textfiles/sex/EROTICA/S/sleeping.txt

Sleeping Beauty
by Nancy Brown
Copyright 1995
 
     He stood outside the door, idly wondering if he were going
mad.  People with both feet (or all eight tentacles, for that
matter) on what passed for the ground did *not* do what he was
contemplating.  Did they?
     He shifted from one foot to the other (no tentacles for him,
although he'd known some very nice people with several) in an
uneasy state of mind.  He wanted to go back to his quarters, crawl
into his bed, and pull the covers up high.  Perhaps he would even
fall asleep after a while, to dream of her.
     Angrily, he pushed the control pad.  That's what this was for,
wasn't it?  To maybe stop the damned dreams from invading his sleep
every night for the rest of his miserable life.  He'd practically
been ordered to create this program, although probably not with
these particular settings.  In fact, were the person who'd made the
almost-order there to see what he was doing, he would probably be
locked up immediately and put under guard by the *direct* order of
his best friend.
     He finished configuring the program, and the computer purred
for a moment, processing.  He thought about the particular irony of
who his best friend was.  Stubborn?  Yes.  Annoying?  To no end. 
Yet, on whom did he call when the dreams were the worst?  Who
listened to him nights without end, offering a shoulder to cry on
or, on the worst nights, some synthetic swill that almost made it
all go away.
     "Program complete.  Enter when ready."  The door slipped open,
and he stepped inside.  Understanding.  That was the other thing
they shared, and perhaps the most powerful.  They understood one
another completely.  They both knew there were words that could
never be spoken between them, tied too closely to names that
neither would speak in the other's presence.  It was easier that
way.  It kept the nightmares where they belonged.
     He found himself in the middle of a forest on Earth, one of
the ancient forests that existed before humans had cut and burned
and killed the great giants of their past, only to replant them a
century later.  Had this been any other program, he would have
chosen a different locale, perhaps an ocean planet or a desert
world.  This program needed the old Earth forest.  He'd taken it
from an old Earth story.  He had no doubts but that his old friend
would want to examine his reasons for the time and placement of his
program.
     He thought back.  How many years had they known each other? 
It seemed like centuries.  For all the new faces that surrounded
them now, it might as well have been.  Of their original group of
friends, only three remained, and the third had little use for
either of them anymore.  Then again, he too had felt the losses
made by time and space and accident.  So really there were only the
two of them, who understood.
     As he walked, he found a glimmering heap abandoned by the
path.  It was a suit of armor, tailored specifically for him.  He
had considered making his search for the armor a part of his quest,
then nixed the idea.  That wasn't the point of this program; it was
merely an interlude before his real objective.
     Hurriedly, he dressed.  He had seen pictures of knights with
armor in various vids.  The one associated with the story had been
a particularly interesting specimen of the genre.  When he'd first
really considered the idea, he'd thought that he would look quite
noble in the outfit.  The vids hadn't mentioned how difficult the
things were to move in, nor how itchy they were.  He should have
realized it, he thought, but by the time he'd been planning this
adventure, rational thought had not been a part of things.  He
shrugged to himself, and was met with a clanging cacophony.  This
was going to be interesting.
     He continued in his path until he came to a fork in the road. 
One sign pointed to his left: "Olde Castle Road."  The other read
"The Cliffs of Despair."  He went towards the right.  He had
searched the story database for a proper means of getting a sword
in a tale such as this.  There had been mention of swords in
stones, swords from lakes, even swords from the hearts of volcanos. 
He had been about to choose the sword in the stone motif, when he
accidentally spied a reference to the swordplay database.  He'd
scanned it, only to find a means of getting his sword that would
involve neither immediate bodily harm nor being the son of royalty. 
If he was correct in his timing, he should even be approaching the
right scene now.
     As he rounded a bend, he heard someone say "I'm not left-
handed, either!"
     Two men were before him, locked in battle.  He crouched in the
shadows, watching in amazement.  The dark-haired one would attack,
only to be brilliantly counter-attacked by the light-haired one in
the mask.  He tried to pick up a little technique while he watched,
knowing he would need it soon, but the fight was quickly over.  The
dark-haired man, disarmed, knelt before the blonde man, asking only
for a quick death.  The blonde man whacked him on the head and
left.  He also left one of the swords behind.
     Coming out from behind the rock, he retrieved the unconscious
man's sword.  He was about to depart, when he turned around and
offered a bow to the man.  "You fought well, good sir.  I hope I
can do as well."  He went back to the path, and headed towards Olde
Castle Road.
     A few minutes past the fork, he saw a huge tree to his right,
three times the diameter of any other tree he'd seen.  He
approached it carefully, then noticed how some of the lumbering
branches seemed to shelter something inside them, hidden from the
casual passersby.  He climbed the tree, his armor making him clumsy
enough to regret putting this in the program.  When he reached an
opening, he looked inside to see three women, two human and one
Bajoran, dozing in a giant feather bed.  By the fireplace, he saw
a large shield of blue and pink.  On it was a note that read "For
Prince Charming."
     He couldn't help the laughter that erupted from him, almost
making him forget why he was here.  Him?  Prince Charming?  Hardly. 
He was by no means the princely type, he was certain, and it had
been a very long time since someone had called him charming.
     This did not prevent him from taking the shield, however.
     Now that the program was in full swing, the changes came
swiftly.  The forest opened to plains, and then to a town.  Already
around him, he could see signs of the decay that had fallen over
the kingdom.  Farmers were standing up in the fields sound asleep
among weeds; children slept fitfully clutching toys that had been
new a hundred years ago; dogs slept with their chains rusted
through.  Of course, this farmer was a lieutenant he used to see
every day before the man was killed on a mission, and that child
was a little girl who had always made a point to smile at him
before she grew up and found less things to smile about, but that
was another story altogether.  The path wound through the town and
out.  On this other side, he saw scorch marks all around him, no
doubt from the dragon that watched over the kingdom, and especially
the castle.  He was going to have to kill the dragon to reach his
goal.
     He held out his sword, sliced through the air with it a few
times for practice, and sheathed it again.  There would be time for
that soon enough.
     A horse.  He'd forgotten to program himself a horse.  He
cursed inwardly, and nearly ordered one from the computer, then
changed his mind.  He'd go it alone.  He'd been going it alone for
most of his life, and now wasn't going to be any different, at
least until he reached the castle.
     A roar shattered the afternoon.  He jumped, looked wildly
around, then realized the beast was still a long way off.  He'd
intentionally made it huge.  Now he wasn't so certain that was a
good idea.  He continued on the path.
     He went over one last rise, and saw the spires of the castle
in the distance.  In front of it stood a woman.  It was the Evil
Fairy.
     He had purposefully avoided making her look anything like
someone he'd known in his life.  To be sure, there were faces he
could have put on her, but none were cold or vicious enough. 
Instead, he'd given her the visage of Time, if Time had been an
Evil Fairy.  He seriously doubted if the parents who'd told their
children this story for the past thousand years had ever had this
particular image in mind.
     She leered at him.  "So you have come at last.  Prepare to
die, Prince Charming."  She spread her arms, shouted a word he'd
never heard, and transformed herself into a gigantic pink dragon.
     "Never!" he shouted, and attacked.
     He was outgunned and outwitted from the first.  The dragon
spit flames at him, which he only barely blocked with his shield. 
She beat her wings against him, and he fell, buffeted by the
powerful winds.  He gasped for air, his lungs searing from the heat
and pressure.  He'd been a fool.  He wasn't a hero.  There was no
way he could defeat such a powerful adversary.  Hadn't he made her
Time itself, and wasn't Time the one thing that conquered everyone
in the end?
     She cackled at him.  "Love conquers all, eh?  Go join your
love in death!"  She raised her head for another blistering attack,
and he saw it.  Her throat was exposed.  Without stopping to think,
he threw his sword at the opening.  Had this been reality, and he
had to admit, the likelihood of finding a real pink dragon was
about nil, the sword would have missed.  However, this was his own
holographic creation, and its path was true.
     The dragon screamed and thrashed around, dying.  Slowly, the
majestic form turned back to that of Time, only now instead of
being a vindictive old woman who'd been neglected on the
invitations list, she was merely a young woman of perhaps twenty. 
She opened her eyes to him and smiled.  "I used to dream that... " 
She gasped and died.
     For a moment, he stood, staring at the all-too familiar form. 
That had definitely not been part of the program.  After a minute,
she vanished back into the program from which she had come.  He was
tired and he ached.  More than ever he wanted to go home.  But, he
had to save a princess first.
     He entered the castle, noticing absently that everyone was
asleep.  Here, the people were more familiar.  He passed the
courtroom, where the King and Queen cuddled quietly on the throne. 
Of course, the couple he had based them on had never been so
demonstrative in public, but he liked it nonetheless.  The Captain
of the Royal Guard stood at half-attention, snoozing on his spear. 
He saluted the slumbering Chief of Security and moved along to the
tower where he knew she would be.
     Feeling new vitality with every step, he bounded up the stairs
to the top and to the little door that was still ajar after all
these years.  He walked inside reverently.
     He first saw the broken spinning-wheel.  He touched it,
stroking the cursed wood, carefully avoiding the needle.
     Then he saw the straw on the floor, some of it glimmering.
     There was a bed in the corner of the room, very simple.  There
was someone sleeping in it.  He approached it, not breathing.  To
see her after all this time!
     He pulled back the covers.
     There was a little wrinkled man asleep in the bed with an "R"
monogrammed on his nightshirt.
     He yelped and jumped back.  Where was the princess?
     Then he remembered.  The King and Queen and the rest had not
fallen immediately asleep.  They had been placed there under a
spell by the three Good Fairies after the discovery of the
princess.  They had probably moved her into her bedroom.
     He climbed down the stairs and went searching.  It only took
him a few minutes to find the room he sought.  Two guards lay
sleeping outside her door.  He stepped over them and turned the
handle.  The door opened.  He stepped inside.
     She lay on her bed, her eyes lightly closed.  She looked so
young.  He'd programmed her image to be as on the day they'd first
met, and the computer had done its job well.  He had seen her
sleeping many times, watched the rise and fall of her breath like
the tides.  He watched her again, as he when they had both been
much younger and had dared to dream of better things.
     She wore a long blue flannel nightgown that primly covered
her.  Her bed was made beneath her; they had not even slipped her
beneath the covers.  Her arms lay to her sides, as if she were
resting for just a moment before she got up again.  He was amazed
to see that there was not a trace of dust on her or the bed.
     It had surprised him to find out how many different races
shared the legend of Love's First Kiss.  In most fairy-tale
databases, there was a large percentage of stories that ended with
the handsome prince kissing the beautiful princess to free her from
some nasty spell placed by the evil witch.  Even the Vulcans had an
equivalent story.  Of course, the one place he had not been able to
locate the motif had been the Klingon database.  Somehow, he would
have been more surprised if he *had* found something.
     He bent over her lovely form to kiss her, then drew back.  She
looked so peaceful, so content.  In this magical holo-place, she
slept, awaiting his first kiss, and she would be alive and warm
when he touched her.  When he turned the program off, could he face
the reality?
     He looked back to her form on the bed.  If he only held her
for a moment, if it was all only a fragile dream, he would take it
and be glad.  He leaned over and placed his lips gently against
hers.  Her lips were sweet and tasted of ripened fruit, and his
memories laughed at him.  Of course they did.  Couldn't he
remember?
     He pulled away to see her eyes flutter open.  "You ... "
     "Yes," he whispered, feeling tears well up inside him.  "It's
me.  I've come to rescue you."
     She smiled.  "I was wondering when you'd get here."  She
yawned and stretched, then sat up.  She glanced around her.  "Where
am I?"
     "Your bedroom, my lady."
     "But my bedroom is on the ship."  Huh?
     "Has my lady forgotten the palace so soon?"
     "Palace?"  She looked perplexed, then lit up.  "We were on
Kalrin 9 at the home of the prefect.  *That* palace?"
     He went pale inside and out.  Kalrin 9?  Please no ...
     He tried not to stutter.  "How does my lady know of the land
of Kalrin?"
     "Don't play games with me.  I know you too well.  Why are you
talking like that?  And for that matter, why are you in that
ridiculous outfit?"
     He *had* been there.  They had been on Kalrin for three days. 
On the first, they had wined and dined at the prefect's home.  On
the second, the two of them had explored the grounds together, and
it had been like old times.  He had been so happy, and she had
seemed so content to be with him and he'd thought they had escaped
time after all.  She'd died that night.  How many years had it
been?  How many times had he looked back on it, wondering?  Now she
was before him again, asking him if they were still there.
     "I'm sorry," he said.  "I thought I would make things more
interesting."
     She smiled again.  "You always make my life interesting."  Her
voice lowered.  "Now how about I make life interesting for you?" 
Her finger traced a path down his armor.  "You look so
uncomfortable in that."  He nodded, unable to speak.  "Then by all
means, let's get you comfortable."
     It had been so easy to put on the armor; he'd made sure of it
before the program, even if he'd forgotten the horse.  Getting out
of it was another matter altogether.  She pulled and tugged while
he slid and shifted, both of them surely making enough noise to
waken everyone else in the castle.  It took them at least ten
minutes, and by the time his armor was gone, they were both gasping
for breath.  Then he caught that familiar gleam in her eyes and he
knew that he needed this program.
     Taking her gently by the shoulders, he kissed her again with
more firmness than before.  He moved her soft lips apart to taste
more fully of her mouth, then slipped his hands behind her.  He
knew, perhaps had known forever, where she enjoyed being touched. 
As he kissed her, he stroked her at the base of her right ear, then
moved his tongue to the tender flesh there.  She gasped and moved
against him, and he touched the base of her jaw with the tips of
his fingers.
     Gently, he pushed her back down to the bed.  Her feet moved
against his, toes playing with toes at the other end of their
increasingly aroused bodies.  He dipped his head down to her neck
and sucked gently, soon rewarded by a tiny cry.  He wanted to go
lower, but the nightgown was in his way.  He reached down to grab
its hem, then bent to kiss her calf where the fabric had moved
aside.  He moved it slowly up her body, kissing her knee, then her
thigh, then her navel.  He paused for a long time at her breasts,
tasting each one as if for the first time.  It had been so long ... 
     Finally, he pulled the nightgown off of her and let it drop
beside the bed as he kissed her full on the lips.  He felt her hand
slide down between them and shivered when her cool flesh grasped
his own.  Seeing his reaction, she smiled devilishly beneath his
kisses while tickling him with just her nails.  A wave of painful
joy spread through him with every light stroke.  He groaned when
she wrapped her hand around it, then pulled away slowly to let her
fingers slide over every inch.
     He was hard, more so than when he thought of her at night and
stroked himself to a joyless orgasm as he whispered her name alone. 
He needed to become one with her, if only for a few minutes.
     He broke their kiss to slide down her body once again,
offering a lingering lick to each nipple, then dipping his tongue
down her belly.  He took hold of the edge of her panties and slowly
moved them down her legs.  To his delight, he realized they were
already damp with longing.  He pulled them down to her ankles,
kissed her instep, then dropped them on the floor beside her
nightgown.  He slid up between her legs, and with a hand that had
once known her better than himself, slid open her soft thighs.
     He left a kiss to her labia, then one at her central nub.  She
cried out his name and he smiled.  He pushed his tongue through to
her warm, wet interior and searched around.  She wiggled and gasped
as he went deeper, now bringing his fingers inside her.  He felt
the early tremors within her with another gush of sweet fluids like
honey on his tongue.
     He pulled away.  She stared up at him, wild-eyed.  She was on
the edge.  She placed her hands against his back and drew him up
and against her.  She moaned as he slid inside her.  Frantically
now, both near orgasm, they moved against one another, trying to
become deeper, closer.  He thrust inside her completely, almost
reaching her back wall.  Their voices mingled in the room, and he
found himself wondering if those in the castle could hear them when
another wave pushed thought away.
     He felt her shudder beneath him and she looked so lovely and
young and she had been dead for twenty years.  He came swiftly,
crying her name into her hair.  Then he collapsed, rolling off of
her enough to let her breathe.  His heart gradually returned to
beating at its accustomed rate.
     Her eyes opened and she smiled.  "I used to dream that we
would grow old together and do this every night."  He thought of
the Evil Fairy Time who'd stolen her away.
     "I did, too."  He stroked her cheek.  "I love you.  I loved
you from the day we met.  I didn't believe that I could, but I
did."
     "I know," she whispered.  "I always knew.  And I loved you
just as much."  She snuggled against him.  "I always will."
     She loved him.  How could he have ever doubted it?  How could
he have possibly have forgotten it?  Maybe it had taken this to
remind him, that whatever he'd lost, he had once loved an angel.
     She shivered again, and he wondered if it were an aftershock. 
Then, she grew less real, and he realized the program was ending.
      "Wait!"  It was too late.  The program was supposed to end
with the two of them dancing and saying the I love you's.
     He found himself alone on a blank grid floor with his clothing
two feet away and a wet spot beside him.  At least the thing had a
self-cleaning program between users.
     He dressed quickly and exited the room.  Outside, he paused at
the control panel.  "Computer, delete program Sleeping Beauty."
     "Program deleted."  He walked down the corridor back towards
his quarters, almost smiling.
 
 
 
     When they met that evening for a chat, the doctor couldn't
help but think that a nice vacation on the holodeck had done Neelix
worlds of good.
 
The End