My Bad (Patreon)

I’m completely drained. I didn’t have much strength left to begin with, after such a night, but now I couldn’t even open the door without using my hands. I look at his features. It’s the boy of my dreams. Slightly Persian or Mediterranean features, handsome but unusual face, gorgeous body. Smooth skin, cut enough to show a proper six pack, but hiding the details of the fascia. It’s more of a broad brush body with bubble butt and swelling arms. I imagine him covered in honey.

In my dream he had been covered in honey. It was a jumbled blur of position after position after position of sex. Me topping him, he topping me, anatomically improbable things, you name it. When I woke up, at first I didn’t realize anything was wrong when I saw him by my side. Just a happy feeling. Then, like a gut punch I realize the cute history major from the bar last night is no longer with me. With what little I have left I hastily do what I can to paper over it. It’s feeble, crude and gradual, but at least he will be happy and I will be safe.

I barely have time to finish, if you could use that word on such shoddy work, when he is stirring, waking up. I quickly jump out of bed, getting some distance in case he’ll get violent. I’m in no position to defend myself, and if my dream is any guidance he’s wicked strong. He opens his eyes and sees himself before he sees me.

- I’m really sorry. This is all my fault.
- *cough* wh… what happened? I’m…

He is feeling his abs with his hand. He is much calmer than what I had feared, slowly examining his new body. He appears to be more amazed than scared, or angry. Did I go overboard trying to protect myself?

- You did this to me? Why did… How?
- I didn’t mean to! I’m so sorry. Sometimes when I get really excited my magic act on its own. I had the most amazing dream after we had both fallen asleep, and I must have accidentally made you into my… eh.. dream.
- Wow. That’s.. wow. Magic? What else can you… You can turn me back, right?
- Right now I can’t do anything. It took almost all I got to turn you into.. that.
- Oh..
- You don’t seem very upset about it.
- Would it make a difference? At least I’m someone’s dream.

Damn it, I should have waited. This makes me look cruel, if only for a moment. I take a peek at the clock. 10 more seconds, tops.

- That makes the next part feel a bit… unfair.
- What next paaaaa.. Hnnnnng.
- The part were you get debilitatingly horny.
- Fuuuu! this was…. also… dream?

“Yes”, I lied to him, as the pleasure ate away his memories. In ideal circumstances, well rested, full of energy, plenty of time and with no panic pushing me I would have sealed away his soul, bound him from speaking the truth, or any other of a number of options. Instead he is one orgasm away from not even remembering his own name. I can give him back that at least, when I finally attempt to rebuild him, but we are at least an equinox away from that.

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