Chapter 5

In which dreams are remembered

I woke to the sound of waves crashing against a rocky shore. Or was it thunder? The closer I wandered towards consciousness the louder the roar, but I felt as though I were trying to swim to the surface through gelatin. No headache, mouth wasn’t dry, and the sounds didn’t make the back of my eyes scream, so, nope, not hung over. I dared open my eyelids, but all I saw was blackness; still nighttime. No, that wasn’t right, it was too dark to be night. What. Where? Deep breath.

Only one explanation, I’d died of embarrassment last night. Or was it this evening?

The crashing waves turned into music. That was a real surprise. The reason finally dawned on me, there were head phones on my ears. Just enough pressure to hold them in place.

Fully awake, I hoped, the outline of a sleep mask pressed on my forehead and against my cheeks just below my eyes. OK, headphones, blindfold - what else?

My mouth was closed around something almost-but-not-quite round that held my tongue down I couldn’t explore the intruder. Enough was enough. I rolled over and tried to rip the accessories off my face and out of mouth. Well, I gave it a good old college try but was rewarded with, maybe, two inches of movement all around.

Whatever was holding me in place held my arms out and my legs were spread so wide I thought I was imitating a Thanksgiving turkey wishbone. Nothing so tight that caused any pain, but tight enough to convince me I was going nowhere without some help. Despite the flash of the question, what the hell is going on? my mind was calm, almost as though I woke up like this every morning.

“You’re all right, Michael,” a voice spoke through the headphones. “Give us a minute and we’ll take care of everything.” Debbie.

The headphones disappeared and so did the blindfold. The room, wherever it was, was not quite dark, which saved me from having to squint through harsh light. I jerked my arms again with the same result as earlier. I still couldn’t speak, but, obviously I could listen.

“Michael,” this time it was Nala, “you passed out in the tub last night while we were try8ing to help you clean up after messing your diaper.” Her voice was soft and had an ethereal quality, not like her mother’s voice at all.

“Oh, and what a mess it was, Michael!” Debbie’s voice came from the other side of the bed, so I turned my head that way.

Not that it did much good. Flat on my back and pillow under my head made seeing much other than the ceiling difficult. Raising my head helped, but my neck and shoulders tired in a few seconds.

“Stay calm, Michael, while we explain…things…to you. OK?” Debbie again. She didn’t sound angry so I relaxed as much as I could. To be honest, my shoulders and thighs were becoming uncomfortable with the constant stretch caused by whatever was binding me.

I tried to nod my agreement, then Nala stroked my cheek.

“You passed out in the bathtub, Michael,” Debbie continued, “and while we tried to get you out of it you became wild, erratic, almost violent.”

A pause in the narrative.

“When you finally ran out of steam,” Nala picked up the story, still stroking my face and hair, “we had a terrible time cleaning you up and getting you into bed. We didn’t want you to hurt yourself or us, so we tied you down and put the gag in you mouth to make sure you didn’t bite or swallow your tongue.. I’m sorry we had to do that, but it was for your own good.”

“And for our protection,” Debbie finished by adding, “he music and sleep mask were just to help you rest when you woke up.”

I tried asking for them to take out the gag, but all that came out were nonsensical syllables.

“Do you think he is OK, now, Mama?”

“Probably, dear, but let’s see what he has to say before we let him up. It wouldn’t do to let him hurt himself or us after all we’ve been through since his…accident.” My eyes locked with Debbie’s and a chill scratched its way down my spine. “Does that sound fair to you, Michael?”

The only way I could respond was to nod, and that’s what I did several times. My jaw was not used to being forced open and I would have agreed to almost anything to get this gag out of my mouth.

Nala’s fingers tenderly traced my lips then lifted my head just enough for Debbie to dig in and unfasten the strap that prevented me from just spitting the damn thing out.

“It’s OK, baby, try to relax your jaw so we can get this nasty old thing out.” Nala’s voice distracted me just enough that she could remove the plug.

My lips, dry yet almost tacky, wanted to cling to the soft plastic, but once it no longer invaded my mouth I groaned with pleasure.

“Oh, Mama, maybe we should put it back. He seems to have really enjoyed it.”

Back? No way. My mouth would not close properly to form words so I shook my head repeatedly and as emphatically as I could. NO. That thing was worse than the earphones and blindfold put together."

“Don’t tease the boy,” Debbie said as though speaking with clients in her pharmacy. “He seems agitated, again, so we’ll keep him secured a while longer until we can be certain he won’t have another fit.” To me she said, “I’ll get you something drink, Michael. Water? Coffee? Tea? Juice?”

I managed, “Water, please.” Even to me it sounded like wawa pees.

From my limited point of view I was not completely certain Debbie left the room, but, since I had no reason to believe otherwise, I took it for granted she left and would return soon. Nala sat on the bed beside me, and, once more, stroked my face. Oh, her hands were so gentle.

“OK, baby, I know you have a lot of questions, so, please, be quiet while I tell you what you did last night.” The story was short and to the point. Apparently, after messing the badly fitting diaper, Nala and her mother tried to help me clean up, but I passed out and almost hit my head on the ceramic edge of the tub.

Debbie was convinced I had had too much to drink and, combined with the stress of the accident, I passed out and only the fact that they had both been holding on to me kept me from injuring myself. After stripping me and properly scrubbing my butt and the rest of me, they maneuvered me to a bedroom and, while putting me into bed, I half woke up and became agitated. Rather than call for an ambulance or the police, they tied me to the bed, gagged and blindfolded me. That was twelve hours ago, a period during which they kept watch over me in shifts. Made no sense to me, but I was in no position to argue or even question.

Nala combed her graceful fingers through my hair and mater-of-factly said, “Know what? You have a really cute butt.”

“Nala.” Debbie’s voice was amused rather than chastising. “Don’t embarrass the poor boy. He’s been through enough as it is. Here, give him a drink.”

From where I laid, I could see Debbie hand her daughter what looked like an over sized baby bottle complete with an adult-sized rubber nipple that I did not think would fit in my mouth. Nala moved the contraption to my lips.

“Open up, baby. We don’t want you dehydrating,” she said in a very motherly tone, gently pressing the nipple against my lips.

When I resisted, she said, “You are in no condition to hold the bottle, and the nipple will prevent you from drinking too fast and choking yourself.” One of her fingers wandered over my lips, and they involuntarily parted. The nipple slipped right in. “Good boy.”

It was fat but not long enough to choke me. Using my tongue, I pressed the soft material against the roof of my mouth and a stream of lukewarm water dribble out of it. I figured the nipple was made of silicone because latex would have been a lot stiffer. Coffee would have been better, but I was thirsty and this was the only source available, so I drank.

It was not as bad an experience as I expected. Nala continued to stroke my hair or my face the entire time while tossing in the occasional, “My that’s a thirsty baby, “ or “Good boy, you’ll feel better real soon.” The bottle must have held close to two quarts because I couldn’t finish half of it. I did feel a lot better, though. In retrospect I wonder why I did not wonder about all those baby and boy remarks. At the time, though, I wallowed in the attention and sucked as much of the delicious water as I dared.

In minutes, though it seemed like a pleasant eternity, I nodded off. I dreamt of angels come to earth to watch over and protect me. They were Black angels with white wings tipped with black. I could not quite see their faces, but Debbie and Nala’s faces kept appearing, mother and daughter angels. And I heard them talking, sometimes directly to me, but mostly to each other and, maybe, someone else. Were my two angels discussing my behavior with God?!

In my dream I was doomed so I paid attention to what the two angels were saying. Well I paid as much attention as anyone can from within a dream.

“Don’t worry, he’s out and won’t be waking up for at least an hour, maybe two.”

“That’s good. I could use a couple of z’s myself.”

“Mama?”

“Yes, sweetheart?”

“Can we keep him?”

Keep him? Who – me? I don’t think so.

“We’ll see, Nala, but first, see if he needs a diaper change.”

“Yes, Mamma.” The cover was swished away from on top of me and an ever-so-gentle breeze brushed my bare skin.

Bare skin? Was this part of the dream?

A warm hand brushed the hair on my belly than pulled what had to be a plastic diaper far enough to let that breeze wend its way over my cock and balls. It felt so nice, almost as nice as the angel’s fingers groping around down there. It’s just a dream – right? Enjoy it while I can.

Enjoy I did. My cock responded to the groping and grew rigid. I wanted to open my eyes and see my angel taking such great care of me.

“My, what a big boy you are, Mikie. So different from last night.”

Now, that wasn’t a caring motherly voice, not one bit. But it was just a dream, so who cared whether it was a loving mother or a lust crazed angel? I sure did not and bucked my hips up and down. I’d do more, but for some reason my arms and legs were immobilized. Who cared? It was just a dream, and a damn fine one, at that.

When I woke up, sunlight streamed into my bedroom. Yes, it really was my bedroom. I was in my pajamas, at least what passed for pajamas-boxers and a t shirt. I felt rested and ready for what the day might toss my way.

Wait, what day was it? Rolling over I grabbed my phone from the night stand and turned it on. Saturday, the 11th, just as it was supposed to be. In that case, time for a morning cup of black coffee and some thoughts about dreams.

End