Erotic Nightmares

It starts where it starts really. Who's to know where our dreams may take us. Who knows what we'll do or what others might do to us?

Hi, I'm Melinda. Guess you could call me a career woman in that I'm 35, single, have no children and I manage a shoe shop. I like to think I'm a decent sort of person with a good social conscience. That's probably why I recently signed up to test a new that's supposed to treat migraine; a condition I suffer from from time to time. I was given a goodly supply of the tablets and instructed to take two whenever I had migraine attack. I was also given a special app on my phone on which to record the tablet's efficacy or lack of efficacy, plus any side affects I may experience. The 's name? It doesn't really have one yet. At the moment, they're calling it 'Preparation Yz19'.

I had to wait a week or so before I took my first dose because it would be pointless taking the tablets before I had a migraine. I mean, how would I know if they were working or not? Anyway, one evening as I was auditing my shop's accounts, I started seeing bright zigzag lines of light in my vision, which is a sure sign that I've got a migraine coming on. Naturally, I downed two tablets as prescribed and was pleased to find that after a few minutes, my vision was completely clear of luminous interference. I finished my audit and treated myself to a large glass of my favourite Rosé wine as I settled down to watched some television. I'd received no advice as to whether or not it was safe to consume after taking Preparation Yz19. Therefore, I assumed that either it was or they didn’t yet know and were using volunteers like me to find out. In this way, I was making a difference; good for me!

What wasn't so good for me was the fact that in my case, it wasn't safe for me to mix pills and booze. Okay, maybe I should have known, maybe my normally reliable common sense should have warned me, but I was tired and therefore to a momentary lapse of reason. As a result, I quickly began to feel very drowsy. I nestled down in my easy chair and closed my eyes, fully expecting to doze.

Oddly, didn't. My body became and remained fully awake while my mind started to behave as if I were asleep. All sorts of random thoughts came and went without any apparent rhyme or reason - and I couldn't turn them off. It was as if the conscious part of my brain had been into a state of complete impotency. As a result, it was reduced to the role of a mere spectator as the part of my brain did it's stuff.

Some of what I was witnessing was familiar to me: the shop, my staff there, the contents of the cupboard under my kitchen sink. Scenes from a recent and highly enjoyable beach holiday came flooding into my mind - and stayed there. It felt as if I really were back on the beach. I could hear the breaking surf and the cry of the gulls. I could feel the breeze in my hair and the sand between my naked toes. Glancing down at my toes, I froze in abject horror, for not just my toes were naked. I was completely naked. How? Why? My blood seem to run both hot and cold at the same time. I felt exposed; embarrassed. Where were my clothes? How was I going to get back to the hotel in this state? Was anybody looking? Looking round, I found the beach completely deserted, save for one old looking man who was way off in the distance and so no immediate threat.

But he was looking directly at me through glasses that sparkled in the sunlight as brightly as the onset of one of my migraines. Was seeing me? If so, he'd see my nakedness for sure; but then again, he was old and very far away - only maybe not quite as far away as when I first saw him. At first, I didn’t understand. I turned away from him to hide my frontal nudity but then felt the chilling terror of not knowing where he was. This was unbearable, so I partially turn in hope that he'd changed direction, or stopped, or even simply dissappeared. He hadn't. He was still coming and coming fast. He was old and ugly yet I could clearly see now that he was running like a young sprinter. A hideously disquieting thought occurred: what else could he do like a young man? On no! Surely not that; and yet as I looked, I saw his skinny claw-like hands opening and closing as if mauling the air and I instinctively knew that my naked flesh was their ultimate target.

I turned and tried to run but the soft sand slowed me down. I felt strangely heavy and seemed to be moving in slow motion. Even my breasts were rising and falling in ultra slow motion as I ran. They positively billowed with my every stride. It was distracting. I had no idea my flesh could move like that; it was as if I had two unworldly alien jellyfish attached to my chest, feeding off my fear whilst simultaneously injecting me with something that set my whole body tingling in a not wholely unpleasant way. I recognised that tingle, it was sexual arousal of the sort I get from my vibrator. I shouldn't be feeling this right now. There was certainly nothing sexy about me having to run for my honour and, quite possibly, my life. I could feel my pursuer's eyes on my back as I ran and just knew he'd be ogling my thighs, arse, plus glimpses of my uncontrollable breasts as they bounced and swung. Who was this geriatric pervert? Why was there suddenly no one else on the beach but me and my pursuer? Then came the sound of another, faster pair of feet than my own, running on sand. A sound rendered all the more appalling by by being accompanied by rapid and heavy breathing. A wail of despair burst from my lips as I sensed him reaching for me.