The Last Incubus

The Last Incubus: Chapter 14

Chapter 14: "Operation Gossip" Part 1: Deception.

"You are a child of the devil and an enemy of everything that is right! You are full of all kinds of deceit and trickery." ~ Acts 13 v. 10.

*****

Tuesday, December 5

The sound of the alarm on my phone brought me back to consciousness. It was 6:42, so it must have been buzzing for a while. Four and a half hours sleep were clearly not enough time. Still half asleep, I zombie-walked to the bathroom and met Tina as she was coming out. Her hair was wrapped in a towel, and she had a second towel wrapped around her torso, modestly dressed compared with her usual bathroom departures.

"Geesh, you look like shit. You were out so late, I didn't hear you come in. I hope she was worth it," she commented with a knowing smile.

"Yeah," I answered sleepily.

"Anyone I know?"

"Fra- (mumble) from the (mumble, mumble)" I responded as I entered the bathroom, closing the door behind me.

"I'll make you some coffee while you take your shower!" she called through the door.

I removed my shorts and stood under the hot water. It helped a little. Out of curiosity, I turned the handle to cold water, wondering if my human body was as impervious to the cold as my demon skin was.

'Yikes! That's cold!' I shivered, quickly turning the faucet back to warm. I guess that with bizarre bodies come bizarre benefits. At least the cold water helped me wake up.

When I wandered down to the kitchen, Tina had a fresh pot of coffee ready.

"Good morning, sleepyhead. How was your evening last night?"

I still wasn't awake enough to recall the details.

"Pretty good, I think. But this sex demon business is really cutting into my sleep time. What about you? How was your night?"

"Not too bad. Lezzie was over and we fooled around a bit. I'd really like to see what you could do with her. She could use a good stiff dick in her, just to break up her routine."

I took another sip of coffee before answering.

"I don't know. I'm having second thoughts about interfering with other people's sex lives, especially after what I did to that girl, April."

"Yeah, well, I'm sorry I can't help you out with her. I hope you took my advice and stayed away," she replied.

"You know, I saw her in the library last night. She seemed very despondent. I took your advice and didn't say anything to her, but I'm still worried that she might try to harm herself."

Tina went silent for a while after that. She sat there, drinking her coffee, and staring at the table in front of her.

After a while, she uttered a single word. "Menard."

"What?"

"Menard. April Menard. But that's all I'm going to tell you," she replied.

"Thanks... I guess."

She put down her cup. "Lezzie's coming over again tonight. Are you going to be around?"

"Wait a minute, did you tell me April's name and now expect me to seduce Leslie?" I asked suspiciously, raising my voice.

"What's the big deal? I don't know what you're getting so upset about."

"I'm not upset. I just don't like the idea of your using my body as some sort of a bargaining chip. Especially since you know what I've turned into."

"If you mean a sexy incubus, I've already considered that. I thought you would jump at the chance to dip into her honey pot. Lezzie can be a real tiger in bed, once she gets going. I can personally vouch for that," she winked.

"For your information, my cravings for sexual energy seemed to have diminished, at least temporarily. Apparently, whatever changes I've been going through seems to have slowed down or stopped. Maybe my transformation is complete, and I can go back to spending more time on my studies."

"Do you mean to tell me that you don't need to feed on that 'aura' you were so hungry for over the weekend? I thought sex demons lived off that stuff."

"All I know is that I can go for longer periods of time before those intense gnawing feelings return. So maybe I don't have to 'jump at the chance to dip into Leslie's honey pot' as you so crudely put it."

"Look, there's no obligation on your part. I just thought it would be a great experience for both of you. I mean, how often does a guy get a chance to rock a lesbian's world?"

"What if that lesbian doesn't want to have a guy rock her world? Have you considered that?" I replied.

She took another sip of coffee and looked at me.

"I hope you give me more cred than that. I've known Lezzie for a little more than six months now, and trust me, she's definitely curious. We talked about it again last night and she wants to try it, but she needs someone who's gentle, kind, and won't judge her or try to change who she is. You saw how curious she was last week."

I put down my cup.

"Yeah. You were both drunk as skunks at the time."

"Well, maybe we were a little tipsy," Tina admitted.

"Tipsy? You were both so sloshed you needed me to drive her home, remember?"

"Okay, but she told me she kissed you when you got there, so she's ready for you," she countered.

"It was a peck on the cheek," I clarified.

"For Lezzie, that was a lot. How often do guys give you a peck on the cheek?" she asked.

"Don't be ridiculous. That's completely different."

"Maybe to you, but for someone like Lezzie, that's a big step," Tina explained.

"Alright. I'll think about it. But only if she's completely sober and I don't have other commitments."

"Oh, of course. I forgot what a social bat you are," she smirked.

"Don't you mean social butterfl--oh, fuck!" In my sleepiness, I was too late to realize that she was sarcastically mocking my demon wings.

Arriving early for my 8 AM Advanced Forensics class, I saved Bailie her usual seat. However, when she arrived in class, she completely ignored me and sat in the back row. I pulled out my phone and texted.

To Bailie:

Lunch today?

No response.

To Bailie:

Are you mad at me?

Still no response. Is she ghosting me? I was about to text her again, but--

"Is your phone more interesting than my class, Mr. McPherson?"

I looked up, and there was Professor Talisman looking directly at me.

"Oh, no! I'm sorry, Professor."

"Please see me after class, Mr. McPherson."

"Yes, sir."

I slunk down in my seat for the rest of the class. Afterwards, the Professor reprimanded me further about texting in class, and then asked if I was ready to turn in my assignment about my DNA results. With all the changes and excitement over the weekend, I had forgotten all about it. I promised him I'd have something for him on Thursday, or next week at the latest.

As I was leaving the building, I wondered why he would make such a big deal about my texting in class. Students do it all the time. Was he trying to make an example of me or am I the only one who he's ever caught doing it?

In either case, Bailie was long gone by the time I had a chance to look for her. So, I took out my phone and called her, but when she didn't pick up, I had to settle for leaving another message on her voice mail.

But Bailie wasn't my only concern this morning. With 45 minutes until my Business Marketing class, I went to the library to do a little recon work. I sat at the table closest to the front desk and waited for Miss Goodman to leave, but after half an hour, she hadn't budged. I needed a diversion.

I went back into the stacks and picked out a few books from different locations and brought them up front with me. I then dialed the private number to her office phone. When she went back to answer it, I quickly dropped the books off in the reshelving cart and hung up before she could pick up the receiver.

When she returned and saw the books in the reshelving cart, she looked around to see who may have left them. I, of course, had my head buried in my Business Marketing textbook. She looked at the cart and sighed before wheeling it towards the back of the library to reshelve the books.

Once she was out of sight, I slipped into her office and checked the sweater on the back of her chair for her size. I also noticed she had a spare pair of shoes in her office. 'Good to know,' I thought as I returned to my seat before she returned. I had the information I needed.

Business Marketing class at 11 was straightforward enough. I ran into Gabriela, and we engaged in a bit of small talk. I got the impression that there was more she wanted to say but was holding back. I didn't press her, but I made a mental note to talk to Tripp about her during our workout together.

I looked for Bailie at lunchtime and, not surprisingly, I didn't see her. I sent her another text message: "can we talk?" But she didn't answer.

For the second day in a row, I ate alone in a room packed with people I didn't know. The good news, if it could be called such, was that hardly anyone was talking about April. But looking around, she wasn't in the cafeteria eating lunch, either.

With the rest of Tuesday afternoon free, it was time to work on my plan. I headed to a local church thrift store to look for a decent-looking dress in Miss Goodman's size. I picked out something blue with flowers that looked frumpy and only cost $6. Then I looked for underwear, but apparently no one buys--or sells ladies' used underwear. However, they did have used bras. But bras are complicated. You have to know chest size and cup shape. I had no idea bras could be so detailed, and I certainly didn't have those measurements on Miss Goodman.

I was holding up a large bra trying to guess if it was Miss Goodman's size when I heard a voice behind me.

"May I help you, sir?"

I turned and there was the cashier lady with cat's eye spectacles behind me. From the way she said "sir," it was clear she wondered what in God's name I was doing looking at used bras.

I felt my cheeks turning red.

"Uh, it's for a friend--for Christmas."

She looked at me over the top of her glasses. She didn't say a word, but the expression on her face spoke loudly.

Why is this 20-year-old college pervert looking in a church thrift shop for a bra and dress that belongs on an older woman?

"Mother. I mean my friend's mother. It's for my friend's mother," I explained.

"I see," she replied, but the tone in her voice told me she didn't believe a word. "Do you know her size? Your

'friend's mother,'

that is?" The sarcasm in her voice was unmistakable.

"Maybe I'll just take the dress," I said, sheepishly.

On the way back from the thrift shop, I stopped by the BI House and spoke with Frankie, letting her know that everything was in place, and we could begin "Operation Gossip." She said everything was set on her end, but she was going to need a favor from me in return.

"I'll tell you what it is afterwards," she said, grinning. Her smile reminded me of the facial expression on the sly snake tattooed on her stomach.

From the BI House, I headed to the gym for my workout with Tripp. I was going over the plans in my head when someone shoved me from behind.

"Get out of my way, Nerd!"

"Hey, what's your problem?" I yelled before turning around and seeing Gil and his sidekick Derrick behind me.

"You're my problem, Nerd. You and that Mousey girlfriend of yours. I'm not going to let you get away with snitching on me to the police," he sneered.

"Stay away from her, Dubois, or I swear, I'll - I'll..." Actually, I didn't know what I'd do.

"You'll what? Run away and tell your cousin? I'll get even with her, too! I've already taken care of Mousey and you're next on my list!" he threatened as he pushed past me.

When I heard him say he 'took care of Mousey', I panicked.

"What did you do? You better not have touched her! Tell me, Dubois! What did you do?" I yelled at his back.

He and Derrick just laughed as they ran towards the gym.

I tried texting Bailie again.

Me:

Bailie, r u alright? I'm worried about u. Please call & or text.

No response. Maybe she was working and couldn't answer her phone. Or maybe it was muted. Or maybe she was hurt and something happened to her. Crap.

I checked my phone. The diner was about a mile away, but there was just enough time to get there and still meet Tripp at the gym if I ran. I sprinted to the diner, occasionally slipping on icy pavement and twice almost getting hit while crossing streets.

I was huffing and puffing when I got there only to find the place closed with yellow "do not cross" police tape on the outside. The windows were boarded up with plywood, so I couldn't see inside. I even tried the doors, but both the front entrance and the side entrances were locked. What was going on?

I tried calling again, but there was no answer, and I left another voice mail message. I started walking back to campus, wondering how I could get in touch with Bailie. I knew she lived off campus, but I didn't know her address. Maybe Tina would tell me, even if it meant sleeping with Leslie to get it.

With that plan in mind, I checked the time on my phone. Crap, I'm going to be late to meet Tripp! So, I sprinted back to campus and the gym.

I arrived at the gym only a couple of minutes late. During our weight training, I asked Tripp if everything was okay between him and Gabriela, but he just gave me a funny look and changed the subject. Whatever it was going on between the two of them, neither of them wanted to talk to me about it.

After the workout, I tried calling Bailie again, but there was still no answer. I left her another voice message and ate a small supper in the cafeteria before getting to the library with 30 minutes to spare before my shift. Before taking a seat, I made a quick sweep of the library. There was April in the same remote cubicle she had been in last night. Now I only had to wait for Miss Goodman to leave to initiate my role in "Operation Gossip."

Anxious to get started, I approached the front desk to let her know I was ready to start my shift early. She thanked me, avoiding eye contact, something she had been doing since last Friday, and told me she'd be leaving shortly. I offered to lock up her office for her, but that was pressing my luck too far. Still, I was prepared for that possibility.

Miss Goodman didn't leave until 6:50, and I waited an extra fifteen minutes, just in case she had forgotten something and decided to come back. With no inquiries at the front desk, I jimmied her office door open with my debit card and slipped inside.

Miss Goodman's office has windows all around, giving her the ability to peer out into the library. However, she always kept the blinds drawn for privacy and I had never seen inside. My heart raced as I quickly undressed, out of a fear of getting caught. I took a deep breath and focused on my appearance, bracing for the feeling of being flayed by thousands of sharp knives...

It only lasted a second. I expected the shower of sparks and the feeling of being skinned alive, but with the change of height and body size came the additional feeling of having all my bones breaking.

"Damn, that hurt!"

That was Miss Goodman's voice! Was she here? Did she come back? I looked around and saw I was alone in the office. Then I realized that voice came from me.

A quick survey of my transformed body revealed large, droopy breasts, an oversized paunch, and my dick was gone. I looked like Miss Goodman--naked. I remember thinking 'this is going to give me nightmares for a long time.' If forced to choose between my demon body or Miss Goodman's, I'd definitely pick the demon. My only consolation was that I didn't have to worry about hiding a bulge from an erection.

Not having a pair of ladies' underwear, I slipped on my men's boxers--they fit. Then I got into the blue dress I had bought at the thrift shop. Seeing the way the material tented out over my breasts was an 'interesting' experience. I felt very self-conscious about it, and my heart started racing. After all, despite being covered, everyone could see that I had breasts and how big they were. It was going to take some time for me to get used to them. Time that I didn't have.

My heart was still racing as I placed my feet into the spare pair of shoes Miss Goodman kept in her office. Being braless, my large boobs flopped underneath the dress as I walked to the door. Feeling the dress material rubbing against my nipples made them tingle and when I glanced down, I saw they were halfway down to my belly button, erect and poking against the front of the dress.

'Oh, great! Something else to be self-conscious about,' I thought to myself.

Nervously, I took a deep breath and opened the door to the library. It was time to play the part. I tried to channel my inner Miss Goodman. To think and act like her. It reminded me of being in a high school play. If only my boobs weren't so big, or my nipples didn't show, or my heart wasn't beating so fast.

There was a student at the front desk, and I helped her with her question. Normally, that would have helped to settle my nerves, but I'm sure she kept staring at my breasts and nipples as I was talking. Finally free, I went to find April. She was still at her cubicle, staring aimlessly at the same page from the same textbook I saw yesterday. Her eyes were red, and it looked like she had been crying.

"Miss, will you come with me, please?"

I whispered.

"What?"

She seemed to break out of a trance, noticing me for the first time. I was standing at an angle so she couldn't see my erect nipples.

"Please come to my office."

"Am--am I in trouble?"

she asked, trembling.

I gave her a sweet smile, something I didn't think Miss Goodman's face was capable of. Maybe I was breaking character, but I didn't want to scare her any more than I already had.

"Not at all, deary. I've noticed you sitting here staring at that same page for the last two days and I just thought that maybe you and I should have a little chat."

She followed me to Miss Goodman's office, where I asked her to have a seat across from me at the desk.

"We can talk freely in here without disturbing the other students," I explained.

Once she was seated, I asked her, "I noticed you moping in the same cubicle for the last couple of days. What's going on? Why are you so sad?"

April just stared at the floor.

"It's about a boy, isn't it?"

I decided to try the indirect approach. I didn't want to tip my hand too soon.

A tear rolled down her cheek. "I'm so ashamed."

I felt like such a heel. I had all I could do to keep my voice steady. "Why? What happened?"

She kept staring at the floor, and her bottom lip quivered nervously. "I did a terrible thing, and now I'm going to hell."

I thought to myself, 'No, you're innocent.

I'm the one

that did a terrible thing and

I'm the one

that's going to hell.'

However, my reply was, "Oh come, deary, it can't be as bad as all of that."

"I knew it was wrong. Why did I do it?" she sobbed. Tears were starting to run down her cheeks.

My heart was breaking for her. I got up from my chair and put my arm around her shoulders. There was a box of tissues on the desk, and I wiped her cheeks with a tissue.

"Does this have anything to do with that frat party last weekend?" I asked.

"Yes," she blubbered, looking down at the floor, her tears flowing freely.

"You're Alice Menard, aren't you?"

She looked up at me in surprise. That temporarily stopped the eye water.

"Y-yes. How--how did you know?"

"I--I heard about what happened to you at that party," I replied.

She burst into tears again. "It's all over the school. Everyone knows about it!" she sobbed, getting up from the chair to leave.

Crap! Now I've made things worse. Tina warned me not to interfere! I need to tell her why I brought her into the office before she leaves.

"Alice, wait. You shouldn't blame yourself. You're not the first freshman to fall for that old fraternity prank."