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Dream Siren

By: Seanathon



This story is my entry for the 2014 Valentine's Day Story Contest so, if you like it, please remember to vote! I also greatly appreciate any and all comments and feedback, and hope everyone has a great Valentine's Day!

*

Eric and Daphne pulled into the underground parking lot and he knew she was watching him as he circled deeper and deeper, until he reached his stall.

He backed his black Saturn Sky into his parking space and the thumping beat from the speakers died as he killed the ignition.

In the silence, before he could unbuckle his seatbelt, he felt Daphne's hand on his leg.

"I really appreciate you driving me home from work every night," she said.

Eric looked down at her hand and then met her eyes, knowing he'd see the same look of longing he always saw there. "Daph, we live in the same apartment building. I keep telling you, it's no trouble."

"I just wish you'd let me pay you back by giving you money for gas...or something."

As she slowly stroked his thigh, he said, "I don't need anything, just having your company for the drive home is enough."

"Well, why don't you let me pay you back by taking you out to dinner...maybe this Saturday?"

Eric raised an eyebrow. "Isn't next Saturday Valentine's Day?"

Daphne blushed and squeezed his thigh. "It doesn't mean anything, it's just a Saturday to me. I'll make the reservations, and we can -- "

"Daph, I've told you I just want to be -- "

"Don't say it," she said, pushing her fingers against his lips. "You drive me crazy every time you say you just want to be friends. Why can't we be more than friends?"

Eric felt her other hand sliding up his thigh, and she rubbed her palm across his crotch; her fingers wrapped around and squeezed his half-hard cock when she felt it through his pants.

"Whoa!" he said, pulling her hand away from his quickly stiffening shaft. "Daph, I mean it, I just want us to be friends. Can't you accept that?"

"Yes, of course, friends..." But Daphne wanted to be more than friends. If she had her way, Eric's pants would've been around his ankles with her head bobbing up and down in his lap.

Ever since she'd met him when he'd moved in nearly a year ago she'd been infatuated with him, but he just wasn't interested in her. And Daphne couldn't understand that; every boy she'd ever met had been interested in her.

But no matter how many times she'd tried, Eric had resisted every move, every seduction, and always kept the buffer of friendship between them.

"If you really want to take someone out on Valentine's Day, why don't you ask Saul?" he said.

"Saul? Saul from work? He's nice I guess, but -- "

"He's crazy about you, give him a chance."

"You won't give me a chance..."

Eric reached over and put his hand just above Daphne's breast, near her heart. "I mean give him a chance here, not in bed, and I think you'll be surprised."

Daphne trembled beneath Eric's touch; she didn't know why it drove her so crazy. "Okay," she whispered, reaching up to hold his hand in place. "I'll give him a chance. But if it doesn't work out...you owe me."

* * *

Daphne returned to her apartment and Eric returned to his, a small bachelor suite on the nineteenth floor.

For the price he paid, the apartment was painfully small. But what Eric was paying for was the view. From here he could look down on the city as if from the heavens. At night it looked like a sea of lights, with lives crisscrossing back and forth below him.

As he held his hand up to the window, feeling the cool night air on the other side, he caught his reflection in the glass. He'd love to have given Daphne a chance. She was the most beautiful girl he knew, with an amazing body and a touch that was electric.

When they'd got off the elevator Eric knew that she'd glanced down at the bulge in the front of his pants, and knew he was still stiff from her touch in the front seat of his car.

But how could he explain to her that when he dreamed he didn't dream of her, he dreamed of pain.

And now that he sat at his desk, looking at his laptop, his cock was hard again. But this time it wasn't from Daphne; it was from the black and white images sliding across the screen.

Images of women bound with ropes, twisted into every possible position, gagged and blindfolded as they submitted to their masters, and let them use their bodies for their pleasure.

Eric was sure that if he told Daphne his secret she'd eagerly submit to him, letting him bind and dominate her, using her body in any way he could imagine.

But he wasn't sure if that was what he really wanted. When he dreamed of pain, he dreamed of his own pain. And wondered what it would feel like to be bound, to be at the mercy of another. Never knowing if they would give you punishment or pleasure.

He was determined to make a date with a dominatrix, wanted to learn the art of submission...and pain...from an expert. And he'd been googling ads looking for one nearby that could fulfill his needs.

Images of men bound, their bodies being teased by beautiful latex-clad mistresses...being punished beneath their high heels and whips. These were the images that filled his head as he undressed, neatly folding his clothes before he crawled naked into his bed.

Sleep came swiftly and Eric dreamed, but tonight the dream was different.

There was a storm outside and he could hear the rain beating against his window, but above it he heard a dreamy voice singing, calling to him like a siren.

Eric sat up in his bed and rubbed his eyes, trying to cast off the shackles of sleep. Like a prisoner he rose from his bed and was pulled toward the siren's song.

Was it coming through the walls? He didn't feel like he was asleep, he felt like he was awake and the music was coming from the apartment next door.

But the song was too beautiful, too dreamlike, as if it came from another world. And now he heard more than one voice singing.

The sirens' call pulled him to the wall of his apartment, and he saw himself standing naked in the full-length mirror.

The sweet sound seemed to be coming from beyond the mirror. Eric stepped forward and in the semi-darkness banged against a small end table.

As he struck the table it thumped against the wall, and the face of the mirror rippled like a pool of water.

Eric reached forward to touch the glass and his fingers dipped through the cool surface, sending rings like water on a pond rolling across his reflection.

Now he knew he knew he was dreaming, and as he stepped through the mirror he heard the sirens' song even clearer.

Beyond the mirror there was only darkness, with an infinite amount of pinpricks of light shining in the dark like stars. He felt like he was afloat on a shipless ocean with the night sky all around him.

The sirens' song called him toward one of the stars and he glided toward it, as if carried by wings.

But then he heard another voice, a second siren calling dreamily to him from the beyond.

Eric stopped, torn between the dream sirens. The first ones called to him, begging him to come to their Mistress, while the second siren sang of love, and her search for it.

Something flew toward him out of the darkness -- a butterfly. It flitted about Eric's head and tried to get him to follow, to lead him toward the dreamy voice of the second siren.

But the other sirens' voices grew even stronger, and their song, though irresistibly sweet, was no less sad than sweet, and lapped Eric's body and soul with a fatal lethargy.

And as their song carried him toward them, he looked back as the butterfly and his keeper's siren song faded into the darkness.

Eric saw the pinprick of light he was being drawn irresistibly toward grow into a portal, and as he went through it he stepped out of a mirror into a chamber.

He had no idea how he knew it was a chamber, as the walls couldn't be seen, but as the sirens' song faded, their prey successfully lured across the sea of night, he knew he was being watched.

"Hello?" Eric said.

As if in answer, a blonde-haired woman stepped forward from the darkness. Eric's eyes drank in every inch of her -- the dominatrix of his dreams.

She was wearing a tight, black leather corset dress that barely contained her full, perfect breasts and was high enough to reveal her matching leather panties. Black glovelets were wrapped around her wrists, and a pair of black high-heeled leather boots stretched up mid-thigh, completing her outfit.

Eric could see the soft skin between her boots and panties was pale white, as if it rarely saw the sun, and as his eyes drifted up her body, savoring every inch, he spotted a silver collar around the pale skin of her neck.

If her body had fulfilled every one of his fantasies, her face shattered them. He had never seen anyone so beautiful...her beauty was otherworldly. Her perfect, heart-shaped face was framed by long, silky blonde hair that cascaded across her shoulders from twin ponytails that rose from the top of her head like horns.

But as Eric watched her, she wasn't watching him. She looked over her outfit as if it was the first time she'd ever seen it, and when she finally looked up at Eric, standing there in his nakedness, her eyes saw through him and she smiled wickedly.

The dominatrix turned her palms face up and lifted them, and the walls were revealed around her in the form of a dungeon, complete with every instrument of punishment Eric had fantasized about.

She turned to examine them, running her fingers curiously along their lengths, and Eric could see the back of her dress was open and laced together so that he had a full view of her flawless ass.

Her fingers drifted over the different whips, floggers and paddles hanging from the wall and she glanced back at him, as if trying to decide how she should punish him first.

"Who are you?" said Eric.

She didn't speak but, as if in answer, he heard the sirens' voices whisper: "We seek her, but she is lost to the shadows..."

The voices were all around Eric, as he said, "Who? Who is lost?"

He went to walk toward the dominatrix and nearly stumbled as something pulled at his foot. Looking down, he saw that both of his legs were shackled to the floor.

He reached down to try and free himself, but invisible hands grabbed his wrists and pulled his arms painfully up and above his head, binding him to the Saint Andrew's Cross that had appeared behind him.

He struggled against his bindings as the dark dominatrix strutted toward him, a black and red flogger in her hands. She reached her fingers up to touch her silver collar and it vanished, reappearing around Eric's neck, its weight cool against his skin.

Eric knew he was in a dream but, as he felt the bindings cutting into his flesh, the pain felt so real.

Suddenly she was right in front of him, so close that he could feel the unnatural heat of her body in the cold chamber.

Her hand caressed his smooth, well-muscled chest and she brushed her fingers lightly against his nipples, exploring his body. She pressed her cheek against his and sighed, as if she'd gone ages without knowing the touch of flesh.

Sliding her right hand across his taut stomach and down across his groin, she dragged her long fingernails across his swollen erection.

She smiled at him and dragged the tip of her tongue across her lip in anticipation. Stepping back, she held up the flogger, testing its weight in her hand.

Eric felt a faint flicker of fear. "What are you going to -- "

She reached out and twisted his nipple hard, silencing him with a scream of pain.

Eric had dreamed of pain before, but never anything like this. He squeezed his eyes shut and clenched his teeth as she drew back the flogger and whipped it forward.

Eric tensed for the blow but the first strike of the soft leather tips flicked almost painlessly across his skin. He let out his breath, but caught it again when she struck a second blow, just a little bit harder.

She gave him a naughty, knowing smile as she whipped the flogger back and forth across his skin. Starting at his chest, she struck him over and over, each stroke harder, each stroke lower.

He could feel the pain now, intensifying as the tails of the flogger inched down toward his crotch. As a blow sent stings of pain arcing across his abdomen he started to grow afraid.

How was it going to feel when she struck lower with the flogger? His abdomen was strong enough to take the blow, but his cock and balls were so tender, so sensitive. How would it feel when those leather tails curled beneath him and bit into his soft flesh?

She was inches away from his cock, which hung heavily down between his spread legs, and Eric clenched his teeth and closed his eyes, trying to will himself to wake from the dream...from the nightmare.

He heard the flogger as it whistled toward him, and he screamed as the tails cut painfully into the soft flesh of his ass.

Eric opened his eyes in shock and realized he'd somehow been turned around, and was now facing the cross; his mystery mistress was behind him, twisting the flogger for another blow.

As it cut into him again, Eric cried out: "No! I can't take any more...please...Mistress."

She already had her arm back, aiming a third stroke, but she stopped and dropped the flogger to the stone floor.

She stepped close to him and pressed her body against him from behind, the cool leather of her dress soothing against the raw skin of his well-whipped ass.

Reaching her hand around, she found that his cock was completely erect. She sighed as she wrapped her fingers around it and started to stroke it.

Eric moaned as she pumped his shaft, and felt his balls tightening as she jacked her hand back and forth, faster and faster. He knew he was about to come, and groaned as he closed his eyes, ready for release.

Suddenly he was free, his bindings and the cross were gone and he slumped to the floor, his cock painfully erect and throbbing. His Mistress stood above him, giving him a look that let him know he wasn't allowed to come -- yet.

Eric sat on the floor, dizzy and trying to catch his breath, when somewhere in the distance, beyond the mirror, he heard the other dream siren calling, looking for him.

Before he could look toward the mirror his dark Mistress grabbed his chin and forced him to look up at her. Smiling, she held out her other hand and offered him a pomegranate.

Eric felt hungrier than he'd felt in his life. He tore through the skin with his teeth, tearing off a jagged piece of flesh so he could see the sweet seeds beneath.

He was about to eat but hesitated, and held out the opened pomegranate toward his Mistress, offering her the first taste.

She smiled sweetly at his offer, shaking her head no as she opened her mouth and stuck out her tongue. On the soft pink flesh, six pomegranate seeds glowed like rubies.

She grabbed his hair and wrenched him close so that her mouth was right by his ear, and hissed, "Neverborn!"

* * *

Eric bolted upright in his bed, the word echoing through his head. Neverborn...never born...never borne. He could still feel the sting of her lash, the pain of her touch.

His heart was pounding through his chest and he was soaked in sweat. He kicked off his blankets, trying to cool himself down, and fell back on his pillow.

Eric had dreamed of domination before, but never anything like that. The pain had felt so...true.

He looked at his alarm clock and saw the time was three thirty four.

He needed more sleep and closed his eyes, still not sure if he'd had a dream or a nightmare.

Eric knew he was starting to dream again when he heard the faint song of his dream siren, telling him to wake from the dream.

And then he opened his eyes; he was still in his bed. But in the darkness he could see a shadow...a silhouette...someone or something was crouching at the foot of his bed.

Eric felt panic crawling over him as he tried to sit up, tried to reach for the light, but it was as if invisible arms were pinning him to his bed.

He freed an arm and reached out in the darkness, a weight on him as he struggled for the light switch. And then he felt something seize his arm. Blind panic tore through him as he tried to pull away, and it tried to pull him off the bed, into the darkness.

Eric awoke screaming; it had only been a nightmare. But then he felt it -- something was still holding his hand.

He yanked it away and scrambled back across his bed as he fumbled for the light switch.

When he turned it on he saw her, a dark-haired girl kneeling beside his bed.

"Who the fuck are you?" said Eric. "How did you get in my apartment?"

She grabbed his leg to try to calm him down. "Don't be afraid. I'm here to serve you, Master."

Eric jerked his leg away and blinked his eyes as they adjusted to the light. The girl was stunningly beautiful, maybe even more beautiful than the dominatrix of his dreams, and he realized she wasn't a girl -- she was a woman.

She wore a small, dark top made of black feathers that barely covered her large, full breasts, which were out of proportion to her small frame. And as she kneeled, he saw the only other thing she wore was a tiny pair of black silk panties.

When she saw him admiring her, and felt his gaze sliding across her soft, exposed skin, she swept her long, black hair back over her shoulder so he could see her breasts better.

Eric looked into her dark, shining eyes and saw the look of longing, the same look Daphne had.

"What do you mean...you've come to serve me?"

"Exactly that. I want to serve you as a slave, with you as my Master."

Eric had e-mailed and chatted online with others interested in the BDSM lifestyle, and wondered if she was one of them, if she'd somehow learned where he lived.

He followed her gaze to between his legs and, realizing he was completely naked, yanked the sheets up.

"How did you get in my apartment? And what are you doing here at three thirty in the morning?"

"Anything you want me to, Master." She laid her hands palms up on her thighs and thrust her breasts forward.

"No, I mean -- "

They both started when the light unexpectedly went out, and they were both illuminated only by the faint glow of the city lights outside the window. The rain was still beating down, but above it they heard the soft song of the sirens, searching for him, calling him back to his dark mistress.

The girl's dark eyes went wide with fear, as she looked to the mirror and then back to Eric. "Don't listen, Master. Don't go to her, I can give you what you need."

Eric started to sit up and she quickly climbed on to the bed and straddled him, pinning him down with her weight. He could feel her heat pressing against his hardness through the thin sheet.

The warmth of her body felt amazing as she lowered herself against him, but he felt himself falling away from her.

Eric felt as if his soul had left his body and was being carried toward the sirens by their song. "Get off me, slave," he said, in an empty voice, and she had no choice but to obey.

He stood up and she saw he was under their spell...under her spell. She had to do something, so she sang.

As soon as Eric heard the enchanting sound he stopped and looked at her, as if seeing her for the first time; the girl couldn't have been much older than twenty, but her voice was timeless.

The sirens' spell broken, Eric realized he knew whom she was, the second siren who'd called to him in his dream.

She smiled and a tear ran down her cheek as she sang, and saw the recognition in his eyes. She held out a closed hand to her Master and, as he gently pried her fingers back, a butterfly flew free and circled him.

But the song from the mirror grew stronger, and beckoned him again, and no matter how passionately she sang he couldn't resist it. He stepped toward the mirror and she grabbed his hand, trying to pull him back from the darkness.


Dream Siren



Eric fought against her, trying to get free, and she cried, "Master, wake up! Wake up!"

* * *

"Wake up! Eric, wake up!"

Eric bolted upright in his bed; it was daylight.

"About time!" Daphne said, her hand still on his shoulder. "I've been shaking and shaking you trying to wake you up, I was starting to get a little worried."

"I was having the strangest dream," he said.

"I can tell...I hope it was about me."

Eric looked down and realized his cock was completely stiff, sticking up straight like an arrow and tenting the thin white sheet.

Embarrassed, he tried to cover it with his hand. "What are you doing in my apartment?"

"We're late," she said. "When you didn't come to get me I came here instead and knocked and knocked. After you didn't answer, I went and got the spare key you gave me to hold. I know you told me not to use it, but I was worried about you."

"Thanks," he said, looking at the clock and shocked to see he'd slept in by over an hour. "Shit, I've got to get dressed, we've got to get going."

He went to get up and realized Daphne was still sitting on the edge of his bed, watching him.

"Umm, do you mind turning your back while I get dressed?"

"Sorry," she said, as she stood and faced away from him.

But she'd positioned herself so that as he got out of bed she could see him perfectly in the full-length mirror.

Daphne had never seen him naked before, and what she saw made her catch her breath. He was everything she'd imagined. If desire had a name, she thought, its name was Eric.

He was built like a champion swimmer, with broad shoulders and a lean, perfectly muscled body. As he got out of bed he stretched, and Daphne felt flushed as every inch of him was put into perfect definition.

He shook his fingers through his wavy, dirty-blonde hair and rubbed his hands across his face.

But Daphne wasn't looking at his face. Her eyes were between his legs.

When she'd felt his cock in the car she knew it was thick, but now...seeing it in all its glory...she never realized how long he was. Even half-hard, he was nearly as big as most of the guys she'd been with.

Based on what she'd seen jutting up beneath the sheet, and what she was looking at now, she guessed he had to be at least eight to nine inches long...and thick.

She was fantasizing about what it would be like to be beneath him, what it would be like to be fucked by that beautiful cock, when Eric turned to grab his clothes from the dresser.

"Holy shit!" she said.

Eric turned to see what was wrong and quickly covered his cock with his hands as he saw Daphne coming toward him.

She turned him sideways and he winced in pain as she brushed her fingers across his ass cheek. "Oww, that stings!" he said.

"I bet it does," said Daphne, turning him to get a better look at his butt as she rubbed her hand soothingly across both cheeks. "What the hell were you up to last night?"

Eric turned his back to the mirror and looked over his shoulder, as she removed her hand he saw the marks.

Angry red lines crisscrossed his ass -- whip marks from a flogger.

Eric stared at them disbelievingly. How were they possible? He'd only dreamed of the dominatrix -- hadn't he?

As he checked out his ass in the mirror, Daphne was checking out his cock again.

It was so near, and so beautiful. She dreamed of touching it again, of feeling it growing hard in her hand.

"Umm...Daph?" said Eric. "What are you doing?"

But she didn't hear him. As if in a trance, she had her hand wrapped around his thick cock, slowly stroking it back and forth.

"Daph!" he said, prying her hand off his shaft, "Please don't..."

Daphne stepped back, staring at her hand in disbelief, and her eyes went wide as she looked at Eric, unable to comprehend how her hand had ended up around his cock. "Oh my god...I didn't mean to...I mean, I didn't even know I -- "

"It's okay," Eric said, pulling up his boxer briefs and tucking his stiff cock inside. "Let's just forget about it. We've got bigger things to worry about, like getting to work before we're both fired."

* * *

A flimsy excuse of car trouble and a promise to make up the extra hour got them off the hook for being late, but the next seven hours passed painfully slow for Eric.

He couldn't stop thinking about the dream...or dreams. How could there be whip marks on his ass if it was only a dream? Had he clawed his own ass in his sleep? Was the damage self-inflicted?

Eric went to the washroom, locked the door and pulled down his jeans until he could see the marks on his ass, and then he got the feeling again.

The same feeling he'd had all day whenever he passed a mirror...as if someone was watching him.

He tentatively reached out his fingers and touched the mirror's surface. When he felt cool glass against his fingertips, nothing more, he shook his head and realized how crazy he must have looked.

Eric knew it had only been a nightmare, he'd had them before, he knew how real they could seem and how the memory could linger for days. And the marks...he must have scratched himself on something in his bed.

He pulled up his pants, checked his hair in the mirror and opened the door. But as he turned off the light and left the room, he never heard the faint siren song searching for him from the other side of the silvered glass.

When their day was done, Daphne met him by his car.

"Did you ask Saul?" said Eric.

"Huh?"

"Saul. Did you see if he wanted to go out with you on Valentine's Day?"

"Oh fuck, I completely forgot..." How could she remember, Daphne thought, when all day she hadn't been able to stop thinking about Eric's cock, wondering how it had ended up in her hands, and wondering how she could get it there again.

She promised she'd ask Saul tomorrow and as they drove home together they were both quiet, their minds elsewhere.

* * *

Eric closed his laptop. Tonight he hadn't done his usual search. Hadn't looked for depictions of bondage...snapshots of submission. He wondered if those were what had fueled his nightmare of the dream sirens.

With nervous anticipation he stripped naked, neatly folded his clothes and crawled into bed. Lying on his side in the semi-darkness, he couldn't help watching the mirror.

Eric's head nodded for what seemed to be only a few seconds, but as he looked around his apartment it seemed...different. And as he listened, he could just hear the faint song of the sirens drifting through the mirror, beckoning him.

But between him and the mirror, kneeling, she waited for him.

The girl with the dark hair, kneeling completely nude with her back and shoulders straight, her chest out and belly in, her head up with her eyes averted toward the floor, and knees spread with her hands on her thighs, palms up. On her shoulder perched a butterfly.

When Eric rose from the bed she didn't move, but the butterfly flew toward him, fluttered by his ear, and whispered, "Omnia vincit amor."

Unsure of what he'd heard, Eric turned to the butterfly but it was gone. "I'm dreaming again, aren't I?"

"This is only one of your dreams," she said.

And then they heard it together, the sirens' song growing louder, beckoning him toward their dark mistress.

"I know you dream of pain," she said. "But don't go to her...give me your pain, Master."

"Why do you keep calling me that?"

"Because you are my Master and I am your slave."

As she said the words, she raised her dark eyes and he saw pinpricks of light reflected there, like the ones he'd seen beyond the mirror. And as he stepped closer, and her eyes shone brighter, the song from beyond the mirror grew fainter.

"Who are you?" he said.

"I am your soul...your breath of life."

"I mean...what's your name?"

"I have no need of a name, I exist only to serve you."

"Then...what do I call you?"

"Slave."

Eric looked down at her and, now that she was naked, realized the full measure of her beauty. Every curve was perfection, from the soft glide of her hips to the radius of her full breasts.

Slave...the word lingered on his lips. He reached down and trailed a finger across her erect nipple, and with a touch the bond was made.

"Rise, slave."

"Thank you, Master," she said, and rose to her feet.

Eric sensed something around his neck; he was wearing the silver collar again. He reached his fingers up to touch it and, as he did, it appeared around her neck.

When she felt its weight, she reached up her hands to hold it, closed her eyes and sighed in pleasure as the cold of the metal comforted her.

As she opened her eyes and held out her hand, she said, "Can we begin, Master?"

Eric took her hand but hesitated. "Begin what?"

"The domination."

He looked around his small apartment, and noticed the clock said three thirty four. "Where? Here?"

"No, beyond the mirror." She pulled his hand and they stepped through together.

As they stepped into the darkness beyond, floating on a sea surrounded by a million pinpricks of light, he heard the dream sirens' song, calling him.

She squeezed his hand. "You'll be able to resist them, as long as you're with me."

"And what about you," Eric said, "will I be able to resist your song?"

"I hope not, as I sing a song of pleasure, while they sing a song of pain."

"But...who are they...who is she?"

"They were her servants, and she was their Mistress, but they failed her, and now they would give you to her as penance."

"And she's out there somewhere in this...darkness?"

"Darkness? Oh, Master, have you been blinded by your dream of pain?"

She leaned close, and Eric closed his eyes as she kissed him on both.

And when he opened them, instead of darkness, there was light, an infinite amount of light. The pinpricks had become doorways, golden doorways of every size and shape. And as the light from them flooded the nothingness around Eric he saw that he and his slave were floating in the space between the doorways, as if carried by invisible wings.

Seeing the bewildered look on her Master's face, she pulled him toward one and he saw Daphne on the other side.

She was lying in bed with the sheets and blankets pushed down. Naked, her hand was between her legs, and she tilted her head back and moaned as she pleasured herself.

"She is dreaming of you."

Eric was astonished to realize he was looking at her from the other side of the mirror above the dresser in her bedroom. "Why is she dreaming of me?"

His slave smiled at him. "Any girl who met you would dream of you."

"And if she looks at the mirror, will she be able to see me watching her?"

"No, we watch, but we are never seen."

She pulled him away from Daphne's mirror and as they went to other doorways they watched other lovers, other lives as they passed before their mirrors.

Lovers seen from the mirror above a bed, a couple lying together at the edge of a pond, two teenagers in the backseat of a car, caught in the rearview mirror.

"Anyone who is near a mirror? We can see them?" he said.

"Anyone who casts a reflection, on a mirror, on a pond, in your world or any world, we can see." She pulled him toward the tiniest doorway, and he could feel the love as a young mother cradled her newborn son and kissed him for the first time, and he watched her from the reflection in her infant's eye.

"And they don't know we're watching?" he whispered, gliding back from the tiny doorway.

"They can't see us, but sometimes they will sense us, sense that they're being watched, like you did at work today when I was watching you."

Eric felt overwhelmed as he slowly turned in a circle and saw the infinite number of doorways, the infinite number of lovers. "But...where are we?"

"In the space between."

"The space between what?"

"Lives."

Seeing the confusion on his face, as he struggled to wrap his brain around everything she'd told him, she pulled him close. "Do not think of them, Master, think of yourself. Remember that this is only a dream -- your dream."

"A dream...but it seems so real," he said, and looked into her eyes. "Why do you keep coming to me in my dreams? And why do the others keep calling to me?"

"Because you dream of pain...and we both want you to taste it; in our own ways and for our own reasons."

She led him to a doorway and they stepped inside. Eric looked around and saw they were in a small, windowless room. The only furniture was a wooden table in the center of the room, but on the walls were manacles, bindings, ropes, paddles, floggers, whips and other instruments of bondage and pain.

"Is this your dungeon?" said Eric.

"No, this is the home of a woman who has bought all of these things because, like you, she dreams of pain. But she has never found anyone to share it with, never had a chance to punish anyone other than herself.

"I crept into her room earlier tonight and sang softly to her as she slept. She won't awake until you do, Master, and everything you dream of she'll dream of too."

Eric paced the room, exploring the wall's wares with his hands, flexing them, feeling their weight. "You said earlier you both had reasons for calling to me in my dreams. What's your reason?"

"I am your slave, what reason can there be other than it pleases you?"

But the bond had been made, and Eric knew his slave wasn't lying, but he knew she wasn't telling him the whole truth.

"There is another reason," he said, stepping close to her, both of them naked. "Tell it to me now."

"Master, I cannot -- "

Eric wrenched her arm as he spun her around and pushed her down hard on the tabletop. She grunted as he forced her down, crushing her breasts against the cold, polished surface, her ass in the air as she bent over the table.

She tried to get back up and he pushed her down, keeping his hand between her shoulder blades as he kicked her legs apart.

Eric had taken a flogger from the wall with red and black tails. He slapped them gently against her ass.

"Will you tell me what I want to know? Tell me why you come, singing to me in my dreams? Or do I have to punish you?" He snapped the flogger against her ass a second time, a little harder, and she whimpered softly against the blow.

She tried to get up again but he held her down, and she whispered, "You must punish me, Master."

Eric looked down at her, bent over the table with her arms sprawled in front of her and her legs spread wide, ready for him, and he knew she was right.

He flogged her, each soft flick a little harder than the last, each blow aimed at a different part of her soft skin. The tails kissed the cheeks of her ass, the tender insides of her thighs, and the sensitive spot between her shoulder blades.

His slave moaned and gasped as he punished her and kept her face down on the table, so that she'd never know where the flogger was going to land next.

Eric leaned over her to sweep her long, dark hair away from her shoulders, exposing them for the next blow from the flogger, and as he did, his fully erect cock brushed against the inside of her thigh and she moaned in anticipation.

He reached his hand down between her legs and rubbed two of his fingers between the swollen lips of her pussy; she was soaked.

He dropped the flogger on the table close to her head and she started at the unexpected bang the hard handle made when it struck the wood.

Moving directly behind her, he kept one hand on the small of her back as he rubbed the head of his cock against her opening. She lifted herself on her tiptoes to give him better access.

"Are you ready to be punished, slave?"

"Yes, Master," she moaned, trying to back up on his cock, but unable to as his hand pinned her to the table.

He slid his cock forward, teasing her by rubbing the thick head between her lips and flicking it downward as it brushed her clit.

She wiggled her ass, begging him to fuck her. "Master...please."

"Tell me the reason. Tell me why you sing to me in my sleep, and come to me in my dreams."

"I cannot..." She reached back with her hand, trying to guide his hip forward.

Eric grabbed both of her arms and pulled them behind her back. "Then it's time for your punishment," he said, and drove his cock inside her.

She gasped as his thick pole parted her pussy lips and spread her wide. He pulled her arms, arching her back and sliding her along his shaft until her ass met his hips. She moaned; his entire length was inside her.

Eric let go of her arms, but she kept them behind her back, helpless as he put one hand on her hip and one hand on her shoulder and rocked his hips back and forth, working his thick cock in and out of her aching pussy. Aching because it had been so long...

"Oh, Master," she groaned as he fucked her, starting slowly and gradually increasing the force and tempo, as he did with the flogger. "It's so good, even better than I...better than I dreamed of."

Eric couldn't talk; it was everything he could do just not to come. Her skin was flawless, milky white everywhere except where the flogger had left its soft red kisses, and as he looked down at her beautiful, round ass, raised in the air to meet his thrusts, he could see her pussy wrapped tightly around his cock, as if she never wanted to let him go.

"Are you enjoying your punishment, slave?"

"Yes," she moaned," you punish me...and fuck me...so well."

"Well, it's your fault you're getting fucked so well, I couldn't resist this perfect ass any longer," he said, squeezing her ass cheek as he drove his cock even deeper. "But I've never flogged anyone before, not even in a dream. I just tried to do it like she did."

His slave's eyes went wide with fear, and she gripped the sides of the table to try to brace herself as he kept slamming her back and forth, fucking her harder than ever. "Like who did?" she moaned.

"The other one. The other...dream siren."

"You've seen her?"

Eric stopped pumping, but his cock was still inside her as she slumped on the table, trying to catch her breath. "I dreamed of her last night. She came to me or, I guess, I went to her."

"Those marks I saw on you today...the six lashes...were those from her?"

"Yeah...in my dream she tied me up and flogged me, like I did to you. And then she grabbed me and said -- "

"By the gods," his slave whispered, "she spoke to you?!"

"Uh-huh...she said, 'Neverborn'. Do you know what that means?"

He couldn't see her face, and didn't notice the tear that rolled down her cheek. "Please tell me that you didn't eat anything she offered you..."

Eric tried to remember if he'd eaten any of the pomegranate seeds. "No...she offered...but I don't remember eating any."

His slave knew she couldn't risk waiting any longer. "Master, say that you choose me."

"Choose you? Choose you for what?"

He pushed away from her, and as his cock slid out she tried to squeeze her pussy, tried to keep him inside her, but sighed as his cock swung free. "Just say the words, say 'I choose you' and we can share your dream of pain together...forever."

"Forever? You mean until I wake up. This is just a dream, right?"

She turned and kneeled in front of him, stroking her hand back and forth on his slick shaft. "Yes...just a dream. But if you say the words I'll come to you every night, singing my song. I'll be your slave, and your dream will be my dungeon."

Eric didn't know if he could say the words, didn't know if he could choose her. The feeling of power, the feeling of domination when he'd had her bent over the table, having his way with her with both the flogger and his cock, had been amazing.

But he couldn't stop thinking of the other dream siren, his Mistress. Last night she'd only given him a taste of domination, and he wondered what it would be like to drink deeper from her cup of pain.

His slave gazed up at him, trying to read her Master's mind, and as she did she kept stroking his stiff cock and saw how purple the head was. Knowing she'd been a poor slave by talking on the table when she hadn't been given permission to, and not letting her Master come like he needed to, she tried to make amends.




Dream Siren



Raising herself up, she wrapped her mouth around his cock. Eric forgot all about his dark mistress and wrapped his hand through his dream siren's dark hair, encouraging her as her lips slid back and forth on his shaft.

She smiled as she looked up and saw how much her mouth was pleasing her Master, and flicked her tongue gently against the underside of his cock as she pumped his shaft with her hand.

Pulling her back onto his cock, Eric held her head with both hands as he fucked her mouth. She moaned around his length and tried to relax her throat as he went deeper and deeper.

Eric felt her fondling his swollen balls as he tried to force as much of his cock as he could between her soft, wet lips, and both of them knew he was about to come.

She bobbed faster and faster on his cock, pushing him toward the edge, and as he tightened his grip on her hair he knew he didn't have to ask, she was his slave.

He squeezed his eyes shut and with a groan he flooded her mouth with cum, feeling her cheeks tighten as she sucked and sucked, draining his cock of every drop.

Desperate not to let any escape her lips, she struggled to swallow his load. And as she did, Eric could hear his heart pounding in his ears...thump, thump, thump.

* * *

Thump, thump, thump. Eric woke with a start. Thump, thump, thump! Someone was knocking at his door.

He looked at his clock and, when he realized how late it was, knew it was Daphne. He went to pull back the sheets and saw they were stuck to him.

It had only been a dream -- a wet dream. A load of cum was stuck between him and the sheets. He quickly wiped his cock on the sheet and hid it under the blankets; he'd have to clean up the sticky mess later.

Daphne's fist was swinging back to bang again when he opened the door. "Fuck, I slept in again. Sorry!" he said.

Daphne didn't say a word; she was speechless as her eyes drifted down between his legs. Eric had been so rattled by the wet dream and the realization that he'd slept in again, that he'd answered the door completely naked.

She leaned in to watch his ass as he ran to the bathroom to get ready. As she entered his apartment and shut the door behind her, she heard the shower start.

Daphne walked in the front room and saw the messy bed. Figuring she may as well make herself useful while she waited, she pulled back the blankets to make it for him while he showered.

She froze when she saw the mess beneath the sheet, knowing instantly what it was.

Daphne looked toward the bathroom, listening as Eric sang in the shower, and wondered if he'd been thinking of her when he'd made it. She'd made a similar stain on her sheets last night when she'd made herself come dreaming of him, but hers hadn't been nearly as messy.

As she pulled the sheet up, she could see his cum was still wet and sticky and knew it hadn't been on the sheet long. Was that why he didn't answer? Was he still jacking off while she was pounding on the door?

Daphne lifted the sheet from the bed and looked at the sticky mess. Sweeping her long auburn hair over her shoulder so she wouldn't get any cum on it, she held the sheet close enough to take a sniff and, when she couldn't smell anything, turned to make sure Eric was still in the shower.

She flicked her tongue out and took the tiniest taste of his cum. Her eyes went wide in surprise. She'd swallowed cum before, but none had ever tasted like this.

She took a long lick, scooping a thick glob of cum off the sheet with her tongue. The flavor was amazing...so sweet. She didn't know what Eric had been eating to make it taste so good, but she knew she didn't want to share it with anyone.

Daphne licked and licked until it was all gone, cleaning his cum from the sheet, and then desperately wondered how she could get some more, preferably right from the source.

Eric came out of the shower with a towel wrapped around his waist and grabbed his clothes.

When he saw the bed was made, he turned to Daphne. "Oh shit...the sheet...did you -- "

"I cleaned it all up," she said, sliding the tip of her tongue across her lip. "The sheet is in the clothes hamper. I hope you were thinking of me when you made that mess."

"Daph," he said, as he went in to the bathroom to change, "I told you I just want to be -- "

"I know -- friends, we're just friends," she said as he shut the door.

She walked over and listened at the door as he dressed, and said, "But friends can still be close to each other...make each other feel good...instead of getting yourself off, you could call me and I could come over and lend a hand...or a mouth..."

"What did you say Daph?" he cried. "I can't hear you with the fan going."

"Nothing," she shouted, and leaned her forehead against the door.

* * *

Eric was pleased when Daphne told him that she'd asked Saul out for dinner on Valentine's Day and he'd accepted, but she didn't seem pleased that he seemed pleased.

He knew she had a major crush on him, but he just wasn't interested in being anything other than friends. And now, as he sleepwalked through his day unable to think of anything other than his two dream sirens, he wondered how any girl could interest him again.

Eric barely remembered the drive home, dropping by Daphne's apartment to get some leftovers she'd saved him, or even what they were. The world around him seemed secondary to the dreams that would come, and he was anxious to close his eyes and see who tonight would bring.

After undressing for bed and neatly folding his clothes, he was halfway under the covers when he stopped. He looked at the near wall where the full-length mirror stood sentinel, and felt as if he was being watched. Was he already dreaming, or was the dream real?

Traffic murmured from the streets below as he walked toward the mirror, and tentatively reached out a hand toward it.

Nothing. His fingers found nothing but cool glass. He pressed his face against it, hoping he could see something on the other side, but only saw his reflection. As he stepped back he saw the marks his hands and nose had left on the glass, but then those too faded away.

Crawling into bed and closing his eyes, he let sleep overcome him

* * *

Eric sat upright, more than half asleep, and looked around his apartment. He knew what time it was before he even looked at the clock -- three thirty four.

The streets below were silent as he swung his legs out of bed and checked the room. He was alone. Tonight he hadn't dreamed at all.

He walked back to the mirror and tentatively reached his fingers out. Just before they touched the glass he stopped, listening. He heard something, like a whisper.

Eric pressed his fingers against the glass and watched as they passed through as if breaking the surface of a pond. Stepping forward, he fell into nothingness, into the beyond.

He was on the other side of the mirror, with a thousand upon thousand doorways beckoning him. He found Daphne's by memory and saw her sleeping soundly. Drifting to another, he saw the dungeon he'd been in the night before.

A naked woman was bent over the table in the exact same position that Eric's slave had been, and a man was behind her with the red and black flogger in his hand, thrusting his cock in and out of her pussy as she moaned with each stroke.

From across the beyond, he heard the sirens' song, and he knew they were calling him, summoning him to his dark mistress. But he hesitated, as a far away window beckoned him.

Drifting to the doorway, he saw he was looking through a reflection of a pool far under the earth. Someone was lying on the edge of the pool.

As Eric focused his eyes he could see it was his slave, slumped on her side with an opened golden box lying empty beside her.

Was she dead? Eric went to step through the portal but it moved away from him. He glided toward it on invisible wings, but the golden doorway moved even further and further away.

And then Eric realized the doorway wasn't moving away from him, he was moving away from the doorway. Looking over his shoulder, he saw that he was being pulled toward another opening, and he knew who was waiting for him.

He fell through the doorway and rolled as he hit the floor hard. Lying on his back and trying to catch his breath, he heard the sirens' song stop.

"We have found him," they whispered. "We have found him for you Mistress. And in atonement we have brought him. Are you happy?"

As the voices echoed around him, desperate for an answer, Eric saw her step out of the darkness.

Her body was as stunning as he remembered, but her outfit was different this time.

She was wearing black high heels with matching stockings, and black garters that stretched up to red, satin panties. From the waist up she was completely naked, and her long blonde hair was in a single ponytail that trailed down her back.

As she strutted toward him Eric went to get up, but she drove her foot into his chest and forced him back to the cold, stone floor, her high heel biting into his flesh.

"You will learn not to hesitate when I summon you, slave."

When Eric didn't answer, she ground the point of her heel into his chest.

"Yes, Mistress!" he answered, wincing in pain.

"And where is your collar, slave?"

He touched his naked neck and realized it was still with his own dark-haired slave.

"I'm...I'm sorry Mistress, I don't have it."

She smiled down at him as she shook her head in disappointment. "It doesn't matter, I have another; collars are like slaves, easily replaceable."

As she pulled her hand from behind her back and Eric saw the silver collar she held, he wondered if it was the same one, wondered if she'd retrieved it from his slave.

"Did you do something to her?" he said. "Did you give her that golden box?"

She tilted her head down toward him and her eyes turned cold. "Who is this girl you speak of?"

Eric wondered if he'd said too much, but then realized he couldn't, he didn't know anything. "I...I don't know."

"And who are you, Neverborn?" She leaned closer, searching his eyes as if she could find the answer there.

"Neverborn? What does that mean...why do you call me that?"

She ground her heel down, and he was sure she was going to break through the skin. "I'll call you anything I want, slave. But if you thought you deserved a name, what would it be?"

"I do have a name...Eric."

She leaned even nearer, all her weight on her heel as she pinned him against the floor, and he felt as if her eyes were also piercing him. "Is that your real name? Or are you hiding secrets?"

Before Eric could answer she stepped off of him, and he clamped his hand to his chest, groaning as he massaged his palm against the indent left by her heel.

The dark dominatrix signaled with her hand and, even though Eric had never seen the signal before, he instinctively knew to kneel.

When he did, she stepped forward and lifted his chin. "Why do you dream of pain, slave Eric? Do you think that pain will bring you pleasure?"

"I...I don't know, Mistress."

"Well it will," she answered. "I have spent half my existence in pain, and I can tell you that when you finally feel pleasure again...it's intoxicating. I've also learned that the greater the agony, the greater the ecstasy, and when I'm done punishing you, the simplest comfort is going to feel like rapture."

No one heard Eric's screams, his cries of agony. His dark mistress dished up exquisite tortures in her dungeon, increasing the pain with each new torment so that his previous suffering almost seemed like joy.

But he could have stopped it if he'd wanted to. She'd whispered a word to him, and told him the pain would end as soon as it escaped his lips.

But Eric wouldn't break and, not counting the sobs, cries and screams that burst forth from the depths of his soul, didn't say a word, as every twist, every slap, every sting, every blow, every agony pushed him closer and closer to the breaking point, but never quite far enough.

His dark Mistress knew exactly how to slide him along the razor thin edge of pain, giving him all she knew he could handle but not an ounce more. He screamed, yelled, squirmed, winced, grimaced and panted until the only thing he felt was the absence of pain.

When she finally released him he pooled to the floor like liquid, every muscle of his body numb with suffering. He knew this couldn't be a dream; no one could have slept through a nightmare like this.

She stepped across him, her legs straddling his battered body, and he groaned, "no more..."

"I'll tell you when I'm finished, and I'm not finished yet, but I think you've earned a reward. After taking all that punishment you deserve a little pleasure. And after all the hard work I did, giving you what you needed, I think I deserve some too."

Eric leaned over, wincing in pain as he moved, and kissed her shoe. "Thank you, Mistress."

As she lifted her arms above her waist, palms up, invisible hands slid her panties down and she stepped out of them. The same invisible hands caressed his body, their soothing touch easing his pain, and as they moved down to his cock and stroked it, he grew hard for his Mistress.

She smiled approvingly at his thick cock, standing straight up like an arrow and aimed at her pussy. Squatting down in her high heels, she grabbed his shaft and guided it to her opening. To keep her balance she placed one hand on Eric's chest and he winced, his entire body still consumed by pain. But as she lowered herself onto his cock he felt the pain wash away.

Pleasure cascaded through his body as her tight pussy slid down his pole, and his Mistress moaned as her ass rested on his thighs, and every inch was inside her.

"By the gods," she said, her head slumping forward as a tremor of pleasure shuddered through her, "It's been so long."

She lifted her hips and slowly started to bounce on his cock. Eric groaned in response, she was so tight, so warm.

"What do you say, slave Eric?" she moaned, as she rode his thick stick.

"Thank you...Mistress."

And she was right, after all of that pain, the pleasure was almost too much to bear. Eric was in ecstasy as she plunged up and down, impaling herself on his cock. He grabbed her hips and drove her down even harder, fucking her even faster.

"Ungh," she grunted, as he went deeper than she expected. "Do you like fucking your Mistress, slave?"

"Oh, fuck...yes...yes." Eric tilted his head back and closed his eyes, lost in pleasure as she rode his swollen cock.

"Then say the words, Neverborn."

"What?" he said, looking up as she increased her tempo, rocking back and forth on his big pole.

"Say you choose me."

He'd almost forgotten about his own slave, forgotten how she'd asked the same question.

"What do you mean?" he moaned. "What do you mean 'choose you'?"

"Choose me," she said. "You want pain, and I can give it to you. Choose me and pain and pleasure like you've never known will be your reward for eternity."

Eric was finding it hard to focus on what she was saying. He could feel his balls tightening and, as if sensing it, she reached behind and squeezed them as she rode his cock.

Leaning down, she whispered in his ear, "I'll let you come if you choose me. And all I ask in return is that you tell me how you did it."

"Did what?" he said, and then groaned; he knew he was going to come.

But she suddenly lifted her hips until his cock slipped out of her pussy. Grabbing his balls, she pulled on them with one hand while her other hand squeezed the head of his cock, preventing him from coming.

"I didn't say you could come, slave!" she growled.

Eric groaned in pain and clenched his eyes shut...her hands were squeezing him so tightly...he needed to come so badly.

"Tell me the path," she whispered. "Lead me to the doorway and I'll let you come."

The pressure was incredible; Eric knew her hands were the only things holding back his explosion.

"What doorway?" he groaned.

"The doorway to your world."

Eric didn't know what she was talking about, he only knew one thing -- he needed to come. His cock and balls ached for release, but she had them gripped like a vise.

And then, unexpectedly, she relaxed her grip. Eric groaned in relief as a shot of cum fired out of the end of his cock, and then another and another.

He kept his eyes clenched shut and arched his back as his balls emptied their load, gasping as she worked her hand up and down his shaft, milking every drop.

* * *

Eric opened his eyes and let out a moan; it was daylight. He knew he wasn't dreaming anymore but he was still coming, he could still feel her warm fist pumping his swollen cock.

But as he reached out his hand and wrapped his fingers through a soft head of hair, he realized it wasn't a hand wrapped around his cock, it was a mouth -- Daphne's mouth.

"Oh, fuck...Daph," he groaned. "What are you doing?"

She didn't answer. She didn't say a word. She just kept bobbing up and down on his cock, sucking down every drop of his sweet cum.

Figuring he'd slept in again, Daphne had brought the spare key. And when she saw him covered in sweat, twisting and turning on his bed in the throes of a nightmare, she knew she shouldn't wake him up.

But as she sat on the edge of his bed watching him, and saw the bulge beneath the blankets...

She'd lifted them up and couldn't believe how swollen his cock was, how purple it was. No wonder he'd made such a mess the day before. She reached her hand beneath the blanket and felt him; he was so hard it must have hurt.

Pulling the blankets and sheets back until his cock was completely exposed, Daphne was surprised to see it spring straight up. She didn't think she'd ever seen a cock so stiff. As she leaned closer, she could see a huge drop of pre-cum oozing from the tip.

Watching Eric to make sure he was still sleeping, she leaned across him and slowly licked the head of his cock.

The taste of the pre-cum on her tongue swept through Daphne like a drug. She closed her eyes to savor the taste, and when she opened them again another huge drop had formed.

Adjusting her position so she wouldn't wake him up, she leaned across Eric again and rolled her tongue around the head of his cock, tasting the tip. But this time she kept going, and wrapped her lips around her best friend's knob.

When she'd first started sucking him she'd barely been able to fit her mouth around his thick cock. But once she'd got the hang of it she was easily sliding her lips halfway down his length.

His cock felt amazing in her mouth, such a perfect fit. She felt like Cinderella.

Eric was still tossing and turning in his nightmare as she sucked him and she started to wonder if he'd ever wake from it. She was also starting to wonder if he'd ever come; her jaw ached from sucking him for so long. But there was no way she was stopping until she got what she wanted.

And now he'd delivered it. A hot mouthful of the same sweet, sticky cum she'd licked off his sheets the day before. Her eyes rolled back in her head as she drank it down; she'd never tasted anything like it.

Her whole body relaxed as she pumped his shaft and tried to get down every drop; it was like a drug and she was addicted...she couldn't get enough.

"Oh my god," Eric said, moaning as he pulled Daphne's mouth off his cock and fell back onto his pillow.

"Daph...you know you shouldn't have been doing that."

"You said you just wanted to be friends and that's all we have to be," she said, licking her lips to make sure she'd got every drop of cum. "But there's nothing wrong with making your friend feel good, is there?"

Eric closed his eyes and tried to gather his thoughts. Had he really been with his dark mistress? Had he really stepped through the mirror? Or had it just been a nightmare, with the pleasure at the end courtesy of Daphne.




Dream Siren



"Can you get me something to clean up the mess?" he said.

"What mess?"

Eric looked at his cock and realized it had been sucked clean. "You swallowed it all?"

"Every drop," she said with a smile. "And every time you want to come, I want you to let me know. I want you to let me swallow it."

She leaned her body against him and whispered, "I want your cum so bad."

Eric sat up on his elbows and stared at her in disbelief. "Daph...what's got into you? You do remember you're going out with Saul tomorrow night, right?"

"I know," she said, squeezing his cock and hoping there was just one more drop. "But your cum...it's amazing. I don't know if you've ever tasted it -- "

"I haven't," he interrupted, and pulled her hand away from his cock.

"The taste," she continued," the feeling it gives me...it's indescribable."

"Daph, we're still friends, but I need you to give me my spare key back."

She nodded in understanding, but he could see the hurt look on her face. Hesitating for a second, she pulled it from her pocket and slowly handed it back to him. "I'm sorry, Eric. I didn't mean for it to happen, but I couldn't stop myself."

"You're my best friend, Daph. And I'm taking the key away because I don't want anything to change that."

As she nodded again, tears welling in her eyes, he looked over her shoulder. "Is that yours?"

She turned to look and wiped a tear from her eye. "What?"

"The pomegranate by the mirror," he said, "is that yours?"

She walked over and picked it up. "No, but I can cut it open if you want to share it for breakfast before we go."

"No!" he said, and jumped out of bed and snatched it out of her hand.

"Fine," Daphne said, "you don't have to share. Are you still going to drive me to work? Or do I have to start taking the bus?"

"What? Of course not, you're still my best friend and always will be." Eric was completely naked but, seeing as how she'd just sucked his cock dry, didn't see any reason to try to hide it.

He pulled Daphne close, hugging her head to his chest, and she wrapped her arms around him as if she was never going to let him go.

"I'm not going to lie to you," he said. "When I woke up and you were sucking on me, it felt amazing; I've never come so hard.

"But it just...isn't meant to be that way between us. I can't explain why, I just know. I'm not saying this to hurt you -- I never want to hurt you -- but I don't want to be your boyfriend, your lover or your fuckbuddy...I want to be your friend.

"And I hope you realize some day that of the four choices, the last one is by far the best for both of us."

Daphne nodded her head and hugged him tighter, and as he leaned down and kissed her soft, auburn hair, he knew she was crying.

Eric tilted her head back and saw the tears sliding down her cheeks, and he kissed her softly on her lips, a kiss she would remember until her last breath, and said, "I love you, Daph."

And as he went to the bathroom to get ready, pomegranate in hand, she wiped her tears and knew that he was right, they were meant to love each other, not be lovers.

Inside the bathroom, Eric flicked open his straight razor and made six gentle cuts along the flesh of the fruit. Prying it open he saw the seeds within, glowing like tiny rubies.

The dream was real. This was a gift from his dark Mistress, a reward from beyond the mirror. But if the fruit had found it's way to him, how long would it be until she followed.

Eric pried the seeds away from the membranes with his fingers and turned them in his hand, watching them pulse with life, tempting him. He remembered the nightmare, remembered his dark Mistress demanding that he lead her to the doorway to his world. And then he looked at the glowing seeds in his hand, pulsing like a beacon.

Eric turned his hand over and watched the seeds tumble into the toilet. Breaking apart the rest of the pomegranate, he threw the remainder of the seeds and broken flesh into the porcelain bowl. And then, after pushing down the silver handle, he watched as the white flesh and blood red seeds swirled round and round until they finally disappeared.

Clear water flooded back into the bowl, and Eric checked to make sure every trace of the pomegranate was gone. But as he looked at the water, and saw his own reflection, he knew he was being watched.

* * *

As they drove to work together, Eric was lost in thought. His dream of his dark mistress was like nothing he'd ever experienced, and even though he'd seen the pomegranate he couldn't believe his dream of pain was real.

No man could have taken the brutally sweet punishment that she'd dished out. And even though the taste of pain was still fresh, his body didn't bear any marks like it had the last time he'd stepped through the mirror.

Eric also wondered about his beautiful slave, lying on the edge of the pool by the mysterious golden box. Was she asleep? Was she dead? He didn't know if you could even die in a dream, but he knew as her Master he needed to find her, needed to care for her.

And as he remembered her soft skin, her silky hair, Eric felt more relaxed than he had in weeks, but as he glanced at Daphne, he suspected it had more to do with the blowjob she'd given him than any dream.

Daphne was watching him, and wondered if he was being so quiet because he was still thinking about what she'd done. "I never thought I'd have to say this to any guy...but I just wanted to apologize again for sucking you off this morning."

Eric took her hand and gave her a warm smile, and she blushed as he said, "Apology accepted."

And then, still holding his hand, Daphne said, "What does Neverborn mean?"

Eric pulled his hand away and gripped the steering wheel, fighting to keep his focus on the road. "Who...I mean, where did you hear that?"

"From you. This morning when you were dreaming, and I was...trying to wake you up...you kept mumbling it."

"I don't know what it means, or why I said it, but -- and don't tell anyone else about this -- I've been having these crazy nightmares about sirens."

"Police or ambulance?"

"Huh?"

"Are you dreaming about police or ambulance sirens? I did a psychology course at college and we did a section on dreams. I think sirens mean that you're ignoring something in your waking life...or that your alarm clock is going off."

Eric smiled, wishing it were that simple. "They weren't those kind of sirens. They were the singing kind...you know...women."

"I can imagine what you've been dreaming about doing with them, based on the massive erections you keep waking up with."

Eric blushed. "Yeah, the dreams have been pretty realistic. This morning when you were sucking on me...I was dreaming that I was screwing one of them."

Now it was Daphne's turn to blush, and she brushed a lock of her auburn hair behind her ear. "Well, dreaming of sirens isn't unheard of; Dante dreamed of sirens."

"Dante?"

"The Italian poet...wrote the Divine Comedy..."

"Yeah, I know that...I think...I meant, how did he dream of sirens?"

"Well, he didn't dream of them. He wrote about a dream of them in the nineteen canto of Purgatory."

"Did he say what the sirens looked like?"

"There was only one. She was a deformed hag, but she transformed before his eyes into a vision of desire."

"They can change how they look?"

"She didn't change; what changed was Dante's perception of her. It's all about how we perceive sin. We initially see it as ugly, but when the change happens it isn't because sin has in itself become less ugly, it's our perception of it that makes it so."

"I'm not sure I understand," said Eric, trying to remember everything the sirens had said and done in his dreams.

"It's sort of like watching porn. We know there's something wrong about it but we gloss over it, even tolerate it, and in the end deny it to be wrong at all. We come to think of it as beautiful, and once we've given it this pretense of right and beauty, we're powerless to escape it."

"You mean like bondage?" Eric said. "How some people think there's something wrong with it while others find it beautiful?"

"Wow. That's kind of random but, yeah, I guess so...what made you think of that?"

"I don't know...just because of the weird dreams I've been having I guess."

"Tonight you're definitely coming over for dinner. I'm cooking and I won't take no for an answer. I want to hear everything about these dreams."

* * *

Dinner was wonderful; Daphne was an amazing cook. Eric helped her take the dishes in the kitchen and offered to wash but she refused, telling him to relax in the living room until she was done.

He went to turn the TV on but hesitated, seeing his reflection in the glass of the big screen. Again, he had the feeling of being watched.

Standing, he went to the bathroom and shut the door. He reached out his fingers and touched the mirror...glass. That was all it was, silvered glass.

He shook his head, wondering if he was going crazy, but he knew his dreams had to be real...they had to be.

He turned on the tap and washed his hands and face, and as he dried them he watched his reflection in the mirror. Narrowing his eyes, he leaned closer to the glass...and saw a face.

Stumbling back he fell against the far wall. "Who's there?" he whispered.

As he watched, he saw her face coming through the mirror, as if surfacing from a pool -- his dark-haired slave girl.

And as her head emerged from beyond the mirror her full breasts followed, her erect nipples breaking the cool surface. She was naked except for her silver collar, and as she leaned her head and torso halfway through the mirror she reached out for Eric with her hand.

Eric took it, and when he did he was drawn through the mirror into the beyond.

Looking back through the portal, he saw Daphne enter the bathroom, searching for him. But she couldn't see him through the mirror.

Eric drifted away from the portal, still holding his slave's hand, and said, "I saw you sleeping by a black pool, with a golden box by your side."

She tilted her head sideways and looked at him strangely. "That wasn't a doorway, that was a memory, of a long, long time ago when I searched for a lost lover. I haven't slept, or dreamed, for a very long time."

Eric looked around. "And this...this is real? It isn't a dream?"

"Dreams are real."

"Okay, but, what I mean is...am I awake?"

"Not yet, Master, but you will be. You must come with me; she's hunting for you. But I can take you to a safe place, where you can't hear her song and she won't be able to find you."

She took his hand and they glided past the endless doorways, near and far, and Eric felt drawn to every one. But she squeezed his hand and pulled him forward until they reached a golden doorway, and stepped through it into a stone chamber.

The chamber had no windows and only one door, not including the doorway they'd come through, an oval-shaped gilded mirror. The simple furnishings were carved from stone and were draped with rich red blankets and littered with red satin pillows.

"What is this place?"

"This is my home -- Helicon."

Eric went to look around but she grabbed his hand. "Master, you must choose soon. Time is running out."

"Tell me why, tell me why I have to choose."

"I can't."

Eric gave the same hand signal his Mistress had given him, and his slave immediately kneeled.

He stood in front of her, hands on his hips. "I order you to tell me why I must choose, slave."

She slumped her shoulders, and shook her head no.

"You must tell me, I am your Master!"

Eric saw twin tears rolling down her cheeks, as she looked up at him and nodded.

"Then you will tell me?"

She sadly shook her head no, and when she opened her mouth he saw two gold coins on her tongue.

Eric took one of the coins, but before he could take the other she closed her mouth. When she opened it again, the coin was gone. "I cannot say, Master. It is forbidden. Even if I tried to speak the words, all that would come out of my mouth would be gold."

Eric turned the coin over in his fingers, staring at it in wonder. The coin appeared to be ancient, and he believed the marks were Greek.

"Please, Eric, you must choose."

"Between what?"

"Between me and her...between pleasure and pain."

He turned away, deep in thought, and glanced back at her over his shoulder. "But she brings me both."

"I can bring you both too, Master. But when she gives you pain it is for her own pleasure; my pain and pleasure is all for you."

"Who is she? Can you tell me that?"

She hesitated, waiting for the taste of gold, but when it didn't appear she nodded.

"Is she a siren?"

She shook her head no. "The sirens serve her."

"Then who is she?"

"She is the bride of death."

Eric felt a chill as his blood froze cold. "Death...she wants to kill me?"

"No...she wants to use you. As her slave you would have to obey her every command. And she would command you to show her the way to your world, the way past the mirror."

"She wants to bring death into my world?"

"Death is already in your world; she wants to escape death."

"And what about you...what do you want?"

She shook her head. "I cannot say, Master."

Eric walked around the room, and as he did, he felt like he'd been here before. He lifted a pillow knowing what he'd find: a ball gag and a length of rope.

"I am your only Master," he said. "If you cannot speak, it will be because I do not allow it."

He walked back to her and she tilted her head as he secured the ball gag in place. Bending her over a stone slab, he worked swiftly with the rope, his fingers tying unknown knots with practiced precision.

When he'd started to bind her he felt like a sculptor working in the dark, but now that he was finished he saw the true beauty of his creation.

His slave was kneeling before him, with ropes wrapped tightly across her shoulders and breasts, and her arms behind her, with her forearms and wrists bound together and tied to her ankles.

She was helpless as he lifted her in his strong arms and carried her to a stone sofa. He held her against him as he leaned back against the pillows, resting her on his lap so that she faced him, straddling his cock.

"You are my slave, I can do anything I want with you."

She nodded, even though she knew it wasn't a question, but a statement.

Eric reached his hands behind her and squeezed her beautiful ass, sliding her forward along his stiff cock until her breasts were near enough to kiss.

He flicked his tongue across both of her nipples, and as he blew softly on them they grew erect. Sucking on them, he grabbed her hips and rocked her back and forth, feeling her pussy sliding against his shaft, making it slick with her juices.

Continuing to tease her nipples, he lifted her ass up high enough so that he could guide his cock to her opening, and she groaned through the ball gag as he forced her down.

Her tight pussy was spread wide as her Master shoved his thick pole deep inside her. She was helpless as he bounced her up and down, the only noise in the stone chamber was the sound of their bodies slapping together.

Eric reached behind his slave, watching her eyes the whole time, and grabbed the ropes that bound her. She winced as he wrenched them down, using them to drive her on and off his cock. Her head slumped forward and she let out a low moan, not from the pain, but from pleasure.

"Tell me," he said.

When she shook her head no he fucked her even harder, impaling her on his cock and listening to her stifled cries through the ball gag. Her bound breasts bounced up and down as he mercilessly drove her down on his shaft as hard as he could, pushing them both towards the edge, but then he stopped.

She slumped forward, resting against his shoulder, exhausted from being fucked so well, and then she heard it too -- the song of the sirens.

Her eyes went wide as she shook her head, trying to shake the ball gag loose. When Eric removed it she gasped for air, and then twisted around to look at the mirror.

"No," she said. "She can't find this place, she doesn't -- "

And then she turned to stare at Eric. "Master, did you see her again...in your dreams?"

"Last night," he said, "I dreamed of pain. And she was the one who brought it."

"And did you eat anything?"

"Not in the dream..."

"What do you mean?"

"When I awoke there was a pomegranate. I think she left it for me."

"She is near," she whispered. "Did you eat any of it...even one single seed?"

"No, I cut it to pieces and got rid of it." But then Eric remembered.

When he'd been driving to work with Daphne, he'd felt something sticky on his hand, and when he'd put his knuckle to his lips he'd tasted it, the taste of pomegranate. Some of the juice from the seeds must have dried on his hand when he was cutting it up.

"I just had a taste, the tiniest taste."

"Oh no, Eric," she whispered.

And then his dark mistress appeared, stepping through the mirror.

Her eyes smoldered with rage when she saw the two of them. "How dare you share your body with another...without my permission!"

She grabbed his slave by her dark hair and wrenched her off his cock, tossing her hard to the floor.

She struggled to get to her feet, but she was still tightly bound. And when she tried to talk, tried to warn her master, she tasted the two gold coins on her tongue.

The dark mistress grabbed Eric by his hair and forced him to his knees. "You accepted my gift...you chose me. You're mine now."

She dragged him back through the mirror and through the beyond, and he watched as the doorway where he'd left his slave faded away like a memory. All of the doorways faded as his dark Mistress carried him home, to the dungeon.

* * *

Once they were inside, she forced him down on the cold stone floor. "How dare you love another...how dare you love anyone other than your Mistress.

"Neverborn you may be, but you are still only a mortal, and so is she. How can you compare her to me, a Goddess? Lick my boot, slave, show me how sorry you are."

"Yes, Mistress," Eric said, and crawled forward and licked her boot. As she watched, he trailed kisses up her leg until he reached the top of her boot, halfway up her thigh.

Glancing up he could see her pussy, perfectly shaved and glistening with anticipation. She nodded her consent and he reached up with his tongue, licking her. She wrapped her fingers through his hair as she hiked her leather dress up and guided his tongue across her swollen pussy and clit.

Moaning in satisfaction as her slave pleased her, she finally pushed his head away and turned around, facing the table as she leaned against it.

He waited, unsure what was expected of him, but then she showed him.

She grabbed his hair and pulled his face between the cheeks of her ass. He could smell her musk as he circled his tongue around her puckered hole. She sighed as he swirled his tongue around, licking it and tickling it with the tip.

"Mmm...very good, slave. Now, I think I'd enjoy a little penetration."

Eric stood up; his cock was rock hard. He stepped near, wondering which hole his Mistress wanted fucked first.

She turned angrily around and shoved him away, glaring at his throbbing erection. "You thought you could penetrate me? I'm a Goddess!" She reached back and felt the orifice he'd just tongued so well. "This hole is sacred."

She forced him to kneel on the floor, eyes down as she circled him. Finally, she spoke. "Get up, slave, it's time for some penetration."

Eric looked up and his eyes went wide in fear. Around her waist was strapped a sinister looking dildo. It was dark purple, huge and had a nasty curve.

"Bend over the table, slave Eric, so your Mistress can fuck you."

Eric swallowed hard; he knew that thing would tear him apart. He'd never even let a girl stick a finger in his ass.




Dream Siren



His dark dominatrix was growing angry as he made her wait, but he tried to stall for time. "Mistress, let me please you some more...with my tongue."

He reached for her leg and she kicked his hand away. "You'll be punished for talking without permission, slave Eric, but there is one thing you can do with your tongue."

"Yes, Mistress," he said, getting to his knees, "anything."

She leaned forward and grabbed his hair, pressing the strap-on dildo against his lips. "Lick my cock...suck it...get it ready for your ass."

Eric knew he had no choice; he stretched his lips around the cold shaft, gagging as she forced it deep. He tried to wrap his hand around it, to stop her from going deeper, but she slapped it away and ordered him to keep his arms at his sides.

He struggled to suck it, wondering how Daphne had made it look so easy this morning.

His Mistress saw how he could barely get his mouth around it and smiled. "If you can't get it in your mouth, imagine what it's going to be like when I'm fucking your ass. It's going to hurt, slave Eric, it's going to hurt a lot...probably the most pain you've ever felt. But imagine the pleasure that will follow."

Eric's jaw ached, and he wondered if he'd even survive being torn in two by her monster cock.

"That's enough," she said, and went to push him away.

But Eric didn't want to stop, he kept on sucking knowing that as soon as he stopped, it was going to be in his ass.

His Mistress kneed him away and he gasped for air as the dildo popped out of his mouth. She told him to bend over the table, and when he tried to run the invisible hands seized him and threw him face down on it.

He felt them wrenching his legs apart and pulling his arms across the table; the same position he'd had his slave girl in two nights earlier.

"No, Mistress, please..." He felt the dildo pressing against his virgin hole, and shouted his safeword.

But she ignored it. He said it over and over but she ignored it as she pressed forward, and he groaned as he felt the tip of the dildo stretching him wide.

She leaned over him and hissed in his ear. "Do you want me to stop, slave?"

He nodded urgently.

"Then show me, Neverborn, show me the path to your world!"

He knew he could do it, knew he could easily take her back to Daphne's mirror, but he dreaded the consequences. "I don't know the path," he lied.

"That's too bad," she said, as she spread the cheeks of his ass wide. "You dreamed of pain, and now I'm going to give you more pain than you ever dreamed of." She was just getting ready to thrust her hips forward, to bury her dildo to the hilt in Eric's ass, to rape him as she was once raped, when a butterfly landed on the table.

She stopped in puzzlement, and then heard a voice behind her.

"Set him free, Persephone."

The dark dominatrix spun around and saw the slave girl, untied now.

"Who are you? Who dares speak the name of the Mistress of the Underworld?"

The slave girl stepped into the light. "Can it have been so long that you've truly forgotten me? Once you lent me a box that was supposed to hold the secret of your divine beauty, but you tricked me..."

Persephone's eyes opened wide as they flooded with recognition. "Psyche?"

Psyche nodded and stepped toward Eric, who didn't understand what was going on or recognize either of their names. "Command your sirens to release him."

"No, the Neverborn is mine. I found him...he chose me. He's going to show me the way back, the way back from the Underworld."

"He is not a Neverborn."

"He is, I can sense it. He lives in the world, but he has no mother or father."

"What are you talking about," said Eric. "I've got a mother and father."

Persephone stepped toward him and gave him a patronizing smile. "Then tell me their names, Neverborn."

Eric went to talk, but his memory of them suddenly seemed like a dream; he could see their faces, but he couldn't remember their names.

"You see," she said, glancing at Psyche, "he is a Neverborn. His soul has journeyed to the world through the beyond, and he entered through a mirror, not a womb."

"I am his soul," Psyche said. "And his parents are Heaven and Earth."

When Persephone heard the words she stared at Psyche, and then slowly turned to Eric as it all came clear. "Then he is..."

Psyche nodded and Persephone swept her arms upward, her spell instantly replacing her dominatrix outfit with a plain white robe, and commanded her sirens to release him.

Eric stepped away from the table and rubbed his sore limbs. "I don't understand...who are you? And my parents...my life...why can't I remember?"

Psyche stepped forward and caressed his cheek. "I have chased you across Eternity, through the gates of the Underworld as Worry and Sadness whipped and tortured me. And when we finally found each other you told me you'd love me until the end of time. But that is a long time to wait, and you eventually dreamed a dream of pain. After all of the pleasure you'd brought, you wanted to taste the other side of the coin.

"Can't you see them, Eric, waiting there in front of you? Hasn't your sight returned yet? Shall I blindfold you and burn you with hot oil from a lamp again, will that be enough pain to make you remember?

"Or shall I have you stung by bees, to remind you that even the smallest creature has inflicted more pain than you ever did.

"You have to remember me, my love, you gave me immortality.

"The poets wrote odes to us. 'Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind'. Close your eyes, Eric, and remember."

He still didn't understand what was going on, but he closed his eyes. And when he did, his mind was opened; he could see the doorways, the mirrors looking into infinite lives, infinite loves, calling him.

He saw Daphne at dinner with Saul, and knew she was waiting for him.

And then he saw the bow and the quiver of arrows, floating in front of him, and he reached out blindly and wrapped his hand around them, feeling their familiar touch.

When they appeared in his hand, tears flowed down Psyche's cheeks and Persephone kneeled before him.

Rushing forward to wrap her arms around her eternal lover, Psyche cried, "Eros!"

Eros pulled her close and kissed her hard, all of his memories returned. "I'm sorry I left you, Psyche, but I felt as if I was fading away, being forgotten. Once, I was a god, but now I'm just a myth, a story. I needed to feel something...anything...and I thought if I could be mortal for just a year, if I could feel their pain."

"I know," she said, "that's why Venus wouldn't let me tell you the truth, tell you who I was. But when I told her Persephone had found you she let me come, and told me to wake you from your dream of pain.

"And to let you know that they haven't forgotten you Eros, they still worship you as Cupid. Today is your day, and they await the sweet sting of your arrows."

Psyche brushed the back of her fingers across her lover's cheek. "Always remember...Omnia vincit amor -- Love Conquers All."

* * *

Daphne leaned against the inside of her door and couldn't help smiling. She was surprised at how well the date had gone.

At first she thought she'd made a mistake, as it seemed that there wasn't any spark between her and Saul. But halfway through dinner it hit her like an arrow through the heart. He laughed and the way he laughed made her laugh.

He took her hand and didn't let go until he kissed her goodbye outside her door. She'd been tempted to invite him inside, but figured she'd better save something for the second date.

On the table, still unopened, was the Valentine card she'd bought for Eric.

Daphne still wasn't sure what had happened to him the night before. He'd disappeared while she was doing the dishes and at first she was hurt, that he'd take off without saying goodbye, but she knew that wasn't Eric. He couldn't hurt anyone.

She assumed he'd gone back to his apartment; she knew he hadn't slept well lately because of his weird dreams and figured maybe he'd just desperately needed some rest.

But when she'd knocked on his door this morning to give him his card, he hadn't answered. She wondered if he'd had Valentine's plans of his own, but she checked the underground parking and his car was still in its stall.

After returning to her apartment to get the spare key, she remembered he'd taken it back. She was so worried she'd nearly canceled her date with Saul. But after what had happened the morning before, she knew she had to give him his space. At least until after her date was over.

She picked up his card and went and knocked on his door, and felt a surge of relief when she heard him coming down the hallway to answer it.

Daphne stepped back in surprise when a tall stranger answered the door.

"Hi, can I help you," he asked.

"Umm...I need to talk to Eric," she said, looking past him at the strange furniture in the apartment.

"You've got the wrong apartment, no Eric here." He went to shut the door but she quickly put out her hand to stop him.

"Wait a second...my best friend lives here. Eric!" she cried into the apartment.

A woman came walking down the hallway. "What's going on, Frank?"

He looked at Daphne like she was crazy. "This girl thinks some guy named Eric lives here."

"He does live here!" Daphne said, fighting not to cry. "I just saw him yesterday..."

The woman, seeing how upset she was, stepped past her husband and tried to calm Daphne down. "Maybe you're on the wrong floor? Your friend can't live here -- we've been renting this apartment since last June."

Daphne staggered back in disbelief, the card tumbling to the floor.

She turned as the landlady, Violet, came walking down the hallway.

"Violet! What's going on, why are these people in Eric's apartment?"

The landlady blinked in confusion. "Eric? Who is Eric, Daphne?"

She squeezed her head between her hands; she thought she was going insane. "Eric, he lives here! You see us come in from work together every day. I brought him a Valentine!"

She grabbed the envelope and tore it open, wanting to show them the heartfelt message she'd sat up half the night writing him. Sobbing, she let the card tumble to the floor -- it was blank.

* * *

Saul waited for Daphne to get better, to be released from the hospital, but no one was sure what had caused her breakdown. No one knew who this Eric was, the mystery man that she claimed drove her to work each day.

They showed her the personnel records, showed her there was no Eric. And when Saul explained that it was he, not this Eric, who gave her a ride to and from work every day, she refused to believe him.

But Saul waited; he wouldn't give up on her. They'd driven to work together for nearly a year before she'd finally agreed to go out with him, so he could wait a little longer...wait for her to remember, to wake up from her dream.

And that was what Daphne eventually convinced herself it must have been, a dream. The proof was there; Eric had never existed anywhere but in her mind. But he had seemed so real...so good...almost too good to be true.

When she was finally released and saw that Saul was still waiting, and hadn't given up on her, she knew she'd found her true love. They were married three months later.

He was glad that she was back to normal, glad to see that she'd given up her delusions of 'Eric'. But he didn't notice when she'd bring home books on dreams and books on mythology, highlighting the chapters on the sirens. Or when she'd bring home works by Virgil, Dante and Shakespeare, poring over them like they were roadmaps.

One night she'd stayed up well after Saul had gone to bed, falling asleep with a copy of A Midsummer Night's Dream on her chest.

When she opened her eyes the room was dark, but she felt as if she was being watched. She was fumbling half asleep for the light switch when she saw a silhouette crouched in the corner of the room, beside the mirror on the wall.

She was just about to scream for her husband when she heard his voice, heard him whisper, "Daph."

Daphne leaped out of her chair and fell into his arms. "Eric," she cried, tears streaming down her face. "I knew you were real, I knew I wasn't crazy."

"Daph," he said, kissing her tears away. "It was only a dream."

"What do you mean?" she sobbed, brushing her fingers against his cheek to make sure he was real.

"My name isn't Eric, it's Eros."

"Eros...the God of Love?"

He nodded. "Yes, and the time I spent with you was a dream, one that I'll never forget. But when the dream was over, everyone was meant to forget that Eric ever existed, and everyone did, except for you."

"I could never forget you."

"I know," he smiled, "no one alive will ever know that I once walked your world but you. For that morning when you crept into my bed and knew me, and tasted me, you gained the gift of memory."

"Good, because I don't want to ever forget you," she said, hugging him tightly. "And if this is a dream I don't want to ever wake up, I love you."

"I love you, too," he said, "that's why I returned, because I never had the chance to say goodbye."

Daphne squeezed him tighter, she didn't want to let him escape again. "Don't say goodbye. I don't want you to ever go. I missed you so much."

Eros held her close, and kissed her soft auburn hair as he brushed a lock behind her ear. "I must go. As I always told you, we were not meant for each other.

"Saul loves you and you love him, and the two of you were destined to be together. You can never forget me now, because of the morning we spent together, but you need to try not to think of me. Enjoy your life with Saul, have children, and live your life to its fullest."

Daphne stared up into his eyes, and in their dark depths she could see golden doorways. "Will I ever see you again?"

"You will never see me again in this lifetime, but you will see me in your dreams. And every time you do, remember -- dreams are real."

He kissed her softly on the lips and, as he did, she closed her eyes and fell into a dream.

Laying her gently back in the chair where he'd found her, Eros leaned close and whispered in her ear:

"Live your life well, Daphne. And when life brings you pain, don't despair, for when you draw your last breath, and close your eyes for the last time, I will return for you, and we will be together forever in the beyond."