Flashing blue light and a blasting alarm jarred Violet awake. The light turned red, bathing the bare walls in a hellish glow. Shift change. Two hundred people were waking up, removing their wires, pulling back the sheets. Within seconds, the concrete chamber was echoing with the sound of hundreds of feet clad in traction socks landing upon its floor.

Violet looked at the dimly illuminated screen at the foot of her bed. 'Alyssa J. Waters.' it read, displaying the woman's photo and authorized personal information - which wasn't much. Alyssa's dreams had been more than rough that night, they'd been downright terrifying. At least I'm getting a bonus for that, Violet thought. She double checked the screen before turning it off and removing it, just to make sure a nightmare had been recorded. It had. She was sick of working for a corporate farm like HourZero, but they gave her the benefits she needed, and their client screening process was halfway decent.

“Morning,” Miranda greeted her.

“Morning.”

Violet admired her ass through lilac scrubs on the way to the locker-room. By the time they arrived, it was completely full. Passing through the jungle of tile and stainless steel, it took a long few minutes to reach their lockers, where they clocked out and retrieved their belongings.

“Scrubs?” Violet asked, not wanting to bother dressing.

“Sure.”

Both women struggled out of the churning mass of female bodies, flying metal doors and flickering lights. When they were clear of the noise, Miranda said, “I have some errands to run. I'll catch up with you later.”

“See you at home,” Violet said. They both laughed, as it was rare that either roommate set foot in the apartment.

Violet went about her day. Coffee at the corner, then the library. Studying was an increasing challenge. Her body was awake and well rested, but she rarely got more than one or two hours of good sleep a night, for herself. Her mind was wandering; wondering what kind of a person would have dreams like those she got the night before. Who was Alyssa Waters?

It's not important, she thought. Midterms are important. Finals. Getting into law school. All these thoughts lasted only a few minutes, just like her focus. Violet slammed her books closed and took a deep breath. She knew better than to try harder, and just packed up.

The apartment's heavy security door slammed behind Violet, who was already sprawled across the couch. She put on the news, and listened to the latest epidemics, rioting, storm warnings, stock updates and sports scores. Eventually, she fell softly asleep under its pseudo-melodic drone.

Violet slept poorly. She was as tense and knotted as her body, even in the beginnings of a dream. Frequent lucid dreaming was a common side-effect of sleeper work, and she could never get any rest that way. Allowing her hand to slide down her body, she hoped for a bit of relaxation through pleasure. She turned off the television, and called on the most erotic imagery she'd pulled from the minds of others. A doctor who dreamed of toying with his patients. A congresswoman with her mistress. As the playful thoughts of others danced across the forefront of her vision, Violet's fingers played gently over her panties. Finally, massaging gently, Violet fell asleep.

---

She found herself in the quietest, loneliest place she'd ever known. It was perfect. Freezing, but perfect. The snow stretched on as far as her eyes could see, and glistened in the sun. Trees stood inside the garden walls. They were naked, and colder than she, but steadfast in their elegance. With leaves of icicles, they sparkled and shone like crystal chandeliers, only a thousand times more beautiful. A thick layer of snow rested atop the stone walls surrounding the garden.

Violet stepped onto a frozen pond, barefoot. The ice seemed to trickle up her legs as she moved. As she looked down she saw great fish swimming in the water beneath it, brightly colored, and catching the light, awaiting release.

A great, iron statue stood in the garden. Robed and hooded, he sat with raised arms, and flat palms. Smiling then, she leaped, grabbed hold of his elbow, and took two long strides up his torso to propel herself onto his long forearm, where she walked into his hand. Knowing she could not do so made no difference. Violet knew she was dreaming.

This was her garden, in winter. She sat, first into half lotus, then curled her other leg into full, and gazed out over the snowy mountainscape. She breathed in the frigid atmosphere through her nose. What she exhaled through her mouth steamed, vaporous like a dragon 's breath in the ice air, heated from within.

Now that she could see her surroundings, Violet closed her eyes, and shut it all out. Her breath remained deep and steady, as she listened to the wind travel between the peaks, even as she felt it cut between her clothes and the bareness of her flesh. She could feel her nipples harden at the gentle lick of the frozen breeze. The freezing iron beneath her passed straight through the fabric to her thighs, but she maintained focus.

Violet imagined that the cold slowed down the particles of her thoughts, until they condensed, stopped, froze. Once frozen, a mind can be thawed again, melted. Miranda called it defibrillating her unconscious. Violet stayed there, in steady emptiness until the garden began to disappear, the mountains around her dissolving to make way for the next dream.

At first everything fluttered, then the colors of the world seemed to run, until it blended into one darkness. Whatever she dreamed of next she remembered only as a brief series of images, but, purely the work of her subconscious mind, it was perfect bliss to someone like her.

---

Abruptly, Violet was unwelcomely jarred back to consciousness by her phone. Miranda was calling. She ignored her and tried to get more sleep, but to no avail. When she turned and looked, there was a text that read: Come party! We're at the Vault.

It wasn't a terrible idea. She was well rested and still mentally sapped, but it didn't really appeal. She chose not to respond, and instead went back to the coffee shop. Black, two shots of espresso. She could feel it corroding her teeth and stomach, the way she likes. Violet sat and tried to study a while longer. It was obvious that it wasn't working though . Her mind was as dull and lifeless as the city. She needed to spend some time in someone else's.

This was a bad idea, but she decided to pick up an extra shift. All the students did it, but Violet was becoming dependent on it. The truth of it was, she loved her night job. The train ride back to the farm took almost forty minutes, and dropped Violet in the front lobby of HourZero's corporate headquarters, where she disembarked. She worked at the central sleep farm, which was housed in the sub-basement of the tower .

Not dressed like a typical employee of the above-ground levels of the building, nor anyone who had business there, Violet made her way quickly to the elevators. Once safely into the labyrinth of naked concrete tunnels, she moved more casually. When sleepers pick up a shift, they get to choose their client – it's one of the ways the company encourages its employees to give more of their time.

Violet arrived in the deserted locker-room on floor S-7, changed into clean scrubs, took her hair down and started to put her wires on, as she turned to check the board. The bright display hurt her eyes, in the dim light of the locker-room. There weren't many clients available who could work for Violet. One was Alyssa Waters. She was truly odd. High sex drive, high self worth, very low expressional inhibition threshold, politically active, requests six to nine hours of sleep a day, and she herself only slept when she couldn't find compatible sleepers.

Despite her unusual traits, Alyssa really was the most suitable choice, so Violet grabbed her name off the screen, slid it onto her own pad, carried the small device with her to an empty bed, and plugged it in to the socket. As the bed lit up, she prepared for another few cycles in this woman's dreams. She bit her lip as she lay down, wondering what would happen this time, then plugged herself in. The bed activated with a familiar soft, high-pitched whirr, and momentarily, Violet was falling into darkness.

---

Deep in Alyssa's thoughts, Violet found herself somewhere hot, and humid. The environment was still dark and not yet full formed. As the setting assembled, the dream's tone was intensity rising. A massive ballroom, dazzling with firelight and music surrounded Alyssa. Everyone was masked. The women were gowned beautifully, the men dressed in elegant, formal uniforms.

Torches burned bright and hot along the walls, the heat of the room near blistering with bodies and sweat. A nightingale sang upon the stage, smoky jazz falling smoothly off her lips.

It was then that Violet noticed the nudity of the body she was wearing. Alyssa was completely naked. Well, here's an interesting twist on a classic, Violet thought. It was obviously only a matter of time until she was noticed, but Alyssa didn't seem to care. Brazenly, she stepped through the crowd, looking to each couple dancing.

All eyes were locked on their partners'. Alyssa walked toward the stage, and looked up at the singer. She sang, but Alyssa wasn't really listening to the words. She was looking at the singer's body, remembering her face, but not from where. Violet knew that she sprang from others of Alyssa's dreams, of course, but the woman remained a mystery to Alyssa.

As she sang, the woman's voice ran hot through their veins. Her hands ran over her hips, shoulders dancing with her tongue as she swayed at the knee. Alyssa smiled up at her, and she smiled back from behind her porcelain disguise. Alyssa was noticed. Her body, her nakedness.

The room was hot, the air almost burning. The torches on the wall cast a flickering warm glow on the occupants. The nightingale stepped off the stage, her voice suddenly silent. With the song absent, the room was missing something, and masked figures begin closing in around Alyssa, seemingly in search of it.

Suddenly, the singer seized her and kissed her. A deep, powerful kiss, the kind that knocks a person of their feet, even in a dream. Even the clock stopped in shock. Alyssa's body was dipped low to the ground as their tongues danced, held delicately aloft by the creature above her. When she was finally lifted back, she saw that the everyone had turned on each other, grasping their partners in much the same manner.

Alyssa's new partner trailed fingernails over her naked back, and bit her neck, in exactly the way she likes, in exactly the place she wanted. There was a heat inside of her, burning and throbbing like fiery breath destined to escape. As her nightingale's nails slid over her vulva she gasped, biting her lip not to scream.

Soon, without warning, she was laid down, upon a table. Her body, held still by the moaning throng, jumped and writhed itself. From under her mask the singer's nimble tongue dove into Alyssa's wet folds as she was pinned at wrist and ankle by others receiving similar treatment. One of her restraints screamed out as she was fucked, and kissed Alyssa to silence herself. As this blocked her view, the tongue which had been penetrating her was replaced with something longer, harder.

A man was inside her now, as had not been so for such a long time. He took hold of her hips and thrust, gently at first, but it was not long before he was driving into her with great force. Another came slowly into view. He held a tall candle, and wore only a wicked smile beneath his mask.

Four women held her down as she was pleasured, each of them being pleasured in turn. Two of them teased a nipple while she was raucously fucked. The man with the candle advanced, and Alyssa instinctively seized his flesh, and began stroking him. He groaned in pleasure, howling with delight as she started to suck him. When he'd had enough, he stood again. Clearly the leader of the group, he issued a command in a strange language.

Before she knew it, Alyssa was being rolled over to her stomach, where she was held again. She was felt and manhandled as the candle-bearer climbed atop her and inserted his long, thick hardness into her, slapping her as he went. Another man stood in front of her, perhaps the first to fuck her, perhaps another. He pushed himself toward her face and she willingly accepted him.

Violet looked back toward the man on top of her, and found that he was lighting candles in the hands of all the rest. The heat of the room was building again. She was sweating. She didn't know how much more she could take.

Suddenly, lovely, a splash of wax, fell like searing, sticky rain onto Alyssa's back. She didn't let anything stop her from her work on the men, as everyone became attendant upon her. Licked by flame and tongue alike, each of the women passed their fire delicately over her, while the men allowed the wax of their candles to drip onto her.

Again she was rolled, heat now falling onto her bare stomach. Reacting to each drop, quivering and shivering against the table, she was so close to release. Leaning her head back, Alyssa took the second man into her throat, while the candle-bearer thrust into her completely. Both buried themselves deeply inside her as she shuddered and arched between them, liquid fire running down her sides, and at exactly the moment she thought she might burst, they did so, pouring their own fire into her.

Alyssa's pleasure roared through her, the brightest flame she'd ever felt. Erupting all around, all that could be seen was the supernova of her lust. The entire room turned to scarlet, then amber, then gold. The walls had ignited, the floor... The ceiling was catching, the room was burning. A fiery revel was taking place, and in moments, everything was gone.

---

The blaring alarm again wrenched Violet wide awake, fortunately with enough volume to overpower her scream. That was different, she thought, loudly. Despite the brightness of her consciousness, her head was heavy, her vision blurry – it's hard, interrupting a cycle like that. She had gone down at the wrong time and it was rough coming out of it. Of course there are failsafes in the system to protect the client, only transmitting the sleep once a REM cycle is completed, but the technology can't protect the sleeper.

Violet disconnected and stumbled out of bed, even though it was her shift that was coming on. She checked her pad first for data, then for mail and bulletins. No nightmare? Violet thought, perplexed, She enjoy s that? In a minute though, it started to make sense. Despite the imagery, even she had found a certain pleasure in it, albeit a rather challenging one.

Successful transmission of all four cycles, that's good... Wow. Seventy-nine percent efficiency. It wasn't unheard of, but most sleepers paired with compatible clients manage around forty-five to sixty. It was when she got to her mail that Violet was properly shocked, though. There was a client request, and a note with it. I've never felt so rested. She'd never been requested in her fifteen months working for the company, and Alyssa Waters had asked for her after two shifts. She had made more personal information available to Violet as well.

Scanning the new page of data, Violet discovered Alyssa was thirty-two, single, and bloody intelligent. She had two doctorate degrees and a master's to boot. She was working for a healthcare conglomerate, as a senior 'consultant' of some kind. She had no children, lived alone. Since she didn't sleep, Violet surmised that she she was addicted to her work.

As she turned to connect again, Violet jumped back. Her supervisor had quietly approached, and stood silently beside her bed.

“Go home, Violet.”

“Excuse me?” she asked.

“You're pulling too many extra shifts. You need to get some rest. Take some time off.”

“Come on, Marc. I just got a request. One more shift and I'm out of your hair for a couple of days.”

“A week.”

“How about four days?”

“How about ten?”

“A week sounds fine.”

“I'll bet it does,” Marc said, rolling his eyes under his breath as he walked away from her.

Before plugging in, Violet quickly responded to her message from Alyssa. Will be off work for a week, starting tomorrow. I will be back. She laid down quickly and plugged herself in, waiting impatiently for the rest of B shift to get ready. The shuffling of socks and sheets sent a soft rustle echoing through the chamber until everyone had stopped. A few stragglers were entering, but the lights faded. As Violet ran through possible plans for her week off in her mind, the bed activated, and what was left of the room faded quickly away.

---

The darkness cleared quickly this time, depositing Violet again in Alyssa's body, this time in her bedroom at her parents'. High school, or maybe the first year of college. The walls were perfect, decorated exactly as she remembers. It's funny, how sometimes dreams get everything right, down to the last detail. This was one of those, every poster, every nicknack, every piece of furniture in its proper place.

Arielle was with her, the first girl she'd ever... This was it. This was that moment. Alyssa had known the first go around exactly how it would go, but it hadn't made her any less nervous. The same was true now, but it just added to the anticipation, and the pleasure when she leaned in and kissed the redhead for the second first time.

As Alyssa lay back on the bed, Arielle slowly stretched out over her, with one hand on her breast, and the other sliding under her skirt. Another electrifying kiss. Both of them squirmed against each other, but Alyssa bucked her hips and moaned into Arielle's kiss when she made contact with her moist, sensitive lips, even over the fabric of her underwear. One button at a time, Arielle opened Alyssa's blouse, until the last two, and then she ripped it open, where she discovered no bra. She reached into her empty glass on the nightstand, and retrieved a lingering ice cube.

Mischievously, Arielle's slender fingers placed the cube on Alyssa's thigh, then pushed it up along her belly, over her solar plexus, then in a circle round one of her nipples. Again and again she did this, leaving a growing wet patch on the bed as the cold water trickled over her body. Hard bumps formed on Alyssa's skin as she cried out in pleasure, while Arielle pinched her hardness, and kissed her neck. A stray hand remained on Alyssa's most sensitive parts, tenderly manipulating her toward climax. Arielle smiled mischievously as she retrieved one last cube, and slid it under Alyssa's panties.

Kissing her was not enough to keep her young friend from screaming, but Arielle did her best. Alyssa groaned in delight, arched and kicked at the bed, toes curling and grabbing fistfuls of sheet as she came. Moments later, both girls lay silently together, hoping that nobody heard them, but too spent to dress.

---

Waking once more to the dread siren of the shift alarm, Violet almost cried. Knowing that she was headed home for a week, she didn't know what to do with herself. It wasn't even enough time to reset her clock. Marcus would certainly give her more if she asked, but she wanted one thing right now, and it wasn't time alone. Resigned to herself, she unplugged, and began stripping her head and spine of her wires, while she stood over her pad, checking the data. Ninety-four percent efficiency.

Another note was waiting for her. I'm sorry to hear you'll be out of the office. That last dose was as good as the real thing. I look forward to your return. The note ended with an address, and a phone number. Violet downloaded all the permitted data on Alyssa from her pad to her personal phone before heading for the locker room.

“Hey,” Miranda said, sneaking up alongside.

“Hey. Who'd you get last night?” Violet asked.

“Oh, nobody special. Some stock broker, or insurance guy. I don't remember. How about you?”

“Huh?” Violet said, a little distracted.

“Who'd you get?”

“...Maybe somebody special.”