Photo-story from Blushes 80
Julie said with a nervous little laugh, ‘I keep having this awful dream. Well it’s kind of awful.’
There, she had said it. She had kept saying to herself she would and she wouldn’t tell Paul. Now, in bed with him, she finally had, thinking and hoping that maybe this time she wouldn’t dream it once again when she got to sleep. But she immediately half regretted her decision, because it was such an embarrassing dream to tell your husband. A very sexy dream. But weren’t you supposed to confide in each other when you were married? That was what marriage was all about, or so they said.
Yes, but Paul was going to want to know why she was dreaming it. Julie knew why she was dreaming it. It was that Mr Calburn she had seen about her headaches. But she didn’t want to tell Paul that. She wished again that she hadn’t mentioned it.
Paul grunted and said, ‘What dream?’
Her nervous half laugh again. ‘Oh it’s nothing really.’ Maybe she would just go to sleep — and this time not dream it.
But now of course she had sparked Paul’s interest. They were lying on their backs and he half turned and slid his hand across her tits. ‘Come on, let’s hear it. And then I’m going to give you a long, hard fuck. That’s a sure cure for any bad dreams.’
‘Do you think?’ she asked. They were both 22 and had been married almost two years now. They had a good relationship, with regular and quite frequent sex, and no hang-ups. Not until this dream problem at least. Not until Mr Calburn. Julie hadn’t told Paul anything about Mr Calburn and the headaches.
Paul prompted her again. She was going to have to tell him.
‘Well it’s kind of really awful and I keep dreaming it. I... I am with these two blokes. Older blokes. And they’ve taken me to this really plush house which one of them has. They... they want to do it to me of course but I don’t want to let them. Anyway they won’t let me go home until I’ve taken all my clothes off. Well everything except these black stockings and a sexy little black suspender belt that I’ve got on under my dress. I can keep that on, and my high heels. But that’s all. And then they make me climb up this ladder. Up into these rafters. So that I’m standing up above their heads. Just in these stockings and high heels. And I have to stand there with my legs apart. You know, so that they can see everything.’
‘Christ! How can you think up such dreams…!’
Paul sounded annoyed. She knew she shouldn’t have told him. ‘I didn’t think it up. You can’t think up dreams. You just... get them.’ But Julie knew where the dream had come from. It was that Mr Calburn. The house with the rafters in the dream was Mr Calburn’s — and he was one of the two men.
‘Well is there any more? Or is that it and you wake up then.’
‘I’m not telling you any more. You’re angry already.’
‘No I’m not. Why should I be? I want to hear it all.’ Paul put his hand down between her legs. ‘And then I’m going to give you that really big screwing. So you won’t dream it again.’
‘Well I warn you, it gets worse. I... I’m up there and I really need to pee. Because they’ve given me all these drinks before they make me go up there. But they won’t let me come down and go to the loo unless I agree to screw them. Both of them. Well it gets really desperate. I’m just not going to be able to hold it in much longer. And the thought of it... peeing myself as I stand up there, with them both staring goggle-eyed up at me.’
‘Well at last I just have to agree. I don’t have any choice. So that’s it. I can come down and go to the loo. And then I have to let them screw me. First one and then the other. They get me lying on this little table for it. But before they screw me one of them really belts me. With this leather strap. This awful strap across my bare bum. The pain is really killing. And I get that for not agreeing to screw them in the first place.’
‘Jesus!’ Paul said. ‘Well all I can say is you must have something pretty steamy down there in your subconscious.’
‘I haven’t!’ Julie felt suddenly close to tears. She knew she shouldn’t have told him. ‘It was that...’
She stopped herself just in time. From saying ‘that Mr Calburn.’
Paul didn’t seem to notice her suddenly stopped sentence, because for one thing Julie did start crying. It was all too much. She was probably going to have the awful dream again tonight. And tomorrow night. Maybe every night for the rest of her life. That awful dream of being up there in the rafters. Having to stand with her legs apart and the two men down there looking up. Grinning, making comments. While she got more and more desperate. Until finally...
And Paul didn’t really care, he wasn’t really bothered. All he wanted her for was to screw her. Which of course was what Mr Calburn wanted. And quite probably that Dr Milding as well. Well she was going to have to see Calburn again. It was the only way out. She was sure he could do something about the dreams. Stop them if he wanted to. She would have to see him because otherwise the awful dreams just weren’t ever going to stop.
Paul eventually persuaded her. To let him have his screw. That was all he wanted. He tried to make it sound like he was going to for her of course. It would make her sleep. A nice sound sleep and she wouldn’t be dreaming. He said he was sure the dreams would stop, probably it was something she had eaten. All the time he was smooching her and rubbing her up. Her tits, the insides of her thighs. Her pussy. Wanting to get her hot for it. And of course he succeeded. Screwing at least made her forget for a while.
It was Dr Milding who had sent Julie to Mr Calburn. Her own doctor, Dr Phillips, was on holiday and her girlfriend Sophie had said try Dr Milding. Julie had been getting headaches but they hadn’t been that serious and probably they would have gone away of their own accord.
If only she had done that, just taken some aspirin, there would have been no Mr Calburn and no awful dreams.
But she had gone to Dr Milding, who had decided to take it seriously. Because there was a scrumptious-looking young blonde with a nice sexy figure. Oh yes.
‘Yes, well we’d better have a check-up Mrs Filford. Can you take your blouse off. And your bra...’ Oh yes. His hands very professionally at Julie’s lovely tits. Professionally fingering her sensitive nipples. Dr Milding was a big, heavy-set man, fiftyish. And of course he was the other man in the dreams. They were Dr Milding and Mr Calburn.
Not surprisingly perhaps, Dr Milding had not found the reason for Julie’s headaches in those large and shapely tits. With their nipples which responded to professional fingering by becoming erect and sticking blatantly out, despite her willing them not to.
‘Yes you seem to be in good shape physically,’ was Dr Milding’s verdict. ‘So it is probably psychosomatic. And I can recommend a very good man. I’ll write you a note. His name is Anthony Calburn. Mr Calburn is an excellent psychotherapist. Sometimes these little problems can be treated with hypnosis Mrs Filford. Anthony Calburn has achieved very good results in similar cases using hypnosis.’
Julie, perhaps presciently, had not liked the sound of hypnosis but Dr Milding had assured her it was nothing to worry about. And so she had reluctantly gone to Mr Calburn.
Mr Calburn had hypnotised Julie on his consulting couch. It had cured the headaches — or perhaps they had simply disappeared of their own accord. But in place of the headaches Mr Calburn had put that dream in Julie’s head. He had done it when he had her hypnotised, she was sure he had. Because that very next night she had the dream for the first time. The dream with Mr Calburn and Dr Milding in it. And the house was Mr Calburn’s new house. He had shown Julie pictures of it just before he put her under hypnosis.
Mr Calburn of course had denied it. When Julie had gone back to him three days later having had the dream on each of the preceding three nights.
He had laughed and said it was simply Julie’s subconscious. She was sexually repressed and that was why she was having sexy dreams. And the way to exorcise the dreams and release her repressions was to do what her subconscious wanted.
Which was of course to have sex with someone other than her husband. Some other man or men.
It was clear that a prime candidate for this was Mr Calburn himself. He made that quite clear. Mr Calburn was more than ready to relieve Julie of any sexual hang-ups — by fucking her. He was keen for Julie to come round to his house for a drink — and clearly the other as well. That new and splendid house in the pictures he had showed Julie. It was a lovely big house with a magnificent living room. With that high, timbered ceiling. The room which in her dream had a ladder up to those rafters. The ladder she had to climb in just her black nylons and the sexy high heels while the two men watched.
Well she was going to have to see him again. And plead with him to stop her dream. Because Julie did have the dream again. That night, after telling Paul and then the fuck which according to Paul would stop any bad dreams. Yes she dreamt it exactly as before.
She didn’t tell Paul, though, when he asked her in the morning. ‘No... I don’t think so.’
‘Well there you are,’ he said. ‘I told you so.’
Julie hadn’t told him because it was clear she was going to have to sort it out herself. And Paul knew nothing about Mr Calburn — or Dr Milding. As soon as Paul left for work she went to the phone. Julie certainly didn’t want to see Mr Calburn again but she had no choice.
‘Of course,’ he said. ‘Today?’ He could see her that afternoon. Julie shivered.
She was about to put the phone down when Mr Calburn said, ‘Tell me something about the dreams. A few details.’
‘I... I told you last time,’ she replied. ‘It’s been the same. Exactly the same.’
‘Yes... but remind me. I would like to be reminded of the details.
So Julie had to go through it again. The words came haltingly out — because she sensed he was just making her repeat it for his own pleasure. It was a demonstration that he had her in his power.
‘Thank you,’ Mr Calburn said at the end. ‘That’s very helpful. Black stockings and the black high-heeled shoes. That’s all you have on in the dream. It would be... ah... helpful if you wore them when you come to see me. Under your dress I mean. I’m sure you will have these items? And the little black suspender belt? You’ve got something like that too?’
In his consulting room Mr Calburn greeted her with a bright smile. ‘Lovely to see you again Mrs Filford. Would you like a drink.’
Julie shook her head. She was feeling awful. In particular about what she had on under her blue summer dress and light coat. Yes, the black stockings and suspender belt. She had tried to refuse to wear them but Mr Calburn had insisted it was important.
He took her coat. ‘Are you sure you won’t have a drink? It can be relaxing. Now then...’ He motioned Julie to the consulting couch.
‘Look... I just want to finish with all this. I know you did it. That hypnosis...’
‘Just keep calm,’ he interrupted her. ‘There is no reason to think that. I only tried to cure your headaches. And I believe they have ceased. Anything else... it must be in your own subconscious. As I told you last time.’
‘No...!’ Julie yelped.
‘Yes.’ Mr Calburn leant closer. ‘As I also told you last time, I believe that basically you are highly sexed. And you are not getting full satisfaction with your husband. Deep down you would like more sex. More exciting sex. The dream shows strong exhibitionist aspects. Displaying yourself above the two men in just the stockings and suspender belt. Standing with your legs apart to display your sex. Even it seems the strong desire to urinate in front of them. And then of course having intercourse with both men.’
‘No!’ she gasped. ‘I hate it. I don’t want it. It’s a nightmare.’
‘You think you hate it but that is just a disguise. Masking your real desire. Anyway what I should like is for you to act out some of the sequence. That is why I asked you to wear the dream clothing. I would like you to strip down to your stockings and suspender belt. And then stand up on the table.’
Julie’s heart missed a beat. Had she been expecting something like this? She had stopped herself from thinking why he wanted her in the dream clothes, but deep down...
‘No...!’ she yipped.
‘Yes,’ Mr Calburn said briskly. ‘I understand these things remember. You must place yourself in my hands. Come on. Get your clothes off. And then get up on the table.’
Perhaps she should have just got up and walked out. Julie desperately wanted to. But... maybe there was a chance that Mr Calburn could help her, and was prepared to. So after another hesitation she got to her feet... and started unbuttoning her dress. She slid it down and off, and then her slip. That left her in brief black knickers and bra.
‘Those things as well. I want you as in the dream. No bra. And no knickers.’
Julie forced herself to take them off. And forced herself to stand with her hands at her sides and not covering her tits and pussy. Mr Calburn came close. ‘Look at me,’ he told her.
‘No...’ She shook her head. He wanted to hypnotise her again. And then...
Mr Calburn took hold of Julie’s face, forcing her to look at him. At those scary eyes behind his glasses. She gave a little whimper. His other hand had gone to her pussy. Cupping the fur-covered mound.
‘It’s this, isn’t it Mrs Filford. It gets you all hot and bothered. You want more action down here.’
The eyes were riveted on her all the while. As his fingers worked at her pussy. Julie felt herself going all weak, out of control. With a big effort she managed to pull herself away. She was whimpering, half crying.
Mr Calburn said, ‘Get up on the table.’ He took her arm, leading her. Making her get up on the seat of the chair and then onto the table top. As she stepped up his hand went between her parted thighs from behind. Groping at her pussy again. Julie stumbled, almost falling. Mr Calburn caught her, and pushed her back. She was up on the table. Standing in her high heels. She felt sick. That awful feeling she felt in the dream.
‘Good. Now stand like they make you in the dream. With your legs apart. So that I can get a good look at your sex Mrs Filford. A good look at that nice hot pussy.’
Julie shook her head. She was half crying. Mr Calburn repeated his demand, his voice now harder. This time Julie obeyed. Opening her legs. Showing him her pussy.
‘Good. Does that feel like in the dream?’
‘I... I...’ She couldn’t find any words.
‘In a moment I’m going to try you with the other thing Mrs Filford. The strap. I’m going to have you on your back on the table. And give your bare backside a good strapping. A good, hard thrashing with the strap.’
Julie gave a whimpering cry. Her knees were all rubbery. She was going to faint. Faint and collapse down onto the floor.
But Julie didn’t faint. The feeling passed — and she was still standing up on the table, with her legs apart. Mr Calburn came closer... and slid his hand between her thighs. Stroking her pussy.
‘Does that feel nice Mrs Filford? I’m sure it does — to a highly-sexed young woman. You like it, don’t you? And you’re going to like something else in a minute. My strap. It hurts of course. It really stings. But sexy women find that arousing. Yes?’
Julie could only give a shuddering moan. Was this happening, or was she in a dream? She knew it was all really happening, it wasn’t one of those dreams this time. Or did she? She was feeling faint again. And Mr Calburn was now telling her to get down. To lie on the table now. With her legs in the air. He had the strap in his hand. A wide, heavy leather strap. He was going to use it on her upturned backside.
It had been real alright, not a dream. When Julie got back to their flat the bright-red strap marks were there across her bottom to prove it. Angry red weals that still stung as if her bottom was on fire. She would have to make sure Paul didn’t see. She shuddered at the thought, at the sheer impossibility of making up any explanation.
Afterwards, when he had finished with her, Mr Calburn said it might have done the trick. There was a good chance it had broken through to her dream level and the dreams would stop. Julie shivered. She felt utterly dead. Emotionally flattened, as if a 20-ton tank had rolled over her. But if...
No. The dream came again that night. It seemed even worse. Longer. Stronger. Julie woke up crying.
Mr Calburn called Julie the next morning, to ask what had happened. She angrily told him, stuttering her words because she found herself half crying again. Mr Calburn had done those awful things — that awful strap and all the other dreadful humiliating business — probably just for his own sensual pleasure. Maybe he had had no real expectation that it would work — he had just wanted the pleasure of doing those things to her.
Over the phone Mr Calburn’s unconcerned voice said, ‘Oh dear. Never mind, we’ll have to try something else. I think you’ll have to come round to my house Mrs Filford.’
He meant the house in her dream. That big room with the high, rafted ceiling where all the dreadful action took place. Julie felt a surge of panic. No, she couldn’t possibly go there!
Mr Calburn’s voice became harder, and it was almost as if she could see those staring eyes boring into her. ‘Yes, of course you’ll come. You want me to sort this out, don’t you? I want you there tomorrow afternoon Mrs Filford.’
She desperately wanted to say: No. I won’t come. But the words wouldn’t come out. Instead when he repeated his demand Julie heard herself say a meek ‘Yes.’
‘Good. That’s better.’ Mr Calburn’s voice was softer. ‘I feel sure we can do something. I shall want you wearing the same things of course. The black stockings and suspender belts. The black high heels.’
He rang off and Julie felt as if she was going to be sick. She couldn’t go there! Because after that dreadful ordeal yesterday at his office it seemed clear what Calburn intended. He was going to put her through the whole business. Make her re-enact the whole nightmare dream sequence. She couldn’t. She wouldn’t go. But when she told herself that, Julie could hear his voice again, see those eyes And she knew...
The rest of the day was awful. She was like a zombie, unable to think. Wandering distractedly round the flat, going back to bed to try to sleep but getting up again because she couldn’t. After lunch (though she couldn’t eat any lunch) she went out, to take the bus into the shopping area. And there as Julie walked aimlessly a man tried to pick her up. An older man in a business suit. She didn’t respond — but equally she felt too zombie-like to tell him she wasn’t interested. He wanted to buy her a drink... and although she didn’t say yes Julie somehow found herself going with the man.
He took her to a pub and bought her something, although she said she didn’t want it. She didn’t drink it, probably if she did she would be sick. ‘Are you feeling alright?’ the man, who said his name was Jim, asked. She said Yes, and made herself take a little sip. He put his hand on her knee and said, ‘You’re really lovely. Your husband’s a lucky man.’ Because of course he had seen her wedding ring. Then the hand slid up her leg. ‘Please don’t,’ she said, but there was that sense of having no strength or will power to stop him.
He suggested going for a drive. Julie shook her head. But once again she had that zombie feeling of helplessness. Nothing mattered — only tomorrow and what was going to happen then. And somehow she was shortly going with him to his car. He took her out in the country. A secluded lovers-lane place. A place where you would take a married woman, someone else’s wife, when you want to fuck her. He did it on a blanket a little distance from the parked car. ‘You’re really lovely,’ he breathed, on top of her and rhythmically fucking her. ‘A really lovely girl.’
At least she had the sense to get him to drop her in town, not take her home as he wanted to. Back at the flat Julie had a bath... and started to cry.
She said nothing to Paul of course. Nothing of the dreadful thing she had done that afternoon and nothing of Mr Calburn. She badly wanted to tell him about Mr Calburn: if she did of course then she wouldn’t go tomorrow. Julie desperately wanted to tell Paul when they were in bed — but she couldn’t. She began silently weeping. Paul asked her what was the matter. ‘Nothing,’ she blubbed.
He asked again but didn’t press her. Probably deciding it was impossible to understand the strange emotional ways of women. And anyway what a woman who was feeling upset for no reason needed from her husband was a good fuck. Julie didn’t want it, especially after that dreadful business in the afternoon — but Paul was insistent. He knew what she needed. And was going to do it.
They were both there when she arrived at Mr Calburn’s house. He opened the door and led her through into the big living room with the rafters — and there was Dr Milding. The ladder was there as in her dream and the little table — and seated at the table was Dr Milding. Smiling he got to his feet. Yes Mr Calburn and Dr Milding just as in her dream. Julie had half suspected that the doctor might be here but had vigorously dismissed the thought from her mind.
‘No!’ she automatically yelped.
Mr Calburn smiled. ‘Don’t be silly my dear. Dr Milding is here to help. He has very kindly given up his afternoon to assist you. Now would you like something to drink? Well, you’ll have to have something. As in the dream. We want to have that sensation of a painfully full bladder. So something to drink... and of course take your clothes off. Like before. Strip down to your nylons and suspender belt. Yes we are really going to act it out.’
Julie yelped another panicky protest. Mr Calburn sharply told her to do as she was told. Otherwise the two of them would do it for her. They would forcibly take her clothes off. Also forcibly make her drink. Was that what she wanted?
Feeling sick Julie accepted the offered glass of wine and gulped a mouthful. And then started taking her things off.
They made her drink two glasses of white wine plus several glasses of orange juice. Mr Calburn said they didn’t want her drinking only wine and getting drunk. Julie needed to be wide awake.
‘Do you think she should have the strap first of all?’ Dr Milding asked pleasantly. ‘I’m not sure of the sequence of events in the dream Julie. But probably it isn’t important. As long as we get it all in.’
‘No!’ she squealed again. Julie had everything off now, stripped down to the required items. Standing by the table—on which in the dream she had been turned upside-down and viciously belted with the strap. And then screwed by each man in turn. ‘No! Please... I don’t want ...’
‘Up the ladder first,’ Mr Calburn said. His hand took hold of Julie’s bare pussy. ‘Any feeling of discomfort yet my dear? Any urgent need to visit the bathroom?’
‘I should give her a taste of the strap first,’ Dr Milding repeated. ‘A hot, stinging bottom can get things going in that regard I imagine. Our lovely Julie may be hopping up and down before she even gets up the ladder.’
Julie gave a squeal of panic. The mere thought of that strap was giving her the sensation that she needed to relieve herself. There followed another desperate squeal as Mr Calburn agreed.
‘Yes maybe you’re right Harold. OK. Bend over the table Julie. We’ll have you like that for starters. We’ll have that other position later. The upside-down one on the table showing off your pussy.’
She yelped again. Mr Calburn now had the leather strap in his hand and brought it slicing in across the backs of her thighs.
‘Come on Julie. Get in position. We mustn’t mess about.’
They got her bending over the table in a spread-legged, knees straight stance. Seconds later the strap whipped in across her thrust-out bare bottom. Julie let out a gasping yell.
‘I don’t think she likes it Anthony,’ Dr Milding said.
The pain was desperate. Agonising. And it was only the first. The hot pain intensified as the strap rose and fell in a steady, spaced-out cadence. There was the actual red-hot pain from the explosive impact on Julie’s poor bottom — and also the other. Because Dr Milding had been right. It was causing an urgent need to go to the loo.
‘I... I need to g... go,’ Julie yipped when at last Mr Calburn stopped. ‘To the b…b...bathroom.’ Speaking through clenched teeth and clutching her throbbing rear. ‘Please...’
‘No. I think we must follow the routine,’ Mr Calburn said. ‘You go up the ladder next. That’s the dream isn’t it? Up there until you’re feeling really desperate. And then after you agree to an act of sexual intercourse with each of us you can come down and go to the loo. After that the strap again up on the table and then Harold Milding and I each have our very satisfying screw. Isn’t that it?’
‘It’s only for the therapy of course,’ Dr Milding put in. ‘I mean we may enjoy having intercourse with you. Well I’m sure we will, you’re such a lovely girl. But that is purely incidental. We will be merely acting out the dream for your benefit.’
Julie gave another shuddering yelp. The awfulness of what they were saying was now as nothing compared to her need to rush to the bathroom. Her desperate need to pee. All that drink and then that vicious strapping...
Mr Calburn came up behind her and reached round to cup Julie’s big trembling boobs. ‘You must climb up to the rafters first,’ he said, squeezing them. ‘You needn’t stay up there long, not if you’re getting too desperate.’ One hand reached down and grabbed her pussy. ‘But we must go through the sequence.’
He let go of her. Julie was making desperate moaning sounds. She hesitated for a moment and then made a frantic dash for the ladder. With more shuddery moans she began awkwardly climbing as best she could in the high heels.
‘Good girl,’ Mr Calburn said. From behind and below he reached up between her frantic legs to grope her pussy.
‘I’m coming down now!’ she called as soon as she reached the top. ‘Oooooohhh!’
‘Get right into the rafters first,’ Mr Calburn said. ‘And of course you have to agree to what we want when you come down. Just like the dream.’
Julie couldn’t worry about that. Couldn’t think about it. There was only one thought in her head. She struggled out into the rafters, hanging on desperately to the uprights. Just a couple of moments... and she would be down there. The bathroom.
‘Stand up there. Still. With your legs apart...’
‘No! I can’t! I can’t h...hold it...’
‘Just a little while. Two minutes. I’ll time you.’
Two minutes was too long. Two minutes plus the time it took to clamber down again. Julie crying tears of desperation and embarrassment. It was too long and she couldn’t hold it.
‘Don’t worry,’ Mr Calburn said as she rushed out to the bathroom. ‘My lady who comes to clean, she’ll see to it.’
There was the rest afterwards of course. On the table for the strap again. On her back with her legs up, Dr Milding holding them and Mr Calburn whipping the heavy leather down onto her upturned buttocks. And then the other. Mr Calburn and then Dr Milding. Screwing her.
‘It’s therapy remember,’ Dr Milding said. As he went vigorously at it, with Julie on her back on the table with legs spread.
Yes all as in the dream. But this time really happening.
And after that? Well it seemed to work. Because that night for the first time since it all began Julie didn’t dream the dream. Or the next or the next night. The dream did seem to be exorcised.
But that wasn’t the whole story of course. Because Julie had to make more visits to Mr Calburn’s. When the events were repeated again in real life.
‘We need to make quite sure,’ he told her.
And Julie couldn’t refuse because they’d taken photographs. Of just about everything. ‘For the record.’ Mr Calburn said. ‘For a scientific record.’ And naturally the thought of that scientific record being shown to Paul... or anyone...