Episode 36
4. Attachment toy
Tonight, the dream felt unusually vivid. A dream of soft touches caressing his body. Normally, it felt like being buried in clouds, and he wouldn’t wake until morning, but tonight, his eyelids lifted.
The first thing Kyle saw was the open window. Then, to the side, he noticed—
‘Rosanna?’
The woman sitting in the moonlight spilling over the bedspread was unmistakably Rosanna. He thought he called out to her, but no sound escaped his lips. No matter how many times he tried, the result was the same. Rosanna remained silent as well.
‘It must be because it’s a dream.’
It made sense that his body wouldn’t move as he wanted. Kyle lay there, watching Rosanna in her nightgown. The sleeveless dress was loose, yet it somehow accentuated her figure. Without much movement, the pale moonlight revealed her silhouette through the sheer fabric.
Thankfully, everything else was cloaked in pitch darkness, obscuring the surroundings. Even in a dream, having the dormitory he shared with a roommate as the setting was embarrassing.
Rosanna’s fingers traced along his jawline, his neck, and his collarbone. Her touch was like a tickle, and as her hand moved lower, she pulled back the blanket. Until then, Kyle hadn’t anticipated what might happen next. He was startled by her actions as she slid her hand beneath the blanket.
‘Wait…’
Kyle couldn’t stop her. He couldn’t speak or move; he could only watch. Rosanna lay beside him and placed her hand on his chest. Her fingers moved across his pajama top as if they were touching bare skin. What was harder to endure was the soft sensation pressing against his arm. Each time he tried not to think about the source of the sensation, Rosanna shifted closer. Whether it was accidental or deliberate, it felt like pure torment.
Her quiet breathing buzzed in his ears.
Her touch grew bolder, caressing his abdomen and the line of his hip. Then, her hand moved lower, lifting the hem of his pajamas to settle between his thighs.
‘Ugh, ah…’
A silent groan escaped him. Rosanna licked her parted lips as she wrapped her hand around him. Each time she tightened her grip, her teeth lightly grazed her lip, sending waves of conflicting pleasure and pain through Kyle. Her teasing touches overwhelmed his senses.
With his blurred vision, he managed to glance at her. Her expression was so serene, so innocent, that it was hard to believe she was the one inflicting this humiliation.
‘Just stop, please.’
Tonight’s vivid dream had taken a turn, one Kyle couldn’t resist or control. He tried to plead through his expression, but the desperation never reached her. The grip tightening around him was startlingly real. He could feel the arousal growing, his body betraying his attempts at restraint. Her hand moved in time with his uneven breaths, gliding from the base to the sensitive tip, spreading a faint wetness that began to leak from him.
Rosanna spread the fluid over her palm, using it as lubrication. Her delicate hands, untouched by labor or hardship, moved with an expertise that felt unreal. It was hard to believe this was a dream—impossible, even—but it was the only explanation he could grasp.
‘It’s just a dream,’ he told himself.
Kyle gave in to the logic that anything could happen in a dream, letting go of his tension. A languid warmth spread through him, heightening his sensitivity. His shame burned hot, but so did the mounting pleasure, leaving him slack-jawed and breathless.
‘Rosanna… ah.’
The woman in his dream did nothing but torment him with her calculated touch. The moon had disappeared behind the clouds, plunging the room into darkness. Unable to see or hear anything but the faint rustle of sheets and the hum of her breath, his body responded all the more intensely. Through the haze, Kyle thought of myths he’d read, stories of gods visiting mortals in the dead of night. Perhaps this wasn’t so different.
Except his desire wasn’t for a god—it was for Rosanna.
Deep inside, Kyle realized he might have wanted this from the moment he began to see Rosanna as a woman. Now, freed from the chains of morality and society’s gaze, he let go of his inner turmoil. For the first time, he could move, his fingers twitching as the paralysis eased.
Kyle turned on his side and pulled Rosanna into his arms. Her softness, like holding a cloud, reminded him it was just a dream—but that didn’t matter. In this dream, they could be closer than anyone else. Almost as if they were one.
But the thought was fleeting as Rosanna quickened her movements, her hand working him with an intensity that left him gasping. His body tensed, the strain building to an unbearable peak. His vision blurred.
‘Wait, just… slower—’
With newfound strength, Kyle wrapped his hand around hers, stilling her movements. She stopped, her head resting on his shoulder as she looked up at him, her expression questioning. Her eyes… they shimmered with an otherworldly hue. They were still her familiar gray-blue, but faint streaks of crimson flickered within. Was it because this was a dream? Or was this some kind of vision? The sight was mesmerizing, yet unsettling.
His focus splintered as Rosanna resumed, her movements unrelenting. Pressing against him, her softness and urgency broke through his feeble defenses. Her deft touch pushed him past the edge, his body convulsing as the tension snapped, spilling over in a wave of release. His silent groan lingered in the air, unheard.
Even in the throes of a dream, her presence consumed him entirely, leaving him breathless and adrift.
A breeze blew in through the open window, cooling the sweat-slicked forehead where his bangs clung. The peace that followed the peak of stimulation left Kyle’s body limp and boneless.
‘It’s over now… huff, or maybe not.’
As Rosanna’s hand moved again, the manhood that had wilted sprang back to life, standing upright as if the earlier release had never happened. Kyle had no say in this. His body wasn’t his own to command; everything was in the hands of the woman perched above him, her dominance etched into every movement.
Rosanna, clearly reveling in her position, toyed with him. Her fingers kneaded his length as if molding dough, her hand softly caressing the rounded flesh beneath before forming a circle with her fingers to move up and down his shaft. Her motions, playful like a child with a new toy, left Kyle helpless. All he could do was grip the bedsheets tighter whenever waves of unbearable excitement coursed through him.
Despite the torment, a part of him didn’t want it to end. His subconscious fought to delay the inevitable release. He knew he’d wake from this dream filled with guilt, the weight of his sin pressing down on him for succumbing to a desire he couldn’t control. Yet, for now, he surrendered to the overwhelming pleasure.
Kyle’s gaze was fixed on Rosanna as she played with his body. Her teasing had no end in sight. Her nails lightly scraped along the veins of his length, her fingers pressing against the pulsing spots.
‘Guh… not there… ah… hngh.’
His face twisted in agony and ecstasy as he endured her merciless attentions. The more ruthless her touch became, the more frequently his body trembled.
‘Am I being punished?’
It felt like Rosanna was doling out retribution, punishing him for daring to conjure her into this lust-filled dream. Her delicate white hands continued their assault, gripping and stroking his engorged length with unrelenting fervor, leaving his consciousness teetering on the edge of collapse.
The relentless torment stretched on until, at last, he reached his second climax. Thick white fluid splattered onto Rosanna’s hand and her nightgown.
Unfazed, Rosanna wiped her hands on her skirt and then reached to remove her nightgown. As the pale expanse of her thighs began to appear, Kyle panicked.
‘Why are you… stop!’
The stimulation was too much. Even in a dream, the thought of seeing Rosanna’s bare body felt like a sin he couldn’t bear. Perhaps his silent plea reached her, as she paused, then broke into a playful laugh. She leaned down, her teeth grazing his skin with a teasing nip.
The sharp sensation sent a shiver racing down his spine, his neck tingling. He knew if this continued, he’d be aroused again. What was he, some kind of animal?
Just as he considered reciting a prayer to regain composure, Rosanna curled up in his arms, finally still.
‘Thank goodness.’
The only sound left was his own ragged breathing. But after a moment, he began to hear something else—a soft melody. It was a wordless hum, a soothing tune reminiscent of a nocturne. It fit the deep of night perfectly. Rosanna, humming in rhythm, gently patted his chest, just as she had when she first appeared.
Was she singing a lullaby?
The sweet melody of her humming, combined with the exhaustion from his second release, quickly blurred Kyle’s vision. He wanted to see Rosanna just a bit longer, to spend more time with her, even if only in a dream. But drowsiness overcame him, his eyelids growing heavier with each passing moment.
The last thing he saw was her lips, curved as if she were determined to enchant him completely.
“Hah… huff…”
When Kyle opened his eyes, the morning sun had already risen.
How deep had that dream been to override his habit of waking before dawn?
Panicking, Kyle sat up and checked beneath the covers. As expected, it had been a wet dream. The euphoria he’d experienced through the night came crashing down to earth, leaving him with nothing but a heavy sigh.
“Today… ha, what am I going to do?”
It was the day of his ordination interview.
The last thing he wanted was to face Bishop Johann in the worst possible state.
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