At the Edge of Dreams tells the story of Kate, a confident businesswoman, queen of her empire. Hiding out in a remote cottage in Yorkshire she finds herself losing her grip on reality. Is what she is experiencing a dream state or an alternative reality where her fantasies come to life?
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The Dream
Kate dreamed, tossing and turning in the heat of the night, her dark hair flowing in waves across the white pillows. The sultriness of the air glistened on her pale skin as in her dream she saw legions of men, each with tantalising blue-veined hard flesh standing out before them. Her arms reached out, she wanted them, wanted to touch them, feel them inside her.
She moaned in her sleep as she imagined the first pushing into her sex, then another into her behind, a third forcing her mouth open, whilst her fingers enclosed the hard shafts of two more, standing to attention, ready. She writhed on the bed, the white sheets twisting around her, binding her tightly, preventing her spreading her legs. She struggled in her frustration. The dream faded.
Later in the night, when it was cooler, she lay on her back across the bed in a world somewhere between awake and her dreams. The sheets seemed transformed to black satin instead of her crisp white cotton. She felt more than saw a masculine presence; a dark shape against the moonlit curtains, a shadow that seemed to be blacker than the surrounding room. The sultry air seemed to stir almost imperceptibly as she sensed him move towards her.
His fingertips brushed over her ankles and then, barely kissing her skin, moved up her legs. Her muscles tensed, raising her hips towards the touch as they passed over her pubis but the fingers did not linger there.
She gasped, a small intake of breath that made the tiniest of sounds in the night air, as the fingertips brushed her nipples, touching them like a gentle breath, before moving along her right arm until they reached her wrist. Blood coursed through her veins and she could hear the sound of her own heartbeat pulsing rhythmically.
She felt something soft and silken encircle her wrist winding itself around her like a vine growing around a tree branch. She stirred slightly, enjoying the dream, as she sensed the same sensation against her other wrist. The bonds tugged against her skin lifting her hands from the bed and pulling them together above her head until her fingertips touched the solid metal of the cast iron bed head.
In her dream she smiled, submitting to the strange pleasure. Fresh ties wrapped themselves around her ankles as her unseen lover slipped something that felt like a leather collar around her neck. She wriggled in alarm at the sudden restriction, but the collar remained loose and she relaxed back into the dream. Gently hands pushed against her hips, hinting that she should roll over and languidly she complied. The palms pulled against her hips bringing her up to kneel on the bed, head down with her cheek brushing the silken sheets.
Pressure on ties around her ankles pulled her feet apart toward the bottom corners of the bed. She felt something cool and metallic extending down her back, it seemed to pulse as individual sections trailed each other across her skin like a line of large ants. She realised it was a metal chain as it slipped between the cheeks of her behind and then snaked between her legs. The links continued to unwind until she heard a soft click as it attached itself to a ring at the front of the collar.
She flexed her limbs dreamily, testing the bonds and found that the other end of the chain was secured to something above her. If she remained in just the right position it rested firmly against her sex but if she stretched her arms and swayed back on her knees the smallest amount it was pulled in between her lips, rubbing against her bud. She gasped and let out a soft moan, unable to suppress her arousal.
Was she really dreaming this? The thought invaded her consciousness. She was sure that in a moment she would open her eyes and see the dull grey light of dawn reflected on the ceiling above her and all that would remain would be the frustration seeping between her legs. She allowed herself to fall back into the euphoria of the dream.
She sensed her silent tormentor move away, Oh God, she thought as she wriggled against the restraints, he‘s not going to leave me like this. She felt the cool night air caress her behind, her sex was now swollen, glistening lips parted in anticipation. In exasperation, she wriggled against the hard metal of the chain trying to bring herself to some sort of a climax, but it offered her no satisfaction.
Her senses seemed to have heightened and she thought she could hear his breathing and the scent of a male musk seemed to drift into her mind. An essence that reminded her of something, something primaeval, the smell of nature, the smell of the forest. She was sure she could feel her visitor’s eyes on her, watching her, relishing her frustration.
She sensed movement as he seemed to glide silently closer to her. The chain between her legs was snapped apart and she felt the smooth swelling of the head of taught flesh brush against her. Eagerly she tried to push her hips back towards him but still she was not granted the release she sought. He waited, teasing her to the brink of ecstasy then just as she thought she would explode he lunged forward taking her with one violent thrust.
Kate squealed with joy, writhing on his shaft as he possessed her, her climax shuddering through her body so completely that for a moment she was unaware of his continued thrusting. Responding to a deep carnal urge her body swayed forward each time he withdrew, only to be drawn back towards him, sliding back down his shaft as he lunged forward, her hands pulling on the ties until they bit into her flesh.
She heard herself utter a sound like a she wolf howling at the moon that seemed to come from the depths of her body as his thrusts became deeper. He pulsed inside her and she felt as if the muscular flesh of their thighs was fusing together. Her mind leapt into a void as the most intense orgasm she had ever felt seemed to claim her very soul. Exhausted she slid forward against the soft sheets and blackness enveloped her.
Greetings Simone! I've been out of circulation for a while so I'm playing catch-up. Thrilled to see the launch of another addition to your opera omnia with this new serial effort. Obviously, my review is de novo, and I just finished a second run-through of this Prologue. As with all of my commentaries, I'll react to each new piece as you publish them, to keep things discrete.
This opener has all of the markers of classic "Franciscan" works, as you've explored writing erotica within different thematic contexts. You've taken your classic (and, as I'll never fail to point out, incredible classy and stylish) treatments of unconventional sexuality, BDSM, and explorations of the frontiers of erotic fantasy, and expanded your repertoire into a richer realm, by folding in the legendary, mythical, and preternatural. No other eroticist, to my knowledge, has produced steamy accounts of succubi cruising truck stops for truckers to rape and soul-suck in the cabs of their vehicles, nor hot vignettes about shriveled up, clerical hypocrites being given their comeuppance by a demonic femme fatale in a confessional ("Confession" is one of my favorites of yours, and where I coined "Satanic Vigilante," which is an awesome name for a band, or something which can be emblazoned on a line of Simone Francis merch, custom fragrance, or even as risque range of high-end lingerie--just a thought). In "Painted Stripes," which is my favorite series to date, you delved very deeply into the interrelationship between fantasy, reality, self-discovery, the forbidden, and the secret, among other themes, among which was a confrontation with one's true sexuality, one's true nature, the abandonment of repression in favor of agency and personal autonomy--the difficulty one experiences by keeping a lid on who you really are, and the problems repression causes.
I sense you're up to something with "At the Edge of Dreams." This was a very rich, very explicit Prologue. Kate's got a very sensual dream life--being sexually fulfilled by these powerful beings--no orifice left unused, even her hands employed in pleasure--then the eerie dream of submission and bondage to this "shadow man with substance." You've left a lot open to interpretation, and rightly so. We don't know much about Kate, other than that she's a prominent, powerful businesswoman, "hiding out in Yorkshire." Why she's hiding, we don't know. Is this property hers, or something she's renting? Unknown. Judging by the intensity of her dreams, and her enjoyment of the deep depravity she's subjected to in them--plus the anonymity of her "partners," I'd venture that she's an uptight figure--very wrapped up in her work, and highly stressed. Perhaps on the verge of a crackup--maybe intimidating or distant, such that others fear her, or find her cold and unapproachable, or incapable of love. Very lonely, yet really very passionate and sensual--a woman whose lack of romance, lack of contact consumes her, but her work is so important she has to push it deep down so far to appear tough-as-nails that it can only emerge when she's asleep--fully free of inhibition, in her dreams, where the unconscious cannot be overruled, and truth is sovereign, though it's veiled under an ornately embroidered shroud of symbols. I could be wrong, but the intense eroticism of these dreams is sending me in this direction.
I'm very intrigued with this one, since you're delving into the unconscious and dreams--two realms with which I'm deeply fascinated with, along with the whole idea of the "double life." These entities also evoke some sort of preternatural entities in both appearance and behavior, which, when tossed in with the setting, lend an eerie, quasi-Gothic tint to the work. Maybe Kate is a strait-laced woman all the way, but this location is consecrated to some ancient, chthonic or gnostic power or cult, whose rituals involved ecstatic sexual rites. Perhaps the site has an influence on her, or some sort of "wee folk" are resident in the area, whose powers for good and ill are well-known to folklore.
So there's my preliminary read on "At the Edge of Dreams." I have to read your first Episode, to see where the story is headed. But I love what I see already!
Simone - wow!
I’m not sure (when I read you early episodes on Medium) whether this prologue hit my radar but I love it!
It promises much & explains nothing- just right for hooking a reader (this reader!)
You maintain the dreamy quality of the scene perfectly, and from Kate’s pleasure & eager responses to everything that happens, leave us in no doubt that she’s a sensual woman who is in touch with her sexuality & her libido.
I love the sketchy nature of her partner- is he real or conjured from her arousal? Is he benevolent or malevolent? Is she entering into a submissive contract with him or is he feeding off her energy in some way?
Of course the reader is curious about what has sparked this type of dream, and how deeply embroiled Kate will become in this plane of nebulous encounters with carnal pleasure as their focus. But I am sure I’m not the only one keen to read more.