Chapter Text
In a small town and hidden by the shroud of a night, an incubus groaned as he limped past several houses. He clutched his side, where a gaping wound rested, bleeding sluggishly.
By Lilith, he was starving .
For the past week, he had chased after the skirts of fair ladies, only to be chased in return by hunters seeking to claim a bounty of some sort, until he was driven out of the major cities.
Now, weakened as he was, his life force waning, he was stuck in a town in the middle of nowhere and his future was grim. He had - what? A few days left? Damn it . The incubus gritted his teeth. He needed another soul urgently - something to merge with to support his own. His eyes drifted from one window of a house, to the other, looking for one with a suitable vessel - a potent stud that could suit his corruptive abilities.
And that’s when he saw her -
A woman, in one of the houses, asleep on the bed. Her face was youthful, but lined - with crinkles at the corner of her eyes hinting at her age. The incubus’s eyes narrowed at the unusually pure aura of her soul. A more innocent soul meant more power. A perfect vessel, with the exception of her sex.
But that can be fixed.
Making up his mind, the incubus turned into a thick fog and sneaked between the gaps of the window and windowsill, surging towards the woman.
It took only a few seconds for the incubus to take control.
First, the incubus quickly sent the soul into a deeper sleep, preventing the woman from disturbing it for the moment. Then, he plucked out a few more details of the woman’s life from said soul.
The woman was ‘Emma’, a homemaker - no, a mother . The traditional type that married straight after high school and proceeded to give birth to a son who was now in college, before her husband passed away in an untimely fashion. Tired and lonely, desiring for more out of her life. More excitement.
A smirk formed on the incubus’s features. That, he could do.
Closing his eyes and clasping Emma’s soul tightly against his own, he made his move. Their auras mixed, the borders that defined souls becoming blurred as his powers crept into her pure soul - corrupting it with his influence.
In Emma’s dreams, she opened her eyes to a familiar sight - a memory of a night when she had touched herself. Normally she would be ashamed - embarrassed. She had been taught many rules and one of which was that it was unbecoming for a woman to feel intimate pleasure outside of sex from a young age. It was inelegant and unladylike. But somehow this dream felt different.
For one, in place of her clit and hole, she had a penis and a large sack hanging underneath it. Stunned, Emma could only stare at it. Unease grew in her heart. Why did she have a cock? She shivered. It looked… strange. Certainly male. But, she was a woman, she shouldn’t, she shouldn’t have such a thing-
It’s a dream .
Her eyes widened. A dream…?
A dream . She shivered as the words swept over her skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake. A pleasant dream just for you .
Oh . She blushed. So - it was just a dream. Her fears were unnecessary and quite silly in retrospect. But for her to dream of having a cock, she might have truly been repressing herself.
Repressed and… curious.
Emma gulped. She eyed her cock. It looked daunting and unfamiliar but - pleasing. Something within her itched to touch it. But-
She chewed her bottom lip. Emma was brought up in a strict family and her lessons in her youth centered on not touching her folds or clit - both of which were rules she had violated and felt guilt over. Her dear Thomas also never wanted her to pleasure his cock or taste him directly - claiming doing so would tarnish her purity, no matter whom she was servicing. Ever since her dear Thomas died, Emma clung onto his ideal of her with desperation.
However, this was just a dream, right…? Would she really be impure for touching herself. For touching a cock? Hesitantly, she reached down, tentatively gripping the shaft.
Instantly, pleasure shot up her spine and a moan escaped her lips before she could stop herself. It felt- good. New and different, but… not bad, exactly. In fact, it felt better than touching her pussy. Eyes bright with this new source of enjoyment, Emma began stroking herself. Again and again - each movement more aggressive, faster, than the one before.
Precum beaded and slid down from her bulbous head, slicking her hands.
Good, so good -! Emma mewled, a delirious smile tugging at her lips. She felt alive - her dick throbbing as she masturbated furiously.
It didn’t take long before she came. Her balls drew up as cum erupted out of her cock in thick, musky ribbons. Shocked, she tried to withdraw her hand, only for the pleasure to hit her and her eyes immediately rolled back into her skull, her expression frozen into a rictus of pleasure, mouth agape.
It was incredible - better than playing with her cunt, better than her husband making love to her - she could hardly believe it.
Emma wanted more .
Licking her lips, Emma dove back in - grabbing and tugging at her cock furiously. Excited as she was, she didn’t notice the dark presence watching her.
From a corner of Emma’s soulscape, the incubus grinned. He was pleasantly surprised at how quickly his new vessel had succumbed to the debauchery. For such a matronly figure, Emma hid lust so potent it was enough to feed a succubus. And it was exactly the type of lust an incubus would possess.
Now, for the final touches.
The incubus snapped his fingers.
In the real world, whilst Emma was lost in her lewd dream, her body began to change.
Her ovaries pulsed, being pulled down by a supernatural force. The eggs inside them were erased to make room for virile seed. Emma’s fertile womb, in which she had nurtured her child for nine months, shrivelled up, cells dying, becoming barren and useless. The slick cunt she prided herself on, dried up and narrowed until it closed up entirely. Her puffy labia forcibly smoothed over, flesh knitting together. her folds smoothening over into nothing more than a shallow dip in her flesh before her perineum. The nerves in and around it were shifted to her swelling clit.
Her clit, like the rest of Emma’s body, had been small and unobtrusive. Demure.
But as it grew, the feminine organ became something much less elegant. The length pushed against the fabric of her panties, forming an indecent bulge. Pulsating veins grew along the shaft. The delicate pink shade - the same colour of her womanhood - darkened into a deep, ruddy red. Glans flared and testes bulged with seed.
Asleep, Emma had no idea that from her pelvis hung an obscene rod of flesh that was distinctly masculine in contrast to the rest of her softer form.
But the incubus was not done yet.
He then gently poked at the woman’s mind, rewiring a few neurons, focusing on the pleasure center of her brain. It wasn’t much. But to avoid unnecessary trouble, and to ensure that his vessel remained lustful and virile, such a change would alter Emma permanently to never return to the homely mother she once was.
Grinning, the incubus then retreated into the woman’s soulscape.
Emma awoke, feeling oddly refreshed. She had just had a strange but wonderful dream. Having a cock was something she had never thought about but she must have missed her husband more than she thought for her subconscious to conjure up a dream of such a reality. Though - it had been nothing like her dear Thomas.
The sensation of touching it, the bliss of coming - it was so different - better, if she were honest with herself. Enough to make her yearn for more.
But dreams were merely dreams. Emma sighed, her heart heavy with disappointment as she headed to the bathroom. Perhaps she should use that vibrator Thomas got her - or get a new one? Something to take the edge off.
Decisions, decisions . She hummed in thought, as she undressed, letting her cock spring free from the confines of her panties. It slapped against her inner thigh, nearly reaching her knee. So similar to the one in her dream-
Emma blinked. She rubbed her eyes.
Nothing changed.
To Emma’s astonishment, a cock like the one she possessed in her dream hung from her groin. It was large - virile . Twice the length of her dear Thomas’s, and as thick as her wrist. A pair of sizable testes complemented her new addition.
Stunned, she touched it gently and shivered. Warmth radiated from her phallus - a few degrees higher than her own body temperature. She could feel it - it was as if it was an extension of her own body, and it was . It was her cock, her penis. The thought was giddying and impossibly arousing - her cock twitching in response to her thoughts.
But- Emma frowned. The situation was - abnormal though. She didn’t have a penis before, much less one so obviously large. Troubled, she bit her bottom lip, wondering about what to do. Maybe she should go to the doctor’s? Oh, but the thought of them possibly removing it - she shuddered in revulsion.
Still, she had to do something.
Blood was rushing to her nethers as she caressed the length, lost in thought. Subconsciously, Emma remembered the motions in her dream and replicated them in real life as if it was second nature to her. Her member swelled, curving towards her belly. Her testes were plump with seed.
When she noticed her erection, she quickly pulled her hand away with a cry. Oh no! What had she done! Horrified, Emma gripped her errant hand tightly.
Breaking one of the rules her Thomas had set out for her - to pleasure herself! And yet-
Her erection twitched. She eyed it, her heart heavy with disappointment in herself and yet, there was a new emotion…
Satisfaction.
Satisfaction at touching herself, her cock. Her member was so wonderfully sensitive that Emma could feel a familiar heat coiling inside her stomach, waiting to be unleashed.
Emma licked her lips. She dimly recalled the sensation of coming from her cunt. The orgasm Thomas gifted her was lovely, of course, but lacklustre. Incomplete. It paled in comparison to a mere dream of coming with her cock - the sensation of her balls drawing up as semen sprayed from her urethra too incredible to forget.
She wanted that. Longed for it. But doing so would tarnish her purity, wouldn’t it? She would no longer be the pure, saintly ‘Emma’ Thomas loved.
Emma’s brows furrowed. Normally, she would feel torn over the decision.
But unbeknownst to her, the incubus’s possession had addled her senses and distorted her sensibilities. Her libido had been heightened to a level similar to his. The longer she went without a release, the stronger the pull of it became until she would pursue it above all else.
As the minutes ticked by, Emma found her attention scattering, her breaths deepening. No - she had to focus! She slapped her cheeks. But her mind refused to obey her command. It kept returning to the fact she had a very obvious erection, and soon, Emma didn’t bother to suppress her errant thoughts anymore.
Unbidden, a whine rose from her throat. Her hips jerked once, twice - desperate for friction. Even the cool air felt good but it wasn’t enough .
Panic filled her breast.
In one last ditch attempt at preserving her purity, Emma gripped the base of her cock tightly, thinking that surely- surely the pain would stop her arousal. To her horror, the opposite occurred and pleasure sparked from that mere touch. She gasped and, shocked as she was, accidentally brought her other hand to her erection as well. Sweat beaded on her brow as she clasped her cock, tugged at it, while sometimes thumbing the bulbous head, anything to make it stop-
But inexperienced as she was, her actions only drove her to depravity.
Emma whimpered, the coil of pleasure in her abdomen tightening despite her efforts. “Oh god, oh god-!” The overwhelming sensations were unbelievable - a tide threatening to pull her under
She moved her hands rapidly up and down her shaft, pulling at her ballsack, desperately trying to hold back her release. The dual sensation of disappointment from perverting her vow to her dear Thomas, and pleasure from said perversion spurred on her movements.
She held her legs open and leaned forward and with the new angle, began furiously thrusting her cock into the hole created by her hands. Something deep within Emma’s mind, rewired by the incubus, lit up at this new position. Her mind blanked. Beads of precum rolled down her shaft and smoothened every stroke, the slick sound music to her ears.
“Ah, ah, ah-!” Emma moaned. “So good, so goood !”
Drool escaped a corner of her mouth as her pace grew more aggressive. The motherly widow was practically feral, her entire mind focused on coming. Yet, not once had she tried to touch her pussy, with all her attention devoted to her cock. Emma’s balls bounced as her hips pounded the air as if it were something she could fuck - and wasn’t that a nice thought? She licked her lips. It might be good to have a nice warm hole she could use whenever she felt like it, something to fill, to breed -
Emma’s eyes widened. She realised her mistake too late.
It was akin to Thomas’s favourite position. Emma gasped in horror at this realisation. She was desecrating his memory and his ideal of her without even trying to resist - a concept so nasty, so perverted, that she- that she never wanted to stop .
And with that thought, the part of Emma that was pure and innocent finally died.
“Thomaaas!” she cried out, her words slurring. “Thomas! Ah- ah! I’m so- ah! I’m soooo sorry- ooooh !”
Pleasure crashed into her. She screamed as cum poured out of her cock in thick, mighty spurts, staining the walls, the floors. Her body shook and fell apart in her ecstasy as she continued to come, eyes rolling back in her head. There was so much of it that the scent of musk filled her bathroom, her lungs heavy with the new incense.
It took several minutes before the flood of cum stopped.
Emma panted. She was sitting in a puddle of her own cum, her nightgown soaked with sweat and her fluids. Her heart was still beating a mile a second, her head spinning. Slowly, she brought up a finger soaked in her cum, and brought it to her lips.
She moaned as she tasted her own seed. Another violation of her vows. But this time, instead of guilt weighing her down, a perverted smile stretched across her motherly features. “Sorry, Thomas,” she purred, eyes darkening. “Looks like I can no longer be your pure wife.”