Pitch bit his lower lip as his fingers trailed through the coarse scalp of a golden figure. It was not Sanderson providing the fellatio this evening, but a figment of his own imagination.
All inspired by a single feather.
Pitch swore to himself that this would only happen once. Fill the void and move on with his life and inflict what terror he could upon the children of the world. But this Sanderson's dreamsand had been in his system nearly every night this past month. Tooth's words had been on his mind as well.
"This is likely the last time you’ll ever experience kindness- and you’ll come to find that its absence a torture on its own, Pitch.”
He didn't expect Toothiana to wound him so deeply, but she had. The carnal pleasures that had brought her to him now festered within his very being and as much fun as Sanderson could be, that wasn't enough. The dream Tooth currently sucking him off with rigor wasn't doing the trick either. It just left him wanting more.
Without warning, Pitch pried the dream version of Tooth from his member and pulled her mouth up to his. There was no taste here, but he could still savor the sweetness that his Fairy Queen had. Mint, jasmine, hibiscus, and vanilla all wrapped into one punch.
As the pair kissed, Pitch managed to guide himself into the imaginary fairy. He heard a cry of pleasure, but it wasn't the right tone. It wasn't her voice, and he hated her for it.
Still, the shiny version of Tooth reacted as he hoped she would, rolling her hips as she straddled him, her lips trailing over his. She was the one taking charge, but he was still the one directing the scene.
Of the times he had coupled with the woman, the real thing, he had been rough, cruel and distant. It was who he was, but now he wanted nothing more than to feel her softness again. The caressing of her fingers and feathers, or the feminine chirps she made in intercourse. He'd kill to hear the bittersweet words from her again, praise of how good he was doing.
Instead, he felt the pillow of sandy lips against his neck. No flesh lay underneath the feathered being. Only sand and empty dreams.
An angry tear escaped his eyes and rather than lashing out at the form before him he submitted himself further into the falsehood. He thrusted himself as deep as he could from below, his hands anchored at her hips. He didn't dare to touch her wings. Dream or not, he had learned his lesson well.
Sitting up, he planted his lips upon her neck, placing tender kisses along the feathered region. He'd nip her every now and then, knowing that's what the woman would want, and he was rewarded with mewls from the figure.
It wasn't the same. He didn't even think it would ever be enough to satisfy him. But it was all he had.
It was pathetic. He could only imagine the ridicule he would get from the Guardian if she saw him now. This act was just a forced wet dream, a glorified form of masturbation, something that he never took part in.
Not wanting to waste the dreamland on his own thoughts, Pitch hoisted the fairy up and rose to his full height. She wrapped her arms around him and their lips locked once more, this kiss deeper than the last but as empty as ever. Carrying her over to a newly erected golden altar, he laid the Tooth Fairy out upon the slab and let his hands glide over her form. As he let his lustful gaze hover over the woman and her spread out wings he wondered if he could do this position outside of a dream. The friction would surely damage her wings, right? The shimmering Toothiana did not ask him to stop, however.
On the contrary. She begged him to continue. This was, after all, his dream.
"Please, Pitch," moaned the fairy.
Pitch strained to not release his load before he satisfied the request of his fantasy.
"What is it, my hummingbird?" Pitch growled huskily as he continued to rock into the woman.
"I'll give you whatever you ask," he mustered. His eyes were closed, focused on getting the dream to obey his wish and provide him with the permission to finish but instead Pitch felt the hands of the fairy grasp his face, forcing his eyes open to gaze at the corrupted dream before him A once elated golden fairy now blackened and broken with an expression of fear on her face.
“Pitch, help me!”
Pitch gasped as he tore himself away from the dream and back to his lair. It had been ages since he felt the cold sweat of fear upon his own skin but it was there.
Running a hand through his hair, the Nightmare King caught his breath and peered over to the bag of dreamland with scrutiny. That wasn’t supposed to happen. But then again, him falling for a Guardian was never in the picture either.