Harry the Incubus and Me

Part 11

Info - recovery, cock warming mentioned, missing someone, emotional cheating, impossible relationship, singing to children, stocks, naked in public, whipping, injury, mentions of rape, pining, planning to break up with someone, needing comfort, cheating, witnessing deviant sex

After I'd fallen to sleep with him inside me, I'd been like an insatiable animal. I wanted to see him so bad, but he didn't come. This was odd for him. Harry visited out of some feeling of duty, but I didn't pay it much mind. I knew what I had to do. I knew I needed to let Harry go. I didn't dream of that picket fence anymore, or of our children. I would say no if he proposed. Of course, even knowing all this I was still at a loss for what to do.

Timothée was an Incubus, and ancient being. He was kind, but who was to say his affection wouldn't wane when his target was moved to someone else. Could I stay with him knowing what he HAD to do? How would my life look as a mortal and he a demon? I had so many questions, the only answer I knew was if someone had asked me who I loved, it was Timothée, always him.

"Where is Timothée?" I asked one of the nuns one day, worried he'd already tired of me. Perhaps I'd freaked him out when I'd begged him to warm his cock longer inside my pussy.

"In the stocks Ms.," said one nun.

"The stocks!" I said in horror.

"He disobeyed and provided you after care again. He was let off with a warning before, but he is punished now."

"I need to see him!" I said, and ripped the IV from my arm.

"You aren't healed!" Cried a nun. I didn't care. I ran on shaking legs, pushing away the feelings of faintness and dizziness.

"Timmy!" I called. I didn't know where he was, but the place wasn't that big. However, when I searched all over I didn't find him. I tried to approach the entrance to outside but it must've been day because the heat was much too hot to handle. I worried he was out there baking.

That's when I saw a set of stairs. I didn't even think before taking them. A level down, everything was more oppressive, it was like the air was thicker. Breathing felt like sucking through a straw.

I saw horrible things as I walked. I didn't want to describe the types of sex I witnessed. Some of it looked like the demons weren't even with a human counterpart. It was very disturbing, but I walked forward. I could hear running overhead, and I wondered if it was the nuns searching for me.

By this time I was shaking. I was sweating all over and I couldn't breath properly. My pelvis and vagina ached horribly. My throat was once again raw. Though I knew I'd been emptied by the machine, I felt uncomfortably bloated. Finally, I saw him. I raced forward on aching feet and landed in front of him.

"Y/n?" He croaked. Tears filled my eyes. He was naked. His head through a hole in the wooden stocks, his hands beside them. His neck and wrists were raw. His hair was limp and greasy and his skin was pale. His wings were chained down with some sort of blue stone.

"Timmy," I said sorrowfully. I held his face adoringly.

"I'm so sorry, I didn't know this is what they did when you helped me." I tentatively placed a kiss to his nose and he shuttered.

"I would do it again," he said determinedly.

"No, no, you won't, promise me on the last task you won't give me after care," I said, holding his face still. He said nothing. I knew I couldn't convince him.

"It'll be the last time we have sex, you'll want my help," he said. "The last task is brutal."

I gulped, and not because of his mention of the brutality. The last time. It couldn't be, it just couldn't!

"Timothée, will I really never see you again?" I asked.

"Most likely," he said, avoiding my eyes.

"But you may not get another target for years, you could visit," I offered.

"Oh yeah," he rolled his eyes. "I'm definitely going to have fun visiting Mr. and Ms. Styles and their little children running around. I'm sure a demon will look very natural in your happy home. I'm also sure Harry won't mind that the man who has fucked his wife within an inch of her life, is coming around because she missed him."

I was silent. He'd spoken so intensely, as if the vision was floating before his eyes. I needed to tell him it wasn't like that. I needed to tell him Harry wouldn't be around.

"What are you doing here?" A incubus asked me. He had dark blue skin and horns, but otherwise appeared relatively normal. "The nuns are looking everywhere for you!"

He stood me up, and I gulped. I didn't want to leave Timothée down here in this oppressive wasteland. As I stood I saw his tail was taped to his back, and his ass was red with whip marks. Tears blurred my vision.

"I'll be back!" I said as the guard steered me away.

"No, rest, but when you get out, sing to them for me," Timothée called after me and I knew what he meant.

I only needed two more days of recovery. Before even saying hello to Harry I raced to the surface and thanked God it was night. I sang Timothée's children every comforting song I could think of to make up for his absence, which was my fault anyhow.

When I came back to the room, Harry was asleep. I cringed as he turned to hold me when I laid down. I couldn't sleep no matter what I did. I tossed and turned, wondering how time could pass so slowly. Finally, I rose, I needed to go to Timothée's chambers. Even if he wasn't there, the smell of him would lull me to sleep. I left a note telling Harry not to worry.

I crept down the hall, meeting with no one. Finally, I got to his door and pushed in. It was nearly identical to the room I stayed in, with small Timothée touches like an ancient looking painting, which could've been actually ancient knowing who he was. A guitar stood in the corner, and some other things lay scattered around.

As I approached the bed I saw something was moving. I was shocked when a curly head of hair shifted. I didn't care that he must be exhausted, I pounced.

"Timothée!" I said excitedly. He woke with a start and I noticed he slept naked.

"Y/n? Is this a dream?" He asked.

"No," I said giddily, taking his hands, and intertwining our fingers.

"How are you? Did you just get out?"

"Yeah. I'm better than most that go to the stocks. Not a single one touched me," he said.

"But your, Um, backside," I said heating. "It looked like you'd been whipped."

"Oh I was, I meant no one touched me in a physical way. When one is put in the stocks, they're often raped to humiliate them further."

"That's disgusting," I said in shock.

"I know," he agreed, and I saw the hatred for what he was in his face again.

"I sang to them, I sang to them until my throat was sore," I told him eagerly.

"Thank you," he blessed me. "But, y/n, why are you here?"

"I, I couldn't sleep," I said, looking away.

"Sorry if you were scared, I felt too weak to sleep outside your door," he said, gently brushing a knuckle over my cheekbone and I shivered.

"No, it wasn't that. I just couldn't get comfortable. I knew coming and sleeping in your bed, with your scent around, would soothe me."

"And....why would that soothe you?" He asked in a slow whisper.

"Timothée," I said, looking into his eyes.

"Y/n," he replied. Then I was kissing him. It was unlike any kiss we'd ever shared. This was heavy, and intimate, and romantic and loving. His hands had not gone straight for my body, instead he was holding and caressing my face with shaking hands. He was gasping as I kissed him, need and desire flowing through me into his waiting mouth. I wanted him more than I ever had.