One significant dream from that night was that he was a professor who had developed a secret formula for a lipstick that would take away a man's willpower. He was captured and taken to a remote wooden mill to be interrogated...
And I was his evil interrogator, dressed in jet-black lingerie and black stockings, with black high-heeled shoes. (I just loved it when he told me how black the lingerie was, since it meant that he was understanding my lingerie color preferences at a subconscious level.)
"So," I said in the dream:
"Are you going to tell me the secret formula for that lipstick? You know we can make you tell us, don't you?"