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It’s Just a Dream, Roger	By : GalaxyD Category: +. to F > Big O Views: 1877 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
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Chapter List
- 1-It’s Just a Dream, Roger
- 2-Both Proud and Ashamed
- 1
- 2
THE BIG O Presents:

It’s Just a Dream, Roger

By GalaxyD

Chapter One: Roger’s Handy Girl

This city, Paradigm City, is a city without memory. One day forty years ago, everybody in Paradigm City lost their memories. But humans are adaptable creatures. If they can find out how to repair things and harness electricity, they can make some kind of civilization, even without a history. But memories are like nightmares. They can show up when you least expect them.

On the top floor of the white tower he made his home, Roger Smith was sleeping fitfully tossing and turning in bed. It was no use. Ever since the Ellen Waite case he had been tortured by surreal nightmares that left him shaken and exhausted every morning. He didn’t know if they were Memories from the past or visions of the future or if there was even if there was a difference anymore. He didn’t even know if the nightmares truly belonged to him or if they were the result of Memories implanted by a mad scientist when he was a child.

In his nightmares, Roger saw an eye. A bar code. Bald children looking into a blazing fire. A doddering old man offering him a tomato. Three giant robots marching through a burning city, lighting fires with lasers shooting from their eyes. A torrent of flames rushing through a subway tunnel. Shelves of books burning. Devastated cityscapes filled with giant broken robots, the most intact one with a hatch open and a man either dead or dazed sat staring out of the cockpit. A man who looked exactly like him. A conveyor belt held skeletal robots that entered a machine and came out the other side looking exactly like Roger Smith, right down to his favorite double breasted suit…

“No…” he groaned as he tossed and turned in his sleep. Roger Smith was a young man who appeared to be in his mid-twenties. His broad shoulders and trim waist indicated both strength and agility. His jet-black hair and his strong jaw and high cheekbones on his boyish face combined with his long legs made him the definition of 'tall, dark, and handsome'. But right now his handsome features were twisted in anguish. Sweat was dripping from his face as he groaned and flinched under the assault of the horrendous phantoms assaulting him in his sleep.

From the doorway a short slender girl watched him with a stern frown. The petite teenager was dressed in a reddish black dress that had a white ruffled collar and formal white cuffs. A set of black stockings and shiny black shoes completed her ensemble. Her red pageboy haircut was immaculate, her bangs broken by a black barrette. Her skin was alabaster white, her features were dainty and her dark violet eyes were mysterious as they gazed unblinking at the tortured young man tossing and turning in the bed before her.

In Roger’s twisted dreams he was screaming while in the cockpit of some strange vehicle. Suddenly, his dream changed and he was lying in a bed of crimson silk embracing a beautiful woman with platinum blonde hair. “It’s all right Roger,” the woman murmured huskily as she pressed her nude body against his. “I love you,” she whispered as she lay atop him and wrapped her legs around his naked body. “I’ll be here all night. I won’t let anything happen to you,” she hissed in his ear.

Roger stopped tossing and turning and breathed a sigh of relief as a weak smile escaped his lips. He had no way of knowing that the teenage girl who had entered his room was whispering sweet nothings into his ear. He also didn’t know that she had reached under his covers and was pleasuring him with her hand. Her other hand was caressing his brow as she whispered reassuring things to him.

When he grinned and in sighed relief a ghost of a smile appeared at her lips. The smile vanished a moment later when Roger giggled and muttered a single word: “Angel…” That’s when her frown returned and she reached under his covers and grasped his member with both hands before twisting her hands in opposite directions about his organ, causing his tender skin to stretch painfully.

“Aah!” His eyes opened as he sat up and clutched at his red and painful extremity. “Ah! Ooh! Ah! Dammit!” he cried as he held onto his injured manhood before he realized that he wasn’t alone. The look he gave the girl was nearly psychotic. “R Dorothy Wayneright!” he shouted. “What are you doing in here? Don’t androids ever sleep?”

“My maintenance and reboot cycle only take an hour or so,” she said in a flat, emotionless tone as she turned on a lamp on a table near Roger’s bed. “I usually read the rest of the night. I heard screaming. Are you all right Roger?”

“Yeah,” muttered a blushing Roger. “I just hurt myself that’s all.”

“Really?” she said as she looked at him him with an unreadable poker face. “How did you do that?”

His face was beet red now. “I uh… don’t know.” He was still sitting up and was still clutching himself underneath his blankets.

“Where does it hurt Roger?” the girl asked evenly. “Perhaps I could apply some lotion or some ointment.”

Roger sputtered as his face went from beet red to ashen white to beet red again. “No! Uh… I mean no. That won’t be necessary Dorothy. I’ll be fine. Really.”

“Are you sure?” she asked as she clasped her hands and tilted her head in an attempt at a concerned gesture. “You look like you’re in considerable pain.”

“I’m uh… good Dorothy,” he smiled weakly. “Don’t worry about it.”

“I’ll get some ointment,” she said as she entered his private bathroom.

“Ow…” Roger winced and examined himself after she left. It was still a little stiff, and even in the dim light of the lamp he could see the red and tender skin. How did this happen? It was like someone had given him an Indian burn! Had he been rubbing himself against the bed that hard? Had his dream really been that erotic?

No. Wait a minute. He had woken up lying on his back. It was impossible to hurt himself that way, wasn’t it? It didn’t make sense. What had happened to him while he was asleep? Had Dorothy done something to him?

Dorothy stepped out of his bathroom. “Do you want the ointment?” she asked as she held up a small tube in her right hand. “Or the cold cream?” she asked as she held up a small plastic jar in her left.

“Ah, the cold cream,” Roger mumbled.

“Very well,” Dorothy said as she stepped forward and opened the lid of the jar. “Where does it hurt?”

“I’m not telling you!” Roger protested.

“Why not?”

Roger blinked as his dazed and flustered mind searched for an answer. “Because it’s uh… private. It’s in a sensitive area.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll be extremely gentle,” she assured him passionlessly.

Roger blushed and let out a nervous chuckle. “No. You don’t understand. The pain, it’s in my uh, man-place. You can’t touch it.”

“In your man-place,” Dorothy emphasized his words. “What place is that Roger?”

“You know,” he snorted indignantly. “My um… man-place.”

“Every place on you is manly,” she said. “You’re a man. You don’t have a woman-place. Could you be more specific?”

“That’s… very flattering Dorothy,” Roger grimaced in embarrassment, “but this place is manlier than the rest of me. It’s kind of what makes me a man.”

“Your car is down in the garage Roger.”

“No, it’s one of my body parts,” Roger snapped. “One of my vital organs that proves medically I’m a man.”

“What organ is that?” Dorothy asked. “As a man, all of your parts are medically masculine aren’t they?”

“This part of me is for men only,” Roger snickered. “Only men have this part. Do you understand?”

“I’m no expert on human anatomy Roger,” Dorothy told him, “but I don’t see what difference that has on giving you medical treatment. Applying lubricant may be troublesome but it’s necessary,” she said as she bent over him. “Let me help you.”

“I can do it!” he growled as he snatched the jar of skin lotion out of her dainty little hand. “Honestly Dorothy! I’m not a child.”

“You could’ve fooled me,” Dorothy said. “I’m just trying to help after all.”

“I’m fine,” he muttered. “I’m good. I don’t need any help. Now go away will you?”

“I’m concerned about you,” Dorothy told him. “You’ve been having nightmares and now you’ve hurt yourself. You’re far from fine.”

“Dorothy will you just get out of here so I can apply the lotion?” Roger snapped. “I can’t do it with you watching me.”

“You’re acting like a child,” Dorothy’s scolded dryly. “If you won’t do it I’ll have to do it for you.”

“Don’t you dare!” he growled.

“Something is wrong with you,” she announced. “If you can’t take care of yourself, I’ll have to do it for you. You’re too important to me to allow your condition to deteriorate like this. If you won’t let me help you I’ll have to restrain you until you get back to your normal self.”

“Restrain me?” Roger was taken aback. “Dorothy what are you saying?”

“If you’re going to act like a child, I’m going to act like your mother,” the girl announced. “I don’t need to sleep like you do Roger. I can stay here all night if I have to. Wait here.” With that she walked out of his bedroom.

“Where are you going?” he called after her.

“To turn the heat up on this floor,” she called back. “Alright,” she said as she came back in and walked over to him. “Lie back. Try to relax.”

“You don’t need to do this Dorothy,” he said in a reasonable voice.

“You’re exhausted,” she said as she put her hand on his chest and gently pushed him back down on the bed. “Just close your eyes and try to relax. I’ll take care of you. Just get some sleep.”

“Okay,” he adjusted his pillow behind his head and closed his eyes. His eyes snapped open when she opened his blankets. “What are you doing?”

“I’m applying the skin cream,” she said as her dainty fingers scooped a dollop of the white goo out of the little plastic jar. “You never applied any so I’ll do it. Why do you think I turned up the heat?”

“Dorothy, don’t—!” He stopped protesting and gulped when her graceful little fingers spread the cold cream on his manhood. “Dorothy!” he gasped.

“Close your eyes,” she ordered as the hand she was wasn’t using to apply the cold cream flipped his eyelids shut. “Don’t talk and just try to get some sleep.”

“Kind of hard to sleep with a beautiful girl touching me down there,” he smiled wryly. Was it really just another body part to her? Did being an android make her view the world that differently?

“Just think of me as a doctor,” she said softly. “There,” she said as she wiped the excess lotion on his inner thigh. “Does that feel better?”

“I don’t want to admit how good that feels,” he whispered hoarsely.

“Do you like to be touched there Roger?”

Roger’s eyes snapped back open. He pulled his blankets up and then rolled on his side to close the snap on his pajama bottoms. “No,” he grunted.

“I’m sorry Roger, did I embarrass you?” the little android asked him.

“That’s putting it mildly,” Roger muttered.

“I’m sorry, I just wanted to help,” the mechanical girl said. “You don’t have to be embarrassed over a small owie Roger. You’re making a big deal out of something very little.”

Roger looked over his shoulder to stare at her.

“Well goodnight, Roger,” Dorothy leaned over and pressed her lips against his cheek. “Hopefully you’ll feel better tomorrow. I’ll be up all night if you need me.”

“Did you just kiss me goodnight?” Roger asked.

“Yes,” she said. “Isn’t that what mothers do for their children?”

There was a long pause. “Yes,” Roger finally admitted, “but they usually don’t apply lotion to uh… there.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” she told him. “Goodnight Roger.”

“Goodnight Dorothy,” he smiled weakly as she turned out the light. That night he didn’t dream about fires or barcodes or clocks melting, but he did dream about himself and Dorothy naked in a giant tub of vanilla ice cream.

The next morning he was feeling better despite himself. The dreams he had after her visit may have been surreal but they weren’t fires, barcodes or giant robots destroying cities so he decided to shut up and take ‘yes’ for an answer. Breakfast was a little awkward though. Dorothy Wayneright always sat with him at the breakfast table sipping a cup of tea even though as an android she really couldn’t taste it. This morning Roger was embarrassed to be in her presence.

“So how did you sleep?” Dorothy asked him.

“Like a baby, thanks,” he blushed.

“Waking up every two hours and crying for your mommy?” the girl asked in her deadpan voice.

From behind Roger, the tall and elderly Norman Burg snorted in laughter. Roger’s butler wore an archaic tuxedo and an eyepatch covered his left eye. His thinning white hair didn’t cover his bald pate but he did sport a magnificent handlebar mustache.

“No,” Roger grunted in irritation.

“That’s what you did before my visit last night,” Dorothy continued.

“Dorothy!”

“That’s what you’ve been doing for several nights now,” she droned on. “I’m getting worried about you.”

“Worry!” Roger sneered. “Is an android even capable of worry I wonder?”

“Any android that met you would be,” she countered. “Roger I’m worried about you and Norman is too. You’re not well. This isn’t good for you. I wish there was something I could do for you.”

“You could try letting me have a shred of dignity,” he snorted.

“I tried that but it didn’t help,” the girl said. “Your nightmares continued unabated. Then when you were fighting the three foreign megadeuses in Big O you hallucinated and were paralyzed for almost two minutes. We could have been killed. This is a serious problem and we have to address it.”

“Why you!” he growled before his face fell and he relaxed in resignation. “You’re right. But I don’t know how,” he admitted. “Why is this happening?”

“Perhaps all the terrible things that have happened recently are finally getting to you,” Dorothy offered. “Last year I was kidnapped, placed inside of a giant robot, watched my father get murdered before my eyes and had my kitten taken away and turned into a giant monster. And all of that was before Heaven’s Day. If I was human I have no doubt I’d be having nightmares too.”

“Yeah,” he chuckled self-consciously. “I guess I wouldn’t be human if it didn’t get to me sooner or later.”

“If there’s anything I can do for you don’t hesitate to call me,” she offered.

Roger blushed as he recalled the cold cream incident last night. “Sh-sure,” he lied bravely. “If I have any trouble sleeping, I’ll let you know.”

Two days later, the nightmares started again. Were they Memories or hallucinations? Were they Memories that were implanted incorrectly that were now complete gibberish? Or was his subconscious resisting these Memories by shrouding them in symbols that obscured their meaning? Was Roger really just a clone grown in a lab like a tomato or had he erased his Memories on purpose?

In his nightmare, he was surrounded by bald children staring into flames. Was he on fire? Was he born or just grown for some purpose? If he was like a tomato, what did Gordon Rosewater mean when he talked about a harvest? Was Roger even who he thought he was or was…?

“Roger,” a girl’s voice murmured in his ear. “It’s just a nightmare Roger. It’s all right. You’re safe. I love you and I won’t let anything happen to you.” His dream changed and he was making love with a beautiful woman. She had breasts like the mysterious blonde bombshell who called herself Angel, legs like Carol who spent a Heaven’s Day party with him in a closet two years ago, and lips like that girl he made love to a year and a half ago but had forgotten her name. Making love with this fantasy woman was a blissful sensation that felt like he was being tickled with the tongues of a dozen supermodels.

It wasn’t long before he was awoken by the exquisite agony of his climax. His eyes snapped open to squint in the darkness as his body continued to pump out the sticky white cream that begins human life. It was just a wet dream! Or was it? Something was happening down there! He wasn’t alone! On the tip of his manhood was in a tiny mouth that was gulping down his seed like it was going out of style! His legs were apart and a small, almost childish figure was between them nursing on his member like a newborn calf at a dairy farm. What was going on? Who was orally pleasuring him in the middle of the night?

He tried to speak but all he could say was hoarse grunts that didn’t mean anything. He tried to look down to see who it was but his eyes kept rolling as his hot milk shot through warm soft lips, past straight and careful teeth over a moist hot tongue and down a throat that didn’t seem to need to pause for air.

A tiny delicate hand with smooth gentle fingers was gently stroking up and down his shaft. The dainty digits didn’t grip hard enough to create any friction; it was more of a tickling sensation than anything else. The lips that were clamped around him were in stark contrast to the teeth that were spread open as much as the lips would allow. The little tongue was working hard to catch as much of the jism and send it down the gulping throat.

Roger grasped the head of his unknown paramour and discovered a pageboy haircut and a barrette. His unknown lover was Dorothy Wayneright! Was he still dreaming? Could this be happening? How human was she? Did she sneak in here on her own or had Roger enticed her into his bed and had somehow forgotten?

“Hurrgh!” he grunted as he gripped her head and shuddered before letting go and collapsing. As he lay there panting, he felt her rise and lean over him to reach for something on the little table next to his bed before crouching over his groin again. He felt a warm washcloth stroke his private parts and let out a nervous chuckle. Poor little Dorothy. Even in the middle of a sexual act she was so meticulous. She froze and waited for a few heartbeats before finishing her chore and then leaned over again to place the washcloth into a bowl of hot water that was resting near the lamp hidden in the darkness.

Roger felt soft lips kiss his stomach before she closed his pajama bottoms and pulled down his shirt. She then got off the bed and closed his blankets before kissing him on the forehead and picking up her bowl. Roger opened an eye to see her tiptoe out the door and close it behind her. How did a two hundred and eighty pound android manage to move so quietly?

Why didn’t he confront her? Why didn’t he say anything? Should he have said something? Could he have said something? “Hi didda eh zay zump ting?” he mumbled. He took a breath and tried again. “Why didn’t I say something?” Oh. That’s why. Between shock, passion, and not being fully awake he really couldn’t say something. That explained that.

He tried to get up and groaned in pain. “Cramp! Cramp!” he grunted as he tried to massage his stiff buttocks. How hard had he been going at it? Had he really been pumping Dorothy’s mouth that hard? What had happened tonight?

The sounds he made as his legs and buttocks cramped up sounded like he was being tortured. His door cracked open and out of the corner of his eye he could see a white face peering at him in the darkness. “Dorothy!” he grunted.

“Roger,” she said as she walked in and turned on the lamp near his bed. “Are you all right? Did you hurt yourself?” Unbelievable. She acted like nothing happened. She was dressed in her reddish black dress with the white cuffs and jabot like she always did. Roger half expected her to be in a sexy negligee. She looked at him with that calm expression she always wore. Was there another android that looked just like her somewhere? And was that android sexually active?

“I uh… just a muscle cramp,” he muttered. “I’ll be alright. I just need to massage it and I’ll be fine.”

“Let me help you,” she said.

“No. Wait. I can handle it…”

“Where does it hurt?”

“My thighs and my uh… rear,” he admitted.

“Roll over,” she commanded as she seized his shoulder and rolled him on his stomach. Soon her strong little hands were kneading his buttocks like she thought they were cookie dough. “Does that feel better?”

“Ah! Ooh! Yeah,” he mumbled. “Thanks.”

“How did you hurt yourself?” she asked as her dainty hands moved on to his thighs. “Did you have another nightmare?”

“At first but then I had a really good dream,” Roger giggled, his voice still hoarse with passion.

“That’s nice,” she said. “Hopefully you’ll be able to get a good night’s sleep tonight. You’ve been waking up exhausted lately. Sometimes you seem more tired after you get up than when you go to bed.”

“No, tomorrow I think I’ll be really well rested,” he muttered. Had any of this really happened? Or was he simply having dirty dreams about Dorothy Wayneright? No wait! The heater was going. Last night Dorothy had turned the heater up before opening his blankets, but tonight the heat was already on. That meant that Dorothy knew she was going to be opening his blankets ahead of time. If she was planning to pleasure him without waking him up, she might have turned up the heat before doing so. It wasn’t a dream! This had really happened!

Dorothy finished his thighs before moving on to his back. “Are you feeling relaxed now?” she asked him.

“Uh, yeah but I have to go the bathroom,” he admitted.

“Alright,” she said as she stood up and let him get out of bed. “I don’t have to sleep like you do so don’t hesitate to let me know if you need anything. I’ll be right outside if you need me.”

“Uh… yeah,” he nodded awkwardly. “Thanks Dorothy.”

“You’re welcome.”

After relieving himself, Roger washed his hands before running water on his face. What was going on here? Was he even in the same world he was when he went to bed? Why was Dorothy playing nursemaid after just playing doctor? Was she malfunctioning or was he going crazy? Should he talk to her about it or should he just keep quiet and see what happens tomorrow night?

On a desk filled with hourglasses a phone rings. Roger's hand picks up the receiver and a sinister voice says:

Next: Both Proud and Ashamed
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It’s Just a Dream, Roger