Bad Dreams (2 page)

She didn't come to climax, or even want to.
This
dream steeped her in fervent, lecherous pleasure, the wicked thrill of a stranger's invasion, and the inhuman abandonment of her senses. A height of new shamelessness drowned her like a slug of hard alcohol.

When she woke again, bolting upright with a gasp of shock, her hand already worked at the wetness of her cunt, the clean sheets damp beneath her. In shock, she glanced over to see Ron, sleeping undisturbed on his side of the bed.

Again she rushed to the bathroom, locking the door behind her to run a hot 3a.m. bath. She sunk into the water with a breathless sigh and propped her legs up on either side of the tub, spreading her pussy with two fingers to let the rush of the water take her to climax. After the first shuddering orgasm she had to have a second, and then even a third, and even then she curled into fetal position in the water, stroking her fingers deep into her tightening cunt.

***

T
he next day at work proved to be the worst yet. Priya still hadn't rested, still battled exhaustion, and now a persistent sense of hollow guilt gnawed at her weak stomach. She made one attempt at a cup of coffee and gave it up after a single mouthful, retching violently into the break room sink.

"You look terrible, Ms. Priya," her assistant told her as he dropped off her morning mail. "Are you sure you're feeling all right? Maybe you should go home."

She glared at him through weary eyes, not angry, but mad with desire. All at once she
did
want to go home, but only if she could take him with her, strip his twenty-something body naked in a wild flurry of passion, throw all the incidentals off the dining room table and let him fuck her stupid on it. She wanted to pull him into the shower and take him standing under the spray, go at it like bunnies in the bed she shared with her husband.

She waved him away with a vague grunt, head in her hands and long black hair hanging in limp tendrils around her face.

Ron dropped by to visit on her lunch hour, perhaps sensing something amiss after last night's disastrous conversation. He took her to a local café and requested a seat on the patio, in the warm bliss of the sun where Priya could perk up.

She didn't want to be sullen or brooding to him. None of this was really his fault, as much as the petulant, hungry side of her wanted to blame him for it. She'd already been so tired she couldn’t even focus her eyes, and the conversation her husband tried to make fell mostly on deaf ears. She didn't have the appetite for solid food, and so she ordered iced tea. The cold, pure sweetness of it refreshed her. It made for a bit of salvation in a hot, dry hell.

Then, something brushed past the back of her neck and Priya sat up straight, coming awake.

Ron kept talking, oblivious to the change in her demeanor. Part of her half-expected if she stood up right then and walked away from him, her husband wouldn't even notice. Her movements felt distant and numb, almost totally separate from her brain.

As if she moved through a dream.

She glanced up and around the sunlight afternoon, because she sensed
him.
Those hematite eyes were on her, following her. She knew it.

Then, she saw it.

He stood across the street. A tall, broad man, hands tucked businesslike in the pockets of a long gray trench coat, blue-black hair tied back into a sleek ponytail. His eyes, though—metallic and featureless like two gleaming magnetic stones—locked on hers in a manner quite deliberate, and commanding.

Then she realized, with utter disbelief, the coat appeared to actually be a cloak of dark, satiny wings. As Priya continued to stare she saw two heavy, spiraling horns, like ram's horns, twisting back on either side of his head. A thin, whip-like tail wound in lazy figure-eights behind him.

And as he stared back at her, the greatest swell of pleasure stirred to life in her loins. Priya brought a hand to her throat, remembering the coils binding her and holding her down, the long, tentacular appendage penetrating her virgin ass, making her silently scream with raw, vicious joy.

She choked on the mouthful of tea, a too-large cube of ice catching in her throat. Ron stopped speaking, jolted out of his thoughts, and after a moment he shot to his feet to start thumping her on the back. He started to pull her to her feet when her throat relaxed again, and she coughed out the ice, gasping in air.

"Are you okay?" Ron asked. Instead of answering, Priya looked up at where the devilish man stood a second before.

He'd disappeared.

A wild thrum of pleasure echoed up from her pussy, though, tightening gleefully, cool wetness dampening the crotch of her panties.

She'd
come.
She'd choked in sheer unexpected surprise of a sudden
orgasm,
breaking over her unbidden like a wave.

"Oh, hell," she muttered. Ron knelt down in front of her, looking up into her face with worry.

"I'm dreaming even when I'm
awake.
"

***

T
hat night, Priya understood very well what would happen if she tried to sleep. There was no escaping the dark, illicit presence that would wait for her when the paralysis came this time.

She watched Ron in his armchair. He paid studious attention to the eleven o'clock news, unaware of her standing in the door to the hallway. She contemplated something utterly ridiculous, something dangerous, and above all, complicit. Her body weighed heavy in the weight of her exhaustion, though, and even if she tried to fight, she wouldn't be able to resist for long. Maybe there was something redeemable in
trying
to resist, though.

But she'd grown ready—
eager—
to give in.

Priya could no longer lie to herself. What she had seen on the street today had been
wrong.
Inhuman. Unholy.
Impossible.
The creature, whatever it might be, had apparently latched onto her, feeding on her, and it should probably send her running for the aid of a priest. Under the gaze of those soulless glinting eyes, the hungry, debauched, and
animal
Priya took over, though. This could not really be her, had never really been her. It was a Priya the haunting creature wished to create
from
her...a creature like itself.

She didn't have hard feelings about her husband, not really. Did she? The demon must be swaying her with some sort of poison, to make her believe she did. She wasn't the hungry, insatiable woman who wanted to devour her young assistant in an orgy of indulgence.

She should ask for help. Even if this insanity existed only in her own head, the unraveling madness of a woman deprived of sleep for far too long... Priya
needed
to get help.

But she didn't want to.

Without disturbing Ron, she padded down the hall to the bedroom. She clicked the door shut behind her, and turned out the lights.

Stripping down naked, she lay on the bed—on her back, quite deliberately, her body open to the creature who would surely come—and took a deep breath.

"Take me." The heavy fingers of exhaustion already tugged her down, and she let them have her.

"Oh...
take
me..."

One hand drifted to her cunt. She shook all over as she slid her fingertips between warm, pink folds and started kneading the swollen bead of her clitoris.

She didn't know if she slipped into her usual dream state, or if the demon's pervading presence merely crept up on her with slow, somnambulant patience. The instant those big hands ran down her body in the darkness Priya jumped, a gasp catching in her throat. With a sharp joy, she found she
could
move, and gasp, and writhe beneath his touch. She didn't dare to open her eyes yet, afraid to see him looming over her without the vague excuse of dreams to explain whatever she saw.

Hands on her body, and the writhing caress of serpentine coils, rolling and twining over her flesh. She arched herself into them, baring herself to their sinuous attention, letting her whole body be explored up and down. The smooth glide of one thick length ran between her thighs, sliding against her pussy in an eager motion, as though tasting her. Coils rolled against the hollows of her neck, running through her dark hair like fingers and slithering wickedly in the valley between her breasts. She felt twenty years younger, body ablaze with wild sexual need, adored by a dozen desirous hands—no,
cocks—
all over her flesh, prizing her, tasting her, and wanting her.

The first coils wrapped themselves around her thighs, strong and unyielding, pulling her legs apart and opening the wet valley of her cunt to be explored. More than one curious tendril slid down to rub its length along her folds, nudging and teasing, their rounded, burgeoning heads—beautifully phallic, just as she'd imagined—probing her.

More of them wound along her arms and circled her breasts; a set of smaller, tapered ends slithered tightly over the stiff, excited buds of her nipples, squeezing, taunting. Then with a rough heave, one massive, muscular length slid underneath her and lifted her from the bed. Tendrils wrapped her wrists and held them tightly behind her.

Finally, Priya opened her eyes, half in fear and half in wonder, to see what monster she'd given herself over to.

Aside from his metallic eyes, she could make out nothing but a black silhouette of his body. All of him was silhouette, a living shadow with gray, satiny wings half-spread as he leaned over her. She
had
to be dreaming: there was no way he could hover like that without his wings being hit by the ceiling fan or catching in the curtains over the window. He filled her vision though, heedless of the petty empirical constraints of the room.

His upper body wholly resembled a broad, human man. Light from the window gleamed off musculature reminiscent of a Renaissance sculpture, a marble perfection she longed to lick and taste. His lower body, though, lay shrouded in shadow: a knot of dark, shifting fog Priya could not pierce. Somewhere, his shape became the massive coil stretching beneath her body to lift her up.

The other coils—and
God,
there were so many—all unwound from somewhere underneath his wings and behind his back, a low-slung collection like the legs of a spider or the long, grasping tentacles of a squid. A hundred horrible, dangerous images flashed through her mind as Priya beheld him, visceral depictions of hell and purgatory, gut-wrenching illustrations in Lovecraftian novels, images of vengeful mythical monsters. They all made her shiver with fiendish, wanton joy. Her body arched to be devoured.

"Yes," she moaned lustfully, letting her head roll back, closing her eyes again. "
Yes...
I want you to do it.
Take
me."

He said nothing, but she could feel his pleasure, a rolling rumble through his winding body. The creature leaned forward, his human torso inches from her own, human hands caressing her breasts down to her soft belly.

Meanwhile, a pair of coils wrapped around her throat, forcing her head back, her jaw open.

Then, the first phallic member slid itself into her open mouth.

Priya moaned around the squirming, turgid little beast, her throat working as she eagerly swallowed at it. Already wild, bitter ejaculate seeped from the head, thick as it mingled with her saliva, satisfying as she tried to gulp it down. The demon growled in approval as his other coils wound and writhed against her cunt.

One after the other, a slick tendril squirmed first into her wet cunt, thrilling her, swelling to fill her to the very deepest place. She didn’t believe she could possibly take more, and then it began to move, not thrusting but sliding and pumping. A second organ pressed into her stubbornly tight asshole. The simultaneous invasion made her cry out in joy around the cock in her mouth, arching her spine. A swell of gluttonous pleasure flooded her loins.

The two appendages worked in tandem, thrusting into her in alternating rhythm, surging and wriggling inside of her. Her cunt dripped, sticky juices trickling down onto the creature's muscled coil. She relish this total possession of her helpless body and surrendered. Every movement of his many organs fed her dark, insatiable craving.

When Priya opened her eyes again the demon let her see his smile. Sharp white fangs gleamed like knives in his lustful grin. A long, forked serpent's tongue flicked out between the vicious points, and he bent his head to lav at her stiffened nipples, closing his mouth over them to suck until they throbbed. His hands followed the curve of her ribs, down to her hips, fingertips warm as they grazed her.

The tendrils binding her wrists pulled her steadily downward, bending her like a bow over his serpentine length, and she squeaked with the strain. The delving coils thrust deeper: the one in her mouth practically choked her, bringing tears to her eyes, as the ones in her pussy and ass plunged eagerly farther, thick and lithe. Each movement, delightful and delicious—hot, surging throbs sent flutters of sweet ecstasy through her.

I'm going to go mad,
Priya thought. He feasted on her—
that's
what he did. He savored each wave of her glee, so long and so intense and so full of dizzying, intoxicating bliss.

The rhythm of the tentacles increased, harder, rougher, until she imagined it couldn't possibly keep up. Her own pleasure soared; every part of her flooded with light, high and shivery and euphoric. Tomorrow she would sting, her pussy would ache from him. She might even have bruises where the thickest tendrils had pried her thighs apart. Even those thoughts just made it better, though.

In a sudden pitch of bliss, her body convulsed, twisting in the demon's coils as an orgasm so huge it became almost painful crashed through her. Twisted pleasure surged through every limb, and it took her so high Priya forgot everything. All thought obliterated. Brain and mind and heart, a burning sacrifice, a white-out of pure, incomprehensible ecstasy. She became an imbecile in the bliss, unable to think of anything besides the ravenous beast feeding his cocks on her, wanting it more and more and more.