes. Dragons were not related to snakes or lizards. Dragons were as gods compared to those puny reptiles and their deformed hemipenis, and deserved equally god like genitalia. A male dragon would have a beautiful penis. Not a human penis of course, as that would be ridiculous.
Rebecca used her skills as a sculptor in an attempt to create the perfect likeness of what an erect dragon cock would be like, but could never capture the true magnificence of such a thing.
Then at a party, Rebecca saw a porno movie of a woman having sex with a stallion. It was a revelation. The others thought her strange as she rewound the scene again and again, capturing every minute detail in her mind. It was the moment she realized why her modeled cocks never looked right. The dragon cocks she created were far too small.
Taking inspiration from that video, Rebecca spent months sculpting the ideal dragon penis, hiding it from even her family and closest friends. No one could know of this fantasy she had. She saved all of her money, buying the supplies she would need, and when the moment was right, she cast the cock in silicone and latex, making it extremely life like.
But Rebecca was only a mere human, and young at that, and there was no way she could actually fit such a large thing in her.
Not to say she didn't try.
And that attempt led to surgery and a stay at the hospital, and years of counseling.
Brushing the old memories aside, Rebecca went to open the medicine cabinet, she caught a reflection of something dark in the mirror. Startled, she spun to find herself alone. Spooked, she studied the reflection in the mirror, trying to determine just what she had seen.
