The Red Collection

by Portia Da Costa

  All went dark.

  ‘Shit!’

  Lois Hillyard jerked upright, her heart lurching with the sudden disorientation of waking up far too fast and not quite knowing where she was. She stared around wildly, her eyes skittering from object to object in the unfamiliar room.

  What the hell am I doing in a log cabin and why is it so bloody cold?

  She scrabbled for the quilt, which was on the floor beside her bed and, as she swaddled it around herself, she started to remember things. Things like why she was here in a log cabin in the wilds of nowhere beside the sea, which she could hear rolling outside instead of traffic noises to which she was more accustomed.

  And things like stray hot fragments of the dream from which she’d just woken.

  ‘Shit,’ she muttered again, burrowing even deeper into the quilt and puffing out her cheeks, still in shock.

  What the hell was all that about?

  She’d had sex dreams before, but never one so vivid, so strange … or so kinky.

  Bondage with an unknown man who had gold in his hair and smelt of lavender … Where had that madness come from?

  Dreams were weird. You usually forgot most of them within moments of waking. But not this one.

  Her Dream Lover sprang into her mind instantaneously, every detail like crystal.

  He’d been tall, muscular, and graceful with the most astonishing hair and eyes. What possessed someone’s subconscious to cook up details like that? Still in her duvet, gripped by the shakes, she tried to analyse him.

  Well, the height might have come from a TV actor she was keen on, and the long black coat and funereal garb in general was de rigueur for vaguely threatening men of mystery.

  But the hair? The eyes? The strangely cool skin? She hadn’t the faintest …

  Face? Well, funny as it seemed, she could pin that. The basic features were her actor again, but there was a touch, just a touch, of the man sharing the beach with her as well.

  But why the hell dream about him though? It wasn’t as if there was any chance, she’d quickly discovered, of getting off with him. No holiday romance there, no way.

  Neighbour Guy, as she called him, seemed to have been going out of his way to avoid her, and when they had run into each other he’d been surly at best. He was worthy of fancying, in a purely physical sense, but, in terms of conversation, he seemed to begrudge every monosyllable.

  Well, sod you, she’d thought, catching sight of him once or twice, stalking the beach or the rough gravelled track to the local shop, but, somehow, she couldn’t help feeling sorry for him too. Somehow, without knowing why, she’d formed a distinct impression that he was a man with a load of sorrow hanging over him. And for that she could almost forgive his chilly grumpiness.

  Yes, her fantasy guy of the gilded hair and other magnificent accoutrements had resembled her unhappy neighbour ever so slightly, but otherwise they couldn’t have been more different.

  Dream Lover had been full of the joys of life. And rambunctiously overflowing with the joys of vigorous pervy sex!

  Her body was still tingling with the aftermath, and between her legs she was humid and sticky.

  Ohmigod, I must have come in my sleep!

  Well, all this sea air and the woodland ambience must be good for something. It had put her in touch with her earth goddess self, or something like that. Being out here in the wild beyonds of unconnected nowhere was going to be a blast if she had a dream like that every night, and with any luck she’d not miss the internet at all. With no television, and a mobile connection that kept dropping out every two minutes, all she had for entertainment otherwise were a couple of uninspiring novels.

  You knew this, didn’t you, Sand!

  Sandy, her friend and partner in their small web-development business, had been moaning at her for long enough to take a well-earned holiday and get away from it all for a while, and had more or less strong-armed her into accepting this offer of a seaside-cabin break from one of their grateful clients.

  Unbeknown to Sandy, Lois had brought her laptop, and had planned to work anyway … until, of course, it had dawned on her that she was miles and miles from the nearest wi-fi hotspot!

  ‘Twit!’

  That would teach her to take the digital, technological world so completely for granted. It served her right for trying to wriggle out of the rest that Sandy had so kindly levered upon her.

  It was still frustrating though. Especially when the weather was unseasonably grim and icy for the end of May and the best place to be was inside the cabin, tucked up with a steaming-hot laptop. But her mobile connection was too erratic and slow and, even if she did work, she had no way to upload anything to the testing server without tearing her hair out waiting for minute after minute after minute.

  Better just concentrate on erotic fantasies then … They seem to be downloading just fine!

  Either that or do some cleaning.

  Why the hell is this stupid place suddenly covered in dust? It wasn’t here earlier … Where is it all coming from?

  The cabin had been impressively spick and span when she’d arrived but now a delicate veil of dust lay over most of the surfaces and drifted across the floor. There were even whorls of dust scattered over the bed and on the pillows, with several strange heaps against the head and the foot rails.

  What the f–?

  She shivered. She sniffed the air. And then tentatively, almost reluctantly, she slipped a hand down into her knickers and touched her wetness. Of which there was a lot. Far more than there ought to have been from simply playing with herself.

  But it wasn’t the quantity that bothered her, it was the way it smelt.

  As she withdrew her fingers, a familiar odour made her head spin.

  Lavender … It was lavender … Why does my crotch smell of lavender?

  Pulling the quilt over her head, she tried hard not to think.

  2

  In human form, Robin crouched on the woodshed roof and tasted the flutters of fear in Lois’s mind.

  No, this was not what he wanted. Not at all. He’d wanted to give her pleasure, not scare the living daylights out of her. Savouring the physical sensations of sighing, he sent out his mind, and touched hers again, filling it with soothing waves of peace that granted sleep.

  There, that was better. Unable to resist the temptation, he disassociated and floated through the roof of the cabin so he could be close to his new object of curiosity.

  Touching down, he reassociated, and stood by the bed, just looking at her. Not that there was much to see with human eyes. She was curled up beneath the thick quilt like a hibernating dormouse, and only a few tufts of her tousled blonde hair were protruding from the top of it.

  There was much to be said for being what he was though. If she woke up now, and emerged from her hiding place, she would see a man … but what she couldn’t perceive were the powers he still retained.

  He could see through the quilt to the pretty face, and even prettier body that lay beneath.

  She was delightful and complex and Robin liked that. Connecting with her gave him everything that was delicious about assuming human form. Every year in the month of May, when the transformation was possible, he tasted and interacted with humans, feasting indulgently on their complicated and sometimes turbulent feelings. His own kind had emotions, true, but they were mild, bland and somewhat basic. Contentment. Satisfaction. A kind of wistful regret, occasionally. The only emotion that really stirred him while discarnate was curiosity. And, in that, he knew he was unusual among his breed.

  And one of the very few to pursue the ancient privileges of merry May.

  But look where it had got him!

  He was addicted now, perhaps polluted somehow. Even while discarnate, he was gripped by powerful yearnings. Feelings had filtered through by osmosis into the whole of his existence and he only felt truly alive when he was ‘human’ … or as near to that condition as he could approximate.

  And tonight, with beautiful Lois,
he’d almost believed for a moment that he was a man.

  Dipping lightly into her mind, he relived the delicious episode, smiling at the way her own subconscious had provided all the elements of the scenario.

  You didn’t realise you were so kinky, did you? he told her sub-vocally, relishing the words he’d picked up from her vocabulary and from others, over the years.

  Binding her to the bed and tormenting her with pleasure had stirred him mightily. And it stiffened his temporary flesh now in a way that made his spirit swirl with emotion and heady pleasure.

  Now this, he thought, placing his large hand over his swelling groin and giving it a gentle squeeze, was something his own kind were really missing. Yes, they had a melding of sorts, and it was exceptionally pleasant, but it was a pale shadow in comparison to the hot, wild, sweaty, pumping chaos of human sex with its pungent fluids, its loss of control and ecstatic release.

  For that alone, with a special woman like Lois, he might be prepared to lose the many powers humans lacked.

  As Lois stirred, probably sensing him, he stepped back from the bed, ready to disassociate and disappear instantaneously. Her head emerged from under the coverlet, and he was struck again by the sweet appeal of her human face.

  It was elegant and oval, but with a soft rounding to the cheeks and a rather snub nose that he knew she sometimes fretted about. He’d modelled his own nose a little on it, to reassure her of the attractiveness of the shape. He’d noted too that, despite her qualms, she’d also found the very same feature subconsciously attractive in the man next door, so he’d taken elements of that face too, when creating the image of his own.

  His thoughts balked for a moment, troubled as the consciousness of Lois’s neighbour briefly touched his own.

  Now there was a human emotion he didn’t want too much of. Grief. Intense sadness. Inconsolable loss. The man in the next cabin had lost a lover, and lost her here, in this place, to the force of the sea. Robin knew what was in the thoughts of Lois’s neighbour and, though he felt he understood them, the course of action that the man was planning was anathema to him. Did he not know how precious a thing the human condition was? Even in its darkest, direst hours …

  Shaking his head as if that might dispel the received sorrow, Robin returned his attention to the warm sleeping woman who lay before him.

  Her hair, he considered, was delightful; the shimmering golden colour of sunlight. He knew, of course, that it had been tampered with to make it look that way, but who was he, an entirely artificial human form, inspired by elements from many sources, to disapprove of a bit of creative enhancement? He’d taken his cue from her in acquiring his own sunlit streaks.

  She was deeply asleep again now, without dreams, but the temptation to intervene once more was vivid. His penis was hard, stiff and aching, although the sensation was deliciously pleasant, despite the discomfort. Her body was smooth and warm beneath her untidy T-shirt and panties, and the odour of her sex teased his senses and reinforced them.

  How delightful it would be to ensorcell her again and plunge his borrowed stiffness into her.

  He experienced a momentary qualm … guilt, he recognised. Guilt at exploiting the slumbering woman, and using her for his own satisfaction – even though he had given her pleasure and her subconscious had gladly welcomed him.

  No, next time they joined – fucked, had sex, made love, as the humans so whimsically called it, even when they didn’t love each other – next time, exquisite Lois would be an active conscious participant. That was a promise he silently made, and swore to keep.

  Yet still his acquired flesh ached and ached.

  Of course, the answer was to disassociate again. No body. No arousal. No physical ache. But he didn’t want to do that. The month of May was precious and there were only a couple of days remaining. He wanted to remain human for as much time as he could.

  Settling into his chair, he unzipped his jeans and drew out his cock.

  How fine and delightful it felt to caress himself. To fuck the beautiful girl curled up on the bed was obviously the ideal satisfaction, but handling himself had its own particular charm. Curling his large fist around himself, he pumped greedily at his penis, working and working it. There was no need to take his time. No need to delay in order to increase his partner’s sensations. He could rush, snatch his release quickly, come fast and hard.

  But, when relief came, her name was noiseless on his lips.

  For a while afterwards, he just sat there, letting his consciousness roam around the room, examining her possessions and her clothing, learning about her.

  Eventually his attention settled on the device set on the rustic table, the one she called her laptop.

  Robin had come to understand what the laptop was, and he applauded it as an excellent mode of communication. Humankind might be sorely limited in the way they interacted with one another, but they were ingenious in creating mechanisms to allow themselves to do the best they could, and this small computer was a prime example of what they could achieve.

  He touched it and, energised by his energy, it sprang to life. Quickly, he rode its patterns of force and deduced the way to mute its operating noises. He didn’t want to wake Lois yet. It would be better to ‘meet’ her for the first time in more acceptable circumstances. Finding an intruder in her bedroom wouldn’t get their relationship off to a very good start!

  As he played with the device, he sifted through thoughts and notions that he’d gleaned from Lois. She was vexed with her little computer, and vexed with herself over it. Out here, far from so-called civilisation, there was no way for her to connect it to the great web of energy lines she called ‘the internet’. It needed something called ‘wi-fi’ to become a part of that matrix.

  Robin smiled. It was simply a node that was required, a nexus that would focus yet another pattern of force. Swooping down, he caught up a big handful of dust and compressed it tightly in his palm.

  A moment later, he looked down at a small gleaming lozenge shape that pulsed softly in the dim light of the cabin.

  His kind weren’t called magical for nothing, he thought wryly, as he attached the little ‘hotspot’ to the underside of the desk, well out of sight.

  A gift, my Lois, he thought fondly. In return for the pleasure you gifted to me.

  With one last longing glance at her, he disassociated and floated away.

  ‘What the fuck?’

  Staring at the screen, Lois forgot the shivering chill of the cabin. She forgot the fact that her feet were blocks of ice and she could only keep marginally warm by wrapping the entire duvet and a couple of extra blankets around her. She even, for the moment, forgot the raving hot erotic dream she’d had, that seemed to have burnt itself into her brain in lurid Technicolor detail.

  She had a wi-fi connection where one was impossible.

  ‘This is mad!’ She refreshed the list again.

  But there it was. She was logged into a connection designated ‘000000’ and the signal strength was excellent and the speed frankly phenomenal!

  Absently rubbing her chilled toes together to increase their circulation, she went through all the settings, and everywhere, where there should have been strings of figures, she got ‘000000’.

  ‘This is mad,’ she repeated, and then clicked on the icon for Google, which brought up the search engine instantaneously.

  The inexplicable connection bugged her, but after a few fruitless minutes of diagnostics, she gave up.

  What the hell, at least the IP address wasn’t 666.666.666.6.

  By the time she’d checked all her favourite pages, and even uploaded a bit of work to her testing server, the sun was high in the sky and its soft yellow rays were cascading in through the windows to warm up the cabin.

  Thank heavens for an oil-fired heating system!

  Lois was grateful for that small mercy as she took a shower in the tiny cubicle. It might be absolute rubbish at warming the rooms of the cabin, but at least it provided plenty of hot
water.

  She needed to be clean after last night. She’d felt icky and sticky and foxy after that dream. Masturbating in her sleep? Nothing wrong with it, really, nothing at all, but still sort of disturbing that she should be so horny, and not actually all that consciously aware of it.

  Touching herself before she stepped beneath the spray, she’d been almost afraid she’d smell the odour of lavender on her fingers, and she’d been relieved – but irrationally disappointed – when all she’d smelt was plain old Lois-smell.

  The bay was bright and blue when she stepped out on to the shared porch connecting the two cabins. Despite its convenience, the phantom wi-fi connection troubled her more than she cared to think about and, contrary to her every usual instinct and inclination, she’d turned off her laptop and decided to get out into the fresh air and do some ‘nature’.

  But why is it so bloody cold?

  Despite the late-May sun, she was glad of her fleece and her boots as she trudged down the short packed-earth track and on to the beach. With just the two holiday cabins sharing it, the tiny bay was deserted. Lois had no idea where her neighbour was. She’d thought she’d heard him tramping about on the porch earlier, but now there was no sign of him. It would have been nice to make friends because, when she had managed to encounter him briefly once or twice, she’d rather fancied him. He was good-looking in a slightly heavyset sort of way. But there was nothing doing. His responses had been barely monosyllabic, and a dark pall of ‘touch me not’ sadness seemed to envelop him.

  ‘Poor bugger,’ Lois observed as she stepped out on to the sand and made for the firmer stuff, closer to the water’s edge, ‘but you can’t be happy if you don’t give anyone a chance to cheer you up, can you?’

  Yes, it would have been nice to forge a little holiday romance with her bay-mate if he’d been amenable, but maybe she didn’t really need one. Not with the hyper-real sex dreams she was having! She was having plenty of erotic kink without any of the effort of the courtship dance. It was perfect. She could be as lazy as she liked, and still get satisfaction. Result!

  Away from the pull of her computer, and the puzzle of the mysterious wi-fi connection, her experience of last night rushed in again to claim her.