Prompt of the Week - Week 4

 Everything was ready. Her dream journal by her side and the confirmation symbol drawn into the palm of her hand, Ruth had prepared everything so that the odds of her finally breaking into the lucrative market of lucid dreaming were maximized. Soon enough she’d be using the power of her mind to achieve her own creative apotheosis; no more need for expensive workshops or spending hours trying to come up with ideas, she would “merely” harness the very power of her subconscious in order to create entire worlds for her to shape and mold at her leisure!

For several months at that point, the young woman had been writing on her dream journal religiously, every day adding something new, even if it was seemingly minor or inconsequential. Over time, she began identifying patterns when reading back what happened during her nights, elements that cropped up enough times to be considered frequent, even concepts that guided her dreams towards particular endpoints. Had she not bothered to keep a detailed record of all of them, they’d just be disparate bullet points that would never truly make sense, but written down as they were, they made up a complex network of connections that allowed Ruth to truly understand how her dreamscape operated. And understanding was the first step towards controlling.

Everything was in place. She knew all the tricks, remembered all the telltale signs that she was dreaming, even made sure to repeat the sentence “I will have a lucid dream” over and over as her eyes closed and her mind drifted off. Her conviction, she hoped, would be enough to break the barriers of probability and shunt her into the state she so desired… though this did make falling asleep surprisingly difficult.

An hour passed, and nothing happened; Ruth was still on her bed, still snuggled up in her blankets, but nothing was going on. In that moment, she thought that maybe she’d been a bit too excited about the prospect of achieving her goal, and that it might’ve actually affected her ability to even rest properly. This was fine, not like it was the first time they’d had issues falling asleep because they were buzzing too hard, just meant she had to take a few more deep breaths and consciously try to calm herself down. She still kept the elements in her head, as well as the command on the tip of her tongue, but allowed her previously-tense muscles to relax and parts of her focused mind to wander just enough for her consciousness to melt into the sheets around her, allowing her to drift off into a peaceful, slumbering state.

For about five minutes. Then she woke up.

Or did she?

This was always the problem with Ruth; eager as she was to control her dreams by any means possible, it was difficult for her to tell if anything after they closed their eyes happened to be reality or a figment of her imagination. The very few times she had achieved a state of lucidity without coming back into the waking world had been brief periods lasting nothing more than a handful of seconds, usually broken right after realizing it was a dream to begin with; still, the whole point of the long-term exercise was to ensure that she’d be able to take advantage of those few opportunities whenever possible, even when they were quite likely nothing more than her being actually awake.

First things first: confirmation. The easiest way to check if she was sleeping was to see if she could still breathe even after closing her nostrils with her hand. Just the fact that Ruth was aware of this made her wary enough to not want to go ahead and try, lest she be disappointed by the lack of any dreamscape around her, but after so many missed opportunities beforehand, the young woman wasn’t about to throw any more into the gutter. She brought her hand to her face, plugging her nose and then taking a deep breath.

Nothing. She was awake.

Ruth sighed, turning around in bed and forgetting about ever getting it done that night. Unable to sleep properly and chasing phantoms where there were none, the prospective dreamer conceded to reality and decided to just try and get her eight hours, much like any other night. Unfortunately, it seemed like even after her resignation, her body had other ideas; she spent hours and hours twirling and turning and just generally being restless, unable to find any position that was remotely comfortable. Ruth began thinking that she was spending more time trying to try to fall asleep than anything else, and with a frustrated grunt, she threw her covers off of herself and resolved to let the cold do… something. Wasn’t clear exactly what she thought it would do, but it seemed like as good an idea as any other at that point.

What Ruth failed to understand was why it was still so dark. She had gone to bed at around one in the morning, and though her awareness of time passing was always a bit off after the sheets were pulled up, she was quite certain that either the sun should be coming up or the sky should at least be the tiniest bit brighter. That fact alone made her eyes widen, only for the rest of her rational brain to step in and curb her enthusiasm; this wasn’t anything she’d seen before in her dreams, therefore it was most likely just her being… awake.

Still, it was worth a shot.

Her hand slowly rose to her nose for a second time, Ruth fully expecting her airways to be blocked… only to carry on breathing like nothing was happening even after clamping down on her nose with her index and thumb. She lay there, breathing, knowing that she shouldn’t be capable of doing so, while her spirits rose higher with each second that passed. Ruth knew that was it; she was finally lucid dreaming!

But… calm. Every other time that had happened it all came tumbling down a few moments after realizing it, courtesy of excitement getting the better of her. It was imperative that she take a methodical, analytical approach to her dream, lest it crash and burn around her. To that end, she relaxed and allowed her hands to fall by her side, while her eyes were fixated on the ceiling above.

What to do?

Obviously, it was important to keep any modifications in the realm of the plausible; every source of information on the practice was adamant that attempting to stretch one’s suspension of disbelief too hard was often enough to make the brain realize that something was terribly off about the whole thing and jettison itself back into consciousness. So no superhero antics, no literally shaping the world in her image, and certainly not any of the lurid, lewd thoughts that sometimes floated by behind her eyes.

… alright, maybe a few of those lewd thoughts.

It was hard to ascertain what counted as “too much”, after all; her own mind had refused to maintain a lucid state like that for more than a few seconds before, and yet Ruth could feel the minutes passing while nothing happened. Perhaps the second she tried something, anything, exercised her power in a way that altered the world in any significant way, shape or form, then it would all be over; or maybe, just maybe, this was a special occasion, and all of that dream journal-keeping had finally paid off.

Well, only one real way to find out!

It was likely she’d only get one change before her ability to maintain the dream was strained to the point where it broke, so Ruth had to be extremely careful about what she did. Quite literally anything could be too much, hence the need to pick tiny, inconsequential details that would allow her to keep on modifying the world without her brain trying to pick apart the inconsistencies too much; things had to remain plausible, after all, even if they could rapidly veer into the absurd.

It was for this reason that when she blinked, her breasts were about thrice as large as they had been a moment before.

Now, if Ruth needed any confirmation that she was indeed in a state of lucid dreaming, this was it; looking down at herself, only to have most of her body blocked from sight by a pair of tits so large they began spilling onto her sides, she could only imagine what her head must be like, trying to come up with a reasonable excuse for the sudden growth burst. The dream hadn’t collapsed yet, so she was still clear to go far as she knew!

Obviously, though, Ruth couldn’t just stop and frisk herself, it was possible that arousal might be a bit too much for her poor mind to handle while also trying to keep up her private dreamscape-cum-simulation. Didn’t stop her from admiring her new curves up top, and before she knew it, her unconscious self had decided to “rectify” this discrepancy and try to equalize her proportions… by making her just as bottom-heavy.

It was quite the surprise, considering how Ruth didn’t think of that herself; never having been one for butts or thighs, the fact that she somehow managed to rip her PJs apart when her legs packed on enough soft flesh to tear through the fabric left her flabbergasted and unable to react. Was her body under her control at all? Or was her subconscious just as much a player in her little games as she herself was?

It was time to test that.

Getting up from her fake bed, Ruth was surprised by how heavy and unwieldy her body was, far more than would be expected; then again, she had never really gotten into lucid dreaming in any big way, so maybe that was just how things worked? Regardless, the young woman stumbled and waddled her way to the nearest mirror, finding it to be just as distorted as expected, a consequence of being in a dream world. Content that everything was going according to plan, Ruth snapped her fingers, unthinking, and gave herself some brand new clothes, something new and fresh and just tight-fitting enough to show off her new curves, really. Wasn’t too much, just a low-cut blouse and a pair of pants that were this close to cutting off circulation to her lower body, the usual.

Marching out of the house, she was met with a dark and silent world, lit only by the oddly-misshapen moon above her head. This was also easily solvable, though how exactly Ruth didn’t think she might be pushing her luck was anyone’s guess. In truth, seeing herself achieve every size goal she’d held in her entire life had quite the effect on the young woman’s psyche, who assumed that, since she’d managed to lucid dream once, then doing it again in the future should be far easier going forward. In that moment, she decided to just see how far she could go, ostensibly as a means of testing the limits of her imagination, while in reality most of her just wanted an excuse to go completely wild somewhere without any repercussions. If it crumbled, she could visit it the next time she slept.

If it didn’t, well…

One snap later and night turned to day, surprisingly warm and toasty, inviting anyone outdoors to head to the nearest body of water for a quick swim. Surprisingly enough, her dreamscape was populated by a large crowd, far more numerous than her real hometown could provide, all of them featureless and unable to be distinguished from one another. They did not matter, Ruth thought to herself, they were just there to serve as pawns in her machinations. Licking her lips, the young woman revelled in that revelation, wondering just what exactly he could make all those “people” do while she was in charge.

With everything in there being controlled by her force of will and limited only by whatever her mind could conjure, it would be disappointing that the extent of Ruth’s depravity effectively boiled down to having a small entourage of worshippers all singing her praises when she walked down the street, sashaying and strutting her stuff towards a group of people that didn’t really exist. On occasion, she would add more onto her body, giving herself a few extra cup sizes or handfuls of ass, not bothering with keeping any sane or reasonable size; with her clothes able to adapt to any demand made of them, and her mobility entirely unaffected by whatever weight she strapped to herself, it was no wonder that Ruth, already high on her own accomplishments, ended up becoming more breast- and thighflesh than person, wobbling aggressively and sloshing loudly whenever a single step was taken. Dozens of her created people followed her in the middle of the street, cars swerving around and parking just so the individuals inside could join the parade, a curious phenomenon that Ruth didn’t recall asking for.

Upon reaching the local lake, there were hundreds more people lavishing love and attention upon her than her town had population, and soon enough they were hard at work preparing the whole area for the arrival of their rightful queen. A whole banquet materialized out of nowhere, while a manor had begun construction on the small hill overlooking the body of water. Nothing really made sense about it, but for Ruth that’s exactly what made it so wonderful; it didn’t matter if it didn’t make sense, so long as she wanted it to happen. Dismissing her supplicants, she chose to make the best out of her trip to the lake by turning the water into something a bit more suitable to what she was feeling like at that point.

Contrary to what she initially expected, it seemed as if her mind had a mind all of its own, filling in the gaps whenever Ruth herself forgot to write in the details. Perhaps the most curious change of all was that her breasts, already down to her waist and, by all means, too heavy for her to move around, were obviously very full of the kind of creamy, sweet filling that she never once produced in reality. Not only that, but simply knowing that made the thought of filling up even more utterly irresistible, to the point where less-than-impure thoughts were beginning to surface that Ruth didn’t really know how to deal with; those people weren’t real, and yet the idea of consuming them for nourishment made her feel ever-so-slightly uneasy.

Thus, why not kill two birds with one stone? Settling into the water, she ordered two nearby figures to join her and then “milk her dry”, knowing that before they even got halfway started she’d already be full up again, a prediction that ended up not only being right, but also severely underestimating how productive her literal dream tits were. In seconds, their inner bounty had spread all across the surface of the lake, displacing the water and seeping into the depths below, replacing every ounce of fluid with her own milky production. It was hard to tell if it was the dream logic acting up or just the rules she created being that exaggerated, but rather than the “hours”-long affair she hoped it would be, her milking session successfully filled the lake up in under ten minutes, overflowing from its natural borders and giving her worshippers something to drink.

In a few short moments, it all went to hell. One second Ruth was perfectly in control, and in the next the crowd was turning into reflections of her. Gorging on her milk, the faceless multitude began to develop assets as overblown as hers, tits, ass, cock, balls, doubling and tripling and multiplying on themselves while each individual descended into either mindless self-exploration or found the nearest “person” to lose themselves with. Much as Ruth tried to control it, none of them seemed to listen, with even her two attendant milkers deciding they’d rather shove their faces onto her nipples and suck them dry than continue to work as instructed. Everything around her was quite literally an orgy of self-debasement and debauchery, with some of the “people” doing things that were better left not thought about.

Ruth was so stunned by the sudden change in events that it took her a few moments to realize that it made perfect sense, given that they were still being controlled by moon logic. Knowing that it was time to put an end to it, she willed herself back to reality…

… only for nothing to happen.

Again and again Ruth attempted to wake up, using every trick in the book and several that weren’t, up until she gave up and resorted to pinching herself, hoping that physical pain would help her free herself from her self-inflicted bonds. As panic mounted and the young woman looked around her, she was terrified to see that the previously-faceless mob had begun to take on the faces of those people she actually knew in real life; so many were complete strangers, but that one was absolutely the local baker surrounded by a crowd of hyper-tittied herms, while both people sucking on her own tits were workers at the local fast food joint.

None of it made sense, not even from the perspective of dream logic. Just what was going on?

Pinching, shouting, begging, nothing worked; her breasts were being abused to such a degree that it was becoming harder and harder to stave off a climax. Nothing she did broke through the barrier and brought her back to reality, and as the confusing mess of carnal pleasure around her rose in intensity as more people joined seemingly from nowhere, Ruth, in desperation, brought both hands to her nose and forced her brain to realize that she shouldn’t be able to breathe, hoping it it would break her out.

But it didn’t.

Because she couldn’t breathe with her nose plugged.