The Lonely Incubus

Chapter 1 - Involuntarily Incubus

Growing up as an Incubus is exactly as uncomfortable as it sounds.

The other kids tend to exclude you. And even the teachers keep their distance, on the off chance your magic makes them do something that gets them put on the sex offender registry.

Another thing: when the other kids pick on you and call your mom a whore? They're not even wrong. Your mother is, undeniably, definitionally, a whore. And there's no denying it. This actually gets worse with age, since when they grow up and say things like 'I fucked your mom last night.', there's a good chance it really happened. And an even likelier chance it will happen again.

But the absolute worst part of being an Incubus?

You are horny.

You are horny

ALL.

THE.

FUCKING.

TIME.

They've actually done studies showing that households with Incubi children go through, on average, 10 times the amount of lotion and tissues as the average family. This has had a shockingly noticeable impact on the socioeconomic status of Incubi households.

But here's the thing. It's not all bad. Because if you're an Incubus, you have one thing going for you. The one ability that any human, monster, or demon would kill for.

Women adore you.

Men too if you're bi. It actually helps a lot of us discover our sexualities earlier than most.

But yeah. You'll get more girls than any guy could ever dream of. And hot ones too. You'll basically be a one man football team, both in terms of how wet girls get for you, and how many of them will get wet for you in a given year. They've actually had to start adding threesomes as a topic to Sex Ed classes because of this. Basically, if you're an Incubus, life is just one long conga of love, sex, and perpetual popularity.

Unless, of course, you're me.

{-----------------------------------------------}

I yawn, shambling downstairs toward the kitchen. I intended to pull an all-nighter to finish up some homework, but I ended up falling asleep mid-session. Which means I forgot to set my alarm. Which means I woke up late. Which means I had to cut some very crucial steps out of my morning routine.

Luckily for everyone else, I elected to shower instead of jerking off.

Believe me, it was a hard sacrifice to make.

As I groggily fry myself some eggs, the sudden, distinct scent of cherry perfume fills the air. I sigh. It is far too early for this.

"Good morning, Isaac, sweetie!" My mother nearly sang. I turn to look. I always regret it when I do.

Luckily today wasn't too bad. She stood in a jet black, low cut nightgown. The frills at the hem sparkled to accentuate her wide hips, which always seemed to threaten any fabric that dared try to contain them. Similarly, her huge, round tits teased the upper end, her hardened nipples revealing the obvious fact that the nightgown was likely all she was wearing. Like I said, I've seen her in worse.

She smiled lovingly, snapping a fallen shoulder strap back up as she planted a very unwanted kiss on my cheek.

"Morning." I groan in return, as she fixed herself some coffee. I loved my mother. I truly did. But she was always so energetic in the morning. She actually only drinks decaf, since she already has the best stimulant in the world.

"Oh, Isaac." She fawned, crossing a leg over the other at the table as she took a long, appreciative sip. "Last night was amazing."

Succubi and Incubi alike feed off of sexual energy. Or, we can. Technically, a balanced diet only consists of about 30% sex. And you can actually survive entirely off of food as long as you masturbate consistently. 'Going virgin' is similar to going vegan, except instead of health benefits, you just get called a loser.

So as you can imagine, a succubus stripper/escort/recreational homewrecker basically never needs to rest.

"That's nice, Mom." I flatly respond.

She frowns, letting out a disappointed sigh. "Mm... you never ask me how my night at work was."

"Mom, there is quite literally nothing I'd like to know less about."

"Suit yourself, hon." She sets down her mug, labeled 'MILF' in big black letters. I suppose it's technically in the same ballpark as 'World's Greatest Mom', but in all the wrong ways possible. "So, how's school? You keeping up with your studies?"

"Like I do anything else." I sit down myself, slowly scarfing down what should have been part of a balanced breakfast.

"I wish you did more. I'm happy you take school so seriously but... there's other things boys your age should be doing." She smirked, bouncing her eyebrows a little. My breath catches for a moment, but I stifle the reaction, twirling my fork as I glance away.

"I... I like studying, okay?"

"Your father did too." She stared dreamily up at the ceiling. "I remember him helping me with my chemistry homework."

"I thought you majored in dance."

"I did. But, he sure taught me some chemistry that night." She chuckled. "Mm, you could even say we learned everything there was to know about chemistry."

"Yeah, I got it."

"You know, I would've gotten an A, but he was too busy giving me the D."

"Alright bye mom!" My littered plate rattles as I stand. I quickly snatch up my backpack and rush out the door.

She blinks, thoughtlessly, before waving. "Have a nice day!" She then leaned back in her seat, draining the mug of its last drops.

{-----------------------------------------------}

6 out of every 10 Succubi has been a sex worker at least once in her life. 9 out of 10 if you count selling nudes in high school as independent contracting. However, most work normal jobs. In fact, a larger share of Succubi have college degrees than the average woman. This has correlated with increasing numbers of school board scandals.

But as both an Incubus, and an unusual one at that, I had little choice but to enroll myself at the Chimera University of Magic.

I grip the straps of my backpack, slipping into the crowd of creatures bustling to and from their classes. The 'Chimera' in the school's name is a reference to its 'foundational commitment to diversity and inclusion.' Which means brownie points for the school staff, and a whole menagerie of hotties for us.

Any shape and size, we've got 'em right here.

Wanna be dominated by a muscular Dragon girl? You can find her benching in the gym.

Wanna get real freaky with a shapeshifting Slime? She sells coffee in the bookstore.

Wanna have boring vanilla sex with a boring Human? We've got them too!

Humans actually tend to outpace most creatures academically. Probably to compensate for the fact that they're kinda lame.

A flurry of loud flaps above me catches my attention; a flock of Harpies passing over the crowd. I see one of them, a golden-feathered blonde clad in her cheer uniform, hovering above as she chats with her red-headed friend. Unfortunately for her, the dumb blonde and bird brain stereotypes seem to have combined to make her extra air-headed. Hovering above a crowd of college students in a skirt is just begging for your panty shots to be in every guy's photo gallery by Noon.

My gaze flicks down to the crowd. No one has noticed yet. I consider feigning the same. It would be the right thing to do, after all.

But on the other hand...

My eyes flicker back up. The way her tiny, pleated skirt bounces and sways with every wing flap. The way her smooth, pale thighs caress one another before spreading just barely when she adjusts the grasp on her books. I just can't help myself. And as the two girls burst into laughter, her skirt and legs parting in perfect sync, my eyes widen as I get my first eyeful...

Of textbooks, that is. The impact nearly knocks me out, the hardcover bouncing back up as I fall to the ground, before nailing me right in the balls.

I groan, holding my former hard-on as the blonde touches down at my feet. "Oh my god! I'm so sorry!" She frantically asks, helping me up. "Are you ok!?" She then gasps, pausing to stare.

"You... you're an Incubus. Aren't you?"

I try to regain my composure, pretending I wasn't just trying to peep up her skirt. "Uh, yeah. I am."

She cradles her books, biting her lip as her pupils narrow.

We stood there in awkward silence for a moment. When whatever she was expecting failed to occur, her interest quickly fades. "Hm." She frowned.

"...so..." I begin.

"Uh, sorry again. I gotta go." And before I can utter another word, she launches back up into the sky, the gust tossing back onto my ass.

I should probably mention now what my problem is. See, I have a rare birth defect. We call it 'Anticoital Sinpheromosis'. See, a normal Incubus can activate a woman's primal sexual appetite just by exuding this magical aura into the air. This is also the force that allows him to extract energy from her arousal. My body cannot produce this aura. The opposite condition, 'Coital Hyperpheromosis', has resulted in what have been called 'mass orgies' or more commonly, 'the most depraved, disgusting event I've ever seen'.

So, ok. I don't get a free pass with women. Big deal, right? Well, thing is, I happen to have terrible luck with women. For whatever reason, no matter what I try, or how long I try it, I never saw any action my whole life. Is it me? Is it them? Am I too short? Too boring? Should I work out?

All questions no Incubus should ever even have to ask.

Do I feel cheated out of a life that should've been my birthright? Yes. Does it upset me?

Well, that's a hard one. Of course I want sex. What young guy doesn't fantasize about having the hot, curvy college girls in his class stripped down and bouncing on his cock? Let alone a guy like me!

But sometimes you gotta just accept how things are. And I've managed to get through life just fine with porn and good old imagination.

Plus, when you don't have cool sex powers, an actual girlfriend is only like 10% sex and 90% work. No girl is worth that much effort. And I don't have much effort to give.

I enter my class, quietly slumping down in my chair at the very back. I rub my hands across my face, recovering from the pain and embarrassment that seems to always accompany me. But I then hear a familiar, charming laugh.

There, sitting on a table, smile sweeter than sugar itself, is Chrys. Her short, brown locks are a perfect mess, gorgeous chaos made all the better by the stems and pink-petaled flowers tangled in them. Denim shorts hugged her thick, pillowy thighs, dotted by the same freckles that no doubt graced every inch of her curves. Just one glimpse and I could never seem to pry my eyes off her. Luckily I managed to catch her in a particularly talkative mood today, so I could afford to ogle just a bit longer. But a sudden lull made her lean back, and her gaze wandered directly into mine.

I froze.

She smiled.

"Good morning, Isaac." She rang, tilting her head. My face flooded with warmth, goosebumps rippling across me. I can't believe a girl like her remembered my name. I can't believe she even made eye contact with me!

"M- morning, uh, Chrys!" I stutter, what little composure I had crumbling under her watch.

"How was your weekend? You been studying?"

Shit. I have, but I don't know if she thinks that's cool.

"Uh... y- yeah." I admit, my tail flicking nervously. "You?"

"I've been reading up here and there. But my friends are always dragging me out to parties. You know how it is."

"Hah. Yeah. Of course." Yeah, right. I had no idea how it was. I've never even been to a party before. Especially not the awesome, wild, hot pots of liquor, drugs, and casual sex that hot college girls get invited to.

She glanced to make sure no one was watching, before looking back at me. She rocked back, hopping to her feet, her full tits bouncing hypnotically in her tight t-shirt. My heart leaps into my throat, every step she makes matching a pulse, making it harder and harder not to vomit.

I felt the whole world disappear around me as she came to stand at my desk, arms cutely crossed behind her back. She leaned down, the warmth of her whispers on my nose making me shudder.

"Hey, I know you're kinda shy, but..." She looks back toward her friends, seeing them still ignoring us, and laughs a little. "If you're ever looking to have some fun partying, feel free to show up sometime. Don't worry, I'll vouch for you." She winks, making my stomach somersault. "So... see you around sometime?" She asks, batting her feathery lashes.

"Y- yeah! For sure!" I manage to choke out. "Uh... Thanks..."

Her smile grows. And then she does something I could never have prepared for. For just a brief moment, in what was undoubtedly a simple act of friendliness, her soft, delicate fingers grasped my shoulder. My mind instantly scattered from the contact.

She then pulled it away, spinning on a heel, and sauntering her swaying hips back to her seat.

I've had my eye on a fair share of girls over the years. But Chrys was something else. Smart. Sweet. Genuine. Innocent.

And a total slut.

See, Chrys is a Nymph. Spirits of nature, guardians to all living things, and one of the few creatures with the libido to rival a Succubus.

They don't feed off the energy like we do. They just like to fuck. A lot. The more pretentious ones will go on and on about how 'it's the way nature intended' or some bullshit. But at the end of the day, Nymphs want to get dicked down and they don't really care why.

A Nymph is theoretically the perfect partner for any Incubus looking to branch outside his own.

Now, maybe it's just my virginity speaking. Or insecurity. Or Jealousy.

But there's something that makes my insides churn when I think of a girl like Chrys living that way.

Those same lips she uses to flash me welcoming smiles, wrapped around some guy's monster cock.

That same melodic voice she uses when she calls my name, moaning and begging as she gets railed, bent over some other guy's bed.

Those adorable, precious freckles on her face and thighs, dripping with some third guy's hot, sticky, dripping load.

Every guy in school has probably been balls deep inside her by now. Everyone but me.

Yeah. It's probably jealousy.

But so be it. This is just how things are. I can live with being a virgin. I can live with the girl of my dreams getting her pussy pounded every night while I can only fantasize about it.

It's fine. I'm fine.

Or, at least, I was.

As class began, my mind still swirled from Chrys' touch. And after a few minutes of processing, something inside me shifted.

My eyes shot wide open, a ringing in my ears drowning out my thoughts. I grasped my chest, panting, heart beginning to pound and coil tight. My skin rippled and seared with a dull phantom of pain. I began to shake, grasping at my arms, my shoulders, my head, until the sensation spread to my lips.

What was happening to me!?

I sprang from my seat, stumbling over empty chairs as my whole world spun. People must have noticed by now, but even my anxieties paled to whatever this was.

I felt dizzy.

I felt hot.

I felt Cold.

Empty.

Pleasure.

Pain.

And then.

Nothing.

{-----------------------------------------------}

I groan awake, feeling the rustle of paper beneath me in an all white room. The silhouette of a figure comes slowly into focus.

"Easy now. You've been unconscious for a few hours." The woman comforted, the tail of her long, serpentine body lifting a clipboard to her hands. "Isaac, correct?"

"Uh. Yeah?" I wince, still groggy.

"Can you tell me what happened, Isaac?"

I try to recall.

"I... I don't know, I..." The feelings then return. I grasp my arms tight, gritting my teeth as I endure their pain once more. The nurse catches me as I fall, keeping me stable.

"Talk to me, Isaac. What is it?"

"M- my skin. My lips. They..."

"They what?"

"It's... it's like they're... crying out. Like they crave something. Like every second they don't have it is torture."

"Hm." She ponders. "'Crave', you say? Well, you are an Incubus..."

"No, you don't understand." I insist. "This is different. I was always..." I glance away, blushing. "...horny before. But... I've never craved it like this. I've never craved more than this. I've never craved... touch."

"Touch?"

"Yeah. Like... just imagining things isn't enough. It just makes me want more. Like... like I need to do it for real."

"Hm. I think I might know what this is." She remarks, giving her clipboard a quick once over. Nurses at schools like these have to be familiar with the biology of a wide variety of creatures. Even with the proper training, there's a lot of variables to track. Which is why providing detailed, personalized health records is very important.

"It says here you are a virgin?" She asks.

The words leave her mouth and strike me like an arrow. I nearly double over as my heart strains. But I nod.

"Have you ever kissed a girl?"

"N... no."

"Ever spoken to a crush? Even briefly?"

"Are you just making fun of me now?" I ask through a side eye.

She smiles, shaking her head. "Sex is a piece of a much larger puzzle. It is just one physical aspect in an entire world of affection. And as an Incubus, your body is designed to indulge in all of it."

I shift my weight, instinctively covering my crotch.

"Without any exposure at all," she continued. "...the depths of your feelings have likely been dormant all your life. But any intimate experience with a girl, even something slight... that has the potential of awakening the rest of your innate desire."

"So... you're saying I just want it... more?"

"A whole lot more. Whatever happened to you has opened up Pandora's Box. Your body got a taste of what it's been missing. And it's never going to let you hear the end of it."

I exhale, roughly running my fingers through my hair. I'm already anxious and aroused 24/7. I don't want this too. There has to be something. Anything.

"Is... is there anything you can do?"

She shrugged, flipping a page on her clipboard. "Not much."

I scoff with disappointment, head falling into my hands.

"Look. Do you want my prescription?"

I slowly look up at her, and then nod. She takes a deep breath, shaking her head as she stifles a laugh.

"You need to get laid."

{-----------------------------------------------}

I lie awake in bed, minutes stretching into hours as the night drags endlessly on. And the whole time, I can only think of one thing.

Girls.

Like I said, us Incubi are horny all the time. But as annoying as it can be for us, we get used to it. We think about ass and titties, jerk off, move on. Rinse and repeat. But this.

This is so much worse.

It's not just my dick anymore. My entire body is screaming, crying, begging just to feel a woman's skin rub against mine. To feel her fingers trail down by bare chest. To feel her hot, wet mouth explore my own. I don't just want it. I need it. And unlike before, not having it doesn't just leave me frustrated.

I'm in pain.

It hurts.

My skin.

My lips.

My heart.

They ache and burn with a passion that makes me want to scream.

I turn to the side, pulling my pillow to my chest to experience some semblance of sensation. I think of Chrys. I think of how it felt to see her smile. To hear her soft voice. To feel her hand on my shoulder.

But then, all of a sudden, my thoughts seem to warp. Her hand tightens, and her eyes blur.

"Hey, Isaac." I hear her purr. "Lonely tonight?"

As if in a trance, I nod.

"Aw. What a poor little boy you are. I bet you wish you could just fuck me already."

Her voice sounds so twisted. Malicious even. But they drive me further. I inch my pillow downward, beginning to hump it.

Chrys laughs.

"How cute. The pathetic little virgin making love to his pillow."

I grit my teeth, thrusting harder and faster.

"You wish that was me, huh? You wish that was any girl at all. But it's not. You don't even know what a girl feels like, do you?"