Welcome to Incubus Tales: A Thousand Words by Hushicho. In Noctemberg, it is always night. Dhiar, proprietor and gay incubus, welcomes you to Phantasies, a very special shop. Sensuality is more than just Dhiar’s stock in trade, it is his raison d’être. NSFW.
A new chapter appears every Thursday. This week is Chapter Forty.
Another night passed in a smoky club. All of Chana’s favourite clubs were underground, figuratively if not literally; every last one of them required some sort of secret to access, which heightened the appeal for the Succubus. To her, predictability and ease chipped off great chunks of anything’s allure.
In Dhiar existed a similar sort of sentiment, although it became somewhat daunting that literally every place they went required some considerable procedure only to walk through the door. It exhausted one before even procuring a table.
The performance bolstered his energy, however. The jazz number on-stage ended, the smoky-voiced singer walking to the bar to get himself some refreshment. Dhiar had to admit, there was an appeal to the smart dressing and slick hair, a handsome look out of a men’s clothing advertisement. The clothing this man wore was a bit too crumpled and tired to be anything new, but for a soulful singer it worked well.
The Incubus made his way over. Chana was busy anyway on the other side of the room, hobnobbing with casual acquaintances who would never dream of refusing conversation with her.
“That was magnificent,” Dhiar called out to the other man. “Let me buy you a drink.”
“Just water, if you please.” The singer answered with an appreciative nod and a smile. His features were dark, his skin tanned, and there existed a kind of exotic quality to his face. “I appreciate the praise. Usually I’m not much more than a decoration to go with people’s enjoyment of illicit drinks.”
Dhiar signalled the bartender, who quickly moved to provide two glasses of water. The Incubus presented one and held the other up, saluting as in preparation for a toast.
After half the drink had been drained, well within a minute’s time, the singer returned his eyes to the man before him. “I’m Tommy. Well,” he caught himself, “really that’s my stage name. Everyone calls me Tommy. It’s Tomas, or it was.”
“Tomas. I like that.” Dhiar motioned to his own chest with his free hand. “I am Dhiar.”
“Dhiar!” Tomas repeated, sounding out the zh syllable first. “That sounds exotic! I take it you’re not from around here? Or did you just come to the city?”
“My sister invited me.” He motioned across the room. It was impossible to miss Chana, as usual. The huge red-tinted pheasant feather in her headdress flagged her easily above the rest of the crowd. “I’ve just been taking some time away. I’ve just moved from a place I spent a lot of time in, so now I’m wanting to… just sort of…” He motioned vaguely. “Not forget it, but distract myself.”
Tomas set his now-empty glass down and clapped Dhiar’s shoulder. “Well, if you’d like to distract yourself after the set, I’m going to the Turkish baths down the street.” His eyes glimmered, like tumbled black stones. “I’m told my mother was Turkish. Just keeping it in the family.”
With laughter, they parted at that moment.
An hour and a half later, surrounded by steam and naked otherwise, the two sat in a large domed room. Muscles glistened and moisture beaded on supple skin, giving it almost the appearance of candied fruit.
Tomas had a nice body, Dhiar reflected. Not too thin, shoulders just broad enough, and perky between the legs, though somewhat relaxed by the heat. He made no attempt to disguise his wandering eyes, and Tomas certainly didn’t seem to mind, leaning back and spreading legs and arms, as if coincidentally.
“It’s busier here earlier in the morning and later at night. This is always the best time to come with friends.” Tomas stretched his arms up and moved to the side, draping himself over Dhiar’s lap and grinning up at him. “Or the best time to come if you want some privacy.”
“You’d better watch it, that can be dangerous territory!” Dhiar laughed, reaching down to walk his fingers through Tomas’s chest hair, stretching out like a bloom from the centre of his chest. “Sometimes spikes come up and poke at the back of your head.”
The singer wiggled his head, chuckling and folding his hands over his stomach. “I’ll just have to take that risk! So… tell me a bit more about yourself.”
“What would you like to know?”
“Well… where do you come from?”
Dhiar grinned broadly down at the man. “You would never in a million years believe me.”
“Oh, come on! You know where I’m from!”
“I come from the Abyss,” Dhiar replied easily. “See?” And with that, he pointed up to the small horns, exposed by his slicked-back wet hair.
The first impulse for Tomas was to become afraid, but something about Dhiar made him not want to be afraid, nor to be uncomfortable. An instant’s tension melted into amusement. “Oh, is that so? It must be a nice place, if there are more like you there. Or did you leave because there weren’t?”
“Oh no, there are many like me there. I guess I’m about average.” Dhiar laughed deeply again, rubbing along the other man’s chest.
“Average!” Tomas nearly choked. His new friend, he felt sure, was many things. “Average” did not number among them.
“Oh, there are plenty of more interesting sorts, I should think. Especially for you.” Dhiar ran his first fingertip around the curve of a nipple, bringing it from soft shapelessness to a firm point. “Plenty of better singers and musicians, for one. I dabble, but you know, I’m not really that much of a music-creator, myself…”
Tomas reached up, turning slightly, and found himself face-to-face with Dhiar’s rising erection. Swallowing hard, he pulled his eyes away from the sight. He parted his lips, looking up, as if to ask a question that faded before escaping his mouth.
He took the Incubus on his tongue and sank his head down. The taste thrilled him, bringing him to full excitement too. It had been too long, and his body responded to each and every touch and caress.
Dhiar closed his eyes, lips curling up in satisfaction.
* * *
About the author: From an early age, Hushicho held a special passion for storytelling. Throughout his life, he has worked in numerous media and various places in the world. He is the author of the long-running Incubus Tales webcomic, upon which this serial is based.
Welcome to the intriguing city of dreams, Noctemberg, where it is always night, and to Phantasies, a very special shop run by Dhiar, proprietor and gay incubus. Sensuality is more than just Dhiar's stock in trade, it is his raison d'etre. In Incubus Tales: A Thousand Words, Dhiar meets new loves, rekindles relationships, and bring his special brand of sexual healing to lovers and readers alike.
Also available in paperback!