Monday, November 17, 2014

My Dreams Trigger Me

 I'm spelunking in old emails to find dreams from before. This one triggered me for a couple weeks. That's the longest amount of time I've ever been triggered for. It might trigger other trans men for body dysphoria, but it isn't particularly triggering for me to read it, just to have dreamed it. Names have been changed or amended to protect mostly my friends. Also, exact place names have been edited out.
The dream started in this little bar/restaurant I know in Chicago.  I was sitting at a table, drinking one and eating some pommes frites, waiting for a friend (it wasn't clear who) when a girl came up to my table. She was about 26 with dark wavy hair. She had a gorgeous smile. I automatically recognized her.
She said something about seeing me from the other room and thinking she recognized me. I told her who I was. I was a little confused because we already knew each other, but I didn't say anything. She extended her hand and said, "I'm A____."
That was shit. I knew it was shit. "You're B_____. Stop giving me your bar name." She looked furious. She slapped me across the face and walked away. I forgot about my friend and followed her.
I walked through the door to the next room and was in the first apartment I shared with my roommate. It was huge. B____ was sitting on the futon watching TV and petting Calvin (a cat, named after the philosopher). I asked her why she was so upset. She should have known I'd recognize her.
Calvin jumped off of her lap and onto my shoulder. He nuzzled against my cheek and scratched a tooth against my glasses. I shooed him away and got a claw in the back of my shoulder. I realized I was probably bleeding a little, but I didn't really care.
B____ was crying. I sat down to comfort her. I started to put my arm around her, but she wasn't there anymore.
My shoulder really hurt. I walked toward the bathroom in my bedroom to survey the damage. When I got to my bedroom, it was gone. The door was there, but there was just a wall beyond it. I turned to go to a different bedroom (there were three bedrooms with baths en suite), but I wasn't in the apartment anymore.
I was in a parking lot. It was mostly deserted. It was windy. There was rain spattering, though it magically did not spatter my glasses. I recognized it as one of the parking lots I used to walk through on the way to and from work.
"I was wondering when you'd show up," said a vaguely Australian voice from behind me.
I turned around, truthfully expecting to find an old friend who moved to Australia over half a decade ago. It didn't sound like her voice, but the accent sounded very American-transplanted-to-Australia to me.
Instead of her, there was a blond woman. I didn't instantly recognize her.
"I'm sorry. I was expected?"
She motioned for me to follow and I did. We walked to the theater-in-the-round at my alma mater. It was deserted. There was a chair in the middle of the stage.
I sat. Calvin ran by, chased by Hermes (another cat).
"Good boy. You need a shave."
I looked up at her and caught her eye. I suddenly knew who she was. I felt a little bit lost, a little bit scared, slightly embarrassed, extremely turned on. I croaked out, "Yes."
My friend VN, who is of course involved in a shaving scene, brought out a stool, some shaving cream, and a straight razor. Somehow a water basin appeared out of nowhere. VN started sharpening the razor, which didn't take long, and she shot him a look. He scowled and left, probably disappointed that he didn't get to stay for a shaving scene.
She started lathering my face and neck. Slowly and gently. I could smell the shaving cream. I could taste some on my lips. She was done lathering and picked up the straight razor. She stepped behind me and pulled my head back by my hair, roughly, but not particularly hard. I felt the straight razor firmly at my neck. I could feel my artery pulsing beneath it, threatening to slit itself by pumping harder and expanding farther and farther. My toes curled.
She made quick work of my neck, my head tucked away in her cleavage, her scent overtaking the smell of the shaving cream.
She walked in front of me and made quicker work of my face. Never once cutting me. Never once looking away from my eyes. I smiled as she applied a towel. She brought her face close to admire her handy work. Her face was almost touching mine. My lips were millimeters from her ear lobe. I could feel the peach fuzz on her face tickling the now-sensitive skin on mine. And then there was contact.
I moaned and closed my eyes. I was suddenly very sure this was a dream. I was scared that closing my eyes meant she would not be there when I opened them again. I opened them to the sound of the ocean. The beach was deserted. Just me in a chair. I was looking out at the Atlantic. I know this because the beach is one I went to with my parents in North Carolina. I looked around for them, but they weren't there.
The chair began sinking and I jumped off of it and fell into the water with my clothes on.
"Just take them off. We'll get you dried off."
"We're in public."
"Nobody is here. Nobody will see."
I was relieved to see that she was back. She held out her hand to help me up and I undressed. Slowly. As I undressed, I felt strange. Because my body was different, but I couldn't figure out how. I spread my clothes out as I took them off. I kept looking at her to make sure she was still there. My skin felt clammy. She had a towel slung over her shoulder. Once I was naked, she snapped at me and pointed at her feet. I instinctively knelt as she dried my hair.
At some point, she finished and lifted my face with her fingers at my chin. She pulled me to my feet. She moved in for a kiss, but stopped short. My breath grew ragged. My cock stiffened in anticipation. I focused on her breath fighting against mine, pushing against each other. She lightly kissed my lower lip. I tried to kiss her back, but she pulled away too quickly. I heard a frustrated grunt before I realized it was me. She was walking away from me.
I followed her, but the air was so thick and she was going so much faster than I was. Eventually, I lost sight of her. I found a peeling wooden bench and took a seat. I started stroking my cock. The back of the bench fell away and I fell back. I landed on a bed I didn't recognize. In a room I didn't recognize.
"What are you doing?"
I was relieved to see her. I slid to the floor.
"Good boy."
She rubbed the back of my head. We looked out the window. All there was was a night sky. The moon was huge, but not full. The stars were bright.
She knelt beside me and drew me into a kiss. This one was deeper, more insistent. I felt her tongue in my mouth. I felt my tongue on her teeth. She bit me and I whimpered, but I didn't break the kiss. I knew better. She pulled me up to the bed and I realized that she was now naked as well. She reached for my cock. She stroked it a couple times. She placed it near her cunt.
I was confused. I was scared. I was relatively sure this was all happening too quickly.
"I know."
She said the words, but her hand was insistent, I sank into her and felt nothing but a slight pressure against my groin. I pulled out and sank into her again. Again, I felt nothing. I pulled out and looked down to see a strap-on. I pulled the dildo out of the harness and freed my cock. I sank it back into her. I felt nothing. I pulled back out and the dildo was back in the harness. She sat up.
"That's why this could never work. You can never feel."
"I can feel."
I took the dildo out of the harness again. She reached down to grab my cock and I heard the squeak of skin against hard, wet rubber.
"You can't."
I started panicking. I leaned over to kiss her and she turned her head away. She pushed me back and onto the floor.
"I can feel."
I looked down to see nothing. There wasn't even a dildo in a harness anymore.
"I can. I'll figure it out."
"It's too late."
She walked through the door. I chased her, but found that the door led me to a dark room. She was sitting in an arm chair, faced away from me.
"Why is what I feel important? It never has been before."
She shook her head.
I woke up.

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