Prologue

The first thing she noticed was the silence.

It was dark, and apart from the muted breathing of the people in bed with her, it was utterly silent. She shook her head a moment, trying to remember where she was and what was going on. It all seemed so crazy, like an incredibly complex and surreal dream. She had finished the concert, and then... it seemed like she had gotten an incredible crush on one of the guys backstage, out of nowhere. He told her to sneak out of her hotel room that night and meet him, and she did, completely willingly, eagerly, and he drove her out of the city, a long drive to this... place. And then he... he...

Her mind couldn't quite accept what was next. How could she dream something that was so ugly? He had sex with her then, not romantic, gentle lovemaking like she imagined her first time would be, but in her dream she was in love with him and so it was all okay, everything he did to her was fine, even the things that hurt. In her dream, she only wanted to please him, and so she did every single thing he asked her to do, for a man she hadn't even known the day before, and remembering those things now made her stomach churn and she had to clamp her jaw down to keep from vomiting. She remembered more now, unwillingly seeing her dream-self submit to the other women there, touching them and opening herself to be touched as well, all at this man's suggestion. It must have been a dream, because she recognized the other women; they were Lisa Antoine, the movie actress, and Courtney Collins from the Today show, both touching her and being touched by her, and all of them writhing naked in pleasure over this man she didn't know but somehow loved so much. Why would she dream something like that?

She was still trying to relate this crazy dream to the reality of wherever she was now, and then she inhaled sharply, and that brought the odor and taste that was still on her mouth into the forefront of her mind, the taste of musky body fluids, and it was clear in an instant that all the vile, incomprehensible things she had done were real and not a dream at all. She was still processing this remarkable fact when the screams started, and she was only a little surprised to realize she wasn't the one screaming.

Not just then, anyway.