Hazel and Chester sat in complete darkness. The two of them were locked in a Cranial Pressure Chamber. They dealt in the manipulation of the subconscious, a pseudo-scientific endeavor, spearheaded by the great Dr. Glaznoch. Their current mission was the extraction of a dream from a new patient. The patient was some fellow in a coma that Dr. Glaznoch had brought in for special treatment. He had said it was of utmost urgency. Neither Chester nor Hazel were given more information than that. They did not need more information. All they needed to know was the description of the dream they were hunting and removing.

   Hazel pushed a button on a hand held remote and a small dial in front of them lit the tiny chamber with a dull glow. "Mental Pressure is reaching target point. We'll be entering the subconscious state in just about forty seconds."

    "Roger that," replied Chester. He tugged a little at his helmet. This item protected his head from the building pressure in the chamber, and it also connected him to the patient.

   "Ten seconds," Hazel said, "Five, four, three, two, one." Both Hazel and Chester felt a tug at the base off their skulls. Both went limp at the controls and both entered the subconsciousness of their patient. They felt a jostle from side to side, then a sort of drop with a sudden stop. They were now in the patient's subconscious mind. In front of them a door opened, flooding the room with light. They stepped out into a strange, ever changing, ever solid, landscape.

   The world into which they stepped, was brightly lit, with a sky blue dome over head. The ground seemed to be made of a dull pink stone, which shimmered and swirled. The patterns shifted this way and that, but the physical structure of the material stayed the same shape. These two colors, the pink and blue, dominated the landscape. In fact, nothing else was present. Hazel and Chester stood in a veritable desert of pink.

   "Well this is quite unexpected." Hazel said. She pulled a tool from her belt and powered it on. It whirred and whistled for a few seconds and then displayed a few numbers. "It looks as though we are the only things here. Literally, nothing else seems to exist in his subconscious."

   "That can't be right." Chester glanced at the numbers on the tool. "Scan again. If those numbers come up again we'll need to contact Doctor Glaznoch pronto."

   Hazel ran the machine again, and the result was the same.

   Chester clenched his jaw, "I'll establish the connection. We have to contact Glaznoch to figure out what is happening." There was an urgency in Chester's voice that Hazel didn't argue with.

   "Okay," she replied, "What do you think is going on here?"

   Chester looked around, "I don't know, I've never seen anything like it. It is sort of like the patient has ceased to think altogether."

   Hazel looked around as Chester prepared the Convo-Link.

   "Chester, what's that over there." She pointed to a small round disc sitting on a pile of rocks. Chester looked up, but now that he was establishing the link, could not reply due to the concentration required. He could only watch with a slightly detached expression.

   Hazel walked over to the disc and picked it up. The disc was only five inches in diameter, and on its face was inscribed. "Subconscious compromised and deleted. Source code in hibernation. Machine in permanent shut down mode."

   "Uh, Chester." Hazel said, "I think we entered a machine, not a human."

The ghost entered the apartment with the same quick, confident stride she'd always entered it with in life. She was only half aware that she was a ghost, but didn't bother herself to be troubled by the thought. What she noticed, if anything, was having more strength than she'd had in quite some time. Where her body had been wasting away she was now thin but no longer emaciated. Death had undone all signs of her decline, except for the track marks sprinkled like freckles down the insides of her arms and backs of her knees. Now what propelled her more than anything was unfinished business.

As she walked into the living room her stride faltered. She felt a tug in her chest upon seeing one of the few places where she'd been happy. This was where, in the warmth of Hazel's embrace, she'd said I love you for the first time and meant it. At least... she’d thought she had meant it. In the end she had run away — first back to pills, then to needles, then from her job even though Hazel had struggled for months to cover for her, and then from Hazel herself as though there were nothing left to hold her down.

With a jolt she saw that all of the pictures of them together had been taken down. That hurt more than she would have expected, but at least she hadn’t been replaced. The walls and the mantle were bare.

In contrast, the rest of the apartment was cluttered. Hazel had always been neat and tidy before. Now, dirty clothes and used plates lay scattered haphazardly across the living room floor, couch, and coffee table. The ghost drifted to the kitchen where there were dirty dishes and cups stacked up in the sink. In the spare room, where Hazel kept her art supplies, everything was covered in a layer of dust as though it hadn't been disturbed in weeks.

That bothered the ghost, because art had been an important daily part of the other woman's life and the idea that it no longer was seemed alien and strange. Art was the reason they had met, after all. One day at work the marketing department had assigned Hazel to work with a sales team to come up with a new ad campaign design. At first Hazel had seem too tall, too big, too out of place, not the ghost’s type at all. Once she had her computer open and a stylus in her hand, however, it was clear that she wielded a kind of magic over form and color. There was an undeniable current that ran through both of them whenever their gazes met.

Romantic entanglements were discouraged by company policy. Much to the irritation of her friend in HR, who she occasionally had to bribe to keep covering for her, the ghost got a thrill out of dipping her pen in the company ink. One day over lunch and midday cocktails, when Hazel asked shyly if she might draw her sometime, the ghost had countered with an offer to pose nude. The tactic had spread a pretty blush across Hazel’s cheeks, but not distracted from how much food had still been on her plate at the end of the meal. Even then, at the very beginning, Hazel noticed, and her first instinct was to take care of her.

It bothered her to think that leaving the way she had might have wiped all that away.

Uncertain of what she would find, the ghost continued down the hallway to the bedroom. The door was barely open and no light seeped out through the sliver-sized gap, but she caught a trickle of escaping sound.

There were two figures in the darkened room, one in the bed curled beneath a mass of blankets still in her pajamas even though it was well past noon and another sitting on the edge of the mattress still in her dress suit from work. The ghost circled, eying the second person, who was saying, "Come on, that's the biggest load of bullshit I've ever heard. There’s no way you’re responsible!" But her voice got high and frustrated towards the end and fell short of sounding convincing.

The ghost knew her. Jo had never been much of a people person; ending up in Human Resources had either been a cosmic joke or darkly fitting. She was more of a tough love gal when she bothered to be kind so she seemed out of place here, trying to offer comfort when she was clearly bad at doing so. Still, the ghost appreciated that she was trying. Someone ought to. The ghost walked over and sat next to Jo, kissed her cheek, and the woman shivered without looking away from the cocoon of blankets.

It was fitting that the two of them were both here, the ghost thought. That cheered her up a little. Her two longest-held conquests... Although Jo had only been an on again off again affair when she was bored. Those flings had eventually trailed off into nearly nothing once she’d met Hazel, though. Now there they both were, still treading water and being tossed around in her wake. A strange sort of pride swept through her and she basked in it, feeling important and almost warm.

Hazel peered out of the blankets, her curly brown hair disheveled and falling in her red and puffy eyes. Though she was looking at Jo, the ghost pretended that she was looking at her instead.

“But she’s dead. Ariel is dead,” she rasped, sending a crack running through the ghost’s pretending. “I can't believe she's really gone...”

Ariel. The ghost shifted uncomfortably at the mention of her name, the one she’d almost forgotten just as she’d ignored being dead. Whatever warmth she'd briefly felt drained away with the reminder. A part of her knee passed through Jo’s leg and the woman shivered again.

Then, to make matters worse, Jo reached out and touched Hazel's cheek. Just like that, the ghost remembered in a flash of jealousy why they'd only had the one threesome. Of course Hazel was kind and sweet to everyone and it was painful to see her so wounded, but that was no excuse for Jo to get ideas and touch things that weren't hers. After all, it had only been a year since the ghost had last been in this apartment, and a year was nothing to the already dead.

“She's been gone a long time, Hazel.” Jo licked her lips nervously and her harsh tone became softer. “Look, I've known— I knew her longer than you did, and she was already fucked up when I met her. You’re a saint for wanting to help, but she was too far gone already.” Her hand slid tentatively from Hazel’s cheek to tuck some of the other woman’s unruly hair behind one ear. “She ran off and overdosed, for christ sake, she made her choice. Sorry, but that choice just wasn’t you.”

The ghost bared her teeth invisibly. She remembered meeting Jo, cutting her in on an illicit break room poker game as incentive not to report it. The bitch had cleaned up at that game and not been invited back again, but she had been fun for other illicit things. The three of them had even been together once, with the normally tightly wound Jo in the middle and gasping with pleasure under their hands and mouths. Hazel had been gentle; the ghost had been relentless. The ghost had held court over them like a queen commanding her subjects, and that was fine. But not this. Never this.

A moment passed while they both dropped their eyes. Jo dropped her hand, and the ghost was just about to untense when Hazel sat up and kissed Jo. There were tears in the kiss, but they already seemed to be drying. Rigid with surprise, it was a second or two before Jo began to kiss her back.

Furious, the ghost lept up and grabbed thoughtlessly for the nearest thing she could reach — a half empty glass of water on the bedside table. Her anger was a tangible force, flowing into her hand and giving it just enough solidity to grip, to throw. She threw it at the wall with all her strength and felt a deep satisfaction at the way it shattered.

Ariel was home and she was determine to defend what it had been, what it should always be. 

It was quiet but Simon woke up anyway, out of habit, and… stared blearily at his roommate in the bedroom doorway. Low light from the TV in the adjoining room crept in and illuminated his outline, flickering and mercurial. There were about three million things unusual about that, starting with breaking the unspoken arrangement of leaving each other alone after they turned in for the night. Not to mention the fact that his roommate was shirtless, wearing only a pair of loose-fitting pajama pants that dipped low on his hips.

Simon sat up quickly, letting the blanket and sheets pool protectively in his lap just in case. “Hey, uh… what’s up?”

They stared at each other for a moment until he felt restless, almost crawling out of his skin. Then his roommate shut the door, plunging them into the relative darkness of only the moonlight filtering in through the window panes. It took a moment for Simon’s eyes to adjust, but first he felt the mattress dip with new weight. A moment later he could see his roommate leaning towards him, bracing himself with a hand on the side of Simon’s far leg, breathing the same air — or would be if Simon were breathing.

Before he knew what was happening his roommate kissed him, at a speed just short of hesitant, with little pauses between movements that gave each of them the chance to pull back. Neither of them took that chance until Simon’s lungs were screaming for air and he gasped, leaning back against the headboard and gulping for breath.

“What, I, you?” Simon sputtered. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. He’d gotten so used to the wall being between them that he didn’t know what to make of it suddenly coming down. What had happened to forbidden getting him off? Because this was an unmistaken invitation, and god he wanted it.

He didn’t get an answer, not out loud. His roommate just looked at him, giving Simon’s memory of those slow-slung pajamas a chance to catch up, and then kissed him again. This time there were no pauses. Their bodies drew together, rolling and twisting in the blankets until blissfully horizontal, and Simon let out a giddy groan as his hand landed on his roommate’s hip and pushed the pajamas down because this was really happening.

It was so much better than listening through the wall. If Simon’s appetite was bottomless before, now it sent ravenous tremors through his entire body as he wrapped one hand around his roommate’s eager hard-on. Lying on his back, his dark-adjusted eyes saw the other man bite his lip, heard him moan, felt his roommate’s hips roll instinctively down. They were close enough that the friction was glorious.

All those nights of waiting until the last moment to touch himself, all the delayed gratification, was bearing down on him now. Simon knew he would come embarrassingly soon but his mind was too blown with pleasure to care. He still couldn’t quite believe this was really happening, couldn’t stop touching him, couldn’t stop kissing him in case this was a dream and stopping would make him wake up. His roommate didn’t seem to know where to put his hands, which Simon hadn’t expected, but finally they both settled on his ass and squeezed. The moan that rocked through him at the new stimulation knocked something loose inside and he convulsed, coming harder than he could ever remember doing before. Eyes dilated and unfocused, Simon just barely retained the presence of mind to keep his own hand pleasuring the man beneath him until there was a warm explosion within his fist and his roommate shouted into his shoulder, whole body going rigid for a moment until he relaxed against Simon with a soft gasp for air.

He drifts off into a light doze. This dream is something about oversleeping and being late to work, but he feels refreshingly unbothered by it. In fact, he’s in such a good mood that when one of the kids is sent home early from school for causing a scene with the frogs in science class, he takes her for ice cream before heading to the house. A great big father-daughter banana split, just what they always had when she was little, before the second baby. He orders and extra large one and she asks if he’s gone crazy. This mood is so good it’s like being drunk.

His roommate was shaking him gently awake. When he saw Simon’s eyes open he gave him a slow kiss. “Stay with me.”

“Hm?” Simon blinked slowly at him, not sleepy so much as peacefully sated. That was the answer to world peace right there, he thought. Fuck fighting, everyone should just have amazing sex all the time and let everything else go ignored.

Smiling softly, his roommate wrapped an arm around his waist. “I’ve got to admit, I didn’t think it would feel this good with a guy. I should have spent less time worrying about it and more time in here with you.”

Simon felt his cheeks growing faintly warmer. “Are you saying you knew?” And here he’d thought he was being so discreet. Always so quiet in his room. Always so hands to himself outside of it. Maybe not always so eyes to himself, but he was only human.

“Not until recently,” his roommate replied, and then sat up. “I kind of… felt you through the wall. I felt what you were doing.” He gave Simon a look as though trying to gauge how believable that sounded. But Simon was prepared to believe it. After all, he’d been imagining he felt the other man through the wall for… how long now?

When not immediately scoffed at, his roommate continued.

“I guess I always did know, but I was distracted. I mean, it’s hard to keep track of that sort of thing when you’re coming in someone else. All the signals get jumbled together.” Smiling apologetically, he traced his fingertips over Simon’s now bare hip. What little clothes they had been wearing earlier had either landed on the floor or gotten tangled up in the sheets.

The contact sent warm tingles through Simon. He would be ready for a second go in a minute or two. “That’s okay,” he murmured, pulling him down into a kiss. His roommate settled back down against him and entwined their bodies again. It felt as natural as breathing, and the giddy feeling in his chest was only from how long it had taken to realize that this could really happen. Now he was ready, hard and pressing against his roommate’s leg, aching for more release. It was like being a teenager again.

“Wait, I want to ask you something.” His roommate pulled back a fraction of an inch so they could see each other, and said, “Simon, this is really important. How… How long have you felt this way about me?”

Reluctantly, Simon stilled and tried to think. He’d just been wondering about that, but hadn’t been able to dredge up an answer. “It feels like forever,” he admitted. “I’m not exactly sure.”

“Try to think.” The other man was watching him closely, earnestly, and Simon did want to try for him. “How long have we been roommates?”

There was the question, delivered in a serious voice, and then there was the hand that snaked between them and began to stroke Simon encouragingly. His eyes fluttered shut but he still tried to concentrate, honestly, because he suspected that if he didn’t his roommate might stop. “I, um… I dunno…” He bit his lip to stifle a moan. “A few years?”

His roommate gave him a gentle squeeze. “What time of year was it when we moved in together?”

It was getting very hard, very hard indeed, to concentrate on the questions. Simon shook his head and gasped, “I don’t remember, uhhhh… Fall maybe?”

“No, really try to remember.” His roommate kissed his mouth, then his cheek and along his jawline, nipping briefly at his earlobe. He kissed down his neck, leaving a trail of oversensitive skin in his wake. It was a game, Simon realized, one that felt so good to play even if he wasn’t sure what the point was.

He continued to wrack his brain for the response the other man wanted. The hand curling around him between his legs wasn’t leaving much brainpower for thinking, but Simon followed the anticipation of orgasm back through all the memories of wanting exactly this. There had to have been a beginning to all those nights spent touching himself to the sound of ecstasy bleeding through the wall.

In the moment of climax it came to him, simple and impossible. Simon clutched at his roommate, going rigid and seeing nothing but white sparks and knowing, with the slow realization of sunlight creeping over a horizon, that all of this is just—

“A dream!” he yelps, shooting up in an unfamiliar bed.

Adult content. Violence. 

"He was supposed to give up payment today Jase! Why don't I have the money on my desk?"

Jase rocked on his heels. Nervous sweat streaked his forehead. He could feel it trickling down his back. He didn't like it when the boss was mad like this. Bad things were about to happen. 

"I'm sorry Cj. We went to his house, his frequents. Even his side peice don't know where he is. We can't find him."

He watches as his boss stands. He sees the anger, he sees the threat. When a pimp hasn't paid his dues, bad things happen. That's why the boss is so well known. So very feared. 

Cj presses a finger to the button on the intercom sat on the desk. 

"Bring him in." Were the only words spoken before the doors crashed open.

Two of Cjs heavies drag in a heavy set man wrapped in cling film. His naked upper body is cut up and burned. His body no longer looking human but more like a large tattooed peice of meat. 

The boss walks up to the almost corpse and pulls the switchblade from a top pocket. 

"Now Jase, make sure you're watching. This is how we send a message when payment hasn't been made." 

Just below the clingfilm, the boss reaches out a hand and yanks down the criminals zipper. Pushes in the blade and draws a circle into the flesh. 

The meat screams. Animalistic howls escaping the abused man. The ball lands in her hand. And she throws it at Jase to catch.

"Send the God damn message Jase. Or you'll be the message. Don't fuck with me."

And that's why Cj has such a name for herself. 

They call her The Lady.

I felt so weird when I woke up this morning. But I had no idea just how weird.

As is my habit, I kept my eyes closed upon awakening, just taking in the sounds of early morning. But everything was so lo-o-oud! I could hear my cell phone's digital clock ticking, but instead of soft little clicks, they sounded like gongs. I could hear the faucet dripping in the bathroom, far louder than it should have been, like hail hitting the side of my building. I could even hear the beating of the hearts of the three birds in the tree just outside of my window, the leaves thumping loudly against the branches on which they sat. And I could hear myself breathing, the breaths sounding like thunder as they exited my nose. Unable to enjoy my first few moments like usual, I opened my eyes and felt a wave of nausea pass. Everything was blurry, which wasn't unusual, since I am near-sighted, but this blurriness went beyond. And since when, I wondered, had I gone color-blind? Thinking I must still be dreaming, I rubbed one eye with my paw and- wait! My PAW? I panicked and closed my eyes, tight. After a moment, I peeked one orb open. Everything was the same. I looked down at myself and sure as shit, I was a dog. What the-? I couldn't make out the colors, but the markings looked just like the ones on my own dog, Hailey. I moaned and was horrified to hear a low growl emitting from my snout. My snout?! Oh, lord, I have a snout! Moaning...er, whining...I laid back and tried to think back to the night before. I'd gone bar-crawling with some friends and sure, I'd had plenty Hair of the Dog when I returned home, but surely that couldn't be the cause of this, could it?!

Oh my word! Another thought occurred to me. If I was Hailey, was she me?! I tried to call for her...me?...but it just came out as a howl and I quickly snapped my mouth shut. I told myself that I had to think of something and thank goodness I still seemed to have my human logic and thinking abilities.

As I lay there thinking, I also took note of my other heightened senses, which I couldn't have ignored if I'd wanted to.

While my vision seemed to have taken a different form, if not decreased even further, all my other senses went beyond how I imagined them when I watched Hailey follow her nose around as if it were a leash. I sniffed deeply and immediately sneezed. Oh, my heavens! I could smell EVERYthing! The worms lying in the nest of the birds I was listening to just a while ago, the drops of perfume I'd spilled on the dresser and failed to clean up the night before; hell, I could even smell the boogers in my nose. Ew.

Well, I thought, after a while... Maybe this won't be too bad. I mean, how many times had I looked at Hailey with jealousy at the cushy life she leads, being waited on hand and foot. Now it was MY turn to bask in the love of a great owner...Oh, crap. But what kind of owner could Hailey possibly be?! I'd probably starve to death, waiting on her to figure things out! Sure, she'd observed me literally hundreds of times in the kitchen, but watching is far different from doing.

Speaking of Hailey, I wondered once again where she was...Maybe she couldn't figure out how to walk on two legs... Hmmm. I wondered if I can walk on four! Just as I was trying to climb out of bed, she entered the bedroom.

She had on my favorite dress, but it was backwards and only covered her head and one shoulder. The rest of me...her?...was naked. And...why were my houseshoes in her MOUTH! I facepalmed...er, facepawed myself and thought, Oh, my God...or should that be 'Oh, my dog?!"

There SHOULD be breasts here, I think again, as I touch my upper chest, now flat as a board. But no, breast cancer came in like a mercenary and had no mercy, taking what was once my best feature.

As I undress to ready for my shower, I think of the perfect melons that I used to have. Double Ds and amazingly perky, when they very well could have been so saggy, like my grandmother's, who could damn near hook hers under her belt. No, mine were svelte and round, sitting on my chest like two perfect sentries, surveying all whom they may conquer. And boy, did they conquer! Many men fell under my spell - old, young, black, white; hell, even the gays couldn't help but admire them.

And now they are gone! I feel the wetness on my cheeks and realize that I am once again crying over my loss. "NOOOOOOOOOOO!" I yell; I refuse to cry! So instead I pound pound pound my hand against the bathroom wall until it's numb, perhaps broken, but I don't care, because now I am broken. Now, I no longer have my badges of womanhood. Now, I can no longer get out of parking tickets or get free drinks at my favorite bar. Now, I can no longer wear those cute halter tops, basking in the attention my twins used to award me with.

Yeah, yeah, yeah, I can get reconstructive surgery, but they won't be MINE, dammit! I spent YEARS building them up! I even did that funny exercise with my friends when I was young, the one Judy Blume taught us about in 'Are You There, God? It's Me, Margaret'. We'd sit in a circle in one of our bedrooms, chanting our mantra - "We must, we must, we must increase our busts!" - while bringing our bent arms forwards and back over and over again. I don't know for sure, of course, if that did the trick, but my mams sure were marvelous!

And now they are gone! I look at where a mirror used to be, before I smashed it and all the others, the better to never again see my lacking chest... Dammit, that felt good, smashing them all to smithereens. I wish I could do the same to that fuckin' cancer!

But I cannot. All I can do is think about how much I've lost. About how Brad left, with some lame excuse ending in "It's not you, it's me". Bullshit. It was all me. And what I could no longer provide him... God, he used to love my boobs, stroking them with just the right touch, softly rubbing on my nipples, feeling them hardening and-

No! I will NOT think about that! Fuck Brad and the horse he rode in on!..or his "horse" that I used to ride every other morning... No! Get a grip, Rachel, I tell myself. We do NOT want to think about that douche-bag anymore!

The water is running, but I can't bring myself to get in. I can't touch the scars that mark where my womanhood was torn away from me. I just can't... I just can't. So instead, I just sit on the bathroom floor and cry and cry and cry.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Neither myself nor anyone in my family (that I know of) have had to deal with this atrocious disease, but I imagine this' exactly how I'd react, if not worse, should that ever come my way.

With that being said, I also want this to work as my stand in solidarity for those who have suffered.

   Anna found herself sitting in her room that evening after all the guests had left. On her lap she held the itty bitty little dragon. Anna sat and watched him for a long time. She stroked his neck and scratched between his wings, he seemed to like that.

   "You'll need a name won't you." Anna lifted the dragon up to eye level and stared at him intently. "What should it be? Perhaps Flame?" The dragon stared at Anna indignantly, and snapped it's jaw lightly at her thumb.

   "Okay, I guess you don't like that. How about Nibbles." The dragon looked so offended that Anna immediately said, "No! Let's pick another. How about... how about... oh let me see. I got to think of a good name. Um... How about Cornelius? I got it! Cornelio!" The dragon let out a tiny roar and flapped its wings in approval. 

   "Cornelio it is." Anna smiled. "Now we need to figure out what you're going to eat for supper. The wizard said you can find your own food. So, can you?" The dragon let out a puff of smoke and took off flying around the room. Cornelio ducked and swooped, twirled and somersaulted through the air. He looked almost like a large metallic butterfly. After a little while, he finally landed on the window sill with his nose pressed firmly against the glass.

   Anna trotted over and cracked the window open just enough for the dragon to slip through. Out he went into the cool evening air. Cornelio let out a minute roar and released an impressive spear of flame into the gathering darkness, and with that, he fluttered out into the garden. Anna watched as he flew from one plant to the next, snapping at mosquitoes all the while. He swooped here and there and finally snagged a small vole from between the plant stalks. Anna let out a squeak of excitement, horror, and interest rolled into one sound. Thankfully the dragon settled down in the tall grass, so Anna didn't have to watch the demise of the vole.

   After about ten minutes or so, the dragon flew back to the window and slipped through the opening. Anna held out her hand and the dragon, now plump, settled down in her palm. She carried him over to the small chest and gently set him in, and then watched in fascination as the tiny dragon burrowed under the gold. He wriggled for a little bit, trying to find the perfect spot, and then he settled in for the night.

    Anna headed to bed shortly after. It had been a long and exciting day for her and she was very tired. As she curled under the bed covers, she whispered, "Good night, Cornelio." A tiny sniffle and slight glow, was the response she got. She smiled.

~~~

   Anna woke with a start. It was dark and late, no sounds could be heard. Anna lay in bed listening, trying to figure out why she was awake. Then she heard a slight tch sound coming from outside her window. She sat up in bed and stared in that direction, hoping to  see what it was that had made the sound. There on the window sill she could see the outline of Cornelio, posed with wings wide spread and neck outstretched, staring out into the darkness.

   Anna slipped from her bed and tiptoed over, "What is it Cornelio?" The dragon barely glanced at her before regaining his pose. Then he tapped a claw against the window. When Anna did nothing in response, the dragon tapped the window again. This time Anna moved over and cracked the window open a tiny bit. With a speed Anna didn't know Cornelio had, he dashed through the window and out into the night. She could see him belch fire into the night air once, twice, and then all was still.

   A shiver ran down Anna's back. She opened the window all the way and called out into the garden, "Cornelio? Cornelio, where are you?" She could hear no response. Then suddenly a pair of strong and very hairy hands grabbed her and pulled her from her window sill. Anna let out a yelp of surprise before one of the hands muffled her cries.

   A low gravelly voice whispered in Anna's ear, "Please don't make another sound, princess. I don't think Dordil will need much of an excuse to finish off your dragon. He doesn't like being bit by dragons, even little ones." Anna refrained from squeaking a reply, all she did instead was nod. Then the voice whispered in her ear again, "Sorry we have to meet this way, but things are getting urgent, and we need-" a sharp hiss from someone else cut of the voice's whisper. Anna saw, or rather felt, a heavy sack being placed over her head, and with that she was bundled up and carried off.

   The next thing Anna knew, she felt the bump bump of a pony's trot. At least she figured it was a pony. It felt like a pony. She was slumped over the saddle like a sack of potatoes, and she was starting to get a little dizzy from the rocking motion of the animal. Then suddenly, the pony stopped. Anna heard the gravelly voice again, "We'll camp here for the night. We are far enough from Ironwell, and I think we ought to let her know what's happening."

   Anna felt herself being removed from the horse, and then suddenly the hood was removed. She blinked in the bright sunlight as she looked around the forest glade the ponies had stopped in. And then Anna looked at the riders of the ponies. They were short little men, not much taller then Anna herself, and they all had long course beards. Anna giggled a little despite not knowing where she was. All the little men looked so funny.

   "Eh?" said one dwarf. He had yet to dismount from his pony, "Is she laughing at us?"

   "I think she is laughing at your face." Replied another dwarf, whose beard was a bright red color. "Anyone would laugh at your nose."

   "'Ay, that's not nice." Said the first dwarf as he attempted to jump from his pony's saddle. Except his foot got caught in the stirrup. Half way through his descent, his foot stopped moving, even though the rest of his body continued straight down. The final product was that his nose and right foot where at the level of the other dwarf's knees, and his left foot stuck straight into the air. Everybody laughed, including Anna, at the sight of the upside down dwarf.

   "You silly little man," Anna giggled, "Why are you jumping off the pony? You should slid down gently."

   The dwarf struggled for several seconds until finally his foot slipped free and he slumped to the ground in a pile. He grumbled to himself, "I know how to get off an horse. This 'ere nag just moved funny as I tried to dismount."

   The other dwarfs had started to gather around Anna, and she started to feel slightly frightened as she realized she didn't know who they were. Then one of the dwarfs, the one with the gravely voice, took pity on Anna and said, "Back up boys, give her some space. We've got a lot of explaining to do, what now that we've captured a princess."

The first grey light of dawn peaked past the curtained sky. It illuminated the world in sombre tones, like a dying candle gasping for breath. It shimmered in and it faded out, hovering beyond the pallid horizon.

The woman stared as it did, sighing her usual sigh. Her hand reached up and switched off the headlamp wrapped tightly around her grey woolen cap. It helped her vision little. The darkness was so thick at night that the glow of the headlamp barely reached more than five feet, but five was better than none. The nights didn't feel quite so suffocating that way.

The woman walked all the while, never pausing her strides. She travelled along a dust-covered road that stretched on for miles before fading into the distance and the slowly retreating darkness. She was unsure of where it lead. There was no sign to read and she had no map to check. Not that it mattered. She had walked roads like this one many times and every one of them had led to the same place. They had always led to nothing. She knew all that awaited her at the end was emptiness, followed by yet another road. She had always known this and yet she had always walked, despite it. She always clung to the dim hope that, perhaps, this one might be different.

It had been raining all night with nowhere to take shelter. The road was adorned with deep pools of water and ashen mud, with a barren wasteland of rotten trees and brown, sickly weeds on either side. She had worried that the road would flood and wash her away with it, for the rain had fallen with such ferocity that after a few hours she was ankle deep in rainwater. Then it had stopped as sudden as it had come, like it had never been. The water draining away. The only signs of it ever happening being the soaked clothes she wore and the mud-filled puddles she walked through. Now every step she took had her slipping in the mud and cursing as she did; her loose and ragged looking rucksack weighing heavily on her shoulders. Her progress had slowed considerably, but still she walked.

Hours passed and nothing changed. She could see that the sun had risen higher, but the day had gotten no brighter. Colours remained drained and the day remained grey. The road had stayed damp and difficult to walk upon. The scenery remained constant - nothing but dead trees upon dead soil. Her clothes were still wet and her skin was still cold. A deep rumble echoed from her stomach. She brushed a dry tongue across her cracked lips. Her scavenged supplies had all but dwindled. She was surviving on borrowed time. She had managed to find some empty plastic bottles a few days earlier and filled them with rainwater, but she always stopped herself from drinking too much. The rainwater made her sick.

Through the haze of dust, the road made a sudden change. Like a gargantuan tower of ash and dirt, it sloped to the sky. She stopped at the bottom and stared. Muddy water trickled down, coming to a stop at her feet. She tightened the straps of her rucksack, tensed her muscles and took a series of wide steps up the hill. On the fourth step, her feet gave way and she fell with a thump flat on her face, slipping down with the mud and water.

She pushed herself up onto her knees and sat there for a long time. Her stomach grumbling, but ignored. She simply sat and stared up at this hill; her eyes blank and her mind lost in thought, but of nothing tangible. A cloudy daze of lightheadedness.

A crack of thunder shook the earth and soon she felt the stinging drops of rain upon her skin. She blinked and looked up as it cascaded around and over her, washing the grime from her grazed face. She stared past the heavy droplets to the murky haze of dust that was the sky and the faint orb that glowed beyond it. Her eyes closed and her mouth opened. A minute passed and then it shut again. The sour taste burned her throat. Her gaze flicked back to the road that sloped up high and eventually faded from sight. The mud and water flowing down now as the world washed itself free of filth. It appeared insurmountable.

She stood up, sighed her usual sigh, and began to climb.

I'd not long arrived at my dads for my weekend stay and found the house empty. Where was everybody? 

Bored with nothing to do, I chucked myself on the armchair and pulled out my book. This book was so steamy. I couldn't handle it anymore. 

I chucked the book onto the floor and threw my leg over the arm of the chair. Snaking one hand up my skirt and the other into the opening of my shirt I began to fondle myself. 

 With One hand I was rolling my nipple between finger and thumb, occasionally pinching. With my other hand I was slowly circling my swollen clit. 

Purposely making myself wait. 

Teasing myself more than usual before going any further. I was about to plunge two fingers into my wet needy pussy when I heard the front door open. 

 My stepbrother came storming into the room while I was still righting myself. Luke was so hot. Like oh my god I could cream my knickers hot. 

Yes, he's my stepbrother. Yes, it's very bad of me. Yes, I'm a very bad girl when I think about him. 

 "What you doing here?" He looked shocked to see me. He stood in the middle of the room looking at me, wearing only sweats low on his waist and trainers. Sweat glistened on his muscled torso and my mouth watered. 

 "I'm staying this weekend." I murmured. 

 "Well dad ain't here princess, so it looks like it's just you and me." A devilish smirk on his face. He looked me up and down before turning around and mumbling, "Going for a shower." 

 Before he was even out of the door, I'd gotten out of my seat and shot past him. Ran down the hall and to the right into the bathroom. I managed to slam the door shut seconds before he pounded his fist against the wood. 

 "You better get out that bathroom Chlo! I'm gonna play nice and give you ten minutes!" 

I stripped myself of my clothes and jumped into the cubicle allowing the cool water to spray over my naked body. After quickly washing myself I let my fingertips trail down my neck and over my breasts. 

Reaching my nipples I gently rolled them between my fingers, a soft moan escaping me. My fingers continued their adventure down over my stomach, and across the skin of my bold pussy before accessing my dripping core. 

 I rubbed my swollen clit in small circles over and over again getting faster and applying more pressure the more I went on. I heard Luke banging against the door and threatening to kick the door down. I ignored him, blocking the sound out and focusing on my fingers and just what they were doing to me. 

 Unable to contain my moans now I knew I was getting close and forced myself to go faster. I closed my eyes and leant my head back against the cool tiles as my orgasm took over my body, and I bit down on my lip unsuccessfully trying to keep my moans low. 

After gaining control over my breathing, I looked up into the eyes of my stepbrother. There Luke stood. In the bathroom. Watching me. 

He had somehow lost all of his clothes. I pulled my gaze away from his lust filled eyes and trailed my gaze down until I reached his hand fisted around his huge throbbing dick. 

My gasp must of set him in motion. Before I knew it I was pressed against the cold tiles, and lukes lips were crashing down against mine. His tongue wrestling mine for domination. 

He roughly grabbed my thighs and wrapped them around him before sliding me up the slippery tiles and latching his mouth onto my nipple. Sucking and swirling his tongue around my erect nipple, I moaned loud and pulled on his hair trying to get him closer. His response was to shove two fingers inside of my dripping cunt. 

 He finger fucked me hard. Every so often he'd have me whimpering by curling his fingers inside of me. Catching my g spot each time. 

Getting close now he decided to change tactics. He turned me around and slammed my front against the tiles, pulling my arms up he held my hands against the tiled wall above my head. Then drove 3 fingers deep inside of me. 

 My cheek pressed against the water covered tiles, his fingers fucking me hard and rough, he bought his lips to my ear and huskily whispered to me. "You've been a bad, bad girl. Touching yourself and thinking about me. I'm sick of looking at that tight, sexy body of yours and not being able to touch you. You've tortured me for years. Now big brother is going to punish you!" 

 With that he bit down on earlobe and by body erupted. A scream working it's way out of my mouth. As my orgasm was still working me, he pulled my arse back a little and pulled my arms down so thar they were level with my head. Now only my forearms, tits and cheek pressed against the tiles he slammed his huge cock into my tight, pulsing pussy. 

Spreading my legs further, he pounds into me with no mercy, fucking me so hard I scream out with the pain and pleasure. He fucks me like this for what seems like hours. 

 I don't know how many times my cunt tightened around his cock as I came. My legs dropped me a while ago and moved me onto all fours to continue thrusting into me. 

Now I'm just like his personal cumming doll. The shower switched itself off a while ago. His thrusts suddenly get so much stronger. The force of them pushing me across the shower floor until he yanks me back onto him. 

When he comes he growls, pulling his dick out of my to squirt his hot juices on the small of my back. He cleans me, and picks up my limp body. 

 "Did you enjoy your punishment princess?" I slowly nod as my eyes drift shut and I find sleep.

Adult content. Xxx.

Honey bear had got the boys ready quickly. They were stripped down to nothing other than their balaclavas. She liked that. An identity was a privilege here, they still had to earn it.

The dog chains kept them secured. 

She liked this. Two young boys chained up for her. Their faces hidden and her honey bear patiently waiting for her orders. 

Honey bear had heavily walked back to his room. A strong reward promised to him for his fantastic behaviour. He could still hear her in there. And the boys. 

She would give him something special for his reward

 He deserves it.

"So boys, do you want to touch me?"

She made her way so that she was stood between the boys standing opposite one another.

Eddie's head nodded quickly, he wasn't scared enough to deny it. Ellie turned and landed a harsh slap against his semi erect manhood, causing him to gasp out and back away.

"You!" She points to Michael. "Are you still going to be harsh with me? Or did I touch myself good enough for you already?"

"No miss. You did a great Job. Sorry about that. We'll leave you alone now."

His attempt to step out of the hole he dug only made her smile.

"But I thought you wanted to play a game! Don't tell me you forgot all about it? You!" She clicks her fingers at Eddie. "On your knees!"

Eddie dropped to his knees without hesitation. In his eyes, it's possible he could still get laid if he just does ad he's told.

"Bring me your bag. Drag it with your teeth puppy!" Eddie eagerly crawled across the hard floor, happy with his new name. His cock now hard.

The bag was just out of his reach, as she knew it would be and the chain didn't give enough room forcing the collar to choke him.

Eddie looked back to his new found mistress in confusion.

"Bring me the bag puppy. You can do it!"

He choked himself in the process, but he did it. He then dragged the heavy bag back to her with only his teeth.

"Ok puppy. Good boy, do you deserve a reward?" Eddie nods his head, unsure but eager for the sex he's sure awaits him.

Ellie unzips the bag and pulls out the first item to hand. Rope.

"Stand up Puppy and walk as close to the slut boy as you can."

"Yes Miss." He follows the order quickly and stands just out of reach of Michael.

She's proud of him. He's a natural, but she's more excited for Michael. She gets to teach him a lesson. Force him to become her bitch.

"Good boy puppy. Now wank. Fist your d!ck as fast and as hard as you can."

He begins straight away and she doesn't miss Michael turning his head to the ground. He feels uncomfortable.

Puppy's fist moves quickly. He pumps his length fast. Pointing it towards the boy opposite him.

"So we have rope, tape, a dildo, a vibrator, a scarf and nipple clamps. What kind of game were you planning on playing s1ut?" She directs the question to Michael.

"We weren't going to play a game Miss. I'm sorry."

"Don't fucking lie! Tell me what game you were going to play with these items!"

His head snaps to hers and anger smears his face as he growls his response.

"We were going to fuck you stupid. Use all the toys on your frigid body. But turns out your already a slut."

The woman bit her tongue and smiled sweetly. He either thought he could intimidate her or he would go down fighting. Either way, she would get to play.

She saunters to him with the rope and tape in hand as puppy begins to whimper. Holding back his orgasm he already knows to wait.

"Beg me puppy!"

"Please miss! Please let me come. I'll be a good puppy."

"I know you will. Come."

And he does. He squirts his load up his friends stomach and as Michael tries to back away in disgust she holds him in place.

"Stay, bitch!"

After releasing all of his juices, Puppy stops his movements and his body slumps.

"I didn't tell you to stop. Keep going puppy. Hard and fast! Please me properly and I will reward you."

He grabs his placid penis and begins to stroke up and down quickly again. His body jerks and he whimpers and moans. He needs rest, he doesn't want to continue.

But unfortunately for him, they are no longer his desisions to make.

The Librarian forces the tape around her sluts wrists and elbows, securing his arms behind his back.

She then uses the rope to circle his neck, criss cross his torso, wrap his semi hard cock and balls, to slide through his arse cheeks and follow up to attach to his dog chain.

"Is that what you would of done?"

"No!" He snaps.

She gently strokes her nails down his cock to watch him harden. The rope tightens. Squeezing his cock and balls, tightening around his throat and roughly sliding against his arse.

"Do you want to fuck me?" She whispers. He tries hard to stop himself from getting harder, but it's a challenge he won't defeat.

She grabs his dog chain and yanks him across the room before kicking him to his knees.

"Lie down bitch! You're going to eat me and swallow every drop of my juices before anybody gets fucked."

He lay down before she yanked on his chain more. The rope burned and tightened against various parts of his body. His hands and arms hurt as he lay his weight against them.

She didn't waste time.

She didn't give him time. She smothered his face with her pussy and began to ride him just as puppy began to groan.

"Come puppy! Crawl to me."

Puppy did come. This time emptying his load onto the floor. He would lick that up later.

Puppy knelt beside her as she rode his friends face.

"Carry on puppy. I haven't told you to stop yet!"

The puppy continued to follow his mistresses orders. Unbeknown to him, he was a fantastic slave in the making. He wanted to please her more then anything. And she wanted to test the theory.

As she rocked against her slut boys face she pulled her puppy closer with only a light grip on his short hair. She had ideas for him. Amazing, mind blowing ideas.

"You can slow down puppy. You're making me so happy. But you still have a few more things to do for me before you deserve a reward. Do you promise to do as you're told?"

The puppy boy nodded his head. His cock again beginning to harden. The slut beneath her had no idea how to eat cunt and she was growing frustrated. He wasn't even trying.

She pushes her wet slit against him harder before changing tactic and sliding down his chest.

He cannot move in the position he's in. Not if he wants to keep his dick. His taped up arms are beneath his full body weight and now that she has added her own weight on top of him, she knows his arms and shoulders will be hurting. He won't be able to fight.

"You want to fuck, don't you puppy?" She directs the question to her good boy whilst keeping her eyes on the bad one. The one she wants to punish.

"Yes Miss. Please."

She wonders briefly, if she should do it. She could get into serious trouble if Michael was to grass after all.

But she didn't think about it for long.

"Well then puppy. Fuck the sluts mouth. Nice and slow. And then I'll be happy. I'll consider letting slut leave with his dick in his hand. And I'll reward you.

What do you think slut? Good idea?"

She looks down at the young boy bound beneath her. Lust fills her eyes as the fear rises in his, but slowly, very slowly, she watches his head move.

The boy agrees.