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."