The dream continues...

The wrongness struck her first: The sensation that she had somehow been pressed and stretched out of shape, then poured into a mould she didn’t fit into. This time the sensation of suffocating wasn’t from being crushed by some unseen ****, but the gag in her mouth and a blindfold blocked much of the light around her.

Fighting the panic, she tried to raise her arm to her face, but found that her limbs had been bound at the wrist and ankle, spreading her wide on the bed. Both her bonds and the blindfold were of soft fabric, but the profound weakness that perpetually dominated her in these dreams made escape impossible.

She heard - clearly, for the first time - the sound of a door opening and closing followed by approaching footsteps. Vicky’s struggles renewed as she cried out through her gag, her voice alien and paper thin.

She fell still as a finger pressed itself gently against her lips, and Vicky felt her face being gently caressed by the unseen stranger as they whispered to her in a voice she knew but still could not place.

“Shh. There, there. I know it’s scary, but it will all be over soon. We won’t be taking you anywhere tonight. You need your rest, after all.”

Vicky whimpered as she felt both hands wind their way across her neck and down her chest to her stomach. Once again, she was struck by the intense sensation of wrongness: That her body had somehow deflated and she had collapsed into this weakened form over which her captor’s hands danced teasingly.

Enticingly.

Erotically.

The last thought made her shudder in what she thought was repulsion until she became aware of the utterly alien sensation of something stirring to life in her groin. Her breathing grew ragged and fearful as the feeling increased in intensity, draining what little willpower she had until every ounce of her flickering life **** was trapped in the impossible thing pulsating at her crotch.

“Ooh,” cooed the voice. “For me? You shouldn’t have.”

The lascivious tone sent another tingle up Vicky’s spine and in a flush of sudden horror coloured with arousal, she realised she was hearing the voice of Helena Brown.

Before she could make any further attempt to communicate, she felt a finger delicately tracing its way from her knee up her inner thigh. With every inch, Vicky expected it to make contact with the alien organ that had somehow attached itself to her, and yet that moment never came. Instead, just as she thought she might go mad from the anticipation, the finger withdrew, releasing from her a shuddering moan of disappointment.

The dream Helena giggled, tracing the same line on the opposite thigh with the same result.

Vicky was unable to fight or ignore the unfamiliar sensations flooding her feeble form, unable even to struggle or cry out. All she could do was lay there, her mind awash in a deafening roar of conflicting emotion as she felt a finger finally trace its way between her legs and curl around… something.

An entirely foreign part of herself was being cupped in the woman’s hand, being stroked and ever so gently kneaded. Her body whole body was rigid and she had become completely unaware of any sensation except the single digit sliding up and up and up to the tip of…

“Does it feel good?”

Vicky croaked through her gag. Even without it, she couldn’t have spoken.

“Of course it does,” the voice chuckled. “It must be so strange. You’ll get used to it, so just enjoy yourself.”

Vicky felt the bed beneath her move as the dream Helena shifted her weight. There was a brief moment of respite before the sensation of something breathing on her crotch made her freeze.

With an alluring sigh, the dream Helena began to lick up and down, teasing her, giggling at every shudder and moan. Vicky’s tenuous grip on events melted as she felt herself engulfed in a warmth that slid all the way over her, the lips of her captor kissing her pubic mound.

The warmth stayed there, tasting her, savouring her and she left the occasional swish of a tongue swirling around the alien thing. Slowly - excruciatingly - Vicky felt the woman’s head rise, exposing her twitching length to the very tip before descending again, enveloping her to the base.

One… two… three… Vicky found sanity in detaching herself from her senses, counting mechanically in the shelter impersonal observation while her body writhed.

Eight… nine… ten… the rise and fall grew in speed and intensity, the sensation no longer loving and gentle but carnal and hungry.

Fifteen… Sixteen… Vicky could feel the suction as the lips pulled back, the brief cold as her moist skin was exposed to the air and the rush of pleasure as the warmth returned.

Twenty-one… She had tried to ignore it at first, but a pressure had begun building inside her body that throbbed in time with every stroke.

Twenty… twenty… Vicky lost count as the pressure crawled through her body, wriggling into her crotch. The dream Helena must have sensed it too, because she dove down along Vicky’s length as a sudden convulsion possessed her, squeezed her and wrung her out. Her body trembled and stars burst into her vision as the pressure at her crotch was released into her captor’s lips as spurt after spurt drained her completely.

In seconds, it was done. Vicky could still feel herself wrapped in the dream Helena’s mouth, but the concentration of life that had sucked so much energy from her had begun to creep back into her body, her rapidly softening length shrinking with every heartbeat.

The lips holding her refused to let go until they had licked every inch, sucking and suckling around her folds before finally letting releasing her with a sigh of satisfaction.

Exhausted, drained and reeling from the strangeness of it, Vicky barely registered the hand against her cheek or the kiss on her forehead.

“Until next time,” the voice said, and the body slipped off the bed, leaving the room to the tune of a door opening, then closing

Vicky’s body had spent all its energy in that horrifyingly alien encounter, and to her **** relief, she felt sweet oblivion claim her at last