The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

In May, 2010, Thilthil hosted the monthly contest over at the MC Forum. His request was simple: give the story a theme that involved activities done while sleeping. This was my entry into that contest. It’s a very adult-natured work as it is, so if you found this website looking for information on sleep disorders but aren’t really interested in an adult story like this, you might want to go back to the search engine of your choice and try again. As usual, this is a work of fiction, so any similarity to actual people or events is completely coincidental. And I’m pretty sure the technology demonstrated in this story doesn’t really exist, so if you have any problems like the main character, don’t let this story alter your desire to have them rectified. This story is my own work, so please don’t post this on other websites without my permission. I welcome all commentary and criticism. My e-mail address is .

To Sleep Perchance to Cream

by Mudak

Chapter 1

“You look horrible!”

Beverly chuckled upon hearing Janie say those words. She thought about saying something witty in response to this comment, but the most she could come up with was, “Yeah, I know.”

Janie cracked a slight smile. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”

“No. You’re right.” Beverly took a sip from her coffee. “I certainly feel horrible.”

“Still not sleeping, huh?”

“Nope.” Beverly thought about how her sleepless nights also hurt her ability to keep up a conversation.

Janie leaned over the cubicle wall that separated their desks and whispered, “How long’s it been now?”

“Ya know, I got no sense of time anymore. Two weeks? A month? Longer? It feels like forever.”

“Maybe you should see a doctor.”

“I did. Two or three days ago. He prescribed me something that was supposed to help me relax. All it did was give me a headache. So I was up late last night, couldn’t sleep, put on the TV and started channel surfing. Ended up watching kids shows in Spanish. Did you know that the Spanish word for ‘smurf’ is ‘pitufo’?”

Janie chuckled and said, “Um... No.”

Beverly yawned and added, “Yup. And the Spanish word for ‘absosmurfly’ would be ‘absopitufamente’.”

Janie let the conversation come to a stop before she added, “Ya know... My brother was having trouble sleeping not long ago, and he... well, he found out about some clinic that has some way of helping people get a good night’s sleep. Do, uh... Do you want me to call him and find out their number?”

Beverly rubbed her eyes. “I, uh... Sure. Why not?”

Janie raised her index finger as she sat back down in her own seat, put her headset on, and pressed a few buttons on her telephone.

Beverly tried to listen to what Janie was saying on the phone, but her voice turned into a monotonous droning. As a distraction, Beverly squinted at her computer monitor to read an e-mail from her boss, groaning silently. Rubbing her temples, she shook her head and decided that her boss could wait.

She leaned back in her chair, ignoring the squeaking noise that it emitted. She squinted at the fluorescent lights above her.

Just as Beverly began to comfortable in her chair, Janie stood up. With a slapping noise, Janie placed a sticky note over Beverly’s monitor. “Call them!”

“Wh—what?”

“The sleep clinic my brother goes to. He can’t say enough good things about this place. Call them and set up an appointment.”

Beverly tried to think of an objection. How had Janie’s brother heard about this place? How bad was his insomnia? Was it anything like what she was dealing with? What do they do at this sleep clinic that her doctor couldn’t help with? Beverly scowled but said nothing of her reservations.

Janie sensed Beverly’s hesitation. “Look. My brother’s wife complained about his snoring. She threatened to kick him out and his boss recommended this place. He went to the clinic and they said he had sleep apnea. They did something and he’s sleeping fine now. I don’t quite understand what they do there, but... Just call them!”

Feeling the pressure of her neighbor’s gaze, Beverly sighed and picked up her own headset. “All right. I’ll... I’ll call.”

Beverly dialed the number and flinched as the sound of the phone ringing through her headset. After a couple of rings, a woman’s voice spoke, “Thank you for calling the Somnos Sleep Clinic. How may I help you?”

“Yeah, um... I... I’ve been having trouble sleeping for a while now and...”

“Are you saying you have insomnia?”

“Yes. I haven’t slept in I don’t know how long. A friend of mine...”

“How soon would you like to come in?”

“Um...”

“I’m sorry. I guess I need to explain how we work, don’t I?”

“Um... I guess.”

“Our founder, Conor Dunleavy, was a graduate student when he discovered an electronic means of performing a neural stimulation that is an effective cure for just about every sleep disorder out there.”

“Um... Neural stimulation?”

“Sorry. It’s kind of complicated to explain, but we use radio waves to help you fall asleep and then keep the sleep steady, consistent, and restful for the entire night.”

Beverly still didn’t understand this explanation, but she figured this was just her lack of sleep that kept her from truly grasping it. “Oh, um. All right, I guess.”

“You said you’re suffering from insomnia? Could you please describe what happens when you try to fall asleep?”

“Um. Well, I go to bed. Usually between about 10 and 11 o’clock at night. I usually just lie there for what feels like forever. Maybe I’ll shift my position to get more comfortable, but it’s always the same thing. By midnight or 1 am, I realize I’m nowhere near ready to fall asleep, so I get up and try to do something to help me get some sleep. I’ll usually either surf the net or see what’s on late night TV. Either way, I don’t get any sleep and then it’s time to go to work and, well...”

“I completely understand. If I may say so, insomnia is Dr. Dunleavy’s specialty. Let me see when we have open. Give me a sec...”

Beverly glanced up at Janie and mouthed the words, “They want to make an appointment.”

Janie smiled broadly and gave Beverly a “thumbs up” sign.

The receptionist came back on the phone and said, “All right! We’ve got—”

“Wait a sec,” Beverly interrupted. “I, uh... I don’t have a whole lot of money or anything.”

“That’s not something to worry about. Your first appointment is completely free of charge. And we accept most major insurance plans. The only reason not to come is because you don’t want to improve your sleep patterns. You do want to get a good night’s sleep, don’t you?”

“Well, of course I do. It’s just—”

“Then it’s settled. We have an opening tomorrow night. Can you come in?”

“Um. I...” Beverly glanced over at Janie, who was nodding vigorously. “I, uh... I need to know how to get there.”

“That’s not a problem. Just give me your e-mail address and I’ll send you a confirmation of your appointment and directions to our office. All we ask of you is that you bring a bag with pajamas and your usual nighttime toiletries. And that you arrive no later than 8:30 pm.”

“What time would I get out the following morning?”

“About eight.”

Beverly paused for a minute. “I... I guess that’ll be all right.”

“Great! Let me just take your information down and I’ll email you the confirmation.”

Beverly proceeded to answer questions about her full name, address, age, and history of sleep disorders.

Janie looked up at the sound of Beverly hanging up the phone. “Well?”

“I’ve got an appointment tomorrow night.”

“Awesome!”

“Well, we’ll see what happens.”

Chapter 2

The following night, Beverly drove to the Somnos Sleep Clinic. The building reminded her a little bit of the office where she worked as an intern in college. She looked up at the water tower that rose above the parking lot and chuckled. “Here’s hoping we don’t get an earthquake,” she said to her reflection in her rear view mirror as she parked her car.

Retrieving her overnight bag from the trunk of her car, she slowly walked into the building. She made a note of the tasteful, yet somewhat boring decorations as she strode up to the receptionist’s window. “You must be Beverly,” the receptionist said the moment Beverly was close enough to hear.

“Um, yes.”

“I spoke with you yesterday. It’s so good to see you could make it. If you could just fill these out, we’ll be with you in a moment.”

The receptionist slid a clipboard with a pen and a couple of forms underneath the window. Beverly took the papers and the clipboard over to a seat in the corner of the waiting room and began to complete the paperwork.

The forms started out somewhat innocuous: it asked for her name, address, and insurance information. From there, it started asking about medical history, past surgeries and extended-duration hospitalizations.

She paused to recall the timing of when she had had her wisdom teeth extracted and, during that pause, a woman wearing sunglasses and an overcoat, strode into the clinic, an overnight bag swinging from her shoulder.

The receptionist cheerfully said, “It’s good to see you back here, Melissa.”

“It’s good to be back. I’m not running late, am I?”

“Not at all. Just go right back. You’ll be in room number 3 tonight.”

“Thank you.”

Melissa walked through a door in the back of the waiting room.

Beverly mused that, if Melissa was any indication, then the enthusiasm of the patients was a plus for this clinic. She was seventeen when her wisdom teeth were removed and she figured that would be good enough for the form.

After that, Beverly filled in a free-form section that described her current complaints regarding her issues with her sleep. Below that was a series of questions that felt like they were becoming too personal:

Which of the following do you consider a source of stress in your life? Check all that apply.

The options were listed in two columns below the question:

The blank lines next to the issues pertaining to family, politics, legalities, and “other” implied that Beverly would need to elaborate on the specifics if she chose them.

Beverly checked “Job” and “Lack of current romantic relationship.” She decided against checking “Lack of sex life” as a source of stress; she figured that the lack of the romantic relationship implied that she wasn’t getting laid with any regularity.

The next question also struck her as somewhat unusual: Do you consider yourself politically liberal, conservative, or moderate? She checked the box next to the word ‘moderate.’

The next question asked, If you were to die today, would you go to heaven, hell, or somewhere else? Explain your answer.

She looked up at the receptionist when she saw this question. The receptionist was typing something into her computer. The truth was, she hadn’t really thought about it since she was a little girl. She didn’t care if the doctor thought it was a cop-out, but she decided to answer this question by writing “That depends upon your definitions of heaven and hell.”

How long has it been since the last time you had sexual relations with another person?

Beverly really didn’t feel comfortable answering questions like this. They already knew that she wasn’t in a romantic relationship; did she need to go into the details of her current needs? She stood up and strode cautiously over to the receptionist, who looked up as Beverly approached the window.

“Yes?”

“There’s ... some questions here that I, um, would rather not answer.”

“That’s all right. You can skip any questions you don’t like.”

She eyeballed the remainder of the questions and decided she didn’t want to go into any details about her masturbation habits, homosexual encounters, or past drug use. She was fine saying that she doesn’t take any illegal drugs now, but they had no right to ask about which drugs she had experimented with more than ten years before.

“Here you go, then.” Beverly put the clipboard down on the counter somewhat harder than she had meant to do.

“You hold on to it until Dr. Dunleavy comes in. I’ll let him know you’re ready.”

“Thanks.”

She sat back down and began thumbing through a seven-month old newsmagazine. She mused that reading old news articles effectively accomplished two things: first, for those articles about matters that actually interested her when they happened, she decided that she already knew more than what was reported in the magazine. Second, for those articles about matters she didn’t care about initially, her sense of apathy had not waned any in the time that followed.

She quickly found her way to a review of a disaster movie. She chuckled as she read the closing paragraphs of the review: “At one point, someone looks up at the mountain and asks his neighbor, ‘Is it going to blow?’ You bet. And so will the volcano.”

“Is something funny?”

Beverly jumped at the sound of a man’s voice behind her. “Oh! Um... Nothing. I was just...”

“Just waiting for me to show up. Good evening. My name’s Dr. Conor Dunleavy. Research that I performed in graduate school led me to open this clinic a little bit over a year ago now. I trust you’re comfortable.”

“Yes. Thank you very much.” She absentmindedly ran her hand over the handle of her luggage.

“May I see your paperwork?”

“What? Oh, um.. Sure.” She handed the clipboard to the doctor and watched as he quickly flipped through some of the pages she had filled out.

“Mmm hmmmmm... All right.” He looked up and put the clipboard down to the side. Smiling warmly, he leaned closer to her and said, “Beverly, I’m not going to ask you to go into any more detail about those matters on the questionnaire that you chose not to answer. But I want you to understand that, once you go through that door, you will not be leaving here until the morning. So did those questions on the form make you uncomfortable?”

“Uncomfortable? I just don’t want my sexual history that, um, visible, even if it is within your own files.”

“That seems fair. Now I have to warn you of one thing, Beverly. This isn’t in the paperwork and I certainly won’t write this down. But it might be reason enough for you to decide you don’t want to take advantage of my services here.” He leaned in conspiratorially, and, in a tone just louder than a whisper, told her, “A lot of my clients report that they have very vivid, very sexual, very erotic dreams. I guess, by the loosest definitions of the word, this can be a side-effect of the treatment.”

Beverly, who was feeling simultaneously exhausted and anxious to see if this trial would actually work, took a moment to process this information.

“Erotic dreams?”

“Yes. I’m not entirely sure why it happens, but too many people have told me this to doubt that it’s related to my treatment. I sometimes wonder if some of my repeat customers are just faking their sleep-related issues just to be hooked up to one of my machines. Knowing that this could happen with you, you have two choices. First, you can come back with me and I’ll help you sleep again.” He gestured towards the door through which Melissa had walked when she first came in. “Or you can take your bag, go home, and we go our separate ways, never to see each other again in a setting like this.”

Beverly considered the doctor’s comments and said, finally, “All right, doctor. You can count me in.”

“Great! Let’s get started.” The doctor held the door open and gestured for Beverly to walk through.

Chapter 3

Dr. Dunleavy escorted Beverly to a small room in the middle of a long, dimly lit corridor. Beverly stepped into the room and assessed it: a comfortable-looking bed without a headboard or footrests. Nightstands on either side of the bed. A small desk lamp on one of the nightstands. A couple of plants on the windowsill. A small sink in the corner of the room.

“This is the room where your insomnia will end. I’ll leave you for a minute while you get changed into your sleepwear.”

Before Beverly could respond, the doctor had left Beverly alone and closed the door.

After Beverly stepped out of her shoes, she threw her overnight bag onto the bed, opened it, and pulled out a pair of pink satin pajamas. She turned back to the door to confirm that it was, in fact, closed, before she got changed.

Not knowing how long she would have before the doctor returned, she quickly walked over to the sink and began to brush her teeth. As she was brushing her teeth, she heard a knock on her door.

“May I come in?”

She quickly spit out the frothy mixture of toothpaste, saliva, and the remnants of the food she had eaten throughout the day, and called, “Come in!”

Dr. Dunleavy wheeled a small machine into her room.

Beverly took a drink of water from a dixie cup and put her toothbrush down on the sink.

“Would you mind please putting this on?” He pulled a piece of fabric out of a small bag that he had brought into the room with the machine.

She took the fabric and stretched it between her hands for a minute, not entirely sure what to do with it.

“I’m sorry,” the doctor said, smiling. “Please wear it like a headband. You see that darker square on the one side? Try and center that on your forehead roughly between your eyes.”

“Oh. Okay.”

She quickly put on the headband and adjusted it so that the square was over her forehead.

Dr. Dunleavy lifted the machine off of his wheeled cart and onto one of the nightstands. “Is that comfortable? Too tight? Too loose?”

“It’s ... a little tight but not too uncomfortable.”

He reached forward and adjusted the headband with his thumbs.

“Better?”

“I guess. Thank you.”

“Sleep is all about comfort. Now. Let me explain to you what’s going to happen. After you lie down in bed, I’m going to turn this machine on. The machine will emit radio waves at a special frequency. You won’t hear it, but it will get picked up by a specially designed microchip in your headband. That’s where the dark spot is. As it receives the waves, it’ll send a little pulse into your head, stimulating the part of your brain that regulates your need for sleep. I usually ask my patients to count backwards from ten, slowly.” He paused before adding, with a chuckle, “I’ve never had anyone make it all the way to one.

“And then you’ll sleep the rest of the night. When you wake up in the morning, you’ll feel like your old self again. Your body and your mind will be fully rested.”

“But I’m going to have dreams about sex,” Beverly giggled.

“Most likely, yes. It’s not a given but that does seem to be the rule. Pretty much everyone says that’s a small price to pay for as restful a sleep as you can have.”

“I ... I guess I agree with that. As long as I don’t have to... you know... talk about the dreams in the morning.”

“Tell you what. You’ll only have to tell me about your dreams if they’re not sexual. How’s that sound?”

“All right, I guess.”

“Great! Would you mind please getting into bed? Is it comfortable?”

“The mattress is soft enough, that’s true, but could I please get another blanket? It’s a little bit colder in here than I’d hoped.”

“Sure!” He quickly retrieved a blanket from the bottom of his cart and spread it out above her body. “That better?”

“Yes. Thank you.”

“All right. Unless you have any more questions, I’m going to turn on your machine.”

“I think I’m good for now.”

“Great. Now if you’ll just lie back and put your hands by your sides.”

Beverly felt a little bit nervous and a little bit skeptical that this headband would somehow help her fall asleep after the failure so many other supposed “cures” for her insomnia, but she recognized her own desperation and saw no harm in arguing or worrying about this point.

Dr. Dunleavy leaned over to the machine and pressed a couple of buttons. The machine made a dull whirring sound as it started up.

“Now. Can you count backwards, slowly, from ten?”

Beverly took a deep breath and softly muttered, “Ten.”

She felt no different when she said “Nine” or “Eight.”

When she said the number “Seven,” however, she felt all of the tension slowly leave her lower back and her shoulders. She turned her head slightly but the sheer comfort of the situation made her decide to allow whatever was about to happen, to happen.

“Six.” She suddenly felt like she needed to close her eyes and, once again, she did not fight the feeling she received in her body.

“Five.” She felt a tiny bead of saliva slide out of her mouth and down her cheek. She felt no desire to move her hands to wipe her mouth.

“Four.” Her body had become so relaxed, so calm, so tired, that she started to slur her speech with this number.

“Thr...” before she could get out the sounds of the number ‘three’, she had drifted into a deep sleep and started snoring.

“Very good, Beverly.” The doctor lifted her hand and released it. As it flopped back down onto the bed by her side, he grinned. He added, “Very good, Beverly” as he walked out of her room.

Chapter 4

Dr. Dunleavy walked over to the receptionist and asked, “How many patients do we have tonight, Aileen?”

“A full house, sir. Stewart, Roger, and Melissa are returning patients, and Beverly is a new patient.”

“Are they all here?”

“Yes, sir. Melissa was the last to arrive, but she got herself set up and she’s been asleep now for about ten minutes.”

“Did Beverly see any of them?”

“She was in the waiting room when Melissa arrived. Considering the way Melissa hurried in, and the way she was dressed, I doubt Beverly got much of a look at Melissa’s face.”

“Good.”

“I know Beverly’s in room 1. Does that mean Melissa’s in room 3?”

“Yes. And Roger’s in room 2.”

“Got it. So how have you decorated the central hall tonight?”

“Why don’t you go see for yourself?”

“Do we have to play this game every night?”

“Do you have to ask every night? I’d think you’d need more details than anything I might say about what I did. You’d need to, um, see my handiwork firsthand, wouldn’t you?”

“And I would check it out anyway. I’d just like ... to, uh, you know. Know what your theme is before I walk in there.”

“So you admit to me that you have other ways of finding out.”

“Of course I do. I’d just think that you’d want to tell me.”

“Blame my upbringing.”

“I always do, Aileen. I always do.” He turned on his heels and strode to the central hall. The moment he opened the door, he smiled broadly. “Now this looks like it’ll be a lot of fun for our four patients tonight.”

He looked up at one of the cameras that monitored activity in this room and gave his receptionist a “thumbs up” sign.

Glancing at his watch, he recognized that he had about ten minutes to kill before Beverly would be ready, so he returned to his office and decided to play a few games of solitaire on his computer.

After losing two straight games, the young doctor glanced at his watch and realized it was time. He launched an application on his computer and stared at a few lines of encoded information in green text against a black background.

As he continued to type, he made a point of glancing out of his door and into the corridor. Melissa slowly walked past his office, her back completely straight, her eyes fixed straight ahead. She was wearing a gray bathrobe.

After Melissa was out of sight in the hallway, Dr. Dunleavy glanced at a closed-circuit television camera monitor. After a few moments of watching an empty room, he smiled as Melissa appeared in the monitor. From what he could tell, her face was expressionless, eyes barely open. He typed a few commands on his computer and Melissa strode over to a table near the wall. She then picked up one object and held on to it.

“Perfect, Melissa. Absolutely perfect,” he whispered.

* * *

Once the first commands had registered in the computer, Beverly let out a gasp. She sat upright in her bed, turned so that her feet hung over the edge, and stood up.

Chapter 5

Beverly’s sleeping body moved of its own volition. Her hand moved inside of her pajama top and, in a sweeping gesture, unbuttoned all of the buttons, before both hands hung limply by her side.

She swayed slightly in a few different directions and the smooth fabric of her nightshirt fell off behind her, revealing her breasts to the darkened room.

She continued swaying until she landed gently back onto her bed. Her hands moved to the pieces of elastic that kept her pajama bottom and her underwear on at her hips. Stretching both articles of clothing with her thumbs, she lowered them to her knees and stood up again.

Her legs then started moving in an almost march-like stride. In no time, the remainder of her clothes had fallen gently to her ankles and then onto the floor.

Once naked, she held out both of her hands in front of her and marched out of her room, down the hallway, and into the central hall.

Melissa had been waiting in the central hall ever since her own nocturnal wanderings had taken her to this point. The only clothing she had been wearing was the gray bathrobe, which now lay at her feet.

Beverly stopped a little bit over an arm’s length away from Melissa. Once she stopped walking, Beverly opened her mouth and raised the back of her long hair above her head.

Melissa stepped forward and stuffed an object into Beverly’s mouth. With Beverly’s hair out of the way, Melissa walked around and clasped it shut, locking it into Beverly’s mouth.

Melissa then lowered her hands and pinched both of Beverly’s nipples.

Upon feeling this sensation, Beverly let out a low squeal, however she was unable to vocalize too much due to the gag she now wore.

Melissa backed away as Beverly let out a low snort, confirming that her body was still asleep.

Beverly walked slowly to the middle of the room.

The two men, Stewart and Roger, walked into the room, their arms outstretched before them. In a fluid, synchronized motion, both men threw off their own gray bathrobes and stood naked before the two women. All four people stood facing each other before the two men broke off and walked towards one side of the room

The men waited by the wall and, after a moment, a large round piece of wood—a large wheel—rolled out in front of them. They quickly rolled it back to where the two women stood, bringing it to a stop directly behind where Beverly stood.

Melissa knelt down and secured Beverly’s left ankle to a leather strap near the bottom of the wooden wheel. Beverly spread her legs as Melissa bound her right ankle.

The two men bound Beverly’s hands above her head.

Once Beverly was bound solidly, the two men moved the board upon which she was bound, adjusting it so that it was parallel to the floor. Had her eyes been able to focus on anything specific within the room, she would have been looking at the ceiling.

Melissa stepped forward and began to lick Beverly’s pussy. The sensation of Melissa’s tongue and lips probing and exploring every fold and ridge of her flesh, made Beverly let out a low moan that vibrated through her gag, even in her subconscious state.

Melissa probed Beverly’s body more deeply. In response, Beverly arched her back, her body reacting to the stimuli she was receiving as she got wetter and wetter under Melissa’s knowing tongue.

Once Melissa was satisfied that she had prepared the newcomer for the pleasures of the sleep clinic, she stood up. Melissa walked around Beverly’s bound body, taking care to pinch both nipples before walking away.

In another corner of the room, Melissa saw her destination: she approached the wooden apparatus and knelt down before it. She then leaned forward and placed her head and arms in the designated spaces.

Stewart followed Melissa and closed the “rack” over her head and wrists, binding her in her place. He wagged his cock in front of her face, grazing her lips with the tip. Melissa let out a gasp as he did this.

Melissa’s gasp was barely audible over the sounds Beverly was making: Roger had found his way over to the bound newcomer, removed her gag, and had mounted her, teasing her engorged slit with his cock before thrusting deeply into her.

Stewart strode slowly behind Melissa, parted her legs slightly, and took her from behind.

* * *

In short time, the subconscious yelps of both women echoed throughout the clinic.

Dr. Dunleavy looked away from his monitors and smiled at his receptionist, who by now, was sitting next to him in his office. “So how’d you come up with the idea of the dungeon motif?”

“Oh, well, you know...” Aileen blushed slightly.

The doctor chuckled. “Well, at any rate, as always, you do good work. I think this is better than the deserted island you did last week.”

“Thank you.” After a short pause, the receptionist leaned closer to her boss. “So, does this give you any ideas?”

“That depends. What did you have in mind?”

She started to run her hand up and down his chest and said “Oh... Nothing in particular.”

He closed his eyes and let his assistant have her way with him. It was one of the fringe benefits of working here, he mused, as she rocked his world.

Chapter 6

Shortly before the sun rose the following morning, Beverly and the other patients sleep-walked back to their respective rooms. Dr. Dunleavy was waiting for her there, and he helped her to get back into her pajamas.

Once she was back in her nightclothes, she lay back down in bed and he pulled the covers back up over her body.

He adjusted a dial on the machine by her bedside and waited for the low hum to recede.

“Now, Beverly. I suppose you need to understand what happened here tonight. The headband you wore tonight helped you to get to sleep, there is no question about that. I added some additional programming into the microchip in the headband, and that resulted in your activities overnight with the other patients.

“When you wake up in the morning, you will remember what happened tonight, but it will seem to you as though it were a very vivid, very erotic dream. And, of course, you enjoyed it tremendously, even if you might not feel comfortable talking about dreams like this in your normal, daily routine.

“Now. You will not have any major issues with your sleep from now on, but you will also find that you will not feel quite as refreshed on a daily basis, as you will feel when you do wake up in about an hour or so. So you will want to come back to this clinic on average of once every other week or so. You will authorize us to bill your insurance, and will be willing to cover any costs that your insurance might not be willing to pay. I do not anticipate this being more than a relatively small amount for any given visit to the clinic.”

Beverly let out a low snort.

“I have one more thing that you should be aware of. While I can’t instruct you of what you should wear when you sleep at home, from here on in, you will sleep in the nude here at the clinic. The only article of clothing you should want to wear here once you get settled in, is a bathrobe. When you wake up, I will recommend that you purchase a bathrobe that has been branded with our logo on it, and you will do so before you leave. If you understand everything I’ve told you, then nod your head.”

Beverly nodded her head.

“Very good. Now let’s let your body wind down from your amazing experience tonight. I’ll be back in time for you to wake up.”

The doctor pressed a few buttons on the machine by her bed, got up and walked out of her room. When he reached the doorway, he turned back to glance at her silhouetted, sleeping form. He mused about how peaceful she looked before turning back around and closing the door.

Chapter 7

At about 7:30, the machine by Beverly’s bed stopped making its humming noise. Almost as if on cue, Beverly opened her eyes, squinted at the light shining through her window, blinked a few times, and stretched her arms above her head.

As she inhaled deeply from the first restful night’s sleep in some time, her hands immediately went between her legs to confirm that, yes, her panties were somewhat wet from the erotic dream she had had the night before.

She turned her head to one side and immediately pulled her hand away from her crotch. “Oh, Dr. Dunleavy! I, um... I didn’t see you there.”

“That’s all right, Beverly. If you’d feel more comfortable, you can call me Conor.”

“Um, I think Dr. Dunleavy’s probably better for me, if you don’t mind. Takes my mind off of how young you look.”

“That’s fine. Either way, I’m always in my first-time patients’ rooms when they wake up. I just want to see how you feel.”

“I feel great!” she answered without hesitation. “Even before I started having trouble sleeping, I don’t think I ever slept that well.”

“I’m glad to hear it.”

“But, um...” she looked away from the doctor. “Remember last night how you said that a lot of your patients have really, um... you know... uh... sexual dreams?”

“Yes.” He spoke the word slowly and deliberately.

She looked around to make sure that she was alone with her doctor before whispering, “Yes. I’ve never had a dream like that before.”

“I don’t want to say or do anything that would make you feel uncomfortable, but would you like to tell me about it?”

“I, um, don’t want to say too much, but I was in this dungeon and this girl put a gag in my mouth and then I was tied to this round table and this guy. Actually two guys ... and the girl, now that I think of it, they, um, they all got to have their way with me, and, um... Well, I couldn’t, I mean it was really sensual and really, well... I, um... I think I enjoyed that dream in my sleep, if you know what I mean.”

“Do you mind if I ask, are you ‘into’ that sort of thing?” He made a quote mark gesture with his fingers as he said the word ‘into.’

“No! Or, rather, I, um, I don’t think I am. I’ve never done anything like that before.”

“Well, if it means anything, a lot of my patients tell me their dreams often involve activities that are outside of their, shall we say, comfort zones, but that they liked it anyway. Now, I really can’t tell you what you should or shouldn’t do in your personal life, but sometimes I wonder if I ought to do a study on the nature of these dreams and whether or not I’m tapping into something deep in my patients’ subconscious about their desires and fantasies, experiences and interests.”

“Well, I think you should..”

“Thank you. Now. For a few business matters to round out. First, you are under no obligation to come back here for additional sleep assistance, but if you feel you need it, I’m going to have to bill your insurance for any future services. Do you think you’ll want to do that?”

“I do.” Beverly paused, thinking she sounded a bit too enthusiastic in that answer. “I, um, er, that might be a good idea.”

“That’s fine. Normally, insurance doesn’t cover the full cost of our services, so any differences you’d need to cover. If your insurance is like most others, then you’ll probably need to pay about fifty dollars out of pocket for each visit.”

“That seems reasonable.”

“We have a total of four spaces on any given night. Although they do fill up quickly, I don’t think you’ll ever have to wait more than three or four days for an appointment from when you call us.”

“Excellent.”

“One final bit. We are trying to make a little bit more money to help defray our costs, so, um, could I interest you in purchasing a bathrobe branded with our logo on it?”

“I’d love it! How much?”

“Forty.”

“You’ve got a deal.”

“I’ll leave a box with the receptionist, and you can pay her when you’re ready to leave.”

“Thank you.”

“Now, if you’ll just give me your headband, I’ll leave you to get dressed. Please stop by the receptionist on your way out to make sure all of the paperwork is in order.”

Beverly handed the doctor her headband and rubbed her forehead as she watched him wheel the machine out of her room and close the door.

She walked over to the sink to brush her teeth and told her reflection, “Yeah. I think I’m going to want to come back here.”

Chapter 8

The next time they were together at work, Janie couldn’t help but comment on Beverly’s appearance. “Wow! That sleep clinic must’ve really helped you with your insomnia! You look great!”

“Thanks, and you’re right. I really want to thank you for telling me about it.”

“Don’t thank me. Thank my brother.”

“I will if I ever see him.”

“He’s actually going to come by at lunch today. He’s got the day off and he said he wanted to get together with his favorite sister. I told him I was his only sister, but he insisted. So he’ll be coming here and enjoying the lovely cafeteria food they offer us. Would you like to join us?”

“Sure! Why not?”

* * *

When lunch rolled around, Janie got a call from her brother. “I’ll meet you at the guard’s desk. I’ll be there in five minutes.”

Janie and Beverly walked to the guard’s desk where Janie’s brother received a visitor’s badge before the three of them continued to the company cafeteria.

“Bev, I’d like you to meet my brother, Roger. Roger, this is Beverly. She’s the one who went to that sleep clinic.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Beverly.” He shook her hand.

“Same here, Roger. You know... You look really familiar.”

“Yeah. So do you...”

Beverly felt a slight flutter in her loins as she realized she had only seen him in a dream. A very vivid, sensual dream.

—end—