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Demimonde

_Chapter One

"Without the veil"_

His visage in the reflection wore sundered dreams, which clung to him like maggots on a back alley corpse. He'd been there too, in those alleys and backstreets. It's practically where he was born. Now he worked here, as an inofficial rent boy at an illegal night club in the slum. The mirror was dirty, but then again, so was he. The bottles on the shelves were all nearly emptied by the drunken patrons, and the obese bartender was sweaty from the exhaustion of keeping up with serving drinks. Outside, the muffled rhytm of techno music from subwoofers in cars passing by. Mechanical mating calls for human targets.

John looked at one of the most disappointing things he knew; his own body. To him; it stood out like a dark patch on a grass field in this place. He wore a black leather vest and black leather pants. Little else. It showed of his muscular abs, and together with his long, and similarly black hair, he looked more or less like a confused heavy metal fan who had found his way to the wrong kind of pub. Still he was considered handsome by most. Men aswell as women. He was used to both, sexually. His heart wasn't in it, but he was still strangely able to satisfy people quite well. Sex had never been a big deal for him. As for love, he felt sure it was just an illusion invented to dull the senses of disconnection that most people seemed to suffer from once they started pondering their life in a rootless existence. At least, that's what it was to him.

That man again, John thought to himself. He had seen the familiar face of an elusive repeat customer at the far end of the club. He always sat at the same table, and tonight he was there again. John looked at him sip his way-too-expensive whisky, an aura of mystique trickling around him. He, too, stood out in this place. But was he a dark or bright patch? John could not decide. He had seen the man many times before, and he seemed interested in John, but he had never spoken with him. He always just sat there, observing. Waiting. In an expensive Armani suit. Or maybe it was Hugo Boss. Hard to tell these days.

Tonight, John finally decided to walk up to the man. Every step he took in the man's direction felt heavier than the previous one, and the smiling face of the potential customer was every bit as exciting as it was exotic. Or is it exotic? Something about this man made John feel familiar rather than estranged. A presence within the presence. John shook his feelings aside and approached the man with renewed vigor, but made a quick turn to the side, walking towards the back doors of the place. The man at the table traced him with his eyes, and as John stopped to nod his head at the back door, the man rose to follow.

Wordlessly, the man followed John through a corridor with flickering lights and water dripping through weighed down, saggy ceiling panels; their dark, stained colors breathing a muted song of despair as the couple walked the narrow path. It had seen much depravity, and so had John. The door opened almost by itself, hinges long since surrendered from repeated opening and shutting.

The room was shoddy, and bathed in crummy light. It was almost as if fat cream had been poured into the luminance of the cheap uplight that borrowed visibility to the unpleasant walls and broken down furniture. John lead the man into the room and was anxious, for the first time in maybe five years. He had sold his body so many times now, it was a mystery to him why this man would affect him like this.

The man sat down on the foot side of the bed. There was an unpleasant squeak as the weight settled in. He looked around the room with a smirk, and then turned his attention to John. Somehow, he didn't seem the least interested in having sex. John still played the game, though. He had seen it all. Insecure people turning to sadistic maniacs. Boring businessmen suddenly swelling with overwhelming desires. He had seen it all. But this one? There was something almost inhuman about him. Not his looks, he certainly looked normal enough, but something about his presence made no sense. It was a puzzle to John. Yet somehow, that looming feeling that he had a strange understanding, a kinship of sorts with this fellow. Perhaps he had lived a tough life too, once? Street kids recognizing each other through the lenses of modern illusions, titles and clothes? Stranger things have happened.

John walked to the desk at the far end of the room, to turn on the low budget cd player. The ancient, miniature loudspeakers collecting dust on the table suddenly came to life, and crackled an upbeat techno song through its dusty filters. The bass section of the loudspeakers were so small that it made the soundscape appear insignicant and hollow, but it made little difference to the atmosphere anyway; it was all run-down as hell. John began to move to the music, dancing his way seductively to the man on the bed. Slowly, he began to make suggestive moves, gradually revealing more skin under his vest.

"What's your pleasure, sir?", John whispered with a suave voice. An act he knew so well, it nearly dripped from his fingertips.

"Why, you of course...", replied the odd man. Classic beauty on his face. He was handsome, all right. A warm, powerful voice. It had a tint of british mysticism about it, too; sounding sort of posh, and it was certainly very rich and alluring. Not entirely unusual with british people in New York, but he sounded so experienced and wise, despite his youthful look. Somehow, he made John feel bashful, unsure of himself.

"You like what you see?"

John started to move slightly more intensely to the accompanying music, and his vest slid off. It landed with a leathery impact, on the floor. He started to massage his own torso, hoping that his muscles had some effect on the man before him. Nothing registered in the eyes. John glanced at the crotch, but the neatly pressed armani pants showed no sign of erection. The man smiled, though. A bizarre smile.

"I would, except so far I haven't seen you"

"What do you mean?"

"This isn't you"

John felt himself stiffening up. He began to suspect that the man was about to preach or something equally dry. This attitude might explain his apparent lack of interest in John. He had to have been a moralist, about to spit his poison.

"Well, you don't know me, do you?"

"Do you?"

"Look, is this about me or is it something else? Are you a cop?"

"I am not a police officer, no."

"So you're just here to judge me, then?"

"Absolutely not."

"So why did you say that this isn't me? You got a problem or something?"

"No. No problems. You need not be hostile towards me. I paid you, didn't I?"

"Oh, it's your kick, eh? Insult games? Just wish you would have told me earlier."

"It's not my kick. I just want to talk with you"

"Talk?"

"Just talk. No sex."

"You're paying me to talk?"

"Yes."

"That's .. unusual."

"You're unusual"

John began to smile. This was an odd fellow, no doubt about it. John pulled up a chair and sat down in front of the man, who looked at him with a predator's eyes. They were piercing, and his face expressionless. It was scary, to be sure. Or at least, it should be. John knew he ought to feel as if it was scary, but suddenly he wasn't so sure that he felt intimidated by his eyes. Instead they appeared almost alluring.

"Why am I unusual?"

"Tell me something, John. Do you feel a deep friendship with your acquaintances in this cheap brothel, officially posing as a lowlife bar? Do you feel like you are close to them? And what about the visitors? The people out there. Do you belong to their kind?"

"How did you know my name?"

"You look like a John", said the stranger with a twisted grin. "How about the question? Do you feel a deep kinship to the kind you treat?"

"What kind? Lowlife?"

"No, humans"

"Humans?!"

"Yes."

"What the fuck are you talking about? Are you high? Of course I feel a.. what did you call it, kinship? Yeah of course I fucking do, I am a god damn human and so are you. Are you tripping, man?"

"You answer the question so lightly, yet you hide insecurity behind that social shield of yours. Small cracks break the dam, you know"

"What?"

"Can I ask you another question?"

"I am not sure.. is this how you wanna spend your cash, man?"

"It is. Here's some more if you need it", said the man. He dug into the pocket of his jacket and his hand returned with loads of cash. The clump of money was put in John's hands and the man leaned back once more. As John counted the money, he understood it was well over one hundred dollars. "I trust you find the sum satisfactory?"

"I.. Yes. It is satisfactory. Ask away. If you don't get violent, I don't mind your insane babbling."

"Glad to hear it. Very well then. What do you dream about?"

"What I ... dream about? You mean.. my future?"

"No. Nighttime. In your sleep. What do you dream about?"

"Well.. that.. sort of varies, you know. Like it does for us all"

"Rubbish"

"What?"

"I call your bluff. I say it's rubbish. At this point, you do not dream like others do. You dream of only one thing. Tell me what it is."

"Excuse me?!?? What the fuck is this, the goddamn Twilight Zone? You don't know crap about what I dream!"

"Not entirely incorrect, but I do know roughly. I just want it confirmed, if you please?"

"I don't believe this shit..."

"I did pay. That leaves my part of the trade fulfilled. Now it's time for you to do your part"

"Fine..", John said and got up from the chair. He walked over to the desk and looked himself in the mirror. There was a slight flicker again, damn annoying. John rubbed his eyes and looked in the mirror again. His image had settled. It was clear once more.

"Trick of the brain?", said the man from the bed and scoffed slightly.

"No.. I don't know. I keep getting eye problems. Never mind."

"It's not an eye problem."

"What?"

"Sometimes when you look at reflections of yourself, you see something strange for a fraction of a second, right?"

"How the fuck did you ... who the fuck are you? Are you government? Some doctor or something keeping track on test subjects, what the fuck is this?"

"Not government. Private sector. Own a media production and distribution company. Back to you. Your dreams?"

"Yeah.. just a bit paranoid about you knowing that eye thing."

"It's not the eye, like I said."

"Whatever.. are you psychic, like one of those medium dudes?"

"Yes. In a sense."

"Ok. Cool, I guess..."

John looked into the mirror again. It looked fine. A crack ran along the glassy surface, splitting his face in half, distorting the right side. Metaphor for this whole situation. He tore himself away from the desk and walked a bit closer to the man on the bed.

The man looked deeply into the eyes of John, and something began to change. It was as if the room was darker, and the only thing that existed in the whole world were those green eyes staring at him. As if in a tunnel, all else faded away, save those green eyes and the voice of the man.

"John, look into my eyes, and tell me what you dream"

John felt light. Like he was nothing, like he was air. He drifted above ground, up into the clouds, circling them skillfully. He was in his dream.

"I dream of flying. Every night since childhood. Even as I lived in the gutters and back streets, I was flying once I was sound asleep. Flying over hills and mountains so beautiful. Like I knew the damn places. Stupid dreams. Wish they could change."

"They can, if you can. How are you flying?"

"I.. what do you mean? I am just flying."

"Through the aid of a mechanical invention?"

"No, just.. flying."

"In your current form?"

John paused for a while, to think. What an odd question it was. Of course he was just flying normally... or was he? No. He wasn't.

"I am ... no.. "

"You feel liberated. You feel free. Not confined to a body that repulses you. Skin that seems too tight, too loose, too saggy. Fragile. You feel like you've broken free from a cell, don't you? As if your bones have grown, and you have slit asunder all the sickness, weakness and unnatural ties you wear every day to fit in with those around you. As if the prison walls have crumbled, and you can roam like a god in the skies once more? As if old memories returned, and life burst anew into your veins?"

John was stunned, and his heart pounded quicker. It was all so real, as if he really was back in his dreams. He could picture it now, the landscapes rushing by beneath him, and saltwater in the wind as he flew closer to the ocean. The smell of the fish in the water.

"John, I can tell that you know what I am talking about. The dream, John, you are connecting to it. Feel it, embrace it. What do you see?"

"I see.. mountains.. in the distance. Water beneath me. I soar in the skies, but now I have decided to fly down, right above the surface of the ocean. I feel salty winds in my face. I smell fish below me, they're in the deep", John said nervously. He felt like in a trance. Hypnotized by the voice of the strange man.

"I want you to look at the surface of the water, John. Tell me what you see"

John flew above the water, but the skies were so bright blue, and the sun was blinding him as it reflected from the liquid fields below him. He flew closer, and noticed how clouds now obscured the sun. The image of himself was getting clearer, it was.. he is huge. Different. His body looked almost alien to him now, as if he had turned into a scaly, giant bird. Or was it a dinosaur? So slender. Beautiful. Tensing his eyes on the reflection, it was clear that his scales were deep blue, shimmering just as magnificently as the waters below. The form... he recognized it from fiction. He could now clearly see that...

"... I am a dragon".

The realization was a load off John's back, it seemed to almost be a liberating thought. But surely, it could be no more than that. A thought. A dream.

"Excellent, now I want you to slip out of the dream and wake up. You will feel relaxed in doing so"

John felt a shudder as the walls of his reality melted away from him, snatched by the confines of darkness. Dim lights of planet Earth signalled him in to its wake, and slowly the room formed around him once more. It was hard to focus, but he could once more see the strange man, sitting on the bed.

"How are you feeling, John?"

"I am .. I am feeling fine, thank you. What just happened?"

"I helped you find your dream and carefully allowed you to enter it. Your orientation skills are quite fine I must say, seems like you had a nice flight. Was this the first time you saw yourself for what you are?"

"It's a fucking dream, get off my back."

"It's more than just a dream, John. Deep down, you know that. Just reflect upon your senses. Your acute sense of smell. Your hearing. Your eyesight..."

"What about my damn senses?"

"Surely you've encountered wonder amongst your so-called friends? Haven't they paled in comparison whenever they convey their observations and perceptions about the surroundings you seemingly experience in greater detail than they do? Don't they strike you as inferior in that regard? And ... another thing; how do they smell? Do they smell like I smell?"

"Well.. I realize my senses seem unusually good compared to most people, but so what? And as for your scent.. No. You do smell differently from anyone I have smelled before..."

".. and I am not wearing cologne"

"No, I can tell. I don't know .. I can't explain it.. nor can I explain how you can know all the stuff you do.. about me. It's weird. You're weird. What's your angle?"

"Your safety and happiness"

"My ´safety´ and ´happiness´? Hang on.. You're some religious nutjob aren't you? And you think you somehow know what I consider happiness? Who the fuck do you think you are?"

"I am not religious and I didn't mean to imply that I know what you think and feel about things. I merely stated my desires; to see you safe and happy. I do admit, I have a predisposition in my mindset regarding the achievement of such vivid goals; namely that you first know who you are and accept yourself for being what you are. And although you may consider it prejudical of me - I doubt you do either".

"So you thought you could just waltz in here and deliver some fucking insight-on-demand? Maybe some hard counsel with 'Almighty You' as a prescription for my inner joy? What is this, some fucking sect you want me to join? You pompous ass! I may be a fucking rent boy, but I have some god damn dignity left, and although it's probably not much, it's the last fucking inch of my soul that I wont part with. Not for the likes of you!"

"You treat me like I am a charlatan or a confidence trickster, out to get your money or something. I have nothing to gain from this. I don't want your money, I don't want you to join a sect, and I am not trying to play sadistic games with you for my pleasure. You needn't waste your breath on proposing such prospects". The man sighed, but didn't really seem to have lost his temper. He did seem burdoned by some form of sadness though. The signals were subtle, but John felt sure he wasn't imagining things. "...but I can tell you are distressed. I will leave my card here with you, and should you desire to talk more with me, you are welcome to my home. You can find the adress on the card. I am at home most nights after 8 pm."

"What? That was an abrupt ending. And... hang on... you want me to come alone to your home in the dead of night? That wouldn't strike you as odd, hearing someone say that to you?"

"No. It is your choice whether or not to show up. Why would you interpret this as a concealed threat? It is an option, not an ultimatum. Maybe I am a psychotic madman trying to lure you into a trap, but I think it would have been an unnecessarily intricate way of going about business, if that would have been the case."

"Perhaps you like the hunt... the game of it. Seen those people too. After all, you *did* come in here and pay me loads of cash to have me hypnotized into believing I am a dragon. What fucking nutcase does that kinda thing?"

The man simply shrugged his shoulders, got up from the bed and walked towards the door. "Nothing is what it seems. Take care, John. And please, I beg you.. think hard about what you've experienced here today. All aspects."

As the man left, John felt himself deflated of all thought and emotion. As if a part of his soul had wandered off with the stranger, he was bereft of will. The radio played another stupid song, and the whole room radiated of a solemn disconnection. Tapestries and walls, distorted frequencies of pop music, stench of dried sweat, cum and various other body fluids from poorly washed bed sheets. It was all he knew, and all he despised. A watered down existance lost at sea, with roaring waves safeguarding places of beauty from his gaze. Could there be a different horizon looming, with the unspoked promises of greater understanding? Could a stranger be the messenger of hope?

John returned to the bar. The stench was unbearable there, as it always was. More evident now, the absence of that familiar illusion of belonging. Like being a wolf amongst lambs. John widened his nostrils and dragged in the imprints from all patrons. They all smelled pungent, and the putrid core of their soul leaked out from their disgusting bodies in all possible kinds of ways; guttural laughter, stories of grandeur, spawned by desperation of being recognized by their would-be peers. Mindless monkeys, primates pounding their chests. Unimpressive, misdirected, spineless, unempathic, blind. John found nothing within any of them, nothing worth keeping.

He looked at the card and was intrigued by its distributor's scent. It was still upon the card. Hard to place why it was so different from the others, the scent of humans. It wasn't entirely different, to be sure. The body of the man seemed human enough, and it smelled fairly human. But something about the scent also indicated that he wasn't human. Not entirely. The card was simple but elegant. It had the logo of a dragon on it, the symbol for the media network "Vovin". Apparently owned by Dan Saer. Odd name. It obviously seemed like the man was obsessed with dragons. Perhaps he believed himself to be one too.

But inevitably, he had made some good points, and John was certainly intrigued by the notion of pretending to be something he isn't. It's an escape, and probably healthier than the drugs and alcohol he normally consumed to achieve the same effect. The hypnosis and the dream, it had all made him feel better. Liberated. It was fantastically relaxing.

--

The night went on, but many conflicting thoughts circulated inside John's mind. Obtaining customers suddenly had less priority, but despite his lack of attempts to persue them, a woman had walked up to him. She didn't look too bad, considering the place. In her fifties, possibly. A bit rugged, but not too shabby. She wore clothes that made her seem desperate to appear young, and the smell of cheap tequila was upon her breath, as she leaned in on John. "I hear you're the best...", she whispered with a hint of exhaustion. The night out had obviously already made her fatigued. It wasn't unusual for John to have customers like this, turning to him at the moment of desperation and their minds bordering on drunken stupor. The verge of fallout.

She followed John to the room. The same old place as before, where he'd spend his time with the strange man. The same old place he spent his nights sleeping over, when the owner allowed him to. The room welcomed their presence by intimidating all senses with its dull atmosphere, devoid of life. John noticed the radio was still on. Fittingly, it played a love song. How ironic.

He was just about to start his default seduction process, but the woman was already upon him, like salt to a sweaty brow. She tore off his leather vest with gusto, and started to grind her face against his chest, slobbering her tongue all over it. John found it amusing, but tried to appear lustful. This would be a pushover. She was barely conscious.

She immediately started to undress herself with neurotic hands, backing slowly towards the bed behind her. "God you're beautiful", she said with a raspy voice. John undressed himself casually, letting the vest and his pants fall to the floor. He was soon nude, and the woman approached the same stage herself, with her pants clumsily curled around her ankles. With some violent kicks, she sent the pants flying across the room. John put on a condom. Black. Ribbed, for her pleasure. As if she could tell, at this state. She beckoned John to come to her as she fell naked upon the bed. On her back, she looked up at John with something akin to a junkie's eyes. "Fuck me, kid", she said. "No foreplay, none of that crap, just fill me with your young cock".

John walked up to her. Through the marvel of self control, he managed to stay fully erect. The human female beneath him was not overly ugly, despite her somewhat saggy abdomen and visibly wrinkled skin around her otherwise fairly decent legs. He entered her with ease, and she moaned; a voice worn down over the years, through the massive aid of whisky and liquor.

His emotional auto-pilot was now engaged. He did the old in-and-out, thrusting her secreting orifice, pumping her with his meat, acting as though it was something he enjoyed. His mind was elsewhere though, up in the clouds.

In fact, he was truly up in the clouds. He was reminded of the dream from before. Flying. As a dragon. What if he could drift off into that dream now? Better yet, what if he could turn into a dragon while fucking? The thought was amusing. Intoxicating. At first the prospect seemed appealing due to its comical nature, but John quickly realized it was the notion of transformation that made him fascinated, and he was unable to divert his attention back to the woman.

The room became enveloped by darkness, once more. Was he drifting again? Could he do it on his own, without the guidance of the stranger's voice? Deliberately, he struggled to dive into the dreamstate while letting his body do its pumping. This woman demanded no particular thrills anyway, so she probably wouldn't mind John continuing his uninspiring missionary pounding. Her cackling sounds of apparent pleasure faded out, and John found himself soaring once more, amongst the clouds. He was still a human though, he hadn't transformed. She was there too, in his mind. He couldn't quite drown her out. At least her voice was muted, and it was a welcome transition from the audible nightmare she had vexed him with before.

He found himself flying higher and higher into the skies, and suddenly he felt his body reshape. He grinned with delight as his colors began to reflect the hues of the ocean below. Skin turning to scales, slowly, shifting their colors into midnight blue. It felt physical. It felt real. John felt tears swelling in his eyes. He felt stronger, his muscles bulged with the change. On his back, the slow protruding of wings broke through his unwanted human skin sack he had felt confined to all his life. As he thrusted, he felt his bulging cock exploding with desire as it grew in size and width. Its shape was transformed, and the consistency changed aswell. It felt as if the condom had burst due to the transformation. He so wanted to see what his penis looked like now, feel what it would feel like in his clawed hand. Oh god! Clawed hand! He could see it now; it had changed too, in shape and form, adapting to fit the needs of a dragon body. So beautiful, and yet... it was his hand now. He was becoming something infinitely more gorgeous than he ever thought he could be. His body changed rapidly as....

"Oh god!!! What's happening!!! What are you??! Demon!!!!"

The voice of the woman pierced his ears, shattered the dream. John was instantly back in the room, and the scent of blood was nauseating. It came from her.

John looked down and saw his hands holding her legs under her knees. The arms had quickly disappearing scales on the surface, the color was gradually turning human. Was it all a trick of the eye? He only vaguely saw these changes in passing, but surely it wasn't real? His penis looked bigger than ever, magnificently dug into her vagina like a train trying to fit into a keyhole. The condom had indeed burst, and blood was all over the sheets from her expanded vaginal walls. It was his member, it had grown, changed. It seemed to be attached to something akin to a sheath, or maybe it was a cavity. No matter what it was, it was part of his body, and it was light blue in color, but the color was now quickly fading back to his normal skin color. Even the previously swollen "sheath" settled, seemingly melting, once more becoming his normal belly skin. It was as though he had begun to change, but was now changing back. Had he begun to change into ... a dragon? No. It couldn't be. He was surely just imagining things. These changes that he thought he had seen after opening his eyes from the day dream, they had all been over in less than a second. It had to have been wishful thinking.

Wishful? Madness.

The woman, struggling and screaming, trying to escape the situation, eventually managed to slip away from John, who was now paralyzed with shock. She grabbed her clothes and headed out into the corridor, rabidly resounding like a siren in war. John could not speak. What had the stranger done to him? Was he rendered insane?

--

At the table, another drink stared back with its liquid iris. John sat alone, and it was long past closing time. The whole club was empty, and the bartender swept the wooden floor with a mop. "You know I seldom get to enjoy your company, Johnny-boy... Now I understand why I haven't missed these moments. You don't talk much, do you?"

"Sorry... I am not in the mood tonight..."

"I can tell. That's the eighth glass of bourbon I see you drink. Aiming for a record?"

"Not really, no. Do you believe in ... the supernatural?"

"What, ghosts and shit?"

"Yeah."

"Naaah.. my mother used to talk about stuff like that at times when I was a boy. Turns out she was overdosing her pills. What, you seen a ghost?"

"Something like that..."

John felt drunk and disillusioned, but had nowhere to go. He knew he would have to sleep sooner or later, but he didn't want to return to the room. The streets outside bathed in midnight rain, and there were no nearby shelters. Dancing on the surface of the table, the card he had received before. Its dance guided and upheld by John's human hands. Human. But how come they felt less real than ... those of a dragon.

John had to find out. He had to find the stranger. With conviction, he swiftly rose from the table. He took a few steps but felt ill. He had stood up too quickly, blood urgently tried to rush to his head, and the alcohol had numbed his legs out of commission. He supported his weight at the table, which nearly turned over. He dropped his pride, but regained his balance.

"You ok, John?"

Nodding as a reply, he went out into the night. Into the darkness. The wet rain drops colored his clothes and his skin with pearly mirrors, reminding him of illusions, reminding him of shame, and reminding him of desperation. He began walking towards the adress he had seen on the card. As the dark wrapped him in its cold blanket, mysteries and questions formed in his head. He felt like a child once more, dreaming of answers shaped after his desires. Could reality be something new, something refreshing? Would he find freedom?

The road was covered by a long, silvery mattrass of water, sparkling with the stars above as though it was random spotlights inside the theater of death. Coldness seemed to almost pry the skin open, causing pain to erupt, robbing the sensations of skin around his muscles and bones. The night was unforgiving, but John ... he was smiling.

--

The mansion was huge. John had once seen movies with structures like these in them, but in real life, he hadn't even been close. The walk here had been long, and morning light began to climb over the hills, causing reality to bathe in an unreal, red hue. Like war tents, the towers of the mansion broke the morning clouds with their menacing presence, and the birds flying madly about made the whole scenery seem even more film-like. John was nervous as he approached the gate, which had a communication pad by its steely fingers. John pressed a button, and it generated an electric crackling sound. Moments passed. Birds chirped their chaotic sermons, incessantly interrupting each other. The peaceful murmur of traffic lay like low frequency bass lines in the distance. Suddenly the crackling commenced once more, this time followed by an electronically scrutinized voice. It was Dan, or whatever his real name was.

"Yes?", the pad crackled and hissed.

"It's John, I .. "

"Ahh, John. Didn't quite expect you at this hour."

"Yeah, I'm ... I'm sorry, didn't know what to do, I was... drinking and.. didn't have any place I would... could..."

"Get inside. It's open now."

John stepped through the gate and paced along the stone path. On both sides, extravagant flowers and trees grew in fantastic patterns. It was a magnificent garden, to be sure. Elaborate in both design and sheer floral mass. Like the garden of Eden. Hard to appreciate the beauty at this point though - his head was killing him. Was he drunk, or was he hungover? Hard to tell. Everything felt surreal.

As he came close to the door, he saw the stranger open it. He wore a black silk morning robe now, and it made John think of Hugh Hefner. The smirk on John's lips came unexpectedly, but hopefully it was subtle enough to not be taken as an insult by the man.

"Welcome John. Step inside", said the man and went in. Even before joining him inside, John could tell this house was like no other he had seen.

Insane. This is how he lives?

Upon entering the house, John was struck with awe. Huge, spiraling stairs leading forever upwards around the enormous entrance hall. Grand statues placed strategically about; it seemed to mostly contain historical figures - warriors, leaders. They all looked stern. Above them, balconies looming in their ascended state, seemingly leaning over floors far above the ground level, with no roof visible. Just a round, giant hole which peered up into infinity. John stepped forward a bit and looked up, towards the heavens. Over the whole complex, he could see a massive glass dome safeguarding the innards of the luxurious home, with trickling, complex light streams travelling down, illuminating all floors. The near-morning light made the strangers face seem more lucid than before, but at least he was smiling warmly as he lead John further into his home. Extravagant paintings, several square feet in size, hung on the blood red walls as they walked towards a room on the far end of the hall. Most of the paintings had mythological motifs.

"I am glad you came here, even though you reek of alcohol. You're beginning to sober up a bit, but I can still tell you are tired. Did this night not treat you well?"

"Did this... heh... you talk funny. But yeah.. well.. no I guess it didn't. I guess I didn't... or .. you! You didn't!"

"Come again?"

"What? Oh. What I mean is, you fucked up my head. You've filled it with strange damn visions and shit, and I can't control it. Suddenly I start seeing claws and shit growing from my hands, people start bleeding, and I can't figure out -- "

"-- Claws? Bleeding?!". He stopped walking and looked at John intensily. It was impossible to determine if his eyes were filled with rage, or just an abundance of gravity. "Tell me what happened, John."

"Oh don't give me that look! You know exactly what's going on, don't you! You pull this crap on people from left to right, enjoying every god damned second of it.... "

"John, what happened?"

John began to settle down a bit, as he noticed the sincerity in the stranger's eyes. "I was with this customer, you know, paying customer. She paid me to fuck her, as you probably understand.. and then I was sort of daydreaming about ... you know, how it would be to, like... fly again. And stuff".

John recollected the event in his mind, it was horribly surreal, the notion that what happened really did transpire. ".. it felt so fucking real. And then suddenly it felt as if I changed, and that felt even *more* real, for some fucked up reason. She started screaming, and then she started bleeding. Well, you know.. she was bleeding.. down there.. cause of my dick. It had grown. Or maybe I was imagining things or shit, I don't know. Did I hurt her? I mean, have you unlocked some kind of psycho gene in me or something?"

The stranger said nothing, at first. He just stood there, looking at John intensily. It was impossible to tell what he was thinking, but it didn't feel as if he was overly joyous.

"John, it is imperative that you do not ever do something like that again, do you hear me?"

"Again?! Look, I hardly expected anything to actually *happen*.. if I would have known, I would *never* .... have... ", John began. Suddenly he froze mid-sentence, as a thought occured. He was lying. He loved that experience, and although he sympathized with the woman, he was sure of one thing; he wanted to transform again. "- actually... I ... "

"I won't forbid you from ever transforming again, John. Just don't ever do it in public spaces. You must not be seen"

"You mean she saw what I saw? It really happened?"

"Has anything in your life felt more real?"

"Well no, but ... I mean, even being high can make you see things, and that feels real.."

"Not in this sense, and you know it. It was entirely different from such experiences. It was something beyond the veil of reality that you've known. Look into your heart, do you truly believe your own convictions? That it wasn't real? Is that a notion you honestly feel you can cling to?"

John barely needed the effort of afterthought. After all, this body of his - this hollow vessel, transporting something divine peering through a myriad of physical peepholes; that wasn't him. The cargo was. But what is it? Who am I?

"No.. I know, deep down, that it was probably... no... it was real. What am I then? I am.. a dragon? Are you also a dragon?"

"Yes."

The look upon his face was deadly serious. John felt heavy. Blood stopped rushing to his head and his vision was invaded by erratic stars and white, sharp noise. He felt cold, pale. I am passing out!

The last thing John saw, as he collapsed onto the floor, was the sudden reaction from the stranger. He leapt forward to grab John in his fall, but it was hard to make out whether or not he made it in time. John believed he registered a sensation of being caught, but only his pulse could be heard, thumping in his ear.

The rest became frighteningly black.

--

John was breathing again. He felt real. He felt powerful. For some reason, he knew he was in his dream again. He really did pass out before, and now he was in the safe confines of the reality inside the dream. Something made him believe he was also in his dragon form again, but he dared not look, out of fear he was also a dragon in his real, physical body. But somehow, he didn't believe that was the case.

Inspecting himself was impossible, as everything around him was pitch black, and he was not illuminated. He could feel himself though, and he was on all four, and he had wings. He felt it, and it felt divine. This was spectacular.

"Feeling good?", a friendly voice said. It was him, the stranger. His voice was ominous here, as though spoken through an amplifier.

"Yes?", John answered, but it was a strange sensation. The throat felt unused to speech, and the wind streams from his belly and lungs tickled his neck from within as it passed, causing unusual friction within. He had never spoken as a dragon before. Dragon! Suddenly an immense, euphoric joy swelled inside. John started to laugh, and it sounded fantastic when his strange, draconic noises boomed in this dream reality. It had a strange flanger character to it. That's what my laughter sounds like? He couldn't help but laughing even more. This was pure ecstacy.

"I am glad you're having a good time", the stranger continued with a warm voice. "You are actually not in your own dream, I took the liberty of inviting you into mine, just to be safe. Here, I have total control, and I am able to allow you exploration without anything... going wrong. I will explain in greater detail, later on... but for now, how about you inspect yourself?"

Erupting like a dance floor in diffuse glow, the area around John lit up. It was like a free floating platform in the middle of nothingness. He saw himself now. His first thought; Blue. It was the most perfect deep blue he had ever seen, and he was totally flabbergasted that it belonged to his own body. His arms, or maybe they were front legs, laid before him, lifting his weight above ground. Long, slender arms they were, muscular and scaled. He had cute little claws on the opposing ends inside his arms, just before the hands. They were like miniature thumbs. The hands themselves, flexible and strong, were clawed. With fascination, he realized he could retract and release his claws at will. Even his 'fingers' were as easy to control as human hands, but they were infinitely stronger.

He decided to try and cross his eyes just to get a good look at his nose, and the long muzzle. It was hard to tell, and he got pretty dizzy from the effort, but it seemed like his face was very long and majestic. Using his tongue, he found he could lick his nostrils. By reflex, they flared up at the touch of rough, wet dragon tongue. It was hard to control the long, agile tongue, but he soon got the hang of it, and used his newfound skill to feel the multitude of sharp teeth in his muzzle. It was impossible to not snicker at this experience. John was still beside himself with joy. This was life. Oh! My body!

John nearly strained his neck when he turned to look at himself with ferocious speed. He noticed what an incredibly strong, and above all, long neck he truly had. The possibilities to look all over his body seemed endless now. He quickly spotted the wings when he turned, and halted to observe them. Their gracious wingspan, as he used his back muscles to expand them like flags on a warship, nearly made John's heart leap out of his chest. As he stood there, in awe of his own body, he suddenly couldn't hold back the tears. He started crying. The emotional turmoil inside him was an erupting volcano, and the purity of his almost childlike feeling of happiness was too much to bear within. He looked from side to side, tracing the incredible outline of his winged canvas. Through the warm mist of tears, his distorted vision was still able to pick up the delicacy of his skin, as it waved slightly in the subtle air streams that gently cruised in the dark void. On the two holds that each wing possessed along the wingbone outline, small claws protruded. Tilting his head upwards, he felt something connect with his neck. It was like a shield expanding from the back of his own skull, like a collar. It provided an excellent opportunity to give himself some neck massage, and he decided to rub for a while as it was very relaxing to do so.

John then continued to look at his body, and where he could see, it was beyond beautiful. Beyond words. Blue scales intermingled with his white, softer ones along his belly. The white ones seemed to run up along his chest and neck aswell. His hind legs were almost impossibly muscular, and moving them caused ripples to form on his perfect thighs and calves.

"I think it's time I presented myself properly, from one fellow dragon to another", the stranger said with a smirk.

Suddenly the world grew, John could feel it. Light found its way from all corners of this dream world, and painted reality with skyline, clouds, a sun. John discovered he was standing on a cliff, overlooking a vast ocean. In many ways, it seemed that this dream reality was conformed to be similar to the ones that John used to have. Before him, John could see a gradually unveiled shadow figure.

"Allow me to introduce myself..."

John felt panic as he could no longer fill his lungs. What he saw took his breath away. Before him, fully illuminated and exposed, stood the most gorgeous creature he had ever seen in his entire, useless life. John felt how his maw was opening widely, his heart raced and the sheer awe of the whole situation dumbstruck him beyond any words.

"My name.. my true name.. is Saerdan".

It was as if the most magnificent dragon that John had ever been able to imagine suddenly had sprung into existence. Never before had John felt this profound attraction to another living being, but now it felt as if all pent up desire he has ever had, was manifesting into a demonic entity about to catapult right out of his body and pounce the studly beast before him.

Saerdan stood confidently on the edge of the cliff, with a proud stance. He was bigger than John in most respects, and also sturdier, with far bigger muscles playing all over his scaled body, glistening almost like a wet orca from the reflections of the sun. He was deep green in color, but there were so many nuances shifting around in the light, almost like magic. It was like staring into a deep forest as the sun was setting. The green colors married similarly deep shades of brown, and although he was quite evidently mostly green, it was as if the scales had multiple layers, reflecting differently depending on the angle. He could probably blend perfectly well with the woods, in fact it was almost as if he was the spirit of the forest itself. The magnificent green luminance danced with the slightest movements of his body.

Saerdan's body did seem to be configured differently from his own, and John had a hard time imagining this dragon to be very versatile in flight, due to him being rather heavy set. His wings were folded neatly, laying along his strong back. Upon further inspection, John noticed that Saerdan was seemingly a tiny bit shorter than himself, but more than made up for it by having a far broader frame. Something akin to armored shields expanded from the shoulders, and his chest appeared to have thicker scales than John's own. Saerdan also appeared to lack a similarly large 'collar', like the one John possessed; but instead, delicate horns adorned the powerfully expanded back of his head, and they framed his face beautifully. The eyes were like burning beacons; intelligent, confident, experienced. John became mesmerized by his gaze, and his form. What a powerhouse! Oh god, I want him inside me..

Suddenly John became aware of a new sensation; arousal. At first, it felt pretty much like it did as a human, but the sensation of swelling came from within his own body. He tried to look inconspicuous as he looked down at his crotch area to find out what was going on. To his surprise, he noticed the surface was slick and plain there - no genitals. Only a slight bulge. This initially confused John greatly, but then he noticed that something began to reveal itself, a remarkable cavity between his legs, that slowly began to open, with the ends puffing up until it looked more or less like the sheath he had seen before, as he transformed in his human shape. Soon enough, he saw his long, wet penis slide out from the crevice. His member was red in color, and the tip was far thinner than the base, which was pushing itself out from within, aswell. The bulge behind the penis expanded, roughly drawing two scaly hills below the thick base of the penis. They had to be the testicles, which were inside him, but still made their presence known to the world as heavy, rounded orbs sinking towards the ground quite visibly at his scaly crotch.

"You smell amazing when you're aroused", said Saerdan as he sniffed the air.

John was startled by the remark, and felt embarrased beyond comprehension. He cringed noticably, and had no idea what to say.

"Ha ha, don't be so worried. It's a good thing that you get used to your body and all its functions. But what made you so excited?"

"Sorry, I ... couldn't help it.. you are just so insanely radiant.. I don't think I've seen anything sexier in my life"

"I am deeply honored. You are a very fine dragon yourself"

Dragon? Me? I can get used to this..

"Care for a flight?", Saerdan said with a grin on his eager face.

"Actually, that sounds wonderful... although I have been flying before, so I am kind of used to it"

"When you dreamed before, you were not self aware. What you have been experiencing up until this point, is what we call the first stage of ascension; aimless cruising in the air, or sometimes on foot, depending on what best accomodates your true nature. There are different kinds of dragons, after all. Now that you are aware, and have begun to attempt transformation, you will find that you have full control over yourself in your dreams; what we call astral sleep. Here, you are not merely dreaming anymore; you are free. In total command of your astral body in a transcended state. The person you are here, is your real self, not in a physical sense, but rather - it is your soul. What we create around us is dream though - it isn't real, like you are."

"So.. you are real too?"

"Yes. In astral sleep, we are free to enter each others dreams, like travellers in an astral plane. Here, we can interact with one another just as if we would be awake in our physical, and sadly human, bodies. We are no more asleep here than when we are awake on Earth."

"But don't we need sleep?"

"We do, but while we remain here, our physical bodies are asleep. In fact, more than just sound asleep; as our souls only have a partial connection with the bodies that carry them, we only sustain our bodies with a minimum of energy. It is therefore hard to wake us up, but luckily we are always well rested when we wake up, as you know."

"Yeah... tell me.. if we are both real here, with our astral bodies, visiting each other and creating stuff around us... can we .. touch each other? And will it.. be real?"

Saerdan smiled. It looked strange to see a dragon smile, but John instinctively knew that it was a smile. A warm one, even. Wordlessly, Saerdan walked towards him. The movements of his hips, his forelegs, the subtle sway of his neck; gracious. John had never before been captivated by someone walking, but this was poetry in motion. Like a dance you can't get enough of. Before long, the mighty dragon towered before him, close enough to touch. John sunk down a bit, showing himself inferior and submissive. Saerdan looked like a pillar of safety, and with a curious deep rumble, he began soothing John with his presence alone. John closed his eyes and listened to the low, growling rumble. It was not a threatening sound, it was kind. Familiar somehow, like a voice from another life; one he hasn't heard for centuries. The rhytmic waves of sound buried itself deep into John's mind, even his body. He was thoroughly affected by it, and slowly he opened his eyes. His head was still held low, bowing before his newfound master. He looked straight into his chest. Saerdan's chest. He felt a need to ask permission, he couldn't just .. touch him. Could he?

"You are bewitching me... Saerdan. I don't know how you do that sound, but it's .. I feel so safe with you. Please.. I beg you.. can I .. can I touch you? Can we touch eath other in this astral world?"

Saerdan kept on producing the enthralling wave lengths, and did not answer. Instead, he crept closer with an inviting calmness. John barely had time to gasp before he found his draconic face inadvertently pressed against Saerdan's warming body. Saerdan placed his head on John's back, right between his shoulders, and his neck lay like a heavy snake on John's head. It was so warm, and strangely soft. John moaned and dove his head as deep into the chest of his master as he could, and it spelled safety beyond all borders, beyond all reason. The rumbling continued, and it made John's sensitive face tremble and stir in its tranquil wake. There was a scent aswell, magnified by the emotional state Saerdan seemed to be in. This was clearly an act of conveying safety, friendship, and the scent that inevitably spread from this wonderful dragon's body became like a drug to John.

"Does this answer your question?"

With tears streaming down his face, John sobbed loudly as he tried to speak.

"No, Saerdan..it does so much more.. it answers everything I have ever wondered, and everything I have ever wanted in life."

With his wings, Saerdan wrapped John in a loving embrace. John felt the rays of the sun dissipating, as he was now sheltered under the protective skin of his dragon god. He felt heavy forelegs clasping around his sides. Holding him. Caressing him.

Saerdan's dragon musk gained increased potency in this confined space, this entropy formed by encasing wings, and John's face now bathed in his lushious, steamy odor, and he was unwilling to withdraw. Instead he sought his way down along the chest line, trying to trace the source of that wonderous substance the scent originated from. He knew it had to be the crotch, but it was so hard to see in this darkness, for he was wrapped in the whole being of his dragon guardian. As he slid down the belly of Saerdan, he could feel the scales becoming gradually softer as he drew nearer to the source of the musk. He used his tongue to lick his master's body along the path, and the taste made him feel almost high with euphoria.

Suddenly he was there. He had reached it, he could feel the bulging landmark on the dragon's body. His tongue found the place on his master's sex; the scaled hill where the tip would be bound to slip out if he stimulated it properly. He maneuvered the end of his tongue into the meaty cavity, and his eyes opened wide as he connected wetly with the organ in there. Saerdan's penis. The taste entered John's soul and provided nectar he knew he could give his life to drink more of. With insane passion he began to kiss the crotch while fishing for the penis to retract and expand from its cave. With his tongue slithered around it, he could feel sizeable veins around its form, but suddenly everything began to shake and move, quickly escaping him. John felt a sudden, airy breeze upon his person, and the contrast made his body feel cold all of a sudden, despite the world illuminating around him. It was Saerdan who had backed away from him.

"No....", Saerdan's voice harshly proclaimed.

The hardest word in the universe to absorb. John knew he should probably feel ashamed, he had performed a severe transgression, a breach in protocol. Unacceptable behaviour. Still, he could not force himself to feel regret. He only felt a deep longing.

"This isn't how I want it done."

"Oh, I am so sorry.. I just.. oh god I couldn't control myself. I beg you, please master. Forgive me. Please.. I will do anything, just... forgive me?"

Saerdan tilted his head in an inquisitive manner, seemingly perplexed at John's reply.

"No need to be so worried. Of course I forgive you. You are juvenile, and for the first time in your life you are getting used to your real body. Even if we are on an astral plane, we still function exactly as we would if our bodies were on Earth, and you are filled with raging hormones, I can tell"

John sighed and sank a bit, still hopelessly aroused and dreaming of more intimacy. Saerdan snickered and looked reassuring.

"I swear to you that I will let you explore your sexuality. Even with me, should you want it. But I want it to happen because of your genuine feelings for me, not just because of whims deriving from chaotic lust."

A rush of joy made John lighten up slightly. "I will do anything you say, Master. And I look forward to learn a lot more about ... everything"

With a smile, Saerdan turned and walked up to the cliff before the chasm. He looked into the horizon as the sun was setting, boiling the rocks and the ocean alike with its red luminance.

"Care for a flight then, before our human bodies wake up?"

John felt his eyes bubbling with emotion, but he afforded a gentle nod before he proudly stood on his own dragon feet. As he walked up to his liberator, he saw him build leverage, leaning down. With tremendous force he made a leap into the air, simultaneously expanding his wings before nimbly ascending into his sublime flight. John rushed forward as fast as his unstable legs could carry him, and with a clumsy effort he managed to jump from the edge of the cliff aswell, parachuting his wings in panic. He felt pockets of air bellow a mighty roar behind him as the air got hold of him, and with a jerk, he found himself slowly gaining control of the wind's flow. He erected himself upwards, and while initially he had fallen vertically down towards the waters beneath, he was now progressively attaining a state where he could at least glide in the air. With some adjustments to his wings and his body, he suddenly felt himself rising. He was in control.

The beat of his wings responded well, and he was in the skies. He wasn't as graceful as Saerdan, but at least he was flying. It was an incredible experience. Ahead of him, he could see his master, his guide. He was clearly doing his best to fly as slowly as he could, in order to allow John to catch up.

"Come on, youngling, we still have many sights ahead of us, and many places to explore!", Saerdan roared farther ahead, his voice attenuating across the oceans.

John smiled, like a boy who had recently found the father he never thought he had, and together they flew into the night, with promises of a bright future whispering softly along the ever perpetuating barrage of turbulent winds...