(Warning! R-18!)
My attention was diverted from the story I was reading to my left palm. It was The 15th Pan Book of Horror Stories, a compilation of scary tales put together and published by Herbert Van Thal. My thinking was a little hazy. I came to the conclusion that because I was only partially aware of my surroundings and inside of my dream, I had no control over what would happen next. The last thing you wanted in your dreams was to be defenseless over them because dreams may be really terrifying. I glanced at my left hand and noticed that I was dozing off on my side. I can only see my right hand towards the bed since my hands are clasped together but not entangled. Then, out of nowhere, my vision changed, and I saw a rod. At first, it was blurry, but it gradually became clear, and, to my surprise, it was a huge meat rod. Naturally, I noticed this while only partially aware of what I was doing; I had never before desired an 8-inch Dick this close to my face. It's like experiencing a scene from your point of view, but you have no control over what you are doing. I should also mention that I didn't find the close-up rod in front of my face repulsive. It was as though, despite being a guy by birth, I have no gender-specific moral compass of any kind. My hands softened and took on a more feminine aspect, although I was unaware of it. Although I don't want to think about any possibilities, it appears that's how things will turn out. My hand sensed its firm but supple texture. The heat and its expanding nerves made me feel as though I actually knew what my dream self was doing. However, internally, there is no reaction like there was when I was awake. Instead, it was lust and acceptance. I sniffed and my face moved as I felt at ease. Although it doesn't smell, it was somehow intoxicating and I started to like it as I continued to sniff it closely at the bottom. My hands make a distinct and well-known motion. It must be an outside influence (like AV) and some imagination at play since I've never seen my hand move in such a beautiful, professional-like manner. I should also remind you that I don't feel the gender compass inside my dreams, which is why I don't feel disgusted by my circumstances. As I sniffed the alluring meat rod, my head bobbed with a delicious passion. I had an irrational need for it. Of course, where you anticipate is where only such a situation could go. My tongue touched the meat's head as I poked into it; while it had a little sweet flavor, it didn't bring back any nostalgia of flavors I had previously experienced. All I could discern was that the meat was unusually sweet; it has an alluring taste and aroma. But before anything graphic occurred, the impression persisted even when my vision crossed across it once I started viewing it. It seemed like a fault in the dream caused my eyesight to stop where it had been on my left palm, but the sensation was still moving in the same manner. It took some time, and I grew tired of it. Instead of witnessing the same palm halt still in its posture and simply lie down, the rod never reached its peak, and I felt tired inside my dream. I was suddenly in a different position, yet I remained in the dream and continued to see the same palm, only this time it was different. My left hand was clutching onto a long object that I could make out in my slightly fuzzy vision. I was aware that it might be "that," but this time there was no glitch and I could only vaguely make out the texture. I was gripping it like I was holding the meat rod in the earlier hand position; it was like a big larvae of some type. Naturally, being the ignorant person I am, I tried to jerk it, and it moved. I've never been good with bugs or other critters. I shrieked hysterically when I saw a freakishly enormous bug in my hand because of this. I detest the notion that the only time I can affect the dream is at that one moment. I was shocked to discover that I had such a high level of awareness; I had assumed I didn't, and I was left wondering why it hadn't arisen while I was hand jobbing the meat rod and even gone as far as blowing. As I quickly sat up from my sleeping position and turned my head to the side to look away from the bug, I noticed several identically sized bugs moving around and pulsing on my bed. I felt so horrified that I almost started weeping, but then I recognized what had happened and wondered why it hadn't really kicked up when I was HAND JOBBING AND BLOWING THE MEAT ROD. Anyway, I became aware that I was beginning to have some degree of control over my body and rights to move within the dream, but then my eyes snapped open, and I was startled by the reality. It's possible that the shock of seeing the bugs was just enough to wake me up from my nightmare; it wasn't anxiety that I wouldn't be able to fall asleep again; however, why it didn't kick up when—never mind, it doesn't matter. When I looked at the clock, it was still 4 a.m., so I just picked on where I had left off with the story. It did not take long for me to fall asleep once more. Then I saw, in the dream, a man fleeing from violence from another man who was engaged in a ten-man fight with him and steadily but surely taking the lead. I witnessed the man successfully open the double sliding door with a double knob in the middle by using a little metal prick to pick open a door. He was perplexed, shocked, and terrified at the sight of the maniac, who was almost finished despite the tiny numerical weakness and was close to overcoming it when it opened, which revealed another set of doors. I was witnessing at the moment from his perspective as he quickly pierced the metal pin inside the knobs. It's late now, but I still failed to notice this changes. I felt the sensation as I held the metal pricks. It occurred to me that I might not be able to open this door, and I was terrified by the idea that I might wind myself on the receiving end of violence rather than the man I had just been observing from a third-person perspective. This idea was cut short as I noticed the lunatic easily defeating the opponent who was standing near me. I had to act quickly and simply thrust the prick at the knobs' key apertures and feel the interior with the prick. Miraculously, it opened, but once more, anxiety engulfed me as I perceived a troubling potential. There's a chance that beyond the door I painstakingly open, another door lies in wait for me to open once more. He was throwing his only opponent to the ground when I turned to look behind me. I stopped caring about it and dove back into the prick that is in my hands. I touched the inside of the knob with a circular motion of my hands and clanked* it open miraculously, and I marveledly peered beyond that has no doors. But since there was no way out, the psychotic shifted his attention to me. I quickly entered and peered at the wooden plank that had been nailed to the wall to serve as a temporary covering for the large gap that looked like a window; beyond it was a white body of water that was at least a few feet below. I believed I could see some filth and froth inside, but I didn't hesitate to stick my head through the large window's aperture and let gravity carry me down. I managed to get away from the lunatic. A shift of perspective occurred once more, and I saw myself getting washed forward and back descending under the body of water while experiencing a flushed feeling. I dreamed that I was drawing with a friend in some sort of workshop, but this time the dream had no discernible genre, it went on, and I don't recall the remainder, so it must have been unimportant.
The End.