Origins and Dreams – The Second Dream
This is a multi-part tale; you can read the about the first dream here, or the original wish here.
Ok, I lied. One more thing: Dreams. Are. Weird. Even
with someone awake guiding them, they don't always make a whole lot of sense and can also be a
little difficult to remember. So if, throughout this tale, you notice logical
inconsistencies, or things just seem to happen for no reason at all, you can
chalk it up to dream-logic and possibly a foggy memory. With that being said,
on to Laura's second dream.
She'd gone to bed in underwear again, though this time it was a bit briefer and lacier and I have to say she looked quite fetching in it. I decided to use the dream walking technique the second night, so I made my preparations and entered her mind.
“Welcome,” a tall well-dressed man said to... myself – looking like myself, which was surprising – and Laura, “to the Perfect Lover's retreat. Where can I direct you to?”
“The mud-bath please,” Laura answered.
“Very good choice, miss; that's down the hall to your left, third door you come across.”
We thanked the man and began walking. The surroundings themselves looked like a ritzy hotel spa, but it was the names above the doors we passed that got my attention: the first read 'inflation', and the second 'rendering'. The door we were instructed to go into read 'sculpting'. Inside we found no one, but there was a single large vat of mud. Laura began to strip down, and I started to take her lead before she put a hand on my arm to stop me. “No,” she explained, “this is my gift to you.” Then she jumped into the mud vat.
I felt a bit out of my league, and began to think that maybe I should have gotten to know her subconscious a bit more before jumping right into dream walking, when Laura pulled herself out of the mud pool and wandered over to a pedestal that simply appeared in the middle of the room, still completely covered in mud. “Come on, honey, work on me before I dry!” Suddenly, I was wearing an apron with a few sculpting tools in the pockets and I knew what it was I was supposed to be doing.
I wandered over to Laura and inspected her body, I knew that if I wanted to change anything major I'd either have to be particularly skilled at sculpting, or learn to work with the dream to accomplish my goal. I decided it was go big or go home, so I grabbed some clay from a mound I didn't remember being there a moment before and set about working it into Laura’s figure with the intention of making her my equal in height. To my relief, as I worked the clay into her in one area, it seemed to spread itself out and work on all aspects of what was needed. After a few minutes of working the clay, with Laura squirming and giggling under my touch, she was a good six feet tall. After that, I decided to work some finer details: Laura was beautiful, but I'd always had a thing for Asian girls, so I grabbed a tool from my apron and set about sculpting on her face, with the intention of giving her some Korean features. A couple more minutes of work and an Asian angel had been molded out of the clay in front of me. I noticed her movements starting to slow down, so I figured the clay was hardening. I worked quickly, and started moving the clay on her body around, wanting to pull it from places like her waist and stomach, and deposit it around her chest. I just finished the exercise when the clay hardened and began to crack under my fingers.
I took a step back as the clay began to fall away from Laura, exposing her new body to the open air, which despite being warm, stiffened her nipples. She looked at me with lust and jumped on me from the pedestal. I didn't remember taking my clothes off, but I was happy they'd vanished.
After we finished that little romp (come now, I think we deserve our privacy) Laura, still with her sculpted body, got up and wandered over to a computer screen, again, something I hadn't remembered seeing.
“Would you like to preserve my body, Love? The spa says is possible if both of us want it.”
“I do like your old body, but I'd keep you like this one if you want to stay.”
“I've never felt sexier, and I was pretty great before; you've done too good of a job with me to let it go though. Come on, let’s go to the other hall. I've picked the Perfect Preservation option.”
With that I followed her out, back down the hall we came through, and towards the other wing. In the main room we passed by the tall man greeting a couple, one of whom looked like Tommy, and the other Aya. Laura had no visible reaction to them, but I saw that Aya's eyes were devoid of pupils, and she seemed to be mindlessly going along with whatever Tommy said.
The new hall had new doors to read before we reached out destination. The first just read ‘preservation’, the second said ‘imperfect preservation’, the third ‘sealed preservation’, and the fourth was ‘perfect preservation’.
Inside, we chatted briefly with a busty young (though a badge she wore prominently stated she was 18, for the benefit of the guests) girl with pigtails and a white lab coat about the process.
“Prefect preservation is exactly what it says: perfect. You go into this end of the machine with the body your lover has given you, and you come out the other end of the machine with the body your lover has given you.” She explained. “Preservation may do the same thing in effect, but perfect preservation is much better!”
“I know it is,” Laura interjected “A friend of mine did it, and her and her lover couldn't be happier. You don't need to sell me on it; can you start up the machine?”
“Of course!” The lab-coat girl pulled a large red lever on the side of the machine, and the conveyor belt Laura had been strapped to pulled her into the machine.
“It'll be about twenty minutes, buddy. Want me to entertain you while you wait?” offered the girl. Of course... 18 for the benefit of the guests, I should have seen this coming, I remember thinking.
I declined her offer though, figuring that if the spa still existed while Laura wasn't in a given part I could take a look around. Opening the door, I discovered that it did, so I headed out.
Peaking into the ‘Sealed Preservation’ door, I saw a variety of mannequin stands, some already with visions of beauty in plastic mounted on them. Makes sense, I thought. ‘Imperfect Preservation’ had inflation pumps and cardboard boxes, with a few inflatable women lying around the room. ‘Preservation’ had a machine that looked identical to the ‘Perfect Preservation’ machine, so I wondered why they needed the two different rooms.
Wandering back to the other hall, I poked my head into ‘Inflation’. I saw Aya standing there with various inflation plugs on her, and Tommy was using a hand pump to increase the size of her breasts. They were at the point where they were all Aya would see if she looked down when I left. ‘Rendering’ proved to be an interesting room; there was a large cylinder with various high-tech looking equipment rigged up to it, connected to a computer that seemed to be running a 3d modeling program. Passing ‘Sculpting’ to the final door, I stuck my head into ‘Dressing’. Inside that room, I saw clothing, tons of clothing, all of it plain looking, but in various different sizes, and all meant to be tight fitting. I wouldn't have been totally sure of what was going on if Tommy and the now absurdly top heavy Aya weren't in there already. Aya was putting on a corset that miraculously fit her massive chest, while simultaneously giving her a waistline that Jessica Rabbit would envy. When she removed the corset, her waist stayed in the form it was given.
I headed back to Perfect Preservation after that, only to be told by the girl that Laura still had twenty minutes left in the machine, and if I would like to pass the time with her? I'd noticed a Super Nintendo in Laura's home, so I chalked this “mandatory option” up to her being an old-school RPG fan, and accepted the girl’s offer.
What was certainly longer than twenty minutes later the machine finally beeped, and Laura came out the other end as I got up and found myself fully dressed once more. I wandered over to help get her unstrapped from the machine, and noticed a faint seam running along the side of her body. I nearly smacked myself in the head. Of course: “perfect preservation” would make her into a silicone doll.
“She's absolute perfect now, sir! Truly the perfect lover! She's got a body you designed for her that will never fade or age, she'll always be open to your amorous intentions, and the machine programmed her with every sex position imaginable, giving priority to the ones I think you'd like best based on the profile I put together. Congratulations on finding someone willing to become your truly perfect lover!”
And then we woke up.
Laura blinked at me a couple of times, then just said “Wow.”
“Wow.” I replied.
“That was... I don't know what that was. I know it was a dream, and dreams are weird, but... I don't know. While I was in it, it felt right, having you there. I don't really know why. If you hadn't of used... dream walking, was it? I don't know who would have been standing next to me there, or how it would have turned out. I've never had a relationship yet I was really happy with, so I can't see myself having knowingly turned myself into a doll for any of my exes. That's part of the reason I'm doing all of this. I know that even if I'm treated like shit, I'll be happy, cause I won't see it as being treated like shit.”
“Laura... dream-logic is something that even those of us capable of using magic find difficult to understand. But what you've just said is very telling of how you feel. You've asked me to fulfill your innermost desire, and I'm using dream weaving to accomplish that. It's possible your innermost desire isn't what you really think it is. But for now... I should tell you that your hair seems to have changed. You've got black instead of blonde now. And it's straight instead of curly.”
“What? Huh... well, I guess I can tell people I dyed it.”
“Yes. This is at least an easy change to cover up. You don't feel any different in the head, do you?”
“Not that I notice.”
“Alright; go about your day. I'll be waiting for you tonight.”
“Ok, have a good day, Quill!”
Continued in Part 4: The Third Dream