Chapter 5 - Visitation
I'd had sex dreams before, but they had never been overly explicit. Since I'd never had sex, it probably meant that my brain couldn't quite fabricate the mechanics necessary to build a dream orgy.
In less than a week, though, I'd had two extremely vivid dreams. This time, the dream was both explicit and surreal. I found myself occupying the role of the observer, as well as different people. It started, in fact, with me walking down a corridor that looked unfinished, bare walls held up by wooden planks. People were milling about, working. When they saw me, they stopped what they were doing and stared.
I looked down, and saw that my entire chest was naked, except for a leather vest that was open in the front. The leather hid my nipples, but my bare, pale flesh was open for the world to see. Below that, I simply wore a leather thong and combat boots. The thong, though, had a split in the front, revealing my distended pussy lips for the world to see.
I wanted to instantly cover myself, hide my body, and snapped my head up to look at everyone in the room. I expected them to mock me, to torment me, to point and laugh.
Who does she think she is
? I could almost hear them say.
As I moved my head, though, it felt... weird. As if the weight was all in the wrong place. Instead of covering my crotch, which was my gut instinct, I raised my hand to my head. I was
bald!
No, wait. I had a mohawk!
Looking around the room, I started to see the expression on people's faces. There was lust, arousal, and wanton thirst for me.
They think I'm Punk Girl
, I thought to myself.
Wait... I
am
Punk Girl!
A strange confidence ran through me. I wasn't
me
, so I could be just like Punk Girl. She could do anything, so
I
could do anything. My gait turned into a strut. As I walked through the building, I began to get turned on knowing that I could go up to anyone,
anyone
, and do whatever I wanted to them.
I felt drunk with power.
Turning into the nearest doorway, I found myself in the very room where they had been filming my father's porno. He wasn't there, but that cute redhead, Redd, was and she was on her knees giving a crew member a blowjob, right in the middle of the set!
I wanted what she had, so without thinking about it, I just walked over to them to take what I wanted. I knew what I was going to do, and nothing was going to stop me.
Abruptly, my point of view shifted to the side, to the same perspective where the camera had been placed for the movie. Now a voyeur instead of a participant, I could now see the set as I had while watching the video.
Punk Girl strode up to the Redhead and the crew member (who had no face, for some reason). She pulled Redd off his dick, swung her leg around her head as if she were straddling a horse, and then crawled up his body just like she had done with my father. Redd, completely unfazed, put the guy's dick up Punk Girl's pussy, and began licking her ass. She bounced a little as she got fucked and licked, but then his cock slipped out.
Suddenly my perspective changed again, and I was Punk Girl once more. This time the crew member was holding
me
up, but for some reason his cock wouldn't go back inside me. I squeezed my legs to give me just enough leverage to keep myself latched to his waist, but enough space to get his dick inside of me. I wanted to feel what Punk Girl had been feeling. I could feel his cockhead bumping into me, but it just wouldn't go in.
Meanwhile, I could feel Redd's tongue licking my ass (no, I've never done that before either, but I swear I could feel it in the dream). I imagined his cock jabbing into me, missing, and poking her in the throat. Every time it pushed against my opening, though, I thought it would finally go in, but it didn't.
I was confused, because he was a normal, average-sized guy. He should have been able to enter me with no problem. After all, he had no problem sliding into Punk Girl. I was getting frustrated. I
saw
it. Now it was my turn!
"Come on, stud," I growled at him. "You can do it. Stick it in me!"
I don't know where the assertiveness came from, perhaps some channeling of Punk Girl from the video. In any case, it must have had some impression on him because he kept bumping his head against my sex, but it just wouldn't go any further.
I tried grinding myself down on him, but it didn't work. I began to thrash, trying to find purchase onto his cock by trying to spread my lips around it. "Redd," I called. "Stick him inside me! I wanna fuck,
now
!"
Once more I felt the
bump, bump, bump
of his cock against me, but no joy. Instead of helping, though, Redd stood up behind me, and started tapping me on the shoulder.
"Shannon," she said.
Oh God, what now? Can you see I'm trying to get fucked, here?
"Shannon," she said again. I felt the tapping on my shoulder become more insistent. "Your father will be here at any moment."
The cock stopped moving against my pussy and realization started to dawn on me.
Wait,
I thought, dimly.
How does Redd know my real name?
I was gripping onto the crewman tightly, frustrated. My father would be showing up in his robe, ready to fuck Punk Girl again. Punk Girl was me. Did he want to fuck me? Would he know it was me, and not Punk Girl? I needed to stop what I was doing and get out of there, but
oh-dear-lord-that-cock-needs-to-be-inside-me-first
.
"Shannon!" The aggressive push on my shoulder finally brought me awake. "You need to get ready."
Confusion reigned in my sex-starved head. Redd's voice was definitely my mother's, and the crew member I was latched onto dissolved into ether. I felt my legs wrapped around the sheets and my arms gripping the pillow in a tight embrace. Suddenly I understood why the crew member felt somewhat squishy.
Fuck
,
what a waste of a promising sex dream
.
"I'm up, I'm up," I groaned.
I opened one eye and watched as my mother looked at me funny, then said, "You're not going to have time to shower. Get dressed." She didn't sound pleased.
She turned on her heels and walk out of the room.
Jesus, even barefoot and wearing sweats she's so sexy!
I stretched, my face buried into the pillow as I yawned awake. I felt something touch my inner thigh, and then my pussy. I bolted straight up into the air, and scrambled off the bed. Raising a hand to my mouth to stifle a scream, I felt my heart suddenly jump to a frantic pace.
Evidently I had tossed a bit in my sleep, scrambling my sheets. I had fallen asleep where I passed out, my cotton panties ripped apart, and the dildo still on the bed. Somehow in my sleep I had turned over and caught the obscene toy in between my thighs, and soon the head of the giant cock had "found" its way to my pussy. I struggled to grasp the concept that the dream had been, in fact, the copy of my father's cock pressing against my vagina.
As if that wasn't shocking enough, I wondered if my mother had seen it. I was stricken with horror - what if she
had
seen it, and seen me humping my father's fake cock in my sleep? In a manner of a few seconds, I had gone from a deep (if not restful) sleep to complete, wide-awake panic.
I checked the sheets. They were tossed about the bed haphazardly. What did I remember? Was I covered? I think I was covered.
Yes, but are you
sure
?
Oh god, please let me be covered when she walked in. Please, please,
please
don't let her know.
Oh God, I don't know how I could face her!
I paced back and forth in the room, trying to figure out how to do damage control.
What am I going to do?
"Shannon!" she called. "Your father's here!"
Ohgodohgodohgod...
Another panic arose, right next to the first one. This was the first time I would be seeing my father since Simone tried to entrap me with that damn video. I suddenly didn't know if I could face him. Could I fake being sick again?
"Shannon?" she called again.
"Coming!" I shouted. "I'm just... getting dressed."
I grabbed the fake cock off the bed, pulling it free from the tangled sheets. I raced around the room, the silicone dong flopping in my hand like some cartoon character trying to get rid of a bomb with a lit fuse. Where to hide it? If my mother
had
seen it, she would likely come in and try to find it. My mother was sweet, but she was also known to allow her "curiosity" to invade my privacy from time to time.
Every place I could find was too small or too obvious. I thought about stuffing it in between the mattresses, but then remembered that she had found an abandoned attempt at a diary a couple of years before, under the guise of needing to strip the bed for laundry.
Finally, I gave up. I pulled out my overnight bag and stuffed the dildo inside. I pulled out some t-shirts and a pair of jeans, and threw them on top, and then opened my underwear drawer to get some panties and bras.
As the drawer opened I was confronted with a wide assortment of cotton garments, all cut from the same cloth (so to speak) as the shredded ones I was still wearing. Unicorns. Faeries. Strawberries. Birds. One by one, I glanced over my collection of underwear that reinforced my immature status in life.
Glancing up, I happened across the matching lacy bra and panty set that I had draped over my mirror the night before. I grabbed them and threw them on the bed. I ripped off my t-shirt and peeled my ripped panties off. I wasn't sure what to do with them either. It was the same problem as with the dildo; my mother would surely wonder why a pair of perfectly good panties were suddenly ripped in the crotch.
The only place I could think to stash them where my mother wouldn't ever look was in the garbage pail in the garage, but there was no way to slip past them in the time that I had. Desperate, I chucked them into my bag as well, figuring I'd dispose of them in some other way.
I turned to the unmentionables on the bed, and reached for the panties but stopped short just before picking them up. I don't know why I hesitated, but I did know that it felt wrong, somehow. It was as if simply touching them meant I was a poser, a fraud of some kind. Just the thought of trying them on was an alien concept.
What would Punk Girl think of this?
I thought.
You know what she would think.
I chastised myself.
She wouldn't even think about it for a second. She wouldn't care what anyone thought!
I recalled my dream where I, as Punk Girl, had worn crotchless panties around the set and didn't think twice.
Resolved, I grabbed the panties and pulled them on. The thong nestled comfortably in-between my ass cheeks, a striking difference from the cotton panties that I usually wore that completely covered my ass. I snapped the delicate waistband against my skinny hips, and looked at my nearly naked frame in the mirror for the first time.
I looked...
