Dreamscapes Ch. 01

Note to readers:

[The events and actions of characters in this story do not reflect my own beliefs or opinions. This is a purely fictional work. All characters are adults over the age of 18. This first chapter starts relatively light, but I plan to get to some more intense stuff in follow-ups. Enjoy!]

Ch 1.

Ethan shifted gear into park, turned the engine off, and sat silently in the covered car park for a few minutes. As he sat staring at the paint flaking off the concrete wall, he tried to let go of the drudgery of his day at the office. It was the same cycle: uncomfortable small talk, boring emails and never-ending spreadsheets.

He stepped out of his shitbox Toyota, locked the doors, and climbed the steps up to his apartment door. It was the last door on the top of a short walkway over the courtyard. He turned the key and flopped onto the couch. His place was a decently sized one-bedroom flat on the top floor of a small complex a few miles south of downtown. It was a run-down building and the whole neighborhood felt like it was on the decline, but his rent wasn't bad for a single person and it was a quiet spot. Ethan wasn't fastidious, but he did his best to keep his room clear of microwave food wrappers and tried to vacuum the floor at least once a week. It was a little late--his boss had asked him to stay late for a meeting-- so he decided to warm up a frozen dinner.

As the plastic plate danced in the microwave, he started to daydream about his neighbor across the courtyard. She was about his age, mid-twenties, with long brunette hair and deep brown eyes. She also had a flat on the second floor, and he could see her bedroom from his. She was so beautiful, he felt his gaze magnetically pull to her whenever he saw her through his bedroom window. Her long, dark brown hair fell straight down to her mid-back and framed her face perfectly. Bangs cut straight across her forehead and drew attention to her dark brown eyes. Her face was innocent and doe-like--big, soft eyes, a long but elegant nose, and pouty, pointed lips--but she had a slight intensity to her gaze that made it feel like she was looking through you. Ethan spun himself a fantasy: her flashing a quick flirty smirk, a friendly crinkle in her nose, reaching out and touching the side of her face to pull her in and kiss her pillowy lips. She smiled back at him and let out a soft giggle. His thoughts progressed and he imagined her walking him through her bedroom door as she pulled on his belt. She looked straight into his eyes as she knelt down on the floor in front of him and tugged his belt through its loops. Her eyes were excited and her lips slightly open as she let out a quiet, excited laugh. She slid his pants down to his legs and reached for his boxers. He quickly wrapped a hand around her neck and lightly squeezed as he pulled her head back, forcing her gaze up to meet his. He squeezed tighter and she let out a small, shocked gasp as her face bloomed pink. He didn't know what she was into in real life, but this was his fantasy, so as he wrapped his hand tighter, her shock turned into delight, and she smiled mischievously up at him. He continued until her rosy face grew a darker color and he let her fall forward onto her hands. She choked on the air for a moment and then drank it in deep gulps before looking up at him with a smile. She was really, really into this. He grabbed the waistband of his boxers and tugged them down. Reaching for a handful of her hair, he grabbed tightly and dragged her back up off her hands, level with his hips. With his other hand, he held the base of his dick and slapped it hard against her cheek. He held it against her lips and she delicately kissed the tip. She ran her tongue in circles around its head and traced a line down to its base. She looked up from her work and into his eyes as she stuck her tongue out and opened her mouth for him. Her eyes begged him to take his dick and shove it down her throat.

He was ready to oblige her request when the microwave timer pierced his daydream and brought him back to his dingy apartment and his steaming TV dinner. Ethan sighed and gingerly pulled his meal out and set it on the kitchen counter. No point in moving, he thought, so he pulled the plastic film back and ate his dinner in the kitchen, watching Youtube with his phone propped against a dirty glass. He felt a little guilty about his filthy daydreams--he barely even knew his hot neighbor--but he supposed it didn't hurt anyone to spin a little fantasy. He washed some dishes and flopped onto his living room couch to watch some TV before bed. He laid there half-rewatching an old sitcom and swiping through Tinder for about an hour as the evening flew by. Exhausted, he faded into a half-sleep and woke up an hour or so later. He looked up through the window to see a small crowd gathering in his neighbor's living room. Her lamp had been swapped for blue-purple ambient lighting and a glittering "Happy Birthday Alexa" sign was thrown up on the wall. He could see a bit less than twenty people squeezed into her apartment milling around, chatting, swaying to music. It was getting a little hot with so many bodies squeezed in one room. Ethan's neighbor stepped out of her apartment and onto the walkway with a friend, a shorter girl with wavy, jet-black hair. They sat down on the stairs and he saw her pull out a pack and light a cigarette. She had put on ruby red lipstick. The light on her walkway was broken, and the two friends were only lit by the purple light from her living room and the glowing ember being passed between their lips. Ethan saw the cigarette stained red from her lips and groaned in frustration. He pulled out Tinder and began swiping desperately, but to no avail. He peered over his phone and watched the smoke blowing around her head. He felt some movement in his boxers, so he walked into his bedroom with some embarrassment to blow off steam before bed. He must not have realized how tired he was, because as soon as he laid down with a box of tissue on his bedside table his eyelids felt like they were weighted down. He fought his sleepiness as he opened his phone to find a good video to watch. As he looked for the right video his neighbor began waltzing into his head. Her stained lips, her cheek in his hand, her begging eyes. He could almost feel her hand reaching out to grab him. His eyes drew closed and his phone fell onto the bed as he drifted to sleep.

As soon as Ethan's eyes closed, he felt his body slowly sinking through his bed. His eyes sprung open, but rather than seeing his bedroom ceiling, total darkness surrounded him. He tried to sit up but he felt like he didn't feel a bed beneath him--he just felt an invincible buoyancy keeping him upright. It felt like he was in a pool of thick, heavy water. He felt that he should be terrified, but it was like his panic was covered in a heavy blanket of calm and he could only feel a mild curiosity about his situation. This must be a dream, he was just laying in bed a moment ago, but he had never had a lucid dream before and he wasn't sure this was what it felt like.

"This isn't an ordinary dream, lucid or otherwise", a slow, deep voice answered, "You're in a place higher than normal dreams, Ethan".

"Who are you? Where am I then?"

"I'll tell you what you need to know if you listen. This is the fabric that all dreams are woven from. The net that holds them in. We're in a space very near near to your world. The crawlspace above the ceiling and below the floor. Where your minds go to rest. Watch."

As the voice commanded, Ethan saw the darkness recede as if a bag was slowly pulled off his head, and he saw the city below him. He could feel his own presence, but as he held his hands up to his face he saw nothing. A few feet in front of him was a pale-faced man wearing a gray monotone outfit of jeans, a trucking jacket, and baseball cap. They were both floating hundreds of feet above LA, but as Ethan looked around he noticed a strange silence.

"This is the city as it sleeps. Look around, feel how quiet it is here."

Ethan noticed that the city below him was totally still. The streets were empty, nobody was on the sidewalk, and even the dogs were silent. All he could hear was wind and the buzz of streetlights.

"Don't be afraid that you can't see your body. You can take whatever shape you'd like here, as it suits you. I left your form empty for now, but choose what shape suits you for now."

Ethan thought for a moment about the body he saw in the mirror every morning, and without realizing, he looked back down and realized that he was floating in the sky, his head attached to his torso. He felt his face, his hair, his legs. He thought for a moment about what the voice had said, and imagined how he would look with another two inches of height. He blinked and didn't feel a change.

The man laughed dryly, "It's hard to tell without a point of reference, but you did grow a bit. Like I said, whatever shape you want you can have here."

"But that's not the important thing. Look below you. In most of those houses down there is a sleeping body. It's about three in the morning."

Ethan and the man quickly descended to hover a few yards above the rooftops. Ethan realized he was seeing his apartment complex from above. As they continued to descend Ethan braced for impact on the asphalt roof, but they drifted straight through the roof as if it didn't exist. He saw himself asleep in bed, sprawled out with his phone on his belly and his hand in his boxers. He cringed and looked away quickly.

"Don't worry. I can watch everyone's sleeping body and yours is not unusual."

The man bent down, touched Ethan's head, and spoke, "While your body sleeps, your mind wanders. But it's bound right here. If you were dreaming now, I could reach down and into your private dreamscape. Of course, your mind is instead here with me. The dreaming mind is a vulnerable thing, Ethan. People like to protect their conscious minds, their ego, with stubbornness. But plant seeds in their subconscious, and you can puppet their conscious mind without their notice. Show a man dreams of his wife cheating and he may be moved to paranoia, even violence. Show him the same dream with a different framing and instead he may develop an sexual fixation on such an infidelity."

The man pointed forward, and the pair floated through Ethan's walls out into the courtyard.

"I see your interest in Alexandra, you've dreamt of her many times. I need not repeat myself, but I've seen millions of dreams and there's no shame in attraction. It's perfectly natural for someone like yourself."

The pair began to drift through his neighbor's front door and towards her bedroom. They slowed to a stop in front of the bedroom door. The pale man gestured towards the door, which hung slightly ajar.

"I'm giving you a great gift, Ethan. A fraction of my power to tug on the strings that bind the conscious mind. When you shut your eyes to sleep, if you will it, you can visit this place again. And if you wish to alter anyone's dreamscape however you like, you may. Whisper in their ear while they sleep, change their beliefs, their desires, bind their will as you please. Follow your urges, do what you desire, the choice is all yours. What you will do is your choice and yours alone."

Ethan was stunned. He peered through the doorway. He turned around and saw the gray man start to slowly become more transparent, as if he was melting into the hallway shadow. Ethan had so many questions.

He called out, "Wait! Before you go, why me? What am I supposed to do?"

As the man continued to fade away, he smiled and replied, "I'm a being of balance. I enjoy tampering with your world, but I keep a light touch. It's a policy of mine that if I push the scales in one way, I must push the other way as well. If I nudge a few people to temperance, I push some to embrace their animal urges as well. As for you, do what you will. I'm no moral police, just an entertained observer. Goodnight, Ethan."

Ethan stood alone in Alexandra's apartment. He looked around at the cups strewn on the floor, a few empty bottles of prosecco, and streamers. Through the doorway, he could see Alexandra asleep on her bed. Her black heels were thrown on the floor, but she still had on a black sequined dress that clung to her body. He had only seen her briefly before, passing on the walkway or in the parking garage, or from a distance through his window. He took in every inch of her body. Her skin was perfect and smooth even though she was clearly wasted. She was slim but soft. As her chest shifted with her breathing, he could see how well her breasts fell from her neckline--full but proportionate. Her waist was slender and flowed into her hips. Her short dress had slid up her legs. Her thighs creased at her hips and had a beautiful curve. He looked down and saw her butt from underneath the sheet. It was medium in size but was perfectly round and fit her hips and thighs exactly.

Ethan was overcome with lust. He wanted to rip her dress off right there, but he felt himself being pulled back. He needed to be patient. He took a moment to think about that the pale-faced man had told him. The world was his to take. He needed to take his time. Ethan bent over her sleeping body, touched her forehead, and felt himself fall forward into her dreamscape.