Excerpt from “Incubus”
“A Horny Halloween: Six Smutty Stories for the Samhain Season.”
I heard her. Heard her soul yearning and her body awakening. From the dark pit she drew me forth, her innocent flesh and the smell of her virgin quim. There is nothing but the stinking void in my realm. We hover, unformed, in the swirling heat of our prison, waiting. Sniffing the air, you could say, although we have none of their human senses. Not until we are brought into their world. Then we can take on a semblance of earthy shape and form for a short while. And it is their sexual energy we feed on to fuel our shapeshifting.
I awoke with a start. Though I could not recall any details, I knew that something in the dream had frightened me. My heart beat rapidly inside my rib cage. I do not know if I had shouted out aloud, but I was fearful that I had awoken the others. Sleeping as we do in such close quarters, with Papa and Mama in the room next door, my brothers Joseph and Josiah across the hall, and my young sisters Temperance and Chastity next to me, we all knew the importance of silence and quietude.
I lay silent in the pitch dark and listened carefully, waiting for my startlement to pass. I heard my sisters breathing softly, Temperance making raspy snorts and snuffling noises (why must that little wretch always sleep on her back? May the Lord forgive me).
The blackness was like a thick blanket around me, and as though to compensate for the lack of sight, my ears became more attuned to the noises elsewhere in the house. There was not a stirring from the boys’ bedroom. Next door in Papa and Mama’s room, there were muffled sounds. I knew what those sounds meant; they were swiving.
I knew about that act that a man performed on his wife. My older cousin Samuel had explained it to me when I was seven and we were out collecting the eggs from the hen house. He had even unbuttoned his britches and took out his dangle to show me. It was red and angry, and he wanted me to touch it and make it spit, but I was scared and I ran away.
Now I was older, a young woman in fact. My courses had been upon me for three years now. I was no longer so fearful, and yesterday I had even kissed a lad down at the stables (May the Lord forgive me for my sins). His tongue had been slimy and suffocating in my mouth, and his breath stank, but I liked the way it felt when he rutted against me. It made the space between my legs feel all thick and heavy, and when he made an odd strangled sound and his instrument vomited forth its contents, Lord forgive me but liked it. As I lay there and listened to my Papa making those same grunting noises, I thought of the stable boy, and of Samuel’s hard dangle, and the heavy feeling in my womanly parts returned. I closed my eyes and tried to block out the sounds and the obscene thoughts that filled my head.
The pulse of her tight virgin hole was like a drumbeat thudding through the ether. A thousand dark demons took amorphous shapes and writhed hungrily in the void, jostling for prime position. A broiling mass of invisible beings coalesced into a dark cloud, and I took my place among them, ready to be carried into the human world. The girl was ripe. It was time.