Parallel Mirrors: Reflected Realities - Sex Stories

Parallel Mirrors: Reflected Realities

... seemed to be the proper precautionary measures, lest she be committed.

Still, the bond between her half-Asian roommate, and her remained strong, uplifting, and intimate. Having caught Freya masturbating, Cassandra quickly grew more open about her sexual antics, sometimes not even bothering to hide her masturbatory antics. Her impassioned moans reminded Freya of Jenna, her lover at another school, another world, another reality. Soon, her otherworldly experiences echoed through reality, and the two became lovers, just never by candlelight in front of mirrors.

The semester gave way to Winter, then to Spring, and though her mind was still splintered, nightmares of worlds half-dreamed, slightly remembered, coursed through her belabored psyche, fracturing it into intertwining segments, fraying strings of sanity coiling around her sense of self. Having ventured through so many shadows of possibility, Freya did the one thing that she felt would somehow, irrationally, quell her curse; she colored her hair a sunny, shining, sun-bleached blond. Somehow, this mentally sated her, and Freya felt, for the first time in her entire existence, at peace. Still, though, her carnal impulses ruled her behavior.

One sunny day, her blond hair billowing in the wind, Freya, singing to herself as she ambled up the dormitory stairs, was surprised to find her lover, Cassandra, sitting on the floor, leaning back against her bed, surrounded by four young men, Gothic-inspired by the look of their ...

... attire. They were all dyed hair, gypsy makeup, lace, and frills. Music and art students, they were a nascent band, and Cassandra introduced her as her “roommate and friend, the poet.” They were leafing through Freya’s old poems, written years ago, the rambling, soul-searching prose lamenting her addled mind.

In a miasmic flash of déjà vu, Freya nearly fainted when they told her that their band was named The Abyss, and they were looking for a singer that could capture the melancholic mood and feeling of their ethereal, soulful, rock music. Hesitant but curious, Freya coupled her angst-filled poetry with their music, finding her voice, confidence, and a sense of outcast’s majesty in the process. As the band’s name transmuted from the Abyss to Freya and the Abyss, finally to Freya’s Abyss, the young woman’s dyed hair grew out, showing the red roots. Rather than recolor it, she dyed it into a fiery fade, the blond ends giving way to orange, then to her natural red.

Empowered with creativity, the art of their music an outlet for her mental anguish, Freya began associating her sexual hedonism and intoxicant usage with the music, often performing in a state of heated lust, sexual antics becoming part of their hypnotic, mesmerizing performances. Cassandra, friend, lover, and confidant, managed them, and the two became inseparable. Courting danger, Freya spent the idle moments before a concert in a darkened room, a single candle burning while she either masturbated herself into ...