The Succubus Part 3 [MF]

“Steve, I don’t know what your EEG machine showed but I had a vision.
It wasn’t a dream it was a vision of, well the best I could describe it was a vision of hell.”

I went on to describe what I had seen during the time I was out cold.
While I was relating this Steve had a BP cuff around my arm and taking my blood pressure.
I could see the look of consternation on his face as we spoke.
“Frank, lets head back to your room to talk.

If you don’t mind I’ve asked a friend of mine to join us.
He’s the head of a research team that explores the mechanics of dreams and dreaming.
They have been doing this work for a couple of years now and have had some interesting findings.

Returning to my room I was introduced to Steve’s friend Dr. John Green.
“Hello Frank I’m Dr. Green.
However let’s not stand on formality just call me John and if it’s OK with you may I call you Frank?”
He asked.
“Sure Frank is fine.” I said.

“So if you don’t mind bring me up to speed, tell me the whole story from the beginning.
As he was speaking he set a small recorder on the bedside table.
Switching it on he told me to go ahead.
The two of them sat as I related the entire story from front to back leaving nothing out.

The telling took about forty minutes.
The entire time nether John or Steve interrupted my tale.
When I was up to the present timeline and what had happened during the EEG there was a look of concern upon John’s face.

“Frank do you consider yourself a religious person?
Did you grow up in a religious household?” Steve asked.
“Steve you know me, I grew up in a Jewish home, although we weren’t very religious.

My dad called us submarine Jews.
For most of the year we were deep underwater, only to surface during the “High Holidays”.
After that we went underwater until next year.” I said.
This brought forth a nod and a chuckle from both John and Steve.
“Frank I think your parents and mine were of the same cloth.

I was also raised in a Jewish home and my experience was much the same.
It was only in the last years did it occur to me to explore how your upbringing influenced our dreams.
How did our religious influences direct our dreams?

These are the questions I have asked over the last few years of my research.
Frank I have a favor to ask, I have a friend who is a Rabbi and also interested in certain aspects of my work.
Would you mind if I asked him to join us tomorrow to hear your story.
He may have some insight’s that may prove enlightening.
I think you’ll like him, he’s quite a character.”

After both Steve and John had left a nurse came in with a med that John had prescribed.
In the little paper cup was a small brown pill.
“What is this?” I asked the nurse.
“It’s called Thorazine.
The Dr. felt this would help.” She replied.
Well what the hell, if it can help what’s the harm.

So I lay in my bed wondering when this magic pill would take effect.
That made me laugh, I knew enough to know that things never worked like that.
It was just my desire to put this all behind me and get on with my life that was projecting a false desire.

Late in the evening I did my best to stay awake.
I thought if I was awake I wouldn’t suffer the dreams.
By one am I was finding it more and more difficult to keep my eyes open.
Try as I might I succumbed to my body giving in to sleep.

In what seemed like moments I was out cold.
Yet even with the Thorazine I began to feel the onset of my horror.
She popped into existence at the foot of my bed.
Ever so slowly she crept up the length of the bed until once again she began her oral ministrations.

That impossibly long tongue began its journey inward through the tip of my cock only to go in search of its bounty.
Tonight as her body sank down upon my cock there was something different.
Instead of the volcanic heat that previously surrounded my cock tonight it was icy cold.
It felt like I had ice bags wrapped around my cock.
So cold I began to feel a numbness begin to set in.

As she leaned inward the shimmering began anew.
When she began to inhale the shimmering I felt myself once again slipping away.
Once again I was seeing through her eyes.
The barren bone littered plain was before me, this time I spied a path that began at my feet only to wind away off into the distance.
I was terrified to move from this spot, if I moved would I ever be able to find my way back home again?

Stepping onto the path I took a first step forward.
As my foot fell upon the path the dried bones littering the side of the path began to rattle.
With each step forward the bones behind ceased to rattle only to have the ones directly alongside me to pick up where the ones behind left off.

The crimson sky looked angry and restless.
Far off in the distance the volcano spewed its reddish plume.
Those misshapen lost souls that shambled about the landscape were picking up lose bones from the ground.
With each one they picked up they attempted to fit the new one onto a bone they had in their hands.

If you asked me I would say they were trying to make an entire skeleton from those discarded bones.
An endless task, when you had millions of bones to choose from.
The next of these I encountered held an almost complete skeleton.
As it picked up one last leg bone it placed it onto the one he held.

As it clicked into place the skeletal frame came to life.
Placing it down upon the ground the now complete skeleton came to life and began picking up bones to create another of its kind.

Turning back I retraced my steps to my starting point.
As I returned to my place I came upon someone standing in the spot I stood when I first came here.
Another victim of the succubus I suppose.
With his back to my I endeavored to gain his attention.
When I walked around towards his front the image never changed.
Wherever I turned all I could see was his back.

Frustrated beyond belief I grabbed his shoulders and spun him around.
Falling backwards I landed on my ass.
The image that stared back at me was myself!
It opened its mouth and one word fell from its lips, “Forever”.
It was at this point the screaming resumed.

I was still screaming while the nurse was shaking me awake.
I continued screaming while the orderlies strapped me to my bed.
The only reason I stopped screaming was because I couldn’t scream anymore.
My throat and mouth were locked into an open mouthed silent scream.

The nurse sat by my bedside as my Dr. was called looking for directions.
When she had finally reached my Dr. she described my condition and what steps were taken.
Before anything could be decided I needed to put my two cents in.
“No sleep, please don’t let me sleep.
If I sleep I’ll die!” I told the nurse.

Half an hour later Steve came in to my room looking haggard and drawn.
“Frank the nurse told me what you said to her.
I don’t think you will die if you sleep.
If we keep you awake for to long you will suffer what is called “Sleep Deprivation” this can lead to a form of schizophrenia.
Generally this takes around seventy two hours or so of wakefulness.

There are other factors that may bring this about, such as not being allowed to dream while sleeping.
This might happen if you were awakened every time you began to drift into REM sleep.
So you might be asleep yet your mind is not permitted to exercise itself by dreaming.”

“Steve first I’m sorry they had to drag you out here at this time of night but I’m desperate.
Every time I sleep I fall into the same nightmare.
What bothers me is that this nightmare always picks up where it left off the time before.
Along with that this…this creature is morphing.

Each time she, it becomes clearer and the dream if it is a dream feels like I am sinking deeper and deeper into its world.
What terrifies me is there may come a time when I won’t be able to come back.”
I went on to describe the dreams in as much detail as possible.

At this time I didn’t care if he thought I was crazy
I figure if I was crazy then I’m OK and there is no she creature and I can maybe be helped with medication.
If on the other hand this thing is real, well then no amount of meds are going to help.

“Frank, I can’t prescribe any meds that will keep you awake.
I can however get you a large pot of coffee.
First thing in the morning my friend Rabbi Ben Nachman has consented to come and join us.
Ben is quite the character.
He and I have been friends since collage we were roommates the first three years until he went to Israel to attend Rabbinical school.

One of his great interests is the study of Jewish mysticism in particular the “Zoharistic Kabbalah”.
He’s considered one of the leading experts on the subject of Jewish mysticism.
Don’t ask me to explain it I can barley pronounce the name let alone understand it.
Now it’s three am, do you think you’ll be OK until around eight am?”
“Steve thank you for coming in and I’m sure I’ll be OK.”

By eight am I had had enough coffee to keep me awake for a week.
I honestly believe if I had another cup I would piss a gallon.

About twenty minutes later both Steve and Rabbi Nachman came into my room.
When I had pictured the Rabbi as Steve was talking earlier the image I had conjured up was of an elderly bearded, bespectacled gent wearing a heavy black coat and matching wide brimmed hat.

Well I got the beard and the glasses right at least.
The rest of the image was far from what I would expect.
In place of the heavy black coat was a well-worn leather bomber jacket.
Perched upon his head was a Chicago Cubs baseball cap.

When he looked at you, you knew right away here was a man that had seen more than his share of toil and hardship.
Yet there was a glint in his eye that spoke of a great glee and a childlike joy as if everything was new and exciting.

“Frank, this is Rabbi Nachman.” Steve said.
“Hello Rabbi, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“Frank, Rabbi is far too formal why don’t you just call me Gary.”
I had to do a bit of a double take at that.
For the life of me I never thought a Rabbi might be called Gary.
Oh well it’s a big world so why not a Rabbi named Gary.

“Hello Frank, Steve tells me you are in the midst of a medical/metaphysical and what have you problem.
When he described your dreams I had to come and see what I could discover.
I don’t know if I can be of help but what can it hurt.

By now you have no doubt told the story a dozen times and I hate to be the one to ask you to suffer through another telling but if you would indulge me I would like to hear this from you directly rather than second hand.

Grabbing a chair both he and Steve scooted up to the edge of the bed and settled in for the telling of my tale.
By the time I had finished my narrative Gary was starring open mouthed and Steve was leaning back on the chair as it tipped to the rear only the back legs upon the floor.

“Frank I must say, that is an unusual tale.
When Steve first told me the story of what was going on I was filled with disbelief.
However after hearing it directly from you I’m not so certain it’s a fabrication.
By that I don’t mean that you’re lying, I mean that there is more going on than one would expect from a fabrication.

So to put it bluntly I believe you and your tale.
So for the moment what I need to do is consult with a friend for guidance.”
Ten minutes later they had taken their leave and left my alone to wonder what’s next.

Laying there watching TV, I received another visitor, my office manager Kim.
“Hey Frank how are you doing?”
“Well I’ve been better.
Steve brought an outside consultant that I met with this afternoon.
He has some ideas of what may be happening.

I didn’t bother telling her what this consultants profession was, no need to let her think everyone around me has gone off the deep end.
He is talking with a third professional and is planning on meeting with me again tomorrow.”

“Frank that’s great, I hope they find some answers soon.
Everyone at work has been asking about you.
OK Frank I have some good news that I hope will cheer you up.

You know my husband and I have been trying to have children for the last few years with no success.
We’ve tried every method and nothing worked.
Well in the last few days I had been feeling sick in the mornings so yesterday I went to my Dr.
and discovered that I’m pregnant!”

“Kim that’s wonderful news.
I know how hard you and your husband have been trying.
I told you once before all it takes is one little swimmer to reach the right spot at the right time and presto, instant family.”

“So Frank, what did the Dr. say is the problem, did they stick you with enough needles yet?
Everyone is asking about you and want to know when you are coming back.” Kim asked me.
“Kim if I had an answer to that you would be the first to know.

I hate being stuck, poked and prodded like a frog in a school biology class.
If they stick me into another MRI machine I am going to walk out of here even if I have to walk down the street wearing this stupid gown with my butt hanging out.

Now I expect that you will name the kid Frank if it’s a boy or maybe Francine if it’s a girl.” I told Kim, laughing as I relayed my opinion.
Kim broke into a hearty laugh at my pronouncement.
“Frank, I think my husband will have something to say about your choice of names.
Now I need to get going, the store isn’t going to close itself.
So I will see you as soon as I can.
Let me know if you need anything OK.”

Later that evening I was doing my best to stay awake.
I had drunk enough coffee that I ended up running to the bathroom ten times in the last three hours.
Unfortunately no amount of coffee was going to stave off the inevitable.

I knew I was falling asleep and there was nothing I could do to stop it.
As I drifted away I saw myself in my hospital bed almost it seemed as an out of body experience.
I was drifting near the ceiling looking down at myself.

As I watched she appeared again.
Today she was back to the beautiful woman from my first dream so many days ago.
As she crawled up the length of the bed her long sinuous tongue unfurled itself as it began to probe my cock.

Driving down into the depths of my body that tongue twisted around inside me as the pre-cum flowed from the tip.
Once she had her fill she straddled my cock and began to sink down upon it.
As soon as she was fully seated my view snapped to the vision of hell that I had endured on previous encounters.

I was back on the road, the sky and landscape hadn’t changed one bit.
This time there was a difference.
In my hands I held a bone that to the best of my knowledge was part of a leg.
In disgust I threw the bone as far as I could.

Upon landing the bone flung itself back into my hands.
Twice more I attempted to rid myself of this ghastly thing.
Each time the outcome was the same, back into my hands it came.

Taking a lesson from those poor unfortunates I spied before I began picking up bones that I thought would match up to the one I held.
A dozen times I tried to fit one to another without success.
The next one I picked up began to vibrate as it neared it’s mate as I approached I could feel what felt like two magnets drawn together.

As I touched it to the one in my hands it snapped into place.
Disgusted I dropped the bones to the ground.
As I began to walk away those same bones dragged themselves along the ground behind me.
When I stopped so did they.
Their following was relentless, if I ran they were right there besides me.
There was no escape from them.

Behind me in the distance I began to hear screaming.
It was the sound of a woman screaming for help.
The source of this sound was not apparent.
What caught my attention was the scream calling for a Dr.
Who the hell would be calling for a Dr. in this place?

One second I was in hell the next I was back in my room with a nurse screaming for a Dr.
This was the voice I heard while in hell.
The nurse was shaking with fear, her face as white as the bedding I lay upon.
Three nurses and a pair of orderly’s came rushing in.
The nurse who had raised the alarm collapsed into the chair next to the door.

Everything was chaos, those present split between asking the nurse what was going on the remainder gathering around me asking the same questions.
All I could contribute was being awakened from my sleep by the screams.
It took a few moments for some degree of order to reassert itself.
Only then did the nurse begin to explain what all the ruckus was about.

Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/fi4g5h/the_succubus_part_3_mf