Chapter 1: Jamie
A sharp crack of thunder roused Jamie from sleep, the filaments of his dream falling away as he sat up in bed. Grogginess meant that it took him a moment of scanning the room to remember that he wasn’t in his old bedroom in his mother’s house. No one was crashing into his bedroom to drag him out of bed by his hair, no one was screaming or throwing things. The sound that had woken him was just the storm.
As his heart settled, Jamie remembered a more vivid dream, the one he’d had before the one about his mother.
The one with the… tentacles.
Heat rose to his cheeks. He’d tried to fight them off and lost so quickly. They’d held him helpless, slithering all over his body and inside him, stuffing him full even as they milked his cock.
He groaned and scrubbed his hands over his face. That was what he got for looking up all that stuff before he went to bed. It had put all those thoughts in his head, and his subconscious had gone wild with it.
Even though heknewit was a dream, Jamie couldn’t help glancing again at the darkest shadows in the room. He knew it was crazy, but it had felt so real. Like it had really happened. Like he’d really been held down and fucked, invaded by slithering, twisting—
“It wasn’t real,” he muttered to himself, pressing his face into his hands as he tried to chase away the arousal that spiked through him at the memory. “It wasn’t real, and you didn’t—you didn’tlikeit.”
He stared at the room. His apartment was still and quiet. It was the same old apartment. There was no monster lurking in the shadows.
”You didn’t like it,” Jamie told himself again. But there was a current of uncertainty there, instead of conviction. It had been terrifying, overwhelming, but part of him had… had almost…
”No,” he growled to himself, throwing the covers back. “Stop thinking about it.”
A shock of pain lanced up through his core as he moved to stand, and it made him realize how much his arms and legs also ached. Like he’d been tensing his whole body for a long time. Because of the dream…?
There was another rumble of thunder, the beginning patter of rain against the glass. It was shaping up to be a gloomy, rainy day.
On the bright side, it was also his day off. He wouldn’t have to go out and try to move stuff with the rain. Kind of lucky that he was off today, for how his body felt.
He needed to run a few errands and to get groceries today, but maybe he would put that off until the afternoon. See if the rain let up before venturing out.
A cozy morning in sounded like exactly what he needed.
Gingerly, Jamie got himself to his feet. He was sore all over, and as he climbed out of the messy pile of sheets he realized he was naked. Again. Hadn’t he gone to bed with underwear on?
Some quick searching found them on the floor, almost under the bed. Jamie had to bend slowly down to get them, body protesting. He hadn’t planned on showering this morning, but some hot water would do him good.
Standing again, he took stock of himself. His body ached, and his nipples and cock felt overly sensitive again, like they had after his previous dream.
Like maybe that tentacle arm had been milking him over and over again.
Jamie scowled. He was being ridiculous. He’d lost his boxers in the night, so probably he’d just rutted against the sheets in his sleep while he was bare, and that’s why he felt over-sensitive.
It… it didn’t explain why certain other parts of him also felt sore. Felt well-used.
With no small amount of trepidation, Jamie gingerly reached down between his legs. His fingers touched at his hole, but there was no wetness there.
He felt stupid for being relieved. But if the dream had beenrealsomehow—which was crazy, it was still crazy—there would be some evidence, right? He remembered that part of the dream vividly. Being pumped full of come. Even as he looked down his body, his arms and legs, there were no marks from the struggling he’d done. There was nothing to indicate anything had actually happened.
He walked to the bathroom and flipped on the light. In the mirror he didn’t even look tired. If anything, there was a brightness to his face, like he’d finally gotten some rest.
“You’re being ridiculous,” he told his reflection. “Nothing happened. It was just a dream.”
He took a brief, hot shower, mostly just standing under the spray and letting it beat down on his sore muscles. He felt the tension ease, and sighed.
Washed and dressed down in comfy clothes for the day, Jamie padded to the kitchen. The storm outside was in full swing now, and his apartment had grown even darker. He went about starting a cup of tea for himself and grabbing one of the bananasoff the counter. He leaned against the kitchen counter as he ate it, scowling at the room at large.
The back of his neck prickled like someone was watching, but he refused to look. He knew no one was there.
Jamie tossed the banana peel and started on making a bowl of oatmeal on the stove. The prickling on the back of his neck intensified, and he gave in to looking over his shoulder more times than he’d care to admit. Every time, the apartment was empty. Of course it was.