You succumb

Her guttural voice pierces through your mind preventing you from running away. The devilish face is a few inches from yours. You are about to scream when something odd happens.

The monster in front of you starts to fade. Her finger deeply buried in your intimacy melts like hot butter in the Mexican desert. You have a hard time discerning her traits. Her contour blurs; her colors dissolve into the mist; she slowly disappears.

You blink, twice. You look around expecting the monster to jump at your throat through the thick cloud of steam but nothing happens.

You’re all alone in the Turkish bath.
Were you having a nightmare? Is the **** still playing with your senses?

The goose bumps running up your spine seem pretty real. You shake your head to repel the vision of horror. If it was not for the cold wetness between your legs and the pleasure still lingering in your loins you would dismiss the monster as a bad dream, yet you are unable to dispel the freezing burn of her hands on your thighs. You realize that you have been holding your breath. You inhale, you exhale, you inhale again. The air that rushes into your lungs is cold. The mist surrounding you is awfully cold. You start shivering. Terrified you try to stand but the fog pushes you back.

The white cloud starts moving on its own. It engulfs you, caressing your body, running between your fingers, slipping between your thighs, brushing your face, your mouth, your eyelashes. Leaving a cold tray of dew on your skin, the white cloud feels like ethereal satin. It is pretty weird. The strip of white fog is neither solid nor liquid but something odd in between. It is as if thousands of tiny firemen were spraying you with thousands of tiny but potent fire hoses. It tickles but at the same time it is extremely pleasant. When the tentacle of fog finishes climbing up your legs and touches your drenched labia you cannot contain a moan of pleasure. Forcing through your lower lips the tiny firemen start pounding the inside walls of your pussy with their tiny fire hoses. You spread the legs to facilitate their work.

The tickling increases. Hundreds of needles pierce your naked body. You look at your forearms. Little strings of your blood wave from small incisions and dissipate in the mist. You feel weaker by the minute as your blood is absorbed by the fog.
Barbara finally rematerializes.

Her finger is still inside you. Her flesh is now hotter. Understanding her demands, you lay back offering your neck to her blood covered fangs. She avidly sinks them in sucking the remaining blood in from your veins.