Erotica Harem

Here’s the first part. Carol. Again, they’re only suggestions, so do with them as you will. I hoped I helped a little. I pointed out the “then” and “as” words. You only have one semicolon, so I didn’t comment on those.

This is a unique start too. All of these stories are so fabulous. I love the dream aspect you’ve taken on it. I've have broken this down into three sections because of its length, and I’ll try to get the second part done soon. I have a question, though. Is Gideon Val? If so, the other demigods would be demons then.

Chapter One
Greg Hanson lay in bed. He heard a storm approaching outside, somewhere to the south. At the same time he heard a male voice saying in his head said, I'm here, Greg.

Greg raised his head off the pillow and focused on the return of the strange visitor in his bedroom. The LCD readout displayed 3:10 a.m.

He is He’s (?) visiting a lot. Greg transferred his thoughts as opposed to speaking them, not wanting to awaken his housemate two rooms down. I need to catch some sleep. He rubbed his eyes with the palm of one hand. You're not real, but just a figment of my imagination. So go! Out now!

I'm real and I'm not leaving just yet. I won't stay long tonight, (comma) though.

Okay {bthen, I'll play along for a few minutes. Then you should go. Greg put his head back on the pillow and stared at the ceiling. So, what are you, if you're not a man?

I'm a demigod. A short pause followed. ..when I'm in my earthly body, I look like a man.

Where do you come from? Greg asked in disbelief, wondering why he wasn't scared. After all, (comma) he is a supernatural being.

I'm from far into space and time...a place you do not know about. A haughty laugh left his lips.

[New line] The accompanying air current blew the white, sheer curtains, causing the hem to brush over the bed, tickling Greg's skin. [Keep this here together. I had to reread a couple of times to understand who said this] It all sounds so mystical.

I feel you right now, (comma) desiring me through space and time. You body is aching with desire, lust and need. Plan to have some fun, said the entity. You'll be my slave. Sounds fun for you too, doesn't it?

I have to be attracted to you first. I can hardly do that if you're invisible.

Lightning flashed and cracked, sporadically brightening the dark blue bedroom with its white furniture. Every few seconds, thunder rumbled, vibrating the walls and wedgewood-blue carpeted floors. The aroma of the storm's ozone laced the night air.

You will see and be able to feel me soon. I am part of you, part of your needs, your desires and your dreams.

What in hell do you mean? Greg asked, his body enjoying the touch of the light breeze. He spoke aloud. "Never mind. Don't answer. I suppose I should be scared out of my fuckin' wits, but I'm not. So it's time for me to get some sleep. So get your ass outta here, Gideon. I have to work tomorrow." Greg opened his mouth, (comma) intending to say more, but the words stalled. This someone or something silenced him. Had he used magical powers to quiet him?

Gideon's voice hissed like escaping steam. You'll submit to me as my slave after we meet in the flesh.

A lone laugh escaped Greg's lips. I hate copping a smartass attitude, but what's stopping you from coming now?

Is that coming or cumming, with a "u"?

He's trying to be funny. "Never mind..."

I've never told you my name and title. So, (comma) let me take this time to introduce myself. I am Gideon, a Master, and a Demigod, if you will (the reader knows this from above) from Anhedonia.

"You Gideon, or whoever you say you are, are is not my Master. No one is." He refused to bow to an unreal demigod's whims. He also fought to escape the foggy, twilight state in which the night visitor held him. "I have to get some shut eye, pest." Unfortunately, Gideon's hold (no comma) stayed as strong as a magnetic field.

A slight gust tickled Greg's chest, reminding him of fingers as it swept the sheet over his hair-dappled legs.

Mm, said Gideon. You taste good.

The wind felt like warm breath, tickling his abdomen, causing him distress. I will not let on that he is he’s bothering me sexually, (comma) and will I’ll (?) fight it. His breathing deepened and he felt his own body reacting to the temptation.

A word of warning. Distance yourself from lovers, because you belong to me. I am the perfect lover for you, slave. I'll come back soon so you can serve, slave.

Greg (no comma) rubbed his eyes, (comma) while trying to focus, but was unable to see a tangible person. Instead, he saw a wisp-like (hyphen) form composed by the breeze and unworldly sparkling silver particles.

Impossible.

Never forget, I am your Master--your beginning and end, Gideon hissed.

Troubled, Greg sat up, and rubbed his eyes. (He rubbed his eyes just above) Thunder clapped and the bed shook. "Men and beings don't have sex," Greg he protested aloud.

During the silence that followed, he gazed about the room, considering his conversation with the being. His heart constricted as he looked for him, wondering where he hid. The bedroom quieted; the storm passed, and now raged in the distance. The entity left, thank God.

Relaxing, Greg settled back among the pillows, pulled the sheet up and under his chin and relaxed, though wondering when Gideon would return.

Chapter Two

Several minutes after midnight, one night six weeks later, Gideon came to him again at night amidst another storm. In vain, Greg focused on his transparent facial features and they blurred, moved and dissipated. He couldn't form any conclusions on his appearance except that he was male.

Trapped in a twilight sleep with him, Greg argued with him. I don't belong to anyone and especially not to you!

Before Gideon left, he halted and said, You will serve me sexually.

"Or you’ll do what?" Greg he demanded.

He roared a tempestuous laugh/chortle/chuckle (?) , Don't tempt me to turn you into dust, slave.

Greg found the threat mildly disturbing and depressing. Gideon surely didn't mean his words. Did he like to bicker with Greg? (This doesn’t read like a personal thought)

Then, whoosh (no exclamation) in a puff of vapor, the entity vacated the room, leaving Greg to marvel at his powers. What a weird experience! It's unheard of for a man and a demigod to get together as a couple, Greg he thought as he fluffed his pillow, smelling the scent of fabric softener and the clean night air blowing inside. (inside the room?)

He flopped on his side, (comma) and with a disgruntled sigh he faced the wall and applauded his own fearlessness when dealing with the nocturnal pest who now visited often. Seeing him in person, having real skin and bones, would be intriguing. But could it be done?

* * * *

The next morning, Greg leaned against the refrigerator and ripped the foil top edge off a granola bar. A busy day awaited him. He planned to talk to Vanderhouten Inc.'s biggest client and see if they wanted to make any changes to their proposed television ads for the next six months. If they did, he had to get busy, (comma) and render some mock-ups, (comma) and make an appointment with them to see if they were pleased with his work. While he considered his late afternoon schedule at the ad agency, he gazed at his housemate as she meandered here and there, fluttering around the kitchen like a flighty bird, fixing herself a bite to eat. All the while, she chattered about how long she'd be gone.

His mind strayed and he realized he (?) hadn't listened to a word. Guilt seeped in and he hoped that she didn't question him about what she'd just said. Ivory was pretty, he guessed, having long, (comma) straw blonde hair enhanced with sparkling blue eyes. Tall and thin, she had small breasts and ivory skin...just like her name.

"As soon as I finish the business trip, (comma) I'm going to stop off at the folks and spend the weekend. From there, (comma) I fly to London. I'll be gone for a couple of weeks. I wanted to let you know so you wouldn't worry." She peeled a paper plate from the stack and set it on the counter.

Once the drip coffee maker began sputting sputtering (?) and dribbling the last few drops of aromatic, steamy liquid into the decanter below, Ivory Miles waited reached for the white handle, (comma) while chewing a bit of a Jimmy Dean Egg Muffin.

Greg pulled the wrapper farther down the granola bar, preparing it for a second bite. He watched her (?) watching Ivory stir in a teaspoon of sugar and tip a round plastic container over her mug and amply douse the steaming liquid with dairy creamer.

"Get me a mug out of the cabinet pretty please," Greg said. "I suppose I should eat something to get me through until noon."

"Sure," she said with a full mouth, chewing. (If she’s chewing, her mouth is full, so I don’t this is needed) She turned in place and nabbed the handle of an orange mug with a blue Illini Indian decal on its side and poured him some coffee. She swallowed a mouth full of food. "Creamer?"

"No, black's fine."

If he liked women as lovers, perhaps he'd find Ivory attractive. She was a sweet, pretty and well-meaning woman. He loved her as a friend, because she spoke the truth. Her straw (You used “straw” above) white hair hung two inches or so below her shoulders. He'd never seen her with a man, but figured she was straight.

About her, He could recall the strangest little things about her. One memory stood out more than the others. Once, (comma) after drinking three glasses of wine and a Manhattan , during at an impromptu dinner party among close friends from Chicago, she claimed to the room that she remained celibate and intended to stay that way for several years, perhaps for even a decade, because she had a career to consider and didn't have time to date or even get acquainted. But at times, she found it necessary to visit her old friend, Mr. Vibrator. Greg remembered several people's jaws dropping. Greg had laughed until he thought his sides would split that evening over a year ago.

Thoroughly, Greg throughly understood. He too, felt the same way about getting a permanent, live-in male counterpart. His job played a role in keeping his life celibate.

She glanced his way and dragged him out of his thoughts. "Greg you were talking in your sleep again." she asked, in her usual very efficient tone, then clicked her tongue.

"Did I keep you awake?"

"My my, is all I can say." She brought the mug to her lips, (comma) and blew the steaming brew and peered over the thick rim. Her expressive eyes showed her concern. "The windows steamed up in my room, I do believe," she said drawling her unique mid-Tennesse drawl. "You talked...to this guy named Gideon."

He put a flattened hand on the counter and leaned her way. His gaze dropped to his coffee mug. "Did you hear his voice?"

"No silly," she said as she rinsed her fingers at the sink. "I heard just you. It gave me the shivers."

Greg drew his shoulders up into a shrug, feeling befuddled. "I'll be the first to admit that I've been dreaming some very weird things," he said, mulling over her comment.

"Oh yeah?"

He raised his hand off the countertop and settled back against the refrigerator with his thumbs hooked in his jeans pockets. (The ellipsis here are unnecessary. Greg did not hesitate or pause above) "I just don't know why this is happening, (comma) but sometimes they-er-he seems so real."

"Ve-ery interesting. I love tales of the occult."

"This isn't a tale."

"So tell me more." Ivory put the mug down, (comma) and fished out two pieces of bread then and plunked them into the toaster. Wearing a woman’s black business suit dress, (perhaps give this information to the reader when you are describing Ivory) she approached him. and said, "Excuse me."

"Oh," he saidstartled, then stepped aside. "...sure." I don't want to tell her all of it. Especially about my feelings regarding him.

She opened the white cupboard (?) door, leaned over and whisked the oleomargarine from the top shelf and onto the counter inches in front the toaster, then closed before closing (?) the heavy door with a slight push of her hip. He'd seen her do that maneuver a thousand times, at least.

"Tell me about this Gideon, Greggie," she said, as her slip-ons tap-tap-tapped the white vinyl flooring.

Do I really want to tell her? That wouldn't be wise, Would it be wise, (?) because her questions would only grow in number and become more invasive. (Who would become more invasive?) She'd think I was losing it. This needs to be hidden in my private pool of thought, because it's strange and I don't want people to know what's happening with me in these regards.

"Greg? How come you didn't answer me?"

"Sorry. My mind was a mile off. You want to know about Gideon...okay. He's some guy or...entity that I've managed to dream up. He wants to...take advantage of me...but has never mentioned any particular date. You know...when you're an artist with a creative mind, they say you dream more creatively. He's probably not real." Well, I did it. I told her more than I wanted to.

"Hmmmm..." The toast popped up, grabbing their attention. She snatched the hot, brown squares from the two slots, then and glanced his way, displaying her curiosity. "Want one of these?"

"No thanks." Will she drop her line of questioning, hopefully? Damn, I wish she’d just drop this line of questioning. (?)

A lone laugh left her lips.

"Why'd you laugh?"

"You held a conversation with him and he wants you. Maybe he isn't real. Maybe this is nature's way of telling you that you need to get some nookie. Honey, don't clam up now. Tell Ivory the rest of it."

That's Ivory--always straightforward (one word) with a knack for getting to the point…especially (?) and to the point in matters of the heart...and especially in sexual encounters. Curiosity swept over him. Just bringing it out in the open and discussing it uncovers the bizarreness of the dreams. Deep in thought, he turned away, tossed the foil wrapper into the garbage can and washed the stickiness from his hands. The dreams are not aren’t right. (period) They shouldn't be happening, (comma) but I'm so utterly drawn into them (?) that I can't help myself from wondering.

While drying his hands on a paper towel, Greg glimpsed Ivory's fine features. (period) He then focused on her wide set grey-blue eyes and thought about the previous night's experience. "Yeah, it really was super-weird." He sighed and rolled his eyes. "I just don't know. It's like this otherworldly guy has a thing for me." He drew his shoulders up into a shrug. "That's He's picked me for some reason, (comma) and is he’s (?) going to make me his slave. He said he'll be going against someone or something called the Powers that Be to come and be with me."

She blinked and quit chewing. "Whoa. Heavy. A wet dream you say? Is that right?" Her eyebrows rose, (comma) giving her overall expression a snarky (?) look. "I can tell that he, whoever he is, really has your attention." After a long paused, she swallowed. Her eyes dropped to his white polo shirt. As though she wanted to change the subject she asked, "I like that. Is it new?" she asked, clearly wanting to change the subject. (?)

I've probably said too much." (more space) Yeah. Thanks. Well, I've got to go. I'm busy today." [Stays together] Gregs He grinned, left the kitchen and crossed the soft carpeting to get his briefcase, laptop case and to slip on a light jacket. It was seven a.m. and time to begin his week day commute to Milwaukee Avenue. Before he left through the opened front door he saw Ivory emerge from the kitchen and said, "It was just a dream. Everyone has them, you know."

"Maybe you're not getting enough of the right foods to eat, Greg honey," she said in an amused tone.

Typical female response. (moe space) "Ivory, for God’s sake, this is not caused by improper eating." [keep together] That's all I need--a mother for a housemate...a second mother, but I love her like a sister. (?) good friend. Besides, I thought I escaped my mother when I left Cincinnati a year ago and ended up in Chicago.

Five in the afternoon, after he arrived home from the art studio At around five that afternoon, he arrived home from the art studio (Wait, isn’t he an ad man? Would “office” be more appropriate? I had to stop and think if he was an artist.) He sat on the soft blue velvet couch in the parlor, opened his laptop and began reading an his emails. (?) email. The afternoon sun blasted through the west window, some ten feet away. The weatherman on Channel Three said storms were expected to roll through Chicago that evening.

Greg occupied the house alone that evening. Ivory (no comma) was off on one of her many business trips for Aaron and Wisely, Inc. She bought clothing lines for the chain store. She and wouldn't return until the following week.

The phone rang a little before eight, causing Greg to answer before the third ring. Caller I.D. on the handset showed his mother's home number, (comma) giving him his weekly jingle. A frustrated sigh left his lips. I love you mom too, but she you can be such a pain in the ass.

Perhaps it was a hunch or even E.S.P., but it occurred to Greg him that it may be Gideon. "Hello?" he asked with caution.

A voice hissed from a distant place. "Hello."

"It is isn't it?" Silence took over the line. Surely, (comma) it wasn't him! On the phone? I thought he just came in dreams. Now he's escalated his contacts with me to appearing when I am awake.

"Gideon?" insisted Greg, his heart thudding with fear.

"I'll see you soon."

The line deadened.

Chapter Two

Sitting with his cohorts in the Paradise of Anhedonia, a section of the stratosphere below heaven in a place of dream segments, a group of Night Masters joined Gideon in a discussion of their plans for the upcoming weekend. They leaned back on colorful cushions below a raised dance platform where scantily clad performers danced. The group had just dined on a seven-course meal of scallops, rice and wine. while the Women in wispy dresses belly danced around a naked male who had a multi-jeweled and gold rigns attached through the tip of his cock and nipples.

Gideon handed his plate to a server and grasped a water goblet, and said, (comma) "Gentlemen, I've not had a good piece of ass in a very long time." He raised the glass to his lips and took a thoughtful sip, (comma) wondering, should I reveal his my nocturnal quest with the human? Upon lowering the stemware, he peered down into the deep purple liquid and said, "I'm afraid the sexy ones are all down below on earth."

"Don't even think about it," said Herman. *chuckles* Herman just doesn’t sound like a demi-God’s name, Carol.

"My friends, (comma) you may call me a sexual deviant, but I can think of one slave in particular I'd like to have naked (no comma) on my rack, (comma) and at my mercy."

"I know you and what you're thinking. Don't do it, Gideon," warned Maxmillian, rumpling his bushy brows and frowning. "It's not right, mixing with humans..."
{extra line needed to separate paragraphs)
"I've been scanning men's faces down there again--the ones in the twenty to thirty year-old age bracket. Oh yesssss. There is one that has much promise."
{extra line between paragraphs)
Grenius, to his right, Sitting on his right, Grenius turned and gazed Gideon's way. He drew a finger under his own nose. "So what is he like?" A nasty look twisted on his face. "Or should I say victim?" Grenius asked, then bellowed with laughter and silenced to hear the answer.

I do not care what my group peers (?) thinks. They would be jealous if they knew my plans.

"Gentlemen, I've got everything I want and need, with riches, power and toys galore here in Anhedonia. Millions in gold and jewels. I have power. (repetitious) I can go anywhere in the universe and have anyone sexually I want. Actually, I don't need anything." He remembered the exception. "But..except...well,...there's one thing, (comma) or rather s man (no comma) I want badly and can't have."

"To hell with riches. There's no stores here," another demigod piped up. "That aside, what are you saying? You lack something?"

"I don't have a flesh and blood lover. It's immoral how he affects me and I know it would feel so good...." X-rated fantasy flashed through his mind of / about Greg. (?) that included Greg.

"I've heard of everything now," said Grenius. His tone had a way of pooh-poohing Gideon's remark that aggravated him Gideon to no end.

"Tell us about it, Gideon," said Gerald excitedly, as he grasped the dark whiskers dappling his chin. "Don't hold anything back." He was a short, white-haired and chubby demigod. When he talked, his jowls wobbled, reminding Gideon of a cartoon type of duck or pig.

Gideon rolled his eyes at the shiny marble statue of a Greek warrior that stood nearby, paying it little heed. (?) without paying it any mind.. "I think I'll keep quiet on the issue." Just thinking about Greg arouses me. He felt his cock twitch.

A roar of displeasure arose from the group. "Surely you won't violate the rules and go down as a man. Earth is off limits. We're not mortals, you know. Demigods cannot be fucking them. It's not right. The Powers that Be will excommunicate you for centuries..."

Gideon smiled, lifted his glass and took a long sip of burgundy. What would it be like to own this twenty-four year old Greg? (?) Greg who was twenty-four? To have him lock, (comma) stock and sexual barrel? He is He’s tall, dark and lives in a city called Chicago. With a drawing power stronger than the underling's magic, he draws lures me with magic all his own. (?) me. I don't know why. I cannot wait to bring him to my palace. "I will enjoy mixing with him; it will be worth it."