Dream On
Melanie Holt opened her apartment door and closed it carefully, resisting an urge to slam it.
Some days at work were enough to make a grown woman cry—or grab a gun and shoot everyone in sight. Of course, being alone on Friday night wasn’t helping her mood.
After a quick shower, Melanie logged onto the Internet, eating a microwaved chicken dinner. She went to Simon Bar Sinister’s Erotic Mind Control Archive, read a few of the stories, and chuckled at the thought of getting herself a magic amulet to hypnotize someone into being her sex slave. In the real world, attractive women like herself were competing with other attractive women... more like she wished someone would make her into a sex slave...
..now where had that idea come from?
She went into her bedroom and undressed. An unfamiliar urge drove her to face the mirrored closet door and regard herself. Attractive...not necessarily beautiful. Her face, particularly, was a bit too angular...but her body was nicely shaped, the product of fanatical workouts at her local fitness center.
She knelt on the floor, knees widely spread, and began running her hands over her body, bringing herself to a state of sexual arousal. Soon, she was stroking her 36D breasts, playing with the nipples, bending her head down to suck them...
...Melanie masturbated before the mirror, pretending to be the helpless slave of the woman before her, merely the slave of her own mirror image, forced to masturbate as she did...the fantasy, strange to her, aroused her more and more as she fingered her pussy and sucked her own nipples. Soon, she had a strong orgasm, one of the most intense she’d had in a long time...Another strange impulse struck her, and she began licking the pussy pussy juice from her fingers, savoring the unfamiliar taste...as if her double were forcing her to enjoy...
The woman in the mirror crawled toward the magic boundary of the mirror, and Melanie went with the fantasy, crawling in mirror image...she kissed the mirror, pretending to French-kiss her double...for a brief moment, she lost herself so completely to the fantasy that she imagined she’d actually felt the brunette’s tongue sliding in and out of her mouth...
...the mirror was wet with her own saliva...the fantasy dissipated, leaving her to wonder where it came from...
“Melanie, you need to get laid...”
From another mystical plane, which Melanie could not hear or see, a female voice answered, “Yes, you do, my sweet...and soon enough, you will...”
Melanie warmed a glass of milk in the microwave, drank it, and went to bed.
Melanie was at her gym, apparently by herself.
She went from the aerobics room to the free weights, seeing no one...and yet she knew she was being watched.
She entered the locker room...and froze.
There, on the carpeted floor (carpet? didn’t it just have tile flooring?), a fortyish redhead—quite stunning, actually—was being eaten out by a voluptuous blonde.
With a start, she recognized the two women from her aerobics class. Jeanne...Tarleton, that was it, and Angela Johnson.
Apparently, Angela was quite good at eating pussy, because Jeanne was soaked in sweat and writhing, close to a powerful orgasm.
Melanie was surprised to find herself becoming intensely aroused by the scene before her. She’d never thought of herself as a voyeur. She’d had an occasional lesbian fantasy now and then, but had never acted on it...
Jeanne suddenly arched her back and screamed, bucking and thrashing her hips against Angela’s face. The redhead’s orgasm seemed last a good minute before she finally collapsed back onto the floor, panting.
Jeanne turned her head and saw Melanie. Without apparent effort, she rolled to her feet and walked to where Melanie stood. Her eyes glowed with a strange green light...a necklace with a brilliant emerald suddenly appeared in Jeanne’s hand.
“This is a dream, Melanie. You can surrender to the dream. No responsibilities, no consequences...just the fantasy...”
Melanie found her eys being drawn to the emerald as it swayed from side to side. She could see Angela standing up and walking across the room to a point behind her.
“Gaze at the emerald and surrender to its power...you can have the dream...it’s only a dream...we will teach you in the art of pleasuring our Mistress...”
Melanie felt her eyes beig drawn to the stone. A last spark of rational thought said that this was dangerous...
...but this was only a dream...
The emerald began to glow. “Join us, Melanie...you want to become one of us...enter our world...”
Melanie swallowed and let herself go. The emerald’s glow seemed to reach out and surround her, taking her arousal and raising it to heights she’d never felt...
Suddenly, Melanie found herself sandwiched between Jeanne and Angela; Angela’s hands were caressing her breasts, while Jeanne’s tongue snaked into her mouth...then she was floating on her back in midair, Angela’s tongue—even better than she’d thought—touching all of the magic places in her pussy...she was eating Jeanne, somehow knowing exactly how to please the older woman... now she ate Angela to orgasm, savoring the different taste of the blonde’s juices...
...and now she was in a richly appointed bedroom, kneeling on the bed, waiting...waiting for her Mistress...to be made into a slave...
...Jeanne appeared, red hair flowing in a wind that only she felt. 36C breasts, just smaller than Melanie’s, rode proudly from her chest, erect nipples that seemed to both harmonize and contrast with the long black dildo strapped to her crotch...she smelled of jasmine perfume...
...the dildo was pumping in and out of Melanie’s snatch, and now Angela was sucking her tits...then Angela sat on Melanie’s face...
...After what seemed to be several hours and many orgasms, Melanie finally came in a long, intense orgasm that seemed to cleanse her mind of thought, of will, of everything but...
...a voice. Jeanne’s. Saying the same thing, over and over again. “Melanie, when you hear my voice saying, “Dream on,” you will once again surrender to the emerald’s power...surrender...surrender...and if you are alone in your apartment you will...”
Jeanne’s voice continued, giving her instructions... their content seemed unimportant, but Melanie knew she would obey.
“And now, you must awaken...you will not remember anything of tonight’s dream...”
Melanie woke up, briefly uncertain of her whereabouts.
Her bedclothes were soaked with sweat...and pussy juice...and she felt satiated.
Damn, that must’ve a GOOD dream. Best sex she’d ever had... too bad it was only a dream...heck, too bad she couldn’t remember it...
She showered, then got dressed in jeans and T-Shirt—it was Saturday, after all—and cleaned up her apartment, taking a special pride in its neatness.
That afternoon, she went to an adult bookstore and bought several lesbian videos without asking herself why she was doing so. She found herself carefully scrutinizing the brand, looking for a specific series of amatuer and pro-am tapes. The clerk was vaguely surprised; those tapes seemed to attract a certain clientele, always classy women.
When she go home, Melanie put in one of the tapes she’d bought. The title was “Women Entranced, Volume I.”
As was to be expected, there was no heavy-duty plot, just some vignettes that surrounded very good-looking women having sex with each other. Almost of the stories revolved around a beautiful woman entrancing another beautiful woman; the two women would then make love, and then the second woman would lead off the next vignette as the seductress...
The last vignette featured, to Melanie’s mild surprise, that redheaded woman from her aerobics class, Jeanne Tarleton. In this scene, a lovely black woman named Cassandra, tall and muscular in a sensually feminine way, entranced Jeanne with a sapphire necklace, hypnotizing Jeanne with a low, resonant voice.
Soon, Jeanne and Cassandra were in bed, licking each other in a passionate 69. Melanie found herself getting wet, and began to stroke her pussy lips. Something held her back from actually bring herself to orgasm; instead, she aroused herself mercilessly.
The vignette ended with Cassandra giving Jeanne a long, powerful screw with a strap-on dildo. A vague sense of deja vu crossed Melanie’s mind, but her arousal kept her from thinking too much about it—or anything else.
Kneeling before her mirror again. The fantasy of the mirror Melanie enslaving her, then crossing through to the real Melanie’s side of the mirror was intoxicating.
“Dream on,” said Melanie.
An outside observer would have been surprised to see a green glow fill Melanie’s brown eyes.
From Melanie’s perspective, nothing happened...except that the mirror Melanie began caressing herself, forcing her—the “real” Melanie (or was she?)—to match every move.
Suddenly, the mirror Melanie froze for a moment, then began crawling to the mirror. Melanie found herself unable to move as the other Melanie broke through the mirror into the real world. No reflection remained in the mirror...
“I’ve got something for you, you little slut. You’ve always been a narcisstic little bitch, and now you get to prove it,” the mirror Melanie said, an evil leer on her face.
The mirror Melanie stood and walked close to the kneeling Melanie. “Eat me, slut. Make your Mirror Mistress come!”
Melanie found herself able to move again, at least enough to pleasure her mirror self. She did so enthusiastically, taking her time...if she was going to be a slave to her double, the double could deal with desire turned into torture...
Finally, just as the mirror Melanie was on the brink, Melanie shoved a pussy juice-lubricated finger up her double’s ass. Mirror Melanie screamed in ecstasy, collapsing backwards onto the floor.
A soft sound made Melanie turn.
Jeanne Tarleton stood nude before her, holding the necklace with the emerald pendant. “Dream on, Melanie.”
Melanie felt herself surrendering to the emerald’s power...all thought gone...only a desire to take her place as a slave to Mistress Jeanne...
An outside observer would have seen no one else in the room, only a sleepwalking Melanie disappearing into a green fog...and then the fog dissipating.
...Mirror Melanie was beside her, eyes glowing green...
...Mistress Jeanne’s hands moved, causing Melanie to float in midair on her back...Mirror Melanie was floating above her, glistening snatch in front of the real Melanie’s face...sensation of a tongue on her clit...she tasted herself again...
Jeanne spoke as the two identical women sixty-nined each other, a smile on her face. “Welcome to the new world, Melanie and Mirror Melanie. Immortality and pleasure... the stuff of dreams...you are ours now. Leave the old behind, embrace the new...”
The two Melanies were lowered gently to the floor, where they assumed a kneeling position before their Mistress...
TWO WEEKS LATER
Melanie watched with idle interest as the police searched her apartment, seeking clues to her whereabouts. An attractive female officer walked straight through her kneeling dream form, and she turned to her Mistress, an unspoken question on her face.
“Not yet, Melanie.” Jeanne’s hand reached out, stroking Melanie’s hair. “You have much to learn...but you have an eternity to learn it...soon, you will be like me. Now, you and your double are slaves; soon you will be Mistresses, masters of dream magic.”
Melanie turned and watched Mirror Melanie getting eaten out by Angela.
Jeanne’s voice broke in gently. “Come, my sweet, and pleasure your Mistress.”
Melanie stood and gently pushed Mistress Jeanne back onto the bed, then lay down on top of the redhead...
Detective Sergeant Janice Granger couldn’t figure this one out. Melanie Holt had left her apartment as neat as a pin, then stepped seemingly into thin air...