The Dreamscape (part one)


sweet dreamsNot in London anymore

Amy watched the grey-brown pipes slide by hypnotically as the tube train clattered through the tunnel. Every once in a while there would be an unexpected flash of mauve or some other equally unlikely colour. It came to something when the view through the window of an underground train was more interesting than brightly lit carriage around her, but that pretty much summed up her life these days.

Then the note of the motor changed and the momentum tugged at her as the train slowed down. The grey-brown darkness gave way to bright white tiles and multi-coloured film posters for movies she would never see, starring people she had never heard of, their names emblazoned over titles like Vampire Princess and Junk Town Jerk. Even the faces of the impossibly beautiful people on the posters, with their inane grins, were unfamiliar to her. This year’s US soap star from a show that hadn’t been cancelled yet, which was so bad that it hadn’t even made the cable channels over here. These people must have good agents, she thought bitterly as the train pulled out of the station and plunged back into the dark, perhaps that’s what I need, Amy thought. She was dimly aware that she did even know what station she had just passed through and even less that, she didn’t care.

She went back to looking at the brown-grey pipes racing by the window and watching out for unexpected flashes of colour. It was a bit like her life, she realised, straight inevitable lines of monotony, broken only by the occasional flash of colour.

Tearing her eyes from the depressing rolling tableau, she cast a bored eye around the carriage. There was an impossibly beautiful girl sitting opposite. She wore black spray-on leggings over perfect legs. With a little black dress that matched her stunning stark-black bobbed hair framing her movie star face. She didn’t look happy. She looked out at the world under her perfect fringe with dark brown eyes and a feint look of disgust. Then the girl noticed Amy watching her and her pout became more pronounced. Her eyes said, ‘don’t look at me, you’re not worthy.’

Amy looked quickly away. To her right had been a man in his 30s who was so far out her league she couldn’t bear to look at him. He would have gone for Miss Perfect no doubt. But he had gone now. He must have got off at the last stop, she thought regretfully.

At least with him gone she could run a little fantasy in her head about him. Something she could never do with him standing 10 feet away. What had he been wearing? It didn’t matter, she could choose for him.

Then she noticed the dwarf. Well that wasn’t kind. He was just hunched up, victim of some affliction, cerebral-something maybe. He had a nice face, with a well-defined jaw and brown friendly eyes, but his body made her shudder, spoiling the mood for her fantasy.

She looked away and saw that Miss Perfect was still scowling at her. Amy averted her eyes and blushed. Damn.

She imagined Miss Perfect being forced by law, by god, by… something to be the sex slave of the dwarf… the man with the nice face, she amended. A small smile danced on her lips and then she blushed again. What if the dwarf could read minds?

She remembered the joke her brother had told her back when they were kids.

“Amy gets sent to hell and waiting for her is a devil. He shows her an old crone with ugly boils having sex with a George Clooney look-alike. ‘He is being punished,’ the devil cackles. Then he introduces Amy to the most beautiful man she had ever seen. ‘This man will indulge your every sexual whim,’ the devil says. ‘He will,’ says Amy, ‘but I thought this was hell?’ ‘Oh this isn’t your punishment,’ the devil says, ‘this is his.’”

Amy had laughed, but she had long turned 30 without a sniff of a man and the joke was still on her.

She thought of Peter. Boring Peter and holding hands in the park. She remembered him asking if he could kiss her and the fumbling in the dark. Real men don’t ask. Real men don’t fumble.

She remembered the rugby player at college. She never knew his name. He had tried to chat her up. He was gorgeous. She had insulted his team in challenge and he had gone away hurt. She had been crushed. It had only been a joke; a line. You should have tamed me. You should have… what? In her fantasies he gets angry and grabs her. Takes her knickers down in front of everyone and spanks her bare bottom. She would have died, but she would have done anything he wanted afterwards.

In real life men were like Peter, like the dwarf, she glanced back into the blackness. The lines of grey-brown pipes were still racing by as if on a journey to a destination unknown.

The brief flash of light took her unawares and for a moment she got to see the 100-year-old bricks that lined the old Victorian tunnel. Then the train came to a crashing halt and the darkness came in as the lights went out.


Amy became aware of the draft first. It was not cold, but unfamiliar somehow. Then as she began to wake up, it was the hard oppressive ground beneath her that most urgently demanded her attention. It was about then that she realised she was naked and her eyes flew open.

It was dark with a small light somewhere behind her. Something felt wrong, very wrong. She began clutching at herself and seeking for injuries with her hands. She was hurt in some way, she knew it.

Although there was no blood, she realised there must have been a dreadful accident. She was obviously still in the tunnel somewhere and the force of the crash had ripped off all her clothes.

Even as she rehearsed the explanation, part of her knew it didn’t quite fit. She was smaller, firmer somehow and her breasts didn’t feel right. Also her hair was much longer. She must have been in a coma for months to have physically changed so much. But if that was true, why was she still in the tunnel?

She sat up and looked around in the gloom, torn between the desire to work out what had happened and the fear that she might not like it.

The walls were of rough stone, like in an old building, not the smooth white tiles or the yellow London brick she had been expecting. Also the light was natural. She got unsteadily to her feet and took some awkward steps towards the light.

“Hello?” Her voice did not sound like her own, not quite. “Is there anybody there? Is this a hospital? I think I must have…”

She had woken up from the coma weeks after the crash and in a semi-conscious state had wandered down into the cellar of… of a medieval hospital, she concluded as she fixed on the walls. Doesn’t the Whittington still have medieval parts to it? She was grasping at straws.

Amy crinkled up her nose. There was a faint smell of… a latrine. But otherwise the air was fresh, clean even. To her left was an alcove with a privy like the one she had seen in a castle somewhere when on holiday in Wales. Furthermore there were bars at the far end of the stone chamber.

“Oh my god,” she said, trying to supress the panic. “I haven’t woken up; I’m still in the coma.” She took another step forward and grasped the hard iron bars. They were chilled beneath her fingers and unrelenting in their semblance of reality.


Amy had been sitting on the floor near the bars for what seemed like hours now. Her bottom was numb from the hard floor pressing into her bare bottom, but she dared not move or do anything to alleviate it. That would be an acceptance of this reality.

Then she heard a rattle of chains and a heavy footfall on the stone floor coming nearer. There had been other occasional sounds of the sort in the background over the last hour or so, but none as definite as this.

For a moment she took the silhouette looming out of the light as a demon, but then he rattled the keys and began to unlock the door.

“Good morning,” he said cheerfully as he turned the key. “A nice wash and then breakfast, there’s a good girl.”

He was a stout friendly looking man with a bald patch. His bare arms were as thick as tree trunks and he wore an old-fashioned leather apron over rough sandy-brown trousers.

“Where are my clothes?” Amy said sullenly.

The man took a step back in confusion and then slowly scratched his head. “What clothes?” He shook his head in denial for a moment before settling on a smile. “You girls come out with the strangest things sometimes.”

“I mean it. I want my clothes and then I want to see the doctor. I want to know what happened.” Amy found the confidence to assert herself.

“Now, now, none of that; no games now. You don’t want to get the Master angry.” The man stopped smiling and continued to open the door.

“Are you the Master? What is this place?” Amy hugged herself more tightly, tucking her heels into her sex to covering it. This was an outrage.

“I’m Tomas, I put you in here yesterday after you came in with that other girl,” Tomas said patiently. “The traders swore you were bred for it, you saying you’re a captive?”

“Captive? What are you saying? I’m Amy…” Amy paused. She couldn’t remember her last name. “I’m Amy and I am a…”

Amy’s eyes darted in her head in panic. She couldn’t remember her last name, what she did or where she was going when she was on the train.

“There, there, shush,” Tomas soothed. “It will come back. You just caught a little sun on your journey is all. Come on now and get that wash.”

“Sun? My journey? I was in a tunnel. What are you talking about? I was on the Underground in London. I was…” Amy’s jaw hung open. It was all fragments, bits of a life. “My body was different…” The last bit was not directed at him.

Tomas grabbed her gently by the earlobe and hauled her to her feet. She squealed and protested. Her hands fluttered trying to cover her nudity as she was led by the ear into the light.

If Amy had not been fighting her guide at the same time as she was trying to cover her nudity, she would have noticed that she was no longer the same overweight 30-something slightly too tall stooped mousey woman she had been. If anyone had been behind them when Tomas led Amy into the courtyard at the end of the short tunnel from her cell, they would have seen a cascade of reddish-brown tousled hair tumbling down a narrow feminine back to a firm well-defined round bare bottom set atop of long firm straight legs. From the front, if Amy had looked up that is, anyone in the courtyard would have seen a startling beauty with oval bright brown eyes, a cute turned up nose set above a full firm mouth. As it was, the kitchen staff and the Master were treated to a view of a woman with small firm breasts and a nipped waist that tapered to an impossibly flat stomach.

It was the body that Amy had always dreamed of, the one she had in her daydreams, although anyone who had known the old Amy would have recognised the essentials in her face.

However for now, Amy was oblivious to this as she kicked out at Tomas and tried to wriggle free of the grip he had on her ear. “Get your hands off me. This is an outrage. How dare you?”

“Hey you.” The voice carried command and Amy and Tomas froze.

The man who spoke was large, maybe six feet four and clad from head to foot in rough black trousers and singlet. His arms were not as thick as Tomas’s, but what they lacked in girth they made up for in definition. His short dark hair was grey at the temples, but Amy wouldn’t have put his age much above 40.

In any other circumstances, he was the kind of man that Amy would have pined for at a party, but never dared speak to. The kind of man who she would have taken home in her dreams while she remembered his arms and thick firm thighs.

“You. Stop making a fuss and get washed and breakfasted or I’ll know the reason why.” The man growled. Amy was in no doubt that this was the one that Tomas had called the Master.

Amy felt totally vulnerable standing totally naked in a yard in front of strangers and something about this man made her want to crawl away and obey him. There was something right about it. But another part of her saw how absurd it was, how outrageous and it was that part she now indulged.

“How dare you? I demand to know what is going on. Who are you people?” Amy felt foolish sounding so strident whist still naked, but none of this made any sense.

The Master shook his head in patient disbelief. Sometimes the thrall dealers lied about their girls being bred and trained for their work and sometimes trainers encouraged independent thinking among their thralls. Girls who just had to test every new master with a sort of game they needed to play. It didn’t matter to him which it was. With a heavy sigh he crossed the courtyard and took the girl by the arm while Tomas, already seeing how it would be, shrugged and moved off to attend to his other duties.

“Look I just want some clothes and for someone to tell me what is going on,” Amy said half-heartedly not liking the expression on the Master’s face one bit.

“I don’t have the slightest care for what you want,” the Master said throwing Amy over his shoulder so that her bare bottom was uppermost and on show in front of everyone.

Amy gasped as she was carried helplessly over to a bench which was set against the wall. Once there the Master sat down and pulled her effortlessly across his knee.

“Look… I’m not…” Amy was overwhelmed; her mind refusing to let her know what was going on.

The Master’s hand struck her sharply across the bottom and Amy yelped.

“You can’t do this,” Amy wailed.

The Master took no notice and administered a short hard spanking that left Amy’s bottom very red and Amy panting hard.

“Will you obey me now?” The Master growled.

“Please I…” Amy’s face burned with shame and she wondered if he or anyone else had noticed her arousal.

“Will you obey?” The Master was incredulous and began another round of spanking.

This time the swats took Amy’s breath away and she began to kick and beg. All to no avail as this time the Master spanked her hard for several long minutes until she began to cry.

“Will you obey me?”

“Yes, oh yes,” Amy sobbed.

“At last,” the Master sighed and dropped her to the floor.

He had already gone by the time Tomas appeared to help her up and lead her across the yard to some open plan shower stalls. Amy followed him sheepishly with one hand hiding her front and the other reaching back to half rub and half obscured her bottom.

“Anymore nonsense and I’ll whip your bottom raw and put you in the stocks for the rest of the day without breakfast,” Tomas scolded.

This was crazy, Amy thought, this was wrong, but it didn’t feel like it should. It was almost as if it was supposed to be happening. If only she could remember her name and more about her life before. She stopped herself in mid thought. She didn’t like where her mind was going.


The showers we adequate enough and if there hadn’t been a dozen people milling about not yards from where she stood naked, she might have enjoyed herself.

“That’s enough now, come get your porridge,” Tomas called out.

Remembering Tomas’s earlier threat, she grabbed the world’s smallest towel and hastily dried herself. The clean but tatty rag was little bigger than a flannel and wouldn’t even wrap around her waist. She abandoned it where she had found it on its hook, especially after she saw Tomas glaring at her when she had considered taking it.

With an arm across her breasts and one cupping her sex, she scampered over to a long wooden table set under a lean-to in the corner of the yard and made to sit down. The hard bench seat felt like it had been embossed with hot needles where she sat, so she launched herself upright again with a yelp.

“You had better eat standing up,” Tomas chuckled as he set down an earthenware bowl containing porridge in front of her.

Amy rubbed her bottom with a blush and then opted for kneeling, so that she had at least some measure of cover for her nudity.

“If you promise to behave I’ll put you in with your companion after breakfast,” Tomas continued.

“Who?” Amy frowned.

“Eat your porridge or… just eat your porridge.” Tomas fixed her with a stare and then ambled away.

After breakfast Amy was put in a cell with another girl who sat hugging herself in the opposite corner. The cell was more open than the one she had awoken in, although it had enough shade so that it remained pleasant as the day got increasingly hotter.

At first she was wrapped up in herself to notice much more than that, but after a while she saw that the girl was looking at her. It took a moment before Amy realised who it was.

“You were on the train,” Amy accused.

The girl nodded. She hadn’t changed as much as Amy had, although it was hard to tell given that she too had no clothes.

“Where are we? What is going on?” Amy scrambled across the floor to sit next to the girl.

“I… I don’t know, but…” she fell silent.

“You know something,” Amy said, shoving the girl angrily.

“It’s too crazy,” the girl replied.

“Tell me about it, it is all too crazy,” Amy pressed desperate to know, “tell me.”

“It’s something out of my head, my… fantasy, kind of,” the girl blushed. “It’s not real, it can’t be. Neither are you.”

Amy thought about the spanking from the Master. That had been her fantasy, of sorts anyway. That was why it hadn’t felt completely wrong she now realised. The girl said it wasn’t real. “What do you mean? There was an accident we…”

“We what, woke up different in a different world?” The girl spat angrily.

“Alien abduction maybe,” Amy’s eyes darted in her head as she began to think, “we are both lying on a table somewhere with our brains plugged into…”

The girl cocked on eyebrow and looked at Amy as if she were a very sad case. “Aliens, really?”

“Do you have a better explanation?” Amy asked bitterly.

“It’s all a dream and you are part of it,” the girl whispered.

“I am not a dream and… neither is this, but you already know that don’t you?”

“How do you know?”

“I think therefore I am. I am Amy… Amy Palmer, I’m a claims clerk in the dole office, I live… I can see it, damn, it’s coming though. I couldn’t make that up. Dreams don’t have that sort of detail.”

The girl was ashen white. “I’m Chloe.”

“It’s alright Chloe, we’ll work it out.”

“Will we? Have you considered that we might be dead?” Chloe looked at Amy and willed her to prove otherwise.

Amy baulked. She had, she realised. It had been one of the things she had pushed from her mind.

Both women fell silent and Amy looked around the yard. There weren’t so many people. Tomas and the Master moved about talking quietly with cooks and some women who were sweeping the yard. Here and there were young women in various states of undress. Some naked, others almost so, but wearing some kind of harness.

“It doesn’t look like hell and it certainly isn’t heaven,” Amy said at last.

“It’s out of my head I tell you, it’s a punishment, purgatory of some kind,” Chloe whispered.

“You’re Catholic?”

Chloe nodded and bit her lip.

Amy looked around and considered. “All this is a sexual fantasy of yours?” She watched the girl for any signs of denial before continuing. “And mine as well I think, although not the setting, just elements. The father figure Tomas and the Master… not to mention my body… my body, if this is purgatory why am I… improved? Why I am I here at all? I’m an atheist.”

Chloe shrugged. “Maybe it is aliens.”

Amy frowned until she saw the corners of Chloe’s mouth twitch. It was too much and Amy cracked until both women were laughing.

The laughter soon petered out and Amy saw that Chloe was looking pensive again. “Alright,” she said seriously, “if this is your… idea of… well if this is your world, then what are we in for? What is this place?”

Chloe blushed. “I don’t know, not exactly.”

Amy frowned again. “You must have some idea or you wouldn’t have recognised your… influence, shall we say?”

Chloe looked sheepish and licked her lips. “You are not going to like this.”

To be continued

9 Responses to “The Dreamscape (part one)”

  1. 1 paul1510

    Intriguing, but then most of your stories are. 😉
    I hope that we haven’t seen the last of ‘Magic’?

    • 2 DJ

      No. More magic coming up soon.

      This is just a quick three parter. 🙂


  2. I need to know what happens please.

    I really do.


    Thank you

  3. 4 Mindy

    I’m with Poppy, need to know what happens next. Looking forward to part 2.

    No more Magic? I hope you’re joking, DJ. 😦 😥

  4. 5 Scarlet


  5. 6 DJ

    Magic will be published soon – it is not having a long rest. I hestitate to give an ETA but Saturday is not impossible

    The next part of Dreamscape shpuld be out today with the final part tomorrow.

    Thanks 🙂


  6. It is really cool. (By “three parts” – do you mean “three parts now and many follow-ups later”? 😉 )

    • 8 DJ

      No it is just a three part story. 🙂

      Its about 10,000 words in all.


  1. 1 - Chross Guide To The Spanking Internet

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