The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

It had seemed like a dream come true for Greg Brown, as he lay on his back with expectation, the hottest girl in the whole damned world hovering over him, removing her tight blouse, and in rapid succession, apparently wasting no time, her red bra. He gasped in awe at her mouth-watering, perfect tits, the most sumptuous, enticing, delectable boobs he’d ever seen in his life (and there had been alot of them, what with all those Playboy magazines he’d inherited from his Dad. But this girl, no, this woman was something really, really special as far as he was concerned. She had an amazing body, a sexual tigress hidden from all others, and the sweetest voice he’d ever heard. He couldn’t believe how easy it was to hook-up with her after her concert! Straddling him, she caressed her breasts in both hands, one reflecting the moonlight from her large aquamarine ring, and looked down at him.

“You like?” she cooed, already knowing the answer, if his raging hard-on swelling beneath his pants was any indication.

“Yeaaaa!” he sighed, practically mesmerized by her seductive charms.

“Show me,” she whispered, lowering herself.

He grinned widely, and got to work, his inexperienced tongue licking and flicking, his lips wrapping around a firm nipple, pressing his nose into the firm, smooth flesh of the curvaceous breast. He’d watched a little porn, and tried to remember what they did, only to fall into a method of instinct, layering her tit with non-stop licks from his tongue. She sighed from pleasure, apparently liking what she felt, so he continued it, reaching up and squeezing the one that his mouth hadn’t latched onto. She pulled back slightly and edged back and forth so that her breast traced a line over and over across his hungry mouth, teasing him with re-entry, but she didn’t allow it, not yet.

She smiled down at him in the moonlight, the shadows passing her gorgeous features as the light from her beach house struggled to keep her in sight. Undoing his pants, and shoving them down to his knees along with his underwear, she quickly pulled off her own panties, making Greg’s head swim. This was it! He was going to lose his virginity at long last and it would be to a super-gorgeous woman, a celebrity, in fact, even though nobody would ever believe him! She sighed as she lowered herself against him again, her wet pussy making him gasp from the encounter between his erection and a wet girl. He wasn’t sure if he should adjust his position, help push it in, or just start thrusting blindly, until she reached down herself, and slid his hungry sex deeply into hers.

He groaned and tried not to pass out from the mind-blowing rush of sexual desire he was feeling, never believing that sex could be such a surreal, supernatural event! Movies and TV never made it seem like this, but he wasn’t about to question it! She was starting to rock back and forth, her tight hot pussy smothering and embracing his cock, her slippery juices making his dick pulsate and engorge with the orgasm of orgasms. He’d masturbated since he was 13, but at age 21 he was about to lose his virginity and feel the greatest orgasm of his life, an orgasm the way it should be—during sex with a babe!

She was moaning too, whipping her beautiful long wavy black hair back and forth, as her hands pressed into his nearly-smooth chest, her ring glinting with moonlight as her fingers bent and clutched at his young pectorals. Resting his hands on her lusciously smooth thighs, he gently rubbed them back and forth, his breath coming in shorter and shorter waves as he neared climax.

“Love it...love me...love me...” she seemed to be whispering, but he wasn’t sure—he was too caught up in the moment, knowing at that second that he absolutely, irrevocably worshipped and submitted to her, knowing that his heart was being stolen by this sexy lady. He closed his eyes from a wave of dizziness that swamped his mind, and with a lovestruck smile playing across his lips, he opened them, and gasped from surprise.

His gorgeous sexy girl was still there, rocking and pumping his pelvis, drawing forth an impending orgasm, but even in the darkness her beautiful green eyes seemed to glow—or was it just a trick of the Moon light? This wasn’t any part of sex he’d learned in school! This wasn’t natural—what the hell was happening?! He struggled to resist, to sit up, and ask what was happening, except that she pushed him back into the sand as she continued to draw out his impending orgasm, sighing from her own rushes of sexual shivers.

Her ringed hand slid up across his chest, and caressed his cheek, as she broke out into a haunting sigh, “Love me...love me...adore me... " that turned into a lovely, ethereal song like none he’d ever heard before.

He watched her, spellbound, a strange, wispy stream of light seemed to emanate from her lovely mouth and slide into his as she sang her wordless love song, his voice and will robbed from his mind and soul, until they climaxed together, the both of them changed forever.

Dog-tired and jet-lagged from a flight covering the Emmy awards, I found I couldn’t find the strength in me to make love to my wife despite the fact that she made most Hollywood starlets look like Granny from the ‘Beverly Hillbillies’. I couldn’t wait to see her and hold her in my arms when I came home—I mean, how could I not want to after I forked over $10,000 for implants for my enjoyment? Petra was hot, blond and all mine-mine-mine! We’d been married after college, which is where we met, and hadn’t looked back, convinced that we were made for each other. I woke up, marvelling at the sight of her gorgeous tits bulging out of her flimsy nightie as I turned over and stared at her. I sighed with contentment—God, she really was the hottest chick I’d ever seen, and talk about being a tigress in bed! She was everything a man like me could ever ask for.

That, and all the money I was bringing in as the best reporter for New Magazine, a glossy version of the Enquirer meets World News meets Time. We covered it all, and my beat was mainly entertainment, ergo that trip to sunny L.A. and the Emmys. Saw a bunch of hot babes in sexy dresses and stuck-up actors squeezed into tuxedos (reverse myth: TV doesn’t add 10 pounds to you, overpaid actors just did it to themselves!), and had a good time, but my sexy Petra was usually on my mind the whole time, the loveliest of the loveliest actresses looking hot to me, but paling in comparison for my hot wife..

Still, it was a go-go-go lifestyle, which meant my hot babe of a wife didn’t see too much of me sometimes, as I liked to get into work nice and early...so I could leave nice and early and spend my money on her. Sweet guy, ain’t I?

I raced various cars down the highway in an effort to secure my ego and a parking spot at my building’s parking lot, instead of the rip-off artist across the street that charged five bucks more. Yeah, I’m kinda rich, but that five dollars could go towards something important, like an even bigger big-screen TV!

I made it just in time, as the last four spots filled up behind me, and I headed for my office, noticing my cute co-worker, Ace Reporter Extraordinaire, Jackie James, getting out of her own car, a poor run-down Chevette that had seen better days. Actually, I’m having a little fun at her expense. She’s a sweet young thing, but a bit of a nerd, what with her perennial pony tail and thick-rimmed glasses that cover what might be a cute face. She’s been on the job for three years, and still hasn’t broken the glass ceiling and truly news-worthy subjects.

“Hello, Neil. Nice time in California?” she asked, sounding a little wistful, obviously wishing she was there.

I held the door open for her, and reply with a smile, “Pretty good...until a Best Supporting Actress loser came onto me after she lost and then proceeded to get sick on my rented tux!’

“Nooo!” she gasps, her big blue eyes widening behind those crazy old-fashioned glasses. “Who? Whowhowho?” she asks, as a pair of eyes belonging to a young man watch us enter our building, his presence lost to both of us amongst others on the street.

Not wanting to give away said actress’s name I disguise it, so I can’t be blamed for revealing an embarrassing moment. “Rhymes with Blandra Blurling.”

“Nooo!” she gasps again, completely caught off guard. “Not Sandra Turling???”

“Hey, you said it, I didn’t! So, what are you working on?” I asked, as the elevator appears without me pressing the button, and we enter, followed by an overweight delivery guy that smells like B.O. with just a touch of pepperoni, a nervous-looking bald dude that just might be claustrophobic, and poor ol’ Ginger from Sales, who’s hiding her usual bloodshot hangover eyes behind extra-dark sunglasses, but not her frown of no-more-tequila-body-shots-for-me.

Jackie sighs in frustration, and replies with an equally low sighing voice, “John Does Missing Their Voices.”

“Say what?”

“You heard me. Layhe has me tracking down these ‘mysterious”,” she replies, using air quotation marks as she says the word ‘mysterious’, “nameless men that have been spotted in public, but can’t speak. They’ve lost their voices. Fantastic and exciting...right?”

I pat her on the shoulder offering solace, as I say, “Sounds like your average homeless guys, but what do I know.”

“I’m with you on that!” she frowns, beginning to step off the elevator. “But what the Editor wants...”

“...the Editor gets yesterday!” I finished, quoting our illustrious workaholic editor, C.Lawrence Layhe, who could be an annoying go-go-go prick, but sometimes smelled news. I offer her a wave good-bye, and continue on to a level higher, up to the entertainment desks. I get out, unfortunately with the guy that stinks like he’s allergic to baths but not to spicy meats, and say hello to my fellow entertainment beat co-workers that are in already.

Layhe is nearly running out of his office, clutching papers as he makes a bee-line for me, his eyes wide, his mouth gaping open as if he wants to blurt out a few choice derogatory terms but can’t make up his mind.

“Landon! We have to talk!”

I feel as if a weight of a 1999 pounds of grumpy editor is about to suplex me into next week, and my shoulders sagging as low as my belly button probably makes it obvious.

“Yes, Chief, what is it now?” I ask, sounding depressed and condescending all at once.

“Don’t call me ‘Chief’! Anyways, about last night—”

Visions of the ‘Beautiful People’ in their expensive clothes and cars comes back to me, as does a certain expulsion of stomach contents...and maybe a bill to New Magazine for the cleaning of said rented tuxedo.

“Hey, it wasn’t my fault!” I insist, holding up my hands, magically making Layhe stop a couple feet from me. “She’d been downing so much champagne just so she could give an acceptance speech on stage, even though she didn’t have a hope in hell of getting that aw—”

“Nahnahnahnahnah! That’s not it!”

“—ward. Huh?”

“I need you to get out of here and drive over to this address!” he tells me, shoving a piece of paper and a map into my fumbling hands, “And listen to this!” he says as he shoves a CD into my hands, “And read these reviews before you interview her!” he insists, as he shoves even more papers into my hands that he seems to have photocopied crookedly with a cheap 1980’s copier...which isn’t far from the truth—I’ve seen his office, and 20 years after the thing should have died he’s still trying to figure out how it works, instead of using a laser jet printer like the rest of Humanity. “Okay?! Okay!! Now go!”

“G-go where?” I ask helplessly, trying to balance all of my new assignment.

“It’s in your hands, just go! I gotta scoop 60 Minutes or CNN or People magazine on this! Enjoy! Bye!”

I stare at Layhe as he dashes off with his chaotic, frenetic energy back the way he came, chasing down Ron from the mail room, who once again showed up to work wearing his favorite Ozzy Osbourne t-shirt instead of a tie.

I drove down the freeway, and tried to listen to the CD he’d shoved in my face, but over the noise of the traffic and wind in my ears as I drove with the top down, I think I heard some nice music and nice vocals, but I was pretty sure it wasn’t my type of music. Almost operatic, long, drawn out la-la-laaaaa’s, and words that were stretched out and merged into the strings of the songs, it wasn’t exactly Top 10, but thank God it wasn’t Country or Gangsta Rap! I would have had to fake mental illness or something to get out of that.

Stuck behind a mile of cars because of some dumb-ass that didn’t know enough to signal when he drove across four lanes of traffic to make a sudden off-ramp course change, I turned down the CD to a lower volume so I could scan the research Layhe had dumped onto me. And there wasn’t much of it, surprisingly. I guess that was my job— find out more about this new singer who barely anyone had heard about, but was suddenly selling enough CD’s to warrant super-star status.

I blinked and held my notes closer to my eyes, and shook my head, figuring Layhe had written one too many zeroes when it came to her record sales. In the six months since she’d arrived on the scene, playing only in sold-out small bars and clubs, and releasing a single CD of seven songs, she’d amassed more sales in less time than Madonna or U2 had in their best albums! How was this possible, I thought to myself. Stadium performances, airplay on radio stations, television appearances—those contributed to such high sales numbers, but not someone who was basically lying low and just starting out. The CD’s just kept getting sold-out at an amazing rate, forcing hundreds of thousands more to be cut again and again.

I decided to pay attention to her song on my car’s CD player, now that it wasn’t being muffled by the noises of the highway, and found myself appreciating her vocal talents. I stared at the truck in front of me, and allowed my eyelids to close to block out the blazing sun and really listen to her lovely voice...

I jumped in my seat as a chorus of horns began to blare angrily at me, and gasped as I saw the truck was now a half mile in front of me! I must have been sitting there for over a minute after it took off, but how was that possible? I never heard it leave and I could have sworn I’d just closed my eyes for a few moments...geez! I took my foot off the brake, and revved my engine like a maniac, forcing my car to go over the speed limit so that I could catch up to the traffic in front of me, and settle the nerves of the confused and annoyed drivers behind me.

Hell, I was confused and annoyed with myself, dropping off to sleep like that! Chalking it up to my jet-lag, I shut off the CD to concentrate on driving without music. I preferred to have something on, but I didn’t even risk the all-news radio station on the AM dial, as I’d obviously been lulled into a comfort zone that would land me into the dead zone if I didn’t smarten up!

A half hour later I pulled up before an impressive mansion, decorated outside to perfection with a multitude of trees, manicured bushes, and loads of flowers. A crescent-shaped driveway led me to the front door, and pointed out towards a separate exit—something I was hoping I wouldn’t be sent driving out in the next minute, if this singer, Valaria, had an ego and told me where to stick my interview. I was expecting the worst, since she was somewhat notorious, according to Layhe’s research, for her preference to remain detached from the press. It was my job to dig deeper and get a ‘grand expose’ on her— not dirt, per se, but interesting stuff, beyond who she was secretly dating and if she had an eating disorder.

I was met at the door by her butler, and told him I had an appointment with her, mispronouncing her name ‘Valler-ria’, rhyming it with ‘galleria’, only to be corrected by him as he pronounced it ‘Val-lar-reeya’. Blushing an apology, he led me into the impressive home, decorated with sculptures and paintings and furniture that probably cost a bundle. I could see where she was spending her millions.. Instructed to wait at the entrance to a parlour where she was joined by several people, the butler entered to inform her of my presence.

I turned my back on her, checking out the mansion’s fixtures and furniture, wondering if she had all this to herself or were Mommy and Daddy holed up somewhere on the third floor or basement. I overheard her voice instructing Jeeves or Smith or Pennyworth or whatever the butler’s name was, to tell me to wait a couple minutes while she finished her business here. I nodded my agreement to the older man, but declined anything to drink, so he left.

I watched her from a profile angle as a pair of women showed her selections of jewelry that would put Jennifer Lopez in the poor house, and materials for future dresses. A third person fussed over her; an older man, possibly late 50’s, that must have been her make-up artist, if his precision and concentration on painting her nails was any indication. Never could understand how gay guys (and he must be gay if that look of complete interest in treating this woman like a queen was any indication) could be so interested in making women look so good when they didn’t want to have anything to do with them sexually. Don’t get me wrong—I know there are alot of gay men out there doing spectacular, amazing things to make actresses and models look stunning and seductive, but I just couldn’t figure out how they knew how to do such a good job if they’re afraid of being that close to a pussy.

I stood a good five yards from her, but even from here I could admire her beauty. I’d neglected to look at her CD cover, so this was a very pleasant surprise. She had long jet-black hair that was straight until it fell to her shoulders, at which point an extra foot of tresses cascaded into a wavy waterfall of soft, shiny hair. Her arched eyebrows were as finely-maintained as her nails, and her lips were colored with a shade of red that would make the planet Mars jealous. She possessed a fine, feminine jawline and a sweet perky nose that if it was real, must have been the work of a masterpiece of genetics between her parents. I guessed that she was between 24 and 26, and certainly one of the lovliest ladies I’d seen in a while. As she approved of at least three different necklaces from the saleswoman, her legs remained crossed, exposing perfect legs from a pink one-piece mini-dress, and ended with a comfortable pair of high heels that weren’t too high, giving her pointed toes and calf something for me to drool over.

After spending who knows how many thousands of dollars on new stuff, the salespeople were thanked and ushered out by Larry the Butler, and I was finally introduced to my interviewee.

“Hi, I’m Neil Landon, I’m from New Magazine. I’m here for an interview.”

I extended my hand, and as she stood up there was a look in her beautifully almond-shaped eyes that I noticed. They were a lovely sea-green, and thanks to old gay guy, had been made up perfectly with just the right amount of shadow, mascara, and eyeliner. God, she was hot, I found myself thinking. She reached for my hand and held it for a few moments as she smiled at me, seemingly searching my features for a sign of recognition as she asked,

“Mister Landon....have we met before?”

I grinned and wracked my brains for a chance encounter, a look across a crowded bar, a one-time science geek in high school with too much acne and no game when it came to school girls, but I shook my head.

“I’m sure I would have remembered meeting you before, Ms....” I said suavely, hitting a brick wall as I realized that I hadn’t caught her surname in Layhe’s research notes. “Errr...” I stuttered, unsure if I should call her by her first name, since we’d just met.

“Valaria,” she prompted. “I only go by my given name.”

“Oh,” I smiled, sensing a little bit of an ego, thinking of about five celebrities that could go by just their first name, and only because of their accomplishments. “Well, anyways, no, this is my first time meeting you. And may I say that I really enjoyed—enjoy your music,” I corrected too late, trying to make it sound like I’d known about her before this morning, so as to not give the impression that I knew more about black holes in space than this lovely up-and-coming songstress.

“Well, then shall we get comfortable?” she asked demurely, making me realize then and there that I was still holding her hand, even though she didn’t seem to mind. I sat in the nearest chair, vacated by Mr.Make-Up, who stood off to one side, looking like he expected to be needed further. Geez, the guy must love his job. “You said you’d like to interview me?”

I nodded, hoping my eyes weren’t displaying too much of a puppy dog pleasepleaseplease signal—I hated to disappoint Layhe, because he enjoyed getting back at me when I returned with nothing or not enough. “Ordinarily, I don’t speak to the press very much—I prefer to keep my personal life personal, but in your case...” she said, flashing me a perfect white smile surrounded by sensuously-perfect red lips, “...I’ll be happy to make an exception. Although I might have to decline certain answers.”

“Our readers would enjoy anything you could tell them,uh, Valaria. First, I understand you’re not from America?”

She shook her head, sitting back in her chair and draping her long, slender arms across the back so that she was bracketed by ten gleaming red nails, a glittering gold bracelet on one wrist and one expensive-looking blue ring on her other hand. I found my throat become dry and she crossed those amazing legs of her, displaying a much appreciated amount of smooth skin, her toes pointing right at me.

“I’m from...the Mediterranean.”

“Oooh!” I smiled, writing this down on my pad, impressed; always been attracted to women from other countries—England, France, Italy, Spain. “Uh, you’re from Italy or Greece, perhaps?”

She offered me that same enigmatic smile with a slight shrug of her shoulders. “Perhaps.”

“Uh-huh,” I smiled back at her—I couldn’t seem to stop grinning like an idiot around her. Oh well. “Still want to keep that on the down-low?”

Her eyebrows knitted together, as she repeated “’Down...low’?”

“Secret. Undisclosed.”

“Oh. For now, yes.”

“Family? Anyone here in the States? In...this big house?”

She seemed to think about how to word this, until she answered, “I have sisters. And some step-sisters. My parents don’t live here.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” I said, prompting her to tilt her head and register confusion. I clarified, by saying, “Step-sisters seems to imply your parents are divorced.”

“Oh. They aren’t.” Huhhhh??? I thought to myself. She added, “My parents have what you Americans would consider ‘an open relationship’.”

I squinted at her and tried to figure out the logistics of that. “Do they do things so differently in the Mediterranean that your parents—”

“I would appreciate it if the interview centered more on myself,” she calmly interjected. “Wouldn’t you...Neil?”

I couldn’t help but stare at her, falling into those lovely green eyes as her semi-exposed leg began to slowly rock on top of her knee, and she rested her ringed-fingers against her smooth pink-hued cheek, glittering from the sun outside.

“Oh, sure. Sure, no problem. Sorry. Ahem!”

“Would you like something to drink? Anthony, would you be a love an bring us something?. Orange juice, lemonade, some such thing, please?”

“My pleasure, Valaria,” the make-up artist said, bestowing his own smile andwhattheheck??? Did I just see him bow a few inches before her? What was she, anyway, royalty back home or something?

“Is he your regular make-up guy slash go-fer?”

“I’m sorry? ‘Slash go fur’?” she repeated back to me.

Despite a general lack of an obvious accent, I kept forgetting that she wasn’t from these parts, and might not be familiar with our slang, despite her perfect English...and perfect mouth...and probably perfect hooters..anyways!...

“I mean, does he do more than just keep you looking so...so lovely?” I said, ending in a sigh. UGH! Stupidstupidstupid!

She replied, not registering it as an insult or some-on, “Anthony is my Manager. He also—”

“Manager?” I couldn’t help interrupting. “Don’t you have a larger staff? One to take care of your individual needs like doing your nails and errands?”

She shrugged again. “Anthony loves ser—, that is, he enjoys helping me in almost anything I need.”

“Oh, okay. It’s just that compared to other celebrity’s managers I’ve met, Anthony is certainly the best—” I wanted to say ‘well-trained’, but that would definitely be an insult, “—at covering alot of territory. Not that I’m complaining, mind you! He’s an excellent make-up artist..”

Old Tony showed up with refreshments and I have to admit I was super-happy when he split, allowing more private time with this sexy babe from the mysterious Mediterranean. I got to know her a little more, and felt drawn to her, intoxicated by her voice even as she simply spoke about mundane things. I would have to listen to that CD again! Recalling the salespeople earlier and her purchases, I said,

“That’s a pretty ring—did you pay alot for it?”

She smiled and admired it, holding it beneath her, splaying her fingers and gently wiggling them so the light caught the ornately-cut gold of the band, as well as the finely-chiseled blue gemstone in the middle.

“Do you like it? I didn’t buy it. I found it...in the sea.”

“That stone was in the Mediterranean?” I asked, surprised that such a gem, whatever it was, could be found intact and that size. It was oval and as large as a grape.

“Yes.. I’ve had it for as long as I can remember, and I never take it off.”

I chuckled, saying, “Bet it sets off alot of airport alarms at the baggage check-in!”

She nearly frowned, and shrugged again. “I’ve never flown. I much prefer to take a boat. I do so love the sea, the ocean.”

“Well, I hope the ship from your home to Miami wasn’t too long?”

“It could have lasted another week and I wouldn’t have minded, Neil. I feel at ease and at home...near the water.”

Nodding and writing down as much as I could in the time we had left, she was still able to skirt around some questions, preferring to maintain that enigmatic secrecy about her, and the longer she did this, the more I approved. There was something about this beautiful mystery woman that I enjoyed being around immensely, and began to think, ‘To hell with Layhe and the general public—Valaria deserves her privacy!’ Which was a bit of a contradiction since it was my job to learn more about her, and I had a reputation as a reporter that would dig and dig until I learned something secret.

With other appointments pressing, she escorted me to her front door, linking her arm around and through one of mine, making us look like a couple as she leisurely directed me to wherever she wanted me to go. This close to her I could smell her perfume, and it was unlike anything I’d ever smelled before. Not too hard to do, I suppose, if you’re rich enough to wear something only a few dozen of the world’s richest women could afford to wear. Turning to me, she took my hands in hers and continued to hold them as she flashed that same intoxicating smile of hers and said,

“I’ve enjoyed myself very much, Neil. I’m glad you came.”

“Well, thank you, Valaria. My article will have nothing but great things to say about you, I promise.”

“My day is busy, but my evening isn’t, at the moment.”

“Uuhhh,” I stuttered, unsure where this was going, until I recalled that dumb actress trying to pick me up and also getting sick. Looks like I was irresistible to her, too! “I’m...” Married. Say it. “I’m...” Why couldn’t I admit it?? She helped me out by offering,

“Attached?”

“Yea. Sorta,” I mumbled, even though my wedding ring should’ve have been a dead giveaway. And why was I not just telling her the truth?

She flashed that same lovely smile, looking at my face, and I’m not making this up, continually lowering her eyes to check out my mouth as if she wanted to kiss me.

“We can continue our...business meeting, then...tonight. Allow me to offer you dinner here, as well.”

“Well, you really don’t have to...” I said, trailing off, distracted by those wonderful full red lips of hers again.

“I want to. Don’t you?” she asked, smiling slyly at me again, and making all resistance wash out of me.

“Yes. Alright. I’ll be...here. What t-time?”

“Seven. We can talk...eat...” she said, pulling me in and giving me a European two-cheek kiss, but real slow and real sexy., “....watch the sunset...learn more of each other.”

“Um...”

“I’m sure I know you from somewhere, Neil,” she said, finally releasing me, but again, slowly, as if she wanted to not only keep holding my hands, but more than that! “We’ll find out. Tonight.”

Tonight I was supposed to be having sex with my wife and her lovely fake boobies, but as I drove back to the office I found myself with an unresolved sexual rush that kept Valaria’s image in my head. Had I met her before? How was it possible if she’d only come to America 6 months ago, and I’d never been to Europe or anywhere near the Mediterranean region? She must have been a guest at a corporate party, with TV and/or record executives and saw me in the same room, because I knew I couldn’t have forgotten meeting and speaking to such a gorgeous...enticing...intoxicating...voluptuous...seductive..—WHOOAA!

I fought for control of my car as my mind fell off to day dreaming again, and I nearly didn’t apply my brakes on time behind a slower car in front of me! What was wrong with my driving today?

I shook my head, slapped my face a couple times, and forced myself to concentrate on the road, and not this gorgeous woman whom I couldn’t wait to see again. I looked in my rear-view mirror and gasped, whipping a telltale trace of her lipstick off the edge of my jawline that I hadn’t noticed when I left her home. Petra was cool with my knocking elbows with the Hollywood Elite, but not cheeks or lips!

I cranked up the all-metal-head-banger radio channel on my return trip, just to keep myself from playing her CD again, which would only serve to distract me further.

But, damn she was hot!

It was a little safer to be distracted and staring off into the sky outside in my office, than it was on the freeway, so I sat in my office at New Magazine, and played Valaria’s CD in the background to inspire me as I began my article on my PC.. I watched the sky as it stayed blue and sunny and happy all day, eventually taking on a darker hue as early evening began to approach. If I’’d bothered to look outside I would have noticed a man pacing back and forth across the street, seemingly waiting for someone, or perhaps unable to decide if he should visit the New Magazine offices. I was distracted by a heavy knocking on the door, and sat up straight in my chair, realizing that I had a visitor.

“Not planning over-time, are you, Neil?” Jackie asked, using a finger to push her thick glasses a little higher up her nose.

“Oh,nononono!” I said, rearranging some stuff on my desk. “I’ve got a dinner date tonight.” She frowned at the terminology. “Noth-nothing like that. Just dinner. A dinner and a time and a date to have it on.”

“Oh. How was your interview with that singer?”

“Amazing. She’s like a cross between Megan Fox, Angelina Jolie, Jenna Jameson and...well...Megan Fox. Gorgeous!” I sighed, looking of into space, then shook myself back to reality when I noticed her reaction to my memories. “Errr, how—how’s the mystery ‘homeless-guys-that-can’t-talk’ article going?” I asked, actually not interested in it at all.

“Oooh, greaaaat!” she replied sarcastically, rolling her pretty eyes behind her big round specs. “Brutal, actually! I’m starting to think it’s just an Urban Myth, because when I Googled it I got hundreds of thousands of results, and then my computer crashed! I was just about to key in one of the matches, a news story from a month ago about reports about them them in Myrtle Beach, and ba-zoom! Gone!”

“Did the I.T. boys fix it for you?”

“No, Neil, I mean, the article got zapped! It came up as non-existent! Even though I’d read as far as the first paragraph! It was weird! It was as if someone deleted it when they discovered I was checking it out!”

“Uh...huh...” I said, shrugging my shoulders. I had a neurotic, paranoid girlfriend like her once...thank God I didn’t marry the crazy chick! Always looking over her shoulder, always thinking every car horn on the road was directed towards her, always thinking she was finding weird stuff in her food and it was on purpose...strange girl.

“Anyways, I’ve had enough for today. You leaving soon?”

“When I finish my—” I said, as my eyes darted back to my computer screen.. I must have given away my confusion in my face because Jackie stepped forward, but I waved her back. “Yeah, uh, just gotta fix some punctuation and stuff before I go. Have a good night.”

“Okay. ‘night,” she said, a little disappointed that I wasn’t walking her to her car, as I usually did every night that I wasn’t traipsing across the USA for a batch of Emmy or Golden Globe award interviews. She left my doorway, and I fell back into my chair with a sigh of relief at not being caught in an inexplicable situation by a co-worker. Not only had I daydreamed most of the day aware, but my computer screen was filled from top to bottom with just one name over and over....

Valaria, Valaria, Valaria, Valaria, Valaria, Valaria, Valaria, Valaria, Valaria, Valaria, Valaria, Valaria, Valaria, Valaria, Valaria, Valaria, Valaria,

Valaria, Valaria, Valaria, Valaria, Valaria, Valaria, Valaria, Valaria, Valaria, Valaria, Valaria, Valaria, Valaria, Valaria, Valaria, Valaria, Valaria,

Valaria, Valaria, Valaria, Valaria, Valaria, Valaria, Valaria, Valaria, Valaria, Valaria, Valaria, Valaria, Valaria, Valaria, Valaria, Valaria, Valaria

For the second time in eight hours I found myself pulling up to her big home, but my anxiety was ten times higher, and I had more questions racing through my head, and not many of them were work-related! She’d kinda come on to me this morning, so was she considering this a date? I told I was married...didn’t I? I couldn’t remember! If I had, why was she pursuing me? More to the point...why was I here?! I knew I was married, so why was I returning to Valaria’s mansion when my instincts told me that she wanted to do more than just answer back-up questions to a reporter? A damn good-looking reporter, obviously, but didn’t she respect the institution of marriage?

Marriage! Oh, hell, I forgot to call Petra! I’d only been thinking about Valaria and my interview with her all day that I’d neglected to inform her that I wouldn’t be having dinner with her or even coming home at a normal time! I fumbled for my cell, but the butler had already opened at the front door, and asked me to come in. I couldn’t find the damn phone anywhere in my car, anyway, so thinking that I’d left it back at the office, I climbed out of my convertible, and my dinner date/second interview with the hottest singer I’d ever laid eyes on.

As Jackie decided on making a detour to a local burger joint for her usual dinner by herself, a man she’d never met before cautiously walked towards her, seemingly interested in grabbing her purse or maybe even her fries. She squinted at him and took on an expression of don’t-you-dare, until she realized that tears were forming in his eyes. He opened his mouth and tried to speak, but could only release a choking grunt. He looked to be roughly 55 years old or a little more, clean-shaven and dressed casually, but his eyes were confused, his demeanor unpredictable.

“Can...I help you?” she asked, always the kind-hearted Mid-Westerner that she was.

He sat down across from her, his expression telling her he wasn’t sure what to say, what to do, appearing as lost as a 5-year old alone at a heavy metal concert.

“Do I know you?” she asked, gently. He shook his head, looking everywhere, but rarely at her. With a shaking hand, he opened his mouth, but didn’t say anything other than a grunt, as he pointed at his eyes, and then pretended to hold something in his hands. “But you know me? You’ve read my articles?” she ventured. He nodded rapidly. He mimicked writing something, and she offered him a pen and a paper.

What he couldn’t say aloud, he could just barely scribble, but it was just legible enough to read.

We dined at a large table, but at right angles to one another, with her at the head, and me beside her on her left. She looked absolutely stunning, putting to shame every young and overly-made-up actress I’d seen at the Emmy’s last night. Valaria’s hair gleamed and smelled wonderful from whatever she’d washed it with, the straight portion framing her full, smiling cheeks, until the wavy portion slithered down her shoulders and relaxed across her perfect cleavage.

Ah, yes, the cleavage! Her sumptuous breasts were an absolute distraction the entire meal, as her tight-fitting shimmering green dress was low-cut, and in a V-shape, exposing about two-thirds of her bra-less boobs...no. I didn’t want to disrespect them by calling them ‘boobs’ or ‘tits’. Valaria’s deserved to be called ‘cleavage’, ‘wondrously feminine breasts’, ‘magnificent perfection’. Not that I could refer to them at all in my article, but in my mind, they were mouth-wateringly enticing and magnetic. She wore earrings that matched her blue ring, intricate chains that ended with similar blue gem stones in a teardrop shape, glittering from the nearby candlelight.

Her make-up was perfect, with her eye-shadow a smokey navy-blue to compliment the thin black eyeliner that encircled her cat-like green eyes that swept upwards at the outer tips in a permanent smile. Her long curled eyelashes fanned downward with grace when she returned her gaze to her seafood, and sprung up often to grace me with her lovely sparkling green eyes when she looked back at me. And her lips...ahh, those amazing, full, sensuous pouting lines of soft, kissable pillows, that I couldn’t help but yearn to feel again, smiled and formed lovely shapes as she spoke, or sipped her wine. She’d gone for a more pinkish-red color tonight, and their heart-shape just melted my heart! I felt like a goofy fan, hoping that I could get a picture or autographed poster of her that I could stick up on my wall in my room to fawn and stare at as I...welll...you know. Private time.

As we finished our dinner, and were graced with another filled wine glass courtesy of her butler, I noticed that she was still wearing her large blue ring. “You really do never take that off?” I asked, curious and making conversation, but thinking that it really was an attractive ring, feminine, and sexy, accentuating her femininity.

She looked at it again, and held it closer to me, so that I could hold her fingers in my own hand Yes! Contact!, and examine it for myself. “It’s beautiful...isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” I said, feeling myself becoming lost in it’s glossy blue color. I couldn’t help but stare into it, examine and admire it’s intricate design, as well as her soft, slender fingers. “What...is it? Sapphire? T-topaz...Tan..zinite...?”

“As blue as the sea...from somewhere never seen by man before...gleaming...sparkling...”

“Yesss...” I sighed, watching as the light caught the intoxicating pale blue of the stone’s chiseled diamond-shaped angles, as well as the finely-decorated gold of the ring, itself, complimenting her lovely slender fingers which ended with perfectly-manicured red nails. I began to notice her ring seemed to be getting closer very slowly, as if I was leaning in to kiss it...I was! I sat back and released her hand, feeling my cheeks flush and my throat tighten and dry up. “Whoa! Sorry! I think I’m jet-lagged or something! I think I was about to pass out...or something!”

“Or something,” she smiled, unoffended, watching me with those beautiful eyes of hers, and I swear perhaps a level of enjoyment that I’d nearly given in to all of her secret signals and my own hidden desires for her. “Shall we relax in my parlour?”

“Uh, yea, yea, let’s!” I said, abruptly rising because I wanted to collect my thoughts, discovering too late that my pants were displaying an obvious bulge for her. I slid behind her quickly, and pulled her chair out for her, so she could stand.

“This way,” she offered with a curled finger over her shoulder.

I followed her, but kept my distance behind her so that I could force non-sexual thoughts through my mind to enforce some shrinkage, but it was all for naught. She had a mesmerizing wiggle in that tight dress that just accentuated that gorgeous bum of hers that I remained half-way to my full size until we sat down. Needless to say, I had to stifle a grunt as I sat beside her and crossed one leg over the other to hide my now-full erection from her, casually laying a hand across my lap to hide it. She had no mercy—she sat facing me, crossed legs displaying even more desirable thigh than this morning.

I tried to ask her questions, tried to think of vital information to pump out of her to be used for an article, but she either skirted around the issue, replied with a single ‘yes’ or ‘no’, and generally insured that my original article (not the Valaria-Valaria-Valaria-Valaria one!, would have as little as a single paragraph added to it.

“I listened to your CD today. I gotta tell you, it was the most amazing music and singing I’d ever heard!” I smiled at her. “I couldn’t seem to get enough of it!”

“Thank you,” she smiled back at me, her lips playing with the rim of her wine glass until she finally took a sip.

“It’s the strangest thing, but I think I listened to it almost ten times! And I still haven’t gotten tired of it! Every song on it was like I was listening to it for the first time, even though I’d already heard it five or six or seven times before! How did you manage that? Magic?” I joked.

She smiled that same red-hued smile back and me, pretty eyes sparkling back at me with that eyes-that-smile expression, and replied, “Something like that.”

“Well, my compliments to your sound engineers or your vocal coach or whatever it is that made it such an enjoyable experience. You knows, it’s funny, but I actually can’t wait to hear your CD again!”

“Perhaps I’ll sing for you here and now,” she said, brushing the back of her nails and her ring across my cheek, her eyes locking me within her gaze.

I couldn’t make up my mind, as before I simply lusted after her sexy curves and skin, but somehow she’d made me yearn and lust for her singing voice as much as her body or lips. I felt myself falling off into my daydream world again, as I literally hung on her every word, turning my cheek slightly so her fingers and her blue ring pressed a little more firmly into my skin, bringing them to life with unexpected, heightened sensations. I nearly came as her ring gently passed across my lower lip as she withdrew her hand, and rested it instead on my shoulder. She broke my delirium as she told me,

“I think I know why I’ve felt like we’ve met before, Neil.”

“Uh, huh,” I grunted, admiring her eyes and the eyeshadow that she’d decorated them with. “Um, why is that?” I asked, trying to focus.

“Do you believe in soul mates?”

“Uh, well, I guess it’s possible,” I said, forcing my mind to come up with an intelligent opinion other than a bunch of grunts. “Sometimes two people just hit it off better than others, so I think that qualifies...”

“I mean true soul mates,” she clarified. “Two people that are destined to come together because Fate had brought them to each other, time and again.”

Was she talking about us? I wondered. I really should mention the damned ‘M’ word I’d been keeping locked away, but all I wanted was to hear her speak...or sing...

“Well, yes, I’ve heard of that. Not sure if one or both such people weren’t overreacting to the situation, but, er, I suppose in the end they were just so...deeply in love...that there was no other way to explain it. It felt right, and...seemed to exist at the core of their being.”

“I believe in it, Neil. I believe we’ve met before...in another life.”

“Oh...okay,” I smiled, a glimmer of confusion entering my kind as I waited for her to tell me that we were both aliens from another planet in our previous lives.

“It’s true, Neil, I know it. I feel it. Think back, back beyond the life you know now, to another time and place...”

“I’m not sure I can,” I admitted.

“Focus on me...think back...search your hidden memories of me...of us...”

I felt myself become lost in her gorgeous eyes again and couldn’t look away...didn’t want to look away, and seemed to feel her fingers caress my cheek again, as I tried to picture us together...intimately...somewhere else...I felt myself imagining us naked and making love, but could only think of it as just another masturbatory fantasy, something my imagination could conjure up, like me setting foot on the Moon...not real, but vivid. I told myself...or was she telling me?...to think of it as real, as a memory of us...and not a creative fantasy of a writer...

“Kiss me,” I heard her sigh, and this time I didn’t stop myself as I leaned in, her head tilting to one side, her hair falling across her shoulder and across her cheek.

I didn’t stop myself as I lowered my eyelids as we got close enough for our lips to meet, and felt the same exhilarating, mind-blowing sensations as before when I nearly kissed her ring. Her lips were just as soft and smooth as I’d imagined them to be...or...as I remembered them to be? She pressed into me, moving her head slightly back and forth as the kiss went on and on, as if our lips were made for each other because they fit so perfectly. It drew out from a few seconds, to long seconds, and perhaps for over a minute. I’d always thought it looked goofy or cheesy when a guy on TV gently touched the cheek of the woman he was kissing, but I found myself doing so myself, if only to feel her soft hair being brushed back and my finger tips melted into the soft skin of her cheeks.

A chirping sound of birds distracted me enough to break our kiss, her sleepy-eyed expression keeping my own eyes locked on her seductive visage. I gathered my breath, and realized it was my cell phone—I did have my phone on me, after all, and I knew exactly who it was! Her, I thought with a sour expression. She was interrupting us, she was being nosey and annoying. Why did she have to ruin anything special that happened to me? What the hell did she want now, for crap’s sake??? I reluctantly began to reach in my sports jacket for it, but Valaria placed her hand over mine.

“Don’t answer it,” she told me, making it sound like a request and a command at the same time.

I hesitated for about one second, before I smiled at her again, bringing forth another beautiful smile from her to melt my heart. My hand did as she wanted instead, wrapping around her shoulders, as hers did around mine, one hand exploring the hair on the back of my head, until she used it to pull me into her, so that my lips were on hers once again. She pressed long and seductively into me, not quite forcing my mouth open to greet her tongue, but nearly so. My lips felt like they were on fire, senses heightened to supernatural limits, able to feel her soft, silky lips and her lipstick moreso than any woman I’d ever kissed in my life. Her soft breath caressed my face as she exhaled lightly onto me, to which I inhaled deeply, enjoying the scent of her perfume. Her slender fingers stroked and played with my hair, enhancing our kiss in ways I never knew could be done.

The cell phone had stopped ringing for a couple minutes, but began again, forcing a streak of guilt in me that made me break our kiss. I caught my breath, forcing my eyes away from her tigress-like stare of sexual hunger, and nearly cried as I sighed guiltily,

“This...isn’t right. I’m...married...Valaria.”

She sat in silence for a few seconds, prompting me to finally look at her, but surprisingly, she wore a calm, confident smile, one hand gently twirling a thick strand on air beside her cheek. I thought she’d misheard me or thought I was playing hard to get, so just as I was about to repeat my depressing fact, she told me in that melodious voice of hers,

“It doesn’t matter, Neil. It will never matter now. Not to true soul mates.”

I was about to ask her how she could be so certain about something so theoretical, when she placed her fingers lightly across my jawline, opened her mouth, and began to sing a wordless song of such soul-embracing erotic beauty that I couldn’t look away from her seductive visage, and allowed it to overwhelm and seduce my very being.

“Neil, it’s Jackie, I’m back at the office, and I’ve been doing research! Crazy research for my story but I think it’s going to effect you, too! Are you there? Oh, darn-it! Anyways, you know how I’ve been following these reports of homeless mute men? Well, it turns out I’ve found the source of their ailment! God, it’s like a horror movie or science fiction, and you probably won’t believe me when I tell you, but you’ve got to listen to me! You’re in great danger! She’s going to do to you what she’s done to other men! I met one, Neil; his name is Greg Mason, and he had an encounter with this singer you’ve been interviewing, Valaria? Neil, this is going to sound insane, but Greg tells me that he was just 21 years old a couple days ago! He looks like he’s 61 today, Neil! He’s lost his voice, because she took it from them when they had sex!”

I don’t remember removing my clothes, or going upstairs, but I do recall seeing her gracefully slide out of her tight green dress to expose a body to die for with curves that could turn a gay guy straight. She hadn’t been wearing a bra underneath, and that was just fine by me, as it allowed me to see her luscious breasts and their perky firm nipples immediately. A tiny thong hid about one percent of her private area, a sexy silk black diamond of material over her pussy with a pair of strings wrapping across her curvaceous hips and a bottom that begged to be caressed and squeezed by me.

Maybe I don’t remember undressing because she did so much of it for me as she sang that lovely, lilting, wordless song, her eyes locked on mine, my smile displaying my obvious pleasure at hearing it.. God, her lips were so perfect, with the loveliest shade of red coloring their shape, the epitome of a woman’s mouth that not one in a hundred million possessed. I felt cooler and freer—I guess I was completely naked by then, but that didn’t matter. I just wanted her amazing song to continue, and I was lucky enough for it do to so as she took me by one hand, and as she drew me into her large stand-up granite shower upstairs in her en suite, her other hand gracefully danced before my eyes, turning and twisting gently in mid-air the way a belly-dancer used her hands, as if it was actually manipulating the sound of her song. The light danced off her beautiful nails and her lovely ancient ring from the sea, catching my eyes again and again, enveloping me within an appreciation of their sparkle and shine.

She turned on the water, which should have distracted me, but only served to enhance the situation, as hot water shot forth from a silver shower head, and danced across our naked bodies, swimming through our hair, raining down off our backs s and chests, tickling our feet as every inch of our bodies was encompassed by the revitalizing, seduction-enhancing streams of water. She embraced me around my shoulders, looking into my eyes, our lips nearing for another kiss from this goddess, as I enveloped her around her waist, drawing her in tightly as I pressed my aching erection against her belly. Her song began to fade as our lips touched again, and continued as a faint hum as we fully kissed again, water trickling down across our faces, and slithering down our backs, until she stopped singing so her tongue could find it’s way into my mouth to embrace and enslave my own tongue.

By then I didn’t care, as her song was inescapable, and seemed to remain in my mind, and I finally felt as if I truly was with my soul mate, just as she believed.

“Okay, I know you’re thinking I’m crazy and jumping to conclusions, Neil, but you know me, I’m the Queen of Research, and I can find anything, and lots of it! I tracked down the most recent cases of these mute old homeless men, and found them in Myrtle Beach, Miami, Virginia Beach, Portland, Maine, even over in Europe in Brindisi and Pescara, Italy, and always near water, but it all seems to begin in the Greek Islands! Specifically, bars and clubs in Greece! Clubs that Valaria sang at, Neil, which soon had an outbreak of men that aged rapidly and lost their life essence little by little after they met her! At the same time they lost their voices because she’d taken that from them, too, and gradually lost their identity, finally roaming the streets until they died of old age a week later! Neil, Valaria isn’t a singer from Greece, she’s a Siren!”

Our hands roamed all over our sexually-charged bodies even as the water followed our movements. Valaria turned around from me, so that she could press and wiggle her back and bottom into my throbbing erection and muscular six pack, one hand holding my arm that I embraced her smooth belly with, as her other reached up behind her to lightly brush against my lips, my cheeks. Her blue ring gleamed like a living thing as the hot water showered and danced across it’s every cut and curve, and I found my free hand holding her hand by the palm so that I could finally and enthusiastically kiss and explore it again with my lips. I felt entranced by it’s beauty, marvelling at it’s rich design and intoxicating blue colour. It was like the bluest of the sea and sky at the same time, the gold radiating color like a golden sunrise, eliciting a feeling within me like I’d begun a new life with my lover.

Her hand reached up past my cheek and behind my head again, pulling me into the silky smoothness of her neck where her perfume was somehow not being washed off, managing to ensnare me, it’s lovely seductive scent impossible to wash off with mere water. I kissed and licked her neck up and down, tasting her skin and the hot water of the shower that was binding us together. The sparkling gold of her ornately-designed earrings that drooped down to encompass a blue gemstone similar to her ring tickled my nose as my face brushed against them, my mind convinced that they were the loveliest earrings I’d ever seen—a perfect compliment to this voluptuously sexy woman that was by far the most beautiful woman in the world. Her make-up even remained on her eyes and lips, just as her perfume did, somehow. She turned her face all the way over her shoulder, and with her arm hooked below me, her hand pulled my face inwards towards her, our lips meeting again, joining us as one, my free hand massaging her perfect breasts, my hand the perfect fit for their feminine shape.

“I know what you’re thinking, but I’m not drunk or imaging this! People always thought that they were just some kind of mythological entity, originally handmaidens to the goddess Persephone before Demeter turned them into Sirens, but I have proof that they exist here and now in the present day! According to my research the Sirens were beings who were believed to have the power of enchanting and charming any one who heard them with their singing. One story says that Jason and the Argonauts encountered them, but they’re best known for the story of Odysseus whose ship came near the island on which the Sirens were sitting. They tried to lure him and his companions to their island, but on the advice of Circe, Odysseus stuffed the ears of his companions with wax, and tied himself to the mast of his vessel, until he was far enough away that he could no longer hear their song. Ships usually crashed into the rocks and crews died trying to swim to the Sirens, because their song cast a love spell over them. There were several names of Sirens given in literature like Aglaopheme, Thelxiepeia, Peisinoë, Parthenope, Ligeia, and Leucosia, but apparently none named ‘Valaria’, but then again, she could be any of these Sirens, and just using ‘Valaria’ as her present-day name. I don’t know where the life-essence draining and muteness comes from, but maybe that’s what happens when a mortal mates with a Siren. Oh, brother, listen to me! I’ve covered so many UFO and Bigfoot stories that you probably don’t believe me, but trust me on this one, Neil, if you’ve ever trusted me before! Stay away from Valaria, or she’ll seduce and discard you, too!”

I watched without an ounce of resistance as Valaria led me by hand back downstairs and outside after our shower, a thick pink blanket in one hand, the night encroaching across her private beach behind her mansion, the merest glimmer of daylight escaping the edge of the horizon. Hooking her arm through mine, I couldn’t take my eyes off of her, and was completely comfortable with being completely naked outside, as she was. Sand stuck to our feet as she brought me to the edge of the crashing water which snuck up and slithered up the sand, gradually reaching higher and higher onto her beach as the tide made it’s presence known.

Choosing a suitable place, she released me, and flung the blanket across the warm sand, giving us a place to relax upon. I followed her lead, and let her direct me to lie on my back, my former personality trait of being the aggressor in sexual encounters all but evaporated. I enjoyed, no, I yearned to be led by her, told to perform exactly what she wanted me to do, so that I pleased her. I wanted nothing more than to serve this goddess, this alluring songstress, and worship her beauty and combine our very souls as one.

With a few stars peaking out from the dusky sky, shimmering like diamonds around her black hair that hung in long strands across my chest, I looked up at her, completely entranced, forgetful of absolutely everything in my life, other than my absolute, unshakable love for Valaria. Her fingers stroked my chin, my jawline and my ears, her sensuous lips parted slightly as her sparkling green eyes drank in my features as my eyes looked up at her with longing and obedience.

“I wasn’t imagining it when I told you that we were soul mates, Neil,” she cooed above me.

“I understand now,” I sighed, my hands stroking her smooth curving back, playing with her long black hair, still slightly wet from our shared shower.

“Then...you can recall us together in the past?”

“Yes,” I replied, thinking back, and seeing images through eyes that were mine, and yet, not. Of a place I’d never been to before, but still had vivid memories of, and of Valaria—beautiful, seductive, enchanting Valaria, looking much like she did now, but dressed in clothing from another time...another place. “Where were we?”

She smiled with her sensuous lips and cat-eyes again down at me. “Reincarnation is a fact, Neil, and I should know, as I’ve seen the same faces many times over the course of my life. Yours in particular triggered a memory in me, because you and I had been lovers many times! The last time was nearly a hundred years ago in France, but we’ve also been lovers before that in Europe and the Mediterranean. Down through the ages we’ve crossed paths time and again, as we were destined to here and now. You as my mate, and I as your lover and master.”

“I...remember,” I said, recalling suddenly with clarity my previous lives, and in all those years, my undying love and devotion for this woman. “I’m...yours, Valaria,” I said, unable to believe that I would ever utter such words, but they made me happy, made me realize my place in the world—my place in her world. “Valaria,” I sighed, her name like music to my ears, “I love you! I’ll always love you!”

She smiled at me with that same, tigress-like, satisfied smile of hers again, and lowered her full body onto mine, her hands slithering up and down my chest and shoulders, as our lips joined in another kiss, our tongues meeting together for the first time with the knowledge of who was the master and who was the worshipping slave. We explored each other’s bodies with our hands, and each other’s mouths with our tongues, as our sexual tension began to rise and rise, even as the tide rose at our feet. I didn’t care—she loved water, and so did I.

She rubbed her pelvis into mine, maintaining my firm erection as she did so, creating insatiable longing for her within me. I was dying to be inside her, but also subservient enough to wait for her to allow me entry into her promised land. She rose higher, cupping one perfect breast in her hand, massaging it, playing with the firm, erect nipple just inches from my hungry mouth. I licked my lips in anticipation, hypnotized by it’s feminine beauty, until she lowered her form into me. My lips encompassed the circle of flesh, and my tongue tasted her nipple as it partially entered my mouth. I licked it like it was the last thing I’d do in my life, offering her my love and affection through the motions of my licking and sucking. I felt her hand take one of my hands and place it on her other gorgeous bosom, which I was more than willing to caress and massage, cupping it and playing with the the nipple with my thumb. She allowed me to release the one bosom so that I could begin to make love to the other, instinct making me attempt to swallow all of her tit in one gulp, but obviously without success. She sighed from the feel of my hungry mouth and hands on her tits, tilting her head back, making her long hair fall to one side. Her left hand, and then her right hand caressed and ran across my face, drawing invisible lines of desire into me, her long nails making the lightest of contact with my flesh as I embraced my sexual tigress.

Suddenly, she was straddling my chest, pinning my arms into the blanket with her legs, and tilting my head up so that I faced her perfect pussy just inches away. With her ringed finger, she began to play with her sex, rubbing and stroking it, making it wet before my very eyes. I began to breath heavily as I became away of a lovely feminine scent enveloping my senses, her pussy-play eliciting an overwhelming fragrance of lust that created a voracious hunger within me. Finally, she pulled my head in a little closer, and my lips were kissing her vagina, my tongue shoving itself deeply into her soul, eager to taste every drop of moisture that she had brought forth. I felt like I was tasting the nectar of the Gods, having never experienced such rapturous flavours before. I moved my face in any direction I could so that I could orally service her to her satisfaction. She wasn’t rough or dominating as she made me perform cunnilingus on her—she simply helped me hold my face so that it remained buried within her feminine soul, ensuring that I was a slave to her heart. I could hear her moan and sigh with pleasure, feel her hips move and gyrate to ensure that my mouth and tongue performed exactly as she wished, eliciting the highest sexual rush possible from both of us.

As she lowered my head back to the blanket, and adjusted her position so that our sexes were once again aligned, I grinned at her wild-eyed lustful expression, her mouth curled into her own version of a nymphomaniacs smile of lust. Her long fingers dug into my chest and massaged my chest, rubbed my chest hair this way and that, as I maintained eye contact with her, unable to look away from her seductive green eyes.

She reached down between us, and I felt her hand wrap around my erection and pull it upwards, then the world seemed to explode into one of her seductively melodic songs as my cock was slid inside her pussy. I moaned and felt my body work by instinct, pressing upwards into her, even as her own body went into it’s own throes of passion, massaging, tempting, imbuing me with her love. Through the lilting music, I was aware of the crashing waves behind her, a part of me just the merest, slightest bit concerned as the tide rushed in and drove sheets of water against the blanket and my feet. Valaria rocked and thrust herself back and forth, side to side, her hot wet pussy enveloping my dick with her irresistible feminine milkiness, the water of the ocean creeping up little by little until it was dashing against her legs, too. I thought it should be a concern, but something told me that it served to empower her, it was an element of her being that could only heighten and forge our love as one. She was aware of it, I was sure, but she wasn’t frightened of it, so neither was I.

My hands reached up and once again laid themselves across her luscious tits, my fingers splayed across them so that I could experience every soft, sensuous inch of them. Valaria arched her back up and down, over and over, eliciting groans of ecstasy from me as her pussy tightened it’s grasp on my dick again and again, and as her hands held mine tightly against her mesmerizing tits. Thrusting and bouncing against my pelvis, her long hair and blue earrings waved back and forth as I tried to catch my breath while she felt her own orgasm surging and building within her. It was a hundred times better than the feeling of my own hand when I jerked off or any woman in my life, for that matter, and I moaned as I felt my orgasm surging closer, closer, her beautiful blue ring shimmering and sparkling in the night, a third party in our presence that was supernaturally heightening our sexual bonding.

Her lips parted in her lovely, hypnotic song as my enchantress released my hands, and began to wave them gently before me like a belly dancer used her hands to tell her story. I watched, entranced as her body continued to move and sway on top of my cock, while her hands moved and danced in the night before my eyes, her red nails creating a a dance of countless circles and waves, her gleaming ring sparkling like a hundred stars in a hundred places at once. I felt my orgasm nearing by the second, swelling with anticipation as my love for her took hold of and encompassed the entirety of my heart.

Her song danced through me, holding me spellbound and ensnared by it’s beauty, just as my eyes were slaves to her physical beauty and the seductive gestures of her lovely slender hands before me. Her song rose in crescendo and intensity, seemingly echoing in my mind and the entire valley and out to the sea, as waves crashed amongst us, as she bounced with increasing force to drive my orgasm to it’s eventual explosive release. I cried out from my mind-blowing orgasm, thrashing about and pumping her pussy from below her, and seconds later her song transformed into groans and cries of ecstasy from her own orgasm. As one, we moaned and clutched onto one another as one sexual being, calling out to the ocean as wave after wave of trembling, chaotic sexual climax rippled through our bodies...

And still the water got higher and higher, closer and closer...

It was the next day that Jackie James parked her car behind mine at Valaria’s mansion, a look of concern and trepidation on her face. Wondering what she was doing here and if it was even any of her business, she slowly approached the house, looking about for any signs of life, her mind racing with questions as to why my car was still here, even after she’d warned me about the singer.

She tapped on the front door so lightly that anyone standing within ten feet of the entrance would think a mouse wanted in. She knocked a little louder, and eventually was greeted by the butler.

“May I help you?” he asked, checking her out and believing that she was neither a crazy fan nor a sales woman offering lower cable rates.

“Can I see Ms. Valaria? I—I’m a friend of Neil Landon. He was...was he here last night?” she asked, offering an awkward glance back at my car.

“Come in please,” the butler offered, waving her in.. Despite herself, Jackie was impressed by the decor and splendor of the house— something she’d developed from long hours of watching home decorating and house-flipping TV shows alone at home at night. “Come this way, Miss—?”

“James. Jackie James.”

The butler nodded and took her past several rooms until she appeared at the doorway of a sun room, decorated with all manner of plants and flowers, and occupied by two people.

“Ms. Jackie James to see you, Madam.”

Valaria looked up at the same time as I looked up from my task, and stared back at the equally-surprised nerdy magazine writer. She looked at Valaria and I, back and forth, unable to either find her voice or know where to begin, except the obvious.

“Neil?! What—what are you doing here? Still doing here? Di—didn’t you get my phone messages?”

“I’ve been here since yesterday, Jackie, so no, I never got your calls. Something wrong?”

Jackie was speechless and utterly confused, not to mentioned worried, as she felt she’d figured out Valaria’s secret identity as a mythological Siren in present-day America. To say nothing of what she believed was supposed to happen once Valaria made love to a mere mortal. She started with the obvious.

“Um, what are you doing? Since when have you—?” she trailed off, waving a helpless hand between myself and the woman I loved.

I wasn’t sure what she was talking about, until her eyes led me to look down at my own hands. One held Valaria’s right hand, her blue ring sparkling in the morning sun as her recently-painted pink nails did—nails that I was engrossed in painting for my love. My other hand held a nail polish brush, poised over her out-stretched fingers as I endeavored to give her the best manicure that I could offer my mistress.

“What else would the new manager of Valaria do, but see to her every need?” I asked, innocently.

“’New manager’?! What are you talking about, Neil?! You’re a magazine writer, not a—”

“I am now,” I replied simply. “I’ve replaced her previous one, and as such I’ve discarded everything else in my life before I returned into Valaria’s life.”

“Does that include your wife?” she demanded.

“What about her?”

“You’re married, Neil! She’s worried sick about you because you never answered her calls and never came home last night! I made some lame excuse about you being sent out on a surprise European flight, but you’ll have to—”

“Thank you, Jackie, but no more lies will be required. You don’t need to cover for me, anymore. I’ve found my one true love, and I’m at peace with that. I’ve already spoken to my lawyer about divorcing Petra as soon as possible.”

“Neil! You screw a celebrity one night and you think you’ve found your heart’s desire?! Are you insane?! Doesn’t your marriage count for anything?”

I sniffed back at her with a frown and sound tone of disdain. “What does an archaic idea such as ‘marriage’ matter, when I’ve returned to my soul mate? Soul mate trumps marriage every time, Jackie.”

“You! You’ve done something to him!” Jackie accused Valaria, who didn’t seem insulted at all. In fact, she retained her lovely, calm smile in the face of adversity, and gently removed her hand from mine, so I returned the brush to the nail polish bottle, and waited to be told what to do. “I didn’t want to say this, but I know who you are! I know what you are!”

“So does my love,” Valaria replied, a sparkle in her eye as she glanced at me.

“He...he does? You said you didn’t get my phone calls?”

“I told him, and he experienced the ultimate in lovemaking as I sang for him and bound him to me for eternity.”

“No, no, no, no! This is crazy! What are you, some kind of vampire?! You seduce men and take their souls and life forces and discard them! Why are you—”

“Ms.James, let’s talk in another room. Neil, why don’t you go outside to the deck and review my concert bookings and itinerary? I’ll be back after a while.”

“Of course, darling,” I smiled, receiving the reward of a beautiful full kiss from Valaria, as Jackie watched and looked away, blushing and shocked.

Bringing Jackie into an adjoining living room, Valaria lounged back across the plush red couch, draping her arms across the upper frame and crossed her shapely legs, looking up at the nervous reporter with the confidence of someone who was in total control.

“You care about Neil,” Valaria said, “I can respect that. But what he told you is true; he and I are soul mates, and he’s made a choice to remain with me.”

“How could he be said to have made a choice if your song brainwashed him?” Jackie questioned. “I thought Sirens only lured in sailors and made them drown as they tried to swim to their island?”

Valaria smiled, almost reminiscing. “Stories, fables. Times change. New choices and goals are sought. I decided to use my skills as a singer to return to the outside world, but I never expected to meet Neil again. This is not the first time I’ve met him. We’ve been lovers before, and we will be again.”

Jackie pulled out a painting she’d printed off her printer at work and showed it to Valaria. It was from over a hundred years ago, and was very clearly a portrait of her; she was even wearing the same blue ring. Valaria took the paper and smiled as she recalled that day with perfect clarity.

“I remember the artist that painted me that day. Jean Pierrre was a wonderful lover.”

“Is that all you have to say? I find a painting of you that’s hanging in the Louvre in Paris painted a century ago, and you brush it off with memories of an old boyfriend?”

“What would you have me say, Ms.James? A woman needs love, and through her days she’s lucky if she could meet a man that becomes her entire world. Jean Pierre was not one, but Neil is, and has been. We love one another, and nothing you say will change that.”

“I know all about you, Valaria, or whatever your real name is,” Jackie said, stuffing her papers back into her handbag, a tremor of nervousness entering her voice. “Do you realize that you suck the life essence out of men? How can Neil become your manager if he’s going to die of old age in week like the rest?”

“My Siren song has many levels, depending on my needs. I can make a man adore me, enslave him, or take his life. I only do so when I feel a hunger that as a mortal you wouldn’t understand. Unfortunately, I occasionally need a mortal to sustain my longevity and it’s a curse I regret. Unfortunately, it’s nothing I can change, because it’s who and what I am. However, I merely reminded Neil of our soul-bond, and my song will ensure he lives a full, happy life by my side.”

“And you only do this to men? How nice of you to leave women out of your world of mind control!”

Valaria shrugged. “Down through the years I’ve gained a few step-sisters—”

“Hey, I don’t want to know about that! I—I came here to help Neil, and obviously I can’t change your mind, so I think I’ll just leave and see what the authorities think about all this. It might not be much, but with my notes and research, I’ll make them listen. I—I’m a reporter, and if I have to expose you to help Neil, th-then I will!”

“There’s no need for threats, Ms.James,” Valaria offered calmly.. “Come. Sit beside me so we might come to an understanding.”

“No thanks, sister! I’ve got an expose to write! Good-bye!”

Jackie got as far as the door when a song of incomparable beauty entered her mind, a voice of such sweet incomparable melodious tone that she couldn’t help but stop in her tracks, and slowly turn around. To her surprise, the song was coming from Valaria, and was by far the most lovely wordless song she’d ever heard in her life. She took a tentative step forward, and then another, feeling as if Valaria’s song was entering her soul through her ears, embracing it, calming it the closer she got to the songstress with every step. With an outstretched hand, Valaria beckoned Jackie to approach her, which she found was her only wish, to be as close to Valaria so she could hear her beautiful song, to be sung to by this lovely woman.

Valaria continued to sing to Jackie as the reporter sat beside her, and dreamy smile forming across her lips, their eyes never leaving one another’s, even as Valaria gently lowered one side of her negligee until a breast was exposed. Jackie’s eyes fell to it, and stared at the bosom of perfection, even as it seemed to stare at her, beckoning her towards it.. Jackie wasn’t a lesbian, but neither had she been lucky with relationships with men, which meant her love-life was rather sparse. She’d never held any attraction towards women, but suddenly felt as if this was changing, as her heart felt a longing, a desire to feel Valaria’s perky breast against her lips, to feel it’s feminine softness against her mouth.

And still Valaria’s song kept her enraptured.

With her hands caressing the spellbound woman’s cheeks, Jackie’s face was drawn into Valaria’s firm breast, her lips parting as it became the only thing she could see, until her mouth encompassed and kissed the hard nipple, and her nose pressed into the smooth, firm flesh of the Siren’s breast. Instinctively, Jackie began to lick and suck the nipple, doing to Valaria’s tit what she would have wanted a man to do to hers. Her hand reached up and cupped Valaria’s breast, marvelling at it’s feminine perfection, her heart bursting with desire and love for this woman. Her mouth released the breast, but not her hand, as she looked up at Valaria’s perfect mouth, and drew closer, closer. Feeling at peace with the concept of kissing another woman for the first time in her life, Jackie’s lips gradually touched Valaria’s, exploring their silky softness, feeling Valaria’s lipstick come off on her own lips, leaving the seductress’s mark on her, until she edged all the way, covering the Siren’s mouth with her own.

And still Valaria’s song was sung, entering her soul...

Jackie soon found herself in a bedroom upstairs with Valaria, unable to resist the desire to be with her. Valaria removed her glasses and her clothes, and applied her make-up, coloring her lips a sensuous red, and her eyes a deep navy blue shadow, her cheeks a pinkish hue. She adorned the mortal woman with her jewelry to begin the transformation—ancient earrings dangled from her ears that matched a blue ring on her finger, similar to that of Valaria’s.. Jackie’s hair was freed from it’s constricting ponytail, and falling about her shoulders, wild and sexy and free.

A part of Jackie’s mind was aware that she was being turned into a lover of the Siren, but found the concept appealing and felt completely unable to resist. They’d cuddled and kissed some more as Valaria taught her to get in touch with her feminine being, stimulating her pussy to feel sensuous waves of pleasure Jackie had never thought possible, then positioned themselves so that they sat upright, their arms propped up behind themselves, as their slippery, wet pussies made contact as they rubbed and pressed into each other. Jackie moaned as her orgasm began to surge forth from within her, the wetness of her raging pussy a match for Valaria’s, who was groaning as well, as her climax neared.

Valaria began to sing again, prompting Jackie to thrash and rub her vagina even harder into Valaria’s, a glow seemingly encompassing the both of them, joining them in a supernatural way. Jackie’s hair took on a life of it’s own as it became windblown and floated off her shoulders, as if a gust of wind from the ocean carried it beneath invisible air currents. Valaria’s song hit a crescendo and the Siren climaxed into Jackie’s pussy, their juices shared and merging, prompting a similar explosive orgasm to wrack Jackie’s body, her cries and squeals of ecstasy music to Valaria’s ears as Jackie felt a warmth like no other wash over her and inside her. With gasps and moans the two women gradually recovered from their love-making, Jackie realizing that she’d never felt so feminine, so attractive, so sexual in all her life. She looked back at the Siren and smiled, sleepy-eyed, gradually lowered back into a pillow at the head of the bed by the Siren’s gentle hands.

A month later, I found myself in bed with Valaria, the concert in Key West as much a success as our love-making had just been. Moonlight cascaded into our bedroom at her mansion, casting lovely nocturnal shadows across her lithe form as we held each other in an embrace, my cock still retaining some of it’s erection despite an explosive orgasm. We shared gentle, romantic kisses as we slowed our intimacy, catching our breath.

“You were wonderful tonight,” I whispered. “In song...and with me.”

“As you always are, my love,” she smiled, kissing me sweetly.

“My compliments to your opening act. You’ve trained her well.”

“Thank you. I know that Jackie will find her new life rewarding.”

Valaria thought back a month previous, smiling to herself as we drifted off to sleep in each other’s arms..

...Valaria extracted herself from the exhausted woman, and pulled the blankets up to Jackie’s bare chest, and stroked her hair, whispering,

“Sleep well, Jackie...my newly-born step-sister. The genetic transfer was a success, and your body will be fully transformed by tomorrow morning. Sleep now, and tomorrow you’ll begin your new life as one of my kind...as a Siren. You will sing to men and enslave their hearts...until you find your own soul-mate to live your days and nights with as I now do.”