She came that night, the way she had come every night for the last 
month.  In the never land between dreams and consciousness, she was 
an imposing vision; back lit by the brightest of moons.  As the full 
length French doors opened, she seemed to float through to foot of my 
bed. I lay there naked, paralyzed, and without any command of my will 
whatsoever. Since she started coming to me, I had become terrified of 
the night. I slept with a tiny light, plugged into an outlet near my 
bed. 

As she moved closer the soft glow of the light accentuated the color 
of the rich auburn hair that cascaded around her face in soft waves.  
Her lips were full and fire red, and as she looked at me, her smile 
was a smirking foreshadow of the evil ecstasy I would endure.  Her 
skin was milky and soft, without a blemish or line, it radiated an 
unerring pureness that was a profound reversal of what she embodied.
She wore a long , black,sheer robe, draped provocatively over her 
body, exposing a dramatic and inviting decollete.  The vision of her 
was an epiphany of sexual desire, and unrelenting terror. Tonight was 
different  though, tonight it was real. 

In the past It really was a dream. Each night I would go to sleep, 
and she would come to me. I would lie still in my bed with the covers
pulled tight around me.  When she came, all I sensed was her 
presents. The next morning I would remember the experience the way 
you would remember any incredibly vivid dream.  But ordinary dreams 
tended to fade as time went on, these dreams became an indelible part 
of my consciousness.  

She would appear over me, waking me by gently brushing  her lips over 
the nape of my neck.  I would feel her warm breath, and a drop of 
perspiration on my brow, then my eyes would open. She made no sound, 
and by putting her finger to her mouth, I knew that I was to be 
silent as well. It was apparent that she was holding something back.  
I felt an overpowering frustration from her as she kissed me softly 
on those nights.  The truth was she was the embodiment of every 
sexual fantasy I ever had.  She had long nails, painted the color of 
her lips, and as she lie next to me, she would gently scrape them 
under my chin, down across my chest, over my abdomen, and then, 
exercising extra care, she would drag them up the shaft of my ever 
erect penis. 

These nights would be spent in soft, slow, deep, wet, kisses that 
would go on for an eternity. We would go on in motionless embrace or 
softly satisfying each other with our hands, our legs, our mouths.  
All the time, she was imposing her will on me.  Each night she would 
tighten her grip on me just a little more. The next morning I would 
become more and more preoccupied with her vision, almost as if my 
free will were being supplanted, and desire for her were being put in 
itąs place. The one thing that stayed consistent was that doubt, that 
plausible denyability that I would allow me to go on with another 
day.  As long as I could hang on to some shred of evidence that what 
was going on was, in fact, a dream, I would be ok. Tonight all of 
that ended.  

There was a different texture about tonight, a different look to 
everything. My senses were alive. As she stood at the foot of my bed, 
she stared at me intensely. Her eyes sparkled green, the color of 
fine tsavorite. I was under her control, no question.  I wanted to 
get up, but couldnąt.  I lay before her ultimately vulnerable, naked, 
trembling, and at the same time being fill with a desire that burned 
with the intensity of a ceremonial funeral pyre. She put her knee on 
the corner of the bed, reaching down she crossed her arms and took 
hold of the hem of her smock.  

She lifted it over her head exposing her curvaceous, yet muscular 
body.  She let the smock fall to the floor, turning her head.  As 
she looked back, I noticed she was breathing heavy, her breasts 
rising and falling with each breath.  She leaned over and started to 
slowly crawl towards me. As she hovered over me she bent down to 
whisper in my ear. As she did I felt her hardened nipples brush up 
against my chest. The fire grew more intense.

łFirst....˛ She said. łThereąs pleasure.˛ And with out another word 
she opened her mouth and gently covered mine. 

As we passionately kissed it was apparent that my body was under her 
total control.  She put her arm under my shoulder and with a fluid 
motion she rolled me over on top of her.  With a hand on each 
shoulder she pushed me down, I instinctively  moved down kissing 
first the nape of her neck and then the soft underside of her 
breasts. Her skin was soft, and smooth. The scent of fresh lilies 
filled my nostrils as I worked my way down her body.   I was a slave, 
receiving instructions directly from her mind, yet the hunger, the 
yearning, was mine alone. 

I kneeled at the foot of the bed before the alter of her body.  She 
pointed her toe and slowly lifted it up, pointing at my face.  I 
gazed down the line of her smooth, muscular leg, adding to my 
delirium. My ears were bright read, and I could hear the sounds of 
the crickets chirping in the night air as I took her foot into my 
hands.  It was soft and delicate, and I started to massage it, 
working my palm in to her arch.  She rested her arms behind her head 
while caressing my hardened sex with her other foot.  It was if she 
never used these feet to walk, scented and soft, I put her toes into 
my mouth using my tongue to wet them.  I slide my hand up and down 
her leg while holding her foot in the other. This went on for some 
time as she lay back with closed eyes, seemingly in some other 
dimension.  I worked my way down her leg massaging her leg with my 
hands and my mouth as I approached the soft folds of her dark, 
inviting delta.  Her sex glistened with a welcoming wetness, and I 
detected a sweet musty smell which provoked a delirium, a 
lightheadedness. 

I lightly touched the outer folds of her sex with my tongue, up and 
down in the most tender manner. Her breathing became more urgent, and 
my tongue probed deeper, exploring the silky flesh of her most 
intimate area. Her clitoris was engorged, I keep up a rhythmic 
pattern up and down her opening.  She was becoming unsettled. 

All at once she turned over kneeling on all fours, her backside 
jutting up in the air, and her back arched. Her butt was hard, smooth 
and round as an apple.  I buried my face into her drenched and 
slippery sex.  I started to press my tongue into her anal area, 
probing, biting her backside, adding my saliva to her already ample 
lubrication.  At that moment she straightened up , reaching back she 
tugged my shoulder. I moved up and positioned my body to enter her.  
My swollen phallus slide  effortlessly into her vagina.  She braced 
her arms against the head board as we rocked each other. I put my 
head between her shoulder blades, I could hear the beating of her 
hart, the sound of the blood coursing through her veins.  

The urgency with which I impaled my sex into her was increasing 
logarithmically. The rules of time and space where now suspended, her 
honeyed cantilene flowed, my mind soured as I clung tightly as the 
sweat that gummed my body to hers was causing my arms to slide. Then 
something happened. The noises of the night fell silent, and she 
shuddered, convulsed and started to scream. It was a horrible, 
unyielding, wail of the dammed. She straightened her body, dislodging 
my penis. She turned around to faced me with her head cast down.  We 
were both on our knees facing each other, her breasts pressed into my 
chest, her nipples hardened, and firm.  Then she looked up at me and 
it was apparent that the state of sexual frenzy had a deeper more 
profound effect on her.

Here eyes glowed now, and penetrated the very core of my being, but 
that wasnąt what disturbed me the most. She smiled an evil smile, 
baring her teeth, and she had grown fangs, Sharp incisors, and she 
started to make a growling hissing noise. At that point she put her 
talonious fingernails across the back of my neck, and drawing here 
mouth close to my ear she said. łNow comes the pain.˛  

She dropped on to her back, pulling me down and driving her nails 
into my back.  I was frightened but with my will gone, all that was 
left was the sexual fever still gripping me.  She was now incredibly 
strong she had know problem flipping me over on my back and in one 
continuous motion mounted herself on top.  It was like she could fly. 
She raised one hand up and plunged her nails into my chest, dragging 
them across, opening up four lacerations.  With the other hand she 
reach back for my sex and plunged it back into her tunnel.  She 
simultaneously started a rhythm wile leaning down licking the red 
vino hemorrhaging from my wounds. She was crazed, unhinged, and I was 
sickened, raptured, and fearful. Now I was in pain, My flesh was 
ripped and I needed to explode, I wanted orgasm, I started to beg to 
her. łplease donąt stop˛

Then she dismounted, right as I was on the verge of orgasm. I was a 
mess, in a sweat.  For a moment she disappeared.  I needed release.  
I started to masturbate, working my hand over the swollen, purple tip 
of my fully engorged penis. Then, as suddenly as she left, she 
appeared clutching a huge phallic implement in her claws. She seems 
genuinely disturbed that I would dare attempt to relieve myself. If I 
had thought that the device she now held was something she wanted me 
to use on her, it was quickly made apparent I was wrong, my mouth 
went dry.  

She grabbed me by the hair, flipped me around and kneeled over me on 
the bed.  She rubbed the implement on her sex, lubricating it with 
her own ample supply.  Then she positioned it on my anus and impaled 
it into me with a forceful thrust.  Working it  in and out I let out 
a scream, she was  taking great delight hearing me squirm.  As she 
continued, my initial shock subsided as she was now provoking a new 
sensation of erotic ardor.  Working the implement with a knowing 
exigency, I was overcome with a duality of pain and sexual lust .  

She opened a fresh set of wounds on my back, and started licking the 
warm fluid as it cascaded across my back. The sheets of the bed were 
soaked with blood, sweat, and her carnal lather.  The smell of 
perfumed, sex hung in the air as she continued to ply me with a 
lustful vengeance.  I was exhausted, but the sexual fire still 
burned.  Finally she had had enough of her toy and she extracted it 
from my body and threw it on the floor.

Again she tossed me up like a rag doll and positioned herself lying 
on her back.  I ended up on top and she reached down and reinserted 
my penis into her hot fiery sex.  The warmth was inviting and I began 
to feel the passion swell me again.  We started to rock, wetness was 
returning  to my mouth.  I felt compelled to kiss her as I felt 
myself nearing intimate completion.  As I moved my lips closer to 
hers, I saw my blood smeared on her lips and face. It was a erogenous 
duality of revulsion and arousal.  We shared a passionate kiss and 
then I felt a great eruption swelling in the both of us.  Our love 
making was feverish, unrelenting, and deathly maniacal.  Again I saw 
her glowing eyes, the flair of her nostrils, and then her teeth! 
 
At that moment she drilled her fangs into my neck.  I felt a warm, 
numbing sensation. As her teeth puncured my skin, my body ceased 
to respond. I was helpless, her mouth cover the two wounds she had 
made with her fangs and began to draw the burgundy victual with utter 
abandon.  Her mouth was a wet, foul, greedy, thing, sucking to the 
rhythm of my pulse, the lights were growing dimmer with each 
heartbeat..  A she worked my neck, I continued to thrust my sex 
deeper and deeper into her opening. Just as I was about to let go, 
she screamed that unholy wail.  I exploded; I could feel the warmth 
of my procreative mantel, gushing into her body, with a force 
equal to the level of carnal desire she had provoked in me.  At 
the same time I could feel the color of life being expurgated from 
my wound.  As the last drop of my blood was surrendered to the 
sccubuss, I could sense her complete satisfaction; she lifted her 
mouth from my neck and as the blood drooled down from her lips onto 
the top of her breasts, I saw that wicked smile one last time. 

That was the last memory of my mortal life. I never saw the sunrise 
again.