Recent Dream-Related Stories (M, F, cold, allergies)

[starpollen]

So, this week I am on holiday from the school where I am a teacher.  And for some reason my dreams have been super vivid, and super fetish-related.  So.  Here are 3 snippets of my dreams, as I remember them and typed them out upon waking.  I am hoping to continue each but would welcome some suggestions / prompts to do so.  If I have further dream prompts I will post them here for additional suggestions / encouragements to continue.  

It has been a while since I was blessed by the Muse, so I am hoping this is a sign of further good things to come! 

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Dragon Queen

Her costume was that of a dragon.

To be fair, it was much more elegant and subtle, but it was still obvious.  The sinewy green fabric was encrusted completely with gems in a variety of hues ranging from rusty brown to deep green, arranged in a pattern that was unmistakably scales.  Her simple black domino was shaped with elegant horns that spiraled up from her fair hair, the eyes hooded to cloak her human features.  Instead, ear bobs were attached to the sides of the mask, twin polished emeralds in each set one atop the other giving the unmistakable effect of glowing serpentine irises. 

“So,” she purred as she glided to press that willowy body against me.  “What do you think?”

As always, she had rendered me speechless. 

“I’m in the mood to play a little,” the queen murmured, long elegant fingers brushing up the front of my black velvet tunic and fingering lightly at the silver clasps barely containing my heaving breaths.  So mesmerized by her nearness, I didn’t register what she held in her other hand until it was too late.

A slender pine needle. To which I am horribly allergic.  

With gentle deftness she inserted it into my left nostril and began to tease.  The combination of the prickly prodding and the microscopic shedding of its pollen had an immediate effect. 

“Eihh?...” 

The prickle spread like wildfire, causing my breath to begin hitching even as my eyes fluttered helplessly. 

From somewhere behind her - echoing off the stone walls of the royal apartments - came a resounding, “AAHHH–EEESSHHHIIEEEWWWWW!” 

“The king has another cold, you know,” she cooed into my ear, one hand stroking the front of my trews where my phallus was straining against the fabric.  “I won’t stay long at the masque tonight.  I’ll have to … tend to him.”

Hearing that blasting sneeze made my own nose burn with urgent need.  But I knew what she wanted.  I tried desperately to hold back, tears squeezing from beneath my lashes as my breath hitched and nostrils flared uncontrollably.

Finally, she stepped back and my hands flew to my face, pinching my nostrils shut.

“Hmmpt-xch!-xch-xch-xch-xch-xcht!

I could never sneeze fully in front of her.  Actually I could never sneeze in front of anybody, really, at all.  But she has always rendered me completely helpless to her manipulations. 

“Bless,” she purred, giving me one more sultry caress before sauntering back to the party.  I remained wilted against the wall, my sinuses - and other areas - thoroughly agitated. 

 

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The Little Witch

The little witch had a cold. 

To be fair, while this witch was physically petite she was, in fact, over 300 years old.  Her tiny stature, however, often deceived others into thinking she was a child. 

That is, until she sneezed. 

Standing in front of her bewitched mirror, dabbing the damp hanky to her red nose, her droopy eyes blinked slowly at her sister’s image in the glass. 

“I told you not to fly when it was sleeting! In such thick icy rain you were bound to fall ill,” Esmelda chided.  “Now, look at the state of you!”

While her sister’s words had been chiming through the mirror and echoing off the stone walls of her cave, the little witch’s nostrils had flared wide, her chin quivering, lips parting as her shoulders heaved with a deep gasp.

“Ah!--ktsCHheew!” she sneezed wetly into her hanky. 

Immediately, there was a distinct ‘pop’ and her creamy skin turned green, the little button nose long and hooked with a lovely mole near the tip, blonde curls now stringy and gray. 

“Poison,” Esmelda muttered.

“Thagk you, sister dear,” the little witch’s voice was now thin and reedy, slowly succumbing to congestion.  “But what I really deed is bother’s potiod recipe.”  A thick drop of moisture slowly began to drip from a long nostril, but a hearty sniffle sucked it back up.  “Cad you lay your hadds od it or dot?”

“Yes, yes,” Esmelda’s bony hand waved the air dismissively. “But there is no value in it unless you have all the ingredients!” Her beady witch’s eye came close to her side of the glass, peering at her littlest sister as the ill creature hitched her way to another sneeze.

“Ehh?--TSCHhhieeww–scchHIIooo!” Two pops, the first a flash of blonde curls before the second brought back to stringy gray.  The little witch’s head slowly tilted back, revealing some snaggled teeth as she drew another stuttering breath, then… “HAH!!--SCHHIIeeeoooo!” 

Pop!

A small girl with red-rimmed blue eyes dabbed gingerly at flushed nostrils on her button nose with a nearly-ruined hanky.

“Poison,” Esmelda was beyond exasperated.  “Why haven’t you at least spelled the cloth?”

“I… hh??--” the rose-petal lips quivered with a near-sneeze, but at the last second it receded. “I’b too draided,” the little witch’s voice was thick with the not-quite-vanished sneeze.  “I deed the potiod first.”  Dropping the sodden cloth with a wet squelch, her delicate hand reached for a fresh hanky from a nearby stack.  Azure eyes squeezing shut, she attempted to blow but only managed a weak squeaking honk.  “Cobe od, sis,” her voice now dulcet and sweet as she massaged her cold-ridden nostrils. “I cad’t go od ligke th-hhh… thihh…”  The sneeze slowly crept back, causing her child-like features to collapse from china-doll perfection to helplessly sneezy.  “EhhhheehhehehhhhIIISSSHHHHIIEEWwwww!” 

Pop!

The massive sneeze bent the witch in half, and when she slowly straightened she was sniffling her long, green nose like mad.  “Cad’t go od ligke this,” she wheezed, delving bony fingers up into those long, damp nostrils with the hanky to get at the perpetual tickle. 

Esmelda huffed with annoyance.  “Oh, very well,” she pointed a bony finger at the cloth in her sister’s hand and then at the sodden wreck on the floor.  “Apogee perigree.”  Both cloths flared fluorescent green, then settled back into their natural black state.  “At least you can have dry handkerchiefs until you can make the potion.”  Waving both hands in a complicated pattern, she then called, “Epogee parishet feclund.”  

A heavy book landed on a nearby wooden table with a dull thud. 

“By thagks, sister dear,” the little witch waved the now perpetually dry hanky at the mirror before turning away to find the recipe.  “Ahh–TSSHhiieooo!”  The sneeze snuck up on her, resulting in a twinkling cloud of spray.

Pop!

“Poison,” the sister muttered with a roll of her beady eyes. “Just try not to sneeze in the potion,” before the glass in the mirror went blank.

 

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Aliens

My boyfriend is insanely allergic to tree pollen.  From mid-February until late May he’s always sneezing up a storm: swollen red nose, dripping nostrils, constantly hitching breaths and volleys of wet sneezes.

“Atchu!-chu!-chu!... atchu-atchu!-AHHtchu!”

And he loves it.

He says there’s nothing better than a good, satisfying sneeze when he’s all tickly.

I love it, too.  His sneezes are incredibly sexy.

The problem?

We’ve been invaded by aliens.  They’ve introduced a virus into the population that kills unless we are turned into one of them.  

And they don’t sneeze. 

We've been evading them for over a month, and it keeps getting harder and harder.  Because Troy's nose nearly gives us away every time. 

At this rate, they are going to catch us any day now. 

Edited February 27 by starpollen

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