Incubus
chap.5
Father Hopkins sighed an audible breath of relief as the 747’s wheels made a loud thud and then a screech on the tarmac. His nerves had been frayed since leaving Vatican City. A quick glance at his assistant, Sister Anne, revealed her mutual relief. She was younger than he, a mere 30 years old, just a child really. And she looked young for her age. She had joined the cloth only two years before after her parents had died in a bizarre double homicide on the streets of London. Normally, father Hopkins worked with older more experienced personnel but he had taken a liking to Sister Anne despite her age.
As the blur of airport terminals along the runway flew past his window he couldn’t quite believe his quest had brought him to this American city. If his information was correct, the battle his ancestors had fought for years on old European soil would culminate here. Hopefully, he had arrived in time to stop it before it began. But he assumed nothing. If anything, he assumed the worst. Modern man was ill-equipped to deal with that which defied his reason and appealed to his vices. They were easy targets. Even the church was unwilling to admit such things existed. Times had changed. The world had moved on and the church was doing its best to remain relevant. They could not afford to discuss the supernatural. In truth, the evidence could be found deep in the Vatican Vaults. On dusty handwritten pages, events and struggles between light and dark were chronicled in human blood and sacrifice. His order was an old one that the church would neither confirm nor deny—a kind of spiritual delta force. Despite the glamour, most of his time was spent researching and rehearsing, honing his faith and studying his adversaries. Although he had traveled the globe extensively in his 65 years , he never got used to air travel. Perhaps a quick shot of brandy would quell his nerves. He gathered his one piece of luggage and made for the exit.
“Where are we headed Father?” Sister Anne asked.
“I have made arrangements for us to stay with the good sisters at the Church of the Blessed Heart.”
“And then,” she asked.
“And then we go to the library to look for a very old book.”
Jennifer Wallace opened the front door with a mixture of anticipation and fear. She was anxious to squeeze in some private time with her new book if she could find it. However, it seemed that everyday brought more and more strange events in the house hold and she braced herself for anything. She closed the door softly and listened. “I’m home,” she called out to the empty house. No reply. “Thank god,” she thought, “a little peace and quiet.”
She made a quick search around the house to make sure no one was home and then headed to her mother’s room. She wondered what was wrong with her mother lately. She had been acting very strange. Maybe her parents were having problems.
The room was dim with filtered light from the closed blinds. She let her eyes adjust to the darkness and took in the sent of her mothers perfume and the smell of candles. Shopping bags littered the bed. They were black with gold lettering that read “Jack’s Novelties and Adult Books.” Yep the surprises never ceased. Feeling a tingle in her stomach, her adolescent curiosity piqued. She opened one of the bags and peered inside: a pair of sluttish panties and a very short mini skirt. The other bag felt heavier. Underneath more slutty clothes was a long box with the words “Black Mamba” written on the side. Behind the cellophane packaging was a hideous object. Her first reaction was to throw it back in the bag. Then she seemed to get another idea. She brought it closer. It was a thick black vibrating dildo shaped like a huge penis, complete with veins. The thing seemed way to big for her, or any other woman. But she imagined what it might feel like in her hand. She longed to try and wrap her fingers around its girth. She opened the cardboard lid and freed the giant. In her hands the phallus felt like firm but spongy flesh. She stroked its length with her hand, exploring all of its ridges and valleys.
She had to see what it felt like. Even if she couldn’t get it all the way in, she must feel it. Brushing the bags off the bed, she made for a hasty masturbation session. Then her hand found something leather and familiar, half hidden beneath the sheet. The Book! Finally, she had found it. Her mother did have it. But why hadn’t she said anything? No matter now, her libido was rising with the fat cock in one hand and her book in the other. She quickly pulled her skirt up, flipped the switch and the huge toy came to life with a vibrating hum. “Ohh...yea,” she said out loud as she placed on her clit. She didn’t know it could feel this good.
She laid the book out on the bed and fell down beside it. The pages turned gently as she searched for eye candy to expedite her orgasm. Page 56 caught her eye. A woman stood in a red chamber that seemed to have no walls. The room was empty except for a thrown and small table which held some kind of crystal ball. On the thrown a dark demonic figure sat confidently, becoming the woman toward the crystal.
With the vibrator motoring away at her clit, Jennifer felt the bedroom start to disappear from her peripheral vision. There was nothing but the pleasure she felt and the alluring picture unfolding before her eyes. Had she been in a normal state of consciousness, the fact that the picture had begun to move on the page would have alarmed her. But the light from the crystal was captivating. It leaped from the page like a bright movie, engulfing her pupils in its green glow.
Either from inside her mind or from the book itself, a voice slowly became audible. It swirled like a vaporous echo of unintelligible whispers. Jennifer fixated on the voice and the light. “J..e..nn..ifer,” it said, calling out to her.
“Yyeesss,” she replied slowly, her eyes unblinking windows to her soul.
“Come to me Jennifer,” the voice said. “There is pleasure here. Gaze into the Crystal’s pretty light. There is pleasure there. Pleasure is what you want isn’t it Jennifer?”
“Yeesss,” she replied again.
Slowly the crystals light diminished until it was a small swirling ball of green vapors. However, the green light that had filled Jennifer’s innocent eyes remained there and she stared through picture book widow without blinking.
The creature on the thrown beaconed her to watch, to continue masturbating. The woman in the chamber who had also been staring at the crystal ball came towards the thrown. She had long dark hair, pretty features and was a little older. Her clothes, however, made her look like a prostitute. She had a short vinyl mini skirt on with a tight tube top. “Mother?” Jennifer called out to the book. The woman turned her head for an instant and looked at Jennifer with sultry, wanton eyes as she pulled her mini skirt up for the creature. Jennifer could not help but notice how beautiful the women’s smooth pussy looked. The creature extended one long evil finger and slid it up the length of the woman’s slit. He then brought the wet finger to his mouth and licked off the juices with an evil grin. Turned on by this, the woman began to dance and fondle her big delicious tits for him as she dipped and gyrated her sexy pussy.
Jennifer began rubbing the vibrator against her clit more vigorously, watching the show unfold. In the back of her mind she knew she was doing something terrible. It ate away at her soul to watch her mother performing these un-earthly and unholy acts. But the pleasure and profanity were undeniable.
In her altered state, Jennifer was unaware and incapable of knowing if anyone was in the room or the house. Quietly a figure entered the bedroom and closed the door behind her. It moved over to the side of the bed and looked down with mischievous eyes.
In the book, the creature reached down between his legs and brought out the most enormous, red cock Jennifer had ever seen. It seemed to pulse with energy and power. The woman stared down with huge, hungry eyes as she reached out to caress the leviathan. A whitish liquid oozed from its head. Greedily the woman straddled the thrown, grasping the massive cock with both hands. Gently she began moving the tip up and down the length of her pussy, feeling her juices begin to lubricate it. She could feel the hot demon seed heat up her labia.
Behind Jennifer, the figure in the bedroom, reached into one of the other bags and removed another dildo. She brought it up to her lips and put it in her mouth. Then, wet with saliva, she moved it down to her waiting pussy. Inch by inch she inserted the object in until nothing but the hilt remained. She looked down at her daughter with relish knowing she would succumb to the book’s power. Reaching into her purse she produced a stick of bright red lipstick. She lay down next to her daughter and began painting a strange symbol on her forehead. A steady rhythm of forgotten chants accompanied the dark ritual.
Jennifer was vaguely aware of someone familiar touching her. Somehow she knew it was her mother. She tried to ask her mother what she was doing, but couldn’t seem to make the words audible. As the thick red lipstick smeared across her forehead, it felt as though it was burning into her brain. But she was helpless to resist, fixated on the woman in the book sliding every unbelievable inch into her swollen hole. In the young girl’s ears, bewitching chants melded with the images.
Jennifer now lay on the bed with a huge black cock vibrating her clit, a strange dark symbol painted upon her forehead and an evil erotic vision of her mother’s unholy sex act being played out before her. She was a helpless, innocent vessel to be filled with sin. Beside her, her mother began to move the dildo in and out of her own pussy in cadence with her image in the book. Jan Wallace recounted the strange event in her head as she masturbated. It had felt too good; her master’s fat cock inside her.
Suddenly the women in the book sat down hard on the monster’s cock and he began making thrusting movements as loads of thick evil semen poured into Jan Wallace’s pussy. On the bed, her orgasm came fast and hard. She removed the dildo which was now coated with the creature’s thick cum she had kept inside her for her daughter. She lifted it out of her pussy and placed it against Jennifer’s lips. Gently she spread her lips so none of the semen would be wasted and let it drip down inside her. Then the big cock started making its way inside Jennifer’s pussy. Jennifer gave out a loud cry as she came in time with the woman in the book. The demon seed was now inside free to move through out her body, free to slowly make its way to her brain and soul. For an instant she saw her mother looking down at her. Unseen to mortal eyes, a phosphorescing symbol was beginning to form on her mother’s forehead just like the lipstick on Jennifer’s.
The librarian at the City Public Library looked up from her computer to see a tall, older man with thin, grey hair and a short, well kept salt and pepper beard striding toward her. He wore a dark suit, round, silver rimmed glasses and the collar of a priest. He was accompanied by a young woman in a somewhat conservative business suit, and the veil of a nun. It was a small veil, much less awkward than the full sized traditional garment. She had a very pretty face with clear, young skin.
“Hello what can I do for you?” the librarian asked.
“Hello, this is Sister Anne and I am Father Hopkins. We are seeking a book which I have been told is in your library. It is called Incubus: Being a History of the Demonica Sexualis.”
“Hmm. That’s a strange title. Let’s see,” she said as she began clicking her way through the menus on the archaic monochrome screen. “Yes it appears that we do have that book here.”
Father Hopkins felt a sense of relief wash over him. This was far too easy.
“Oh, I’m sorry but it’s been checked out,” she said.
There it was. It could never be that easy. “Can you tell me who checked it out?”
“I’m really not supposed to do that father.”
“It is of the utmost importance to the church that I find the person who checked it out,” Father Hopkins replied. “I implore you.”
“Well I suppose, since you are a priest,” she said giving them a slightly troubled look. “That’s strange. This particular book has no ISBN # or record of when the library received it. I do, however, have the name and address. One Jennifer Wallace, at 73-850 Moonlight Lane. She is the only person who has ever checked it out”
“Jennifer Wallace. Thank you very much. You’ve been most helpful,” he said turning towards the exit. Now to find this woman. He prayed that it wasn’t too late.