Calming Zeke Down, Dressing Zeke Up

You'd never been in a stress dream before. You'd had enough experience with Inner Demons to tell you that you hoped there wasn't one attached to Zeke's dream, but you were pretty sure this wasn't that. This was stress. All the archetypes were there. Being unprepared in class, being called on and ridiculed, being naked.

While you'd never liked Zeke, a part of you felt bad for him in his **** state. Only a part, though. You remembered the times Zeke had put you into a state like this, feeling anxious, feeling ****, only for you it was in the real world. Zeke could at least wake up and have his amazing life. You could only dream of something better.

And dream of something better you did! Your newfound skills in the Labyrinth would come in handy. Sure, you'd help Zeke out, but not in a way you would guess he wanted.

"Zeke," you said, standing up, "Look at me."

Zeke's head began to lift from his hunched position in front of the class, his hands desperately trying to cover his private parts.

"Look at me, Zeke. You need to calm down."

"I'm naked!" Zeke squeaked. The panic in his voice seemed to have knocked his voice to a previous prepubescent state.

"No you're not," you answer, concentrating, forcing your will onto the dream.

"I am!"

"You are not naked," you say, straining against Zeke's dream world, feeling the reality begin to bulge. You push with your willpower more, then find a seam. It bursts. You're in.

"I'm not?"

"Of course you're not," you say, striding forward to the front of the class, "You are wearing your favourite panties and bra."

One moment Zeke was naked, the next he was clad in a white and pink lace bra and panty set. A confused look settled on his face, as if he was trying to figure out if this was any better than being naked. You pushed with your will again and the faceless students stopped laughing.

"They're your favourites, Zeke," you say again, now standing in front of him, strain of effort in your voice, "You always wear them when you want to feel good. Don't you remember?"

"...feel good?"

"Yes, you feel good!"

Confusion vanished, and a serene smile rested on Zeke. He felt good. It was working! You'd pulled Zeke out of his stress dream, something you hadn't considered doing before, and to top it off, you couldn't wait to see how his new dream messes with him! Shifting yourself to the side, you stand next to Zeke, put our arm around one shoulder, and pull him into a side hug.

"That's right buddy," you say amicably, "If it feels good, how can it be bad? They are, after all, your favourites. I think the class can agree that you've made a good choice."

Another push, this one significantly easier, and the faceless students, along with the teacher, all began to applaud. Zeke blushed, all the while grinning ear to ear. He loved the attention. Stepping away from him, watching him alternate between bowing for the crowd and dropping to curtsy, you decide that it's time to step out of Zeke's dream. But what should you do next?