The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Sandman Stan’s Severance Sand

Introduction—Enter Sandman

The words were once written that ‘Sleep is the escape of those who fail to dream, the relief to he who cannot dream, and the opportunity for she to have her dreams come true. Everything lives in slumber, from secret ambitions, to carnal diversions. Sleep is imperfect without dreams, and we are imperfect without sleep’.

The air was dark and cold, the infinite blackness creating an inky pit from which even sound seemed helpless to escape. Above there were no stars, only night, endless and cold, soothing and yet always somehow ominous. Sandman Stan made his way past the poppy fields and along the stone pathway towards the foreboding black palace. There were very few others around as he entered the towering gates and passed through dark curtains. Glancing around, he noticed the wandering souls of the few who just recently were condemned to be lost here forever. This was a peaceful and mythical realm, where separating dreams from reality became difficult at best. The world outside knew nothing of this place, at least not any more. The eons of time and advancements in logical thinking had seen fit to all-but-destroy the acceptance and respect of locations like this.

Sandman Stan was waved forward by two of the robed guards and stood briefly before the tall oak doors, his mind constantly turning over the events that had led him here. Why was he being called before the boss, why was he coming here of all places, after a thousand years of not seeing this place and being entrusted with his duties? Most of all, he wondered, why did he have an unnerving feeling that this wasn’t good news?

“He will see you now.” One of the dark figures spoke in an overly deep tone.

Stepping into the surprisingly intimate inner office, Sandman Stan took a seat before the large table. It was pure marble and very old by all appearances. Carved into its gleaming surface was an image of feathers, hundreds and thousands of feathers. There was a clenching feeling in the very pit of Stan’s stomach that really made him reluctant to move. He sat there stiffly, waiting for ‘him’ to come in. He thought back over his job. Had he messed up something lately? Was there something he missed, some minor detail that wasn’t so minor when you really thought about it? His father had been a Sandman, and his father before him, their family holding a high tradition of excellence in the Sandman field. Neither one of his relatives had ever been called here, not after first accepting the assignment.

“Hello, Sandman Stan, it was good of you to agree to see me on such short notice.”

Stan stared ahead, his nerves pulsing with anticipation. The figure before spoke with such calm resolve and yet this was Hypnos, leader of all sleep, purveyor of all dream management, and overall powerful deity. He appeared much as Sandman Stan had imagined, young, bearded, with wings growing from his head. He was strong and friendly in appearance, but there was a crispness to his tone that only concerned Stan more than when he’d first gotten the request to be here.

“I couldn’t refuse your majesty, I only work to serve your needs.”

Hypnos looked at the Sandman. This was a dark day indeed for his empire. The control of dreams and sleep in general was in danger, the future uncertain. Much as he suspected the Sandman here had never expected to hear what he had to say, Hypnos never expected to have to say it.

“Listen, I know you’re concerned about being called in here today. Well, first you should know it has nothing to do with anything you may have done wrong. However you still have reason to be concerned.”

Sandman Stan gripped the arms of his chair tightly and noticed how even the great all-powerful Hypnos appeared worried. If he was letting something bother him, it couldn’t be good, not at all.

“Sandman Stan, I’m afraid we’re going to have to let you go. We just won’t be needing your services anymore.”

If it was at all possible for the room and in fact the whole palace to get darker, it seemed to do just that for Stan. He shrank back a little in his chair, finally taking the breath he had been holding. He looked down at the table and all the feathers, ornately creating a bed before him. Peering up into Hypnos’ eyes, Stan asked all he could.

“Can I ask, why?”

Even Hypnos now looked down into the feathers, speaking as if from someplace else. “You see Stan, we just aren’t needed too much anymore. Over the last millennia, mankind has made many advancements. Not only has this led to a general loss of respect and honor for our kind but they simply don’t need us as much anymore. With the modern pharmaceutical industry pumping out new sleep aides all the time, well... you can just see how falling asleep is no longer an issue.”

Someplace deep inside, Sandman Stan ached at hearing this out loud. He’d known for many years that his job duties were constantly getting lighter, he just never thought it would come to something like this. “Sir, your majesty, what about dreams? I’ve always taken great pride in being an excellent dream weaver.”

Hypnos now paced behind the table, his dark cloak spreading out behind him. “Yes, you have proven yourself incredibly adept at not only weaving dreams for individuals but inspiring new dreams within them. However, you must admit, the medication on the market today can create dreams even we haven’t thought of. That stuff is seriously demented, fantasies and nightmares even my best employees could never stir up. No, I’m afraid it’s just time to cut our losses and do away with the Sandman position. I really am sorry to have to tell you this.”

There was little fight left in Sandman Stan. When Hypnos told you you were no longer needed, you didn’t argue the point. Everything he said made perfect sense. Staring at his lap, Stan replied. “So, am I done now or should I finish out the week?”

At this Hypnos actually seemed to smile. Walking over to a small side table, nearly hidden in the shadows, the great and powerful deity pulled open a drawer and withdrew a small black bag. “Actually, Stan, I would like you to work one last week. And to help make that last week a little bit more rewarding, I have a special severance package for you.”

Dropping the bag on the table, the feathers within the marble undulated and gently floated it across to Sandman Stan. As he picked it up and looked inside, he appeared slightly confused. “Sand?”

Hypnos smiled. “Very special sand, I guess you could call it a premium blend. I’ve had R&D working on it for a number of centuries, but sad to say I guess it won’t ever get the exposure it so rightfully deserves.”

Sandman Stan sifted through the grains. It felt completely normal to him, same consistency, same weight, almost indiscernible from his standard stuff. “May I ask what it does?”

Taking a seat opposite Stan, the great and mighty Hypnos for a moment appeared to be on his level. He held the same curiosity Stan did behind his eyes and his lips curled into a knowing grin. “That is for you to find out. All I can say is that this sand unlike your typical variety, will not only drift the sleeper into peaceful undisturbed slumber, it will do much more. This sand has the ability to not just give them dreams of what they’ve always wanted, it also can make those dreams come true. It’s a true pinnacle of my reign here.” The deity paused and looked solemnly at the table. “And it seems a fitting way to end your services.”

For several moments each was silent, and Sandman Stan had no idea what he should say. This was a time he never thought would come, the day he found out his term was coming to an end. Closing the bag and placing it alongside the other on his belt, Stan finally stood and bowed before Hypnos. “I will serve you well with this.” He said, respectfully.

As the Sandman left, Hypnos folded his arms and smiled. “Try and have fun with it. I know things are tough out there but you can still enjoy your job.” He wasn’t exactly sure the world was ready for the severance sand but that was part of the fun, maybe in some warped way this would not only change the way the Sandman treated the world, but the way the world treated the Sandman.

Passing through the dark curtains and beneath the towering gates, Stan took one last look back at the black palace of sleep. Retirement was going to be tough on him, he wasn’t ready. But the least he could do was, as Hypnos suggested, have fun with his last week.