Mudslide

I was at school, either at a high school or college campus, as a teacher’s assistant or something.  I was walking out of an end of the day class and saw these four girls hip-hop dancing just outside the gym.  It must be a club because their shirts all had a name for the school they attend.  I stop dead in my tracks and start dancing – crunk, get low, booty shake, you know, all the old school hip-hop moves.  I couldn’t help myself.  It felt good to let loose like a young adult again, even though I felt a little off balance due to my age.  The girls look at me like I was crazy.
 

“Don’t worry, I’m a little rusty at my age,” I assure them.

The girls laugh at me.  “At your age?  What are you, like twelve,” one black girl sarcastically asks?

“Nooooo,” I say in a long tone.  “I’m 32.”  But what I really wanted to say is ‘you snarky bitches, respect your elders.’

The girls just giggle and say “okay” walking away gesturing with their hands not to bother as they go into the gym.

Jordan Supon, my fiancé, picks me up in his truck just outside in the parking lot.  We head down the road and get to an intersection and take a right turn.  Without warning we see a mass flood just off to the right side of the road.  But somehow after screaming and pleading to go around it so we do not get swept up into it, Jordan didn’t do it and the wind gust pushes us right into it.  It was like a ride, but a life-threatening thrill ride on the muddy water.  It looks as though it was a mudslide that became so large because of the rainfall that it turned into a running river on the streets.  Jordan was steering the car like he had control – maybe a way to cope from the loss of control.  We almost hit a tree – steer left.  Then another tree – steer right, and it goes on and on for miles.  We are going fast.  I almost took a last ditch effort to jump into the running water to not suffer hitting a tree or get stuck in the vehicle under water, or worse with broken glass shattered throughout my body.  But I notice there are a lot of debris in the water too, rushing fast enough to impale a wet cold body floating in the water.  I decide to opt out of that plan and just continue on the ride for the inevitable – whatever that may be.

The river starts slowing down and we come to the end uninjured.  So much debris is piled up where it reached dry land.  The vehicle lands at what looks like a city hall.  I walk up the outside steps rather breathless.  I don’t know where Jordan disappeared to, but I continue on my walk further away from the stopping point.  I stop just outside in the shade by the pillars of the city hall to pull out my cell phone to call Jordan.  I see a man a few feet away that looks familiar sitting behind a foldout table outside.  It was Tod Mowery.  Exhausted, I approach him.  He was chipper than ever, which is his usual.  It almost looks as if he has no idea what was going on.

“Hi,” I say and pause for a quick breath.  “Do you know what’s going on?”

“I do,” he smiles!  “I was caught up in the fury waters and trapped in my car on my way here.”

“You were caught in it?  Me and Jordan, too!  That’s how I got here.”  I feel comforted knowing someone else had this happen right alongside of me.

“Yeah, thank God it dumped me off where I needed to be,” Tod says.  He is so positive and sees reasoning in everything.   I can’t believe he is actually working.  Nothing shakes that man!

“Do you need anything,” I ask?  Even though I really didn’t have much energy to do anything, so I was hoping if he needed something it wouldn’t make me walk far.

“I can really use a massage.  I kind of got beat up along the way and I’m very sore.”

“No problem,” I reply.  I was happy to do something like that.  Only my hands had to do the moving.  Plus I get to touch him in my dream, when any other time it would be inappropriate.  “Lay down onto the table on your left side”, I told him.  He takes off his shirt and lays on his left side facing away from me.

I start massaging him in a way I never would in waking life.  I was grabbing and pulling, like I was milking a cow or something, haha!  He acted like he liked it and told me I got the kinks out.

Love Triangle

 

I finally was part of the “it” crowd!  Okay, so I was invited to one of their elegant events.  The “it” crowd apparently for me in this dream was being part of any social gathering consisting of business connections, including Tod and Deborah Mowery’s network of connections.  I walked into the event site – unexpectedly, but content, it was a bowling alley.  There are about 10 large round tables, probably seating about 6 to 8 people each on one side of the alley.  The air was filled with cigarette smoke, like how I remembered it years ago.  Every lady there for the event was dressed in ball gowns or other chic dresses, and the men wore collared button down shirts with blazer jackets.  I felt a bit out of place, even though I was wearing a nice cocktail dress.  I always feel out of place when I’m the “newbie” because people know that and start to protect the lion pack from any change a new person might bring forth.  I approach the table with my girlfriend where Tod and Deborah are sitting with a few other gorgeous ladies.  I was there to learn about what’s going on in the area and what I can be of service for, but I knew I was there mostly to see Tod.  I hate to admit it.  He’s so inviting!  I’m shocked if I’m the only one who gets his magnetism.  I was hoping for this moment – for a very long time!  I want to have more than a few minutes with him; to soak in his wisdom.  Even if it’s just a glance or two I steal – I would know more about him than I do now.

My girlfriend and I sit down.  It’s me, Deborah to my right, my girlfriend to my left, then Tod to the left of her, and the other ladies across from me.  My girlfriend jumps in laughing at a conversation that the table already started before we got there.  It didn’t come as easily for me.  I felt somewhat bizarre there.  Did Tod think I was strictly there to impede on his event?  Did he think I was there to just see him?  I swear his wife, Deborah, knew I was acting a bit shy and love struck to possibly question the reason why.  Thinking these things just made me paranoid, rather than relaxed.  After a while, I came around though, however, if I wanted to talk about a new topic, it went unheard. 

I try to start a conversation (about what, I don’t remember), but it involves my free-spirited expression that I want people to see, and they always would be inattentive at those very moments.  It happens all the time!  I’m never heard, or people enjoy talking over me, and it makes me feel unimportant in any relationship.  It’s like no one turns to me and truly wants to try and strike up a conversation with me.  Finally I mumble “nobody ever listens to me,” a few times.  I don’t think anyone heard; nobody said anything.  Then I lean in to tell Deborah to tell her that nobody is listening to what I’m trying to say.  Tod looks at us inquisitively while not breaking his conversation with the lady to his left. 

Deborah suddenly looks at me in disgust as if I am ruining her evening.  “I heard you!  We all heard you!  We are just choosing to ignore it.”  She says this so everyone could hear at the table.

“But why,” I ask desperately? 

“Because you always say that, Angela.”

I started to get upset, somewhat weepy.  “I don’t always say that!”

“Yes you do,” Deborah replied, almost as if my explanations won’t matter.

I began now to get louder.  “I don’t even know you much.  Never had conversations with you.  So you can’t say that I always say nobody ever listens.”

“Um, you do.”  Deborah seemed like she had some pent up anger towards me.  I can only guess why, but she didn’t justify it, so I wasn’t going to bring it up.  I didn’t understand why she was so temperamental.  “Tod, I’ll be back, I’m going to the bathroom to cool my jets.”

I sat stagnant for a few minutes with mixed feelings from what just went on.  I was hurt, humiliated in front of others – especially Tod, and I was angry that I didn’t stand up for myself.  I haven’t even had the chance to speak with Tod yet, feeling my chances now were very slim after this.  I told myself I needed to make this right.  Right is not exactly an apology where it isn’t needed, but to defend what is morally justifiable, and I felt in that moment that I was being walked on and it made me feel worthless when it shouldn’t have.  So, I get up, excuse myself, tell my girlfriend to come with me, and head straight to the bathrooms.  My girlfriend didn’t like the notion of this.

I felt empowered at that moment.  Grabbing my girlfriend’s arm forcing her to march with me to witness anything that may occur inside.  We get inside, the bathroom is quite empty, and Deborah is just starting to dry off her washed hands.  I look at her with disbelief at her scornful attitude.  “You know, you don’t know me,” I began to say again.  “I do not say that nobody listens.”

“Not according to your friend right there,” pointing to the friend I came with, who knows Tod and Deborah well.  “You always try so hard to get attention, and you make it known if you are not getting it.”

I was crushed.  That is true, but only when I get treated that way by the people I really look up to and would like to get to know.  “Why shouldn’t I make it known?  You are either my friend or aren’t.  You know I only make it known to the people who I look up to because I want to be their friend.  It’s really a shame that you don’t see that you and everyone at that table means the world to me.  But that still doesn’t answer the question to why you are ignoring my conversation starters in the first place.”

I thought she’d have a bit of empathy, but she didn’t.  “I just don’t like you.  And I guess everyone just follows.”

I told my girlfriend to stay back.  She looks at me wondering if I was going to do something horrible to Deborah.  I gently shove Deborah in the corner of the bathroom counter and the wall that held up a tampon dispenser.  I hold her there as I creep in closer.  I am a bit intimidated since she was taller than I am, but it was something I had to do to get the respect I deserve from anyone.  I tried to be soft spoken and honest with her the first time, which didn’t work, so this time I had to be firm.  “Deb.  You don’t know anything about me and what I’m capable of doing.  You already assumed prematurely that I want too much of yours and everybody’s attention, and look where that got you.  I’m going to walk out of here and you are going to stay in here for a bit longer while I go back to that table, and don’t have you to interfere with the topics I want to bring up.  I won’t be at the table long, so you can come back and have your time with your precious husband and precious friends, but only after I’m gone.  Got that?” 

She nodded.

I walked out with shoulders broad, my head high and felt my dress flowing against my fingertips.  My friend starts to walk out with me, then stops at the bathroom doors and went back to comfort Deborah.  I start to see things in a different perspective.  I’d normally whine that my friend went back, probably begging her to come out with me, but now I look at it if she wants to comfort Deborah instead of me after what they all put me through, she can, and I don’t need a friend like that.

Halfway to the table I start to approach quickly.  I had this rushing urge to get to Tod.  I had a moment of bravery.  I didn’t have time to hesitate.  I walk up to him, with starlit eyes and probably a face of fear, yet courageously continue to approach.  He is in the middle of a conversation and stops in his tracks to look up at me not knowing what to expect.  I grab his shirt with a little tug at the chest and squat down next beside him.  I almost went in for a deep kiss, but I stop myself. I can tell he didn’t want people to think there is anything between us.

I spoke brash.  “I promised Deb I wouldn’t take up too much of your time.  I had to tell her she was being rude to me and it upset me . . .’

Tod interrupts, “She can be rude sometimes.”

“I’ve been here and the one person I wanted time with I’m not getting from them,” speaking about spending time with him.  He knew who I was talking about.  The ladies at the table watch us.

“I know,” he says sincerely.  He saw it in my eyes how much it would mean to me, and I saw right back into his that he wished the same, but he couldn’t if he wanted to hold onto his standard of recognition.  He quickly realizes our gaze and looks around the place, making sure I wasn’t making too much of a scene.

That is the only answer I get?  That ‘he knows’?  I was completely bummed.  After confronting his rude wife and putting on a brave face challenging myself to express the feelings of wanting to spend time together, preferably one-on-one or at the very least with a few good people, I was let down tremendously.  He avoided it at all costs.  No matter what he might feel inside, he is a very logical person and saw the forest beyond the trees type guy.  The only emotion he could show me was by being cold about the situation, so I get up, and walk away slowly from the so-called friends I wanted to get to know, and from the guy of my dreams (literally).  I feel his eyes on me, but I didn’t look back.  I was tired of chasing him . . . wanting him . . . when he would never love me back.  I realize this is my closure to a lot of unanswered questions that were left up in the air for so long.

Love with Jared Leto

I can’t remember this dream much but I was viewing it both as an audience watching a movie, and as the girl in it sometimes.

There is a girl (let’s just call her Dy), probably in her mid-20s that had that rocker look.  Short dark pixie cut, black boots, jean and black clothing with a lot of raunchy accessories.  She is cool.  She is sweet.  She is everyone’s alter-ego.  Her long-time boyfriend is well known throughout the town, a business man who is ambitious, charismatic and sits comfortable with the money he makes.  He has always given Dy a comfortable living and has bought her nice stuff throughout the years.  However, he wasn’t always as nice as his gifts.  He has been known to be emotionally abusive and recently has been aggressive towards Dy.  She knows it’s just a matter of time that he will become physically abusive, but mostly fears that he will snap and skip the abuse and go right for the kill.  She doesn’t know what to do, but to contemplate as she tries to find a new relationship at the same time so she can feel complete.

Dy meets a man, a guy that looks like (or is) Jared Leto.  They have worked together on some music, but nothing much more than that.  She has found him vulgar and a bit hygienically challenged.  Her red flag is that he seems quite aggressive in his pursuit for her.  Jared has asked her numerous times to go out with him, and when she said no, he’d come back and say something sexually disturbing just to get under her skin, and probably because of his hurt ego.  He was used to having women falling for him, but only a select few did he accept or go after, and thought she should feel privileged.

One rainy afternoon a few months later, Dy met with Jared at his condo to go over some lyrics and music sheets to a couple of songs.  His place was in a high-rise condominium, and had glass windows from floor to ceiling in his living room and bedroom.  He never put blinds or shades up as he said that would mess up the flow.  They both sat at his dining room table to go over the music.  A short time later, Dy looks at him without saying a word.  She spoke through her eyes.  She scoots out of her chair and hops into his lap still looking at him.  This gave him the clue that maybe she didn’t hate him after all, so he leans in with a hard passionate kiss.  She reciprocates.  She sighs a short relief.  She couldn’t believe she likes a guy so opposite from the man she was dating, but was very drawn to him, like beach sand is to the ocean.  She says to herself she cannot ignore this feeling about Jared especially that she never had it with anybody else.  It must be something!

“I didn’t like you at first,” she pleads to Jared, kissing him in between as she talks.  “Then I noticed I started to grow feelings for you . . . ,” smooch, “ . . .and I liked you ever since . . . ,” smooch again, “but was trying to do the right thing by ending my currently relationship first, but I can’t ignore this anymore – WE can’t ignore this anymore, right?”

Jared’s eyes swell up.  “Dy, I know what he does to you.  I would never treat you that way.  I loved you from the start, and I waited, and if I had to, would continue to wait until you saw that I was drawn to you too.  That’s why I was pursuing you so much, and I’m sorry if that made you feel uncomfortable or made you think I didn’t have respect for your relationship.  But Dy, he is not good for you!”

“I know.  You are!”

They both smile.  He hugs her and kisses her deeply.  There was a part of Dy she liked about Jared’s take charge attitude.  When they met eye-to-eye again, he starts to unzip his pants, slip them down just enough, pulls his penis through the opening of his boxer briefs and rests it again her pelvic bone under her flowing skirt.  She rubs herself against it and it slips it.  She holds Jared so tight.  They kiss each other so deeply yearning for each other’s touch for quite some time.  (Unfortunately, I don’t know the details of their love making but from where my dream started back up again it sure looked like it.)  They were in bed sleeping with arms and legs everywhere, and bed sheets under and over them.  

The morning light was starting to peer from the horizon.  Suddenly, Jared’s dad comes barreling through the door without knocking first.  He has done this in the past before Jared has said to Dy in previous conversations.  He is staggering left and right drunk, hitting the wall on one side, the couch on the other coming towards his son’s bedroom where Jared and Dy are sleeping.  He grabs his son’s leg and drags him out of bed and across the floor and onto the balcony.  Jared doesn’t wake up until he is on the balcony.  He gets up confused of his whereabouts and as he stands to stabilize himself, his father expressively waves his arms in the air to give Jared a hug and accidentally knocks Jared easily from his already unstable footing sending him over the balcony.  Jared’s father looks around for his son as he was talking and notices he isn’t there anymore, but he doesn’t comprehend what just happened; he thinks his son just left the room like he’s done on multiple occasions when his father came to his house.

Dy opens her eyes and notices a man about to leave the condo.  She is startled by it, but soon realizes that it is probably Jared’s dad.  She turns to the bedside where Jared was sleeping, but finds him not there.  “Jared?”  Dy’s voice rings through the place.  “Did you see Jared,” she asks his father?

“Uh, yef I have.  He was outside wiff me and disappeared.  Poof, gone!”  He laughs.

Something didn’t seem right to Dy.  She notices the balcony sliding glass door is open.  She races out to the balcony, gets to the edge, and looks down.  She finds Jared’s lifeless body several stories down on a stores metal roof.  His blue eyes were open, his dark hair disheveled, and blood was just under his head.  He was surely dead.  Dy began to cry hysterically, but soon became furious.  His father was about to leave opening the door when she calls out to him.  “You!!!  Don’t you go anywhere!  You did this.  Your son is dead!!  My Jared is dead because of you!  I will see to it that you will never harm anyone or any family member ever again.”  She took this rage and used it to fight a battle against any domestic violence, benevolently or malevolently caused.  She did this to requite her of her past relationship and the one she shared now with Jared.  She gave herself to him, just to lose him in the same day.  It was very hard on her, I’m sure.

A Woman's Adventure & A Knight's Rescue

The dream has some real life events and feelings.  Most dream dictionaries, such as Dream Moods at www.dreammoods.com reference that dreams often represent waking life or repressed feelings and thoughts.


My dream starts out when I'm running alongside a chain-link fence that follows a large long canal.  I'm running on an adventure for or from something, although I didn't know what at the time.  I had a golden retriever dog prancing right along with me.  There was a cutaway in the fence and I entered through it wanting to fish the canal.  I knew in my mind it could be dangerous with alligators likely nearby.  I wasn't so afraid for myself as much as I was afraid for my dog that was quite old and unable to move as swiftly to escape an alligator attack.  I started rigging my pole (that magically appeared, haha!) and I called out my dog's name (which escapes my mind) to warn him not to get any closer to the the canal waters.  He wasn't listening so I had to put the fishing pole down and go over to the edge of the canal to get him.  I looked just past my dog and into the shallow waters and see an alligator just below the water's surface.  I couldn't tell if it was waiting there stalking or if it was just resting - it is always hard to tell.  I pull my idiot dog farther up the bank, scolding him frustrated at his demeanor for not listening.  I quickly realize though he was up there in his years, and had to remind myself that we'll all get there someday, where we too can't remember or won't have much care in the world at an old age.  So I patted him on the head, deciding not to fish and continued on our path.

I come to the house I grew up in.  I don't know in my dream if I stilled lived there or was just visiting my parents who still lived there.  I didn't walk through the front door, I decided to come around back.  I see my mother, Dorothy Thomas, alive and well on the back porch hustling and bustling cleaning things, and in between rested with a cup a coffee and a cigarette.  This is how I remembered her growing up, and I was dreaming it!  She sees me a couple yards away and smiles, "Oh, hi Angela!"  She was a little out of breath from moving things around to vacuum.  I started to approach her but suddenly things took a turn for a wild ride.  I don't recall exactly what happened at this moment in my dream, but I do remember that me and my dog were trapped by alligators.  Ponds and motes were appearing around between me and my mother.  I had to think fast, but what do I do in a situation I haven't been in before?  I knew the best way around all this was to get high above the ground. 

I see the big oak tree that is in my parents backyard that had large tentacle-like branches or vines dangling from it.  I grab on to one, take a quick tug for sturdiness and was about to grab my dog to swing together across the mote, but my dog was galloping towards the edge of the water thinking these alligators were playmates.  My heart sunk!  I unwrapped the vine around my hand and jolted backwards to grab my dog.  I grabbed him in the nick-of-time!  I only could think at that moment how much responsibility I really do have on another one's life.

I get my dog tied against me and just as I'm about to swing across my mother yells out to me.  "I don't think that's such a good idea," like a normal mother would say to her child, although not an appropriate opinion at this given moment, ha ha!  "I'll cut some of the brush around here and you can enter much faster that way into the house for safety.  But you'll need to go around the mote instead of swinging across at that branch thing."

"Mom, it is not safe to do it the way you want me to.  My dog already almost got eaten!"  I was already frustrated with her because she made me take more time out to think what was best to do, which is more time to possibly die.

"I've already started.  You're choice," she says to me as she starts chopping the tall brush with a machete.  I watched her as she went.  She was a pro and I had no idea how much of a pro a mother can be at something when it comes to wanting to save her child's life.  I was in amazement.

I decided to swing the vine to an area across one of the smaller ponds, where I could see good grounding between that and the mote.  The hard part was that I noticed the part to go around the mote was very narrow.  I swung across, landed and footed towards the end of the mote where another chain-link fence met.  I held my dog this time.  I didn't want any surprises, although it was very difficult to hold such a large dog in my small arms.  But God gave me the strength of a few men to do so.  I tip-toed around the mote, seeing alligator heads bobble on the surface, and I saw some create wakes in the water from underneath.  "Get me out of here before they start smelling fear," I said to myself.  When I get better ground, I finally sprinted to the back porch and was thankful to be safe.

I give myself some time for my breathing to calm down.  Like any child-parent relationship, I was happy to be safe and that my mother was trying to help me, but in the same token I was beyond frustrated with her making the decision more difficult for me, where I could have easily got killed.  So I went just inside to sit down on the couch by the sliding glass doors to cool off some steam.  Inside it was a lodge my family lived in and rented out and I was sitting in the base lodge with the television in front of me.  I say something vulgar out loud through the glass to my mother while covering my ears like a whining child, and as soon as I was finished, I see Tod Mowery passing by looking into the lodge.  "I hope he didn't hear me," I thought to myself.  "How embarrassing."  I slouch in the couch hoping he didn't notice me, or my vulgarity, and kept my head straight to continue to watch television - or at least pretend to.  I wanted him to come in though, no matter what.  I was torn.  I didn't want him to know me in that way, but I knew loving him he'd have to see every aspect of me.  I knew his ambivalence towards me, especially in the public's eyes.  But deep down I knew he cared for me.  So although I may have wanted him to see me, even just for a moment to show some compassion by muttering 'hello', I also didn't expect it from him either.  So, that's why I kept my eyes glued to the television.

I hear someone come in.  I don't turn around to look.  There is always people coming in and out of the lodge.  I felt that warmth nearby . . . you know, that warmth when someone is close.  My heart beats faster and faster.  I'm nervous to turn around to see him standing there right behind me.  What do I say?  What do I do?  He has always made me tongue tied.  Partially because of his ambivalence towards me that sometimes can cut like a knife, or "be as sweet as candy" (Legend, 1985).  But I was also nervous that my thoughts of him being so forthright and friendly would be devastatingly wrong and be let down by his absence. You can see how this would make any woman's head spin!  I turn my head to the right ever so slowly.  I see a hand on the backside of the couch.  I look upward a little and notice a watch.  I recognize the hand . . . that arm . . . and I knew how classy Tod can be to wear a watch - it was him!!  I didn't need to look any slower, my eyes bolted upward to see his face.

"Now, what are you so frustrated about?"  He asked cunningly.  That's what I liked about him.  Witty and charming would get any one's attention, or at least he got mine.

I was so happy to see him!  I got up, jumped over the couch and literally lunged into his arms, wrapping my entire body around him.  I was tired of being shamed by my own family who didn't accept the lovable type of affection, and all I wanted to do is give into it - it's human nature, isn't it?  I didn't want to feel ashamed for it and was tired of pretending with Tod, too.  I needed to let it out!  The day was so horrible, and like any other day that is a let down, I wish he was there.  Today, like my knight and shining armor, he is here.  Like times before, but just on a whole new level.  I could have died, and if there is a chance it may happen, I wanted him to know that I love him completely and always have.  I kiss his face forcefully all over, a bit overbearing, but I felt like he just saved me somehow (like he had in the past).  Tears were rolling down my face in excess, both joyfully to be in his arms and relieved by my frustration.

Monica & Chandler on the show Friends

I remember looking side to side to see people watching us.  Some cooing in delight for our happiness, others who knew us didn't.  Those who didn't knew he was separated from his wife, but still technically married and I was a different woman in his arms.  Many of those also didn't believe in divorce, especially if there is young children involved, while others didn't judge because they looked at it as the heart wants what it wants and knew it was not just a random fling that got us here.  He noticed my eyes wandering and knew why they were.  He grabbed my attention, locked eyes and he fervently kissed me back like nobody was watching.  He kissed me like he didn't care what others thought, and that's the justification I needed from him to solidify our bond once and for all.

I still had my arms and legs wrapped around him when I told him how much I adore him and asked if he was certain about letting people know about us.  I asked because he had the tendency to be flighty before, and it was a risk he was taking.  Grinning with sincerity, he softly said, "I can't contain my love for you anymore, Ang.  I can't live a lie.  I am drawn to you like a moth to a flame.  What is a lie worth living if I can't have you and yet unable to forget you?"

Sex Slaves - Part I

 **Before I begin telling you about my dream, I'm going to first start off by letting you know right now this is a long and complex dream, but is well worth the dramatic read.  Furthermore, the material may not be suitable for children and some adults.  There is sexual content, sexual intentions, sexual trade activity and language.  Read at your own discretion.**

Do you ever have a dream that you awake from and fall back asleep just to dream it again?  Do you ever have a dream that shares aspects of your life events and wonder if they are repressed memories?  Do you ever think your dreams are so life-like that they foretell present or future events in someone's life?  That's how this dream was to me, and in so many ways it showed me things that I could never fathom.  I don't know if my writing will reflect how my dream truly was, but it was dramatically showcased enough to win an Emmy Award if it was a movie (right here you are suppose to laugh with me), haha!


PART ONE
We were down on our luck, Jordan Supon and I. We were a couple living in impoverish conditions.  But not exactly like the impoverish person that lives on the street or living in a shelter, but a couple who couldn't put food in our mouths and didn't want to get to the point of no return.  We wanted to be proactive and thought of ways to not get to the point of being beggars on the street.  Jordan came to a conclusion after a long list of other ideas that failed us.  An idea that we debated on and argued over for hours.  An idea that we pleaded with God over that is was the only sure-fire way of stabilizing us.  The idea that we despised to do, but was stuck imagining it so we'd get the courage to follow through with it.
"I can't do it!" I shout holding tears back.
"I don't want us to have to do it either," Jordan says.  "Do you think I want someone else to have you?  It will devastate me!  I'm afraid I'll grow angry knowing that and will do something to that poor bastard who didn't know what was coming."
I broke down into tears.  Moments later I collect my composure and say, "do you think I will be okay seeing you with another woman?  This is probably what you want!  Something . . . anything different, even if it is putting us in danger!"
"That is not it whatsoever!  Hun, I love you, and I'm only doing this to help us out," Jordan says sincerely.  "If this is the only thing I wanted, I would have only put myself in danger and never make you apart of this.  But we are apart of each other and we have to do this together whether we want to or not."  Jordan held my arms and looked me dead in the eyes.  His sincerity and the way he looked at me in desperation gave me the nudge I most dreaded - I nodded my head in agreement and he made the call.  We are going to sell our sex for money.  Nothing more, nothing less.  We have now gone to the lowest class that I never knew that we would.  We were not going to be one anymore - it won't matter if it were one or 20 other sex partners, we knew it will mess with our minds and nothing like that will ever be the same between us.  But knowing me, I had to see some light on this decision as a way to cope.  So, I sat there on the living room floor still in a state of shock while Jordan was in the other room on the phone, reminding myself I'm selling sex, but I wasn't a prostitute.  I was not doing this to profit, I was doing this to survive.  And I wasn't like any other drug-addicted whore, I am clean and refined.  This was my licentiousness. 

Jordan and I walk down the street of downtown.  I don't know where we are meeting these people; Jordan kept pretty quiet about that.  I kept my head up high so nobody would see my fear, and heck,  so I wouldn't see it either.  I don't know how Jordan was feeling, but he looked like a man on a mission ready to do business and get it over with.  We begin to come up on a small nail salon and a tall haggard lady is outside filing her long overgrown fake nails.  I took it as her waiting for clients or at least trying to advertise her business outside as people walk by, but in my heart I also knew she must be the one we were coming to see.  I realize right then and there why Jordan asked me to dress classy right along with him, and my fur coat definitely showed it.  We were pretending to be high-dollar call girls (and boys).  Like we knew what we were doing.  Guess putting on a brave face paid off!
"You all want something?  Nails done?  We do male manis and pedis too!"
Jordan said something to her in code to let her know it was us.  We were outside for a few minutes and as they spoke, their words began to fade as I got lost in thought watching this woman.  Blue nails, ugly stained teeth, raggedy old skin, older looking than her age.  I watched her smack her gum like her shit doesn't stink.  I said to myself I wasn't as bad as her - thank God!  All I could imagine after looking at her physical features, is wondering what can't be seen, like the diseases she might carry knowing she will be having sex with my fiance!  I grew hatred for this woman I didn't even know, and I even began to feel my face tighten up in front of them.  She noticed.  "You okay, Doll?"
"Yeah, just peachy," I say sarcastically, and continue.  "So, if we give you these services, would you throw in some free nails for me?"  I had nothing to lose.  Plus, I don't ever get a chance to do my nails because I didn't have the money.  I was also thinking like a business person.  If I get in with her enough, become better acquainted, maybe I can draw up other people who would gladly do this shit with her and whomever else she's got, and leave me and Jordan out of it, one of these days.
"Sure, Doll," she replies to me, then looks at Jordan.  "Right this way you two."  She brought us in past the salon area to what appeared to be a break room with a table and a couple of lounge chairs.  She walks back outside and lights up a cigarette.  I could tell she was a bit skittish about anyone seeing this transaction go down.  Also, from the looks of it, she was waiting for her husband or lover (who knows what he was to her!) to get there since I didn't see anyone else there besides the three of us.  It was quite awhile before he showed and I was growing restless.  I was here to do a job and if people won't be on time, then they are disrespecting my time and my services.  I started to walk up to the lady to ask when this guy was going to get here, but halfway to her she perks up outside as someone came her way.  It was HIM.  The man I was going to have sex with.  The bastard who will violate me anyway he wants to since he's paying me in exchange.  I felt like I was about to lose my virginity all over again . . . nervous, afraid, and yet inviting.
Jordan comes out from the back slowly, as if walking out slow will stop time somehow.  As he was walking out I was being introduced.  His name was Buck, or Bo, or something, I don't remember, but let's just call him Buck.  And let's call the lady Lyla so that we can differentiate everybody in the dream.  "Hi, my name is Angela."  Shit!  I use my real name, and how can I be so casual about this?  How does someone act in this type of a situation?  Be cool, I tell myself.  Buck looks like he just crawled off the couch after drinking a 6-pack.  He has a stained white tank top on, blue jeans and a belt that seemed to be holding up his beer gut rather than his pants.  He was grey-haired and a bit scruffy on his face.  His eyes were blue and they appear to show a more sensitive side to him than his exterior does.  (In real life I don't know who Buck or Lyla are).
Lyla eagerly says, "Follow me everyone, " and we follow her to the back.  She shuts the salon down, turns off the lights, we enter the break room . . . pass the break room after another door.  We were going further back.  How far back does this salon go, I ask myself?  By this point, Jordan and I were so caught up thinking what we were going to do next, that we didn't speak much after this.  We were also mysteriously allured by the unknown.  Lyla turns on a dim hallway light.  "Welcome!  This is where we stay.  Nothing fancy but it's very close to work," Lyla jokes.  Buck was enamored by Lyla's demeanor and he was getting excited like a damn dog, almost panting for a treat he knew he was about to receive.  I was his treat.  Lyla enters a room to the right and turns on another dim, but this time, red lamp, assigning me and Buck to that room.  Lyla smirks and looks back at us as she escorts Jordan in front of her to take him somewhere else.  Jordan looks back and I feel terrible we couldn't turn back now.  "Don't worry, Doll," she says, "You'll have him back in no time."
I stood in the hallway with my neck down and my shoulders up with guilt and anxiety.  Suddenly, Buck excitedly says to Lyla, "be where I can see you!"  They both smile at one another.  My heart sank.  Not only was it mine, and probably Jordan's as well, worst nightmare to do something like this, but now we'd have to witness each other's act played out.  "Now you're mine," he whispers to me and hoists my body up in his arms and clutches one of his hands on my vagina to hold me up.  He shouts one last time to Lyla who was already in the living room at the edge of the hall, "take it slow and warm him up real good before I see him FUCK you!"  My ears burn with fury, but I held my composure.  I thought I'd have some power in this, but I was powerless.

He carries me into the room.  The bed is against the door side wall - a good position just to see out enough to watch his whore fuck my love.  He threw me down on to the bed.  He told me all he wants to do is enjoy touching my body for awhile.  This nightmare is being drawn out when I planned for it to be quicker than how it's going.  First he was late, and now he wants to go slow?  I kept glancing out of the doorway from the bed but I saw nothing.  I tried to stay focused on Buck, but it was really hard.  Buck wasn't at the least concerned to look with me, even though he said he wanted to watch Lyla.
He notices that I keep glancing towards the living room and advises, "She'll let me know when it's time.  It's our alone time now."  He strips off my clothing one by one.  First, my coat then by blouse.  He caresses ever so gently his fingers against my skin as he slips my garments off.  He kisses my shoulders and my neck.  I was stiff as a board.  It felt so wrong on so many levels, but I couldn't help to know how pleasant it felt.  I imagine he was not real to get through this ordeal.  After I was stripped bare, he lays me down gently, and he follows on top.  He was still dressed.  I couldn't help but desperately look out to the living room, but Buck was quite large and obscured my view every so often.  I still saw nothing.  But I did hear some commotion from the other room that I couldn't make out exactly.  But I knew it was Jordan and I just prayed he was okay.  I felt Buck's scratchy beard on my cheek, he keeps kissing my neck.  He shot up and undid his belt and his pants drop.  He was now only in his tank and boxer shorts.  This was it, I said to myself.  He jumps on me, more aroused than before.  He asks me to hold his penis.  It was throbbing.  He was dry humping me as I held his penis so he'd get off manually.  As he was sliding up and down my body, he looks into my eyes.  He stops abruptly with what he was doing.  Uh oh, he saw the fear in my eyes.  He quickly hops off the bed and puts his pants back on.  As he was doing so he asks sternly, "You've never done this before, have you?"
I sat silent.
"Come on, spit it out."  He calms down and sat at the edge of the bed and gestures me to sit at the edge of the bed with him, so I did, bringing the sheets with me to cover me up.  He passes me my bra to put back on.  He sighs, "So, what's the deal?"
I cracked.  "We need the money, badly.  We need to eat."
"I thought you've done this before?" He asked.  I shook my head slowly confirming a no.  "We are paying you like you know what you're doing, so I technically can take what I want . . . and I easily can."  There was a pause.  I got a knot in my throat.  I palmed both my knees.  Then Buck says, "but I won't."  A sigh of relief came over me.  He asks me how everything came to be and I told him.  He began to feel sorry for mine and Jordan's situation.  He also listened to me how all this sex trade made me feel, saw my point-of-view and began to feel bad about it because it was some insight on something he never thought about.  I start to connect with Buck and realize that he has some compassion, and he showed me that compassion by reading my eyes rather than ignoring it to get his rocks off.  "You need money . . . I need sex.  In some way we are both addicts, in other ways we are both desperate for it," Buck concludes.  He made sense.  He was right.  We sat and talked for awhile, my stiff shoulders relaxed and my fear-filled face was now with smiles of understanding.
Soon though, in the distance we hear Lyla grunt out a call of arousal, "are you ready, Babycakes?"
Buck looks at me, nods and says to me, "I'll take care of this, don't you worry.  You two shouldn't be doing this."  He calls back to Lyla, "um, sweetie, I don't think I want to do it this way this time."
She comes in view with Jordan.  I scurry to focus on them.  They couldn't see us down the hall into the room, but we could see them.
"What!?  This was your idea!" She yells across to Buck.
"They don't want this and I don't want this for them," Buck says trying to reason with her.  "They are not who you think they are."
"I know they're not," Lyla yelps back.  "I made this little pup squeak.  He couldn't hold it in any longer when I told him I was going to hurt his darling young girlfriend if he didn't tell me.  I knew something was up and, you know what?  I kind of like it."  She pulls Jordan's naked body behind her naked body, maneuvering him with cloth she has tied around his wrist and just enough lead for her to pull on it like he was her puppet and she was his puppet master.  "Now that I know he doesn't really want to do this, makes me really want to do it more."
"Lyla, please don't do it," Buck again pleads with her.  "They only want food.  We can share food."
But Lyla didn't listen.  Her mind was set.  I look at Jordan and he looks exhausted, like he was beaten to think he was no more than Lyla's slave.  He was spacey and had no life in him.  He was so drained that he rested his head on her back as they stood there in a doggy-style position.  It felt like all I could do is watch.
She rubs her ass against Jordan.  Lyla shouts to me, "Hey!  If he didn't want this, his dick wouldn't be so hard!"  And she showed it to me.  She did get me thinking.  Why would he be hard unless he likes it a little?  But, I also know just because a body part is aroused doesn't mean mentally one wants to have sex.  I also hoped perhaps Jordan in someway had strength left in him to push himself to get a hard-on to get this madness over with.  "Stick it in.  Stick it in me!"  Lyla kept repeating to Jordan.  But when that didn't work, she grabs both of the cloths on his arms with one hand, and with the other hand reaches under her and guides his penis inside of her.  She let out a moan as he enters, almost like she was throwing it in my face.  He thrusts hard into her.  I see the muscles in his buttocks going to work, and I become strangely aroused in the moment thinking about our love making and became a little jealous.  He thrusts again deep inside of her with hatred and disgust that he started to huff.  "See?  This is how it should be done," Lyla chuckles and moans with hurtful pleasure in between.  "Get 'em mad and they fuck you like a wild animal - good and hard!"
I see Jordan lift his eyes up to me.  I know he couldn't see me in the dark room, but he wanted me to see him try.  I knew that face, it was like a 'sorry' to me because he was about to cum.  Lyla felt that he was about to as well and reminded him that the transaction is not made unless he empties out into her.  His huffing turns soft and his lips were still.  He thrusts one last time and let out an awe of relief and came inside the old hag. She doubles over in pleasure and pushes him away from her.  He falls exhausted to the floor and I run out to be by his side.
"Well young lady, " Lyla concludes, "He doesn't last long, but at least he has a few squirts in him.  I got him to cum about five times before we came out here and that was only foreplay.  He must have liked something I was doing."  She was trying to rub it in my face as if I was not adequate enough for Jordan.
We got the money and left.  We didn't talk about that night at all to each other.  It was best left unsaid, even though apart of me wishes to understand how he could have been so aroused.  We stop at a gas station and pick up lottery tickets and some food.  The day after we end up winning the lottery and looked for a house in a safe neighborhood.  It goes to show you when one door closes, another one opens.  When life challenges you, some good will come from it.

Read Sex Slave - Part II to read the continuation of the dream with a slight twist.