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Anna Stoltz's eyes flew open. It didn't help -- she only saw darkness. She panicked, but not daring to move, flailed around in her mind for any other sensations to latch on to. Her heart hammered against her chest. Her temples throbbed as if maggots were about to hatch from under the skin. She couldn't tell how long it took for the intense pressures to subside, but when they did, the darkness was still there. Using a meditation technique taught by Miss Geist, Anna's mind searched for other points of focus among the physical world. A trickle of sweat started from somewhere behind her ear and cooled off as it traveled to the nape of her neck. Her breath warmed her knees, which were tucked closely against her chest by her arms. She felt the warmth from curling into herself, but she shuddered as the damp material of her silk slip cooled and clung to her back. She was lying on her side on her bed and now was beginning to see the dark contours of her room. She stretched out one timid hand for the sheets she must have kicked off. She grabbed them and dragged them back around her huddled form.

It had been the same dream again. She wondered if it were some side effect from her training. After all, her occult powers had begun to manifest themselves about a year ago, and her actual apprenticeship only began much more recently. Her powers were continually developing in ways she was just learning to understand.

Rewarming herself under the blankets, she released her knees and stretched her legs halfway down. She moved her left hand toward her feet. Starting from her ankle, she gingerly ran her fingertips up along the inside of her leg. She felt the flawed smoothness of her skin until her fingers pushed past the hem of her slip to touch her inner thigh. From there she felt a slick, moist sheen. She paused there, not wanting to continue. Taking a small breath, she finally brought her fingers to rest upon her cotton briefs. She cried out and curled up again into a tight ball of flesh, trapping her hand between her thighs. She could feel her soaked briefs and excess fluid ooze over her hand. Even through the material, her distended mound couldn't help quiver from the pressure of her fingers. In turn, her inner muscles contracted and dilated with almost painful intensity. She had clamped her thighs together in the vain hope of damming the tide of convulsions, but now she couldn't remove her hand.

"Oh God," she whispered frantically, "let it s-stop. Stop. Please, let it stop."

She bit her tongue, trying to stifle her cries. She felt her teeth cut then sink into her tongue and caught the ensuing acrid taste of rust from the blood that bubbled forth. This allowed her to overcome the frenzy of sensations that seemed to erupt from her womb long enough to pull her hand free.

She tried to extract the images that already were draining from her memory. A dream did this? What was it about? There was a mist, and it was humid, and there was breathing. She couldn't see clearly, but the breathing became louder, and she couldn't see clearly. Then she plunged into... something, something deep and humid and dark. Darker than not seeing. From that point she always woke up. And after going through the usual waking ordeal, she felt guilty somehow, ashamed. Perhaps that's why she hadn't told Miss Geist about it, yet. She viciously wiped away tears with the hard palm of her unsoiled hand and lay there awake for the rest of the night.

When the first streams of sunlight came through the gaps in the Venetian blinds, Anna finally gathered enough strength to sit up in bed. Leaning on her right arm, she lifted her other hand up to eye-level. She rubbed her thumb across across her fingers, trying to remove the dry, sticky feeling that they had acquired over night. She felt as if the stickiness had already spread into every pore of her skin to smother her like tar. With a grimace she got off the bed and took tiny steps toward the adjoining bathroom, as if slight movements would minimize any unwanted sensations.

She looked at the mirror above the sink. She first noticed the darkened patch that soiled the lower front of her otherwise shiny, green slip. She turned on the faucet with her right hand and let her left one hover away from any possible contact with her body. She pumped white, almost translucent, liquid soap from a dispenser bottle into her left palm. She shuddered as she foamed it up with her fingers. She then brought both hands under the running water and rubbed her hands vigorously. After she was finished, she pulled the stopper and let the water fill half-way up before turning it off.

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She took a step back and looked at the mirror again. She pushed the thin shoulder strap off her left shoulder, then the one off her right. With her arms crossed, the straps hung limply the sides of her arms and the slip held in place. She stared at her eyes. They seemed to be slightly red around her irises, which appeared black from this distance rather than their normal dark brown. It wasn't pleasant looking at them against the background of her face. Everything was normal except the eyes. The nearly milk-white complexion, the pert, slightly upturned nose, the small mouth, the chin that tapered to a slender curve, all these seemed to scream in outrage against the intrusive eyes. She closed them and felt the rushed caress of silk against her body as the slip fell around her ankles.

Without opening her eyes, she carefully pinched the band of her briefs at her hips and pulled them down. Quickly she stepped out of the puddle of clothes at her feet and opened her eyes. She shuddered and looked down to see her nipples grew taut and the surrounding areolas become speckled with tiny goose bumps. These swollen pink buds also seemed intrusive against the gentle swell of her pale breasts. But it was her mound that drew the greatest attention, the greatest outrage. It was shaven, so she saw the bright pinkness that gave her labia a very raw appearance. At that moment, it seemed the most alien thing; it waited there between her slender, creamy-white legs.

She became aware of how long her gaze had lingered there and snapped her eyes back to the mirror. She smoothed her disheveled hair by running handfuls of straight black strands over her ears and letting the ends fall to the small of her back. She saw the reflection of her clothes on the floor and bent down to pick them up. Carefully avoiding any soiled spots, she picked up her briefs and her slip and dropped them into the sink to let them soak.

Anna turned to her left and opened the shower stall. She turned on the water and waited till the temperature was as hot as she could stand it. She entered the stall and closed the door. She was determined not to leave until the water dissolved every vestige of dry stickiness that seemed to pervade her body.