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overheard Nevja issue a cool, incomprehensible order to the driver.
    Be careful what you …This was Gillian’s last thought. So careful…

2
    I t was not the intercom Gillian’s eyes saw when she opened them, but the full yellow moon shining down from the black velvet Appalachian sky. She was lying naked on the damp grass, her mind finally clear of the drug that had been inserted into her earlier that night. At least she supposed it was that night. She glanced around and saw no one else in this clearing somewhere in the woods. Trying to rise, she found her wrists were clamped solidly to the earth. Stretching her neck left, then right, she saw that each wrist had been bound with wide metal staples. Arching her legs beneath her, she struggled to push the staples free of the earth, but they had been driven far too deep; her arms were secure.
    â€œOh, God,” she whispered, her heart pumping with terror. Again she arched and with a growl, pressed with all her might against the staples. They did not budge.
    Hot tears came to her eyes. She tossed her head, desperate to forget the rising panic that threatened to sweep away her reasoning altogether.
    Then she felt it: an encroachment in the crisp mountain air, something drawing closer to her vulnerable, bound body. Her eyes darted this way and that, but for a moment she saw nothing except the shrubs against the bordering woods. Still, she heard what seemed like drawn breath. A second later something loomed forward out of the shadows from all directions about her. She saw silhouettes gathering over the untamed grass, figures that strode toward her.
    She gasped and watched as one by one the circle of figures began to glow in their forming solidity, developing features and taking on proportion, depth, character. Men, women, donned in garments of whispery hues, they were smiling, some of them, with the most ethereal quality. They whispered among themselves, the soft sound striking a hammer of terror upon Gillian’s heart. As they drew in on moonbeam-sandaled feet, Gillian felt the last reserve of calm abandon her. She screamed and closed her eyes and pressed against the staples until she felt the metal cut into her flesh.
    At once the hush silenced, and she felt something descend over her. It was weighty, real, and smelled of a raw musk so thick and drugging that it suppressed her terror and replaced it with a mad, ripening lust.
    She opened her eyes and looked into the masculine face of the being that had stooped and unveiled itself over her. He was fearsome, unearthly in his dimensions and the sienna eyes that glowed in the darkness. Even his skin glowed faintly green over lean muscles as smooth as a woman’s, dappled with sweat, replete with the musk that played with her rationality.
    The ends of his long hair tickled her face. Determined not to be seduced again, she tossed her head angrily. “Go away! Go away!”
    The being looked to the other watchers, and his eyes narrowed at one in particular. “Is this not what you wish, Gillian—to know the ecstasy of perpetual desire?”
    Gillian shivered at the voicing of her most private and dearest of fantasies. She followed his eyes and saw the figure of Madame Nevja among the encircling host—glowing and ethereal like the rest of them now, her face bright with assurance.
    â€œSpeak up, Gillian,” Nevja bade.
    The being looked down at her, its great eyes thoughtful as he smoothed her damp cheek with his fingertips. “Is this as you wish, Gillian? Heed not any vow you may have made in haste. Open your heart to me, and know you shall come to no harm by the truth.”
    Gillian trembled under his looming face, yet for all her fear, she imagined his large succulent mouth grazing over her sex.
    â€œI—I—” Her voice faltered as for the first time she felt his naked cock crush against the V of her clenched thighs. It was proportional to the rest of his dimensions, and she