Bad Dreams (Adult content)


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  1. #1

    Bad Dreams (Adult content)

    This is based on a conversation I had with someone. They also said they met someone else who had a similar experience, but seemed to go in a bad direction regarding this.
    It's in fiction because I have made up the details. But the general premise of the story is not fiction.

    I know it still needs some work, but wanted to post it.

    BAD DREAMS

    Karen lays back, her lover pushing her on to the bed. She does not recognize his face. She doesn’t care. Goosebumps, partly from the cold breeze coming through the slightly open window, partly from anticipation, cover her body. His masculine form leans over her, his face lost in shadow. She desperately wants him to kiss her, but he keeps above her, positioning himself at her opening. She likes more foreplay, but can’t resist him as he pushes inside her gently.

    She moans as he keeps pushing, till he’s in all the way. She wants to wrap herself around him, squeezing him, digging her nails in to his broad back, ecstatic as he fills her up completely. Another moan escapes her moist lips as he grabs and squeezes her left breast, pinching her nipple. Karen growls seductively as he begins moving in and out of her, slowly building up speed. The sensation makes her weak, her body numb from pleasure. She can’t remember the last time she’s been with a man. She doesn’t care it’s a dream. He starts to pick up speed.

    Karen senses something, something out of place. There’s a wrongness to this man. Confirming her feelings, the pleasure she’s enveloped in turns to pain. It hasn’t been that long, but Karen knows it shouldn’t feel like this. She tries to sit up, to push him off, but his large, warm hands hold her down. Looking at him, his face still hidden in shadow. His eyes are alight, almost glowing. Something in those glowing orbs makes her heart skip a beat, in terror, rather than pleasure. She struggles, twisting left and right, desperately trying get him off her. Frantically, she hammers his chest, managing to twist his arm around. Karen, realizing he is close to finishing, her mind and body filling with dread, knowing she mustn’t let him finish. Powered by fear, she pushes him off with an almighty shove, forcing him out of her. Using his full body weight, he moves over back her, pinning her down again. Somehow, he ties her hands to the bed-head. Karen closes her legs tightly, to stop him from entering her again. He forces her legs open, his fingers digging in to her muscles painfully. He pushes back in, thrusting into her furiously. His hands move to her shoulders to hold her down until he’s done. It burns now, her entire body on fire. Karen continues to struggle, a small cry of joy as her hands come free. She catches him by surprise as he freezes. She pushes him off as he climaxes. His eyes glow brightly in anger as he slaps her face.

    Karen wakes up…she thinks, he’s still there. She looks at him, noticing he’s changed. His eyes glow red, not white, in the darkness. His ears are tall and pointed, his nose a sharp fleshy hook, almost a beak. She can feel his powerful hands on her thighs, his fingers almost piercing the flesh. There’s a warm fluid on her legs and stomach. The thing between his legs, that had given her so much pleasure, if only briefly, was not the pleasure- giver it had been in her dream, but something sharp and dangerous, like a harpoon. She could see liquid still oozing from the tip. He squeezes her legs painfully, hissing an inhuman screech, then disappears. It’s some time before she can fall back to sleep. Karen jerked awake, waving her arms in front of her defensively. She looks around, her face a mixture of confusion and fear, the remnants of her double dream floating at the surface of her mind. She throws the cover off, inspecting the bed. She smiles, seeing there’s no mess on the bed, or on her body.
    “What a dream!” she thinks as she heads for a long, hot, shower. The need to cleanse herself of something, a stain she can’t define, is overpowering.

    She dries off, throws on a robe and makes herself some breakfast, trying to recall everything about her strange dream. The exact details are elusive, like smoke. The harder she thinks about it, the more trouble she has trying to grasp the details.

    Dressing in front of the full-length mirror in her room, she notices a rash on her face. Stepping closer to the mirror, she is rattled when she realizes the rash looks a lot like a hand print. Hesitantly, she checks inside her thighs. Karen’s knees go weak when she finds two finger-sized bruises, the memory of the man, or thing, grabbing her legs painfully. She steadies herself, trying to rationalise the marks.

    The word she wants is on the tip of her tongue, the memory of religious phenomenon show clambering for space beside the threads of last night’s dream. She watched it a few months ago, but the word they used still escapes her. Stig-something. Stigma, or stigmata, or something like that. Imaginary traumatic experiences, or dreams, could trigger real wounds. Something like that. Her dream was incredibly traumatic alright! She needed a man, a real man, quickly.

    Three weeks later, with the whole episode just another forgotten bad dream, Karen is waiting in the doctor’s office. Every morning for the past week, she'd woken up nauseated. She'd already thrown up twice this morning before she came. There’d been a stomach bug going around at work. Karen was never very good at being sick, so she hoped it wasn’t the virus her workmates were suffering from. Some were off work for a week or more.

    She was back here today for the results of the blood test from yesterday. The point on her arm where the needle had withdrawn her blood ached, causing her to rub the spot. The doctor appears, signaling to her to follow. Nervously, Karen gets up and follows the doctor into her office, closing the door behind her.
    “Is it bad Doc?” Karen asks, her hands a little shaky. The doctor smiles, holding up the piece of paper with the blood test results. Karen’s vision fades as she faints, barely able to hear the doctor say “Congratulations, you’re going to be a mom!”
    Last edited by MadMickyG; May 28th, 2017 at 02:18 AM.
    If we surround ourselves with 'yes' people, how can we grow.

  2. #2
    You've taken an extremely emotional moment and reduced it to a discussion of plumbing by presenting a chronicle of events instead of a story—a guaranteed rejection because a narrator's voice is dispassionate, and informs, when a reader is seeking entertainment. You also committed the offense that is pretty much a guaranteed rejection: opening with a dream without telling the reader that it is till they've invested time in what isn't real.

    A bit of time spent digging into the writing techniques of fiction would do wonders.

  3. #3
    "Something, something" doesn't do it for me. Just say it the first time instead of stuttering.

    I don't know how you manage to twist someone's arm around by hammering their chest. Mine don't work that way.

    This is a dream sequence? ...I guess that explains how she can shove him off even though he's suddenly strong enough to force her back onto the bed and tie her down just afterward.

    Now her hands "come free" as if they were on timers or something. I guess I just find the dream sequence thing annoying to a degree.

    Next she's awake and he's still here? So confused.

    No one on God's green earth smiles right after a nightmare. That requires too much distance from the experience--an experience that has filled your veins with adrenaline and triggered a violent (literally) response from every fiber of your being.

    Talking about a TV show in writing like this is a surefire way to make your audience lost. It just doesn't translate. No one has seen the same episode and they're not about to go looking, you know? Just... I dunno. Throw in whatever it is you want to throw in. No need to put a lampshade on it like this.

    Also, "stigmata" are marks left by nails, etc. I've never heard anyone use them to talk about a smack in the face or bruises on thighs. I'm guessing you brought up religion and stigmata because this is meant to evoke a sense of the demonic regarding her recent encounter, but I'd say it was ineffective, particularly as everyone reading your story already assumed that this was some kind of monster instead of a dream.

    I said this in my last review, but I think what's missing here is humanity--a reason that these characters (there are three here, right?) do *any* of the things they do. Decide who you're dealing with and go from there.
    Don't take my advice personally. Also don't expect me to provide disclaimers like, "Just my opinion, but..." You should know that by now.

  4. #4
    Tad bit dry on the elements. It reads very mechanically, and lacks that bit of life
    in the overall characters. We don't get to know the character, nor do we really
    have much understanding as to why she is so flat. I feel if you spent some time
    working on this you could angle it into a story, and not a few series of rather short
    and blunt events. Take some time to flesh out the details and give this poor thing
    some vivacity. Treat your characters as if they are really there, and you might
    find that they are much more pleasing to read about.
    Good Luck.

  5. #5
    Karen senses something, something out of place. There’s a wrongness to this man. Confirming her feelings, the pleasure she’s enveloped in turns to pain. It hasn’t been that long, but Karen knows it shouldn’t feel like this.

    I'd write this like so: There's a wrongness to this man. Something is out of place. Pleasure has become pain. He's never made me feel that before.

    This is mainly narration, it's not bad but there should be some personal elements(ie: first person) Dream scenes are not the best to use, not that I feel they're bad. but they're very hard to pull off. I do like the story you've presented. Keep at it, the seed is there. Just needs more nurturing.
    "Illegitimi non carborundum " Vinegar' Joe Stilwell

    "Faith is taking the first step, even when you don't see the whole staircase." Martin Luther King Jr.

    What you learn in life is important, those you help learn, are more important.

    "They can because they think they can."
    ​Virgil

    "Wise men speak because they have something to say; Fools will speak to say something." Plato

    "The only difference between reality and fiction is that fiction needs to be credible."
    ​ Mark Twain

    "To those of you who received honors, awards and distinctions, I say well done. And to the C students, I say you, too, can be president of the United States." George W. Bush



  6. #6
    Notes below in red.

    Quote Originally Posted by MadMickyG View Post
    This is based on a conversation I had with someone. They also said they met someone else who had a similar experience, but seemed to go in a bad direction regarding this.
    It's in fiction because I have made up the details. But the general premise of the story is not fiction.

    I know it still needs some work, but wanted to post it.

    BAD DREAMS

    Karen lays back, her lover pushing her on to the bed. She does not recognize his face. She doesn’t care. Goosebumps, partly from the cold breeze coming through the slightly open window, partly from anticipation, cover her body. His masculine form leans over her, his face lost in shadow. She desperately wants him to kiss her, but he keeps above her, positioning himself at her opening. She likes more foreplay, but can’t resist him as he pushes inside her gently. I don't mind sex scenes (not at all, hwahah) but I didn't find myself immediately absorbed here. In part its because its written extremely generically. I would almost dispense with the first line "Karen lays back" and dive straight in with "She does not recognize his face. She does not care". Not only is this a more powerful line, but it at least dispenses with the hackneyed "push on to the bed" thing. The porn motif is further exacerbated by use of phrases like 'his masculine form' and 'foreplay'. What do these mean? I mean, I know what foreplay is (lol) but it isn't a sexy word and does not conjure a specific image. Masculine form, what is that? Muscles? Say muscles if its muscles.

    She moans as he keeps pushing, till he’s in all the way. She wants to wrap herself around him, squeezing him, digging her nails in to his broad back, ecstatic as he fills her up completely. Another moan escapes her moist lips as he grabs and squeezes her left breast, pinching her nipple. Karen growls seductively as he begins moving in and out of her, slowly building up speed. The sensation makes her weak, her body numb from pleasure. She can’t remember the last time she’s been with a man. She doesn’t care it’s a dream. He starts to pick up speed.

    Same deal as far as the porno-speak. Again, if you're going to write sex then write REAL SEX. Make it graphic. Make it gross if it needs to be. Make it different. Use specific words and images. I don't want to break forum rules here, but using ones own experiences may well help...if you know what I mean.


    Karen senses something, something out of place. There’s a wrongness to this man. Confirming her feelings, the pleasure she’s enveloped in turns to pain. It hasn’t been that long, but Karen knows it shouldn’t feel like this. She tries to sit up, to push him off, but his large, warm hands hold her down. Looking at him, his face still hidden in shadow. His eyes are alight, almost glowing. Something in those glowing orbs makes her heart skip a beat, in terror, rather than pleasure. She struggles, twisting left and right, desperately trying get him off her. Frantically, she hammers his chest, managing to twist his arm around. Karen, realizing he is close to finishing, her mind and body filling with dread, knowing she mustn’t let him finish. Powered by fear, she pushes him off with an almighty shove, forcing him out of her. Using his full body weight, he moves over back her, pinning her down again. Somehow, he ties her hands to the bed-head. Karen closes her legs tightly, to stop him from entering her again. He forces her legs open, his fingers digging in to her muscles painfully. He pushes back in, thrusting into her furiously. His hands move to her shoulders to hold her down until he’s done. It burns now, her entire body on fire. Karen continues to struggle, a small cry of joy as her hands come free. She catches him by surprise as he freezes. She pushes him off as he climaxes. His eyes glow brightly in anger as he slaps her face.

    A lot happens in this paragraph, which is good, but I almost feel this should be a little bit longer. I don't want any more to actually happen, though. There's practically a whole short story in this one paragraph. What I really want is for each key moment - the moment Karen realizes something is weird, the moment she sees his face, the moment the sex turns into a fight for survival, the 'climax' to be unpacked with a little analysis. I recognize this would all happening quite quickly. That is where creative license comes in. Don't drag it out, but take a moment to really expose how Karen feels and what things look like.

    Karen wakes up…she thinks, he’s still there. She looks at him, noticing he’s changed. His eyes glow red, not white, in the darkness. His ears are tall and pointed, his nose a sharp fleshy hook, almost a beak. She can feel his powerful hands on her thighs, his fingers almost piercing the flesh. There’s a warm fluid on her legs and stomach. The thing between his legs, that had given her so much pleasure, if only briefly, was not the pleasure- giver it had been in her dream, but something sharp and dangerous, like a harpoon. She could see liquid still oozing from the tip. He squeezes her legs painfully, hissing an inhuman screech, then disappears. It’s some time before she can fall back to sleep. Karen jerked awake, waving her arms in front of her defensively. She looks around, her face a mixture of confusion and fear, the remnants of her double dream floating at the surface of her mind. She throws the cover off, inspecting the bed. She smiles, seeing there’s no mess on the bed, or on her body.
    “What a dream!” she thinks as she heads for a long, hot, shower. The need to cleanse herself of something, a stain she can’t define, is overpowering.

    Same as in above comment. I disagree with the comment that nobody smiles after a nightmare. They might, in relief that it is just a nightmare.

    She dries off, throws on a robe and makes herself some breakfast, trying to recall everything about her strange dream. The exact details are elusive, like smoke. The harder she thinks about it, the more trouble she has trying to grasp the details.

    Give me a little more. Tell me what she does remember and how it impacts her.


    Dressing in front of the full-length mirror in her room, she notices a rash on her face. Stepping closer to the mirror, she is rattled when she realizes the rash looks a lot like a hand print. Hesitantly, she checks inside her thighs. Karen’s knees go weak when she finds two finger-sized bruises, the memory of the man, or thing, grabbing her legs painfully. She steadies herself, trying to rationalise the marks.

    This for me is one of the better paragraphs. Again, I want to be allowed into her thought process a little more intimately than "she is rattled when she realizes" allows.

    The word she wants is on the tip of her tongue, the memory of religious phenomenon show clambering for space beside the threads of last night’s dream. She watched it a few months ago, but the word they used still escapes her. Stig-something. Stigma, or stigmata, or something like that. Imaginary traumatic experiences, or dreams, could trigger real wounds. Something like that. Her dream was incredibly traumatic alright! She needed a man, a real man, quickly.

    I'm a little confused. I think you know what you want to say but it isn't translating. Firstly, what the bloody hell does stigmata possibly have with what she just experienced? Stigmata is the religious notion that the wounds of Jesus could be replicated on a living human through supernatural forces. As far as I know it has nothing to do with dreams. As far as the thought process that goes from "stigmata" to "I need a real man", that makes no sense to me I'm afraid.

    Three weeks later, with the whole episode just another forgotten bad dream, Karen is waiting in the doctor’s office. Every morning for the past week, she'd woken up nauseated. She'd already thrown up twice this morning before she came. There’d been a stomach bug going around at work. Karen was never very good at being sick, so she hoped it wasn’t the virus her workmates were suffering from. Some were off work for a week or more.

    Ah...think I know where this is going...

    She was back here today for the results of the blood test from yesterday. The point on her arm where the needle had withdrawn her blood ached, causing her to rub the spot. The doctor appears, signaling to her to follow. Nervously, Karen gets up and follows the doctor into her office, closing the door behind her.
    “Is it bad Doc?” Karen asks, her hands a little shaky. The doctor smiles, holding up the piece of paper with the blood test results. Karen’s vision fades as she faints, barely able to hear the doctor say “Congratulations, you’re going to be a mom!
    I don't mind the Satan baby thing, though as a story this sounds WAY too close to Rosemary's Baby, Devil's Due and myriad others. The thing is, because of all the issues mentioned above I do not feel the attachment I need to feel to Karen to get an emotive response from the news she has been impregnated by a demon. I feel some of the comments have been harsh but I do agree that the main problem is that this does not feel like a fully fleshed out (pun intended) story. It feels like a quick bit of erotica with a quick bit of demon.

    There's a couple of ways you can go with this, I think. Number one, you can focus completely on the sexual aspect. Though I find it generic you're actually not bad at a rudimentary sex scene (seen much, much worse) and with a little bit more, uh, sexy you could probably write some decent erotica...which there is always a small but fierce market for. Honestly I would have rather you use the word count displayed here to just fill out the sex dream details than rush through it and stick a demon shaped cherry on top.

    If your intent is this absolutely must be fiction you are going to need to expand the narrative. I know nothing about this character other than her name is Karen. I get no sense of how old she is, what she looks like, or anything about her personality. Note this DOES NOT mean I need an essay. I just need some hints to form the picture. All I get in this is she is a girl who has some sex and then wakes up and gets pregnant with her demonic one night stand. You don't tell me, for instance, who this guy was she initially thought it was - a boyfriend, a husband, the mailman? If I knew even just that information that would probably tell me something about her. Beyond that the only thing I learn is that she watched a stigmata tv show. Which is possibly insightful information but in this case it (1) Isn't enough and (2) Doesn't make sense.

  7. #7
    Like the others have said, the story is too mechanical. Also since the antagonist seems to be a hawk-like chimera, I feel if you had given him talons that you could have woven in more fear and possibly gore. You could have gone more into how they pierce into flesh destroying tendons and muscle as blood leaks from the wound on her leg. Ahaha, sorry if this isn't particularly helpful. My thoughts are kinda jumbled.

  8. #8
    Thanks for all the comments. I know I need to keep working, which is why I've been away. Working on stories, and reading stuff on the internet about writing.

    Just to point out, this may be a work of fiction, but the base of the story (including the evil part) is based on an actual conversation I had with someone I knew.
    And they themselves met someone else who went rhough the same experience, but had a very dark reaction.
    If we surround ourselves with 'yes' people, how can we grow.

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