Chapter Three

Dreams of Release …

Morning came too soon. Typically, it was a time of repose, of rest, but there was no rest for Tempest. She could not sleep in as did many of her sisters; for some reason she always awakened with the sun’s dawning, although she could not see it. She stretched, pulling at her aching muscles. Wincing, she stood, then began the required calisthenics. It was important to keep her body supple and beautiful. She was the stuff dreams were made of.

Bitterly, she laughed as she bent over, touching the floor easily. When she was too old for desirability, she would become a Matron like the other bitter women who served Madame. Perhaps someday she could become a Madame, but she didn’t think that would happen. It took an exceptional woman to be the panderer for the young and innocent.

Innocent? No longer. So many things had happened to her in her life, so many fantasies she had taken part of, that there was no innocence to her any longer. She had lost that innocence in her training.

She turned as the door slid open. A tousled, brown-haired girl peeked in.

“Tempest?”

Joyously, Tempest flung herself on the younger girl. “Kitten!”

Kitten pressed her companion against her, only coming up to Tempest’s shoulder. She was a petite, delicate girl – only seventeen, with babyish features and a piquant mouth that appealed to the Seniors who wished to have a little girl to dandle. Tempest did not want to even imagine the kind of dreams that Kitten inspired.

In fact, it was an unwritten rule that no one spoke to each other of the Seniors’ lurid fantasies. There was no need to add to the trauma of their lives, or to compare their lot to another of the dreamers’.

She led Kitten into the room, closing the door behind them. There was truly no privacy, as all of the rooms were monitored, but there was no rule against two being together. In fact, such things were encouraged, as they released tensions caused by their stress filled lives.

They sat upon her bed. No one ever sat on the beds occupied by the Seniors; they had an aura of decadence that they did not want on their bodies. She embraced Kitten, held her against her body. The sensation of gentleness, of sharing warmth, suffused her and eased the ache as no stretching could.

“Was it difficult?” Kitten asked in her soft, sweet voice. Tempest nodded.

“Two in one evening. The first was aborted.”

Kitten shook her head. “Destructive?”

Tempest trembled. “Unbelievably so. But it’s not the first time I’ve pulled out ... maybe I’m just too sensitive to things. Maybe another dreamer would be able to handle what I can’t. Madame seems to think that I’ve been confrontational.”

“Oh.”

They sat silently a moment, holding hands, leaning against each other. Finally, Tempest drew the small girl to her. Kitten was pliable, willing.

She lay her mouth upon her guest’s, exploring the soft lips beneath hers, the gentle, warm tongue that met hers and circled in a dance that grew more passionate. Tempest allowed her hand to trail down, find Kitten’s delicate breast.

The bru