Perchance to Dream

            The desert sun beat down mercilessly on the bazaar, as furres of every type imaginable crowded the outdoor marketplace. Awnings of gayly colored cloth offered shade here and there, as merchants hawked their wares to the multitude. The din of voices bargaining and advertising goods and services filled the square. In the heat and crowd, Bagurujawl strolled casually. Standing a good head taller then the vast majority of furres, he was an imposing figure, and had little difficulty making his way through the masses.

            The crowd was packed in two and three deep in most places, however where Bagur browsed, the area surrounding the purveyor of exotic plants, was quite empty. Despite the lack of customers’ the vendor appeared to be doing quite well, and could even afford an awning of wood to keep the worst of the sun off his merchandise.

            Bagur was rather happy that the shoppers were sparse here. He preferred to be able to shop and consider his purchase without being crowded and jostled. He paused to study a particularly interesting flower, his orange and black striped tail whipping through the air behind him. His green eyes narrowed as he examined the plant, a multitude of small, violet and white blossoms at the top of a stalk. He closed his eyes and inhaled its perfume, his nostrils flaring, and whiskers twitching. Nodding to himself he straightened up, and looked around. Able to see over the heads of almost everyone else, it only took him a moment to spy whom he was seeking.

            “Saph,” he called out, his voice slightly raised to compensate for the noise of the crowd. A few paces away a smaller, white furred feline looked up from where she had been staring at the fish swimming in a small fountain. She quickly padded over to the larger feline, the sun glinting dully off the steel ring in her ear.

            “Yes sir,” she addressed the larger feline, although her eyes remained downcast, not looking him in the face. Bagur smiled down at her, and indicated the flower he had been examining.

            “What do you think of this one,” he asked, indicating the bloom he had just been admiring. Saph examined the flower, admiring the color and inhaling its scent as Bagur had done. She nodded and smiled up at the much larger feline, her eyes meeting his for a moment before she flushed and looked away.

            “It’s very nice. It will make a wonderful addition to your garden.” Nodding at her approval, Bagur beckoned the owner of the nursery over, and began to haggle. Meanwhile Saph’s attention wandered back to the fish-filled fountain she had been contemplating before. Her own tail was twitching, as she fought the urge to return to the shining fish that swam in the bubbling water.

            It took a few minutes for Bagur to finish his bargaining and arrange for his purchase to be sent to the inn he was staying at. As he paid the vendor for his purchase, the vendor gave him an obsequious bow. Bagur missed the bow, having turned back to Saph as soon as the money changed hands.

            “I think we have enough for a start,” he said smiling despite the heat and dust. “We’ll see how these plants do, then consider getting some more.” Saph nodded only half listening.

            “Yes sir,” she replied absently, her gaze beginning to wander off to the fish again. Curious, Bagur tried to follow her eyes, wondering what it was that had her so fascinated. “May I show you something,” she suddenly asked her large companion. Bagur smiled indulgently at her.

            “Of course.” Taking his hand in both of hers, she led him over to the fountain and pointed to the shimmering creatures swimming in it. Bagur blinked at the fish, little unsure at what it was that Saph was getting at.

            “Are you hungry? I was going to take us somewhere for lunch next.” Saph shook her head an giggled quietly. Bagur must be getting hungry himself, she realized. Everything made him think of food when he was hungry.

            “No,” she said with another giggle. “I was thinking we could get some fish like that. You already have that large fountain planned.” Bagur considered this for a moment.

            “Well, they would add a dash of class to the garden. But I think we had better wait until we have the garden up and running before we try anything too fancy.” Saph’s face fell. “I fully expect half these plants to die before a month is out. It’s gonna be a lot of work to get the plants to survive, let’s not bite of more then we can chew.” Seeing her disappointed look, Bagur fondly ran his fingers through her hair, petting her like a favored pet, which in some ways she was.

            “Don’t worry, next trip, once we have the garden going, we’ll buy some fish for you.” Saph smiled a little, and Bagur continued. “You’ll have enough to worry about keeping these plants from dying out at the estate. Adding fish, I fear, would be too much for you right now. Let’s take it slow, small steps.” Saph’s smile widened at his gentle words. “Come he said, it is drawing nigh to noon, let’s retire to somewhere cool, and have lunch.” Saph perked up some more, and happily followed after him as he led her off through the milling crowd.

            Later that evening as they sipped chilled juice in his suite, Saph stared into the dancing flames of the small fire that had been kindled to keep the chill of the desert night at bay. Saph pondered her life. She felt small ring in her ear that marked her as property of the large feline sitting in the chair pouring over a book. She glanced up at him, admiring how the light silk clothes he wore showed off his body, and thought about how different he was from what she had expected.

            When she had been in the pens, other, more experienced slaves had told her of being treated as property, of beatings and impossible demands, and worse. Of slaves being expected to satisfy the sexual desires of their owners, no matter how horrifying or painful the slave found the acts. Indeed, she had heard whispers that some slave owners relished the looks of horror and cries of pain, that they went through slaves at an alarming rate, as those they did not kill were reduced to mewling, half-sane wretches.

            She had shuddered with fear when she had been brought to Bagur for him to examine. She had heard that such “examinations” were really an excuse for wealthy free-furres to enjoy the sexual pleasures of a slave for the evening. She had wanted to bolt, or worse release Phire when she had been brought in to the huge feline. She was shocked to discover that he genuinely intended to examine her. The examine had been humiliating yet impersonal. Then he had sat her down and talked with her. She had not had to go back to the pens.

            In the days and weeks that followed, she had found her preconceptions about slavery falling one by one. Oh that she was a slave she had no doubt. But despite that little fact, Bagur persisted in treating her more like a relative then property. When she had found the nerve to question him about it, he had scowled and muttered something about uncivilized lands. While it was clear his annoyance was not directed at her, she never did bring the subject back up.

            Nor had he ever required her to service him sexually. At intervals he had requested she share his bed, and while politely phrased as such, she knew it was not a request. But to her surprise, he had merely wished her company, not sex. The first time, when it became apparent that he had no intention of satisfying himself sexually with her, she had been uncertain wether to be relieved or disappointed. But after he had called for her company several times with the same results, to her surprise she began to grow frustrated. She found herself wishing he would satisfy himself with her.

            She looked at him again, admiring the way his muscles rippled. She knew for a fact he spent a couple hours each day working out, and it showed. As if sensing her gaze upon him, he looked up, his eyes meeting hers. She quickly looked away, feeling a little embarrassed.

            “What are you thinking sweety?”

            Saph blushed deeply beneath her fur at his question. Inside her she could feel her “sister,” Phire urging her to just make her desires known. For a moment she could not think of what to say.

            “I . . . I was just thinking how good you look in your outfit. It shows off your body so nicely . . .” she grew quiet, worrying she was making a fool of herself. Bagur just chuckled quietly.

            “Thank you sweety. It’s nice to know I have good taste in clothes.” He favored her with a smile before turning back to his book. Saph turned back to the fire feeling a little depressed, the moment had passed, and she found herself wondering why she hadn’t just told him what she really wanted. Inwardly she could feel Phire berating her for her indecision. For a moment, it was like her sister was sitting beside her.

            “Tell him!” It was a demand, and an odd one. Phire had been indignant at the idea of being property, and at first had nothing but contempt for their owner. But even though he was unaware of her presence, Bagur had won her over. In truth Phire had been amazed with the effortless way Bagur would somehow treat them as if they weren’t property, yet at the same time, never letting them forget they were.

            “Why do you care? You don’t desire him,” Saph silently replied to her sister. The two of them shared the same body, and managed to get along for the most part. Phire was content to allow Saph to remain in control most of the time. But there were other times.

            “I don’t,” Phire stated emphatically, as much to convince herself as Saph. “I’m just tired of your constant mooning over him. Just let him know. Why are you so afraid to tell him?” Saph didn’t reply, the last question had hit too close to home. “You are afraid aren’t you.” Phire’s statement shamed Saph. She didn’t like admitting fear.

            “No, of course not.”

            “Yes you are. Why are you afraid to tell him?”

            “I’m not. And why do you go on about it if you don’t care?”

            “You’re afraid he’ll say no. You’re afraid he’ll reject you.” Saph could feel the heat in her cheeks. It was so hard to hide your feelings from someone who shared your head.

            “And you want him just as badly as I do.” Her riposte stung Phire, who could not reply. “It’s true, isn’t it,” Saph asked.

            “Okay, so there’s something about him that makes me want to surrender myself completely to him. Same as you. He doesn’t need to force you to obey, because you find yourself desiring to please him. And we want to please him with our bodies.” Phire stopped and realized what she was saying. She had never realized she had desired the tall feline as much as her sister. “And I think it’s time we did something about it.”

            Saph was not prepared when Phire took control of their body and got to her feet. Purposefully she padded over to Bagur, Saph struggling against her the whole way.

            “Phire please. Don’t do this.” Saph was scared Phire’s bluntness would almost guarantee Bagur would reject them. She knew Phire would blurt out her . . . their desire in no uncertain terms. She felt her body drop to its knees in front of Bagur who, unaware of the silent argument going on a few feet from him, was still engrossed in his book.

            “Phire please, let me ask. I know if you ask he’ll say no.” There was a moment of silence, then Phire surrendered control of their body back to her.

            “Alright,” Phire growled in her head. “But you need to ask him now, or I will.”

            Trembling, Saph didn’t know what to do. She dared a glance up, but Bagur was still reading, either unaware that she was now kneeling at her feet, or unconcerned. She fixed her gaze on his toes, noting that the nails, while well pedicured, were still formidable claws.

            “M-master?” Saph’s voice sounded small and uncertain. Bagur’s ear twitched at the quiet sound. Putting his book down he looked to the shaking feline kneeling before him. He frowned a little. He didn’t care for being called master. He didn’t need titles to know his slaves were his slaves. But something of her manner told him she had something important on her mind.

            “What is it sweety?” His voice was soothing, and she braved another look at him. He was frowning a little, but she saw concern in his eyes as well. The desire for him welled up even stronger in her breast, and for a moment overwhelmed by this want, this need, she could not speak. Finally tears glistening in her eyes, she found her voice.

            “M-mas . . .Bagur,” she corrected herself, “You ask me to share your bed . . . a lot. I’ve even slept with you every night of our trip.” She grew silent again, not sure how to ask it. She could hear Phire silently demanding her to just ask. For a moment Bagur looked at her, his concern growing.

            “Do you object to sharing my bed?” He wondered if that was the case, but something told him it wasn’t. She had never expressed any objection, and always seemed happy when he requested her.

            “N-no,” Saph replied quickly. “I’m always glad when you request me. I just . . .” She took a deep breath and steeled herself, knowing it was now or never. “When I was in the pens I heard tales, horrible stories of what some owners did with their slaves.” Bagur frowned. He had made it clear in the past his contempt for people who treated their slaves in such a manner. Quickly Saph continued.

            “When I was brought to you, I feared the worse, but you . . . you were more then I could ever have hoped for.” She sniffled a little, and felt her tears beginning to spill from her eyes. “I don’t think I could ever be happier then I am serving you, and I want you to know that.” She stopped again, not sure if she could muster the courage to go on. Silently Bagur leaned down and scooped the smaller feline up in his arms he set her on his lap. He held her close, with one arm, and lightly stroked her hair with his free hand.

            “I know you’re happy. It shows in your work,” he said quietly. Saph sniffled again, and nodded her head a little. She felt so warm and safe with her head laying against his chest. She wished this moment could never end. Even Phire seemed to have relaxed, growing quiet.

            “But it’s not enough. I want to show you. I want to . . . I want you to possess me completely. To possess me in every way.” She stopped speaking, and buried her face against his muscular chest to ashamed of her desires to dare look at him. Bagur froze for a moment, as the meaning of her words sunk in. A lot of little things he had noticed began to make sense. He leaned down and tenderly pressed his lips to her forehead.

            “Saph, you are a most desirable woman. But I swore an oath. I have a mate. She has no objection with me sharing my bed, she doesn’t want me to sleep alone if I can help it. But she did ask that I save that for her, and because I love her, I do.” He gave her a gentle squeeze. “Were I not mated, I would have given you what you ask for long before now.”

            Saph nodded silently, not trusting her voice. But she could not hide the tears that poured from her eyes. True he had not completely rejected her, but he might as well have. Her heart was a great leaden weight in her chest and she could do nothing but cling to him. She wanted more then anything to remain in the safety of his warm embrace.

            Silently Bagur rose, holding her with ease.

            “Let’s get to bed. Things will seem brighter in the morning.” Cradling her with one arm, he used the other to turn down the oil lamp til it was just a dim glow.

            He carefully laid her in the bed they shared before stretching out beside her. Wrapping his arms around her he pulled her close. Saph responded by snuggling as close to him as she could. If she could have crawled inside his skin, she would have. If this was all he could give her then she would accept it.

            Phire wouldn’t give up so easily.

            Bagur sat back in his throne and relaxed a little. He had never been one for the intrigues of court. He was too honest and open. He was much happier dealing with the administrative duties. Indeed he would be quite content to let one of his siblings sit on the throne while he made sure the kingdom would run smoothly. Unfortunately, he was the eldest, and on his shoulders fell the responsibility of running the kingdom, and playing nice to the courtiers.

            He sighed quietly and allowed himself a glance at the clock. Not long before he could close court and retire to his private chambers. Perhaps he would have the golden furred slave come tonight and play her flute for him. That was always relaxing. He was brought out of his reverie by the herald announcing the next supplicant. He grimaced inwardly, and hoped it wasn’t another courtier bearing gifts. One thing he could never stand were sycophants, and it took all of his self-control not to order them thrown out as soon as they began speaking.

            To his surprise it was his lupine stable-master, leading a small white furred feline before him. He allowed himself a small smile. He was still in the process of hiring his personal staff. There were many who sought to be on it, but only for the prestige of holding a position. Bagur didn’t mind his servants enjoying their position, so long as they did their jobs well. Nobles who surrounded themselves with incompetent yes-men was something else he just couldn’t understand. The stable-master was one of his earliest hires, originally a flesh-merchant, Bagur had offered him the job, after noting his eye for quality.

            The stable-master approached the throne, his ears alert and his tale wagging. He bowed, not the fawning kowtow of a sycophant, but an honest show of respect for his regent.

                        “My Lord,” he began after Bagur acknowledged him with a nod of his head. “I have another acquisition for your harem. She is of high quality of course. Sound mind and body, no scars, and very submissive. She needed little training.” Bagur eyed the white furred female, she was indeed comely and if the stable-master said she had no scars, Bagur saw no need to question him. He preferred his harem females to be unmarked, something the stable-master was well aware of. He beckoned for the female to come closer.

            The female did not see the gesture, her eyes kept properly downcast. For her to look upon Bagur in a public setting such as this would be an unforgivable breach of etiquette. The stable-master prodded her forward, and she hesitantly approached the dais Bagur’s throne sat on. When she reached the steps she gracefully lowered herself to her knees, and stayed there. Bagur looked her over, and felt his desire grow. There was something about her that called to him.

            “What is your name child?” The slave flinched a little when he spoke. She was obviously not prepared to be addressed directly by someone so far above her.

            “F-f . . . Saph,” she said in a quiet voice. She was nervous, and Bagur could understand that. She had undoubtedly been told that he wielded the power of life and death over her. Yet despite her nervousness, her voice was pleasant to his ears, and he nodded approvingly.

            “Tell me . . . Saph, can you sing?” It was not until he spoke the name that he realized how unusual it was. She must have been bred and named in a kingdom far from his own. But if that were the case, how did she wind up in his domain. He would ask her about that. Doubtless she would not know the details, but she could probably give him the gist of the story. Yet for all its strangeness, her name was also oddly familiar. Something in the back of his mind told him he knew it from somewhere, but he could not place it.

            “Yes milord. I can sing.” Bagur smiled at her answer. So few slaves could sing, or for that matter had any musical talent. Musical aptitude was not a trait breeders normally considered. Bagur had ordered his own breeding farms to start looking for it. He wanted slaves that were musically inclined. He was pleased that this one could sing.

            “You will sing for me tonight.” He looked up to the stable-master. “If she does indeed sing you will be rewarded handsomely.” The stable-master was well aware of his desire for musical slaves. Smiling, quite pleased that his newest find had met with the approval of his lord, the stable-master bowed. Bagur dismissed him, and gestured for his chief domestic.

            “Have her cleaned up and taken to my quarters,” he ordered as soon as the furre had presented himself. He had not needed to say anything about cleaning her up. The chief domestic would see to that if necessary, which given the thorough nature of the stable-master was unlikely. He sighed again and allowed himself another glance at the clock. He wondered if it would be possible to end court early today. Maybe he would be lucky and the remaining courtiers lined up to flatter him in hopes of gaining his favor would come to their senses and decide to go do something productive or at least useful with their lives. It wasn’t very likely he would admit, but he could always hope.

            The rest of the court session had seemed to pass in a blur. In what seemed like the blink of an eye Bagur was in his quarters. He was lounging in his silk evening wear, and smelled faintly of the jasmine that had scented his bath water.

            He leaned back in his chaise, and eyed his new slave. She kneeled on the floor not to far from him. He had dined with her, feeding her tidbits from his own tray, and letting her sip from his cup. It had been a good meal he thought, the chef had done well tonight. He took a measure of pride in hiring the kitchen staff himself. That was one area, where he prized loyalty and ability equally.

            Saph was trying not to fidget as she kneeled, she was indeed well trained, but could not help being nervous. He considered taking her to bed now that he was finished eating, however he was in the mood for music this evening, and he wanted to hear her sing.

            “Stand up child, and approach me,” he commanded softly. Displaying only a bit of hesitance, the young slave did as he bid. When she was standing beside the chaise, he leaned his head back and closed his eyes. Nothing like some pleasant music after a trying day of court.

            “Sing for me child,” he said in a quiet voice. There was a pause, a moment of silent hesitation.

            “What should I sing for you my master?” Her question was honest, but caught Bagur by surprise. He had not really thought of that. He shrugged a little.

            “Sing for me what you will. Surprise me.” He did not care what she sang, so long as she sang. Her speaking voice was pleasant enough, and he did not wish to wait any longer to hear it raised in song.

            Saph closed her eyes for a moment, then her lips parted and her rich alto voice began to fill the room. With his eyes closed he could feel himself being lifted on the wings of her song, and saw in her music the vision her words painted.

The sun is hot in sky so blue

The breeze it stirs warms me and you

Our garden grows in sheltered shade

And water flows the work we’ve made

Perfumed flowers scent the air

Where we rest so far from care

Hold me in your arms so strong

Where I know I’m safe from harm

Lie with me and taste my lips

Let me feel your soft caress

Two hearts made one where earth meets sky

We will fear no by and by

Beneath the sun, and clear blue sky

Your love is lifting me so high

Wrapped in each other’s warm embrace

Tears of joy stream down my face

The world is gone, it matters not

I have you, you’re all I’ve got

On your love I can depend

I’ll be with you til all time end.

            Her music was almost hypnotic in its quality. The words themselves faded from conscious consideration, as the images they conjured swept over him. He could feel the hot sun beating down on him. The warm breeze that blew spray from a large fountain. The heady perfume of the flowers was in his nostrils. And another scent.

            She was there with him, singing to him from the shade of a small tree. The way the shadows dappled her white fur accented her feminine curves. He rose and moved toward her.

            And the spell was broken. Opening his eyes he realized she had stopped singing. Frowning he looked down at her. Without realizing it he had stood up and approached her, his eyes closed the whole time.

            She was cowering before him. Doubtless she feared that his getting up indicated displeasure on his part. He smiled down at her, in what he hoped was a reassuring manner. Then he realized she wouldn’t see his smile, as she kept her eyes downcast as was only proper.

            Her singing had been beautiful, more so then he had expected. This was more then talent, she had training in the past. He made a note to question her about it later, but for now, he had urges other then curiosity to satisfy.

            He tapped her gently on the shoulder and led her to the roomy fur-covered water bed where he slept. He stopped beside it, and turned to face her. She had followed him as was required, and had even managed to remove her tunic, without losing a step.

            Smiling expectantly, he nodded in approval when she began to undo the sash that held his jacket closed. Untying the knot was easy for her, it was a little more challenging to ease the garment off his shoulders as he was much taller then her. Still he helped her a little, and in a moment she had it neatly folded over a nearby chair. Quickly it was joined by his pants while his slippers were laid out underneath the bed.

            She had stopped once while undressing him. When his member, nearly erect, had been uncovered, she had stopped and gazed at it, for a moment. But only for a moment, then, perhaps realizing what she was doing she had promptly blushed and went back to her task.

            With both of them now undressed, she turned to the bed, and folded down the silk sheet and fur blanket, before climbing in. He slid in after her, his desire growing. She was very well trained, and performed her duties with an eagerness that he found endearing, despite himself.

            His arousal was growing, but he controlled himself. The temptation was to take her right away, but he wanted to draw things out and really enjoy what was to come.

            He reached over and lightly caressed her cheek, feeling the downy softness of her white fur beneath his fingers. She shivered slightly when his fingers traveled down her neck and over her shoulder. Reaching over with both hands now he gently cupped her breasts, feeling her nipples swell under his touch. She was still young, not quite fully developed, but her breasts were soft and round, and well proportioned.

            He slid closer to her, and leaned forward to gently nibble at her neck. As he did, he inhaled deeply, taking in her scent. He could smell her arousal, and it inflamed his own desires even more. He slid a hand down her belly and between her legs to gently stroke her inner thighs. Her breathing began to grow rapid, and her legs spread as of their own volition, allowing his deft fingers to lightly stroke her nether lips.

            She gasped slightly at his touch down there and hesitantly reached and wrapped her small hand around his throbbing erection. She paused as if uncertain if this was allowed. He responded by gently kissing her neck and purring quietly. Emboldened she wrapped her other hand around him and began to stroke his length.

            His purring grew even louder as her warm hands caressed him. He continued to lightly rub her hard nipple with one hand, with the other he continued to tease her between her legs. He spread her lower lips, and began to gently stroke the swollen button he found there. She shivered some more and mewed quietly as his touch sent ripples of pleasure coursing through her body.

            Trailing kisses, he moved down from her neck, to her pert breasts. Her chest heaved with each rapid breath she took. Smiling to himself, he took one of her nipples into his mouth, gently suckling her. He was rewarded by another gasp of pleasure. Lightly he flicked her nipple with the tip of his tongue, causing her to squirm slightly.

            He continued to pleasure her with his mouth and fingers for a few minutes, relishing her tiny cries of pleasure. At last he could refrain no longer. He had to possess her. A small disappointed noise escaped her lips when he ceased his activities. Smiling at her, he rolled her onto her back, and kneeled between her spread legs. She looked up at him, desirous, yet a little afraid, he was much larger then she was.

            She let out a little cry of pain, when he first began to enter her. Easing back a bit he summoned up his self control, and entered her slowly, a bit at a time. He tried to give her time to adjust to his size. She bit her lower lip, as his engorged organ opened her up. In a few minutes, he was in her as far as he dared, as not wanting to truly hurt her, he held himself back. He paused for a moment, to give her time to relax, and become accustomed to him.

            The young feline, lay beneath him, panting, her small hands tightly gripping his arms, her fingers and claws digging into him almost painfully. Slowly he began to withdraw, pulling out until just the head of his organ remained inside her. Again he paused to give her time to relax, before entering her once again.

            He continued like this, gradually picking up speed, until he had a nice slow rhythm going. She still let out gasps of pain with each gentle thrust, but her grip had relaxed. He kept the slow pace going, despite the urge to speed up and finish his body was giving him. She was tight, and squeezed him exquisitely, and he wanted to draw this out as long as he could.

            But it was not long before his body was trembling with the pent-up need for release. Her cries of pain had been replaced with gasps of pleasure every time he thrust into her. His awareness seemed to have shrunk to the tight grip she had on his organ, which was now throbbing. His pace began to quicken, and before long he could feel his climax approaching. With a strangled roar, he thrust into her, deeper then before eliciting a mingled cry of pleasure and pain from her, as he spilled his seed inside her.

            His orgasm seemed to last forever, before finally subsiding. His erection did not diminish, so great was his arousal. Instead he slid from her, producing a whimper of mingled relief and frustration. Still breathing hard he lay on his back, and motioned for her to mount him. He would give her control for a bit.

            She looked at him a hesitating for a moment, before mounting. He was bigger then her, so she had to squat in order to accommodate him. She leaned forward, placing her hands on his chest to balance herself, and slowly lowered herself onto him.

            The feeling was as intense as the first time. Made more so, by allowing her to control things. He let out a groan of pleasure as her as his prodigious girth was squeezed into her tight opening. Abruptly she stopped and looked at him, worried she might have done something wrong. He smiled at her and reassured she continued.

            It took her longer to take his full length then when he was in control, and the slowness was ecstatic torture. When she finally managed, she began to slowly move up and down his length, with a rocking motion. The feeling was intense, and he closed his eyes and relaxed, just enjoying the feel of her gyrations.

            It didn’t seem long before her motions changed, becoming erratic, and her breathing began to become rapid. He felt her tense and cry out as her orgasm began. Her orgasm filled him with a new kind of pleasure, the random movements of her body pushing him closer to another orgasm of his own.

            As he approached the edge of release, her orgasm reached its peak, her tiny claws extending to dig into the flesh of his chest. Startled by the sudden sharp pain, he gasped and opened his eyes.

            Silvery moonlight seeped through the latticed shutters of the room. The glowing crescent hung in the night sky like an enigmatic smile, its glow illuminating the bed where Bagur lay with tiny pools of blood welling up where Saph’s claws had pierced the flesh of his chest.

            Realizing that in the throes of her orgasm, she had awakened her master, Phire froze. She looked into Bagur’s eyes, seeing the confusion fade. Soon he would realize this was no longer a dream. For a long moment she just looked at him, seeing the dawning comprehension in his eyes. Unable to bear it any longer, she buried her face in his chest, tears of shame spilling from her eyes.

            “Please,” she murmured. “Don’t punish Saph. It was all me.” For a time he said nothing, the silence stretched on. Finally it was broken.

            “Saph?”

            “No, I’m her sister, Phire.” She still couldn’t bring herself to look at him, and tried to muffle a sob. She had never imagined this could happen.

            “Where’s Saph?” The confusion in his voice was unmistakable.

            “She’s in here,” Phire said. “We . . . I . . . we . . . we wanted you so badly. Saph would never do anything. So I . . .” She paused and took a deep breath. “I can enter dreams, shape them. I thought . . . I thought as long as it was just a dream it would be okay.” She let out the sob that had been building. She knew she would be punished, and hoped that the punishment, no matter what it was wouldn’t involve sending her away.

There was another stretch of silence, then she felt the gently touch of his hand on her hair.

            “Did you really need this so badly that you would take me like this?” There was no mistaking the accusing tone in his voice. Somehow that hurt more then any punishment she could suffer.

            “I didn’t mean . . . it was all supposed to stay in the dream,” she said in a week voice.

            Again there was silence, and then he sighed.

            “You’ll have to be punished of course.” She nodded wordlessly, not trusting her voice to reply. “But that will wait until we return to the compound. In the mean time, let’s get some sleep.” Nodding wordlessly, she began to climb off him. She was surprised when she felt his strong arms wrap around her and pull her close.

            He kissed her gently on the forehead, and said, “For now feel free to share my dreams, just make sure it stays in the dream.”

            So unexpected was his offer that at first she didn’t know how to respond. Phire had expected many things, but his acceptance of her actions, and encouragement to continue was not among them. Suddenly she felt Saph, uncharacteristically taking control, shunting her aside.

            Leaning up Saph kissed her master lightly on the lips, and said, “Thank you Bagur.” Then contentedly she closes her eyes, allowing their dreams to take her.