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Dreamed 1987/6/17 by Chris Wayan


Well, it's Night 11 of my campaign to learn lucid dreaming. I've pretty much failed ten times in a row, but I'm not giving up. It took two weeks before I started having flying dreams...

So, for the ELEVENTH TIME...

Dream induction: "Tonight I'll go lucid, have sex with someone I like, and then fly somewhere interesting together." I say it over and over as I'm falling asleep. Will my dreams listen?


I'm wandering alone through a depopulated world. Not a war--technology just crashed, and most city people couldn't survive on their own. A rusty, half-empty world, slowly recovering.

I meet a hillbilly family with several daughters. I'm sometimes male, sometimes female. Either way, I think they're hot. But I have a rival for these sisters: a chic Lipstick Lesbian who is a bit nasty under her glamour. She wears revealing clothes with holes artfully simulating scrapes and tears. My scrapes and scars aren't artful--just real. Lipstick is pretty sexy herself, but I don't like her. We both flirt with the daughters... and to my surprise, I win one over, a girl called Love. Wow, we fuck like crazy! Despite her name, it isn't romantic love exactly--too practical and desperate (really, how many choices will we have for mates in this lonely world?)--but we like and understand each other. I do feel a bit guilty that I'm still a bit hot for her little sisters (even for my wicked chic rival). Mmmm, so cute... but most of them are straight, and in this depopulated world, my girlfriend's probably the only other lesbian but Lipstick in the whole damn county. Good thing the lust is mutual...

We communicate so well, we start leading this group together. They need it. How can we survive in this post-crash environment? This family's mom has always dominated the clan, and she doesn't like an outsider, even a girl, strolling in and sleeping with her daughter(s) and stealing their love.

So she sets me up--puts me in a situation where I'll be "seduced" by her big, burly brother. I watch how he manipulates me into it. Seduction? Close to rape! The dream's merciful--I observe myself as if it's a movie, rather than truly live in my body, as he fucks me. Not violent or truly painful--just blah. And embarrassing I'd fall for his guy-lies. I won't do this again!

Then the family matriarch orders Big Brother to take me to visit Grandpa upstairs. A helpless, bodiless witness, I watch the two of them drag me off kicking and cursing. Mom says loudly, sarcastically "Gramp's the only one around here she won't try to fuck!" Oh! This isn't just to punish me--Mom's trying to give me a bad reputation. I'm an utter slut. Right. I dream I'm split into two girls, one making love on the floor, the other coming downstairs, having been raped by Grampa.

Ironic--her daughters are all just as lonely and horny as I am, and I think it's in reaction to her warnings about Bad Girls. In fact, as I watch myself being dragged off, it gets me and Love quite hot to think what a Bad Girl I am, fucking whoever I please, girl or boy, and I form another body, and Love and I lie side-by-side on our tummies, fingers slipping inside, rubbing against each other and giggling wickedly as we come, looking up nervously at Grandpa's landing--half-daring him and Mom to notice us, confront us.

But it's silent up in Grandpa's room. We hope he's not punishing my other self too hard.

Upstairs Me comes down at last, naked, dripping, and furious. Grampa didn't sweet-talk me, didn't seduce me, didn't lie to me. He raped me.

And Mom knew he would. He's a brutal clueless old patriarch who figures he's entitled to fuck anyone he wants. And every cop in the world is dead, so what can I do? Leave? Kill him?

Killing Mom might be smarter. Know thine enemy.

Ironic! Mom wants to scare her kids away from even thinking about sex, so they won't shift their loyalties from her to lovers. But exactly because Mom condemns sex so loudly (in a world with a guy shortage! adding insult to injury) her kids think about sex constantly. Unerotic, even ANTI-erotic things like rape feel hot to them--they grasp at sexual straws. Or girls. Like me.

Grampa doesn't matter. I'm only bruised, and I'll fight him off if he tries it again, now that I'm warned. Unlike the shy, fragile waking-world me, this dream-me is quite secure about my sexuality, and I see no point in letting the old monster rattle me.

After all, Grampa was just a weapon. Grampa got aimed. This is Mom's game. And fearing him means Mom wins. I won't let her take sex from me. I won't let her take her daughter from me!

Her daughter, Love.


Well! Despite getting raped, I came close to the dream induction for the first time! Sure explains why I've been so slow to get results. Strong forces against me!

The dream reflects the incestuous hothouse atmosphere of my real family in some ways. But it's way more extreme--all loud, primary colors.

A fucked-up scenario, but... I do go for what I want, no matter what the price. And... what I want is Love. So in the long run I'm going to win.

2001 NOTE

The dream-grampa looked a bit like my paternal grandfather. I was standoffish toward him. He never really lost his temper or did anything scary, but I kept him at arm's length without even realizing it--though he felt hurt and puzzled and asked how he'd offended me. I couldn't explain, tried to warm up to him, and just couldn't.

It was years AFTER this dream that I learned... he'd groped one of my sisters. She kept quiet about it until long after she was grown--and he was safely dead.

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