Archive-name: Fantasy/shiver.txt
Archive-author: Q. Caulfield
Archive-title: Shiver


	Anna Stoltz's eyes flew open.  It didn't help -- she only saw darkness.
 She panicked, but not daring to move, flailed around in her mind for any
other sensations to latch on to.  Her heart hammered against her chest. 
Her temples throbbed as if maggots were about to hatch from under the
skin.  She couldn't tell how long it took for the intense pressures to
subside, but when they did, the darkness was still there.  Using a
meditation technique taught by Miss Geist, Anna's mind searched for other
points of focus among the physical world.  A trickle of sweat started from
somewhere behind her ear and cooled off as it traveled to the nape of her
neck.  Her breath warmed her knees, which were tucked closely against her
chest by her arms.  She felt the warmth from curling into herself, but she
shuddered as the damp material of her silk slip cooled and clung to her
back.  She was lying on her side on her bed and now was beginning to see
the dark contours of her room.  She stretched out one timid hand for the
sheets she must have kicked off.  She grabbed them and dragged them back
around her huddled form.
	It had been the same dream again.  She wondered if it
were some side effect from her training.  After all, her occult powers had
begun to manifest themselves about a year ago, and her actual
apprenticeship only began much more recently.  Her powers were continually
developing in ways she was just learning to understand.
	Rewarming herself under the blankets, she released her knees and
stretched her legs halfway down.  She moved her left hand toward her feet.
Starting from her ankle, she gingerly ran her fingertips up along the
inside of her leg.  She felt the flawed smoothness of her skin until her
fingers pushed past the hem of her slip to touch her inner thigh.  From
there she felt a slick, moist sheen.  She paused there, not wanting to
continue.  Taking a small breath, she finally brought her fingers to rest
upon her cotton briefs.  She cried out and curled up again into a tight
ball of flesh, trapping her hand between her thighs.  She could feel her
soaked briefs and excess fluid ooze over her hand.  Even through the
material, her distended mound couldn't help quiver from the pressure of
her fingers.  In turn, her inner muscles contracted and dilated with
almost painful intensity.  She had clamped her thighs together in the
vain hope of damming the tide of convulsions, but now she couldn't remove
her hand.
	"Oh God," she whispered frantically, "let it s-stop.  Stop. 
Please, let it stop."
	She bit her tongue, trying to stifle her cries.  She felt her teeth
cut then sink into her tongue and caught the ensuing acrid taste of rust from
the blood that bubbled forth.  This allowed her to overcome the
frenzy of sensations that seemed to erupt from her womb long enough to
pull her hand free.
	She tried to extract the images that already were
draining from her memory.  A dream did this?  What was it about?  There
was a mist, and it was humid, and there was breathing.  She couldn't see
clearly, but the breathing became louder, and she couldn't see clearly. 
Then she plunged into... something, something deep and humid and dark. 
Darker than not seeing.  From that point she always woke up.  And after
going through the usual waking ordeal, she felt guilty somehow, ashamed. 
Perhaps that's why she hadn't told Miss Geist about it, yet.  She
viciously wiped away tears with the hard palm of her unsoiled hand and lay 
there awake for the rest of the night.

	When the first streams of sunlight came through the gaps in the
Venetian blinds, Anna finally gathered enough strength to sit up in bed. 
Leaning on her right arm, she lifted her other hand up to eye-level.  She
rubbed her thumb across across her fingers, trying to remove the dry,
sticky feeling that they had acquired over night.  She felt as if the
stickiness had already spread into every pore of her skin to smother her
like tar.  With a grimace she got off the bed and took tiny steps toward
the adjoining bathroom, as if slight movements would minimize any unwanted
sensations.
	She looked at the mirror above the sink.  She first noticed the
darkened patch that soiled the lower front of her otherwise shiny, green
slip.  She turned on the faucet with her right hand and let her left one
hover away from any possible contact with her body.  She pumped white,
almost translucent, liquid soap from a dispenser bottle into her left
palm.  She shuddered as she foamed it up with her fingers.  She then
brought both hands under the running water and rubbed her hands
vigorously.  After she was finished, she pulled the stopper and let the
water fill half-way up before turning it off.
	She took a step back and looked at the mirror again.  She pushed
the thin shoulder strap off her left shoulder, then the one off her right.
 With her arms crossed, the straps hung limply the sides of her arms and
the slip held in place.  She stared at her eyes.  They seemed to be
slightly red around her irises, which appeared black from this distance
rather than their normal dark brown.  It wasn't pleasant looking at them
against the background of her face.  Everything was normal except the
eyes.  The nearly milk-white complexion, the pert, slightly upturned nose,
the small mouth, the chin that tapered to a slender curve, all these
seemed to scream in outrage against the intrusive eyes.  She closed them
and felt the rushed caress of silk against her body as the slip fell around
her ankles.
	Without opening her eyes, she carefully pinched the band of her
briefs at her hips and pulled them down.  Quickly she stepped out of the
puddle of clothes at her feet and opened her eyes.  She shuddered and
looked down to see her
nipples grew taut and the surrounding areolas become speckled with tiny goose
bumps. 
These swollen pink buds also seemed intrusive against the gentle swell of
her pale breasts.  But it was her mound that drew the greatest attention,
the greatest outrage.  It was shaven, so she saw the bright pinkness that
gave her labia a very raw appearance.  At that moment, it seemed the most
alien thing; it waited there between her slender, creamy-white legs.
	She became aware of how long her gaze had lingered there and
snapped her eyes back to the mirror.  She smoothed her disheveled hair by
running handfuls of straight black strands over her ears and letting the
ends fall to the small of her back.  She saw the reflection of her clothes
on the floor and bent down to pick them up.  Carefully avoiding any soiled
spots, she picked up her briefs and her slip and dropped them into the
sink to let them soak.
	Anna turned to her left and opened the shower stall.  She turned
on the water and waited till the temperature was as hot as she could stand
it.  She entered the stall and closed the door.  She was determined not to
leave until the water dissolved every vestige of dry stickiness that
seemed to pervade her body.



Shiver (Part II) coming to a story board near you...
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