Title: Head Game
AN: This story is intended to be enjoyed as a fantasy by persons over the age of 18—similar actions if undertaken in real life would be deeply unethical and probably illegal. © MoldedMind, 2021.
The first time it happened, Hazel couldn’t be sure if it was real or a dream. At first she was sure it had to be a dream, because it surfaced from a blackout. One moment she had been unaware, unconscious, and the next she had been perfectly conscious of her surroundings. She’d come to awareness inside her dream, or so she’d thought, while she was dreaming of being at the pharmacy.
It struck Hazel as strange, at the time, that she was dreaming of being at the pharmacy. Her dreams tended to be shapeless, formless things. Highly symbolic, containing no realistic everyday markers. This dream by contrast was deeply vivid. Hazel was aware of the pharmacy shelves around her to the point that she could consciously make mental note of the brand names they presented to her.
She was aware of the central air system above her, in the process of circulation— and aware that she was underdressed for her errand. It was a warm day, so maybe Hazel’s outfit wasn’t completely out of place. It’s not like it was making her cold— even in an air-conditioned drugstore, her body was shimmering with odd warmth.
But her attire would have been more appropriate at the beach, thrown over a bathing suit. She wore only a tight tube top, and a miniskirt. It was scandalously short, barely passing the base of Hazel’s upper thigh. So short, that if she were sitting, Hazel knew anyone sitting across from her would have a clear view of her cunt.
In her dream, she somehow knew she was wearing no underwear beneath the miniskirt: so when she walked, she could feel her outer lips shifting against each other with each step. That detail of sensation was as vivid as the rest of her surroundings, the light, the air system, the colors of the boxed products. She was so attuned to sensation she could even feel the little beads of lubrication there, making the slipping of one lip past the other that much smoother.
She wasn’t wearing a bra, either, so her shoulders were bare. Her arms were bare, too, since the tube top had no sleeves. And without a bra, Hazel knew her nipples were showing through the fine fabric of her shirt. They were hard— she could feel that, too. The shimmering warmth she had noticed before was arousal… apparently, in her dream, it turned her on to be this explicitly on display. Any other customer in the store could get as much of an eyeful as they wanted. The other random strangers her mind had populated her dream with would be able to tell that she was aroused, horny for it, just by looking down at her tits, and seeing the sharp points her nipples had tightened into.
This brazen exhibitionism only seemed to make Hazel feel hornier. She was only walking the aisles aimlessly— not choosing anything to purchase at all, only wandering with a dreamy smile on her face, feeling herself become more and more aroused. Feeling her slit get wetter and wetter, feeling her nipples sharpen into still-tighter buds, tight enough to ache.
The passers-by gave her bemused looks; some of them even gave her quick, shocked glances before averting their eyes. A few looked her over with more lingering glances, some of those openly lascivious, drinking her in. But those distinctions didn’t matter to Hazel.
No matter how they looked at her, no matter who they were, whether women or men— it was only the fact that they looked that made a difference. Just the simple fact that they were looking, that they saw her dressed in such a revealing outfit, was enough to keep her arousal rising by the minute. If it got to be much more, she’d practically want to start fucking herself in the middle of an aisle at random, for all to see.
But even in her aroused mental fog, Hazel couldn’t help but reflect on how clear and vivid everything around her was. She almost thought that was strange— except she thought she remembered something she’d read about lucid dreaming once, about how when you woke up in the middle of the dream that everything felt photo-real. More real than the waking world. Waking up in the middle of a dream was only the first step: if she got enough practice at it, she’d eventually be able to influence the dream’s surroundings, it’s narrative, her movement through it.
It almost seemed like fun to her, from this perspective. If it felt this good, this vivid— this much more real than waking life, lucid dreaming was clearly something worth pursuing. And while she couldn’t be sure why her subconscious mind had given her a dream like this, she wasn’t exactly about to complain either. Other sexual dreams she’d had had never been as hot as this… she was already so turned on that if she walked just a little more… if her slit chafed against itself just a little more…
It was only then that Hazel took one more step along her trajectory. And instead of the resulting shift of her lower lips launching her into orgasm, it triggered a realization in her mind. She had been following a pattern around the store; this many times past that marker, this many times past the other. She had passed all markers the exact right amount of times. That last step had cinched it. And instead of giving her released, it had made her realize.
It wasn’t a dream. She was really in the drugstore— it was the drugstore only three blocks away from her house. Some of the shoppers were neighbors she recognized… people she knew, who recognized her. And she was this scantily clad — nearly naked — in front of them.
Hazel’s cheeks burned at the realization. She couldn’t stand to be in the store one more second. She was glad she hadn’t picked up anything to buy before, because now it meant she could rush out of the store without delay. She couldn’t walk quickly enough— though unfortunately, her quick paces out of the store only caused her lower lips to rub together with more friction.
And the simple fact that she had woken up to realize the embarrassment of her situation hadn’t done anything to reduce her arousal. This made the added friction more uncomfortable for her— and as she rushed out of the store, Hazel was mortified by the thought that she really might come before she could get back outside, and streak her bare legs with lubrication.
Luckily she did make it outside without this happening. And as she walked the three blocks home at a slightly more relaxed pace (only to reduce the friction between her thighs) — she puzzled over her behavior. She had been completely unconscious. There was nothing before the memory of coming too in the drugstore… no memory of dressing herself, no memory of walking there. The first recollection was only of her, already standing mid-aisle, taking note of her surroundings and believing it was all only a dream. So how…? So what…?
When Hazel was at last tucked safely behind her own door, shielded from outside view and judging eyes, she thought of the how. Also of the what.
Penny.
“I could play around in your head, you know,” Penny had said, one afternoon when the two of them had been alone together, lounging in Penny’s bedroom. Hazel had been lying stomach-first on Penny’s bedroom rug, flipping through a magazine. Penny had had some music on to play— and she’d been sitting cross-legged on her twin bed, filing her nails.
“You could play around in my head,” Hazel had repeated with a snort. “What does that even mean?”
“It means I could make you forget things,” Penny had said, and Hazel had looked up from her magazine. Penny had kept her eyes on the nails of her right hand, shifting the emory board in the grip of her other with a patient steadiness. “Give you amnesia, or take it away and make you remember what I made you forget before. Or I could make you do things you wouldn’t do in your right mind. Put you in situations you’d hate, or that would make you feel uncomfortable. But make you like being there.” Penny gave another shift of her nail file, seeming to time that one, swift swipe of it to the end of her last sentence.
Hazel had rolled her eyes. She’d been friends with Penny since high-school, and all through college. And though the two of them were well on their way to being half-way through their twenties— Penny only a few months away from her twenty-fifth birthday, and Hazel only a few months behind her— Hazel still didn’t take her seriously.
In some ways, they’d never quite gotten past the high school dynamic of their friendship, though they’d outgrown it in years. Penny had been the sporty type back then— Hazel had been more bookish. This had meant she’d often been the one to bail Penny out in her assignments. As a result, Hazel had always (privately) looked down on Penny— considered herself smarter than her. She’d always thought of Penny as less intelligent, and felt a little bit better about herself in comparison.
So when Penny had claimed that day that she could do all those things she’d listed, Hazel had thought Penny didn’t know what she was talking about— as usual. True to their old dynamic, Hazel had scoffed at her from her position sprawled on Penny’s floor— the same position she’d always taken back in the day too.
Penny had been unconcerned. She’d given a shrug, without looking up from her nail file. A shrug that made her high ponytail bounce in place.
“I could prove it to you, if you let me into your head. But I really don’t care one way or the other. You’d have to be curious enough. It would be up to you.”
Hazel had laughed Penny off at the time, but finally out of incredulity she had agreed. And the first induction to trance had felt more like drifting into a warm nap than it had felt like anything sinister.
Penny had told her it would take her some time to show what she was talking about. She’d reassured her that she could do it, though, with a light laugh. And Hazel’s habitual visits to Penny had come to contain more of those warm stretches of unconsciousness. During which Hazel had no idea exactly what Penny was doing.
But that day, when Hazel was safely back on the other side of the door, she realized Penny had pretty effectively showed her work. Whatever she’d been doing in Hazel’s mind while Hazel was unconscious had been enough to get her dressed like this, and down to the drug store to show herself in a way she never would have done voluntarily.
Hazel regretted accepting Penny’s offer. To make herself feel more like normal again, she quickly stripped out of her clothes, and re-dressed herself in something more modest.
Then, she’d decided the only way to really feel okay again was to make sure nothing like this ever happened again. She called Penny, intending to tell her that enough was enough.
But when Penny answered, she seemed to have been expecting Hazel’s call. “Did you do it?” She asked. Her voice was too cheerful and bright for the content of the conversation, as far as Hazel was concerned.
“You mean did I wander around a drugstore half-naked for who knows how long? I did, and I’m calling to tell you—“
“And did it turn you on?” Penny cut right through Hazel’s planned objection.
It was unexpected enough to make Hazel forget what she was supposed to say next. She and Penny did not have a sexual relationship; neither one of them were particularly sexually active, either. But even when they were, they barely discussed that part of their lives with each other, let alone spoke so openly about something so explicit.
Hazel blushed. “No— it didn’t—“ She tried.
Penny just gave a light laugh again. “It did turn you on, I can tell from your voice. But it embarrasses for you to realize that. I forced you to humiliate yourself, and you liked it. I told you I could. Just give me some more time, and pretty soon you’ll like the idea of that even when you’re conscious.”
Hazel spluttered, thrown off again by such a bold admission. She meant to regroup and tell Penny the agreement was off. Really she did. But then Penny had ended the call before she got the chance.
That was the first time Hazel found herself waking into what she thought was a dream, only to realize she was really awake, and in an uncomfortable situation. It was the first time, but it wasn’t the last.
For awhile Penny seemed to enjoy her cruel game of dress-up with Hazel’s tranced self. She got practically the whole way through Hazel’s wardrobe; putting Hazel in similarly embarrassing outfits as the first time. Penny dressed her in mixtures of things that were intended to be sleepwear, or underwear. The various outfits she cobbled together for Hazel to wear displayed most of Hazel’s goods. She seemed to be trying to instill a sense of exhibitionism in her.
Hazel worried, over time, that it was working. Every time she woke into one of those “dreams” from Penny, she was more turned on than she had been the time before. And when she inevitably crossed the trigger that woke her back up to herself, she had the same flush of humiliation every time. But it took longer and longer for the arousal to subsede, with each new dream, and the way she thought about the dreams, in-between, shifted too.
At first, her intention was always to call off her agreement with Penny when she was between one dream and the next. The intention was always lost when she spoke or saw Penny again. And though she tried to stay away, Hazel failed at that too. She couldn’t stop it from happening, and at first that really bothered her.
But as time went on, Hazel found her mind starting to change. It was embarrassing to be forced into exhibitionism, but when it felt so hot in the moment, she couldn’t keep a part of her from looking forward to it happening again.
If for no other reason than the fact that no matter how turned on she got — and the level of arousal possible for her seemed truly limitless — she never actually got a release from it. The waking point always seemed to come at the crest of her pleasure, right when she expected an orgasm. Against her better judgement, that left her craving more.
Eventually, Hazel got used to the routine of it, and got at least a little comfortable with the idea of it happening again each time she found herself on the other side of one of her trances.
But then, one day, the dream given to her broke the pattern. She wasn’t alone in it. It was the first time there were other characters involved beyond just faceless strangers walking past and noticing her.
As usual, when Hazel found herself in this strange new situation, she assumed it was one more dream she’d woken up in the middle of. No matter how many times she went through the experience, Hazel wasn’t capable of realizing she was really awake until she reached the wake trigger.
For once, Hazel wasn’t dreaming of being in public. That was a nice change, she thought. Apparently her subconscious had had enough with that setting.
But the scenario Hazel had found herself in was no less kinky. She was still among strangers, and still shamefully dressed. This time, she was wearing a strapless bra as if it were a shirt on its own. This had been paired with a pair of sleep shorts that were equally scandalous. Hazel was almost sorry that the dream was starting at this point. Dreaming of the walk to arrive here would have been equally satisfying; like all the other dreams she’d had of walking in public dressed like this.
But this time, her dream was clearly taking place in someone’s private home. She was sitting on the couch of someone’s living room, and there were two other women in the room with her, one seated on either of her, and the two were having an animated conversation.
Even in her dream, she knew that neither woman was Penny. And though she never seemed to dream of Penny, her sleeping self was aware of her at all times in spite of Penny’s absence. Aware that Penny was the one who gave her dreams like these— aware that Penny was the source of the pleasure that flowed through her. When she was dreaming like this, the only thing that information made Hazel want to do was smile.
So even in the dream, she knew she was not with Penny; and knew these two women were strangers to her. But Hazel wasn’t bothered by this. She was sitting, on display, in revealing clothing like many times before. That was enough to turn her on— so it was enough for Hazel to sit there, feeling the quiet fire of arousal radiating warmly through her, as the two women went on speaking.
“I just don’t know where to start,” the first was saying.
“I think that’s silly,” the second said. “Come on, Krysta. Penny’s lent girls to us before. Why is this time any different? You know the layout. We get to have fun with her; all we have to do is make sure to reinforce the programming Penny asked us to. It’s basic courtesy— the least we can do. Especially since this one is so pretty.” The second one took a moment to trail her fingertips down the side of Hazel’s face.
“It just seemed like Penny’s instructions were a little more detailed this time than they have been before,” Krysta countered. “I don’t want to get it wrong. Penny’s all smiles, and probably the friendliest person you’d ever meet, considering what it is she does. I’d hate to disappoint or otherwise cross her. She’s so good at this kind of thing it’s scary.”
The second woman looked a bit irritated in response to this. “Well, what do you think we should do?”
“I think we should just induce her deeper, and repeat some of the mantras Penny shared with us,” Krysta insisted. “And save the play for later.”
The second woman shook her head. “I think this time that would be a big mistake. Penny was really clear that she’s trying to start a new phase in Hazel’s programming, and the two of us having our fun with her is instrumental in that. You were there when she told us. If you’re so worried about disappointing or crossing her, you should worry about what she’ll think if we tell her we didn’t do what she asked.”
Krysta frowned. “Maybe you’re right, Tammy… she just seemed more attached to this one than some of the others in the past. I didn’t want to overstep.”
Tammy rolled her eyes. “Penny knows what she’s doing. She understands what she’s asking for when she asks it. So can we play with this one now? Please?”
“Yeah, okay,” Krysta said. “But if it turns out we have overstepped, I’m throwing you under the bus.”
“In that case, consider me thrown,” Tammy returned. But both women looked from each other to Hazel, then. Krysta seemed more at ease with whatever it was they were about to do, and Tammy seemed glad that Krysta wasn’t going to hold her back any longer.
“Hazel,” Tammy said, and Hazel’s attention focused in. “I know you’re a good girl for Penny, but you remember now that she told you she was transferring her control to us temporarily. You want to do everything we say. You want to obey.”
As soon as Tammy said it, Hazel knew it was true. The two women were not strangers to her any longer. There were not irrelevant; not two figures which some part of her was wishing she could trade for Penny. She was filled, suddenly, with the desire to please and satisfy them in whatever way they liked. She wanted to make them so happy that they would tell her she was good.
It was like the feeling had been waiting dormant in her mind for Tammy to speak and unlock it. In the dream, Hazel knew Penny had left it there, and then put the key in Tammy’s hand.
“I want to obey,” Hazel said, her voice slowed with the dreamlike quality that filled her.
“Of course you do,” Krysta contributed, giving her other cheek a stroke. “You’re so deeply tranced right now it’s the only thing that makes sense to you. Especially when it feels so good.”
“You want to come upstairs with us, to the bedroom, now,” Tammy added, and Hazel did. She wanted it more than anything. She didn’t wait for the instruction to stand.
Tammy laughed. “I can see why Penny likes her.” Then she and Krysta stood too, and led Penny up the staircase, and through a door on the left.
It was a bedroom, as Tammy had said, and the bed was pretty large for a double. Hazel barely registered it, though, because she was on edge, waiting for her next command.
“Let’s see how wet you are, just from obeying that command,” Krysta said, and Hazel felt Krysta’s hand slip down the front of her tiny shorts to slide gently through her folds. She was dripping down there— there was no resistance to Krysta’s motion at all.
“Roll her shorts down, Krysta,” Tammy instructed. “Let me see.”
Krysta obliged Tammy, sending Hazel’s shorts down to sit at her feet, and leaving Hazel’s cunt open to Tammy’s view. It flowered open on its own, but Krysta stroked along it once more, and it blossomed even more.
“So well trained, already,” Tammy remarked. “You’re just running like a river down there, and we’ve barely started.”
The praise made Hazel flush in satisfaction. Tammy and Krysta held control over her, now— and she wanted them to want to praise her. She wanted to be worthy of praise; it pleased her that she’d already earned some. Now she wanted more.
Krysta next removed Hazel’s bra, and let it fall to the ground. Hazel was completely naked in front of the two of them.
“You look just delicious,” Tammy said. “Krysta, I don’t think I can wait.”
“Go ahead,” Krysta invited her. Tammy got down onto her knees, and Hazel’s legs shook when she felt Tammy’s mouth connect to her center.
Krysta had come around from standing behind her to standing at her side, and she took one of Hazel’s breasts delicately in her hand as Tammy continued licking her out.
The pleasure from Tammy’s tonguing shook through Hazel, but it was only increased as Krysta began lightly fondling the breast she held.
“What a fun toy you are for us to play with,” Krysta said, her voice smooth. “You’d be a fun toy for anyone to play with. You could be given to anyone, and used as anyone’s toy. And the only thing you feel when you think about that is arousal… It turns you on so much to be used as a toy. You want to let anyone and everyone use you, because you’re such a slut for it.”
This was what finally drew a cry of pleasure from Hazel. She knew that Krysta and Tammy were in control, and that, clearly they wanted to program her. That in itself was pleasurable for her, in the dream.
But she recognized the tone conveyed in the words. Krysta may have wanted to program her, but what she’d programmed her with hadn’t been her idea. Penny had placed the words on her tongue for her to speak, and that was the most exciting idea of all.
Penny wanted Hazel to be a toy— Penny’s control of her was so total that she could put Hazel here, and make her enjoy it. The programming was coming to Hazel through Krysta, but it was from Penny. That knowledge only reinforced Hazel’a submission to Penny.
Krysta and Tammy may have been the tools, but Penny was the master planner of this encounter. Every part of it had been orchestrated by her. Hazel was aware of Krysta and Tammy’s borrowed power, because she’d been commanded to. But she felt perfectly as though she were wrapped up inside Penny’s control as Krysta and Tammy played with her.
Tammy was still down between Hazel’s legs, licking with skill, and Krysta was manipulating both of Hazel’s breasts.
“Hazel,” Krysta addressed, and Hazel looked to her, attentively. “I want you to move your hand down to my pussy, and give me a good fingering. And I want your other hand playing my clit.”
The instruction had been given, and Hazel’s open mind received it. She turned slightly in place, and Tammy followed her. From this position, she had a better angle. She slid one hand down, to start teasing at Krysta’s entrance, and with her other hand, started plucking at Krysta’s clit in rhythmic time.
Krysta fondled Hazel’s breasts with more inspiration, in return. “Yes,” she moaned. “Just like that… keep touching me like that.”
Hazel gave Krysta what she’d already been giving her, but more. Krysta again paid it back to her in the attention she was giving to Hazel’s breasts. Hazel was on fire with pleasure, pleasure burning in all parts of her body. And filling her mind, because she knew, Krysta and Tammy we acting only as conduits to the true source of that pleasure— Penny.
The three of them kept that position for awhile, but eventually made it to the bed, and changed their roles around. The longer their tryst went on, the less Hazel was able to keep track of it. The more pleasure they filled her with, the more it fogged out her thoughts, and her ability to keep track of a sequence of events. That didn’t bother Hazel, really. Did a toy really need the capacity to think?
Both Krysta and Tammy seemed to enjoy multiple orgasms throughout their play. But there was no release for Hazel. No matter how many times the other two women came, Hazel never did, even though she was more than turned on enough. There was one person who could give Hazel an orgasm with one word, and she had never done it. And she was not present to do it, even if she’d decided it was finally time.
Hazel stayed in the dream for a long time. It was a long dream… but at last, it seemed Krysta and Tammy had finished playing. They put Hazel back in her shorts, and put her back in her bra. They walked her back down the stairs, and sat her back down on the couch. Hazel would have been more help to them in these tasks if she hadn’t been so blissed out. She’d reached a level of trance that neared catatonia, and her arousal had not faded at all.
Once they had deposited Hazel back onto the couch, the two of them turned all lights off but one lamp. Then they went back up the stairs to their bedroom, and closed the door behind them.
Hazel sat for a long time, in the near-dark. She was perfectly thoughtless as she sat there, focusing only on the pleasure still running through her. Funny she’d dreamt of being so deep— funny that it was her subconscious mind’s deepest fantasy to be so thoughtless and so still, and all because Penny had told her to…
There was a key in the door to the front room then, and Hazel looked to see who it was. Someone else come to use her, maybe.
But when the door opened, the person who stepped through was Penny— and Hazel realized that this, Penny’s arrival, was her wake trigger.
And none of it had been a dream.
“Hey,” Penny said, in her ever-cheerful tone. “I’ve come to drive you back home.”
So benign. So casual. As if Penny hadn’t just lent her out as a sex toy to two of her friends.
“The forced exhibitionism was one thing,” Hazel said, ignoring Penny’s remark. “But to give me away as a sex doll—“
Penny had come around to the couch, and even as Hazel’s voice had been rising, she’d taken gentle hold of one of Hazel’s arms to guide her to her feet.
“Shh,” Penny said. “It’s late. Krysta and Tammy are probably asleep. You can yell at me in the car.”
Though Hazel did fully intend to yell at Penny, she found it so much easier just to follow Penny’s guidance. To stand, as directed, and walk out after her— to sit down in the passenger seat and buckle herself into place.
When Penny had started the car up, and gotten them on their way back to Hazel’s place, Hazel picked up where she’d left off.
“Like I was saying,” she snapped. “It’s one thing to dress me up so I’m a humiliation to myself, and one thing to send me off walking around in public. It is a completely different thing to give me to two strangers, and let them play with my body!”
Penny only smiled serenely. “It is,” she agreed. “It shows how ready you are to surrender to me— to surrender to me even more deeply than before. Part of your mind understood exactly what was happening the entire time you were, even while the rest of it was shielded from it. And I’ll bet that part liked it even more because it knew. Just like I told you.”
This stumped Hazel, but Penny kept talking as her eyes stayed on the road. “That part of you has accepted that you’re mine— to use myself, or loan out to others. That even when I give you away, you belong to me more powerfully than if I called you to come to me. And all that’s happened is that part of you has become more deeply devoted to me, now.”
Hazel spluttered, but still Penny went on. “Krysta and Tammy are good friends of mine— they’re trustworthy. I’ve got lots of other trustworthy friends, too. Think about being used by them— how does it make you feel? To be passed around through my network, pleasured and used by people you don’t know, all the while understanding that I am the source of anything that happens to you, even when I am not there?”
Hazel was very disturbed to find that it turned her on. She’d thought her pleasure had levelled off, found a plateau, but as Penny had described the scenario, it had disturbingly started rising again.
“Well…” she tried. “Couldn’t you at least…”
“What?” Penny asked. “Let you come?”
Hazel flushed to hear it stated so plainly.
“You’ll come when it’s the right time,” Penny said, evenly. “As long as your mind is clinging to the dream or reality divide— as long as part of you insists on being shielded from the deeper reality of your obedience, you aren’t ready for it. But eventually you will be. You took a big step tonight. I’m proud of that.”
Penny had reached Hazel’s house, and stopped the car. Hazel had been so lost in what Penny was saying she hadn’t noticed. And when Penny spoke those words of praise, Hazel felt herself shimmering in self-satisfaction again, even as she was partly disgusted with herself for it.
“You did a good job tonight,” Penny affirmed again. She unbuckled herself, and leaned in close. Hazel only realized what was happening in the next second, when Penny pressed her lips carefully to Hazel’s.
Hazel trembled inside the kiss, but Penny was steady. She kissed her for a few minutes, and it only stoked Hazel higher.
When at last Penny pulled back, Hazel was shaking. “Won’t you— You’ll give me away, but won’t you… use me yourself?”
Penny gave her that same open smile. “When you’re ready, Hazel. Now have a good night.”
Hazel got out of the car, grateful for cover of darkness, given her once again shameful attire. She didn’t have time to turn and look back at Penny, because by the time she’d stepped up to the sidewalk, Penny was already driving away. She stared almost forlornly after the car, before finally turning to go inside.
She stumbled across her threshold like she was in shock— or maybe like she was hungover. She was more turned on than ever after Penny’s kiss; more turned on than ever by Penny’s patient self-confidence. She could try to masturbate, but she’d tried it many times after other so-called “dreams.” She was not able to achieve release herself, manually. She wouldn’t be, it seemed, until Penny let her.
The only other thing that seemed tolerable for Hazel to do was sleep, so at last, she changed out of her chosen outfit and into modest sleep attire. She was tired enough when she pulled the covers up over herself that she suspected she’d be asleep before she knew it.
She had a feeling she would dream, really dream, that night. And if she dreamed, she’d be dreaming of Penny kissing her.