“I want a dream with tentacles”

He nods in understanding. Beckoning you with a backwards look, he leads you through a dark doorway to a dimly lit resting chamber. In the centre is a long, velvet cushion, placed between scented candles, and draped with decorations. There's a faint sound like music permeating the space—a subtle woodwind if you have to guess.

“Lie down, please,” he says, reassuringly.

Once you’re settled, he leans over you and places two cool fingers on your forehead.

“Close your eyes.”

You do just that. And with the general ambience, it doesn't take long to drift into slumber. When you wake, it's in another world. A dark, damp one, which smooth, pink tentacles emerge from, sliding over your body, and wrapping around your limbs, waist and thighs. They move with a sexual curiousity, exploring every crevice of your body, and sending spasms of pleasure.

The dream has begun.