My Incubus Lover
"It's inside me . . . it's cumming inside me," was the last thing I remember screaming before the dark, warm blanket of unconsciousness washed over me.
Note: I've taken some liberties with the Incubus mythology, knowing that, please read and enjoy.
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I need to preface my story by first telling you a little about myself.
My name is Abigail Singletary (old fashion I know, I was named after my great-grandmother), I am twenty-four, educated, born and reared in Houston, Texas from a good, stable family. We weren't overly religious, but there was a respect and belief in God that was always present during my upbringing. After graduating high school and moving away to college, I met Alan Overstreet, a young law student with whom I've had a long-term relationship.
In college, though my major was Business Administration, I had an interest in Sociology and took additional courses in religion along with cultural and ethnic folklore. During the summer before I started graduate school, my best friend Bren and I took a month long trip to Italy with plans to visit some of the small villages and churches we had studied and read about. One day while enjoying a driving tour of the countryside, we stopped at a small ancient little church on the outskirts of the village of Propensa. As we walked through the church, admiring the stained glass windows, the artwork and the artisanship that had gone into the building of the church, I saw an old woman seated near the altar overtly watching us. As Bren and I were leaving the church, the old woman approached us and taking my arm, led us over to one of the pews where she motioned for us to sit down.
To say I was surprised by what she had to say would be an understatement. The old woman told me to be watchful and to protect myself. She said that I should always say my prayers, go to church and confess any impure thoughts and deeds to my priest. She also warned me that even though I had a man, a lover (how'd she know that?) he would not be able to protect or shield me and that he could also fall victim to the demon.
At the sound of that word, I felt a cold sweat begin to form in the space between my shoulder blades. "Demon . . . what are you talking about?" I asked, wanting to get as far away from her as possible.
When I stood to leave, her gnarly hand took my arm and pulled me back onto the pew.
"The Incubus will masquerade as a handsome, young, lustful man, but be warned; the Incubus demon will come to you in the night and manipulate your mind, my child. In the beginning, you will experience its visits as dreams, but gradually you will have a sense of being awake and aware of what is happening, of what it is doing, but your mind, your body, your senses will seem sluggish and outside of your control. You will awaken in the night sensing the weight of someone on top of you, and you will be unable to move as though pinned down on your bed."
I looked at her in disbelief, as she continued,
"do not be fooled when at night you may think you feel someone or something touching you, seducing you, arousing you with sexual desire. To you, the sexual attention will feel just like that of a human lover but be wary; it will be the demon and not your lover. In time when it senses you are under its control and desire its touch, it will feel free to grope and fondle your breasts, and down there more aggressively, she said pointing between my legs."
"You must be watchful my child. His goal is your submission and ultimately to impregnate you. His domination can only be achieved when you no longer resist, when you surrender to him, when you lay on your back, spread your legs willingly offering him your body, inviting him. He is a monogamous lover, and once you invite him, he will assume a corporeal form, and he will know what sexually attracts and pleases you . . . the spiritual and physical sex will become all important to you.
He will continue to return to have sex with you, and you will begin to want it more and more, to want him, above all others even as he drains your sexual energy. In time, with your increased submission, his power to subjugate and humiliate you will also increase, and the demon will begin to use you and enjoy your body in ways that no human man could ever do."
"You must be watchful,"
were her last words.
Bren and I rose and walked hurriedly back to our car. I think we were both so shocked by what the old woman had said that all we could do was nervously laugh as we drove down the road to our next stop. That evening over dinner, we talked about the afternoon in the church and discounted it as just an old creepy woman trying to frighten us.
After a while, the old woman and the encounter at the church were forgotten.
*****
Alan and I had discovered the big, old Victorian house out on San Augustine Road one afternoon when we were leisurely driving around, exploring the area. It was six or seven miles outside of town and located almost a mile up a private road, isolated and in horrible condition. No one had lived in the house for several years, but we both looked at it and saw the potential. We bought the old house with the goal of remodeling and renovating, but quickly found ourselves in a lot more debt than we had anticipated.
Alan who was now a Detective with the local police department, more frequently than either of us liked was often required to work late or was called away some nights even after he came home. Despite this, every spare minute was put into working on the house and coupled with money concerns, stress levels on both our parts were running high. Even so, we loved and were fascinated with the old house and felt if we were careful and cautious with our time and spending, things would work out for the best, and the house would one day be a showplace.
Our first night in the house, around three o'clock in the morning, I awoke from sleep in a cold sweat. I had dreamt a man was raping me. I couldn't make out his face, and he never spoke, but I could feel him on top of me. I was paralyzed, unable to move, unable to make a sound. The assault seemed to go on for a long time. The last thing I remember was screaming, "he's inside me . . . he's cumming inside me," as I fought my way of the dream and woke up.
"Its ok, its ok, baby, Alan said soothingly as he held me and brushed the damp hair out of my face. You just had a bad dream." I drifted off to sleep again with my head on Alan's chest, his arms around me, and the lingering sensation between my legs of having had sex.
*****
I loved Alan very much. We'd been going together since college and had been living together for almost a year. Feeling secure in our relationship, over the last several months we'd begun talking about marriage. Alan was a very sexual, loving man and I took particular enjoyment in our lovemaking and never refused him not even when he would awaken during the night and want sex. He would start gently fingering me, which would wake me and get me wet enough for his penetration. One thing would lead to another, and we'd end up having sex and then drift off to sleep again, often with his wondrous dick still semi-hard between my legs.
Despite this being a beautiful house, there was something unsettling about it; but I couldn't quite put my finger on. I tried explaining to Alan how I sometimes felt as if I were being watched, and described the eerie sensations of being touched and caressed. Usually, it was just a light touch on my arm or behind, but other times it was more aggressive, and I would feel my breasts being cupped and squeezed or a hand under my skirt caressing my inner thigh and brushing across my private areas. A couple of times during that first week or so, strange and scary things happened. The most terrifying was the incident in the cottage house. I remember this so vividly because that was the first time, the first encounter with the demon. I tried telling Alan about what I had seen, but he, as always had a logical explanation.
I must admit it took me a day or two to get over what had happened in the cottage, but after that, things seemed to return to normal, until one evening when I was alone in the house and again experienced being sexually used by the demon.
I had just stepped out of the shower and was standing in front of the foggy mirror. I reached up to wipe away the moisture from the mirror, and for the briefest moment, I thought I saw the translucent shadow of a man standing behind me. Startled, I screamed and closed my eyes, but when I opened them again and looked into the mirror, there was no one there . . . I was alone in the bathroom.
I stood there, my mind racing. "Oh my god, was that a ghost I had just seen?" Standing there trying to understand what had happened I was suddenly grabbed, spun around and pressed against the wall. My towel was pulled away and dropped onto the floor as my legs were spread apart. After a moment of probing, he, it, whatever it was succeeded in pushing its cock into me. I could feel it's warm, moist breathe against my ear and hear its voice in my head repeating over and over, "Bitch . . . you're my good little bitch now, aren't you?"
I felt myself becoming lightheaded as strong fingers tightened around my neck; panicked I tore at its hands trying ineffectively to pry them from my neck. My eyes rolled back in my head as I came in an exquisitely intense orgasm. The demon literally had to hold me upright as it fucked in and out of my pussy until eventually ejaculating a thick, stream of ghostly cum into me.
