TNG: Picard/Borg Queen; drabble
She comes to me at night, marching across the sylvan meadow of my slumber. She touches me, my mind, with her misshapen words and insidious images.
"I can give you power beyond your imagination," she whispers. Her hands glide over my skin. They feel cold, dead, and I can't help but shiver.
She does things to me previous lovers never even dreamed about. And I let her. God help me, I let her.
I awake in a rush, drenched in sweat and urine and semen. My body betrays me, even as my mind wrestles with demons unleashed.
The darkness awaits.