The Last Incubus Ch 27

The Last Incubus: Chapter 27

Chapter 27: Broken people and errant dreams.

"When you lie down, you will not be afraid; when you lie down, your sleep will be sweet." ~ Proverbs 3 v. 24.

*****

Frankie's eyes pleaded with me as she made her request.

"I want you to make me your thrall."

Her words were so unexpected that it took me a few seconds for their meaning to sink in. I would have bolted out of the room if I hadn't been tied to the bed--So, that's why she thought it was necessary to restrain me!

I pulled against the restraints. "Absolutely not! Frankie, that's a horrible thing to ask me. Thralls are like... well, I don't know exactly what thralls are like, but they're no more than slaves. Maybe even less than slaves with no free will of their own."

She stopped stroking my erection and got off the bed and opened one of the drawers of the nearby dresser. She pulled out a small, leather-bound book about two inches thick. She sat down cross-legged on the bed near my crotch, with the book on her lap. She was turning pages with her left hand while stroking me with her right.

"Not according to Mage Lutien. Here it is, on page 173:

Once a person is enthralled, he or she continues to have free-will in a limited sense of the expression, because the enthralled is subject to the whims of the succubus. They are able to communicate telepathically, and the succubus is able to read the thrall's mind either continuously or intermittently at any time of her choosing. The demon may control the thrall's movements and behavior either directly or by granting or denying sexual favors, making it impossible to resist her wishes or desires.

All sexual pleasure, as well as aura energy is felt by the succubus, who may drain as much or as little of it as she requires. This enables her to gain sexual energy while engaging in other activities, providing that the thrall is doing it for her. To that end, the succubus is able to change the shape and size of the thrall's external features to make him or her more appealing to would-be sexual contacts.

"So, you see, I could still be me, as long as I have your permission, and we would have this permanent sexual bond between us. Plus, you'd be able to read my thoughts any time you want to," she smiled suggestively.

"I have no desire to read your mind, trust me. Anyway, I can pretty much guess what you're thinking now," I replied, eyeing her hand gliding up and down my cock.

"You have no idea what dirty thoughts go through my mind. Just imagine the sexual fantasies that I could share with you. I get wet just thinking about them," she said, pumping harder.

"Dream-walking allows me to do most of that now. Don't forget, because I've tasted your cum, I can make you cum anytime I want to," I said as I gave her a small squirt of sexual energy.

"Mmm--oh, fuck!"

she murmured as her body quivered slightly. She squeezed her thighs together as she stopped stroking me and grabbed her crotch from the small orgasm.

"Now, will you release me?" I asked.

"That felt nice, thank you," she smiled, taking her hand out from between her thighs. Her index and middle fingers glistened with her juices. Her intoxicating scent of tuberose and jasmine filled the room, and my nostrils flared to take it in.

"Frankie, I didn't do that to make you feel good. It was meant to make a point."

"Mage Lutien writes about that, too. On page 63, he describes a temporary connection through a person's sexual fluids. That connection could last as long as a month, depending upon how much fluid was ingested," she read, as she reached for my erection.

As I watched her glistening fingers move closer to my cock, I twitched. Frankie saw it and her eyes lit up and a devilish smile crossed her lips.

"Hm, maybe we should reinforce our connection. Open up!" she smiled as she leaned in and held her fingers under my nose.

"No, Frankie, don't--mmb!" I protested before she shoved her cum-covered digits in my mouth.

I should have tried to spit out or bite her fingers, but the taste and smell of her juices on top of all the attention she had given my erection had rekindled the incubus in me beyond my ability to control it. Unable to resist, I began sucking her fingers, tonguing them greedily.

"That's it. Suck those fingers. Just think of the endless supply you would have when I'm your thrall," she cooed, soothingly. Her aura flaring brighter.

I felt ashamed of my weakness for not holding back that feral urge as I continued to suck on her fingers until I was sure I had ingested every last molecule of her sexual juices. My only consolation was that it temporarily sated my demonic desires enough to regain some control over my thoughts and actions.

That control came in handy, because her fingers were coated with my saliva, which increased the sensitivity when she started stroking me again.

"Frankie, please stop that and talk to me. Why are you asking me about enthrallment? What's really going on? Is there something you're not telling me?"

She stopped stroking, keeping her hand wrapped around the base. She seemed to be talking to my cock when she replied, "I-I've already told you more about me than I've ever told anyone else."

"You're asking me to make you my thrall. I think I deserve to know the reasons you're asking. All of them."

"I can't," she said in a quiet voice, her eyes never leaving my crotch.

"I don't understand. As my thrall, I would be able to read your mind and probe your memories and know everything about you."

"Then make me your thrall and you'll find out," she replied, turning her head and looking in my eyes.

"Frankie, untie me."

"No. Not until you promise to make me your thrall."

"Frankie, I'm not going to agree while I'm restrained. Let me up."

She shook her head. "No. You'll just leave if I do that."

"I won't leave until I hear everything you have to say. I promise."

She looked at me. "How do I know you're not just saying that so I will release you?"

"If you're willing to trust me not to abuse you as my thrall, I think you can trust me to keep my word when I tell you I won't leave until I hear you out."

"Alright, I'm sorry," she said as she reached for the cuff on my right wrist and unbuckled it.

Neither of us said a word as she released the two cuffs on my ankles while I unfastened the cuff on my left wrist. The silence itself spoke volumes of the strong emotion she was feeling. Once I was freed, I sat beside her on the edge of the bed and put my arm around her shoulder.

"What's really bothering you?" I asked.

A tear ran down her cheek and she let it fall onto the bed.

She stared at the floor and spoke quietly. "Something happened when I saw the way you kissed Bailie in that video."

"You told me you were jealous of her," I noted, brushing her cheek.

"It was more than that. I saw how deeply you loved her. I know that was the reason why you got so angry at me afterwards when Bailie saw the selfie and left you. That's when I realized you would never have the love for me that you have for her; or that I would never have you all to myself. I felt so alone--and vulnerable."

"Frankie, I--"

She turned to me. "No. Let me finish. All my life, I grew up without anyone to protect me, to watch over me, or make me feel loved. I've never felt like I belonged, I was always an outsider. I've survived by fending for myself, stealing food, clothes, money, even birth control pills. I developed a tough bitch persona to stay alive and to keep me from being used and abused. But it's just an act, and I don't know how much longer I can keep it up."

Another tear escaped from her eye and ran slowly down her cheek. "But in the short time I've known you, you've treated me better than anyone I've ever met."

"That can't be true. What about Kayla and all the other girls here? They adore you," I pointed out.

She gave me a sad smile. "They're just a bunch of horny cunts. Yeah, they are like family to me, but they've never protected me the way you did with Marge. You treated me with kindness after I tried to humiliate you with the deflowering ceremony. You helped me after I took advantage of you when we spread that rumor about the devil doll. You even forgave me when I sent the selfie and broke things up between you and Bailie."

Another tear ran down her cheek, and I hugged her tighter.

"There. That hug. That's what I'm talking about," she said, as I wiped away the tear.

"What do you mean? Did I miss something?"

"It was the hug. Whenever I feel weak and vulnerable, you comfort and protect me. You're not even aware that you're doing it, it just comes naturally to you. I love that. I need that. It's one of the reasons I love you. I know your heart belongs to Bailie and you will never love me the way you love her--"

"Fran--"

"Ross, please. I'm willing to give you up for her, but don't you see? Being your thrall is the next best thing. I can have your support and protection, and you can be in love with Bailie at the same time." Tears were streaming down her face as she smiled at me.

I brushed her wet cheeks with my hand. "But you said you loved me--"

"Which is why I'm letting you go. All I ask in return is that you not to let

me

go," she replied.

"Won't it bother you that I would be able to read your thoughts at any time? Wouldn't you rather have a little privacy even in your own head?" I asked.

"You're my closest confidant, the only one I ever told about my sister. You can practically read my mind now, so mind-reading me as a thrall won't bother me in the least. Lately, most of those thoughts I have are about what you can do with this guy," she smiled, stroking my erection.

I should have stopped her from pumping me, but given the conversation, it would have seemed like a form of rejection. It also felt really good.

"I need to think about this, it sounds too extreme. We've only known each other for a couple of weeks and you have your whole life ahead of you. You should find someone who loves and appreciates you for who you are without invading your thoughts or taking total control of your body."

She pumped faster. "I'll never find anyone who comes close to you, we both know that. My whole life has been nothing but going from one extreme to another. At least now I have someone who actually gives a damn about me, and I don't want to lose that."

"I don't know, Frankie. I'm worried that you're giving me too much power and control over you. You have no idea what this thing inside me can do. I don't want to hurt you."

She was still stroking me as she stood up and straddled my lap, reaching around my neck with her free hand and drawing her lips close to mine.

"You won't, because I know you. You could have stopped me from making you horny and used your powers to get out of those restraints any time you wanted to. You could have used your dream-walking power to arouse Bailie and give herself up to you, but instead, you were kind to her and helped her to believe in herself. And even now, here I am, on your lap, desperately horny and stroking your cock, despite the fact that you already told me you weren't in the mood for sex, but you haven't pushed me away."

"Frankie, I--"

She didn't let me finish as she pressed her mouth against mine and lightly bit my lower lip, before pushing me back onto the bed.

"Besides, I like it rough. As your thrall, you can use me anytime that beast inside you wants to come out and play. I'll enjoy it. I think you would, too," she said as she held my cock and raised herself up, pressing my tip between her labia.

I should have stopped her for Bailie's sake, if nothing else. But the teasing and the stroking had gotten to me, or to the incubus within me. Was I really that weak that she could manipulate me so easily?

"Please don't--Ohhh!" I moaned, as I watched and felt my erection disappear inside her. She was so wet that a couple lines of her musky fluid dripped down the sides of my cock as she descended.

She arched her back and moaned at the ceiling as I slowly filled her, until I felt her firm butt cheeks resting on my upper thighs.

"Oh, fuck. This feels so good," she moaned as she squeezed me.

It was like she had a direct link to my inner demon. I growled as I grabbed her ass and started thrusting into her.

"Yes! Yes! Yes!" she screamed, as she ground her clit against my pubis to my thrusts. It took us a few seconds to coordinate our rhythms, but soon she was matching me thrust for thrust. Clenches and twitches came in abundant supply as we fell into a blistering pace by an unspoken mutual consent. We had both built up so many strong emotions over the past hour, that our release came in the form a frenzied passion. I was her bucking bronco to her saddle-strapped cowgirl.

Minutes passed and were both still thrusting hard and fast as if somehow, I could push all my demonic urges out of me and into her, and she could force even more of me inside. The only sounds in the room were the slap-slap-slapping of skin on skin and the back-and-forth chorus of moans and heavy breathing.

After a while, a thin sheen of perspiration coated her skin, and her nipple rings flapped against her areolas as she continued to ground herself against me. Her clenches were getting stronger and closer together, as were my twitches. Our arousals were peaking, and our releases were fast approaching.

"Come with me," she gasped after a longer series of tight clenches.

Her words and the sight of her aura cresting was all that my demon-self needed. My sack swelled and tingled, and I thrust extra hard as she started to cum.

"Oh, shit!" she screamed. She arched her back and crushed on my cock as it expanded inside her.

"Gaahh!" I replied as my back arched, and I pressed her hips against me.

We held that position as I pumped my warm jizz into her clenching core. We were both still cumming when she collapsed onto my chest and I made a few late-coital thrusts as our orgasms were winding down.

We stayed like that, Frankie's head on my shoulder, until we had both recovered. Then she turned her head and kissed me on the lips.

"Thank you,"

she whispered, as she climbed off me.

"Was your plan to tie me down and edge me until I agreed to make you my thrall?" I asked quietly, as I got up and started to get dressed.

She looked hurt by the question. "I hope you give me more credit than that. I tied you down because I was afraid you'd leave before I had a chance to say what I wanted to say. I felt vulnerable, and restraining you gave me a sense of control. I guess in a way, I'm already under your power, this was the only way I felt you would take me seriously."

I nodded sadly in acknowledgement.

"So, you'll do it? You'll make me your thrall?" she asked.

"I didn't say that. I only said I would consider it. I understand your reasons, but it sounds so... I don't know, inhuman? Confining? I'm already feeling too 'demonic' as it is. Doing this will only make me more of an evil monster. Maybe there are other repercussions I need to consider. For example, if I make you my thrall, does that also mean that I steal your soul? If so, then the answer is 'no'."

"According to Mage Lutien, making me your thrall has nothing to do with my soul. That's something different, although there's not a lot of detail about that. Apparently, demons can consume souls whether or not the person is a thrall. But he doesn't say how that happens," she replied.

"I'd like to borrow that book and read more about what succubae and incubi can and cannot do before I give you my decision."

She readily handed me the book. "Here, take it. However, it's due tomorrow. I've already received a notice on my cell phone that another borrower is looking for it, so penalties are doubled if it's late," she explained.

"Oh, I know all about the penalties, I work at the library, remember? I'll drop it in the return bin just before my 8 o'clock class tomorrow morning. Then I'll get back to you about this enthrallment stuff. I'm a little afraid of it, to be honest, but I promise you I would give it some serious thought. In the meantime, I'm hoping you'll think about it too, and maybe change your mind."

"I won't. I'm sure about this, and about you," she said, giving me a kiss on the cheek.

"Oh my God, a kiss on the cheek! Next, you'll be giving me a friendship bracelet," I joked as I finished dressing.

"Oh, fuck off, Zucchini Boy," she replied, trying to suppress a giggle.

As I walked back to Tina's house, I thought about the reasons for Frankie's request. She always seemed so decisive and resolute. All those years of fending for herself had hardened her and made her that way, or so I thought. I was surprised to learn about her self-doubt and how vulnerable she felt. I had no idea she was wrestling with her own demons. I guessed we had that in common. We were both broken people.

I spent most of the night trying to get through as much of the 250-page book as I could. When I was too tired to see the words on the page, I Googled Mage Sean Lutien to find out as much as I could about him, but there was nothing. As my eyes were closing, I remembered thinking that there was something odd about that name that I just couldn't put my finger on...

***

It felt like I had just closed my eyes when I smelled the definite aroma of pussy, and not just any pussy. My body recognized its owner before my brain did. I opened my eyes and saw the Greek Letters Beta and Iota tattooed into the mound of skin in front of me.

"Marge Collinsworth?" I asked, connecting the smell to a name.

"Keep going, Zucchini Boy. I'm starting to get close."

I looked up and saw a flat, toned stomach, two large attractive breasts, and the face of Marjorie Collinsworth framed by a gorgeous head of blonde hair.

"You look... different. You've lost weight!" I remarked.

From my vantage point between her legs and looking up at her face, it looked like she had lost close to 70 pounds. I propped myself up to get a better view. Her legs were muscular and shapely with silky smooth skin. Her hips were perfect, wide but not excessively so. But looking across the room, there was Frankie sitting in a chair, watching, except it didn't look that much like Frankie. She was enormously fat with legs the size of tree trunks and puffy arms that could barely be contained in the arms of the chair she was sitting in. She had an unhappy, seething look on her face, apparently jealous of the attention I was giving to Marge.

"No more 'large Marge' now, right Zucchini Boy? Look at that fat thing over there. Look how insanely jealous she is of me and my body. Oh, how she wishes this was her getting eaten out by the best pussy licker on campus," she gloated.

"Is that what this is all about? Humiliating a rival? Don't you have bigger aspirations than that? Marge, with everything you have going for you, why are you so fixated on Frankie? In the big scheme of things, why are you so concerned with her?" I asked.

Marge looked down at me with a surprised expression.

"What?... How?... You're not supposed to..." she sputtered before regaining some composure, "I don't like to lose, especially to her. She humiliated me in front of the entire sorority. I hate her, and she needs to suffer for what she did to me."

"Is Frankie really that important to you that you need to spend so much of your talents and intelligence taking revenge on her? Don't you see? She hasn't humiliated you as much as you've humiliated yourself by making her such a big focus of your waking and sleeping hours. Look around you. You're even dreaming revenge in your sleep," I pointed out.

"But... you... you're not supposed to lecture me. You're my slave, my pussy slut. You're supposed to worship my cunt and bow to my every whim," she declared, still shocked by the conversation.