Paralysis

According to you, 9 AM was way too early to be awake. That day you had no reasons to get up at least until noon, no responsibilities, no interruptions. A good day for lucid dreaming.

After years of practice, you’ve become pretty good at it. You knew your reality checks like the palm of your hand, and you had a diary for keeping track of your adventures in Dreamland. That day you had no plans, except for letting yourself get carried away by the waves of your subconscious. In general, trying to force a specific situation only brought disappointment.

Sitting on your bed, drowsily watching some videos on your phone, you stayed awake for about an hour. After a long chain of memes and Disney metal covers, by the time you looked at the clock it was 10:08.

Time to go back to sleep.

You laid on your side, closed your eyes and waited. You felt restless, like you were already too awake to fall asleep again. For a couple of minutes you tried to stay still and ignore the sudden need to scratch your arm. Eventually, you gave up; the itch was too distracting, and the sooner it stopped, the sooner you’ll be able to sleep.

Except that you couldn’t move.

It’s normal, the very definition of “sleep paralysis”, you thought; almost unavoidable when using this lucid dreaming technique. You tried to move your fingers, and for a moment you thought you could. Maybe you hallucinated it.

Even though you were used to the symptoms, your survival instinct urged you to try to move, to try to scream. You had to swallow the will to fight the paralysis, otherwise your plans would have been in vain.

You felt your whole body vibrating. A deafening noise threatened to blow out your eardrums. It wasn’t real, it couldn’t harm you. It only lasted a few seconds. In the end it’d be worth it.

Then, you felt a presence in the room. A shadow, moving in front of your slightly half-open eyes. The feeling of someone sitting on your bed, lying down against your back. Hands touching your body, a warm breath against your nape.

Another completely normal symptom of sleep paralysis, a bit more fun than the others. Incubi. Or at least, the origin of their myth.

And then you woke up, but not really. A fake awakening.

The digital clock displayed some unintelligible symbols. You repeated every reality check and stabilization technique you remembered. You looked at your hands; they had more fingers than usual. You looked around. The room looked pretty normal, though you were sure those posters weren’t there before you went to bed. And there was a fishtank in a corner for some reason. The prettiest man you’ve ever seen was sitting on your desk chair as if that was the most common thing in the world. He was wearing a black suit, a full beard, his long hair caressing his shoulders. His kohl-lined eyes were shining in a sinister shade of yellow.

Oh, this was going to be a good dream.

You walked towards him with the confidence that knowing you’re dreaming and none of your actions have consequences gives you. This was your dream, and as long as it lasted, you were gonna make the most of it. You knew mixing sex and lucid dreaming was generally a bad idea, strong emotions tended to destabilize them, but that didn’t prevent you from trying. As you got closer to him, you noticed a pair of twisted, ram-like horns, growing on both sides of his head. Interesting. Was he a demon? An incubus? Maybe you subconsciously materialized an incubus into your dream by thinking about that during sleep paralysis.

“Hey, wanna fuck?” Those were the first words that came out of your mouth. Off to a good start, you thought. In your defense, you only had like two waking neurons and lucid dreams tended to be kinda short, so you didn’t have enough time to beat around the bush. The man smiled maliciously.

“Wow, how subtle. You’re not even gonna take me to dinner?” He asked. His voice was low and deep, like warm honey seeping into your earholes. He combed his hair with one hand, tucking some rebellious strands behind an ear. Peeking out of his sleeve cuff, you noticed a tattoo on his left wrist. For a moment you thought it looked like an eye, but you weren’t sure. It changed shape every time you looked at it. “At least buy me pizza.”

By the time you realized your mistake, the room began to spin, and your vision faded to black.

—

You were back on your bed. Feeling disappointed, you supposed the dream was over. Pity, you would have loved to have a sex dream, even if it ended being slightly unfulfilling as lucid sex dreams usually were.

But as you opened your eyes, your heart missed a beat as you saw the same man from before crawling on top of you, looking at you the way a predator looks at a defenseless prey, knowing there’s no way to run. He was naked, and moving behind him you thought you saw a long, pointy tail. When you tried to sit up, you realized you couldn’t get off the bed.

You panicked and tried to struggle. This wasn’t like any sleep paralysis you experienced before: you could move the rest of your body, but your limbs felt as heavy as if they were made of solid iridium. You tried to scream, but the only thing that came out of your mouth was some incoherent babble.

He seemed to perceive your desperation and laughed at you. “Easy, I’m not gonna hurt you. Much.” With one hand he grabbed your face and forced you to look him in the eyes. The other moved down your neck and caressed the space between your breasts. That’s when you noticed you were naked too. “I’ve noticed the way you look at me. I’m here to give you what you want.” You didn’t exactly know what he was talking about, but you couldn’t completely argue against that. You literally asked him for sex a moment ago. “And because I’m hungry. A mutually beneficial situation.” He smiled. His plump, pink lips looked as tempting as before, even in this precarious position. Maybe even enhanced by your precarious position.

You felt exposed, vulnerable; but you couldn't deny you were enjoying this whole situation. The man (incubus? You supposed he was an incubus) made you nervous, but the idea of being at the mercy of some sort of supernatural being was exciting. Especially such an attractive one.

Also, you were obviously still dreaming, what could possibly go wrong?

“I know your fantasies,” he continued. “The things you think about when you watch the videos. The things you want me to do to you.” The hand that explored your breasts suddenly pinched one of your nipples. You yelped; dreams weren't supposed to hurt. “You have a very dirty mind, you know?” The other hand grabbed you by the hair, forcefully pushing your lips against his. His mouth was warm and humid and felt strangely normal. In your dreams, kisses were usually cold and indifferent, like kissing a mannequin. Instead, he completely took over the situation, nipping your lips with sharp teeth.

The kiss was intense but short, as he was getting impatient and his mouth had better plans. It continued descending through your body, licking and biting your skin in its path until it reached the wetness of your cunt. He pushed your legs apart and bent your knees for better access. His hot tongue flicked tentatively at your flushed, swollen clit and made you tremble.

Being unable to bury your hands in his hair and feel the texture of his horns was frustrating to no end, but you couldn’t do anything but stay still and receive his ministrations; how he teased your most sensitive spot, licking and sucking with enthusiasm. He then devoured your opening, his tongue moving in and out, simulating intercourse. His beard scraped the sensitive skin of your labia, his nose rubbed insistently against your nub. His yellow, inhuman eyes, watched you intensely from between your legs, observing every reaction, every display of pleasure.

Right when you were about to reach orgasm, he stopped, as if he could read your mind. “Are you having fun? I hope I’m meeting your expectations.” His lips were even redder and puffier than before. He looked even prettier.

He then raised above your heaving body, imposing. He grabbed your face again, forcing you to kiss him. You could taste your sex in his mouth, feel your wetness on his beard. You had exceptionally realistic lucid dreams before; you’ve tried food, felt the rain falling on your skin, but nothing like this. The colors were too vivid, the sensations too intense.

“I guess it’s time to take what belongs to me,” he whispered in your ear. Ge grabbed his dick and guided it towards your entrance, pushing forward and burying himself inside you fully in a single stroke.

You opened your mouth in a silent gasp. He barely gave you any time to adjust, his long, deep thrusts seemed to reach your very soul. You could feel the thickness of his cock stretching your inner walls, the obscene sound of his body slapping against yours. His hands surrounded your neck, squeezing just enough to make you feel like your life was in his hands. “This is what you wanted, isn’t it? You didn’t want me to be gentle, you wanted me to take you by force.” You couldn't answer, so you just nodded your head fervently. “Now fucking take it.,” he growled. His thrusts then became fierce, relentless.

Suddenly, you felt something thin and pointy pressing against your sphincter. Oh, yes, the tail. You almost forgot. The long appendix pushed insistently until it breached your other entrance, impossibly deep, the sensation as strange as it was stimulating.

You didn’t know if you were moaning or just imagining you moaned. The paralysis was unbearable; not being able to touch him, to hold on to him. Not being able to touch yourself. It was torture. “P-please,” you thought you managed to mutter. The word never came out of your mouth; if it did, he completely ignored it. Instead he kept thrusting inside you, fucking you violently, seeking only his own pleasure. His grip on your neck got tighter, cutting off your breath. His face contorted in a terrible, menacing grin, baring his teeth, revealing long sharp fangs. Pain and pleasure mixed into pure ecstasy. Your vision started to get cloudy. “You’re fucking sick.”

The tail moved inside you impossibly deep, the friction was maddening. His fierce rhythm was becoming more erratic. You couldn’t tell if the incubus felt your frustration or if he took pity on you just because he was close too, but in the end he released your neck so he could rub his fingers against your clit, stimulating your body from every angle and allowing you to breathe again.

When you came, it was as if all your vital energy escaped your body in the most earth-shattering orgasm of your entire life. The incubus rammed your pussy a couple more times until he came too, driven by your contractions, cumming inside you with a piercing guttural moan.

The tail slowly slithered out of your insides, an uncomfortable and unpleasant sensation. Panting heavily, for a moment you noticed you could move your arms again, but it didn’t matter anymore. Your vision started to darken, and an extreme lethargy came over you, with a fever-like headache. You felt the incubus snuggling beside you, strangely affectionate considering everything that happened between you both so far.

The last thing you perceived before losing consciousness was his melodious voice softly singing a oddly familiar lullaby:

trust in me, just in me
shut your eyes and trust in me
you can sleep safe and sound
knowing i am around

His tone gave you the exact opposite impression.

—

You woke up feeling tired, like you had the worst hangover of your life, and more satisfied than you've felt in ages at the same time. Your latest lucid dream was an absolute success, more vivid than ever, your favorite up to date. Quickly, you grabbed your diary and began to write.

“14/apr/19 - I dreamed I had sex with a demon, an incubus or something like that. During the dream I didn’t notice, but he looked exactly like Jonathan Young, a musician that makes metal covers of popular songs on YouTube…”

As you finished writing (in great detail), you finally got up from bed, determined to start the new day. You really needed a shower, your underwear was completely soaked. The clock read 10:49.

But when you looked at yourself in the mirror, your blood ran cold. There was no logical explanation for the bite and scratch marks covering your body.

(Translated in December 10, 2023)

[Author's Notes: This story is a translation of my own fanfic I wrote in Spanish on April 14, 2019. There’s a bunch of little references to Jon’s (older) villain song videos sprinkled here and there, as well as some things he said in the Boyflop Podcast. Can you find ‘em all? ;)

My original idea for this fic was to write a sequel inspired by the Oogie Boogie Song music video (with Reader tied up to a chair) further explaining the concept that Jonathan Young is an incubus and that, in this universe, incubi need to be “invited” (kind of like vampires) in order to access a person’s dreams, so he used his YouTube fame as a mean to find people who fantasize about him and feed off of them. I never wrote that sequel but some of my ideas for it ended up in a different story called “Stalker”.

The lucid dreaming technique described in the story is called WBTB (Wake Back to Bed), the most effective and easiest to learn in my opinion. I hope I described it realistically enough. Most of the dream sequences (the non-sexy bits) are inspired by my own experiences, but I didn’t wanna make it too personal/unrelatable for others. The original Spanish version had Reader waking up at 11 AM at the beginning and at 1 PM at the end because that’s my shitty sleep routine, but I changed it to more “normal” hours in the translation, again, just to make it more relatable. The second part of the story was harder to write because unlike lucid dreaming, I don’t have experience with having sex with Jonathan Young. But I wouldn’t mind getting some practice, you know, for science.]