He slipped into her dreams as a shadowy figure, faceless and strong, taking control, ravishing her, leaving her begging, pleading for more.

During her waking hours, with only a ghostly memory of her dreams, she found herself fantasizing about a dark stranger.  Nothing in her real life seemed to matter or feel as real or as vivid as her imaginary lover.

Every night she was his willing and eager slave.

Every day she was longing for a lover she had never met.

Nighttime was vivid and intense.

Daytime was colorless and pale.

She thought she was slowly going mad, waiting for the faceless stranger whom she already loved, the man who could bring color back into her world.

She longed for night, for the dreams that would bring her lover. She numbly moved through the routine of her day, making meaningless decisions, having empty conversations.

Then, one day, she felt a touch on her shoulder, heard a whisper in her ear, and she knew he had finally come to claim her.

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