Okay, this is a bit involved.
Started off where I was a student at a small but prestigous art college. I was living in the house of one of the art teachers, a woman who was young and rather attractive (think Ashley Judd). She had managed to purchase an old mansion/castle for incredibly cheap, and helped meet expenses by boarding a small number of "gifted" students.
I shared a room with another guy who was something of a recluse and a social misfit, but was something of a genius. The room itself was really strange: it was more like a cross between a theater and a cathedral, but with the "altar" end on the downhill side, with the very bottom end being actually underwater. The room was really cool, but there was always this undercurrent of weird happenings, sort of an unspoken "haunted" feel.
One day, the roommate disappeared. Evidently he had not been the first; over the last few years, a handful of students who had lived here had disappeared. The administrators felt that the pressure had been too much for them and they had just left. I hit the end of the year and was packing up my stuff to move out, and I was down at the "altar" end of the room...
(Woke up to pee here. Water dreams are like that.)
Came back in a new place. This time, I was in a huge mansion, but different-- like impossibly huge, and scary-twisted. I was with a group of people-- I think we were the kids from South Park, except we were real and not animated-- and we had to find our way off of the level we were on and onto the lower level. Somehow we knew that we had to go down a level to go up, and there were some kind of monsters on that level that could hear us, so we were trying to find a way of distracting them.
Somehow I got separated from the rest of the group and things changed: I was once again the art student, and I could actually draw (which was really awesome), and I had a figure-drawing class with the art teacher. Since I knew I was leaving, and I wanted to sharpen my skills, I asked her if she had any reference materials that I could have over the summer. She asked me if I was asking her for naked pictures of her, and I got all embarrassed and fumbly but said yes, and she told me to come to her place that night. I told her I didn't know where she lived, and she said that was all part of the game, smiled and walked off; she was actually an exhibitionist.
This was the big clue: it was a game, but a deadly one. If you've ever seen the movie 'Saw' where a group of people are put into a place where they have to sacrifice something about themselves or they die, it was like that, except it was much larger and with sex instead of death. It led you into deeper and deeper levels of sexuality, and if you made it through all the levels, you escaped with your life; if not, you stayed as a part of the game forever (which would make an awesome freakin' movie, except that it would get an NC-17 rating).
I was part of a group again, the students that had disappeared. We were trying to coordinate to escape, but there was the usual infighting and splitting of the group. I left and went to the teacher's room, where she was sleeping naked in her bed (which was awesome), and had left an envelope of naked pictures for me. At this point, I looked like a cross between Gary Sinese and Hugh Jackman-- you know, exactly what I look like in reality.
There was some confusing sex stuff here. Sex dreams are rare for me, and this was a sort of a blurry hybrid; there was some sort of sexual activity, but it's not clear what it was. As I tried to leave, I went to put on my shoes, only to discover that for some reason she had three pairs of my shoes under her bed. I grabbed the ones that I knew were the sturdiest because I knew I'd be needing to run and jump and generally have some physical needs to escape the monsters that roamed the halls, when she grabbed the right shoe because she needed to have sex with it. There was a struggle, with me trying to get the shoe back to put it on and her trying to... well, I'll let you figure that out. She was completely asleep at the time. I managed to appease her and get my shoe back, when she called me a son of a bitch.
Then the Voice introduced itself: since I had discovered that it was a game, I was the chosen champion to ascend to the next level. I had to don a rubber suit that was a cross between a fetish outfit and body armor; I had to modify the mask to be able to breathe (I think this may have been cat-induced), but I finally put it on, the sliding door opened, and I was through to a series of mazed passages where I had to scrounge for weapons, much like a first-person-shooter videogame but eleventy times more realistic.
There were a series of booby traps that I had to disarm, I had to set my own, there were sexual traps that I have a hard time describing; it was into territorial sexuality. There was sexual healing. It was a tricky place to maneuver, and I was sill into it when the alarm went off this morning.
It was a vivid and very hallucinatory experience, very unlike my normal dreams, but also very cinematic.