• The cascade of chocolate brown hair that rolled off the mystery man’s shoulders gleamed red in the invisible light, with his glass bottle blue eyes that seemed to swallow Amaya, and skin like cream in coffee that glowed in what could have been fire light. The God like beauty hovering above her was her perfect dream. Though his actions were less than dream like. Amaya’s limbs were pinned under his weight; her legs spread wide allowing him total access to her treasure. The mystery man took his time tormenting her body sending her nerves into a full on war with her sanity. Her head felt as though she had been drugged; her consciousness floated somewhere out of range so that she could not make her body respond. Amaya’s voice was weak, like the sound of shredded autumn leaves blowing down a vacant street. She tried to struggle for freedom though that only served to please him further. A whisper came from nowhere and seeped into every crevasse of her mind.
    “The more you resist me the more this will hurt, human. Not that resistance would do you any good; you are completely powerless here, my sweet.” It was undoubtedly his voice. It washed over Amaya’s body like a strip of black satin scorching her in its wake. She exhaled with the pleasurable pain of it. The dream man made a twisted smile as his victim squirmed beneath him. His mouth found its way to her throat leaving a trail of butterfly kisses and burning need. Amaya’s arms were still weighed down as his hands began to wonder; first to her upper arms traversing them to her shoulders then following the trail of kisses. His lips were like liquid nitrogen against her skin; she did all she could to pull her body away from them. His hands fondled her breasts gently at first and more vigorously as he brought his head back to them. Amaya felt something wet glide up the contour of them and again flicking her n****e as her lover’s tongue lost connection with her flesh. The shock wave it sent through her body was unbearable; her back arched involuntarily moving her closer to him. The human felt hot in places she had forgotten could give off that kind of heat. Her body became little more than a circuit under her nightmare lover’s control. His attention stayed on Amaya’s breasts until he could smell the clear liquid seeping from the secret place between her legs which was still in full view as his knees still held her legs trapped. Amaya felt his lips curl into yet another twisted smile and he left for the wondrous river.
    Amaya pleaded to her senses to wake up and escape the torture her sleeping had brought upon her. The black satin voice came again whispering a taunt that broke her focus and sent her into the thrall of madness. She writhed as the nightmare man feasted on the torrent pouring from the juncture of her legs. Each connection of his tongue sent a jolt up Amaya’s spine making her arch again and created a rippling reaction. Like the waves of a strummed guitar string her back expanded and contracted bring her farther then closer to his seething mouth.
    “Please…no more!” She was finally able to breath between spasms her body felt so weak and heavy under his. His face came into view again; his eyes reminded Amaya of a bottle of Bombay Sapphire gin. Her eyes grey and cloudy were filled with tears and staring at the heavens. How could you do this to me?! She thought blaming whatever higher power was listening. Amaya’s nightmare figure came to her face and kissed her eye lids as she cried and lapped away the tears that had fallen down her cheek. Once he was through he continued the task that he had set about doing when he raised his head. Amaya felt his monstrous length push into her, robbing her of any innocence she had left. She inhaled sharply and her eyes went wide in alarm. With her eyes open wide she suddenly was able to see the figure much more clearly. Other than the features she had already made out, Amaya could see horns protruding out of the side of his head. They sprouted back and curled down and then forward curving upward at the ends. Behind his head she could make out wings like a bat or dragon and beyond them the thin end of a tail with a fin-like tip. This man was no dream; He was an Incubus.
    Amaya had read many references about Incubi in many demonology books. Most had a very religious way of ridding one’s self of the creature. However, Amaya was not a very religious person. Trying to think while the demon hammered away at her discipline of control was immeasurably difficult; but if there was anything Amaya was good at it was being stubborn. She struggled to recall one story of a woman who said that she had tamed the incubus. Amaya ran over the paragraphs of her story to remember how the woman had done it. The memory flashed into her mind’s eye and was gone; luckily it was just long enough for Amaya to put the method into action. The twenty four year old woman was not entirely familiar with the act of sex but she knew enough to at least pretend like she knew what she was doing. He had been watching her since he began thrusting inside her warm and throbbing passage and he did not seem to know what it was she was thinking; that was good. Amaya picked up the rhythm to which he was moving relatively quickly, her arms were able to move once she gave up fighting against him. She positioned her hands locked at the back of his neck, and wrapped her newly freed legs around his hips pushing his p***s farther inside her.
    “About time you gave up, Human.” He grunted sweat dripping off his forehead. He was so close to release, Amaya could tell that much. She had to time her movements just right. She found the base of his tail with her foot and worked to wrap it around her ankle. A few more hard thrusts and the incubus came; at the same time Amaya yanked his tail hard with both her feet. The incubus’s eyes went hazy blue and wide then closed tightly as he screamed in pleasure. In that instant Amaya woke with a shriek of pleasure and a sharp pain in her p***y. She could feel the sheet tighten as the incubus’s toes curled and his back all the way to the tail still wrapped around her foot snapped into a perfect arch. Amaya’s body went limp, she felt like one of those wooden snakes kids win at carnivals. The incubus still hovered above her, propped up on his hands and knees panting. His head was hung his raw coffee bean hair dripping with perspiration. Finally, he looked at the human woman below him,
    “How did you know about that?” He panted in a pitch that sounded almost impossible with his dark satiny voice. Amaya was silent due in large part to the lack of energy to say anything. After a few moments her finger twitched, and her wrist turned to the bed sheet. She mustered enough motivation to prop herself up on her elbows and meet the incubus’s gaze. In a low barely audible whisper she answered him. “A BOOK?” He squawked. She nodded and continued.
    “A long time ago. Sometime in the fifteen hundreds a woman, accused of being a witch stood trial. She put forth all her secrets in a book the jury called the Book of Flesh, largely because she bound it with human and animal flesh. Inside she wrote how she controlled her incubus, she called him Kashir. The first time she referrers to him she explains how she captured him by pulling his tail and giving him an orgasm. Much like I just did. It took me four times to get it right.” She felt victorious despite the fact that she had been sapped of a portion of her life force. The incubus scooted back away from the woman and onto his heels.
    “So that’s why we couldn’t find anyone who was willing to come here. They must have figured out what you were up to.” He said under his breath. Amaya smirked; still leaning back on her elbows and her multifaceted brown hair shielding most of her face,
    “Too bad they didn’t tell you.” She replied sarcastically lowering her body back onto the mattress. She rolled onto her side and fell into deep sleep.

    The morning found Amaya still on her side hugging a body pillow and the incubus crouching in a shady corner of the bed room. His guise was that of the dream man who had invaded the dreams of his newly acquired master. He didn’t say anything as he watched her wake from her slumber as the digital clock atop the shelf displayed the hour of twelve. Amaya sat up naked under the sheet she used for cover. She stared at the shamed heap in the corner and pulled her covers around her then approached him cautiously and sat next to the incubus.
    “What’s your name?” She whispered. He inhaled slowly and answered a little embarrassed. “Matthew sounds a little biblical for an incubus.”
    “I know. I never liked my name; it was chosen by my parents.” He explained. Amaya made a thoughtful face and turned to him.
    “Why don’t you change it?” She suggested grabbing Matthew’s wrist and pulling him from the floor. Amaya dragged the reluctant incubus to her book case. “I have to take a shower you can look through my books and pick out any name you want. Sound like an idea?” Matt nodded silently looking at the floor. He reminded Amaya of a child that was being scolded by an angry mother; he looked like all the shadows in the world were creeping up on him and might just swallow him whole.
    Amaya left Matthew flipping through Anne Rice books writing names on a piece of lined paper. The first book he looked through was Taltos then every installment of the Vampire Chronicles as he read he wrote down all the names that he fancied. Then he picked up Servant of the Bones by Anne Rice and wrote the names that caught his attention. Matt then spied the Nightwalker series by Jacquelyn Frank. He found very few names that did not have a biblical reference and replaced the books on Amaya’s shelf. Content with his pile of names Matthew began combing through the list and picking the names that sounded the best to him. The names Rowan, Cyrus, Azriel, Marius, Mael, and Tiberius made his second list and from that list he picked three. Matthew thought long and hard about the name he wished to be called by his master. No doubt that the demons of his world would not accept his new name willingly; especially his family. He scratched his head and tapped the eraser of the mechanical pencil against his bottom lip as he tried to make a decision.
    The incubus looked up from his list as Amaya entered the room clad in nothing but a towel and holding her sheet balled up in one hand. She ruffed up the front of her drenched brown hair which looked black when it was wet and sat beside her incubus.
    “So what names have come up with?” She asked bouncing on the inner coils of the mattress. She snatched the paper from the dinner tray in front of Matthew. “Azriel, Tiberius, and Marius, huh?” She thought a moment, “Well…Tiberius is a good name but not really one I feel like explaining when or if I have to introduce you to anybody I know. Marius is the name of my dog, which will end up being massively confusing.” She ran down the three names like a grocery list and handed the paper back to Matthew. He took it with pencil in hand and crossed out Marius and Tiberius.
    “Then I assume my name is to be Azriel. I actually kind of like that name. It’s not really biblical but it has a sort of angelic sound. With this face I could very well be mistaken for an angel, couldn’t I?” He inquired gesturing to the face from Amaya’s dream. The face had very handsome features, gorgeous almond eyes with full dark lashes and an aristocratic nose above full chiseled lips placed perfectly above a strong angled jaw. His hair was thick and straight with a slight wave around his shoulder and had the characteristics of silk strings the color of mocha that hung just passed his shoulders. She nodded and stood facing him,
    “Very well, my little incubus. From now on your name is Azriel!” Amaya announced still holding the towel closed and pointing at Azriel’s face with her free hand. “So Azriel, as a newly tamed incubus; what will you do now?”
    “I suppose whatever you tell me to do, master.” Azriel replied with a grimace of displeasure. Amaya cringed as though she had witnessed a horrible event,
    “Don’t call me that, please. That is my first edict: you are not to call me “Master”. Is that clear, Azriel?” She declared holding herself in a very regal fashion. The incubus was puzzled but he did not allow it to show. Azriel agreed to call his master by name. “Good. Now do you mind? I have to get dressed.” She gestured for him to turn around and face the wall away from her towel clad form. Again the incubus did nothing.
    “It’s not as though I haven’t seen your bare body.” He pointed out cocking his head slightly to the right and looking rather mischievously into her eyes. Amaya’s face flushed pale pink at his gaze; his bottle blue eyes were a force to be reckoned with. They bore holes in the very soul of whatever he was looking at, and at that moment Amaya was in their power.
    The sensation crawled up Amaya’s spine and spread like water poured onto a flat surface. Her arms dropped as if they were tied to a hoard of anchors and the towel she had been clutching to her breast fell to the floor in a whisper of fabric. She was bare once again before the incubus she had tamed. Azriel didn’t move a muscle while he watched his power wash over her, nor did he make a move to touch her. His voice reverberated so seductively within Amaya’s skull.
    “You may be my master, little human, but you will always be a slave to my power.” Just as quickly as the dizzying swell of arousal came it disappeared, leaving Amaya rose red and scrambling for the towel that now lay on the floor at her feet. She glared at the incubus who sat looking coy and innocent on the edge of her queen sized bed. “Did I make my point clear?” Amaya turned to her armoire and pulled out the outfit she would wear to work.
    “If there is something you have to do, go do it. Whether it is tormenting some poor girl in her bed or going back the hell to deliver your souls to the devil or whatever it is you do.” She said annoyed with how little respect he had for his master. Azriel smirked and stood crossing the room to sit in an arm chair situated against the far wall. He slouched into the cushion staring at the glow in the dark stars on the ceiling,
    “What if what I need to do is pester a petulant twenty four year old child in her cubicle?” A smug chuckle came from somewhere deep in his chest. Amaya felt his eyes on her again. She cocked her head to look at him. She would not have a battle of wills with an incubus who was more than likely a few hundred years her senior. “Come now, woman, lie and tell me you don’t like the way you feel when I am near you.” He challenged in his seductive satiny voice suddenly behind his master and seizing her hips in his iron grip. Amaya spun around to face him. She hadn’t noticed how tall he was; she only stood a half a foot shorter than him at five feet and four inches. He was wearing torn blue jeans that he must have materialized while she was still asleep, and a fitted black button up long sleeve shirt that showed of his sculpted bare chest. On his wrist were three bracelets two on his left wrist and one on his right. The bracelet on right was a thick chain with a single gothic cross hanging on a thinner chain. The bracelets on his left wrist were made of onyx and jade. The onyx beads were shaped into occult symbols and the jade beads were carved with oriental markings and characters.
    “Please tell me you’re just trying to annoy me, Azriel.” She pleaded annoyance sweeping over her countenance; if that was his goal he was reaching it at an alarming rate. The golden tan skinned beauty gave her a smug half smile and released her hips. Azriel held the palms of his hands to the ceiling as he retreated from the human woman. Once at a safe distance he stuffed them into the pockets of the ripped jeans.
    “If you want me just call my name. I’ll be in Hell waiting for you to summon me, my master.” He disappeared with a snap of air and the stench of sulfur. Amaya yelled after him,
    “I told you not to call me that!” She could hear his laughter in the back of her mind as well as lingering in the air of the room. She breathed a sigh of exhaustion and continued getting ready for work.