the cornell experiment

Dream 1

I had come into an office, probably as a temporary receptionist or something. I sat down at some cubicle. It was the beginning of the day. The office floor was dim, like there were no lights on, but blue daylight was coming through some window walls in the distance, and maybe from some window-walled alcove behind me.

I may have felt a little impatient that it was just the beginning of the day. I may already have felt annoyed at having to sit at this cubicle desk all day long, doing nothing and probably being treated nicely but sort of condescendingly by the other people in the office.

I was probably myself. But I may also either have been a really sexy, girly woman wearing sexy office girl clothes without really noticing it. I may also simply have been wearing the sexy office girl clothes without noticing it. Or I may have been wearing some scrapped-out girl clothes (the ones I sometimes wear for my masturbation fantasies in waking life) without noticing it.

I was probably thinking about the path my professional life had taken. I was disappointed with myself. I had worked a lot and done a lot of great things. But somehow I'd thrown it all away and was back at the start again, working as a temporary receptionist. I may have wondered if there wasn't some quick way I could get myself back to where I'd been.

I looked off to my left. Beyond some glass walls was another room that may have looked like a library or a set of book stacks. I probably felt like whatever was in those books related to some kind of strong interest I'd had in my previous professional work. I decided to go there, so I could look into my old professional interests, just for my own sake.

As I walked into the room, I saw, beyond a few rows of bookshelves, MM, someone from one of the first professional positions to start my serious career life (back in 2005), sitting at something like a microfiche machine. MM looked up from her machine and saw me, too.

I maybe walked behind one of the bookshelves, possibly thoughtlessly, but possibly on purpose. I may have seen a desk, like a receptionist's desk, that I thought I needed to sit at. It was like my job now took place in this room instead of the other room.

MM called out to some other folks. She said she'd spotted me. She told the people that they should follow me and try to get me involved in whatever project they were working on. She said I was the kind of person that, once people had me on their team, they would just start winning all the time.

But I was now laying in a bed in between one of the book stacks and a window wall looking into the other office area. I wasn't wearing a shirt. And the only thing I wore around my lower body was a skirt-like item of clothing I use for my masturbation fantasies in waking life and maybe a pair of panties.

I hoped neither MM nor the people she was calling to would pursue me. I didn't want them to see me like this. I especially didn't want MM to see me like this, as I was pretty sure she'd been romantically attracted to me when we'd worked together.

Two men came in through a glass door and stood beside the bed. It was like this space -- still almost the exact same office/library space it had been before -- was now either my bedroom or some hospital room. The men may have looked like stereotypical detectives from a 1940s movie.

I was embarrassed to have the men here, because of the shameful way I was dressed. But the men also seemed menacing, like they were part of some weird governmental group that was just taking people away from their lives for reasons nobody understood.

Once the men were at the head of the bed (it may really have felt like a hospital bed, with an elevated head, at this point), they were both suddenly under dark blue (like a dull, navy blue, but with just a tinge of a dark, forest green to the blue) blankets. The sight of these men just standing stock-still was creepy and unsettling. The men intended it to be so.

The men were now both out from under the blankets. But they stood in some weird position, like one of them had manage to get behind the headboard of my bed (which was now like a regular bed, in a low, wooden frame with a bookshelf-like headboard), while the other one stood close to the first one, but just beside the bed.

The man behind the bed was carrying a license plate or some kind of stiff piece of paper that looked like a license plate. He may possibly have been carrying this thing the whole time. The "license plate" indicated that it came from Cornell, i.e. the university, as if the university were a place you could reside in, like a state, and get a license plate from.

The two men may have taken turns telling me about a project they were working on. It was called something like COM, or Cornell-COM, or Cornell-MOC. It may possibly have been some sort of military project or government project in cooperation with Cornell. Or it may have been a project that Cornell was working on alone that seemed a lot like it would or should be a government or military project.

The project may have sounded interesting to me. But I wasn't quite sure I wanted to be a part of it. I actually wasn't sure what my involvement was supposed to be. I felt like these guys may have been trying to lure me into a situation where I'd actually be tortured by them as part of some twisted government or university experiment.

But even if I had completely trusted the men and their program, I still wasn't sure I'd want to join. If I joined I'd have to go with the men right now. But I knew I wouldn't want to do that. As soon as I got out of bed they'd see that the only clothing I was wearing was a tattered skirt I used to masturbate in and maybe a pair of equally worn-out panties.