DREAM STEALER REVISITED

DREAM STEALER REVISITED Chapter One.

The bookshop was surprisingly crowded, considering that it specialised in erotica, especially of a BDSM nature. Waiting for a book signing, Richard browsed one of the shelves and reached for a book. To his surprise and embarrassment, his fingers grabbed a woman's hand instead. "Oh, I'm so sorry," he said.

The woman gave him a brilliant smile. "Assuming you were reaching for the book and not attacking me, I think I can forgive you."

"No, I mean it was the book, definitely. It's just that the book's title, 'Clit Stings', grabbed my attention, but I um … grabbed you instead. Not that I'm some kind of pervert." Richard grinned. "Well, given that I'm here and looking up books on female genital torture, I am a pervert, at least to some extent."

She giggled. "Yes, I agree. I love the idea of having my clitoris stung. And that's just the beginning of what I'd like to happen to it. I'm Sally."

Richard held out his hand. "Richard. I hope you don't mind me speaking so frankly about the book."

She shook his hand. "Not at all. I actually came here to have a look at this book. I've heard good things about it." Sally lifted the book off of the shelf and browsed through the pages, then nodded. "It does look interesting. Pity my budget doesn't allow for another book at the moment. Besides, I've got a stack of books in my TBR list. Here, you have it. Perhaps I can borrow it sometime."

"Sure. Whenever you like. Let me give you my number." He didn't want to seem as if he was trying to get her number, so he fished a business card out of his pocket and handed it to her.

"Counsellor," Sally said, reading the card. "Any speciality?" she asked with a grin, nodding towards the book.

"As it happens, yes," Richard said. "I specialise in sexual paraphilias, or emotional problems related to them."

"Well, it was nice meeting you Richard," she said. "I need to be going."

Richard waggled his fingers at her as she walked away, then he turned his attention back to the book.

***

When he stepped out onto the street clutching his new purchase, he noticed a small crowd gathered around a crumpled figure on the pavement. He heard a man and woman talking. "They just found her like that. Nobody saw what happened." Richard moved closer, and realised it was Sally. He pushed forward and knelt beside her, and his heart jumped into his throat when he saw the blood. He checked her pulse, and was relieved to find it beating strongly. Her head lolled to one side and she moaned. Before he could do anything else, the ambulance arrived, and he was pushed aside by the paramedics. He watched sadly as she was loaded aboard the ambulance, which rushed away, sirens blaring. With a sigh he turned and walked towards the Tube station. He didn't even know her full name. His shoe kicked something, and he paused to look down. It was a broach or pin, probably fallen off a passing pedestrian. He started to walk away, but something made him pause. Then he bent, and picked the shiny metal piece up and put it in his pocket without really knowing why.

Chapter Two.

Her name was Sally Allinson. Richard learned this from a news video the next morning. She was also in a coma, although her injuries were apparently not life-threatening. He made a mental note to check up on her progress, then went on about his life. Switching to his client database, he confirmed his appointments for the day. Using his ability to enter and control dreams he had become a very successful counsellor, and he had more potential clients than he could handle. His wide network of contacts and clients also facilitated his extracurricular activities, although he was careful never to directly involve his clients in his sexual escapades.

***

That night, as he got into bed, he checked that the coin the god Eros had given him was lying on his chest. He'd had it mounted in a gold frame and turned into a pendant so that it never left his possession. He was asleep within moments of closing his eyes, and his mind soared through the night. Contact with something the person had touched was only necessary once, and he had visited Debbie's dreams a number of times now. This night, Debbie was just walking down the street, in one of those random, meaningless dreams everyone has. With an effort of will, he took control, and everything snapped into sharp focus.

Debbie shook herself, coming alert, and looked around. She spotted Richard, and a smile lit up her face. Glancing down at herself, she raised her hands and turned them in front of her face. She could tell she was the way she had looked in her twenties. She even felt young again. "Richard! I've missed you," she said with a happy smile.

Richard gave her a hug in the now empty street. He could have populated it with the equivalent of NPCs, but it would have been pointless. "How are you doing? Any improvement on the home front?"

Debbie's face saddened, and she shook her head. "No, he's the same. Reg is a good man, you know that, but I get so frustrated …" Her voice trailed off, and then she brightened up. "But here I can be the me I want to be, and I don't have to feel guilty about it. What about you?"

"The usual. Well, almost," he said, and then told her about Sally. There had been dozens of people on the street, so he wasn't worried that Debbie might identify him somehow.

Debbie covered her mouth with her hand. "I saw her being brought in, but being there and talking to her just before the accident must have been awful." Debbie worked part-time at the local hospital.

"Could you keep an eye on her condition for me?"

"Do you think you could help her recover from the coma?" Debbie asked.

"I don't know. Besides, she might wake up tomorrow," Richard said. He hadn't actually considered using his dream powers to help Sally, but now that Debbie had brought up the idea, he would consider it. If she didn't wake up, at least he could try to discover if she was still intact mentally. Then he waved his hand dismissively. "But I'm not here for Sally. Are you up for a little play?" He liked Debbie, and unlike some of the other women whose dreams he visited, he would never force her into anything, even in her dreams.

Debbie blushed, then nodded. "I always feel a bit guilty, but god, I need to let off some sexual steam, or I think I'll burst. I know I'm getting a bit grumpy with Reg. I'd never cheat on him, but this …" she waved her hand around her, "… isn't real."

Richard smiled. "No it isn't. Would you like to go anywhere in particular?" He could create any dream environment he desired, even places he had never seen himself. It was just part of the coin's magic.

"Somewhere by the sea?"

Richard snapped his fingers, and suddenly Debbie was wearing a floral print sun dress with a short skirt and sandals. Another snap, and they were standing on a tropical beach with crystal blue water, seagulls, and a luxury cabana complete with bar and snacks. There was also a wide variety of S&M gear laid out in tasteful wooden shelves and cabinets.

Debbie cried out in delight. "May I?" she said, pointing at the water. When he smiled and nodded, she kicked off her sandals and ran for the sea.

Richard watched her gambol in the waves, enjoying her happiness. He would have encouraged her to get a divorce, but he knew she would never deprive her children of a proper family, or hurt Reg for no other reason except than because he had a different sexuality than her.

When she came back, she hugged him. "Thank you for this," she said, waving her arms around her. "You know I'd have sex with you even without …" She waved her arms again.

"You're my friend, not some random pick up. I wish I could do more, but —"

She put her finger on his lips. "I understand. You have no reason to devote your time to me. With your ability, there must be millions of women who would do anything to spend dream time with you. I really thought I'd never see you again after the first time."

He shook is head. "It's not just that. It wouldn't be good for you either. You'd begin to resent your real life if you knew I would be here every night."

She sighed and nodded. "I know." Then she grinned. "But since you're here —" she trailed off teasingly, and glanced over at the cabana. She took his hand and walked with him into the building. "It always amazes me. I can even smell the flowers and the sea. I can feel the salt on my legs." With that, she bent over, flipped her short skirt over her waist, placed her hands on the bed, and shuffled her feet apart. She knew Richard always excluded knickers from any outfit he provided, so she just arched her back down and pushed her pussy out at him. From experience, both real and dream, she was aware that her arsehole was clearly exposed, and the slight bend of her knees caused her cunt lips to part, exposing her vaginal opening. "I'm trying to show you my holes. Do you like what you see?" This was a new position, something she had worked on in her imagination. It made her feel — exposed, vulnerable. She liked it. But it was important that Richard liked it too. Then she felt his breath brush the sensitive skin between her legs, and she tensed.

"I like it very much. You're lovely down there. That's a marvellous pose. Do you know that your vagina is open? I bet if I shine a torch inside, I could see your cervix."

Debbie smiled, pleased. "Yes. I've been working on that, learning the muscle control to really open it up. I guessed you'd like it." She was breathing harder, and her face felt warm. "I'd like to be able to stay open when you — do things to me."

"You're getting there." Then he reached in with both hands, and spread her outer labia wide. He leaned forward, pursed his lips, and blew teasingly on her exposed inner lips, making her shiver. "You're very wet. Naughty, naughty."

"I guess my bad pussy should be punished then." She inhaled. "Punished a lot." She knew she sounded like something out of a bad porn novel, but she liked saying it. She moaned in delight when a strong hand grabbed her cunt and squeezed hard. "Oh yes. Do it. Use my pussy." She pushed back at him, trying to get his fingers into her. "Spank it hard."

"I will." He slid a finger in, then probed and dug around forcefully, deliberately hurting her.

Debbie rocked and twisted her hips, almost twerking, as she worked in counterpoint to his fingers. There was a huge grin on her face in response to this deliberate abuse of her genitals. She loved the feeling of helplessness and of having her pussy used for the pleasure of someone else. When the finger withdrew from her cunt hole, she braced her legs and held her breath. "Smack!" The impact rocked her body forward, and heat ignited and flared bright between her legs. She cried out in a sharp wail and rocked her hips from side to side, dancing to the music of the hot stinging sensation. The finger returned to her vagina, but she knew it wasn't over. It pulled out again with a plop, and she braced. His palm slammed into her pussy again, filling her vulva with pain and jolting her uterus. "That's it! Beat my pussy. Spank it hard." Her legs were shaking now, and she had to lean harder on the bed with both arms to keep her balance.

She felt fingers digging into her slit, and they curled and began to pull, stretching her open. She tried to hold the pose, but she couldn't control the spasming of her vaginal muscles. Pushing off of the bed, she placed her hands on her thighs, and spread her legs even wider apart so that she was half squatting. Although her dream body was young and tight, she still knew what it was like to give birth, and the remembered agony of her cervix and vagina being stretched until they threatened to tear, made her pussy tingle under the pressure of his fingers. She grimaced, and her mouth opened in a silent yell as his fingers continued to pull, violently stretching her vaginal opening. It hurt, a lot, but it was also extremely satisfying. She loved having her pussy handled roughly and abused. Done right, the pain was just so amazingly good. And Richard had discovered that she had no limits. He could do whatever he wanted to her, and she would take it all. In this dream world, she didn't have to worry about injury or disfigurement.

Richard smiled as he watched Debbie rock and dance, her body twisting in response to his ministrations. He dug his fingers into her intimate flesh, dragging and clawing at her vaginal orifice, as if determined to tear her vagina apart. He grinned as she moaned and shuddered in pain, but continued to offer her cunt to him regardless of what he did to her. She was such a sweet woman, and he admired her strength and courage. Then he slapped her cunt hard several times, the crack of his palm on her wet labia filling the air, and she cried out and rocked back.

Debbie shook herself and stood up, turning to grin at him. "That was — stimulating." Her pussy burned, and she could feel the way his fingernails had scratched and torn her skin, including inside her vagina, but that wasn't bad. In fact, she liked it. "I'm glad you're not being gentle."

"Are you very sore? I can do some healing if …"

"No," she said sharply, and shook her head. "I'll tell you if I'm in too much pain. But right now, I want to feel it. After all, I don't have to worry about infection or scars." She wasn't lying. The soreness between her legs made her intensely aware of her pussy, and she was getting horny as hell. Her breasts were swollen and hot, and her nipples throbbed against the thin material of her sun dress. She looked down at herself and stuck out one bare leg. "I was pretty hot."

"You're still pretty hot," Richard said gallantly.

"Flattery will get you everywhere, especially here," she said, and lifted the front of her skirt to bare her crotch. "Don't hold back. Use me. Use my pussy however you like. I want it." Then she dropped her skirt and cupped her breasts. "Oh, I'm being selfish. Would you like to do my nipples? I remember you like hurting them too." When he nodded she smiled and slipped the thin straps of her dress off of her shoulders and pushed the top of her dress down, baring her breasts. "Here, let me make them hard and stiff for you to play with." She fondled and squeezed her tits, her fingers digging into her soft flesh as she mauled and abused her boobs. The nipples thickened and began to hurt, and she pinched them hard, making herself wince, but that only made her hornier.

With a thought, Richard made a thin, whippy cane appear in his hand. He slapped it against his leg. "Now then, young lady, let's cane those pretty nipples of yours. Hands behind your neck, elbows back. Ten on each nipple, I think. If I miss, or you flinch, it doesn't count." He brushed her quivering nipples with the smooth, cool shaft of the cane.

Debbie inhaled, lifting her breasts, as her stiff nipples tingled. They had always been very sensitive, and she knew the cane would be incredibly painful. The thought made her pussy clench hard, and she wondered if she could come simply from having her breasts caned. "My nipples are ready, sir," she said, breathless with excitement. The cane pulled back, and she tried to stand very still. When the cane cut into her left nipple, she screamed and jerked forward, as the pain stabbed like a hot needle into her brain. Her body shuddered as she panted through the hurt, and then she straightened up and put her hands behind her neck again.

"Good girl. You took that well."

She grinned. "I have a high tolerance for pain. But it hurt a lot." The smile disappeared when the cane sliced into her other nipple, making her scream and jerk again. But she held her pose, and took each searing whack of the cane across her nipples in determined silence, although her eyes glistened with tears. She grinned when the last stroke cut across her swollen, reddened nipple. Her breasts were covered with deep red stripes that overlapped each other, emanating from both sides of her nipples like the whiskers of a demon cat.

Richard studied her swaying, sweat covered body for a moment, then brushed his hands over her breasts. The bruising and swelling immediately subsided, although the nipples remained stiff and more swollen than normal. "The bruising was getting ugly. I didn't do anything about the pain, though. Is it too bad?"

Still breathing heavily, Debbie shook her head. "It was bad when you were hitting me, but it's all right now. I want to feel it. I want to feel and remember all of it." She tugged at the dress. "Can I put this back on, or do you want to look at my boobs?"

"It's a pretty dress. It would be a shame to have it hanging around your waist like that. But first …" He bent and gently kissed each of her nipples.

Debbie giggled as she adjusted the dress. "Your attention is going to be focused somewhere else anyway, I expect."

"You're not wrong. Sit on the edge of the bed and open up for me. I just want to have a look. I really do like your cunt a lot, you know," Richard said. He waited until Debbie sat down, leaned back on her arms, and spread her knees wide. Then he lowered himself onto the thick sheepskin rug in front of her crotch. He flicked her skirt up around her waist, and then placed his hands on her inner thighs, stroking and feeling the fine smooth texture of her skin. He snapped his fingers and a pile of pillows appeared behind her, supporting her back. "Hold your knees up and open, please." He waited until she had done as he asked before leaning forward and pulling her outer labia apart. "That is so pretty," he said reverently.

"You really think so?" Debbie asked, feeling pleased and happy. Her husband Reg never paid her pussy the kind of attention that she craved. The way Richard was examining her pussy aroused and excited her beyond words. She imagined his eyes and fingers searching out all the most secret and sensitive parts of her pussy, and looking for the best ways to both stimulate and to torture it. "That tickles!" she gasped when his fingertip circled her clitoris. A rush of warmth flooded her loins, and she wanted him to explore every part of her genitals. "Do you have something to spread me open, like the speculum that doctors use? I want you to see my cervix and all my insides. And if you like, you can do stuff to me there as well."

"Stuff?" he said, amused.

"Stuff. Anything you like. Draw smiley faces, poke it with sticks, or even — bad things, scary things." She nodded emphatically. "Have fun with my genitals. I know it will be all gone when I wake, so I'm up for anything. Needles, knives, hot things. Do bad things to my womb if you like." His fingers delved into her vagina again, and she loved how he just felt around inside with no concern for her comfort or pleasure … which turned her on immensely.

Richard smiled as he listened to her, and nodded. "All right then. I'll go fetch some things that might amuse me. You stay here." He wagged his finger at her and grinned. Of course, he didn't really have to fetch anything, but he wanted her to have the time to think about what he might be getting. He returned with a silver tray covered with a white napkin, which he placed on the bed beside her, and then resumed the examination of her cunt. "I'm going to open you up wide in a moment, but let me enjoy your clit first."

"Are you going to do something awful to it?" she asked breathlessly. Images of her clit being crushed, stabbed with needles, and all manner of other horrific damage flashed through her mind. "I fantasise about having my clit dreadfully tortured all the time. It might not make sense, but I have fantasies of being made to masturbate my clit while it is being hurt, damaged, even destroyed, at the same time. Being required to come while screaming in pain excites me more than anything." She licked her lips. "I'd love to give a show to an audience, where I stand on a stage and masturbate while my genitals are being hurt and damaged. But it has to be done elegantly, if that makes sense. Not just bashing it or hacking it up. The torture should be beautiful, delicate, and I would describe it to the audience as it happens, in between screams and moans of pleasure. I would try to have as many orgasms as possible before my pussy is too damaged for me to come any more, and the people would clap and cheer." She shook her head and grinned. "It's silly, I know."

Richard stroked her labia and smiled gently. "Not at all. I think it's a beautiful fantasy, and would look spectacular." He didn't mention whether he thought she could actually perform it, although he thought it likely she would try. His dream powers certainly made it possible for him to make it happen, but he had definite concerns about the psychological damage it might cause, since it would be far more "real" to her mind than any natural dream. "I'll certainly take your fantasy into account, if not today, then in a future visit. But for now …" He reached under the white cloth and produced a vaginal dilator made of two narrow metal beaks that were bent and hinged, with a large screw and nut assembly that would spread the leaves apart. Unlike a medical speculum, this device covered and protected far less of the vagina when inserted, but was much more uncomfortable when spread wide.

Debbie immediately knew what it was. "Ooh, nice." She reached down and spread her labia to help the insertion. "There. Can you get it in?"

Richard nodded, and he felt her muscles resisting as he pushed the cold metal tubes against her vagina. When it didn't immediately slide in, he began to apply pressure, pushing hard against the tight opening. He saw her wince, but she didn't move her hips as he forced the device into her vagina. She was very wet, so it wasn't too difficult to get it all the way in. Then he started to turn the screw, and the two metal bills moved apart. Unlike a medical speculum, there were no handles to pry the speculum leaves open, so he had to be patient and work the screw. He could have just willed it open, but the more he fiddled with the dream, the less real and satisfying it would seem, both to himself and Debbie. It wouldn't have mattered if he was just interested in hurting or frightening her, but he considered her his friend, and he wanted her to have the best experience possible as well. When he heard a soft grunt as he turned the screw, he looked up and said, "Is it hurting?"

She chuckled. "It began hurting several turns ago, but the last one really stung."

Richard bend lower and peered into her vagina. Naturally, the light was such that he could see clearly all the way into her depths. He willed it a little brighter, then smiled. "That's a pretty cervix. A nice smooth pink dome."

"Thank you, kind sir." She made a humming sound. "I love how this thing feels. The way the bars jam against my walls makes my vagina feel really open and stretched. So vulnerable. I feel that anyone can reach right inside and do things to my cervix and womb."

"Speaking of which," Richard said, and held up a metal rod that was tipped with what looked like an extra large mascara brush. He carefully inserted it into her, and used the bristles to playfully stroke her vagina.

"Wow, those bristles are stiff," Debbie said. The scratching, tickling sensation made her quiver. She tensed when Richard began playfully scraping her vaginal walls with the harsh bristles, creating a tingling, itching, and burning sensation. It hurt, but not as much as she wanted, but she knew more was coming. Her cunt spasmed. "I can't wait for you to really hurt me with that thing." She inhaled sharply when the stiff bristles were dragged across her exposed cervix, making her gasp at the pain. "Oh yes, that's it." Her knees pulled up higher in an effort to better expose her vagina and cervix, and her pulse thundered in her head as she waited for damage to be inflicted on her genitals. Sometimes she thought it was fortunate that her husband refused to hurt her, since she wasn't sure how far she would go without someone guiding and controlling her. The tip of the brush jabbed her cervix, causing a hot stab of pain, then she felt it move, searching for the tiny opening that led to her womb. Resisting the urge to orally guide him, she focused on keeping her breathing deep and slow as her cervix was repeatedly jabbed and scraped. The pain made her bite her lip and whimper softly. Then the brush found the opening, and the bristles began worming their way into the tiny, tight orifice. Her cervix was far more sensitive than the rear lining of her vagina, and her entire body tensed. It felt like tiny needles were being driven into her cervix, while miniature claws scraped the lining of her cervical orifice. The pain was intense, but all she could think about was that she wanted to play with her clitoris. More than that, she wanted to come for Richard even as he hurt the entrance to her uterus. The brush pushed deeper, and she bit her lip as fire filled her belly. She cried out when the slim brush started to twist and move in and out, fucking her cervix, the merciless bristles tearing at the delicate genital tissue.

Leaning close, Richard watched in fascination as the brush moved in and out of Debbie's cervix, and before long he saw flecks of red being drawn out with each movement of the brush. Debbie was uttering little strained moans of pain with each movement of the bristles, but she still made no effort to protect her reproductive organs from damage. Then he shoved the brush deeper, reaching into her womb. He waggled the rod around, working the bristles against the walls of her uterus as well as her cervix. Debbie screamed in pain, and her feet kicked the air in protest at this invasion of her most intimate parts. With a smile, he said, "Rub your clit. Come for me."

Debbie's right hand immediately began rubbing furiously at her clit, and despite her obvious agony, her hips began small rocking motions and her moans changed to something more sensuous. Despite the fiery pain that filled her pussy, it failed to suppress the delicious pleasure emanating from her clitoris. "Yes, that's it, hurt my womb, tear it up, make me bleed," she cried even as she rubbed madly at her singing clit. Then the agony merged with the equally blinding pleasure, and she came, so hard that she almost fainted. There was one final burst of pain as the brush withdrew, deliberately scraping her vagina as it came out, and her hips bucked as she continued to milk her clit of every drop of orgasmic delight, all the while imagining her cervix torn and bleeding, with gory furrows raked along her vagina. The speculum still held her painfully spread wide open, and she dreamily fantasised having a thick thorny branch shoved roughly into her vagina as she teased her clit. She sighed. "That was great. Thank you."

Richard gently removed the speculum, helped her up, and gave her a kiss. "You're very welcome. I have to go now, but you'll remember this dream time when you wake up. I'll visit you again soon. Promise. In the meantime, be kind to yourself, and to Reg."

She smiled and nodded, waving as he seemed to drift backwards and away.

Chapter Three.

Richard stroked a solid erection with a smile on his face as he lay in bed. He had obtained the autograph of a very attractive but nasty celebrity, and had spent the night tormenting her in a classical dungeon setting. While he mostly visited women who enjoyed his visits like Debbie, once in a while he indulged himself with ones whom he thought deserved a little nighttime retribution. He checked his email accounts over breakfast, and saw one from Debbie on the fake account he kept for this purpose. It had been three days since their last encounter, and he wondered if she was already desperate for another meeting. But when he read the message, he saw that she was updating him on Sally's progress, or, to be precise, lack of it. It appeared that although she was not presenting any physical injuries, she hadn't come out of her coma, although there were clear signs of brain activity. He sighed, saddened by the news. But there was nothing he could do — or was there? He suddenly remembered the book he had bought that day, and had a vivid memory of Sally taking the book from the shelf and leafing through it. He bit his lip. If a dream host died, he could be dragged down into death along with her. What would happen if he tried to enter a mind that was already dead? He only had one client that day, so he spent the rest of the time reading up on comas.

He was still pondering about the risks at bedtime, but found himself holding the book of s&m erotica as he sat on the mattress, and realised he had decided to take the risk. Sally seemed to be a nice person, and he wanted to help if he could. Eros had not intended the power of the coin to be used for good deeds, but he didn't think it would offend the ancient being. With the book on his chest, he drifted off to sleep.

***

The power of the coin drew Richard towards Sally's dream world, and he took this as a good sign. If she was dreaming, she couldn't be brain-dead. He hoped. To his surprise, he found himself standing on the pavement outside the bookshop. The street was empty of people, although there were stationary cars on the road, empty of drivers. It was all rather eerie. His eyes caught movement, and he spun, raising his hands defensively. "Sally?" It was unmistakably her, looking healthy and whole, staring at him quizzically. The only peculiar thing about her was that she was totally naked, save for the pink slip-on shoes she had been wearing when he last saw her.

She frowned, seemingly puzzled. She watched as he strode slowly towards her. "I know you, don't I," she said, possibly talking to herself.

"Hello. I'm Richard. We met in that bookshop," he said, his eyes running over her nude body. He hadn't really looked at her figure when they had met in real life, and was surprised at how trim and toned she looked, like a gymnast or ballet dancer. Her breasts were small, but shapely, and her pubic hair was trimmed or shaved, leaving only a small patch above the cleft of her vulva. He wasn't sure if she was aware of her nudity.

She smiled and nodded. "Oh yes, we were looking at that book. Was it any good?"

That seemed to be a safe topic, so he said, "Yes it was. It's hard to find a decent story featuring pussy torture."

"I know," she said earnestly. "I'm a great fan of the topic myself." Then she actually blushed. "I don't mean I do a lot of it in either capacity, but I try to find every bit of fiction or video about it that's available. I must remember to go back and get a copy sometime." Suddenly, she twirled on the spot and said, "Do you like what you see?" She saw his expression and grinned. "Oh, don't worry. This is just a silly dream after all, so I can indulge my inner exhibitionist. Stare all you want. I haven't had one of these walking around in public naked dreams in ages. I have to admit, it turns me on." She looked down at her nakedness. "It's strange, I was wearing a top and skirt when I went into that bookshop, but I don't suppose my dream-self cares about that."

"How long have you been dreaming? Shouldn't you be waking up soon?" Richard asked casually.

She frowned. "Wake up? I don't …" The world shuddered and flickered.

Richard hurriedly took control of the dream, his heart pounding. It looked like her mind refused to wake, or she didn't want to exit the dream state, and the very thought of it threatened to cause her mind to collapse. "No, of course you don't have to wake up. This is your dream, so why not enjoy it."

Sally looked uncertain for a moment, confused or mentally struggling with something, then she smiled. "Yes. You're right. There's no reason I shouldn't enjoy myself." She looked down at her breasts, cupping them and squeezing her nipples, making them stand out like little bullets. "Ooh, that feels nice. I like that, you know," she said innocently.

"Playing with your nipples?" Richard said. Although he had control, he didn't change anything, unsure what might set her off.

"No, silly. Hurting them. I like that sort of thing." She bit her lip, then grinned. "But you already know that. The book …"

Richard nodded. "I was surprised that you liked that one. It's pretty hard core. Not like 50 Shades at all."

Sally blew a raspberry. "I like pain, not all the silk scarves and kneeling." She sighed. "Or at least I like fantasising about it. I've always been too chicken to do anything more than smack myself on the bum, and pinch my nipples." She lowered her head, looking glum. Waving her hands at her slim, toned body, she sighed. "Everybody says I look good. I work hard to stay in shape. But I'm too chicken to do what really turns me on, and who can I trust to do it to me?"

"Well, this is a dream, and you've managed to get yourself naked, so why not experiment a bit?" Richard definitely liked the idea of either watching her do things to herself, or doing things to her, but in addition, he hoped that if she focused on her body and its sensations, she might become more attuned to her real body, and perhaps wake up. He could do just about anything to someone in a dream, and he could, to an extent, even prevent them from waking up, but he couldn't force them to wake. But for the moment at least, he wasn't going to make her do anything.

Sally tilted her head. "Experiment?" Then she seemed to realise she was still pinching her nipples, which had grown stiff, the aureolas crinkled. A smile grew and spread across her face. "Yeah, why not, indeed." She looked around. "But not out here in the street. We need somewhere private and comfy. But …"

Richard held up his hand. "I know just the place." Another snap of the fingers, and they were standing in the living room of a luxury penthouse. Sloan Square could just be glimpsed through the tall glass wall. The finger snap wasn't strictly necessary, but he found it useful to separate idle thoughts from actual intentions in the dream state.

Sally looked around, obviously impressed. "Wow. Nice. Is this yours?"

"Of course not, silly. This is a dream. So why not dream big," Richard said, admiring her lithe form, which was beautifully lit by the sunlight coming through the floor to ceiling windows. His eyes went between her legs. She had prominent inner labia that stood just proud of her slit. Her clitoris was large enough to peek out from its hood at the top as well.

Sally noticed his attention, and a mischievous grin spread across her lips. She shifted her feet to face him squarely, and then slid one foot to the side, then cocked her hips forward, pushing her crotch towards him. "Do you like it? I often imagine being made to display my pussy to strangers. I don't know why, but it really turns me on." She framed her pubic mound with her hands. "Would you like to know more?" she said brightly.

Richard chuckled at the Starship Trooper reference. "I would indeed. Are your fantasies limited to just displaying your pussy?"

It was her turn to chuckle. "As a matter of fact, no. The fantasies I have about my pussy are pretty extensive. I'd tell you, but you might be shocked." She bit her lip, suddenly serious. "Do you think it's wrong for a woman to like pain, and especially having their privates hurt?"

"Not at all," Richard said firmly. "As long as you're not self-destructive in real life, all forms of sexual fantasy can be healthy and constructive."

"That's a relief, because I have some of the filthiest, most awful fantasies you can imagine," Sally said. She blushed. "I've never confessed that to anyone."

"This is just a dream, so you're safe," Richard said. He didn't like lying, but it was only a half-lie, and he wasn't going to tell anyone. Not that anyone would believe him. "Definitely a relief. Now where was I? Oh, yes." Her fingers moved and drew her outer labia apart, causing the inside of her vulva to blossom in a profusion of shades of pink. "How's that?" She quivered. "Ooh, I can feel you staring at my pussy. I like it."

"Mind if I have a closer look?" He gestured towards a spot in front of her. Her blush deepened, but she nodded, so he positioned himself in front of her and knelt down to bring his face level with her crotch. He smiled when her hips pushed forward a little more. This improved view of her cunt only served to confirm that she had a beautiful one, shapely, symmetrical, inner labia that were neither too large nor too small, and that bold pink clit. "Nice. Very nice indeed. I'd certainly enjoy playing with it."

Sally raised an eyebrow. "Play? Most men would have said fuck. Do you have something else in mind?" The thought made her thighs tremble, and she could feel herself getting wet. "Something more — intense, perhaps?"

It was obvious what she wanted to hear, so Richard obliged. "This is a dream, so I'm allowed to be a bit more um — rude than usual. Do you want me to be rude?"

Sally's eyes widened, and she began to breathe faster. Her fingers pulled harder on her pussy lips, spreading herself even wider. Her thumbs peeled back her clitoral hood, making it stand out proudly. In a husky tone, she said, "I think I'd very much like you to be rude. I'd like you to do things to my pussy that no woman would ever want to happen to those parts. Bad things, naughty things, things that would make film audiences cover their eyes."

"It's likely to hurt quite a bit," Richard said with a smile.

"I know," she replied gleefully.

"It might even seriously damage your genitals."

"What is a pussy for, if not to be wrecked." Her smile widened. "After all, it'll be good as new when I wake up."

"Very true. Do you mind?" Richard said, holding his fingers near her cunt.

"Be my guest. Feel free to rummage around. Don't worry about being gentle, or about my comfort," Sally said, her tone earnest. She had a wide grin on her face, and her eyes sparkled with excitement. Her hips shifted side to side invitingly.

Richard reached out with his thumb and forefinger and gently took hold of her clitoris. Framing it with his fingers and holding it steady, he slowly scratched at it with a fingernail of his other hand.

Sally shuddered and gasped. It didn't actually hurt, but the sensation was overwhelmingly intense, and each scrape made her knees want to buckle. "That's nice," she said breathlessly. "But I might pee on your face if you keep doing that."

"I might rip it off with a pair of pliers if you do, so I suggest you hold it in," Richard said, continuing to scratch at her clit.

The image both horrified and thrilled her, so she said, "That would be a shame, so early on, anyway. I'm sure you can find better ways to be mean to clitty before you do that." She shivered as he kept up his assault. It didn't seem to get any less intense, no matter how long he did it. "God, that feels good. You're driving me crazy. But it won't make me cum, you know."

"I didn't think it would," Richard said calmly. "But you said you wanted it to hurt, and this seemed a good way to start." In fact, he had wanted to see how she would respond to actual discomfort, and whether strong physical sensations might cause her to wake up. But so far, nothing seemed to be happening, except that she was obviously getting really aroused. He flicked his fingernail a little harder against her clit, which was reddened and bruised, and he smiled when her body jerked as if hit by an electric current. "How are we doing?"

"Oh God, my head feels like it's about to explode. I've never felt anything like it. It's wonderful." She quivered, her toes curling. "I think I'd like to try something a bit more painful now, if you don't mind."

"By all means," Richard said, and snapped his fingers. A wooden cocktail stick appeared in his free hand, while his other hand maintained its grip on her clitoris. Her eyes widened when she saw the thin, sharp stick. She looked like a small child about to receive an injection, her expression a mixture of fear and anticipation. With a smile, Richard touched the end of the stick against her clitoris and pressed it into the waiting pink bud. "What we're going to do is to damage your clit enough so that it will continue to hurt quite badly even when I move on to the rest of your cunt, but not so much that those wonderful nerves become numb. We'll come back to it later and really make you scream. Sound good?"

Sally was trembling and breathing fast. Her clit stung as he pressed the stick into it, then she felt him rotate it slowly, causing the tip to drill into the centre of the sensitive button, and for a moment, she couldn't speak. She cleared her throat and nodded. "Th-that sounds marvellous. I've often imagined being made to present my clitoris for the most horrendous treatment, watching it being slowly and precisely destroyed, but in such a way that I'm forced to orgasm over and over in between each increasingly awful torture. All the while, I would stand still and keep it exposed so that it was completely vulnerable, even as I screamed and cried, and watched it being gradually destroyed." She shook her head slowly and smiled. "Of course, I'd never actually do something like that in reality. While I'd likely enjoy it, it would be a one-time event, and I'm still young."

"But this is just a dream," Richard said, and slowly increased the pressure of the sharp wooden point on her clit.

"Yes it is," Sally said, craning her neck to look at what he was doing. "Ow, ow, ow," she exclaimed each time the cocktail stick pricked her clit, the point stopping just short of breaking the skin. Pain and something else, flared bright between her legs. "That's it, hurt my clit." A little trickle of wetness oozed from her slit, making it hard to hold herself open. She felt the stick rotate slowly, and the point dug into her flesh, drawing blood. "Oh fuck, yes." She forced her hips to hold very still as the sharp wooden needle stabbed the nerve filled morsel, her eyes wide. Agony, like crackling electrical fire, shot from her clit down her legs and up her spine. She wanted to scream and run away, and she wanted to beg for more. The stick continued to dig into her clit, and waves of pain washed over her, making her sweat and feel chilled. And yet, she was getting tremendously aroused, almost painfully horny. Her nipples felt stiff enough to cut glass, and she could feel her pussy dripping. The sharp sting made her head swim. It was becoming difficult to focus, to think. All she could do was feel, and the sensations were wildly intense. A large drop of blood stained the end of the cocktail stick. She gasped again when the point pulled away from her clitoris, but as Richard had promised, he had done enough harm so that her clit continued to pulse with pain in time with her heartbeat. She held her breath, waiting to hear the words.

"Masturbate. Make yourself come. I'll hurt your cunt more, but only after you've had an orgasm," Richard said. "Only play with your clit. Show me how well you can come when you're in pain."

With her fantasies swirling around in her head, Sally shifted her fingers, trying to maintain the spread of her pussy lips, while freeing a finger to toy with her clitoris. She inhaled with a hiss when her fingertip touched her clit. The toothpick had inflicted far more than a mere pin prick, and touching the fresh wound burned, but she didn't hesitate and began rubbing her bleeding clit in a slow circular motion. Delight immediately flooded her loins, and she moaned. It still hurt like hell, but that was all part of the fun. Ignoring the pain, she masturbated madly, determined to come properly so that Richard could continue the torture of her pussy. She luxuriated in the pain, knowing that each orgasm would come at the cost of increasingly intense agony as he gradually wrecked her pussy. This was the best dream ever. "I'm close," she said in between moans. Her knees flexed and bent outwards as she strained, her finger a blur above her clit. Then she came, her head snapping back, mouth wide open, eyes squeezed shut. "Oh yes, oh fuck, oh God, oh God, oh God," she gasped, her body jerking, hips twisting, as the waves of pleasure broke over her. She pulled hard on her labia, opening her vaginal orifice as wide as possible so that Richard could see the rapid orgasmic contractions that pulsed through her pussy. Her body swayed, and she felt Richard's hands on her hips, steadying her. She licked the blood off her finger, and then resumed the spreading of her pussy lips. "Ready," she said briskly, even though her head still swam from the intense orgasm.

Richard noted that she looked a lot more steady and alert. He could feel that the dream world was stronger too. The sexual play was obviously helping her regain her focus and psychological strength. But he didn't feel confident enough to try testing her grip on reality just yet. A wrong move could lose any progress she had made. He snapped his fingers and a metal bowl set on a tripod appeared. The bowl was half full of a strong salt solution. Sitting across the bowl was a surgical scalpel and a paint brush. "I'm going to work on your pretty inner labia now."

Sally quivered with anticipation, the vision of the scalpel sending a chill down her spine. "Are you going to slice them off?"

He shook his head and smiled. "No, they're too nice to simply remove them."

"You really like my labia?" Sally asked, pleased by the complement and suddenly very aware of how they looked and felt.

"I do," Richard said sincerely. "I love their shape, and the way they look when erect. It's wild that I have the opportunity to play with them."

"But not so much that you can't hurt them, I hope," Sally said as her fingers lightly brushed her inner lips, spreading and arranging them.

"I can't wait to hurt them," Richard replied with a smile. He reached out and lightly touched the delicate folds with the tip of his finger, feeling the smoothness of her skin and the hint of moisture.

Sally eyed the scalpel and quivered with excitement as she imagined the razor sharp edge slicing into her lips while she held them absolutely still and exposed. The thought of helping him cruelly injure those delicate parts, and inflicting unbearable pain on her pussy, almost made her come again. "Yes, cut my labia. Hurt them, make them bleed, make me scream for you."

Richard stroked her labia with a fingertip, enjoying the way the delicate female tissue felt, and the way Sally was offering them to him. He licked both of the labia, making her moan softly in appreciation, even as he picked up the scalpel. "Now hold very still. I'm going to score your labia with this, and then brush the wounds with the salt water. If you move, I might cut deeper than necessary."

"I wouldn't mind," Sally said, her eyes wide in fascinated horror.

Richard shook his head. "A lot of blood would interfere with the effect of the salt. Besides, I'm just going for the pain right now. We'll get serious with these pretty lips later on." He took a deep breath and pressed the blade to her flesh.

Sally's entire body tensed with anticipation. Her breathing quickened, and her heart raced. She wanted to beg him to go slowly, but didn't want to break the mood by speaking. Her labia stung as the extremely sharp blade split the soft genital tissue. Her heart pounded as she watched him cut her, but she held very still, trying her best to cooperate with the torture of her pussy.

The scalpel barely broke the skin as he drew a radiating line on the inner side of her labia. "And now …" Richard put down the scalpel and picked up the brush. He shook off any excess liquid, then carefully painted the tiny wound with the saline solution.

Sally gasped as the small sharp burn of the cut immediately exploded into biting pain. "Oh fuck that stings!" she cried. She could feel her pussy throb as the salt penetrated the slit he had made, and the surrounding skin reddened. Tears welled in her eyes from the intensity of the pain, but she felt a fierce joy, even as Richard picked up the scalpel again. She hissed as the blade kissed her labia. The knowledge that it was being delicately sliced by the knife as she held her pussy spread open to let it happen, aroused her so much it was almost a pain by itself. A moment later came the shocking burn of the salt, the agony making her legs tremble, and sweat run down her sides. She wanted so badly to rub her aching clit, but she knew she had to wait for the blade to finish its work on her labia before she would be called upon to come again.

Richard kept a steady hand as he continued to slice into her inner labia, one cut at a time, taking care not to cut too deep or make the incisions uneven. He marvelled at the way she remained motionless, allowing him to inflict the most horrible pain on her pussy. She was making harsh grating cries of suffering now, as pain was layered upon pain, with the steady and deliberate injuring of her labia. When he had made the last cut and the final agonising dash of salt, he leaned back to admire his work, and to absorb the quivering agony that racked her lovely body. At the same time, her arousal was so obvious it seemed to glow from her very being.

Her labia were on fire, and her mind was reeling from the shock of watching her pussy being steadily cut and laved with salt water, but she also had never felt so horny in all her life. She wanted to come so badly that she was panting, and she cried out in excitement when he told her to come for him. Touching her wounded clitoris created fresh pain, but that didn't make her hesitate in the slightest. She urgently began to masturbate, challenging the searing pain that emanated from her wounded labia, refusing to allow her suffering to prevent her from coming. She would continue to have orgasms even as her pussy was gradually wrecked and destroyed. Once again, images of ever more intense and horrific genital tortures played through her mind, as terrible pain and soaring sexual pleasure twisted and blended in her body. She rubbed herself faster, and then came hard, her orgasm an explosion of pain and ecstasy.

The vision of Sally's climax caused a thrill of wonder and excitement in Richard. She had been so desperate to come that she had overcome the intense pain he had inflicted on her pussy, and had forced herself into an orgasm. He watched entranced as she shuddered, and her vagina clenched and contracted under the shattering waves of pleasure. Once again he had to reach out to steady her as she swayed and nearly staggered. Her skin was hot and slick with sweat. At first glance, her cunt showed little signs of damage, other than an obvious reddening and swelling. But on closer study, fine lines of darker red streaked and dotted her vulva where the blood had clotted and tissue had bruised and swollen under the controlled injuries. She was very wet, with glistening trails of her sexual juices painting her opening, and trickling down her inner thighs.

Even though her pussy was a mass of pain, Sally grinned. "This is so good. For the longest time, I've wanted to just let go and give in to my impulses and desires, but common sense always stopped me. I've had dreams and fantasies before, but never as real and intense as this." She looked down at her pussy, which she stubbornly held spread wide, demonstrating her willingness to have her genitals hurt even more. Then she sobered and looked into Richard's eyes. "You're real, aren't you. You're not just a figment of my imagination. I don't understand how it's possible, but all this …" she looked around, "… isn't simply a wild dream. Tell me the truth."

Chapter Four.

Richard patted her thigh and said, "Why don't we take a break, and I'll explain." He nodded towards the broad sofas that lined the wall. A snap of his fingers produced a trolley with the makings of tea, various sandwiches, and cakes.

Somewhat confused, Sally allowed herself to be seated and handed a cup of tea. She took a sip, and said, "All right. Talk."

Richard tapped his fingers on his thigh, trying to formulate the best answer in his mind. "Yes, I'm real. And yes, this is a dream, but it's not entirely your dream."

"What does that mean?" Sally asked.

"I have a magic coin. It lets me enter the dreams of others." He held up his hand. "Yes, I know, that doesn't make sense. It's a long story, but what's happening to you is more important."

"Me?" Sally said, clearly puzzled. She waved at her body. "But I'm fine. We've just been …"

Richard cut her off with a smile and gesture. "Yes. I was very pleased to discover that you, your mind, is fine. To an extent. You must have some idea that this isn't an ordinary dream, even before I turned up in it."

Sally frowned. "Of course it's just a —" Then she paused, clearly thinking about her dream just before Richard had appeared in it. She took a deep breath, her face turning pale. "Am I dead? Are you —"

"Saint Michael? Satan? No, you're not dead, and I'm just an ordinary guy, with just one special trick or power." He reached out and took her hand. "You … the physical you … were in an accident. Don't worry, apart from some bumps and scrapes, you're fine. But you're in a coma. It's been several days, and you haven't woken up, and the doctors aren't sure why. Because I remembered meeting you, I decided to see if you were all right mentally. When I discovered that you were mentally active in a dream state, I decided to see if I could help."

"But I feel fine. Why can't I wake up?"

"When I first entered your dream, you got upset when I suggested it. I think there's something your mind is trying to avoid. Something worse than just a hit-and-run, or some kind of random attack. Do you remember anything at all, after you left the bookshop?"

Sally closed her eyes and rubbed her temples with her fingertips. "I think there was — it was a person, not a car. I see hands grabbing me, shoving me, but I can't see the face. There was shouting, and I remember …" Her hand reached out, making a clutching motion. Then she shook her head. "I'm sorry. That's all I can remember. It's like there's this wall in my head."

It was obvious that there was something about her accident that Sally's mind was refusing to face, so much so that she was taking refuge in the coma. He took her hand and stroked it, but he was surprised when she threw her arms around him. He carefully hugged her back. "It'll be all right. You're not in any danger, and we'll find out what's bothering you. And you've got me, so you won't be alone."

Sally pulled back, and looked at Richard. "And what about you? Don't you have someone you should be with?"

He shook his head. "No. My sexual tastes make it hard to have a relationship. Besides, this power I have keeps me busy."

Her smile returned, and she ran a finger down the middle of his chest. "I really liked what you were doing — you know, between my legs. I'm totally up for more, in case you were wondering."

Suddenly, the image of Sally clutching at the air when she described what had happened to her came back to him, and he remembered the broach or pin that he had picked up. It was really unlikely that it had anything to do with Sally, and yet he had definitely felt something. The coin had never done anything like that before, but he felt an inexplicable connection to Sally. He decided he had to check it out. "That's good. But I have to take care of one thing first."

"What's that?" she asked, a hint of disappointment in her voice.

He held up his hand. "I'd rather not say right now. It might help your situation, but equally it might not. I would rather not get your hopes up for nothing. Do you think you'll be OK on your own for a while?"

"Will I have to go back to the street?"

Richard frowned. "I'm not sure. Now that you're aware you're dreaming, perhaps you can affect it. Let's experiment. Think of somewhere you'd prefer to spend some time, and focus your mind on it. It has to be somewhere you're familiar with. I wouldn't try a fantasy location. When you're ready, I'll lift my control, and we'll see where we end up."

Sally bit her lip and nodded, then closed her eyes. "All right, I'm ready."

Richard lifted his control, and the world blurred and shifted. Abruptly, they were standing in the middle of Hyde Park. He looked around, and everything seemed stable and normal. No nightmare elements. He looked at Sally, and she was dressed in a t-shirt and jeans, hiking boots on her feet. "Nice. This looks good. Just relax here for a while. I won't be gone very long." He took her hand and squeezed it gently. "I'll be back. Trust me."

Sally grinned. "I let you cut on my pussy, so I think trust isn't a problem. Go and do whatever it is. I'll be waiting here."

***

Richard woke up and just lay there for a moment, letting his mind return to reality, then he sprang up and went over to where his jacket was lying over the back of a chair. His hand delved into the pocket, and he grinned when it found the item of jewellery he had picked up. His fingers tingled and he frowned. This had never happened before, but then the gift of Eros had not come with instructions. Gripping it in his fist, he returned to the bed. There was a mug on the bedside cabinet, half-full of cold coffee. He took a sip to wet his mouth, and then lay down with the item held on his chest. He closed his eyes and focused on it, and felt a mental tug as he slowly drifted off to sleep.

The world blinked and, to his surprise, he was once more in the street in front of the bookshop. Furious screaming made his head jerk around. He immediately spotted Sally, although she looked completely different from his recent memory of her. This Sally was curvier, her breasts larger, and hips wider. She wore a rather tasteless bright red lipstick, and her eyes were garishly made-up. In fact, she looked the classic stereotypical image of a street walker. The unknown woman whose dream he had entered was screaming at Sally, her face red and swollen with rage.

"You whore! He's mine, and you'll keep your filthy paws off of him, or you'll be sorry," she shouted, spittle flying from her lips as she jabbed at Sally's chest with a stiff finger.

"But — but he's just my colleague. We work together. We're not …" Sally spluttered. "You're my best friend. I wouldn't …"

"Liar!" the woman snarled. "He talks about you all the time. Sally this, and Sally that. You're screwing him. I know you are."

Sally tried to speak, but was cut off by a slap to her face. She stumbled and nearly fell, only managing to stay upright because the woman grabbed her shoulders and shoved her against the wall. She tried to straighten up and push her attacker away, but the woman's open palm hit her face and her head snapped back and bounced off the wall with a sickening thud. Sally went limp and slumped to the ground, clearly unconscious.

The woman screamed down at Sally's crumpled form, "You keep your bitch paws away from him, or I'll cut your tits off. No man will look at you again." She spat on her friend, and then stormed off.

While Richard couldn't actually read the woman's mind, he knew that she was driven by jealousy and fear. Deep down, she knew she had no evidence that Sally had actually betrayed her, so Richard knew it too. He snapped his fingers, and the dreamscape took on the sharpness of reality as he took control. Suddenly, he knew the woman's identity. Her name was Linda Callas. As he had overheard, she was Sally's best friend. He guessed that it was the fact that her best friend had tried to kill her was the reason Sally was so reluctant to return to reality. The dream Sally had disappeared, and he strode off in pursuit of Linda. He could have just snapped his fingers and brought her to his side, but he wanted to see what she would do, after nearly murdering her best friend. It would affect how he dealt with her. Despite his control, he let her mind guide the dream, and with a flicker, they were suddenly in a bar. She sat at a table sipping a fancy looking cocktail and chuckling to herself. This was confirmation enough that Linda did not regret what she did, nor did she care what had happened to Sally. He snapped his fingers and the bar disappeared. Richard looked around at the new surroundings, that he had drawn from Linda's own nightmares.

They were in an abandoned industrial building. The paint was peeling off the walls and windows were broken. Pieces of bricks and shattered concrete littered the floor, and weeds grew in the cracks. Rusting hulks of vague industrial machinery loomed along the walls, and chains hung from the rafters. Dried blood splattered the walls and floor. Apparently Linda was a fan of slasher films. The woman hung from her wrists, which were bound by steel shackles attached to more chains that led up to an electric winch. Shackles also held her ankles apart so that her body was stretched in a taut "X". She had a nice body. Not as slim and toned as Sally's but more curvy like a typical bikini model. Her cunt was smooth and hairless, obviously the result of a Brazilian waxing. Her clit peeked boldly from her slit, and her inner labia formed a bright pink frill that offered a good target for the whip. All in all, a good cunt for torture.

Linda looked around, eyes wide in shock and confusion. "What is this? Shit, is this some kind of nightmare?" She struggled against her bonds and shook her head wildly from side to side, as if trying to wake up and escape from this new, and unpleasant dream. Then she saw Richard. "Who the fuck is that?" she said to herself. His face wasn't familiar to her. Not even from TV or films. Why would her subconscious create a total stranger for her dream?

Richard smiled. "This isn't a nightmare. Or at least, it's not your nightmare. I'm in control of all this …" he waved his hands, indicating their surroundings, "… and of you."

"Fuck you!" Linda snapped, demonstrating the range of her vocabulary.

Richard chuckled. "Is that an offer?" He shook his head. "You put Sally into a coma. She still hasn't woken up."

"Fuck her!" Linda shouted. "That traitorous bitch deserves all she gets."

"You mean because she's so pretty, men are attracted to her, and you feel threatened?"

"No, because she's a backstabbing whore, and …" She froze as she suddenly realised that Richard had read her mind and knew all about her relationship with Sally. "How the fuck did you do that? What the hell are you?"

He shrugged. "What I am, is the man who is in control of your dreams, and unless you turn yourself in to the police and confess what you did, those dreams are going to be very unpleasant from now on." Richard knew from experience that his dream appearance was not what he looked like in real life, so he didn't fear being recognised by her, even if they somehow met.

Linda shook her head. "Do you think I'm crazy? Even if you're not just a figment of my imagination, I'm not going to jail just because of a nightmare."

Richard's smile was wide and cruel. "I was hoping you'd say that." He snapped his fingers, and the winch whirred and rattled as it drew the chain up. Linda yelped as she was hauled upwards until her toes were just brushing the floor. Then the motor stopped, leaving her stretched tightly between her wrist shackles. "Normally, I'm a lot more subtle. However, I have a feeling you're someone who needs a more … robust introduction before we settle down for some real play." His hand flicked, and a leather whip, like a brown snake made of woven strips of hide, appeared in his grip. He ignored the steady stream of obscenities that came from Linda's lips as he paced around her taut, naked body, studying it like the craftsman he was. He saw her body twist and strain, her neck swivel as she tried to look behind, and he knew what she expected. He would give it to her. His arm drew back and then snapped forward. "Crack." The supple whip cut across the peak of her buttocks, biting viciously into her flesh and painting a bright red line.

"Oww! Fuck, you bastard," Linda shouted, her voice breaking mid-word. She twisted her body around, trying to see her attacker, but she was too tightly bound to make it easy. The whip slapped into her buttocks again, and she screamed in pain, fury, and puzzlement. She still believed this was some kind of crazy nightmare, although no dream had ever hurt like this. The whip struck again, this time the tip curling over her hip to bite into her lower belly. She began to scream in earnest when she realised he wasn't going to stop, and she wasn't going to wake up.

Richard finally did stop when her buttocks were covered with weals and dots of blood. He considered it a nice warm-up. "Just so you understand, I'm going to continue having fun until I feel like taking a break. Then I'll ask you again. Till then, don't bother pleading for mercy."

Linda managed to spit at him, although she was panting and moaning too hard to swear. Her eyes widened when she saw him move to her front and playfully slap the whip across her breasts. "No!" she shouted and struggled against the chains with renewed energy. "No, please. Don't, please don't. It's bad enough on my ass. Please no tits, no tits."

Richard smiled. "Sorry, I'm not listening." The whip lashed out and cracked across her breasts, the tip hitting her nipple. He laughed at the sharp squeal that came from her throat. Then the whip continued to rain down on her breasts, each strike crossing her full globes and marking them with an angry red stripe. He totally ignored her screams and curses as he flogged her breasts with smiling concentration. When thirty crimson stripes painted her breasts, he let the whip dangle while he studied his handiwork. He nodded in satisfaction and said, "Yes, I think that will do as a warm-up. Now we can move on to the main event." He snapped his fingers, and Linda's position abruptly blurred and shifted.

She found herself lying supine on a flat steel platform. Her arms were stretched out to either side and held to the cold steel surface by shackles riveted to the massive steel base. Steel bands wrapped around her thighs, attached to chains that pulled her knees back and apart, almost touching her shoulders. Her cunt was raised and perfectly exposed. One more polished steel band went around her waist, holding her torso against the metal base, and preventing her from wriggling more than a centimetre in any direction. "What the fuck is this? Let me go you sicko, or I'll …"

Richard laughed. "You'll what, Linda? Call the police? Remember, this is all just a bad dream." He snapped his fingers.

Linda yelped in surprise when four straps extended from the steel bands around her thighs towards her cunt, and toothed clips clamped down on her outer labia, stretching them painfully apart, exposing the delicate pink softness of her inner vulva. Her eyes widened in horror when Richard held up a long steel hat-pin in one hand, and a small oil lamp in the other. "What are you going to do with that?" she said as she struggled against her industrial-scale bonds.

Richard placed the lamp on the platform beside her immobile body and held the tip of the hat-pin in the flame. "I thought it should be obvious. I'm going to burn your cunt with this red-hot pin. The effect should be really interesting." When he judged the point to be sufficiently hot, he studied her tightly spread cunt. "Now then, where to start." He stroked her cunt with a fingertip. "You have a nice cunt. I'm going to enjoy seeing how it reacts to being burned." Linda was growing increasingly frantic and abusive, but he just ignored her as he studied the splayed and helplessly presented genitals before him. "Ah, I think here," he said as he touched the tip of the hat-pin to her inner left labia, about halfway between her entrance and clitoris. Her body spasmed, but her legs were so widely separated, and her body so tightly bound that she barely twitched.

There was a tiny hiss as the red-hot steel seared her cunt, leaving a raw red dot on her labia. Linda's scream rang through the huge industrial space, bouncing off the stained concrete walls and derelict machinery.

"Isn't that lovely," Richard said as he re-heated the pin. "I wonder which part of your cunt will make you scream the loudest." He circled her cunt with the red-hot tip, and then touched it to a spot just beside her twitching pee hole. The was another tiny sizzle, and he chuckled at her response. "You certainly felt that one." The pin dipped into the flame again. Using two fingers, Richard stretched her orifice wider, exposing more of her vagina despite Linda's frantic attempts to clench it shut. The hat-pin dipped into the glistening pink opening and the hot metal pricked and burned intimate flesh. If this had been real life, Richard might have been afraid that Linda's maddened struggles could have dislocated joints or broken bones, but of course nothing of the sort happened because he didn't allow it. The tip of the pin glowed red again, and he smiled as he selected another spot along the circumference of her vaginal opening.

Linda shrieked, tears streaming from her eyes as the red-hot pin seared her vaginal wall again and again. In between screams, she alternately begged and threatened, with an equal lack of effect. At this point, she would have agreed to anything in order to stop the pain. After all, once she woke up, she would be safe from this maniac. Perhaps she would see a doctor or psychiatrist. Some pills would surely fix … "No!" she yelled when she felt the man peel back the hood of her clitoris. She had no doubt what his next target was going to be. "Stop. Stop. I'll do it. I'll go to the police as soon as I wake up and tell them what I did. I swear."

Richard made a sad face and shook his head. "Why don't I believe you." He brushed the hapless clit with the glowing hat-pin. In real life, Linda's shriek might have damaged his eardrums. "That seems to have hit the spot," he said, and returned the pin to the flame. Linda babbled in panic and begged for mercy. "Mercy? How about this? Ask me nicely to burn your vagina again instead of your clit."

"Are you crazy?" Linda yelled, jerking frantically at the shackles. Then she felt his fingers pull harder on her clitoral hood and grip her clit firmly. "All right! Please burn my vagina, you sick fuck."

"I said nicely," Richard said with an evil grin as he jabbed the point of the hot hat-pin into her clitoris.

Linda screamed like a banshee, then began to sob. The pain in her cunt was beyond anything she had ever imagined. "I said I'll do it. I'll go to the police. I will —" she said, desperate to convince him and stop the torture.

Richard stepped back, rubbing his chin. "Very well. I'll give you the chance to keep your word. But if you're lying, I'll be back." He didn't bother to free her from the chains and shackles. They would disappear as soon as he left her dream.

***

Sally looked up in pleased surprise. "You're back! I was getting worried that I had just imagined you. I'm glad I'm not going bonkers. I hope not, at least." She ran over and hugged him. "So, are you going to tell me about your mysterious mission?"

Richard snapped his fingers, and they were back in the penthouse. He led Sally over to the sofa and sat down. Then he produced two mugs of Irish coffee, and a plate of chocolate éclairs, which he knew was a comfort food for her.

Sally sipped the coffee appreciatively, then said, "Go on then. I'm a big girl. If I can take a pussy whipping, I can take whatever you've found out."

He nodded slowly, nibbled on a éclair just to tease her, and then said, "What happened to you wasn't an accident. You were attacked." The dreamscape flickered for just a moment. But then the world returned to stability, and he continued. "It was Linda. She's insanely jealous of you. I've been trying to convince her to confess to the police. She said she would, but I'm not sure one … session will be enough. But I can be very persuasive."

Sally sat frozen for a long moment, then absently sipped her coffee again. The sky outside darkened, and storm clouds rushed by as if in a time-lapse sequence. Then her shoulders relaxed, and she sighed. "I remember. I guess I always knew, but having my best friend betray me like that, as well as reveal herself a total nutcase, was just — she tried to kill me!" Sally said, suddenly angry. "She didn't just shove me, or slap me, she pounded my head against the pavement after I was down. My best friend. I never flirted with her boyfriend. He isn't even really her boyfriend. She's just obsessed with him." She picked up a éclair, and bit into it angrily, then licked the cream off her lips. Unexpectedly, she smiled and sighed again. "I suppose I'll have to wake up, won't I," she said, her words a statement rather than a question.

"You are rather worrying your friends and family," Richard said gently.

Sally's smile turned mischievous. "But there's not that much of a hurry, is there?"

"You want more éclairs?"

"Well, they are delicious and non-fattening dream éclairs," she said, then shook her head. "Actually, I was thinking of finishing what you started," she said, and waved her truncated pastry towards her crotch. "You had only just started to wreck my pussy. I think you should at least finish the job before I go back to cold hard reality."

Richard laughed. "Very well. I suppose I owe you that. I did leave you hanging." He watched in appreciation as Sally leaned back against the backrest and drew her knees up.

"I love how you look at my pussy," Sally said. "I can see you truly enjoy how it looks, and aren't simply waiting to stick your dick into it." She spread her labia and glanced down at herself. "Too bad everything is magically healed or reset. I don't suppose you can bring it all back?"

Richard shrugged. "I might, but the build-up and accumulated stress and pain, not to mention the arousal, wouldn't be there. It would be like hitting you with a whole bunch of pain all at once. We might as well start again. Like you said, there's no real rush." He took a final sip of his whisky laced coffee, savoured the rich flavour, then put the mug down and shuffled closer to her. He ran his fingertips over her open cunt and smiled at her happy moan, then leaned forward to kiss her as his fingers bent into claws that gripped and dug into her vulva.

Sally moaned happily and wrapped her arms around him, her naked breasts moulding against his chest as his fingers dug into her pussy and the sweet pain began to flow again. The kiss deepened as he twisted and pinched her sensitive flesh, making her moan and squirm under his touch. His hand shifted, and his thumb entered her vagina while his middle finger pushed through her puckered anus and plunged into her. The two digits dug deep and clenched together like blunt talons, gripping and clawing alarmingly at the thin tissue that separated her vagina and colon. The way his hand was ravaging her intimate flesh made her heart pound, and she felt the heated rush of painful arousal swell and grow within her body. She imagined his hand ripping her genitals, and she almost came. "Yes, that's it, hurt my pussy, hurt it bad." She wanted to spread her thighs wide and hold still for him to dreadfully torture her pussy. The idea of forcing herself to let him do unspeakable things to her precious genitalia excited her so much it made her dizzy.

"I haven't done anything to your vagina yet. You can't truly torture a woman without being really mean to her vagina. What do you think?" Richard said. Sally bit her lip and nodded enthusiastically, so he rubbed his chin in thought. "Hmm, should I use a speculum?"

Sally put her hand on his arm. "No, let me hold it open for you with my fingers. I can do it, even if you rip my vagina to shreds. I'll keep it spread wide for you. I want to do it."

Richard smiled at her. "So be it. Hold your pussy wide open for me then. And remember, this isn't real, so don't worry about the consequences."

Sally smiled back, then shifted her hips up and reached down, her arms going out and around her thighs to spread her labia apart. "I'd do it even if this was real." Two fingers of each hand worked into her vagina, hooked, and pulled. Her orifice stretched and gaped wide, revealing the many pink folds and corrugations inside. "There. Like it?" She had fantasised for so long and so often about doing this, and dream or not, it felt wonderful. "It's all yours. Do whatever you like."

He studied her exposed vagina carefully, knowing that this was what she wanted. "So pretty. What nasty things can I do to it?"

Sally licked her lips. "Whatever you like. You don't have to be careful or gentle. Enjoy hurting me. Indulge yourself. I can take it. I want to take it." Her vaginal muscles clenched as she spoke, a flood of erotic sensation making her body quiver.

With his face close to her cunt, Richard could smell her arousal, and as always, was amazed at the fidelity of the dream world. It was obvious that the coin of Eros didn't simply trigger dreams, but acted to fully flesh out the environment that he was in. He smiled at her and snapped his fingers. On the sofa seat appeared a length of string that had half a dozen large metal washers knotted into it at varying angles. The edges of the washers were sharp enough to painfully scrape, but not actually cut, each disk roughly four centimetres in diameter.

Sally immediately realised their intent. She picked the string up and fingered the disks and hard knots. "Ooh. They look nasty, especially if you yank them out of me fast."

He grinned at her, and nodded. "Especially with the knots," he said, then held a hand out for the string.

Sally returned his grin, her face flushed with excited anticipation as she handed the string of washers over. She shivered when the first chill piece of metal was pressed against her opening, and then groaned as the metal was slowly pushed in, scraping her genital tissue as it went deep into her vagina. Her cunt was stretched wide as Richard worked it in, and then her hips twitched as she felt the washer slip past her g-spot. The string scratched uncomfortably, followed by the harsh scrape of the next washer, which bumped against the first, pinching and rasping her vagina as they were forced deeper. Sally moaned and panted in excitement, her arms trembling as her cunt was gradually filled. As the string entered her body, she could feel the washers twist and tug at her internal tissue, causing her cunt to flex and clench around the collection of washers and knotted string. When all the washers were right up against her cervix, and the end of the string dangled from her opening, Sally grinned at Richard. "What's next, as if I didn't know."

Richard twisted the string around two fingers and took a firm grip. "I'm going to yank it out hard, so brace yourself. As soon as you can manage, I want you to masturbate and come for me. Then I'll stuff it in again. Let's see how many times you can orgasm in a row before it hurts too much."

Sally smiled, teeth clenched. "Go ahead. Hurt my cunt. Make me scream. Then I'll come for you."

Richard yanked hard on the string. He felt resistance, and then the washers came shooting out, twisting and turning as they scraped and tore at her sensitive flesh, both disks and knots clawing at Sally's vagina with mechanical savagery.

Sally grunted through clenched teeth, refusing to scream. It felt as if the lining of her vagina had been ripped out, but she experienced an indescribable satisfaction, even though she wanted to press her thighs together and roll about in agony. Instead, her shaking fingers found her clitoris and began to rub. At first, the pain drowned out any trace of pleasure, but she persisted, doggedly rubbing her clitoris even as she sweated in agony. But the very need to come in the face of the injury to her vagina actually aroused her, gradually becoming a masochistic challenge. She was going to come because Richard required it of her, rather than from just a desire for erotic relief. "Watch — me — come — for you," she gasped, as powerful jolts of pleasure began to emanate from her clitoris in parallel to the hot pain of her abraded vagina. She would come, no matter what he did to her vagina, she told herself. Then agony and ecstasy merged, and her burning vagina clenched and contracted as the orgasm blasted through her being.

Even as Sally was still jerking and shuddering from her climax, Richard began stuffing the washers back into her vagina. Her flesh was soft, and offered little resistance as the sharp edges of the washers slid into her body. As each washer went in, he twisted it a little, watching her body react. Sally grunted and moaned, her hips jerking as she was jabbed and scraped deep inside by the metal disks. Small streaks of red stained his fingers when he withdrew them from her vagina, and he showed it to her.

This evidence of the damage being done to her genitals actually sent of rush of heat flowing though Sally's crotch. She almost laughed at the insanity of it, despite the urge to cry out in pain as Richard continued to push the washers into her. She braced her feet against the seat of the sofa so that she could lift her pussy up to help him stuff her vagina with the grinding metal disks. Regardless of the stinging pain of the washers being forced into her hole, Sally found the rough handling of her pussy incredibly arousing. She often fantasised about having things done to her pussy, bad, terrible things. Things that would hurt and even injure her genitals. Such thoughts drove her wild with lust. She gasped when a rough shove of Richard's fingers packed the disks against her cervix, and smiled as he gathered up the end of the string. Smiling, she neatly parted her inner labia and pressed her fingertips against the sides of her pussy as if to hold it in place, ready to have her cunt ravaged again. Her vagina still burned, but her heart pounded in excitement as she watched Richard draw the string taut. His hand jerked, pulling hard and fast. The column of sharp-edged metal disks ripped along her vagina like mechanical claws. Sally managed a grin before her face twisted, and her mouth opened wide in a silent scream.

Richard studied Sally's cunt in fascination as more blood trickled out this time, and the young woman bucked and shuddered. Her hands pounded the leather seat to either side of her body as she tried to ride the huge, crashing wave of pain. Richard stroked her inner thighs, as if soothing a startled horse. When she calmed to simply gasping and panting, he put the disks down again and dipped his fingers in the blood and juices flowing from her cunt, sniffed, and rubbed it between his thumb and fingers. "You took that well."

Even though her body was still trembling and cold from the shock and pain, Sally nodded and smiled. "Nothing like a good pussy workout." With an effort, she made her quivering thighs spread wide again, and the deliberate exposure of her burning pussy made her clit throb. "Should I come again?" When he nodded, her shaking fingers went to her clit and began the rub in a quick, small circle. Her vagina clenched, and she gasped in pain, but it didn't interfere with the growing waves of pleasure that were beginning to pulse in her clitoris. In her mind's eye, she pictured her vaginal lining being ripped apart, and felt another wave of heat and lust flow through her cunt. The stinging pain in her vagina was much worse, and it was harder for her to stimulate herself, but this just made her even more determined to orgasm for Richard. Like the pain, her sexual climax was something she did as an offering to Richard as much as for her own pleasure. She was admittedly conflicted about her clitoris. She would love for Richard to attack her clitoris as well, to stick needles in it, burn it with a lighter, scrape it raw with a wire brush, and much worse. But on the other hand, keeping it intact so that she could repeatedly force herself to come, even as the pain in her vagina grew steadily worse, was a massive thrill. It was defiant and deeply submissive at the same time. She pulled her prepuce back to fully expose her clitoris and stared at it, even as the agony in her vagina throbbed and burned. She wiped her fingers on the seat to dry them, then began rubbing and stroking the waiting bud. Despite all the pain, the sensation was strong enough to make her jump, and then gasp in ecstasy.

Richard watched Sally masturbate with admiration. He loved the way she stared at her exposed clit as she worked it, her fingers making the little bud swell and stiffen. She masturbated with a beautiful erotic ferocity, her determination to orgasm written clearly on every part of her being.

Every stroke of her fingers caused as much pain as pleasure, but Sally persevered, accepting, embracing the pain alongside the pleasure, and soon she felt the inner tightening that heralded her climax. "I'm near," she said breathlessly. "Now!" she gasped, and her face twisted, the marvellous contractions causing a fresh flare of agony in her vagina. She slumped bonelessly when her fingers had milked the last shudder from her clitoris. "That was so good, and hurt so fucking bad," she said, looking down at her pussy.

"Want to give up?" Richard asked. Sally was still mentally fragile, and this was his first visit to her dreams, so he had no desire to push her beyond her mental and emotional limits.

Sally shook her head vigorously and pushed herself back into position. "No way, I can take a lot more." She spread her labia and presented her ravaged vagina to Richard. "I haven't felt so alive in ages."

Richard nodded. "One more. As long as you're interested, this won't be the last time you see me in your dreams. I promise." He held the string of disks and tossed them in his palm, making them clink. Even though she was clearly in a lot of pain, Sally unhesitatingly offered her cunt to him, so he began feeding the disks into her vagina again. The feeling of his fingers digging deep into her bruised and swollen vagina was a special pleasure, and he could feel the reactions to every movement of his probing digits. Even though she couldn't help wincing and moaning, she still smiled and encouraged his agonising exploration of her genitals, allowing him unhindered access to every intimate part as he forced each disk back into her. Every shove of Richard's finger sent a fresh jolt of pain shooting through her pussy, but Sally also enjoyed the knowledgable way his fingers manipulated her vagina. He wasn't being rough, but neither did he hide the fact that he enjoyed hurting her intimately, and this in turn aroused her to a degree that she couldn't explain, even to herself. The fearful anticipation of having someone probing deep into her genitals with the intention of sexually hurting her was shockingly exciting, in the way slasher films were exciting. She grimaced as the last disk was forced into and down her vagina, and the stacked disks pressed threateningly against her cervix once more. Her masochistic mind couldn't help imagining the screaming agony of a disk being forced through her cervix and into her womb. Then the fingers were withdrawing, fingertips tracing the weals and scrapes etched into the wall of her vagina. "Do you feel it? How you've hurt my vagina?" she asked. But her voice was not accusatory, but eager, almost gleeful. "Isn't it simply marvellous, to be able to do such terrible things to a woman's most intimate, private parts? And to have her beg you for it. To be able to truly indulge yourself with a woman's cunt like this."

Richard grinned at her. "I love it. I always wonder if women fantasise about their boyfriends or husbands doing dreadful things to their vaginas."

Sally nodded. "Oh they do. It's the secret desires of so many women. Men are too gentle, too nice. And they'd never dare ask." She looked him in the eye. "You will hurt me. You'll do whatever you like, and you won't hold back. And I want it, I love it too." She watched breathlessly as Richard wrapped the string around his fingers, and she braced her feet against the seat so that she wouldn't be pulled onto the floor. Their eyes met, and she clenched her teeth when she saw the muscles of his arm tense.

Richard jerked his hand sharply, and the disks came shooting out of Sally's body in a flash of silver. Each washer had a slight twist to it, and they all scraped along the soft lining of her vagina as they were ejected in quick succession. This time there was blood, and if it had been reality he would have been alarmed, enough perhaps to call an ambulance. Sally's scream was loud, but not from panic, but ecstatic joy as she was ravaged so dreadfully by his hand. The way she twitched, pounded the couch with her feet, and clenched her teeth showed her delight and raw agony. She clamped her thighs together and rolled over on her side, moaning and gasping. It felt as if her vagina had been pulled inside out and shredded. She felt the warm wetness of blood mixed with juices coating her inner thighs. For an incongruous second, she worried about staining the couch. "Oh god, that hurts so bad. My poor vagina, I think you've ruined it." Then despite the shattering agony, she had the strongest urge to look, to see the damage, not out of fear, but from a hot, throbbing fascination. She forced her trembling limbs to work, and pushed herself back into the wide-splayed seated position. Conscious of Richard's avid gaze, she reached down and spread her pussy lips, wincing at the added pain. Even from the limited angle the tears and bruises to her vaginal opening were clearly visible. "Look at that," she whispered in fascination. She suddenly wished she had an audience, both men and women, who could see what had been done to her pussy and how she had allowed it to happen. They would watch her, fascinated and repulsed as she was defiled in ways they couldn't imagine. That thought alone made her clitoris twitch and throb. She closed her eyes, savouring the painful spasms as her abused vaginal muscles contracted, then forced herself to spread her labia as wide as she could. She smiled at Richard when she saw his gaze. "Do you like how my poor pussy looks? I really do love having it hurt."

He nodded in agreement, and leaned over to touch her swollen vulva. "It appears you do indeed. And that's a rare and precious thing."

"Promise me you'll come back and do more," she said, pleased by the odd compliment.

Richard patted her knee and smiled. "I promise. I'll be back, and together we'll find the most awful and painful things to do to your cunt."

"And I'll spread myself open wide to let you do it, no matter how terrible the torture. I'd love to stand still and present my clitoris to you so you can utterly destroy it. Slowly and lovingly. That would be so great. The idea of forcing myself to stay still, and to watch as my clit is horribly tortured just sends shivers up my spine." Then she grinned. "But I still owe you one more orgasm." Her vagina still hurt so bad she wanted to curl up and whimper, but instead she spread her knees wide, pulled back the fleshy hood, and began vigorously to rub her clitoris. It was harsh and uncomfortable, and not the way she would ordinarily masturbate, but she wanted to force an orgasm out of her clit as an offering to him. The struggle to feel pleasure through the burning agony in her vagina was a greater endeavour than the other times, but she refused to be defeated, and rubbed her clit so hard that it quickly became sore. But this only served to turn her on even more, and her hips began to writhe. "I can do it. I'll come for you, no matter how badly you hurt my vagina, my cervix, my uterus," she rasped, her tone almost a chant, a hymn to the gods of pain. Then she felt the inner tightening that signalled her impending orgasm. She grunted and jerked, her clit feeling unbearably sore, but the powerful contractions continued, and she rode the cresting waves of agony and ecstasy.

When she had calmed down enough to pay attention, Richard kissed her forehead and said, "You've had an exciting time, and now you know the truth of what happened. It's time for you to wake up and stop worrying people. Let me handle Linda. I promise she'll get what's coming to her, and she'll never harm you again."

Sally nodded. "I'll try. Come visit me in the hospital. I want to thank you in person." She grinned. "Don't worry, I won't mention my crazy dreams. I'd rather not end up in a mental hospital after recovering from a coma."

Chapter Five.

The next day, Richard checked the news and saw no mention of a woman confessing to assault and battery. He looked up Sally's workplace and when he called, he learned that Linda was still at work. It was plain that she had decided she'd just had a bad dream, or that bad dreams were better than facing the law. Towards the evening, he got an email from Debbie, sent to the anonymous email account he had set up for that purpose, confirming that Sally had woken up. The doctors were not allowing visitors yet, but the news made Richard punch the air in delight, and he raised a glass of port wine in a toast to her health. Now that he had established a link with Linda's dreamscape, he didn't need a token or guide, so he went to bed with a big smile on his face. Most of the time, he looked for women who wanted his visits. Some because they were masochists, while others because he gave them the dreams they longed for in exchange for sadistic sex. But once in a while, there were women who deserved a proper nightmare. Like Linda.

***

Richard wasn't really surprised when he entered Linda's dream and found himself back at the scene of the attack again. It was clear that Linda was obsessed with her supposed vengeance against her imagined rival. What did surprise him was that Linda's vision of the attack had grown even more violent, and she was beating and kicking Sally mercilessly, cursing and gloating all the while. For a moment, he worried that she was insane, but he could feel her emotions and thoughts, and it was clear that she was simply a really nasty, insecure, and jealous person. "Hi Linda. Remember me?" he said, and allowed her enough time to realise who he was before he snapped his fingers.

The world swirled, and Linda suddenly found herself naked and reclining in some kind of gynaecological chair. Unlike an ordinary chair, the struts supporting the stirrups were solid chrome steel rods, and her ankles were strapped to the stirrups. Another set of straps went around her legs just above the knees, attaching them to the struts and preventing her from even attempting to close her thighs. Her wrists were fastened by leather shackles just above her head. A padded section cradled her back and head, allowing her to be semi-upright, but at the same time completely immobilised. There was no way she could move or escape. She stared around the room in alarm, taking in the array of medical equipment, including a tray of surgical instruments that gleamed threateningly in the brightly lit room.

"I thought we'd have a classier environment this time," Richard said, waving at the Hollywood version of a doctor's surgery. The air even smelled of medical alcohol and antiseptics. Faintly in the background, soothing music played, and there was even a jar of lollipops. He shook his head slowly. "You disappoint me," he said. "You broke your promise."

"No! You're just a nightmare. You're not real. I'm going to wake up from this stupid dream," Linda said, her tone a mixture of anger and apprehension. She struggled against the chair, bruising herself against the straps.

"This is a dream," Richard said. "But a dream I control. A dream in which things only happen because I want it to." He made a tutting sound. "You broke your promise to me." He held up his hand to cut off her protests. "I don't care what you thought. A promise is a promise, and there are consequences for breaking your word. I'm going to hurt you, or more specifically, I'm going to hurt your cunt. Why your cunt? Because it's what I enjoy. When I'm done with the first round, we can chat again, but until then, nothing you say will change anything." She started to yell at him, but again he cut her off with a curt gesture. "However, if you annoy me with your bad manners, I might be a bit more — severe."

Linda's mouth closed with a snap. Despite her waspish demeanour, she wasn't stupid, and she remembered their previous encounter. A glint of cunning lit her eyes. "Will you go easier on me if I'm good? I'm sure I can please you," she said, purring sensually.

Richard tilted his head. "Good? Perhaps. But you'll have to show me. See these three needles?" He snapped his fingers and three hypodermic needles appeared in his palm. "Ask me nicely to stick them into your clitoris, and then hold completely still while I do it, with no cursing or screaming. Then thank me for it afterwards. Manage that, and I might let you negotiate each punishment rather than simply doing whatever I please."

Linda's eyes went wide, but then narrowed again as she considered his proposal. The idea of having three needles driven into her clitoris scared her badly, but it was clear from her last nightmare that this guy was a real sadist, and that he would just hurt her anyway. Anything she could do to control the situation would be an improvement. If pain was what he wanted, perhaps she could seduce him with her willingness to cooperate. She bit back her fury and smiled sweetly. "All right. If that's what you want, I'll play along." She took a deep breath, fighting for calm. "Please stick those needles into my clit. I'll hold very still, and be quiet while you do it." The thought terrified her, but she couldn't see any other option. If she struggled when he pierced her, it might do severe damage and hurt much worse. She flinched when the man pulled back her clitoral hood and gripped her clitoris between thumb and forefinger. As the needle's point approached her flesh, she felt dizzy with fear and instinctually wanted to scream, but she managed to remain still, even when the point touched her skin, and very slowly, he began to push. Because her clit was so incredibly sensitive, the pain began even before the needle broke her skin. It was almost electrical, crackling through her nerves like invisible fire. She nearly bit her tongue in the struggle not to scream, as she watched in horrified fascination as the needle sank into her clit. It hurt worse than anything she had ever experienced before in her life, especially because it was somehow sexual in an awful kind of way. Her breath came in faint whimpering gasps as the pain just grew and grew. She threw her head from side to side as if to deny what she was feeling, while he ever so slowly pushed the needle into her clit. "It hurts, it hurts —" she said over and over, like a chant. "Oh please, I can't bear it. It hurts so bad," she moaned.

"But that's the whole point, isn't it," Richard said, and chuckled at the unintended pun. "I'm going to hurt your clit, worse than you can imagine, and you will keep asking me to do it, as if it was the greatest thing you've ever felt. If you don't, then I'll feel free to just wreck your cunt with knives and hot irons." With that, he pushed the needle even deeper into her clit.

The metal frame of the chair creaked as Linda's every muscle tensed and quivered in agony. She thought she might faint, but nothing happened, except for more and more pain flooding her pussy. She almost cried out in relief when he stopped pushing the needle. Tears flooded her eyes when she saw him hold up the second needle. He raised an eyebrow and she gulped. "P-please stick it into my clit," she said, even though her mind screamed a rejection. The fear and pain was making her vagina throb and grow wet, even though she knew it was crazy. When the man's thumb and forefinger closed on her clit again, she couldn't help moaning in protest. Simply squeezing her clit hurt because of the first needle that was still buried in her flesh. The needle jabbed into her clit and she bit down so hard she feared a tooth might crack. Her wrists jerked painfully against the leather bands holding them above her head, which made her breasts rock and quiver. She wanted to scream in denial when he held up the third needle, but gulped when he snapped a finger and held up a box full of even larger needles. "Please stick — stick it into my clit," she sobbed. She jerked when he jabbed the point into her clit, and bit back a scream when he twisted the needle around to find a way past the other two needles. His technique was masterful, and after only a few seconds of horrible agony, the last needle was also embedded in her clitoris.

"Wasn't that fun?" Richard asked. He tilted his head. "You have something to say?"

Linda nodded frantically. "I'll do it. I'll confess. I swear. Don't hurt me any more …"

"Sorry, don't believe you." He didn't mention that now that he was focusing, he could tell she was insincere because it impinged on her dream. "You get to try again later. But for now …" Richard snapped his fingers, and the needles disappeared. Another snap, and a mini blowtorch-style butane lighter appeared in his hand. It had an angled nozzle that allowed the flame to be aimed rather than simply going upwards. "You have a nice clit. Let's warm it up a bit, shall we?" He ignored her panicked babbling. "As before, I'm going to singe your clit, oh, let's say six times, and you'll ask me nicely to do it. If you don't, I'll just roast your clit. Ready?" Without waiting for an answer, he clicked the lighter on and held the flame close to her clit. "I'm waiting."

The threat made Linda go silent. The blue-white flame licked at her clitoris, but it didn't burn yet. The intense heat was like a hot wind against her skin, but it only got worse as he held it there, almost caressing her sensitive organ with the hissing jet of flame. It was like an acid eating away at her flesh, and it wasn't even touching her yet. "P-please burn my clit," she said, but then she couldn't help herself and began to swear when the flame actually licked over her clit.

Richard shook his head regretfully. "There'll be a penalty for that. Let me see, how about a touch of heat on your arsehole." He shifted the lighter down to her tightly clenched anus. "This is a penalty, so it doesn't count."

Linda screamed when the flame touched her arsehole. The sensation of burning was shocking, like being touched by a red-hot iron. She kicked and struggled in a futile attempt to get away from the awful heat, but nothing happened except that the pain got worse.

"Say thank you," Richard said, as he painted her arsehole with the tip of the flame.

"Aargh! Thank you. Thank you. Please stop, I can't bear it," Linda cried. She had never even imagined having her anus tortured like this. Anal sex was something she had always refused, and she had even broken off with otherwise desirable boyfriends who requested it.

"Now then. Where were we?" Richard asked, pressing the trigger of the lighter in short bursts, as if signalling with the flame.

It took a moment for Linda to stop panting and gasping. She was unaware that Richard had prevented the severe burns that the flame would have caused in real life, although she had experienced every bit of the pain, and she feared that her anus was ruined. Shuddering in terror, she forced herself to say the words. "Please burn my clit." She jumped when the flame ignited. The sensation was much more powerful this time, as if the earlier pain had sensitised the nerves. Her pussy felt hot and swollen, and she imagined the nerve endings in her clitoris being seared away. Although she didn't scream, her body shook and jerked against the restraints hard enough to make the chair rattle against the floor.

"If you'd like a rest, I could burn the rest of your cunt for a while," Richard offered helpfully.

Linda shook her head violently. She wanted to cry and beg, but instead forced herself to speak. "Please burn my clit some more." Even as she said the words, she told herself that this was insane, that she didn't want this, that he was torturing her, and that he needed to stop right now. But she knew it would only bring even worse pain down on her. The hissing flame kissed her clit again, and she almost screamed, but for the knowledge that it would just make him repeat the last burn. The pain in her clit was fierce and terrifying. Three more. It was impossible. She couldn't bear it. Except she had no choice. "Mercy. It hurts so bad. I can't stand it," she moaned.

Richard sighed dramatically. "I suppose I'll just have to make do with grilling your vagina, then." He spread her vaginal orifice with his fingers and studied it thoughtfully as he clicked on the lighter.

"Please burn my clit," Linda cried, panicked at the thought of the flame reaching deep inside her vagina. Despite all the pain, she clearly felt Richard pull back on her clitoral hood to completely expose her to the flame. She imagined herself fainting, or waking up, or suddenly being in a field of pretty flowers, but nope, the lighter ignited, and her legs tried to wrench free of the straps. Of course, nothing happened, at least nothing good, and then the flame licked her clit again. Her jaw creaked under the strain, and she thumped the back of her head against the chair as unbearable agony bit down on her clit like fiery jaws. She whined and dug her fingernails into her palms, helpless to do anything other than endure.

In reality her clit would have been horribly burned by now, but here in her dream only the pain was real, while her clit was only red and sore, like a bad sunburn. Richard smiled as Linda struggled, pale faced, to bear the intense agony as he continued to play the flame over her clit for the last two times. He was rarely so harsh on his dream victims, most of whom actually welcomed his visits, but in this case his sadistic pleasure was secondary to breaking Linda's will. "Six," he said, with a regretful sigh as he drank in her suffering. He put the lighter down and patted her pubic mound. "Now, is there anything you want to say to me?"

Linda was almost hysterical in her eagerness to convince him that she would confess the moment she woke up. "Don't hurt me any more. I'll be good, I swear. Just give me a chance. You'll see," she babbled.

Richard flicked her throbbing clitoris, making her jump and yelp, then nodded. "All right. One more chance. If I have to come back …" He snapped his fingers and a surgical scalpel appeared in his hand. "… I'll do some creative carving." He stroked her cunt threateningly. "And I won't stop."

***

The next day, Richard chuckled to see the internet news filled with videos about the woman who was almost violent in her determination to confess to an assault that she had committed. A call to the hospital informed him that Sally was able to receive visitors, so in the afternoon he bought a bunch of flowers and a box of chocolates, and drove over to visit her.

Sally was sitting up in bed, and waved when she saw him approaching. "Hello stranger," she said with a grin. "Ooh, chocolates. My favourite." She nodded at the flowers. "Not many men bring flowers these days. They're beautiful."

Richard handed her the flowers and then set the chocolates down on the bed beside her. "So how are you doing?" he asked as he pulled up a folding chair and sat down.

Sally waved at herself. "I'm awake, so I guess I'm good." She patted various parts of her anatomy including her groin, grinned, and said, "Everything seems to be working, and I'm only here because the doctor wants to make sure I won't drop back into a coma for some reason."

"I'm glad. And I've got news. Linda has confessed to the police about attacking you, and she's been taken into custody," Richard said. "So you don't have to worry about her any more."

"Confessed? I wonder why she would do that?" Sally said, giving him a significant look.

"I have no idea. Guilty conscience, maybe?" he said innocently.

Sally nodded. "Or maybe she's been having bad dreams," she said archly.

Richard shrugged. "Who knows. I hear guilt can cause nightmares. Quite unpleasant ones."

"I wonder if she has trouble sitting down," Sally said with a wicked grin.

"No rest for the wicked," Richard said, waggling his eyebrows.

Sally reached out and touched his hand. "Will I be seeing you again?"

Richard knew she wasn't talking about hospital visits. "You should concentrate on making sure you're fully recovered," he said. He saw the disappointment in her face and squeezed her fingers. "But I'll definitely be thinking of you in my dreams."

***

Sally was standing inside the bookshop when Richard entered her dream, browsing at the same shelf where they had first met. "Looking for more books?" he said.

She pointed at the titles and said, "Looking for inspiration." She grinned. "I've been dreaming about you. Normal dreams."

Richard kissed her on the cheek, his hand on the small of her back. "Anything good?"

Her nose wrinkled. "I'm not sure. I keep dreaming about meeting you here, and thinking that I'm not wearing any knickers. But so far, nothing happens past that point. It's really frustrating."

"And, are you? Wearing knickers, I mean," Richard said.

Sally looked around dramatically, then shifted one foot to the side. "Why don't you find out? Nobody seems to be watching." She sighed happily when his hand slid under the short skirt of her floral print summer dress to cup her bare pussy. "Finally." Then her brow furrowed. "Am I being too forward? Should I be more modest?"

With a gentle squeeze of her cunt, Richard shook his head. "There's a difference between enthusiasm and being deliberately slutty. I think you're charming."

"Flattery will definitely get you into my pussy," Sally said. "I love this, you know." She looked down at his arm. "Allowing you to grope my pussy, knowing that I'll permit just about anything, whether it makes me moan or scream. It feels like sitting right at the top of a roller coaster." She closed her eyes and sighed when two fingers roughly pushed into her vagina, the feeling of violation and intrusion making her want to grin. Of course, she had been fingered by lovers before, even by another woman back in university, but they had always been caressing her, and trying to make her feel good. But Richard's fingers dug into her vagina, poking, scraping, and stretching, simply because he wanted to, and to make her accept and endure treatment that was humiliating, and at the very least, uncomfortable. It demonstrated to her that her vagina and cervix were his to play with and use, and not the precious and sacred femininity that had to be treated with respect and even awe. And this was before he even began to hurt her in earnest. The thing was, she liked it. In fact, she craved it. It aroused her beyond words, and tiny semi-orgasmic tremors shook her pussy with every movement of his fingers inside of her. Of course, her vagina was fully healed from the previous dream session, so she looked forward to having her pussy wrecked all over again. His fingertips found her G-spot and her knees almost buckled when he worked it vigorously, pressing and rubbing hard, painfully hard. Then he kissed her, and she pressed her breasts against him as their lips locked. His hooked fingers dug even harder into her G-Spot, and she moaned into his mouth when he pulled up hard, as if trying to lift her up by the grip on her pubic bone. It hurt, in an odd kind of way, as her vagina was both stretched and crushed by the pressure. She rose onto her toes, but slowly, so as not to avoid the stabbing tips of his fingers. "I'd really love to spread myself open for you to look at, but this is so good," she murmured before kissing him again.

Richard continued to jerk his hand up and down, making Sally bounce on her toes, and he felt wetness run down his hand from her cunt. He heard her sigh when he eased the pressure and withdrew his fingers. He snapped them, and Sally was naked. His arms went around her waist. Holding her like that, he bent to kiss and lightly bite her nipples, noting as he did so the delicate fragrance of expensive perfume mixed with the natural scent of a clean, healthy young woman. Sally's mind must have added that touch.

The almost painful nip of Richard's teeth on her nipples made her squeeze her thighs together. Before she could say anything, the pressure of his bite intensified, and pain, bright and clean as mountain spring water, rushed through her breasts and down all the way to her toes. The pain made her nipples stiffen even more, and the contrast between the agony in her breasts and the sweet pleasure of the fingers lightly stroking her back and buttocks made her shiver. She groaned when he bit down harder, and she put her hands on his shoulders for balance as she leaned back. It was like being a slave on an auction block, her breasts displayed and offered to the buyer. "You like that, don't you," she said, half statement and half question.

"Tasty," Richard said with a grin.

"I'm more focused on my pussy, but nipples are good too," Sally said, smiling back.

Richard toyed with her nipples until she was moaning and breathing heavily, then kissed her lips again and pointed to the padded bench that had suddenly appeared along the wall. "You wanted to show me your cunt. Squat on that bench, your back against the wall, and knees spread wide."

Sally eagerly scrambled to obey, dropping into a deep squat that forced her thighs shockingly wide apart. Without being told, her fingers gripped and pulled hard, to part her outer lips so that her pussy was on full display like the most explicit of soft-core porn images, or perhaps a medical diagram. The position made her feel incredibly exposed, and it was wonderful. It also made it hard for her to flinch or to press her thighs together. Her pussy tingled madly in anticipation of the terrible things that were surely coming. Her clit itched and throbbed, as if demanding attention.

Richard stood in front of her, admiring the view. Sally's labia had opened like a blooming flower, her pink inner labia and bright pink clitoris peeking out from behind its hood, and he could see the wetness that glistened in the opening to her vagina. The scent of her arousal was thick in the air. He flicked her clit with a finger, making her jump, then rubbed it with his thumb until it was engorged and quivering. He snapped his fingers and a yoga mat appeared on the floor in front of her, and he sat down, bringing his face level with her tautly spread vulva. "That's something truly worth looking at," he said.

Sally giggled. "It's so hot. Showing it like this. If it wouldn't give my parents simultaneous heart attacks, and get me fired from my job, I'd do adult modelling as a pastime, just so I'd have an excuse to show it off to photographers and videographers. But of course, they wouldn't do the other thing."

"Other thing?" Richard said, running his fingertip around her vaginal opening.

Sally stuck her tongue out at him. "Don't be mean. You know what I'm talking about. Torture. Of my pussy. Hurting it, slowly and deliciously."

"So I should hurt this pretty little thing?" Richard asked teasingly.

"Isn't that what pussies are for?" she said innocently. "All those nerves and sensitive spots, so delicate but tough, it almost seems like it was designed to be the location of choice if you want to hurt a woman's body." She twitched her hips. "And there's so much of it. You can reach deep inside and find my cervix, and if you really try, you can even get to my womb. Torturing a woman's uterus. How sexy is that. And you know what's even more sexy?"

"What?" Richard asked, playing along.

"That this woman will let you do it to her. No struggling or running away. Tell me you want to hurt my clit, and I'll offer it to you. Say you want to wreck my vagina, and I'll spread wide for you to do it." Her voice was throaty, almost purring. Her pussy was engorged and visibly aroused.

Richard made a fist, and showed it to her. When she nodded, he lightly punched her cunt, careful to avoid directly striking her pubic bone.

Sally yelped when Richard punched her cunt, and she felt the shock right down to her bones. The blow wasn't particularly hard, but it was still more powerful than a slap or a pinch. "Wow, that was different," she said, her pussy throbbing from the blow. Unlike being slapped or hit with a whip, there was little sting, but more of a deep pulsing ache. The blow had also sent a jolt deep into her belly. She gasped when he punched her pussy again, and she pushed down with her inner muscles, opening her internal sex organs to more of the impact. The punches continued, and she was surprised to find the effect very erotic. She was disappointed when he stopped, and she looked questioningly at him.

"I don't want to bruise your cunt too much right now," he said. He snapped his fingers, and a strange-looking novelty ball pen appeared. It had the usual steel tip, but the body of the pen was perhaps thirty centimetres long, and made of a slightly flexible red plastic, with a black knob attached to the other end. Another snap caused a speculum and a short length of large and thick transparent plastic hose to appear on the bench. "I never got around to playing with your cervix and uterus previously, so it's time to give them some attention."

Sally licked her lips. "Should I change my position?" She was actually quite enjoying this pose, and the way it made her pussy feel pushed out and really vulnerable. She held her breath when Richard pushed the speculum into her vagina, which was wet enough that the transparent plastic leaves slid in easily. Her vagina ached sweetly as Richard opened the speculum to the maximum, stretching her so hard and so fast that she felt her hole might tear. But this was just the preparation, and she pressed her back against the wall and concentrated on keeping her knees wide apart, letting him use her vagina as he wished. Then, when her hole gaped wide, she felt him push the plastic tube all the way in until its rim encircled and embraced her cervix.

Richard braced a palm against her pubic bone, gripped the speculum with his other hand and pulled without closing the long jaws, so the opening of her vagina was stretched even more. He held the end of the clear tube with his thumb so that it wouldn't be pulled out too, as slowly, agonisingly, the speculum withdrew, until at last it came free. He watched her vagina contract around the tube until at last there was a dark pink shaded tunnel leading into her body and down to her cervix. Using his dream powers, he adjusted the lighting so that he could clearly see the glistening pink dome, and the tiny opening at its centre. He looked up at her face and smiled. "There. Now I can see your cervix. Let's have a little fun with it."

Sally's vaginal muscles clenched hard as she nodded. Her belly rippled as she tried to push her uterus and cervix down towards him, offering it for his pleasure. She saw him insert the novelty pen into her vagina and tensed when the chill metal of its pointed tip touched her cervix. It jabbed, searching for the opening. It hurt, in a new and different way. "Yes, play with my cervix. Rip it open and find my womb."

Richard smiled when she squealed as he finally stabbed her cervical opening, and the tip of the pen dipped in, its cone shape slowly stretching the red flecked hole.

Sally yelped when her cervix was stabbed, and she pushed herself hard against the wall, her back scraping the hard surface. It was like a sharp jab against a bruise. She bit her lip as her cervix was stabbed again, and fingers of pain reached into her womb. The very core of her genitalia was being attacked, and she experienced a rush of fear and excitement like nothing she had ever felt before. She moaned as her cervical opening was stretched more and more, causing a cramping pain to flow through her abdomen. She gasped when the tip of the pen fully penetrated her cervix, the plastic shaft lodged tightly, with the metal tip reaching into her uterus. He let the pen rest in that position and said, "Come for me." When Sally began stroking her clitoris, he gripped the knob and rapped at the long plastic shaft of the novelty pen, sending juddering vibrations rocking through her cervix and into her womb. Sally gasped, pain flaring from her cervix as the pen violently flexed and twisted at her cervical opening. But her grimace of pain was combined with an incongruous smile. The thought that her delicate cervix was being forcefully stretched and jerked about by the intruding pen made her clitoris tingle. She had often fantasised about having her actual genitalia tortured and deliberately injured by someone simply for their pleasure and amusement, and it aroused her like nothing else. She rubbed her clitoris hard and fast, the pain in her cervix somehow blending with the intense pleasure to form something even better. "I'm nearly there," she said. Richard rapped harder, and she felt her orgasm build, carried along by the waves of agony that filled her abdomen. Then it peaked, and she cried out in triumph and amazement. It felt so very good.

Richard gave her a moment to enjoy her orgasm, then carefully started to push the pen deeper. He had to ensure that he didn't actually perforate her uterus. Since this was a dream, there was no risk to Sally's health. But at least for now, he didn't want her to experience traumatic injury, even though he suspected she would actually enjoy it. He pushed and probed with the tip of the ball pen until he felt the point strike the rear wall of her uterus. Cautiously, he pushed the point against her flesh. "How does that feel?" he asked. He had never played with a woman's womb before, and he was curious.

Sally narrowed her eyes, and her lips pursed as if she was deep in thought. "I can definitely feel it. There's a kind of cramping pain, but … ooh!" She gasped when Richard jabbed harder with the pen. "Now that hurt. Do it some more," she said. Real pain pulsed in her womb, and even her cervix ached strongly. Her heart pounded as the realisation that her womb itself was being tortured struck her. The pressure of the pen's tip continued to increase, and she moaned. "Yes, that's it, hurt my womb." Cramping pain filled her pussy, and more intense bursts of agony stung her womb as Richard continued to explore the lining of her uterus with the pointed steel tip, scraping and jabbing. It was terrifying, and yet so amazingly exhilarating, and once again she pushed her knees back and hips forward, straining to present her genitals to whatever horrors Richard chose to inflict upon them. She often wished there was more porn that suited her tastes, but sadly the more delicate forms of pussy torture often didn't translate well to video. Richard's command to masturbate shook her out of her reverie, and she smiled happily as she carefully exposed her clitoris and let him look at it for a moment, before commencing to rub her fingers in quick circles over it. As she expected, the pen pressed painfully into her womb, maintaining a constant stabbing pain which subtly varied in intensity as Richard pressed and eased the jabbing pressure of the pen's pointed tip. Those movements also stimulated her vagina and cervix at the same time, and flooded her being with burning sexual sensations. "Stop for a moment," Richard said. When she ceased masturbating and looked at him inquiringly, he smiled and said, "Your clit has been having it too easy. Show it to me."

Sally immediately understood, and eagerly pulled her clitoral hood back to bare her clit, her pussy practically buzzing in anticipation. She gasped when Richard snapped his fingers and produced a piece of sandpaper, which was folded into a narrow strip, resembling a short ruler. She closed her eyes and groaned when Richard pressed the rough surface against her clitoris. The touch was painful and yet wonderfully stimulating, the abrasive surface both scratching and caressing. She hissed in pain and shock when Richard began rubbing the sandpaper back and forth across her clit, the rough surface scraping, then digging painfully into the tip. Her thighs twitched and flexed as she endured the sensation, her pussy clenching in response to the almost overwhelming sensation that shook her being. Then, just when the pain was about to peak, Richard stopped, leaving her clit raw and almost bleeding.

"Now come for me," Richard said, going back to jabbing at her uterus with the pen.

Sally's pussy was a mass of pain now, hurting both inside and out, and she knew that rubbing her clitoris was going to hurt badly, but she didn't hesitate to obey, and resumed masturbating her red and swollen clit. She immediately hissed in pain, but her fingers didn't stop. The frightening feeling of the steel pen tip roughly exploring her uterus only drove her on, helping her to overcome the pain of touching her abraded clitoris, and to find the extreme sexuality that still thrummed powerfully beneath the constant agony. She continued to play with herself, her moans growing louder as pain and pleasure swirled in her mind and body. "I'm very close," she said, every nerve and muscle straining, and grunted when Richard jabbed her womb harder. But this fresh assault on her genitals actually enhanced her arousal, and she cried out wordlessly, her rubbing fingers a blur. Then her body shuddered violently and the back of her head thumped against the wall as her orgasm crashed over her like surging waves of heat and vibration.

Richard let the pen disappear and reached out to catch Sally's suddenly limp form as she toppled forward into his arms. He kissed and stroked her sweat-slick back as she clung to him, still shuddering and moaning. He was tremendously aroused himself, but didn't want to spoil the moment for her, so he just enjoyed the feeling of her naked body and the obvious pleasure and pain that racked her being.

*** A short while later, they sat snuggled together on a comfortable sofa that Richard had created, sipping hot chocolate laced with whisky. "That was incredible," Sally said, in a satisfied voice. Her clit and uterus still throbbed and ached, but she refused to let Richard heal her because she wanted to savour the effects and memory of what had happened.

Richard said, "Sally, I need you to know that I can't visit —"

Sally pressed her fingertips to his lips. "I know. I wouldn't want you to. It would be far too easy to become obsessed with — this," she said, waving a hand around to indicate the dream world. "I'd quickly come to live for my dreams, instead of living my life." She smiled. "But —"

Richard smiled back, and reached down to gently pinch her swollen clitoris, and chuckled when she hissed in pain but made no attempt to remove his hand. "I was going to say, I can't visit you every night, or even promise to see you every week. But I'll be in your dreams whenever I can. If you want me to, of course."

Sally pressed his hand against her pussy and nodded. "Anytime. I'll always be ready to come and to scream for you."