Her Magic Touch, Chapter 3

She doesn't sleep well that night. Obviously...

Her Magic Touch, Chapter 4

After a while, Don finds his composure and says,...

Dream #1


This story may contain adult content.
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Written by J.J   
Sunday, 01 June 2008


In this dream I was a woman, and a attractive young woman at that, albeit with a nose a little too sharp for my usual   tastes .Heather, that's who I was. I was beginning my stay at this rather grand hotel, an ex-mansion by the looks of things.The corridors all had fine ornaments littering them, and the chandeliers were of the most opulent kind. The carpets, they were detailed in decoration, and thick too, so much so that you could lie awake in the soft,soft bed and just hear muffled footsteps padding and pacing up the corridors.


The owners of the place were a woman, Angeline (slightly older than I) and a rather dashing man, Django, with a moustache that really suited him. All I learned during my stay was that she was the real owner, and he was sort of a butler, with excellent marksmanship skills apparently. Once there had been a burglar, a violent, mentally ill man, who had broken into the hotel and set about stalking from room to room, looking for things to steal - anyway Django cracked off a superb shot through a window, using an elderly blunderbuss, shattering the intruders face, all bits of bloody face and splinters of bone scattering - anyway, Django was a good shot, and a charming man.


I'd spent my first day doing, well I can't quite recall what I was doing in the day, but I felt I'd earned a good night's sleep anyhow. The night was utterly silent, not even a quiet breeze. Then things started to happen.The door to my room starting swinging and slamming itself against the wall, and by the sounds of it, all the other doors were doing that as well. I rushed into the corridor, and the electricity was flickering, and I ran to the main study where Angeline and Django were to be found.

 

On the way, I saw there was one door, amongst all the chaos, that was not moving. Every other door was trying to free itself from the bondage of hinges, and yet this door had a deathly quiet to it. I caught myself thinking of a mausoleum door, and I pulled it open, and stepped inside the room. Angeline and Django were both there, and my entry caught them by surprise, so I was able to see the horrible scene for myself: they were holding a bedsheet, with two bodies on it,bodies with the faces gone. The room was slashed with blood, and I screamed. This was some fresh hell,and they were clearly long dead, but still they were pumping blood and bleeding from their unveiled orfices, they had been ******* at the time, look at the intermingling of the bloods between her   legs,screaming,his penis comically still erect,and scream and scream and scream...

 

We were in the main downstairs room, a billiards table in the middle, a bar to one side, and comfy sofas a-plenty. The owners   explained why murder and mayhem came here:no reason, it simply was. Every night the doors would slam,and the one that didn't led to a deathbed. I wanted to leave,but...maybe I wanted to stay,and be the heroine of the tale, the one who finds the killer. Looking into the eyes of the other guests, it seemed I was not the only pretender to this throne. I wanted to be attacked, to be defiled by this spirit, I wanted to survive it. I stayed, we all stayed, there was no leaving anyway.

 

I didn't trust Django, he smiled too damn often for a supposedly haunted man. The stench of blood was in the air, but he smiled on.The next night, well I was ready. I was fully awake anyway. Ever since I was a little girl, I wanted to be the One, to meet the One, and to fight him. Soon, He, sweet dear He, would be here and he would wipe off my face and force a torrent of lifeblood from betwixt my legs. I felt so giggly, I won't be offering any resistance. Finally, night drew upon me and my darling in this hotel.The slamming soon began, and to my delight, my door did not join it.You lovely little door,you non-conformist,you! Then the door slide open. There was a white, bright light and the corridor was no longer there. I stepped into the light...


...and aaagh! Oh god,oh god,the grip of the force was on my knees, bursting them, my kneecaps falling to the soles of my shoes god I was a virgin why was I always a virgin when I'm a woman who wants to die the eyeballs are the first to go dribbling out onto your cheeks like candlewax,and then you can feel the inside pushing out until you have a huge ******* thing between your pretty red legs. Give me strength.

 

The world falls away and I am a boy.I have a bottle of Jack Daniels, a joint, and a laptop. Standing on a grassy slope in Dallas Plaza, the one and only Grassy Knoll, where John Dillinger beat a lot of jerk-offs to the prize of JFK's head. There are two teenage girls approaching, one's kinda ugly, but,oh, the other, that's a real prize. I offer them my JD, they take it and get drunk, and soon we're rolling around naked in front of the Book Depository. The laptop is sitting there, I was trying to look up the hotel, but soon I got distracted. I want to offer the girls the joint, but I can't find the words...just sitting.



Copyright 2008 J.J
Keyword: Dream #1
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Comments (4)
Posted by sTiCkFiGuRe
2008-06-02 10:30:34
dude

Not a big fan of this story at all. Ill just save ya time on the review and take it to the last sentence//terrible way to end a story. It was just..(im done)
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Posted by soulwriter
2008-06-02 14:34:40
....

Hmm. I have no recollection of writing this, but you're right - that last sentence is not needed at all. Thanks.
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Posted by sTiCkFiGuRe
2008-06-02 17:04:18
....

Ive too have had nights of not recollecting things ive done. One time I could hardly walk the next day, and my jaw hurt real bad...hey hey,,im talking bout the night I got real drunk and twisted my ankle as I fell on my face. Gave it a five this time.
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Posted by flossy
2008-06-30 07:01:43
....

Did'nt really like it.I thought great descriptions and the characters were pretty good.Just the story lost me but no big deal.goodluck.
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Last Updated ( Monday, 02 June 2008 )
 
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