MARK OF THE INCUBUS
The following story contains sex acts between adults and teenagers of all genders. Some of the sex may happen under the influence of magic and might be dubbed non-consensual. Being forced to have sex against your will can be very hot in a fantasy, but would be dreadful in reality. Please always check in with your partners in real life to be sure everything you are doing is enthusiastically consensual (even if you are pretending to be an incubus thrall being magically coerced into sexual depravity by your master). This is also a lower tech fantasy setting where condoms are not readily available, and unprotected sex will abound. We are lucky in real life to have condoms that allow us to enjoy our sexual freedom without being afraid of STIs or unplanned pregnancies, so once again, please make enlightened decisions in managing your sexual health.
Any feedback is appreciated, and it's always wonderful to hear of people who got a good time from the story. You can reach me at queer_tribes@yahoo.ca.
Finally, if you have a thing for werewolves, smut, and some gore, feel free to check out my other story on Nifty, The Tenderness of Wolves:
http://www.nifty.org//nifty/gay/sf-fantasy/tenderness-of-wolves/
And now on with the incubus goodness. :)
Chapter 2 - Albert
It was Albert who had discovered the unconscious boy. He had wandered off in the forest in his search for purple moss, and a groan had drawn his attention. He had tentatively stepped in the direction of the sound, more curious than frightened, but careful nonetheless. He had found the injured, young man sprawled between the roots of an elder oak. Albert had immediately called Master Nicodemus, imitating to sound of an owl to do so. It would likely not attract unwanted attention, although anyone observant enough would realize owls were rarely heard in broad daylight. The sound he made echoed between leaves and branches, travelling much farther than most would have expected it could. It was a little trick Master Nicodemus had taught him. Master Nicodemus had taught him many things.
While Albert waited for his master to arrive, he took a closer look. The wounded boy seemed to be about his age, maybe a bit older, and he had a much bulkier frame. He had tousled, blonde hair, that seemed a bit long for most adherents of the Teachings, but not indecently so. A boy with a rebellious streak, maybe? A boy who got in trouble, it was most certain. His clothes, simple linen vestments that hinted at a humble upbringing, were stained with blood... and something else that formed a clear crust on the edge of his shirt, noticed Albert. `That looks like-- no way...' It reminded him of the residue his own seed left when he sometimes used his bedsheet to wipe himself clean, after indulging in some self-pleasuring very early in the morning, while his master was still asleep. Albert took a look at the boy's face; it had strong features, marked by acne, but many would find it attractive nonetheless.
"What in the forsaken Teachings are you staring at? The lad's bleeding to death, don't just stand there! Take off his shirt, find the wound, and put pressure on it."
Albert jumped when he heard Master Nicodemus' voice behind him. The old man had a knack for sneaking up on people. He obeyed hurriedly, lifting the bloodstained shirt off the boy's body. That's when he saw the Mark. He pulled his hand away as if he'd been bitten.
"He's a demon boy!", he gasped.
His master's hand flew and slapped him hard in the face.
"Don't you dare call him that! I've taught you better than to believe in this superstitious nonsense. He's human, like you, and he needs our help."
Albert's cheek was stinging, but not as much as his master's rebuke had. He was about to crouch again to take off the boy's shirt when he suddenly noticed a flock of birds leaving the canopy in the distance, startled by something - intruders in the forest.
"We have company, Albert. Quick, give us a concealment spell. I'll take care of the poor sod."
Albert nodded, although the reprimand he had just received still upset him. He rummaged through the leather sack slung across his shoulder. He was good enough to conceal his own presence with no need for reagents, and Master Nicodemus could obviously take care of himself, but hiding the injured boy would require a thing or two to help the energies flow around them. He pulled out a dried toad carcass; he concentrated, and it caught fire in his hand. The flames did not harm him - they were his. He hurried and circled the oak, allowing the fumes from the burning toad to surround the three of them, completing his spell. Almost no one could find them now - and if one among the trespassers could, they were in more trouble than what Albert could handle on his own.
"Your technique has improved", commented his master. "I thought it would take you longer than this. As long as you're not cutting corners."
But Albert knew his spell was impeccable. Concealment was an area of magic where he almost approached his master in ability, although he was certain the old fox had a trick or five up his sleeves in that regard.
"How is he?", asked Albert.
"He was shot from behind. He's lost a lot of blood, but thankfully the bullet missed his kidney. But he's in a sorry shape."
His master was almost done bandaging the wound already. As he finished, they heard voices in the bushes, twenty or thirty paces away from them.
"I can't believe that damned Anathema made it that far into the forest with a bullet in his back."
"The demon filth is strong. We need to be careful. There's blood here. And footsteps in the mud there. He went this way."
Albert saw three Red Cloaks emerge from the underbrush. They looked all around them, scanning the woods, but they never even glanced at the master and his apprentice. Then they took a left, presumably in search for more tracks, and they disappeared behind a thicket of spruce trees.
"The Small Inquisition", murmured Nicodemus. "It could be worse, but they won't give up easily. They are persistent."
"What are we going to do?"
"I'll go keep these men busy, and lure them far away from here. I may be gone for a while. As for you, you will stay and give our friend here what he needs to heal. Build a shelter; he'll need rest, and the two of you will be more comfortable for what needs to be done. Besides, there's a storm coming."
Albert looked up. The sky was blue, and the sun was shining. Not a single cloud was in sight.
"Understood. But Master... I don't know healing spells. How am I supposed to help him?"
"He's an incubus. They draw power from sexual energy, and they can perform sexual healing, including on themselves. You'll need to give him the sexual energy he needs. The more you give him, the better. Do what needs to be done."
Albert's eyes grew wide.
"I can't have sex with him!"
His master's hand flung, and he hit Albert again, on the back of the head. The apprentice winced in pain; his ears were ringing.
"His life depends on it! Do you want him to die? You will do what must be done, and I will not hear another complaint from your part."
Albert lowered his head, and glanced at the injured boy.
"Yes, master."
When he looked back though, his master was already gone. Nicodemus had a knack for disappearing acts also.
Albert got to work. He lied the wounded boy down in a more comfortable position, on an elevated spot to keep him safe from any rain. Truth be told, he was still wary of touching the incubus. `Master is right, these are just superstitions. He's not a demon', he tried to convince himself. He shook his head, focusing on the task at hand, trying to avoid thinking for now about what he had to do to help the boy heal. He gathered spruce branches to create a makeshift shelter. Despite his worries, he cleared his mind, and he worked with a deft precision that would have impressed the casual observer. Within minutes, he had put together a good enough shelter around the unconscious boy that would protect the two of them from vagrant weather. It was a good thing he did. As Master Nicodemus had predicted, dark clouds were already massing in the sky, brought quickly about by a southern wind.
Albert ducked into the shelter, and he stared at the boy. Truth be told, he found him far from being unpleasant to look at. This had not been the first time that he had enjoyed looking at an attractive boy. In fact, he noticed them more easily than he did girls. But he found it difficult to reconcile himself with the situation - being forced to have sex with an unconscious person who just happened to also be an incubus.
The apprentice was not ignorant of sex, unlike many young people who learnt nothing of it thanks to the Teachings. Master Nicodemus abhorred ignorance, and when Albert had been of a suitable age, his master had explained in details what sex was, and what it could entail - for a man and a woman together, but also for two men, and for two women. The explanation had been rather embarrassing, although also fascinating in its own way. In all honesty, they had inspired quite a number of fantasies for those moments Albert spent touching himself. Nicodemus had also mentioned self-pleasuring, and he had insisted it was a normal thing to do, especially for a boy Albert's age, although he had been clear that he expected... discretion from his pupil's part in that regard.
So Albert was not ignorant in the practicalities of the "task" his master had assigned him. He had never had any kind of sex with another person, however. Needless to say, he never thought his first time with someone with occur under such vexing circumstances.
`Stop hesitating. He could die if you don't do this.'
The injured boy already had his shirt off, as Master Nicodemus had not bothered putting it back on after bandaging his wound. Albert reached for the trousers, undid them, and tugged them off as gently as he could. He stared at the boy's soft member, at his sandy pubic bush. He had never seen another person's cock before, except for other children's when he had been a kid himself. Albert's mouth was dry, and there was a lump in his throat. There were stirrings in his own manhood. Was it just because he liked other boys, or was it the incubus' supernatural influence? He shook his head. He had to do this, no matter his feelings. He put away his sack, removed his own robes, and then his undergarments. He tucked them in the corner of the shelter, opposite to the boy's bloodstained clothes. Albert was keenly aware of his nakedness. His master's words echoed in his head: `Do what needs to be done.'
He lied next to the boy. He hesitated a moment, then he pressed their naked bodies together. He brought his mouth to the unconscious boy's lips, and he kissed them softly. Albert was startled though when the boy responded by moving his lips to kiss him back.
"Are you awake? I... I'm Albert", he whispered. "I know what you are. I just want to help you."
He had no reply, but the incubus' member had begun hardening against his own. Albert resumed his kissing, and the boy's lips became alive again against his own, weak, a bit cold, but reacting nonetheless. Albert wondered of it was an incubus reflex, to respond to sexual touching even when unconscious. He was embarrassed - it was such a queer situation. Yet there was something about the contact that emboldened him. He kept kissing, and he began grinding his cock against the boy's now hard tool. His own body tingled with pleasure. He was almost fascinated by the experience.
"So that's what that feels like...", he breathed.
He sat up. Curious, he held both penises in his hands, and he compared them. His was longer, but the incubus' cock had more heft to it. The two of them were cut; Albert had been born to a family that followed the Teachings, and he had not been spared their blades. He figured it had been the same for the boy. He began stroking both cocks unhurriedly. The boy's lips had been cold, but his member was warm, and it twitched and throbbed along with his heartbeat. Albert spat in his hand. He used his saliva to make it more slippery, and he focused his attentions more to the tip of his dick, where the most sensitive part was. He played with the large, mushroom-shaped end, running his fingertips over it, rubbing the underside of the head with his thumb. He himself enjoyed such touches when he masturbated, and he thought of putting into practice the knowledge he had gleaned from his own solitary experiments. The young incubus stirred, and a soft moan escaped his lips.
Albert wondered how far he had to take this. How could he know if this was working or not? Was he supposed to feel anything special if he was succeeding in giving the incubus sexual energy? He stroked both himself and the boy as he pondered the situation. What he was doing was far from being the most sexual of acts he could think of. Incubi and succubi were legendary for their sordid debauchery, after all. This incubus boy would probably laugh off his timid ministrations were he conscious. Albert knew men could penetrate each other; he had even been quite curious about this aspect of his own body - he often inserted a slippery finger or two in his hole when he masturbated. He enjoyed probing himself that way while he rubbed his penis all the way to orgasm. Now, there were only two ways this could go: either he entered the incubus, or he straddled the boy and took the aroused phallus inside his own body. Albert could not see himself penetrating an unconscious boy. He could excuse everything else he did on the grounds that the boy was an incubus in need of sexual energy to heal a grievous wound. He could not, however, get out of his head the notion that actually taking the boy with his cock would be rape. So Albert would have to be the one offering his own opening. He should have been rather distraught at the thought, and yet - it was weirdly appealing.
Albert reached for his leather sack, and he fished out a vial of hemp oil he carried with him; he knew a number of spells for which it was a clever reagent. He also occasionally used it when he wanted something more effective than his own spit to lubricate his member when he masturbated. He removed the stopper from the bottle, and he poured a generous helping of oil in the palm of his hand. He began oiling up the incubus' shaft, using his two hands to spread around the oil and to inflict what he hoped was a pleasant massage. Albert had been the kind of boy adults constantly reminded not to touch anything; he was always picking up stuff, playing around with everything, especially things people did not want him to play with. Now he found it difficult to stop fondling the boy's engorged manhood, especially now that it was so well lubricated, so easy to rub and pleasure. It was almost hypnotic, the way it commanded his attention. A tinge of guilt gnawed at Albert. Now that he had this naked, aroused boy at his disposition, he was drawn into satisfying his sexual curiosity; the sensations in his loins and his need to explore this were stronger than the awkwardness of the situation. He had looked at other boys so often, but now he had one he could touch, and he could do whatever he wanted. Albert couldn't shake off the feeling it was wrong to indulge in this. Yet a soft whimper escaped the incubus' mouth; the marked boy didn't seem to dislike the touch. The noises he made encouraged the apprentice not to stop. Albert wondered what it would be like when the thick member entered him. He brought his oily fingers to his own hole, pushing them through his tightness, making it slippery, helping it relax. He looked at the boy's face; his lips were agape, and he breathed softly. He seemed innocent, at peace.
"You're going to be my first", said Albert in quiet murmur.
He had been shocked when Nicodemus had first told him to have sex with the boy. Then he had been reluctant, hesitating to start this. But now that they were touching in such an intimate way, Albert's entire body was humming, vibrating with the sexuality of what they were doing.
Suddenly, he let go of the incubus' cock, and withdrew is fingers from his hole. He inched away from the boy.
`Is he making me do this? Is there some power influencing me?'
As if to answer the apprentice's silent question, or in reaction to the abrupt end to the sexual stimulation, the incubus let out another whine. It sounded imploring this time, as if, even unconscious, the boy was begging Albert to do this. The need in the sound made Albert's rod's quiver, and the apprentice felt a surge of precum rise to the tip of his cock, dripping out. The fluid was almost as abundant as one spurt from an ejaculation. He looked at the incubus' member; it was oozing with even more enthusiasm, adding its juices to the oils Albert had applied. The apprentice was mesmerized. He touched the tip of the boy's cock with his finger, and he brought a big drop of precum to his lips. He tasted it, and the salty elixir made him tremble and squirt out even more precum. He touched some of the incubus' natural lubrication again, but this time he brought it to his hole. The moment the liquid touched his sphincter, a warmth spread to it, and Albert felt his opening relax completely; he couldn't hold back a whimper. Now all he wanted was to feel his hole spread open to welcome to incubus' generous tool.
`He's making me do this. Everything about him is making me do this. He's not even conscious, and I can't stop myself.'
Albert realized he didn't care about stopping himself either. Why should he put up a fight? He had wanted a boy with whom to explore these things for a long time, he realized. The incubus was beautiful, looking both strong and vulnerable in its sleep. The apprentice's own body and mind had so many needs, so many urges, so many fantasies that had never been fulfilled. The incubus needed this, needed the sex to heal, but Albert needed it too. They would both be so much better if they did this.
Albert climbed atop the unconscious boy. He grabbed the incubus' hard cock, and he pressed it between his buttcheeks, probing for his hole with the ample mushroom tip. When the head of the member, dripping wet with the bewitching precum, touched his opening, it spread open to swallow the cock whole. Albert simply lowered himself on it, the throbbing manhood sliding into him effortlessly. He had not feared pain - he now knew the incubus wanted only to give him pleasure - and there was none. The thickness nested itself within him, and Albert knew this was as it was meant to be. He placed both of his hands on the boy's pectoral muscles. They were firm, well-exercised by daily labour. Albert liked this. He himself was a bit scrawny, but not without his own ruggedness, used to a life on the road with his master. But riding this broad-shouldered, tall boy, was perfect. Albert looked into his face.
"You're my first", said the apprentice in a hushed voice.
He wondered if the incubus could hear, if he knew. Albert began moving his hips, making the thick member move inside him. Everything about this was amazin: his sphincter spreading open, travelling across the hard shaft; the feeling of fullness that receded as the manhood withdrew, but that overtook Albert again when he rammed himself back down all the way to the cock's hilt. The apprentice also discovered quickly that if he pushed down on the cock a certain way, it massaged a wonderful spot inside of him, relieving with each thrust an itch he didn't know he had. The notion that Albert was doing something so animalistic, forbidden by the Teachings of his childhood, aroused him even further. He was using his hole to give another man, an incubus at that, pleasures exquisite, surrendering himself to all the carnal instincts attached to the act. As Albert settled into a rhythmic fucking, moans began to rise from the unconscious boy's throat. If the apprentice had had doubts earlier about whether he was giving the incubus what he needed or not, now he knew with certainty that he was surrendering everything he had to provide. There wasn't a single parcel of his insides that the cock had not smeared itself against, had not thoroughly desecrated, and he loved every bit of it. Albert fucked harder, bouncing up and down on the boy's wide hips. He was not even worried about the boy's injury; he knew the more he gave himself with abandon, the better everything would be.
Suddenly, the incubus exploded inside him. It was unmistakable, impossible to ignore. Stream after stream of something marvellous, of something delicious and torrid, was being pumped into Albert's innermost self. The cock inside him was throbbing uncontrollably. The incubus boy, despite being unconscious, began thrashing his head left and right, breathing raggedly, whining. It was impossible for Albert to think anymore; all that mattered was that he was the receptacle for something sacred, something holy - the incubus' seed. The apprentice boy was not coming himself, but it did not matter one bit. He collapsed on the unconscious boy. The fertile manhood still twitched inside him; he refused to let it slide out. It was the first member to have ever fucked him, and he wanted to enjoy its presence as long as possible. The incubus' seed glowed within him, thrummed, a `thank you' the unconscious boy could not utter with his own voice. Albert did not know for sure how it was supposed to feel, when a man came inside another man, but he was certain it could not be this divine; there was something special about this incubus' seed, he was sure of it.
The boy's face was right next to his. It had returned to its peaceful expression. Albert planted a tender kiss on his lips; they were much warmer now. The apprentice knew then he had done right. The boy was healing. He stared at the handsome, imperfect face, the face of a boy somehow marked by fate. His first boy.
It's the sight Albert brought along with him in his slumber, lulled to sleep by the warmth of the boy's body, and the song of the seed that had been sowed deep inside him.
TO BE CONTINUED.