Loki's Kitten

Chapter 2: Moves and Counter-moves

Your stomach drops. You are suddenly fully alert. You see no one. There is no one. Only you, alone, in the room, surrounded by all the familiar trappings of your everyday life: the towels, the clothes, the open draws. You scan the room, unwilling to believe what you see. There is nothing at all that suggests Loki was ever there. No energy in the room; no aroma in the air; no change in your surroundings.

You drop back onto the bed, and then laugh out loud. Idiot! You were tired, you slept and you dreamed. You shift on the bed, propping yourself up on your own familiar pillows, aware that you still wear the jeans and t-shirt you fell asleep in. You find it hard to believe that none of what you remember actually happened. His hands on your body, his lips on your lips. It seemed so very real. Admittedly, you are sceptical that your imagination was capable of constructing such a detailed narrative. However, the alternative, that Loki, mythical God of Mischief, was in your room, talking to you, admiring you, touching you, is not only completely absurd, but also categorically impossible.

You pull off your clothes and prepare for sleep. You try to relax but your mind is still racing. What an astonishing dream; so tangible, so intense, so erotic! You start to replay sections in your mind remembering his scent, his body, his touch. The recollections are vivid and arousing. You remember the feel of him caressing your skin; his fingers inside you, his tongue pleasuring you. As you reach down, you find yourself very, very wet. This both surprises and perplexes you. Sexy dreams are one thing, but ending up in such a state is quite another. This whole thing seems suddenly exhausting and you sink into your pillows, dropping swiftly into a deep and dreamless sleep.

The next day passes like any other. When you return home, you find yourself mindlessly tiding your room; laundry is sorted, clothes are folded and put away and surfaces are cleared. You are not a diligent housekeeper and this is very unlike you. Why are you doing this? You are desperately pushing from your mind the foolish notion that the whole Loki thing could have actually been real. You won't admit to yourself that there is a corner of your consciousness that desperately hopes Loki might return to you.
When you finish, you are actually quite pleased with yourself. The place is presentable. As you get ready for bed, you cast aside your usual pyjamas and instead choose a black satin slip. You cannot shift from your mind the remote possibility that there was some aspect of reality to your encounter with Loki the previous night. The impossible often has a kind of integrity to it, which the merely improbable lacks. Oh, how you wish the impossible were true!

You try to sleep, but your mind will not settle. You berate yourself for kindling the hope that your visitor might come again. After several hours, you fall into a restless slumber. As you shift in your sleep, you feel a weight on the bed beside you. You open your eyes to see a figure on the bed, watching you. It is Loki. You are dreaming again. Your conscious mind considers for a while the concept of lucid dreams. Given that this is your dream, are you in control? Will Loki do as you ask? Do you really want Loki to do what he is told?

Loki seems relaxed, but almost deliberately postured, with one knee bent and his elbow resting on his knee. As you take in his expression, you perceive a smug look on his face.
"Kitten," he purrs, "did you miss me?"
You find the superior look on his face surprisingly irritating. He sees that you have read his expression correctly and his smile broadens, making him seem even more self-satisfied.

This is an unexpected turn of events, given that this is your dream and you are in charge. It is fully convincing that your subconscious would bring Loki to your bed, dressed as he is, in close-fitting black leather. That he would sit beside you, his hair framing his fine features, fixing you with those mesmerising green eyes. But the smug, self-satisfied smile? No. That is not part of your fantasy.

"Well? Did you?" he repeats, making no movement towards you and seeming to find your confusion amusing. You sense that he is assessing both your body and your mind as he scrutinises every part of you.