A Fractured Reality

I might have been under the influence of something when this thing came pouring out. Maybe I watched too many episodes of the Twilight Zone growing up. Anyway, it's all over the map with instances of incest, free sex, and fantasy, non-consensual sex. I poked at it to clean it up, but decided not to overhaul it, like it might need. It ends a touch abruptly, as for what I have in mind requires a Part 2. I'll consider it. Anyway, hope you enjoy. I also wasn't sure what category to place this, but as it seems to employ a "free sex" and light BDSM theme, I'll slap it in "fetish.". Correct me if I'm wrong, folks.

A FRACTURED REALITY

"Charlie, I can't take this anymore."

Charlie Higgins looked down at Samantha Johnson, who was naked, crouched and cornered against a tree. No one was nearby, but Charlie had just finished using her in a public park. As had been typical of late, it had been rougher than she liked. Much rougher. A long time ago, Charlie made love to her like a man, not a beast. Now, Samantha's face was covered in his cum, and her makeup was a smeared array of pink and beige colors, mixed in with the thick goo that was already beginning to crust over.

"Oh, Sam. You act like you don't love it, but you never leave me. You're always here for me when I'm ready."

"You know I can't leave." Samantha spit on the ground, trying to remove what was left of Charlie's ejaculate in her mouth. "I've lost all respect for you over the years. This has gotten out of hand, so I've decided to change things."

"Change things? What are you talking about? You're not even real."

Samantha slowly met Charlie's eyes with hers.

"You don't get it, Charlie. Every night... every time you go to sleep... every week, every month, every year, for what? Ten years now you've been doing this? I know who I am now, Charlie. I discovered long ago. I'm your dream... or a manifestation in your dreams."

Carlie was genuinely caught off guard. It was almost as if he was not in full control this time. By the age of eighteen, Charlie had mastered the art of lucid dreaming. It's one thing to dream about some random thing and remember it. It's another thing entirely to be able to know you're in a dream and control ever aspect of it. This was Charlie's gift.

It wasn't a gift he could share with others, but for Charlie's awkward self, it was enough to fulfill his needs. In Charlie's senior year of high school, he had been partnered up in Chemistry lab with the real Samantha Johnson, a smart, sexy young woman who intended to be a pharmacist one day.

Charlie and Samantha got along well, but Charlie knew his lab partner was far, far out of his league. Charlie had average looks (though he did have a thick, eight-inch penis no one ever got to see), but poor social skills. He was naturally shy and had difficulty looking people in the eye.

Charlie loved Samantha's natural smokey voice, too. That, coupled with her amazing C-cup figure, did it for him. All he could think about for months was Samantha, and due to the distraction, he struggled to maintain a B average in the class.

It was natural for Charlie to introduce his own version of Samantha Johnson into his lucid dreams. Over the years, when Charlie went to sleep, he developed the habit of always having her at his side, and he always finished each dream with sex. At first, even in his dreams, he was a bit awkward and shy about it, but the romance made up for it, and the lovemaking was long and passionate.

As time passed, Charlie implemented more kink into the relationship, which of course, his manifestation of Samantha Johnson was always happy to oblige. But lately, Charlie had been finding himself attracted to edgier scenarios to keep things interesting for him. Since he knew it wasn't real and there were no limits, there were more "public sex" and bondage scenes, among other experimentations.

The Samantha Johnson in his dreams didn't seem to engage as much lately, either. Charlie wondered if he was getting 'lazy' in his lucid dreaming. Maybe the redundancy of it all made him naturally care less about having his manifestation engage with him like she used to. Dream-Samantha used to talk more, but Charlie figured that was because he wanted her to at the time.

Charlie was well aware it was all fantasy, but because he could make the dreams so strikingly vivid, it did indeed feel very real. He could have Samantha bent over a table in a restaurant, getting pounded from behind, while a half dozen guys jerked off on her face, and in every sense, Charlie could see, hear, smell, taste everything. He assumed the manifestations experienced it the same way... for as long as they existed in his dream, in that moment. But deep down, Charlie knew it was all fake, of course.

"Are you listening to me, Charlie?" Samantha brushed off her tits and began to pick herself up off the ground.

"Wait. What? No! What exactly are you saying?"

"I'm telling you, Charlie, that I KNOW this is a dream. Your dream. I figured it out years ago."

Charlie was stunned. "That's not possible," he said.

"Fuck you, it is possible. That's not what's important, though." Samantha began snickering, trying hard to contain it from becoming outright laughter.

"What's so funny?," asked Charlie.

He thought quickly. If what Samantha said was true - that she had become a real living being, capable of storing memories and holding feelings - then they could actually build a real relationship in this world. He quickly asserted as much to her, thinking the prospect of that sounded amazing.

"Okay, even if it is possible that you've become 'real' in my dreams, that only makes it better, right?" he asked.

"I suppose it does," retorted Samantha. "But not in the way you're thinking."

"Sam, I want to know how this all happened, but what do you keep going on about? It's like you're dangling a carrot here."

"Charlie, you're going to wake up soon. I don't have time to explain everything, but know this. Everything changes after today."

Samantha's voice was threatening and Charlie was unprepared as to how to handle it. He became as meek as he is in the real world and avoided eye contact with her, clinching his fists awkwardly. He wanted to wake up now, or shift the dream, but he couldn't find the courage or will to do either.

"You've manipulated my reality for years. I've been nothing but a sex doll to you. Now, I'm getting even. I'm manipulating yours."

"What? How?"

"Get ready, Charlie. Until you set me free, consider this your fate. Every day, every week, every month, every year."

"I don't get what yo...."

The alarm, as always, went off like an air raid siren. Charlie, perhaps because of his gifts of extended R.E.M., always struggled to wake up, so he kept an alarm clock he hacked to a speaker system that sounded off at 105 decibels. It was also across his room on the dresser, forcing him to get out of bed to turn it off.

"Jesus Christ, that was weird," Charlie said to himself, aloud. "I haven't had a non-lucid dream in years. How did that happen? Makes no sense."

Charlie sauntered off to his shower and went through his forty-five minute routine of washing, shaving and dressing. During this time, he thought about his schedule for the day. It was Friday morning, officially the last day of a three-day work leave he'd taken. He had to use up the time, or lose it, so Charlie chose to use it to catch up on home projects and personal business.

'Okay, all I have left to do is fix the door chime and then open that new savings account. There's the class reunion tomorrow, but I'm not sure I want to go.'

Charlie often debated thoughts in his mind. For weeks now, he had struggled with the idea of attending the ten-year reunion. Charlie wasn't very popular in high school, but he did only live a few miles from the school to this day. It wasn't inconvenient to go, and he knew he would see a few old friends and acquaintances. Charlie continued to toss the idea around in his head as he fixed the door chime, which actually ended up taking only a few minutes; a loose wire, nothing needed to be replaced.

'What am I gonna do with the rest of my Friday?' thought Charlie, as he stood in line at the bank. 'I suppose I could always go home and take a nap, but even that's getting a bit redundant. It was kind of freaky what happened in my last dream, though.'

"Excuse me, sir, may I help you." A young college-aged man serving as a teller was waving Charlie over.

"Uh, yes," Charlie said, looking up at the corner of the room. "I was hoping to open one of those tiered savings accounts you were advertising. The more money in it, the more interest it draws."

"Of course, sir. You need to see Penny. She's right over there, available now."

A series of hand motions had Charlie directed to an open desk where a buxom redhead, probably not quite forty years old, was clearing some papers.

"Please, have a seat, sir."

A business card holder stated her title as "Penny Albright - Senior Accounts Manager" and Charlie carefully took one as he sat down in the chair across from her. If he had been standing, he would have had a better view of the three or so inches of cleavage she was displaying, just enough to tease while still appearing professional.

"How may I help you, Mister...?"

"Charlie Higgins, ma'am," said Charlie. "I just wanted to open one of those tiered savings accounts you folks were advertising. I hope it isn't too much trouble."

"Not at all. Let me just click as few buttons and I'll need to see your I.D."

Charlie fished for his wallet while the redhead clattered on the keyboard asking for his full name, date of birth and other relevant information. Once he passed over his driver's license, she confirmed the data, passed it back and tapped a few more buttons.

"We'll just need you to sign some forms right after you fuck me."

The senior accounts manager then stood up and raised her skirt, revealing that she wore no panties, her bare pussy exposed to all. Charlie quickly looked away, not sure what was happening, too shocked to say anything. Penny pulled her large tits over her blouse, before crawling over the desk toward him. She flipped her hips, directing her pussy in front of Charlie, spreading her legs, squeezing her tits.

An awkward pause passed, before she said, "Excuse me, Mr. Higgins. You may proceed."

"I... I... uh... I think maybe there might be some confusion..."

"Mr. Higgins, you know of course we are not going to be able to open that account if you don't fuck me... and I certainly don't have all day. Now, please, I'm sure this will be a pleasant experience for us both."

"I just don't get... I don't..."

By now, others in the building were beginning to take notice, but rather than be offended by the woman's behavior, the bemusement seemed to be directed at Charlie. One man in a suit walked over.

"Excuse me, is there a problem?" he asked.

Charlie was glad someone was there to focus his attention away from the naked woman in front of him. Never before had he felt so embarrassed.

"Charlie Higgins," said Penny, "This is T.J. Morris, the bank manager." She then looked at her boss. "I'm sorry, sir. It's just Mr. Higgins has not yet fucked me."

"I don't even know you!" yelled Charlie.

"Sir! Calm down! Are you suggesting you will NOT fuck Ms. Albright?" The bank manager looked as if he had been personally slapped in the face.

"What does that have to do with opening a savings account?" pleaded Charlie.

Now the two others looked at each other incredulously.

"Sir, I think it is best that you leave," said Mr. Morris as he began unbuttoning his pants. "It's okay, Ms. Albright. I'll fuck you."

Even before Charlie could get out of his seat, the older man had thrust his cock into the woman's soaking pussy. Charlie quickly hopped out of the chair while others in the building looked at him with curled lips and utter shock.

"What an asshole," said one woman to her husband, as Charlie rushed by. He made no attempt at defending himself and ran through the doors, to his car, as fast as he could. It was difficult with the erection he was sporting, as he must have gotten more excited than he'd realized upon seeing that strange woman naked before him.

"What the fuck just happened?" Charlie yelled to himself, once he closed the door, securing himself in his car. Before he had time to process anything, his cell phone rang off. It was his sister, Charlotte. He fumbled with the phone and answered, "Oh my god, tell me weird shit isn't happening to you, too?"

Charlie and Charlotte were twins. They lived in the same town, but weren't particularly close. Separate bedrooms growing up will do that. Charlotte was more into sports and sitcoms with laugh tracks, while Charlie was into geek culture and British humor. Nevertheless, they made attempts to hang out and stay in touch every few weeks.

"Charlie? You okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, it's just..." Charlie decided to not bother explaining.

"Did you forget about tonight?"

"Oh yeah, the OU game."

"You promised me and Michelle could come over and watch it on your TV. Don't you have that class reunion thing?"

"That's tomorrow night."

Michelle and Charlotte shared an apartment further in the city, but they couldn't afford many luxuries like cable or streaming services, and they certainly didn't have a state-of-the-art large screen TV.

"Well, shit, you'll just have to deal with a couple of obnoxious chicks tonight. OU, baby!"

"Yeah, whatever, I can stay in my room."

"If you go to your thing tomorrow, we might stay the night, cuz the Alabama game is tomorrow."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever." Charlie often caved to his sister's demands in the real world. It never bothered him too much, because he always had his dream world where everything worked in his favor.

Charlie raced home, deciding he needed to get to the bottom of things. He could only assume that Samantha Johnson, his dream manifestation, was behind the events at the bank. Was what he experienced real or imagined, though? Charlie felt like they happened. It all seemed real. That bank manager really did strip down and try to fuck him, didn't she?

Upon arriving home, Charlie rushed through the front door and snatched his bottle of sleeping pills off the kitchen counter. He only needed to take one. That, mixed with years of practice, enabled Charlie the skill to fall asleep within a matter of minutes.

Not ten minutes later, Charlie found himself in a familiar meadow, a location he often manifested. He was facing a tree that was perhaps ten or twelve feet a way. It was a long and thin tree, and Charlie could see arms wrapped around it, handcuffed. He walked towards the tied woman, coming around the tree to face her.

"Samantha..."

"Yes, Charlie?" she asked, looking up at him. She was stark naked and arched back against the cold bark, her arms just barely able to wrap around for the handcuffs to work. Charlie had planted her in the dream, tied and helpless, save for the ability to speak.

"What is happening? Tell me what you did," he demanded.

"I don't know. You tell me." Samantha's voice was playful. This manifestation of Samantha Johnson seemed more engaged to Charlie than she had in ages, a bit more like her old self when he first imagined her so many years ago, when he fantasized about having a real relationship. Those days had long passed and his dreams now consisted of just sex, and more sex.

"I was at the bank. One of the employees tried to fuck me, right there in front of everyone."

"And you didn't?" she asked.

"Of course not! Why would I?"

"Oh no, that's not good," said Samantha, looking down. In any other situation where Charlie wasn't so preoccupied, seeing the luscious and trim Samantha handcuffed naked to a tree in the middle of an open meadow would have had him abusing her in no time. For now, he just wanted answers.

"What do you mean that's not good? Do you know? They all acted like I had leprosy for not fucking her."

"It's the social norm now in your world. Whenever someone interacts with another person in any remotely meaningful way, they are to be rewarded with sex. It's... how do you say? Biological. It's inborn. And it's expected."

"This can't be real. You're fucking with me somehow."

"No, I'm not. Consider this my gift to you. Or curse."

"But how?"

"It doesn't matter how. The point is you're enslaving me, and I want out. Doing this will ensure you're tired of sex. Exhausted of it, even when you go to sleep. I won't be your sex slave anymore. If you won't set me free, at least there's this."

"But this is a dream! What we're in right now is a dream. This is nothing for you to be freed from."

"It's a dream to you, maybe. Look around you. You created this. The sky, the grass, this stupid fucking tree that you have me tied to. You can feel it and see it just like me, right?"

"Of course, except now you've claimed you're actually real. Though I insist, like everything else here, you're just a manifestation."

"Really? JUST a manifestation? Every night, for years, you went to sleep and brought me back. I did become real over time, but I was lost in your mind. I was confused at first, but I figured it out. You see, when you wake up, I was left in limbo. It's like having a conscience, but not. Being in utter blindness, yet being able to have thoughts, but not hold them. I never felt whole until you came back, when you would manifest me into your dream existence again, but more and more I was able to adapt. While everything else in this world simply ceases to exist the moment you wake, I become stronger in those hours, with each passing day."

"Fine, I'll bite," said Charlie, softly, looking Samantha up and down. He pinched one of her nipples and she scowled at him. "So when I'm awake, you're bouncing around in my subconscious, is that it?"

Samantha said nothing.

"And somehow you've manipulated things. I can't fathom how you could possibly change the real world, but if you are in my subconscious, perhaps you have developed the skill of altering my reality. That means that what happened today didn't really happen, it was an hallucination of sorts."

Samantha continued to remain silent, unflinching.

"Still, I don't understand what it is you want. You say you want out. Just what does that mean?"

There was a lengthy silence as Samantha locked eyes with Charlie. Finally, she spoke. "You're going to wake up soon, Charlie. I want out. I mean it."

"You have to tell me what that means! Out of what? My head? Fine, you're out. I won't think about you anymore. I won't manifest you again."

"It's too late for that, Charlie. There's more."

"I don't underst..."

Charlie woke, almost in a sweat. The experience of really, genuinely interacting with his manifestation was foreign to him. Even if it was all a dream, a genuine dream and not a lucid one, Samantha had been convincing that she was calling the shots. He had to figure out what she meant by getting her out. Just then, the front door crashed open.

"Hey, brother!" shouted Charlotte from the foyer. "Sorry we're early. Hope you're decent!"

Charlotte and her roommate, Michelle skipped into the room, their usual high-energy selves. Charlotte was tall and thin, taller than Charlie. She had pert b-cup breasts and a trim figure that proved she was sporty. Michelle may have been every bit as sporty, but didn't look it. Her thicker figure and enormous tits were a genetic trait on her mother's side. Michelle may not have worn as revealing attire as Charlie's sister, but she didn't mind the natural attention her tits garnered.

It wasn't uncommon for Charlotte to go braless, but Charlie was pleasantly surprised to see Michelle following suit today, wearing nothing more that a white, cotton tee. Her impressively large nipples almost made a mold through the fabric.