Turned by the Incubus

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Tristan vowed to fight evil, but then he meets an Incubus.
2.1k words
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Part 1 of the 2 part series

Updated 06/08/2023
Created 10/03/2017
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"You must be careful," Father Jonathan said, blessing the flagon of water before Tristan went out. "We don't exactly know what kind of demon the townspeople have been forced to deal with. All we know is that several men have been killed over the past few weeks, their bodies turned to ashes."

Tristan nodded gravely, taking the flagon into his hands. He had his armour on, and his sword was strapped to his back. It was one of the holy swords of their Order, sworn to slay all demons that entered the realm of humans. "I understand, Father." He strapped the flagon to his belt. "I will investigate and report back once I have identified the type of demon."

This wasn't his first journey, and he had slain several types of demons, but this was the first time he would go out by himself to do the initial reconnaissance. He had holy water with him, along with his sword, and he could always recite the prayers necessary to keep demons of any type at bay. He would be fine.

The journey to the small town to the west was short, only three days on horseback, and the townspeople were relieved to see him. He spent an hour in the local tavern, more to inspire hope in the townspeople than because he needed the rest. Tristan was heartened by the faith they had in his Order.

"Don't worry," he told the mayor. "I will investigate what kind of creature you are facing, and then I can help you take precautions so you won't be attacked again while I head back to get more Knights so we can defeat the evil demon once and for all."

The mayor nodded, but looked nervous. "Are you sure you cannot kill it already?"

Tristan didn't want to give undue hope. "It is too much of a risk," he explained. "Unless it is a lesser demon, but since you found bodies that had been burned to ashes, I doubt that." He gave the mayor a smile. "But whatever demon it is, I promise you that I can help you protect the town."

He ventured out into the woods, where the demon had taken up its abode. The mayor had explained that there were old cabins in there, used occasionally by lumberjacks or hunters. The first victim had been one of those lumberjacks. The next had been a hunter, and after that, no one had dared to go into the woods.

Tristan was alert as he led his horse deeper into the woods. The mayor had told him where the cabins were, and the first one was quiet and empty. The second one was too, but the third one was inhabited.

He unclasped his sword, removing it from its scabbard. It had a faint glow, already sensing an evil presence. Tristan nodded to himself as he got off his horse. The demon lurked inside.

He went up to the cabin, his sword in his hand. "I command you, demon, show yourself!" he shouted, then recited one of the prayers of protection.

He heard something rustle in the cabin, and stepped back. His heart was pounding in his chest.

"Oh, hello."

Tristan frowned. Instead of a foul and vicious looking demon, a tall man opened the door. He was wearing sturdy boots and brown trousers, his upper body exposed. His chest was broad and muscular, fine hairs covered his chest. Tristan lowered his sword a fraction. "Are you alone in there?"

The man nodded, looking Tristan in the eye. "I am," he said, his voice low and smooth. "And so, it seems, are you."

This didn't look like any of the demons Tristan was familiar with, but his sword glowed nevertheless. He glanced at his sword, then at the man again. Wait, his hair was darker now, and he was taller, his biceps thicker and more impressive.

Tristan blinked, confused. "You changed."

The man stepped forward, onto the grass. "Yes. You like it?" He spread his arms, showcasing his broader chest, smooth and hairless, showing off his well-defined muscles.

"No!" Tristan scowled. His heart was racing in his chest. This had to be the demon, but why was he such a handsome man? Demons were ugly, foul creatures, not men built like the statues of the heroes of legend.

Not that Tristan had spent a lot of time looking at those statues.

The man's grin widened. "Oh, but I think you do, good Sir," he murmured, his voice seductive. "I think you like it a lot." He stared deep into Tristan's eyes, reaching for him with one hand.

Tristan felt compelled to lower his sword, to move closer. "You're a demon," he muttered, trying to steel himself. He took one step towards the demon, who was looking even more handsome now. His hair was wavy now, his face clean-shaven, his eyes a piercing blue. He looked like a true hero.

"Mmm, so they say. Shouldn't you investigate that?" the man said, smiling in a friendly manner. "Closely? Closer still?" He beckoned Tristan.

Tristan took another step, then froze. No, what was he doing? This was a demon, and he had heard of these creatures. Incubi. They could turn themselves into desirable men, and were able to read minds well enough to change themselves. But why was this incubus changing? Tristan wasn't attracted to men. "I will destroy you," he said.

He had taken a vow to destroy demons. He had dedicated his life to it, choosing this duty rather than a chance to marry and have children. Being a Knight came with a vow of chastity. Since Tristan had never met a woman he did desire, that vow came easy.

"Mm, I don't think you will," the incubus told him. His eyes remained locked with Tristan's. "Why don't you lower your sword, good Sir?"

He lowered his sword, then shook his head. He did not desire men. Men did not desire other men, it was ridiculous and wrong and forbidden.

Sure, men were to be admired. Strong, noble men, like the heroes of legend. Tristan had spent a lot of time looking at their statues, taking in their strong bodies and proud faces. As was tradition, the heroes of legend were depicted naked, so as to show that they were human, and that all humans could be heroes like them.

Looking at those statues excited Tristan. They inspired him to work hard. He wanted to be like those men, strong and noble and brave. He wanted to make them proud.

The incubus looked just like them. His strong jawline, his commanding eyes, the slight wave of his dark hair, his thick biceps... But no, this wasn't a hero, this was a demon.

A demon that excited him like the statues.

"Lower still," the demon murmured, lowering his own hand.

Tristan stared at him, and found the tip of his sword resting on the ground. "Why?" was all he could manage. It was hard to think with the man's eyes staring into his own, into his very soul.

"Because I want to be closer to you," the incubus replied, smiling as he moved closer, only a few feet away from Tristan. "Don't you want to be closer to me?"

He did. He shouldn't, but he did. "Yes," he whispered.

The incubus reached out to touch Tristan's bare hand, and Tristan gasped. Hot desire coursed through him, spreading from his hand to the rest of his body. He moaned, closing his eyes, and felt his cock grow hard instantly. "Oh my," the incubus said, "so much desire that you have ignored and repressed, you poor thing."

Tristan gasped, dropping his sword. Thoughts and mental images raced through his mind. All those thoughts that he tried not to think when he looked upon the statues of those heroes. Those thoughts that were wrong to have. "No!" No, he had worked hard to ignore those thoughts. He was a Knight. He was a good man.

"Yes," the incubus said, wrapping his fingers around Tristan's wrist. "Yes, my good Sir. Come now, let's see what other desires you have locked up that I can unleash."

Another wave of desire, and Tristan tried to pull away, but the incubus' grip was tight.

"Yes, a desire to serve, of course, that is obvious," the incubus murmured. "I should've known. Good Sir, get on your knees for me."

Tristan fell to his knees, his wrist still held tight by the demon. His cock was so hard it felt like it would burst. "Please," he whimpered. He couldn't stop the thoughts anymore. The thoughts about what it would be like if those heroes were still alive. What it would be like to serve those heroes as their loyal servant. To do anything for them they might want, so that they would be pleased with Tristan. To kneel down before them and worship their powerful, beautiful bodies.

"Mm, I think that can be arranged."

There was a white flash, and Tristan gasped in shock. His armour, his sword, it was gone.

So, it turned out, were the trousers and boots of the incubus.

Tristan stared up at him, his eyes travelling up the incubus' powerful thighs, his thick cock, jutting out from amidst dark pubic hair, his flat stomach and broad chest, up to his smiling face. He felt his own cock jerk with desire. "Please," he said, his eyes wide.

This man was too beautiful, too powerful to refuse. He deserved Tristan's servitude.

There was a reason as to why Tristan shouldn't, but he couldn't remember it. The man was bad, wasn't he? But how could he be? He looked like a hero.

The man moved closer, his other hand coming to rest on top of Tristan's head, his fingers sliding through Tristan's hair. "You wish to serve me, don't you?"

Tristan nodded. "Oh, yes, please! Please!"

"You may serve me by sucking my cock," the man said.

Tristan gasped. That was wrong, wasn't it? But before he could protest, the man had thrust forward, pulling Tristan's head closer, and pushing his cock inside Tristan's mouth.

Tristan moaned. Oh, it tasted so good, it felt so right to have another man's cock in his mouth. Why was this supposed to be wrong?

He looked up at the man as he licked and sucked. He hoped the man would be pleased.

The man kept smiling down at him, his blue eyes boring into Tristan's. "Yes, just like that, my good Sir. Just like that." The man groaned, and Tristan increased his efforts. He wanted to make the man proud that he had chosen Tristan as his servant.

Tristan lost all track of time as he sucked and licked, his own hands resting on the man's thighs. He could feel the hard muscle underneath the skin, and moaned when the man pulled his face closer and made him take more of his cock down his throat.

Soon, the man came down his throat, and it tasted like the sweetest nectar. It seemed neverending, so much come shot down his throat, filling Tristan completely. He felt light and warm.

The man then pushed him back and knelt in front of Tristan. He placed his hands on Tristan's cheeks, and began muttering something in a language Tristan didn't understand. It sounded wrong and dark, and he gasped as the light feeling inside of him became heavy. So heavy. And then it began to hurt.

"No!" Tristan cried out, but the man kept a tight hold on his face. "No!"

The man continued to chant, his language growing harsher and more guttural. When he finished, it was like being struck by lightning.

Tristan cried out in pain, and felt the man's arms go around him as he was pulled to the man's chest. He sobbed and heaved, as the pain spread through his body.

Eventually, it passed, and Tristan could breathe again. "What - what did you do?" he asked, his head still resting against the man's shoulder.

"I have turned you into one of our own," the man said, stroking Tristan's back. "The purest humans make the strongest demons, and you were very pure before you met me." He leaned back, looking down at Tristan. "Since I made you, I am your Master now. And as your Master, I command you to go back to your Order, seduce the Father of your Order, and bring him to me so I may turn him as well."

Tristan wanted to shake his head, wanted to say no, but found that he couldn't. The power inside of him was growing, and it was impossible to refuse his Master. "Yes, Master," he found himself saying, and stood up. "I will do as you command."

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ShibnicityShibnicityover 6 years ago
Nearly turned me

I identify as a heteroflexible male with way stronger tendencies towards the hetero side. But this little short made me want to suck that cock. Your descriptive prowess is amazing. You know how to provide the nice lewd and juicy details without going so far into the details it gets tedious. I mean I in general won't even read slash, but that was just something out of an erotic storytellers wet dream.

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