This is not your typical incubus story. But then, this story did not come about in a typical way. I normally see a story in my mind, flesh it out as it plays through my mind several times, and then write it out.
This story would not do that. It remained jumbled and kept going down what were apparently dead ends. Then I realized that what I was seeing in my mind was two stories overlaid on top of each other. They were almost the same, but they were different. One was an erotic romance story about a young woman and her imaginary friend. The other was non-erotic, but perhaps a romance story about a young woman and her imaginary friend. They begin exactly the same, but take very different paths as they develop.
This story is the erotic romance. I called the young woman Cindy in this version. The non-erotic version is Mindy’s Imaginary Friend. It is the story of an imaginary friend who is not so imaginary. I am posting both in Sci-Fi / Fantasy so that they remain together.
Because these stories are twins of the same muse, I am posting them at the same time, but separately. I would recommend that you read them both.
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WARNING! All of my writing is intended for adults over the age of 18 ONLY. Stories may contain strong or even extreme sexual content. All people and events depicted are fictional and any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental. Actions, situations, and responses are fictional ONLY and should not be attempted in real life.
If you are under the age or 18 or do not understand the difference between fantasy and reality or if you reside in any state, province, nation, or tribal territory that prohibits the reading of acts depicted in these stories, please stop reading immediately and move to somewhere that exists in the twenty-first century.
Archiving and reposting of this story is permitted, but only if acknowledgment of copyright and statement of limitation of use is included with the article. This story is copyright (c) 2014 by The Technician.
Individual readers may archive and/or print single copies of this story for personal, non-commercial use. Production of multiple copies of this story on paper, disk, or other fixed format is expressly forbidden.
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Cindy Beckman lay quietly in bed waiting. She knew that he would soon be here. As she looked out into the total blackness of her bedroom, her mind went back to the very first time that she had seen him appear in her room.
She was only seven. She didn’t know how old he was then, or if, in fact, age had any meaning for him. In those days, he was just a small boy who appeared to be her same age. He would bring her toys for them to play with, or he would take her to marvelous places that she had never seen before except in videos or read about in books.
He told her that his name was Teman. He had dark hair and very dark eyes and looked almost Oriental. But his eyes were not what Cindy typically thought of for a person from China or Japan or even Korea. Perhaps he was from one of the Pacific islands. It really didn’t matter. Where he was from didn’t explain how he was able to come into her bedroom each night.
Sometime in the second week after Teman first appeared, she told her parents about him. They immediately called the police. After a thorough investigation by detectives and a conversation with two social workers and a psychologist, it was decided that he existed only in Cindy’s mind.
“You have nothing to be ashamed of,” the psychologist told her sweetly. “Many children have imaginary friends who fill a need in their lives.” The woman then softly covered Cindy’s hands with her own and said, “Your parents and I have decided that you will see me once a week for a while so we can work through more constructive ways to fulfill the needs in your life.”
Cindy went to therapy for five years. It was mostly playing with special toys and talking about anything in her life that bothered her. Cindy learned a lot from those sessions. Primarily, she learned how to lie convincingly to the psychologist and her parents about the mysterious boy who visited her room each night.
Teman continued to come to see her almost every night. Sometimes he would leave one of the small toys behind as a gift to her. Sometimes she would give him one of her drawings and he would take it with him. She was sure that he was real. She was sure that he was really in her room. But whenever the doctor or her parents asked about him, she would say, “He doesn’t visit me anymore.”
The last time Cindy ever mentioned Teman to anyone was when her mother noticed a small, home-made doll on her shelf. She asked where it had come from. “Teman gave it to me,” Cindy answered.
“Don’t lie to me,” her mother said firmly. “We have been putting up with your wild stories for months now. And now it looks like you are stealing from your friends and lying to cover what you have done.”
Cindy tried to tell her mother that Teman had left the doll the last time he visited, but that only angered her mother more and more. They yelled at each other for several minutes until finally her mother snapped, slapped her hard and screamed, “I never want to hear about this imaginary friend of yours ever again, no matter what he does or what he gives you.”
Neither her mother nor the psychologist nor anyone else ever again heard her speak of Teman. After an additional year, the psychologist declared that she had finally outgrown her childish fantasy. Therapy continued for another two years before it was declared no longer necessary. Teman was forgotten by everyone… except Cindy. It is difficult to forget someone who visits you almost every night.
The years passed and Cindy grew into a beautiful young woman. Teman also grew. He was now a man, not a boy. As they both got older, Cindy began to notice that she shared many facial features with Teman. She, too, had dark hair and dark eyes. Her skin was darker than most of her friends, and strangely darker than her mother or father or any of her cousins.
It was about the time that she went away to college that it all changed. No, it wasn’t “about” any time– it was an exact day. Everything changed very early on a Saturday night in her freshman year when she came back to the dorm after a date with Tom Huxley. It had been a very special night. The date itself wasn’t special, it was just a movie. What was special was what happened after the movie. By the time Cindy returned to her dorm room, she was no longer a virgin.
When Teman appeared that night, he was different. He was darker. His voice was deeper, heavier. And he was almost… scary.
“You’ve changed,” she said.
“No,” he answered. “You have changed.” He sat on the bed to speak with her as he had so many times in the past. “Before,” he said, “you were a young, innocent girl who needed a friend. So, I was your friend.”
He laughed. It wasn’t the light, childish laughter she was used to. It was a deep, rumbling laugh that somehow sounded evil. “You are still young…” He laughed again. “… but you are no longer innocent. You have awakened a new person within yourself that now has different needs. And that has awakened new needs within me.”
Cindy watched in fear as Teman’s eyes seemed to glow. “Who are you?” she said in fear.
“I am who I have always been ,” he answered. “I am Teman, your companion. But I think you are really asking what, not who.”
“What are you?” Cindy asked softly.
“I am called many things,” he answered. “In the islands where my father was created, I am called ‘The Companion’– Teman, in their language. In your language, I am usually called an Incubus. My kind live on the sexual energy which is released by women during orgasm.”
“Why me?”
He laughed softly as he answered, “Because of what you are.” His voice became soft, almost loving and caring. We are, in a way, twins. I was created when you were. I was conceived and born along with you.”
“I don’t understand?”
“Have you ever wondered how anyone as bumbling and incompetent as your father could be so successful? Has it not ever amazed you how such a homely and uncouth man could snare– and keep– such a beautiful woman as your mother?”
He again laughed. “He made a deal with the Devil… well, actually a deal with an incubus– my father. Your myths and legends speak of incubi impregnating your females and creating powerful magical men and women such as Merlin, but it is not always that way. That only happens when it is the woman that makes the bargain, and then the bargain has to be with an incubus and a succubus. When a child is born of such a bargain, two beings exist in one body, and that person can call upon the power of my world to work within yours.”
Teman smiled at Cindy’s continued bewilderment. “It is actually very simple,” he said. “If a woman makes the bargain with the succubus without the knowledge of the man, the succubus enters her body while she mates with the unsuspecting man. Then when the male child is born, a succubus is born along with him. Your father made the bargain. My father was within him as he mated with your mother. So, when the female child– you– was born, I– an incubus– was also born.
“Normally I would have immediately drifted off in the world in search of the best source of energy. But there was no need for that. Your mother loved you intensely, and derived great pleasure from seeing to your needs. Such love gives off intense energy. As a baby, I was fed by the pleasure your mother received taking you to breast and from the love you gave her in response.”
The almost shy smile looked strange upon his face as he continuing, “That sometimes happens, but almost always we must shortly move on as we– and the child– wean from such needs. But you were different. Even as a very small child, you were so grateful for a constant companion that, even before you could see me, you poured out such intense love to that unseen someone who was always with you, that I, not much more than an infant myself, was nourished by your love.
“Later, as you were able to see me, I would listen to you and play with you, and you loved me as a friend. I was nourished by your childish, but pure, love of a friend. In return, you received the reassurance of my company as your constant companion. Despite what your myths say, it is not always a one-sided relationship.
“Now that you are a woman and I am an adult incubi, I need sexual energy to sustain me. I could force myself upon you. I could come to you in your sleep as many of my brothers do. But I know– or perhaps hope– that is not needed… and I do not want it to be that way. I… I… I love you.”
He laughed again. This time it almost sounded like a laugh of embarrassment. “Love is almost unheard of for an incubi,” he said, “… but, for me, it is so. I love you, and I want to be with you for as long as you live. I can give you great pleasure. I can give you much wealth and success. I can extend your life well beyond it normal mortal limits.”
He looked down as if he could not face her as he said, “If you say no, I will leave and never bother you again.” He once again looked up. “If you say yes, I will be with you for the rest of your life.”
“That is a very strange marriage proposal,” Cindy answered. “And most people would say that it would be an imaginary marriage.” She laughed lightly, “But I accept. I have always thought that we would be together forever, and I often imagined us married some day.”
Teman moved into her bed. He had often sat on the edge of her bed to talk with her, but he had never removed his clothing, and he had never slipped under the covers with her. The slight touch of his skin against hers sent shivers through her entire being. For an instant, she wondered what had happened to the flannel night shirt she had been wearing when she went to bed. But then she smiled and thought,‘He’s magical. He wished it away.’
Her shivers of excitement increased as he kissed her lightly, not on the lips, but on the edge of her chin. Those light kisses trailed down her neck until they were between her breasts. Once her mind was focused there, his lips were replaced by his fingertips. Their touch was as light as the kisses that had preceeded as he lightly stroked her breasts.
The lips returned, this time to suckle first the left breast, and then her right. His hands, meanwhile were tracing up and down her sides. She could feel his body pressing tighter against her side as his hands moved, this time so that one was stroking circles on her stomach while the other was sliding ever so softly down her back and then lightly caressing her behind.
‘Wait! How is this possible? I am lying on my back and yet he is stroking it.’ she asked herself through the fog of pleasure that was beginning to overwhelm her body.‘That’s right,’ she answered herself as she sank deeper into the pleasure he was giving her,‘He’s magical.’
Teman’s magical fingers continued to drive Cindy higher and higher as they stroked every inch of her skin. It was not until she was moaning and slowly thrashing her body on the bed that those fingers moved to the center of her sex and lightly stroked her nether lips and that most sensitive nub of pleasure.
“Teman,” she said aloud, “I never knew I could feel like this.”
“And you shall feel much more,” he answered just before his lips touched hers and sealed her voice within her. His fingers continued to stroke and swirl, but now it was his tongue that Cindy could feel above all as it flicked against the insides of her lips and moved slowly into her mouth.
She welcomed its intrusion with muffled moans and greater thrashing of her body. Her legs opened of their own, giving Teman greater access to her now dripping sex. She was beginning to thrust herself upward against his hand in response to his touch.
“I must ask this one final time,” he said softly, “Do you seal yourself to me?”
“Yes,” she panted back in answer. “I give myself to you. Take me.”
Cindy felt Teman move so that his body was now on hers. Her legs were wrapped around his as he nestled against her. His kiss was now pressing strongly against her lips. He moved slightly and his prick rubbed against the lips of her slit, seeking entrance.
In her mind, she imagined her sex opening for him as the tip of his member began to enter her. He was large. Cindy did not have the experience to judge him against anyone except Tom, but he was definitely much larger than him.
She felt herself stretching as he filled her. The sense of fullness was overwhelming. The feeling of him inside her flooded her with pleasure that she had not imagined. He was pressing hard against her body now, but the pressure was not from him. It was from her pushing against him trying to bring him more fully into herself.
Then he began to move within her. Were they still in her bed? She felt as if she were floating high above the clouds.
Was she even still within her own body? Nothing seemed to exist except his lips upon hers and his member moving within her.
She could her herself crying out. Would the entire dorm hear her passion? She did not care. Teman was once again taking her places that she had never before experienced. She was being enveloped in warmth and light that was growing brighter and warmer and brighter and hotter until she felt herself exploding in her first true orgasm.
Yes, she had taken herself to what she thought was an orgasm as she experimented with her body. No, Tom had not brought her anywhere close to that point. But those self-induced moments of pleasure were but mere shadows of the tremendous feelings which now tore through her body as Teman erupted within her.
Her mind became one with the heat and with the light and with Teman. She floated enveloped in bliss as Teman continued to move slowly within her. His hands stroked her softly as he held her tight against his body for many minutes.
And then he was gone.
Lying there in the fading afterglow, Cindy was suddenly afraid of what her roommate– or for that matter, the entire dorm– had seen or heard. But she heard no pounding on her door, and when she looked across the small room, she could see Shelly sleeping peacefully and undisturbed. “He’s magical,” she said aloud to herself as she drifted off to sleep.
“That was fifty years ago, tonight.” Cindy said to the blackness of the room.
“We have been married for fifty years,” she said to Teman as he slowly appeared from that darkness.
A lot had happened in those fifty years. Cindy Beckman was now a very wealthy woman. Her brand of cosmetics sold very well throughout the world. The greatest ad for their power was Cindy, herself, who at age seventy looked no older than forty– and that was a very young and healthy looking forty.
CB cosmetics outsold almost all other brands worldwide. The press would often ask her why she had never married. She would always give the same answer, “I have never met the right companion… at least not in this world.” Then she would flash that sly smile that was famous from her ads and billboards.
For some reason, many of the newsmen often had to edit their recordings at that point. It seems that there was almost always a deep, rumbling laugh that was picked up from somewhere. One newswoman swore that at that point, just for an instant, she saw a very handsome man standing next to Cindy, smiling broadly. She decided that it had to be a trick of the mind, however, because what she saw had looked exactly like the perfect male image that Cindy had created to advertise her line of men’s cologne.
That line is called, “Teman.” That word appears in bold, handwritten script on the package and in the glass on each bottle. Beneath that, in a fine, italicized font, it says, “He’s Magical.”
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END OF STORY
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