Succubus Dreams

succubus P Pronunciation Key (sky-bs) also succuba (-b)

n. pl. succubuses or succubi (-b, -b) also succubae (-b, -b)

A female demon supposed to descend upon and have sexual intercourse with a man, sometimes resulting in his death

An evil spirit; a demon.

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The sheets burn against my skin. It's too hot and I can't escape it. Even the dark side of the pillow is scalding and I moan. The only thing that hurts more than crying is not crying. Every atom of my being is twitching and writhing. The myths of the succubus are true... she can love you to death. But what the stories won't tell is that sometimes she, herself, is consumed.

Like a bad drug trip, I try to scratch the feel of his touch off my flesh. It was a simple seduction, like all of those that came before. He followed and would have done anything for me.

I kept him for days. I used him. I brought him to pleasure again and again until he begged me to stop and give him rest. I fed from his lust and his flesh and his sex. I ate his energy, filled myself with the power of his life. Fed until he couldn't move from under my fingertips and not even a touch of teeth on tender skin could bring a sound past his lips.

I left him there, in his apartment, naked against the pile of pillows and tangle of blankets. He wasn't dead. Even succubi can stop themselves if they notice the partner is fading. I don't know if he died after I fled. He must have. I think of his dark chocolate eyes and they swim in my head. I wish I could float above the bed so no particle of sheeting could ignite against me.

He must be dead, for he's haunting me. I toss and turn but there is no relief from this hell. Every breath brings a new sensory memory. Flashes of the way his back arched under me, and again above me. The little frown between his eyebrows as he realized I wouldn't let him rest.

My thrashing stops. I can't make myself move. The tiny shudders have ceased and I can't tell if my eyes are open or not. I haven't got the energy to try to blink to find out. I'm completely drained. I think ~This must be how they feel. Felt.~ Too tired to move. Too drained to die. Can a succubus die? Finally, finally the heat dies. Fades into a chill.

I can't even bring myself to shiver, though the sheets that had felt like a sterno fire now feel like freon. He stares into my eyes from above me. Or next to me. I can't tell where I'm facing. He may just be in my head. But I can't tell. I just can't tell. It's too late to say I'm sorry... he's dead and I am dying. How has he done this? How can I be feeling this drained? How? Why?

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She was beautiful. I couldn't say what was beautiful about her exactly, but when I looked away it was all I could do not to immediately turn back. I don't know what possessed me. I approached her. Bought her a drink and she didn't throw it in my face. When she asked if we could go to my place I thought I would die at her feet from joy.

We went. She had a rich melodic voice and I remember I thought she would be a wonderful phone sex operator. But the voice wasn't the only pleasurable thing from her lips. I came in five minutes. I muttered apologies, embarrassed and feeling as though I was fifteen again. She touched my chest with long lacquered nails and I was surprised to find I wanted her again. Over and over.

At first it was a dream come true. I was a god in my ability to perform. Until I noticed my skin rubbing raw and my body growing heavier and heavier. She didn't stop. She rode me, she teased me and tasted me until I couldn't even cry for her to quit. I couldn't open my eyes, or I couldn't close them, I wasn't sure. All I could see were her green eyes.

I passed out. I must have, because I woke up. I was too weak to move and the weight of the sunlight from my window was crushing me into the stained blankets. I lay there for who knows how long. My body was sore, aching, and I wondered if that was how the camel felt right before the last straw settled.

I thought of her. Tried to remember what it was about her that made me lose myself until my groin was red and raw and my back felt like it was fused in a stiff line. I couldn't picture her well. The curve of her hip. The swell of a breast. Those white teeth flashing as her perfect lips stretched around my... I dozed.

I dreamed of her. Of riding her and watching her beautiful body become slack and tired as I forced her again and again and again to be wet and open. I dreamed that I could use her strength to recharge my own. I woke again. I got up. I felt better than I ever had, like I could take on the world. I left the apartment.

I didn't know how long it had been since the night I picked up the beautiful creature at the bar. I walked. Walked because I could. I knew I would never see her again and it both hurt me and relieved me. I was almost loved to death. What was she? How could she have drained me like that? What? How?