All characters are over 18. This is a work of fiction, and all characters, locations, and events are imaginary. This story was written for Halloween 2023, and is lighthearted fantasy; I was torn as to which category to post it in. I hope you enjoy it!
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Hey. Name's Jake, and I'm an incubus.
Well, my name's actually quite a bit longer than that, but nobody in this age of the world speaks proper Akkadian anymore, and Jake's close enough for your pea-brain to follow.
As for the incubus part, true fact, it originally just meant a sex demon that likes to be on top. Succubi are the ones who like to be on the bottom. Truth is, most of us switch it up anyhow, so the old meanings were never all that accurate.
Medieval Christianity being what it was, they figured anyone on top during sex was a man, so we're generally thought of as male demons, while the succubi are assumed to be female. That's a load of crap. We're demons. We're whatever the hell we want to be, and mostly we're intangible spirits who corrupt, possess, and/or influence people. I happen to mostly enjoy corrupting and possessing men, so I generally identify as an incubus, but honestly most of these labels aren't very precise or helpful. Come to think of it, that's true of a lot of other labels, too.
Also, just to be clear, sex demons aren't all the same in capacity or motivation or personality. You people love talking about angelic ranks and demonic hierarchies as if everything's a matter of titles or something. Look, my job doesn't define me, ok? Yes, I follow the rules, because not doing so leads to complications, but it's not because I'm a slave to some Dark Sovereign or whatever. And thinking that rank is the same as power or skill is just ridiculous. Haven't you ever had a boss who was objectively worse at everything than you?
Seriously, you mortals never got your heads out of the Middle Ages in so many ways. It's classism, is what it is.
So I was in one of those other places you mortals don't know a thing about, and I don't intend to enlighten you there (not my job), when I got a call. You people have all these stories about how you can summon us and force us to do your bidding, but it's more like waving a flashlight around in a dark forest, or dripping some blood in the ocean where sharks roam. We'll probably notice, and if we feel like it, we'll come and see what the fuss is about. And maybe we'll have a snack, too.
Anyhow, I came to check on the noise. This group of guys was drinking and smoking and they thought they'd be brave and read out loud from some of those books their parents and preachers warned them about. As dark rituals go, it was honestly pretty awful, and I wouldn't have even noticed except that I happened to be a bit bored and was looking for something to do, and I heard something a bit like my name.
No, not Jake. Try to keep up.
It happens that it was Samhain, or Hallowe'en, or whatever you think it should be called. Like I said before, labels aren't important. What's important is that there are times when the barriers between worlds are thinner, and this was one of them.
So these drunk idiots were trying to call up who-knows-what (they certainly didn't have a clue), and I figured, hey, I'm game, so I had a poke through their heads. Yes, of course I can read minds, what do you take me for? One of them, name of Jim, was pretty suitable, so I possessed him and took his body for a joyride. Mid 20s, tall, seemed to be in decent shape, and drunk as a skunk. All of them were drunk and/or high enough that his friends didn't even notice when Jimmy-boy started chanting a proper spell. An old one.
Look, I'm not going into details, but let's just say I made it easier for myself to settle in and be comfortable in my host. Like getting in a new car and adjusting the seat and mirrors, and choosing a good radio station. Enough said.
So I took my new body and pretended I got a text message on my phone and needed to leave, and waved good night to the other idiots. The new body didn't handle all that well at first, and I crashed into more than a few things as I got my bearings, but hey, he was drunk anyhow so it's not like the damage was out of keeping with his choices.
As I lurched off, I had a wander through Jimmy's memories, because a) I'm a sex demon and was looking for some action, obviously, and b) I mostly enjoy temptation, which requires a bit of character insight. The thing is, it's just not a lot of fun to outright force a possessed body to do what they don't want to do, and they tend to wake up if you try, which means fighting them instead of luring and deceiving. And, look, I'm not judging; some of my friends are still really into the whole victimizing-the-sleeping thing, which is classic sex demon stuff, and goes back to repression, and all those desires mortals won't admit to while they're awake. Some of us don't even bother with possession but just inspire mortals with sexy dreams, and, hey, whatever gets you off. You wanna spirit-fuck some comatose body, or inspire fantasies in someone's sleeping mind, who am I to judge?
Anyhow, me, I like a good seduction.
Point being, it's way more interesting to me, and frankly much easier with my skillset, to find stuff people want to do but won't let themselves, and help them along, than it is to make meat puppets dance, or render them comatose and fuck their secretly-horny but pretend-unwilling bodies.
Again, not judging. To each their own, I always say.
I wanted to get Jimbatron laid, in short, but not by fucking his girlfriend, if he even had one, because boooooring. And sure, I could probably just more or less force someone to fuck him, but where's the fun in that? No, I was looking for a proper good time, which meant rummaging around in Jameson's head to find someone he wanted to fuck but wasn't fucking.
So the body's memories showed me that Jiminator was single and shy, which gave me a good laugh. You fleshbags and your hangups. He had a crush on his neighbor, a hot little piece of ass named Sally around his age, and she seemed pretty into him too from what I could see, but he never made a move. Maybe she was with this loser named Greg, but it wasn't clear to Jimbo. OK, ok, this was promising. This, I could work with.
It was just about time to get things rolling. But I needed to figure out my approach.
Jimmy's personality was, to be blunt, pretty fucking boring. He had a good dose of typical chauvinism he inherited from his father, but he leavened it by wanting to be nice to people. The end result, predictably, was a guy who was a bit too fixated on white-knight fantasies where he saves some damsel in distress and is rewarded with sex. And honestly life doesn't work that way most of the time, and most women very reasonably think that's fucking pathetic, but hey, lucky for Jim-jiminy, I decided to make those dreams come true.
Real people-pleaser, me.
It was just a few hours after sunset, still plenty of time left for fun, meaning those idiots I left behind must have started drinking pretty early. Jimeroni's body was dressed in jeans and a T-shirt, which was fine, I guess, but not what was called for on Hallowe'en. As for the costume, a simple glamour would do, but I needed to see what Sally was up to before I made any decisions there.
Thankfully, Jimbobby's emotional connection to Sally was a bright shining thread that was child's play to follow, and she was just a few blocks away, at a party in somebody's yard. Huh, she was there with that Greg guy. Guess they were maybe seeing each other. I poked around a little in her head and saw that she liked Greg's confidence and was considering giving him a good fucking, if he played his cards right. But she also liked Jimathon and wished he weren't such a nebbish. Jackpot.
Sally was dressed in a sorta steampunk ensemble, with a corset, skirt, and fishnet stockings, and a tiny top hat. Not half bad, objectively, and she made an effort, which I appreciated. James sure liked the look of her, even second-hand; he probably thought he was just imagining her. His mind was in the metaphorical backseat and I let him watch as I drove around, and let him think he was in charge even, because hey, that's what I enjoy. Plus it's much funnier that way. If I'm honest about it, a lot of what I do is for the laughs.
Greg was wearing an ape costume with sunglasses and a captain's hat, and honestly it was shabby, and very five years ago. Even if I didn't want to wet Jimmy-baby's wick in some sweet Sally, and I assuredly did, I'd have had to get Greg out of the way just out of principle. What a loser.
Steampunk... ok, not a problem. I conjured up the appearance of a frock coat, vest, slacks, and top hat with goggles resting on the brim, plus a bandolier and flintlock, and crashed the party.
Some doofus in a Batman costume stopped me at the gate and wanted to know who I was, and I clouded his mind and didn't bother to reply or slow down as he staggered back in a daze. Look, don't have a bunch of people over in costumes and not expect randos to wander in, as a rule. I'm all about teaching life lessons. Real humanitarian, me.
Sally was drinking a light beer but she wanted a red wine instead, so I conjured two glasses of a sinfully delicious pinot noir and strode over to her.
"Hey Sally. You look like you'd enjoy something tastier than what you have." As opening lines go, it wasn't my best work, but hey, Jim-bob wasn't all that smooth an operator and I didn't want to throw her off.
"Jim! I didn't expect to see you. I never knew you knew Dave." Guess she meant Batman, but whatever. She put her beer down quickly and took the wine. She looked me over, and I could smell her interest, along with a dash of confusion. Also, Greg's nearby costume fucking reeked of sweat and desperation. Speaking of whom, he sidled up and put his hand on Sally's waist. I ignored him for the moment and focused on her.