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Nightmare Factory

Posted on 2006.06.04 at 04:57
Tags: , , , , , , , ,
Shakespeare said, "We are such stuff as dreams are made of," and for those of us who have surrendered to our Muse, we know the truth of his words.  When it comes to writing horror, I would paraphrase the bard by saying, "We are such stuff as nightmares are made of."  The vast majority of horrifying imagery that appears in my writing is drawn directly from my nightmares.   Sometimes the images come in flashes, but most the time my dreams unfold with a full-blown narrative structure--not the kaleidoscope of fragments I am told most people experience.  This particular nightmare left me trembling, convulsing, and even more frightening, aroused.  I wrote it down while it was fresh in my mind and asked my dearest friend, M.M. what it meant.  She said, "Well it's obvious.  It's about you giving in to your writing."  The beasts, the masks, the baroque, the transformations, the sexual permutations, the theme of explicit voyeurism associated with putting art on display--I think M.M. knows me too well.   It's of course also about wish fulfillment, and refusing to be bound by conventional perceptions.  So welcome to my nightmare, the second one I've posted on this blog, and feel free to analyze it any way you please.  Now that it's up for public scrutiny, it no longer owns me.  

But be warned, dear reader--If explicit violent or sexual content offends you, I beg you, read no further.    I dredge up the dark stuff from dreams like this, and this is about as raw and bizarre as it gets.

Enter the Beast

I stood in the foyer of a southern plantation mansion, the walls cracked and water stained and the wooden floor scuffed and covered with dust. At first I thought I was alone, but slowly the sounds of a party rose in volume from the parlor. I gazed up at an enormous, leaded glass chandelier and saw dust shake loose from the crystals. Again the chandelier shook, and this time I heard the tinkle of glass. The chandelier began to swing, as if something heavy trampled across the floor above. I strode into the parlor where a dozen somber men and women were gathered in elegant ballroom gowns and evening wear. Their clothes too looked dusty, as if they had hung in closets for years. Several of the celebrants wore porcelain animal masks, Japanese in style. One man wore the face of a pig, a woman the face of a goat, another man wore the face of a dog, and still another woman wore the sly face of a Siamese cat. They laughed, and those without masks exchanged knowing looks. Some of the women whispered with their faces half-veiled by black, lace fans. Others sipped red wine from crystal goblets. The chandelier in the parlor was even larger than the one in the foyer, and lit with a constellation of candles. I wore a tuxedo that looked as if it had been tailored in the twenties, and approached the center of the room. No one seemed to notice I was there.

Then the hostess called to me from the top of a marble staircase and slowly descended to meet me. She wore a red satin gown that swelled around her enormous breasts and hips. Beneath her gown I could see her waist was cinched in a corset. Her black hair, piled in coils, crowned her moon-shaped face and spiraled down her cheeks. She was in her late twenties, a head shorter than me, but with the high heels she wore her eyes were nearly level with my own. She told me she was glad I had finally arrived, offered her hand, and invited me to follow her upstairs. I clasped her hand and together we mounted the staircase. Several guests noticed us now and the whispers behind the fans swelled like the buzz from a hornet’s nest. A couple of the men smiled, and the man with the dog mask leaned over and whispered in the ear of the cat-faced woman. Her slender body twisted inside her black, velvet gown. When we reached the landing, I gazed down and saw that the guests were filling china plates from a banquet table. The centerpiece of the banquet was a huge, roasted pig’s head wreathed by clusters of black grapes. The hostess led me up another flight of stairs and into a barren room. Red velvet drapes were pulled back from the floor to ceiling windows.

The hostess shut the door, held both my hands, and led me to the center of the room. "Finally you have come to me," she purred. "This is the real party." She leaned forward to kiss me and I returned her kiss. Our mouths pressed more tightly and her ham hock arms wrapped around my waist. I kissed her more passionately, left a trail of kisses down her neck, and then kissed her enormous, white breasts. Blue veined and powdered, they pushed up like mountains from her corset. She unfastened my bow tie and unbuttoned my shirt. I slid her sleeves off her shoulders and saw that her pink nipples were the size of silver dollars. I tossed my shirt on the floor and kicked off my shoes, my movements growing more frenzied as my arousal peaked. I spun her around, unlaced her corset and tossed it aside. She turned to me and I teased the nubs of her nipples with my tongue. She gasped and moaned, clutching my hair in her hands. As I rose to kiss her scarlet lips, I noticed her eyes were focused on the shadowed corner of the room. I tried to follow her gaze, but she gripped my cheeks between her hands and kissed me even more fiercely. I tugged free and looked into the corner. A man’s polished black shoes shone in the V-shaped wedge of shadow. "Someone’s watching!" I panted. I knew that the intimacy we shared was forbidden. "Of course there is," she told me. She seemed surprised that I didn’t know..

The man stepped out of the shadows, and I saw it was the man with the dog mask. He approached, but didn’t stray far from the corner.

"My husband," the woman said.

"But how did he get up here?" I asked.

She smiled but didn’t answer my question.

"Jesus, " I gasped. "He probably wants to kill us!"

She shook her head and whispered, "He likes to watch." The man gave a faint smile and lowered to his haunches. The woman turned me toward her and massaged my deflating cock through my pants. "It’s okay," she told me. "This is why you’re here." I tried to pull away and she pressed her breasts against me. "Let go. Give in. Take what you came for."

I glanced again at her husband, passive in the corner like a well-trained pet, and began to kiss her again, tentatively at first, then with greater fervor. We grew more passionate, the world narrowing down until my focus was entirely on her, on her hands stroking my chest, on my lips once again rousing her nipples to hardness. I felt hands working at my belt, pulling down my zipper, reaching inside and hauling out my now rigid shaft. But the hands were strong and calloused, and her hands were on my back. I looked down and saw that her husband had taken me out, and was offering my flesh to her caress. Startled, I tried to back away and bumped into his bulk. "No!’ I blurted against her lips. "I didn’t come for this!"

She laughed then and I shrugged her off, shoving her husband out of the way. "Don’t you care?" I yelled at the man. "This is your fucking wife!"

The dog-faced man retreated to the corner. "Not mine," he told me. "You think I could possess her?"

His response left me dumbfounded. "What do you mean?" I asked.

He shrugged. "I’m just grateful that she allows me to witness this."

I turned back to the woman and saw that her eyes were glowing, her irises like black flames in pools of molten silver. She shoved me onto the floor with the palms of her hands, pushing with such force that I slid across the dusty floorboards. Then she stripped off her skirt, and fell on me with her breasts dangling over my face. Her flabby thighs pressed between my legs and her belly pushed the wind out of me. I clutched her shoulders, trying to shove her off. When I squeezed her arms yellow fat oozed from the skin. I shrieked and fought even harder to escape, trying to grasp her suddenly slick arms. But the more I tried, the more fat squeezed out like soft butter. She sighed with my caresses as if my struggles to escape were thrusts deep inside her. I squeezed her unctuous limbs, and with every stoke her arms grew more slender. Horrified, but amazed, I kneaded her breasts like mounds of clay. Pounds of fat sloughed from her pores and fell on my chest in melting clods. Her breast reduced to swollen peaks--a young man’s fantasy of a perfect pair of breasts. I stroked her face and her jowls oozed. They shrank, revealing high cheekbones and a beautiful face. Throughout this greasy milking process, she humped against my flaccid loins and moaned. She was so beautiful, terrifying in her beauty, but I couldn’t separate the newly-revealed woman from the grotesque rendering. All around me the fat melted and pooled on the floor.

Her moans became more animal, devolved into snarls, and from those slender limbs hair sprouted in forests. Her lean face elongated, with long canines pushing from her jaws. Delicate ears grew pointed and her irises turned gold. Sharp clawed sprouted from hands that stretched into paws. Fur rose in a stripe from her crotch and spread across her breasts. The woman’s facial bones cracked as a snout pushed from her skull. She had become a lean, muscled beast, her breasts still swollen with arousal. Her growls lost all vestige of humanity, rising from deep within her throat. She sniffed at me and spread her enormous jaws over my face. I felt her breath heat my cheeks, then gasped as she slowly raked her claws down my heaving chest.

"Are you afraid?" she growled. "Do you feel the terror?"

I wasn’t sure if she said the words or if I heard them in my head. How could she talk with the throat and tongue of a wolf? My heart pounded so loud that I knew she must hear it. I was terrified, but awe was quickly eclipsing my fear. Her transformation filled me with wonder, as if I had seen the face of God. She leaned closer, her jaws stretching wide, waiting for an answer. I knew if I succumbed to my fear, she would shear my face from my skull. If I lied, she would still kill me, only more slowly. "Yes," I whispered. "I am afraid. But you’re beautiful...so beautiful..."

I reached up and cupped her hairy breasts. She reared back like a dog catching a whiff of an unpleasant scent. Then she lowered her brow and cocked her head.

"So beautiful," I whispered again. "So pure." I caressed her furrowed brow, stroked her pointed ears. With her clawed hands she shredded my pants, and ran a black claw from my asshole up the seam of my scrotum. I sucked in a breath and released it in shudders. She looked puzzled, watching for evidence of terror on my face--a red flag to signal my readiness for slaughter. I stared at her, rubbing between her ears--"Beautiful. Goddess." She hiked up my legs and buried her face, lapping my ass with her long, wet tongue. She nuzzled my balls, raked them with her fangs, and pushed her tongue inside me. I gasped with pleasure and arched my back, pressing her tongue deeper. My cock throbbed against my belly, my scrotum pulling tight against the base.

She looked up from between my legs.  Her feral face softened, becoming almost human. Then she stood and retreated several steps. Her golden eyes turned ebony. "You see beauty here?" she growled.  A look of terrible sadness filled her eyes. "You see my beauty..." She sounded as if I had honored her more than she deserved

She slowly ran her clawed hands over her breasts.. Before my eyes her dripping vulvae--pink lips like wet leaves clutched in a wedge of fur--curled up within her leaving the clitoris exposed. Her breast shrank and grew square, losing fur even as the male eclipsed the female. The clitoris swelled and became the head of a lengthening shaft of flesh. The vulvae blossomed beneath the shaft like an unfurling orchid and sealed over the testes that descended from her pelvis. "This is what you came for," he said.   "I can be whatever animal you want." The beast still had a wolf’s head, but the eyes were human now--a man’s eyes, at once feral and gentle. And those deep-set brown eyes--I knew them in my soul.

"Any animal you want," he repeated, "if you find the animal beautiful." He crouched on all fours, hands still elongated into paws, but now his torso was sparsely haired with the exception of the black pelt that crowned his jutting cock. A mane of shiny black hair covered his head. He crawled on top of me and this time I hoisted my legs of my own accord. The beast with the gentle eyes leaned down until his forehead pressed against my own. I swallowed and gasped as he penetrated me. He thrust with slow, deep strokes, slowly building speed. Our pants of breath grew synchronized as he buried himself inside me, filling me with the wolf, with the animal, and with the man inside the animal. The joy of it broke me and reduced me to a beast. I locked my legs around his hips; clutched his sides and felt his ribs straining beneath his pale skin and muscle. Still our foreheads pressed together. I closed my eyes, weeping, and erupted as I felt the sudden gush of his seed inside me. I heard his howl, a cry of joy, and he collapsed on my chest. I wrapped my arms around him, (the woman, the beast, the man)not knowing where my flesh ended and where his began.


C.Rae for Today
rae_too_serious at 2006-06-06 01:42 (UTC) (Link)
Your dream reminds me of the dream I had that I told you about one night as we sat outside.
(Anonymous) at 2006-06-09 22:52 (UTC) (Link)
Wow is all I can say! Some might consider a dream like that horrid, but the way you delivered it is beautiful. I'm glad I had a chance to read it.
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