It’s 2054. I’d been out with our lady’s group on a pseudo off road ride on a trail up a 3400 meter mountain when we encountered an old slide area that seemed smooth enough but strewn with potato sized rocks on a rideable incline. My front wheel power was on my right hand and my rear wheel power on my left. I had not fallen yet, and my riding suit would protect me from injury if I did. My helmet still had enough power to keep my blood Ox levels up, so I felt confident that I could stay with the group.

Along the way we passed through a stopped professional male riding group, and I saw one man whose eyes locked on me, piercing me and making me feel weak from suddenly wanting him. We passed quickly and our group finished at the summit, going into the Inn up there for a light lunch before we descended back to the city.

Later that evening back at my home, he continued to haunt my mind, in that brief encounter with that very entrancing man, we had not even spoken. And now, after my shower, and soak in the hot tub came bed and a night of strangely lucid dreams. I wakened in the morning, oddly sore between my legs. One episode had featured my riding hard on a sort of tandem bike with me in front and him taking me from behind on the same trail, orgasming at the summit, near the Inn. He’d been mauling my breasts as he pounded me to a glorious vaginal experience not like anything I had ever felt while masturbating.

I laid there, on my side in bed listening to the swish, swish of my heart straining, as I remembered being at his mercy. The sex had been so rough in my dream that later, in the mirror, I had his handprints on my breasts and a collection of hickeys on my neck!

Oh my gosh, how could I dress normally for the office? My deeply plunging v crop top that was open almost to my braless navel, and my hip hugging, ankle length hobble skirt would advertise it all to my coworkers. What would I do when my boss would confront me during dictation? Would she clip my bracelets to my nipple rings and spank me through my diaphanous skirt? Wasn’t this all a dream? Where did the handprints on my breasts and those lewd hickeys come from?

I had stayed a virgin for marriage. Was that all gone? I knew that I would somehow endure the torment at the office. On the way home from work, I would buy a pregnancy test. Would I keep the baby? Would they let me?? Questions?

I had dated but there was no one in my life that I felt serious about. Would my child be reared in a creach baby nursery like so many? If a man offered to marry me, would he lawfully require me to stay at home? Willingly relinquishing my rights was part of present-day marriage. By law, marriage was permanent.

Wasn't this a dream?