Difference between revisions of "Dreams"

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(I dont know if location is relevant, Male #1 was at gwendy's farm)
 
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:When you wake up, you are sporting a raging hard-on. Your whole body is tingling, and your heart is racing. Grudgingly, you get up to face the day.
 
:When you wake up, you are sporting a raging hard-on. Your whole body is tingling, and your heart is racing. Grudgingly, you get up to face the day.
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;Male #2 (possibly gender neutral and dependent on scholar)
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:Your pupils sit in orderly rows as you read from a dry tome in your hands. A hand is raised in the back, and after finishing the sentence, you shut the book, waving for the student to speak. He stands, and you can barely make him out in the distance.
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:“Sir,” the piping voice somehow carries to you through the distance. “What is agoraphobia?” As you look, the student seems to recede further. Behind him, the rows go on and on, spreading outwards and stretching endlessly, until there is nothing in your view but an endless sea of desks, an endless sea of intent faces.
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:Breathing a little fast, you glance down hurriedly, and reopen the book. There. Only you and the words.
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:You awaken, shivering slightly. What a peculiar dream.

Revision as of 03:52, 16 March 2018

These are dreams the PC can have. They are in no real particular order.

Male #1
You are not sure of where you are exactly, only that you are very happy to be there. Relaxing and enjoying yourself, you lie back on an enormous, soft pillow, gazing up at the fluffy, pink haze above. Someone puts some kind of sweet in your mouth, which you greedily eat up, sighing as you feel it melt in your mouth. Slowly, you become aware of more people surrounding you, maidens and youths of all shapes and sizes. You can’t seem to focus on any one in particular, but they are all very beautiful, and very scantily clad.
You sink deeper into the warm embrace of silk and skin, countless hands softly caressing your body. Lips tasting of fresh cherries lock with yours, and you feel someone straddling you...
When you wake up, you are sporting a raging hard-on. Your whole body is tingling, and your heart is racing. Grudgingly, you get up to face the day.
Male #2 (possibly gender neutral and dependent on scholar)
Your pupils sit in orderly rows as you read from a dry tome in your hands. A hand is raised in the back, and after finishing the sentence, you shut the book, waving for the student to speak. He stands, and you can barely make him out in the distance.
“Sir,” the piping voice somehow carries to you through the distance. “What is agoraphobia?” As you look, the student seems to recede further. Behind him, the rows go on and on, spreading outwards and stretching endlessly, until there is nothing in your view but an endless sea of desks, an endless sea of intent faces.
Breathing a little fast, you glance down hurriedly, and reopen the book. There. Only you and the words.
You awaken, shivering slightly. What a peculiar dream.