Dream: The Tower of a Hundred Steps LUCID *sexual*

Dream 20030801 6:00 AM

Note: This dream contains some graphic descriptions of gay sex. If you’re too young to read it, or if it would offend your sensibilities, please don’t click on the cut-link.

All that being said, this is one of the coolest lucid dreams I’ve had in a long time. I got to accomplish an incubated goal, which is very rare for me.

A little backstory on this dream. The Tower of a Hundred Steps is a visualization meditation that I made up. It works off the basic geometry of a magic circle, adding the “walking down steps” mechanism of trance deepening. I often do this meditation while doing the treadmill at the gym, or other body-busy-mind-vacant tasks. The visualization is of a huge circular tower with one big room at the top and four spiralling staircases. The room at the top has portals into each of the four Kingdoms of the Elements, and the visualization proceeds through casting a traditional circle, and then walking down one of the staircases. Each staircase passes around the entire circle of the tower in a hundred steps, and has three windows each looking out to a different element (in order) and then a door at the base that leads to one of the elements. For example, the South stair (Fire) goes down 25 steps and then a pause at the West window (Water) then 25 more, and a pause at the North window (Earth) and then 25 more and a pause at the East window (Air) and after the final 25 steps, emerging through the doorway to the Kingdom of Fire.

When I’m trying to incubate a dream, cause myself to dream of a particular place or thing, I have a tiny book that I write it down in. I wrote in the dream book this morning about wanting to go to the Tower of a Hundred Steps. Dream incubation is often dicey for me, but this one succeeded very well. I particularly want to visit my mediation spots (like the Tranquil Garden, the Chapel of Dissolution, the Mountain, the Streamside Tree) to strengthen them as mental forms, and give depth and power to my visualizations.

Gestalt dream theory tells us that every character in a dream represents an aspect of the dreamer’s personality; so a dream with lots of people represents a very fragmented state of mind. When there are more people in a lucid dream, I tend to be more scattered; when I am by myself or with one other, I’m more focused. Twice in this dream I became self-aware enough to narrow down the fragments.

This is a WILD – Wake Initiated Lucid Dream. That means that the hallucinatory dream imagery followed immediately after wakefulness, without a period of sleep between. I don’t get these often, but they’re always cool when I do. There are several references to waking up, but I don’t actually wake until the very end – these are false awakenings, which are just a phenomenon of dreamland.

The dream begins: I’m lying in bed, and have an image of small clean-looking text in front of me. I don’t remember what it says, but it is largeish lettering, like a handbill or flyer in a precise, no-nonsense font like Arial. As I watch it, it begins to flicker and shift (a frequent dream sign for me) and I watch it closely. After a couple of mix-ups in English, with words and letters being juxtaposed and rearranged, it shifts into something that looks like very delicate script Cyrillic. The type began as a standard black, but is now a dark blue-green. Once I’m sure that I’m well immersed in the dream world, I open my (dream) eyes and sit up with a sort of “Ah-hah!” feeling. I kick my foot up and connect with the wall above where my head is, and watch as the foot just fades into the wall; this confirms to me that I’m definitely dreaming.

I walk out of the bedroom and into the living room. Chris is here, and other people as well. Someone from Chris’s family is coming to visit, or may already be here, and the house is messy. I feel bad, because he’s stressing out. I walk to the front door, and the gauze curtain that is always over the sidelight window is missing; I look for it, and find it in a pile on the floor. I look around, and start tidying up, helping Chris get the house in order. I pick up the beige comforter, and begin folding it – there are some nails in it, from when it had been hung over the window at the condo, and I take them out as I fold and hold them in my mouth.

Then, without apparent transition, the scene shifts. As so often happens, my imagination turns sexual, and there are a number of hot guys here, just kind of milling around, most with their shirts off. It seems like a small party. There is one guy who is brought to me, and he’s a sex pig – he is wearing leather chaps and a harness, and I am told (or just understand) that he’s willing to do whatever I want, mine to use and abuse for my sexual fun. He is thin, smooth-bodied and young looking, with pale skin and dark hair. He lies down on his side, drawing his leg up, showing me his asshole – it looks a little red, like it’s been worked hard recently, and is probably sore. I push my thumb into it a little, just exploring, and then grab hold of his balls, which are hanging down behind his legs. I grip them in one hand, making a circle out of my finger and thumb, and with the other hand tap them fairly hard. He begins to suck on my cock.

I decide that this isn’t going to get me where I wanted to go. This is an unusually self-aware realization for me in a dream state – sex usually takes over and I lose myself in it. I get up, and go into a bathroom and wash my hands, separating myself from the sexual action (and focusing on my hands, which tends to focus dream attention – plus also “washing my hands” of the situation.) I feel like my hands are dirty from playing with the pig boy, and I wish that I had something to clean them with; I don’t see soap, but then see a bottle of alcohol. I open the top and pour some of the alcohol into my hand, and rub them together. I realize that this might be something that I can use to clear out some of the extraneous guys in the house… I pour alcohol into my cupped left hand and walk out of the bathroom. I look at one of the guys, shirtless with sandy-brown hair – and I dip the fingers of my right hand into the alcohol and flick it at him, sprinkling him with it. I say, “Fade away.” He laughs, seeming remarkably solid. I tell him no, I mean it, this is my dream and he’s going to fade away. I push him face-first into a wall, and push on his back until he fades into the wall and vanishes. I dispose of the rest of the guys, four or five – I don’t remember having to push on them, I just stop recognizing them and they just kind of dissipated. I am trying to reduce the diffusion of my personality, so that I can focus on my mission.

I see Chris, and he runs out of the (now empty) room, down a hallway. I chase him through several rooms, all with pewter-blue walls and cream-white trim. He seems to always disappear around a far corner just ahead of me each time. I finally realize that this is turning into a chases-through-rooms sequence, and I stop myself, turn a corner, and find him.

The dream shifts, and I’m in a space with a lot of people again. These all seem to be my soapmaking friends, and we are in a big public-type building like a convention center or hotel meeting room. I wander around, trying to figure out how to get to the Tower. Finally, I see Judy J., and ask her if she knows the way; she appears to know exactly what I’m talking about, and leads me off down a hallway.

We get to a lobby-like space with a small concierge desk, and I can see where the tower bulges into the wall – there is a rounded wall before us, pinkish stone with two doorways and stairs leading up, one to the right, one to the left. We follow the right-hand stairway, and begin to climb. At first, the pathway is smooth-laid stone with square-cut corners, but as we go upward it becomes more and more rough-hewn, and eventually looks almost like a natural cavern. The spot where it opens out to the window looking into the Kingdom
of Water is beautiful, and I stare entranced at it for a while. It’s an entire landscape seen from high above, but the thing that I see the most is water in all forms – the whole thing is kind of blueish, and there is a waterfall, lakes, and the sea.

We walk onward. Judy has changed, and is now a young slender woman in a flowing white dress, sort of a Muse or Nymph figure. The stairway has become more and more natural looking, with lots of irregular shapes and more holes to the outside between the quarter windows. I remember very clearly looking at Earth, which is brown and sort of angular, as if it’s built of quarried chunks of iron ore. We see a third window, which I think was Air, and then arrive at the top of the stair. The walls have become very slimy, covered with a fine slippery mud. There is an opening at the top of the stair, but it is too small to get through; I try to push my way through or to widen it, but don’t manage it.

The dream at this point becomes very cartoonish (usually a sign of impending awakening) and I see a visual of a huge cavern room like the Mines of Moria in LOTR, but there is a zoot-suit type party going on. Someone stands under a big neon sign and makes an announcement. Everybody listens, then goes back to frantic dancing. The people look like the Spy vs Spy cartoons. I spin my dream body to change the scene, and find myself back downstairs in the lobby space. There is a tall, decent-looking but not really handsome man at the concierge desk, and I ask him if there’s another way up, because the stair was blocked. He points to a stainless steel elevator. I push one button and a compartment in the wall opens, but it is part of the elevator shaft; he comes around the desk and pushes another button, the elevator opens, and we both step in and go up. We ride in silence for a minute, and then he says, “I don’t like you much.” I look at him, and grab him by the back of the head, and push him down to his knees before me, and say, “Well, then suck my dick!” (this happens in many of my lucid dreams – zero to sexual in .5 seconds). He sucks on my dick a little, and I have the presence of mind to wonder at the fact that, like usual, I’m dressed before the dream becomes sexual, but appropriately naked when it turns sexy, with no undressing or anything. I thrust into his mouth a few times, enjoying the sensation and watching my cock go in and out. I realize that once again I’m getting sidetracked, and when I stop concentrating on him, he fades out.

The elevator opens into a big, empty room. It isn’t circular as it is in my visualizations, but instead kind of irregularly shaped, with alcoves along many of the sides. It reminds me of the Sullivan house second story. I see Chris here, although he looks different, taller and lankier with longish blond hair falling in his face. I go up to him and hold him, which feels really good. I begin to feel the dream fading again, and this time can’t regain control of it, and wake up *end*

3 replies
  1. admin
    admin says:

    Re: you dirty little boy

    No, never was a Catholic… my parents are founding members of a Disciples of Christ church, but they’re fairly relaxed about religion – my Dad’s read a lot of comparative religion, practices TM, and belongs to a Cayce society. I’m Wiccan, although I have more theory under my belt than practice as far as that goes.

    And welcome to mine, as well… unfortunately, there’s a lot of banal between bouts of salacious – much though I might wish it otherwise!

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