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 itıs 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 couldnıt. 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. ³First....² She said. ³Thereıs pleasure.² 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 wasnıt 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. ³Now comes the pain.² 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. ³please donıt stop² 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.