School in a Parallel Universe

[Summerlander]

I have never met another version of myself in a parallel dimension, but I have had a fight with a malicious 'alter ego' that emerged from the shadows of a dark bedroom replica after rolling out of my perceived sleeping body.

Other than that, I remember an old experience where I deliberately created a wormhole and went through it to find a futuristic metropolis populated by cyborgs that drove flying vehicles like The Jetsons . I have also deliberately inhabited the bodies of other characters in dreamspace.

I also entered the phase this morning that turned weird and culminated in an erotic fantasy. I think you will like this one, guys, and I'm sure we could spend an eternity conjuring crazy theories which pertain to parallel realities.

Dream state:

I'm a primary school pupil and I am sat in a little rickshaw with a boy I took to be my best friend. He is trying to help me wheel this thing through the school's corridors and classrooms, but I want him to sit back and enjoy the ride while I make the effort.

The ride now has enough impetus to roll by itself while me and my little friend sit back and relax. We are laughing because we're evading the school's authorities and, simultaneously, I get the impression that we were supposed to be attending a class. The scholastic adults nab us and we are marched into the headteacher's spacious office.

The man in charge is a tall, middle-aged man donning circular specs and a thick, grey moustache. Despite staring at me with a condescending air or superiority, I start coming to my senses; I'm an adult, I don't go to school, and as lucidity increases with memories of real life, I even glance at my child-friend with a smirk as if to let him know that everything is under control

Phase state:

'I wish to see Christopher Hitchens!' I demand from the headteacher. 'I want a lesson from Mr. Hitchens---not you!' By now, other characters seem to have joined us. A couple of men wearing lab coats stand on either side of the towering headteacher, who leers at me and finally scoffs: 'What do you think this is?'

Slightly taken aback by his response, but remaining defiant in my newfound lucidity, I riposte, 'This is a dream! I'm dreaming all of this and I demand to see Mr. Hitchens!'

The headteacher sneers as he cocks his grey head to the side. 'He thinks this is a dream ...'

Laughter resounds in the office. 'What?!' I exclaim as two middle-aged women wearing tunics grip my arms. I notice a couple of figures marching a little boy out of the room. I think of recalling the plan of action for lucid dreaming but the women are rubbing my chest and begin to lift me off the floor. Other urges begin to emerge and I inexorably abandon even the idea of summoning Christopher Hitchens.

Warning: sexually explicit (I feel like I should alert members in some are too young or are sensitive to this content for some other reason)

It feels so real and I'm getting aroused. The woman holding me to my right unzips my trousers and exposes my penis, which looks small and is completely enveloped by her hand. She masturbates me frantically. It doesn't take me long to climax and semen is ejected everywhere. I see people sitting on the floor, watching as they get sprayed by my protracted ejaculation.

'I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!'

Disgust and embarrassment almost kill my sexual excitement but the women who stimulate my child-like body reassure me with words like, 'Don't worry, dear!' and the other chuckles before stating that 'they don't mind'. They put me down and I notice another tunic-wearing woman smiling seductively at me as she stands by the door through which they had taken my friend. I am covering my mouth with my hands in disbelief before I wake up.

Waking state:

I check my underwear and there is no evidence of having ejaculated in real life. But there is an erection. I am still aroused and my wife wakes up. Luckily for me, she is also horny and we make love.

As you can see, this experience did not go as planned and was quite unexpected. We appear bound to call something like this a 'lucid dream' and indeed, with a little determination, we can exert some control. Most of the time, even when we get the expected, the desired manifestation isn't exactly what was initially envisioned.

But this particular experience had a character of defiance expressed by figures with ostensible sentience. Perhaps my childlike defiance by truanting in my ab initio, mindless dream state was reflected back to me when I finally reached dream consciousness.

Was I really lucid in a dream or lucid somewhere else just as real as this reality? Can we really afford to say we can know with certainty that an experience is a dream by spotting impossible distortions, when in waking life our perception of the 'real' world can be equally distorted with powerful psychedelics or waking hallucinations caused by schizoid conditions?

Could such distortions be mere 'side-effects' of a phenomenal consciousness that can flit between parallel realities and even adopt the memories of parallel-world inhabitants? Perhaps a boy in a parallel universe suffered a schizoid episode and momentarily declared, like a stubborn solipsist, that everything around him was a creation of his own mind, and would-be responsible adults raped him before having him committed.

I sincerely hope that the lucid dream theory applies in this case as I would not wish a terrible fate upon even a hypothetical being living in another world.