I don’t often remember my dreams anymore, but one that I can still vividly recall is one I had only a day or two before I decided to divorce my wife:
I wake to another day of furniture refinishing as a captive refinisher. My sister, Vel, was also there as a prisoner; we were slaves to the factory. We would get fed that day if we met our quota, which I had already met that day. Vel was having difficulty doing that , so I decided that I had to help her. I knew of a bureau drawer that I had recently refinished (in real life), so I decided to escape long enough to retrieve the dresser and return with it so she could eat that day.
I walked up to the house we grew up in on Valley Hi Drive, and entered the front door. Up the stairs was the dresser I needed, so I walked up and found two moving men carrying all my things out of the house. I told them to leave the particular dresser because I was going to take it myself, and they said OK.
I walked into the bedroom where the bureau sat, reassured that it was still there, then I decided to look in the other upstairs bedroom – the house had two bedrooms upstairs that I used, one as a bedroom, the other as a sitting room. I walked into my bedroom, and found the room changed: the walls were covered in black leather with all sorts of ropes, manacles, dildoes, whips, and other stuff hanging from them. The bed was clothed in black as well. I was struggling to take all these changes in and sat upon the bed. Moments later, my father, wearing a harness, chaps, and a codpiece, strode into the room. I was completely confused and asked him what was going on. He sat next to me and told me that my mother and he had been experimenting with an alternative lifestyle. That explaination was also confusing, but he suddenly had an obscenely huge erection, had pinned me to the bed, and was raping me.
At this point I woke up with tears streaming down my face, and a hard-on.
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