51670 Stories
Create account

New Stories 51670

Fiction 24384

Blowjob 12480

Consensual Sex 9933

Anal 9777

Fantasy 9330

True Story 9205

Incest 6109

Cum Swallowing 5544

Dark Fantasy 5122

Male / Female 5050

BDSM 4375

First Time 3758

Bi-sexual 3679

Teen 3066

Cheating 2850

Erotica 2602

Lesbian 2547

Domination/submission 2521

Gay 2364

Ass to mouth 2268

Oral Sex 1989

Bestiality 1836

Exhibitionism 1829

Authoritarian 1826

Romance 1816

Group Sex 1739

Fantastic 1655

Masturbation 1585

Female solo 1585

Hardcore 1460

Diary 1394

Boy 1340

Coercion 1295

Black 1290

Blackmail 1232

Cruelty 1219

Asian 1179

Humiliation 1001

Body modification 873

Job/Place-of-work 844

Young 843

Female Domination 810

Interracial 809

Rape 760

Mature 706

Discipline 680

Sex Joke 667

Drug 655

Non-consensual sex 634

School 600

Death 589

Non-Erotic 578

Written by women 539

Extreme 528

Cuckold 521

Virginity 483

Threesome 468

Reluctance 468

Poem 425

Mind Control 409

Wife 405

Voyeurism 396

Pregnant 336

Male Domination 325

Violence 278

Spanking 227

Fisting 206

Foot or shoe fetish 203

Transsexual 195

Prostitution 190

Monster 188

Slavery 162

Lactation 160

Toys 148

Gothic 146

Murder 140

massage 138

Latina 130

Water Sports/Pissing 129

Enema 100

Torture 91

Stories in DB: 51670
Comments: 538711

  1. The Incubus' Bride
  2. The Incubus' Bride: A Story
  3. The Incubus' Wife: Pleasured At Dinner
  4. The Incubus' Wife: A Party Gone Wild

The Incubus' Bride: A Story

Categories Fiction, Authoritarian, BDSM, Wife

Authror: Liv Beornwulf

Published: 25 April 2015

  • Font:

Realism and fiction. I know that these two are exceptionally poles-apart and don’t ever fit in together. This might be all a made-up narrative, I know. But it is a dress and costume for concealing and putting out of sight my realistically truth itself. There is no fiction without reality in the first place, or is it not so? All fiction is footed and based on reality and the flights of the imagination or fantasies that come from going through it in case you didn’t know about this. I am Tori Bitch. Yes. I have this odd and unusual surname. But you know what? My father had it, furthermore true with the father to his father to his father to his father. So yes—it’s quite a very weird last name and I am not even closely sure how it went on and was without any bit of stinting bypassed over from those times-of-yore generation down till mine.

This is not my first ever moment in time to meet Jace. Jace Dicking is his complete name. I know. He has rather an out-of-the-ordinary and nonstandard surname too just like mine. But the intact truth is this: Try to google how many people bear on themselves his surname, and the results will upset and horrify you at the same time. They are most likely more than you can count up, but they are not all that plentiful in truth, say more than people who have incredibly in-style surnames like Smith or Johnson. I think I am fast falling in love with Jace. Today is Saturday; April 25, 2015 as I inscribe all this. Last night with him—it was so amazingly wonderful and extraordinary. He made me feel so blissful and energized such that I could not lever or manage all that thrill and bliss that he was furnishing me with freely and unconditionally. The lone problem here is that not everyone can see and glimpse Jace. I ever wonder: Am I actually this strange and abnormal and barmy such that I alone can be capable of seeing and touching and enjoying every moment and time squandered with him? Am I really this nuts and unusual? Jace himself tells me that I am so exceedingly special to him, that he prefers to be with me alone for an incredibly singular reason. But then I know. I am not the only human on Earth that he fritters up time with and what's more chat liberally and gladly with.

It is easy and straightforward. Jace is like my very own keeper and angel on the other visage of the mirror. He wields and plies this especially startling influence and power. Whenever I am undergoing any appalling or unpleasant mood, I basically call his name out, and he at once and without any crumb of delay materializes and shows up. I can see him. It is like he is bodily in every sense and way. Don’t get me in the wrong. He does have a body and soul. He can touch and feel and stroke and cuddle and hold me in his well-built and dominant arms. He does whatever he feels like carrying out with me. Whenever I am with him, I feel this above-all fine-looking and incredibly beautiful besides. He does make me much more attractive than I at the at-hand moment am, or doesn’t he?

I am sort of worn-out and bushed-in as I pull in my way here from school. It is Friday nighttime, and I find roughly about everyone in the house yawning in slumber, not including Brielle? She is as well having a lie-down too! I mean how can she sleep this early without lingering about for me to show my treasured face here and then bestow her a soft tender goodnight kiss? How can she honestly? Mila is my big sister. I find her there, flicking off the television and lights as well before eventually lagging her way off to bed. No—she is not crippled in any way that you might assume of! It is just that she is ambling and toddling in such a sluggish system and manner. I smile at her thoughtfully, and humanely ask her: “What’s up for dinner, big sis?”

“Mushrooms and boiled rice, I am assuming. Don’t overlook to switch off the microwave before crashing your way off to sleep please. Your food must be already growing cold by now, I imagine.”

“Sharp then, sis.”

My bedroom isn’t all this bulky and airy and lavish. I like it all the time being this trouble-free and undemanding. I just wish that it was much more bigger and larger than this. In any case, I toss my bag down to my bed and go on to pitch myself on it, unbolting and checking and reviewing speedily my mailbox on my cell phone. I have three more emails waiting to be examined and answered back to, I am deducing……………

Jace is unexpectedly lying down here on my bed besides me all out of nowhere. What is he particularly? A ghost? This is so ridiculous and illogical of me. I in fact and in truth do know what he precisely is: An Incubus! And Incubus aren’t any ghosts or other horror narrative build-up stuff. Jace is intolerably and acutely handsome, having a slight but dazzling yellow and white light glimmering and guttering all about him. It is almost like he is composed of radiance and vividness solely. As time goes on, the light flickering all around him pales and weakens away so that he is normal and purely human once again. I sigh and breathe out at seeing him. I feel much more safer and hugely cheerful too.

“Tori,” he smiles graciously at me.

“Jace,” I grin back gently.

He is near me, almost a few breaths of remoteness away. I tremble from panic that he is going to touch and hold me like he is ever affectionate of doing. My body can counter to that quite active sexually and erotically, and that is the last thing on my mind right now. I can’t help myself but ogle and make awed eyes at this stunningly beautiful being before my eyes. He is so exquisite and attractive. Just his sighting alone makes me stop thinking about that all-the-time vexing and annoying portrait of Charles. Oh, by the way, we are finished and through with each other—I must bluntly add.

“You seem to not remember that I exist in your life and days, right, my cute one?” The way he is posing all this to me? It is as excessively sweet and pleasant-sounding as he can best make it. This is how he articulates: Not with a piercingly callous and vinegary voice, but a quite humbled and tuneful tenor. It feels like he is in fact whispering to me, though a commonplace whisper wouldn’t be hearable enough. His syrupy voice is a soft sigh somehow, hearable and comprehensible enough in every logic and manner.

I know. I do feel blameworthy for what he is declaring now. I have overlooked and shut my eyes to his gorgeous presence for so long a time. I think he is right. It is high time we patch up and mend our bond. He was never the one who threw away the other. It was I—Tori—myself as an unquestionable alternative. Oh goodness! Where do I start now? Right now, all I feel in my heart is bottomless and extremely ache and soreness. I enthusiastically and by my own individual preference do want to feel it anyway. Once I study and revise this stuff well, I will without doubt know how to deal and handle it should it crop up surprisingly in the coming days.

“Well, what would I have to do for you to pardon this slip-up of mine, Jace?” I ask him coolly and composedly. He caresses and strokes my cheek. I jolt and shiver, quavering all the worse when I feel a sexual kind of weight sprint through my blood and veins. It is almost like I am now prepared and geared up to receive him. Damn me for this! He shifts and whisks his lips seriously close towards mine. I can really feel his breath fan and punch its way direct into my face; that lovable and breathtaking scent surfacing from his mouth? It makes me crave to open mine widely too and then gulp down and capture it all in.

“Just accept me back, dear. And please do engage me in most things that you do. I want to feel quite special and honored in your life; and not like I am some total outsider that you do not even know. You can call on my support and backing whenever need it, and I swear, I will for all eternity be there to back and help you out in almost anything it is that you will be facing at that particular point in time. Do you consent to this?”

I only nod quietly at him, without any small sound. After this, he goes on to sweep and brush and budge his lips against mine. I only stay still and frozen up, putting on hold and breaking to pause my breath just for this jiffy while to slip by. His lips—they feel so sugary and honey and candy like. As I bite and nibble my way against them sloppily, I feel so roused and electrified and fired up by their incessant collision such that I cannot help but give in to my other feebly other and half. I have to be in charge of myself. I just have to do it. I must do it as a matter of fact.

Out of the blue, Jace quits and refrains from kissing me to look and stare me straight in the eyes once more. I stare and gaze right back at him. He seems deeply pleased and contented with himself. Without a word of warning, he progresses towards me and starts kissing and licking my lips fiercely and for all I am worth this time around. I cringe and drift away from him, shuddering and quaking, but he speedily comes after me and steadfastly grasps the back of my neck with his hands so that he can have power and command over my rushed movements and locomotion. I finally and from top to bottom give up to him, acceding him to take charge and control of me as he feels like accomplishing. His tongue slicks inch by inch and runs delicately through mine, clashing and sweeping it up progressively but smoothly light and quiet, exciting and rousing up my body in every sexual way thinkable. I can feel my two clad nipples tense and solidify up. My whole body is stiffening and tautening promptly at the same time additionally. I don’t want to have sex with him right now, but I am so severely and powerlessly enticed to do this.

He joins me for dinner brusquely afterwards. I make two hot cups of tea for the both of us, and we slurp and gulp it up while sinking our teeth and frantically chomping into our bowls of white mushroom and boiled rice. It is all excitement and enjoyment! I solicited him to join me for this brilliant meal, which he easily and without much of any second thought consented to. Even as we feast, he is settled and stooled so close to me I cannot help it but dread any further slam-up contact with him. He is so breathtaking and amazing.

When I can’t get myself to sip any more tea, he makes me slurp and gulp it by seizing the cup for me and bowing it downwards toward my open mouth. I let the sweet sugary tea fall and stream its way without problems and calmly and serenely, and then I laugh and gurgle out powerlessly to myself and him in addition after all this. For another little bit while, he stops munching just so to look benevolently and slickly at me and then hold and pat and caress and stroke my cheek watchfully and little by little. I can’t believe that this is the guy that I am fast and helplessly falling in love with. He can vanish and ebb away any moment after now, and I don’t seem to care much about it at all.

This is the exact thought that splits and splinters my heart deep inside. I cry and weep simply because of it. At noting this, Jace carries and hastily takes me up to bed. As I lie down here, with him staring and gazing lovingly down at me, he questions me this kindheartedly: “Have I done anything to make you cry, Tori?”

My eyes flash and flicker luminously with expensive but worthless tears. “I didn’t know that you could be this bona fide and factual and existent, Jace, and now I gradually fear that you are going to leave and walk out on me just like that.” At this, he silently hugs me and holds me so fantastically close to himself, stroking my back and shushing me as he acts out so. Then there immediately follows those cute and breathtaking words that I was so longing to overhear:

“You are piece and component of me now, Tori. There is no way on Earth here I am going to leave and abandon you just like that. Do you faultlessly comprehend this?”

I nod in silence. At least…………I feel so much better and at ease now……

“Tell me just one thing that you want me to do for you before you fall asleep while I am keeping watch over you all night long?”

I reflect about this for a split second. “Give me something sweet and cute to dream about. Sweeter than the cute face of Charl—”

Charles! I don’t get to finish this word. He hacks me short without even punctual delay. “Okay. I appreciate that. But please: Don’t ever bring up his name when I am around. I can’t stand him what's more.”

“Okay.” I am in agreement and conformity to that. How could I be this silly and childish in the first place?

I might be unclothed and undressed right here before him, but I don’t really care. He is clothed and putting on something unlike me—of course! Everything he is putting on is intensely black; his jeans trousers; his shirt; his jacket; his canvas shoes. I place my hand on his extensive and wide chest to caress and feel it. He doesn’t come to exchange blows with me for that. Instead, he kisses my cheek tenderly and with awareness, and then swiftly pulls back to glimpse and stare me in the eyes. I close my eyes and allow the world and everything about me to spin and roll about. The feel of his lips brushing and slapping against mine—it drives and steers me all the far more wilder and madder. I love him. Yes, so much more indeed!

With my eyes closed, I move my hands down his arousing chest up till I have reached his belly, and before I go any further beneath here, I push his shirt upwards, skinning and removing it away from him so that I can get to freely and liberally access and in addition to that enjoy his bare, nude, and uncovered chest; and then to finish with, press and compress mine own chest against his. In the coming moment, I am all asleep and dreaming about sweet and divine things. I had no idea that Jace could be this real and existent. But then: He is mine, all and solely mine and no one else’s—and I am all his exclusively too.

Views: 5263     Rated: +8.33

Add to favorites
  • Abuse on a story

    * Required field

The Incubus' Bride: A Story

Rate this story:

  • Comment story

    * Required field

Last Stories author Liv Beornwulf

Laws of Attraction: The Playgirl

Categories Dark Fantasy, Anal, BDSM, Incest

FACEBOOK NOTE Monday, September 7 2015 5.13 AM Pacific Time Attraction has got laws too—like a ‘bitch’ dog wants certain principles followed before she goes on hit and starts having intercourse anyhow. From my perspective, these are the major Laws of Attraction I picked up...


Views: 8879     Rated: +3.64 (11)    Comments: 3

Uncle Lucas and Vikki - EDITED

Categories Dark Fantasy, Anal, Authoritarian, Incest

On my eighteenth birthday, Uncle Lucas buys me panties. I find it strange; especially that he gives them to me just as I am walking out of the toilet. “Hi there, cutie,” he calls me. “Come closer, will you? Uncle Lucas has got something to show you…..something...


Views: 9580     Rated: +5 (8)   


Categories Dark Fantasy, Anal, BDSM, Blowjob

EDITOR'S CORNER Hi! I'm Amy; Amy Simpson. My dad is Rick—Rick Simpson. I'm 19, he is 41. He is that young actually—one major reason I enjoy fucking and sucking and licking him also. Mom has got no clue about what we do behind her unsuspicious back. I don't want...


Views: 13337     Rated: +6.54 (26)    Comments: 3