Incubus Demonio – Sinful Story – Chapter 1

A young man with a dark skin tone and black hair let out a deep breath.

As Django stepped out of the airport, the sudden realization of how just far from home he was hit him almost as hard as the heavy and industrial air that hung over New York City. It had been only a few days since Django had received the gilded letter informing him of his grandfather's death and inviting him to claim the full extent of his inheritance. Still, it already felt as though his entire life had been turned on its head. Even the gifted suit he wore seemed to rub him the wrong way as if the very fabric knew he was out of his depth.

The boy was born and raised in poverty, working dead-end jobs since he was able just to keep the family afloat, and the news that his grandfather had paid off all bills and debts his mother had left to him when she died made this offer one Django could not refuse. The thoughts and feelings coursing through his mind at just what his mysterious grandfather could have left to him run through his mind, not even noticing at first the prim and pretty voice calling out from across the street.

His attention finally directed towards whoever sought it; the boy's jaw dropped at the mere sight. Stood beside a stunning sports car was without a doubt the most gorgeous woman Django had ever seen, waving over with a kind and compassionate smile. "You must be Master Django; it's a pleasure to finally meet you!" The middle-aged beauty greeted with a bow, giving the young man a full view of her curvaceous elven physique.

Django did all he could to maintain eye contact, focusing upon the innocent sights of her light blonde hair and bright-green eyes, anywhere other than her buxom bust and swaying hips as she walked towards him.

An immediate flush struck his cheeks and nethers alike as she suddenly embraced him into an all too enticing hug, plush features pillowing his frame. "My name is Reiko; I worked under your grandfather; he's told me all of your family secrets!" The elf introduced, guiding the still very much flustered Django back to the car. To his surprise, a second elven woman stepped out of the driver's seat to open the door for him, her tomboyish frame hugged tightly in formal butler attire. Again Django's mind was filled with questions, how rich was his grandfather that he could afford all these luxuries? Elves are one of the more expensive races to hire for work like this, with their fey beauty and innate arcane capabilities costing a pretty penny, so to have two at his beck and call lifted Django's hope and expectations even higher.

Reiko exchanged pleasantries with the still stiff and stuffy Django throughout the journey, eventually taking note of just how the young man was looking at her. "Oh my, you truly are his grandson!" Reiko teased, placing a soft and silken hand upon his thigh. "Your grandfather used to blush at me just like that when we first met." Not knowing how to react to the callout and sudden intimacy, stuttering and squirming beneath her elven embrace. Reiko and the driver couldn't help but laugh at his fluster, their teasing having the intended effect.

"You're even just as bad at lying as he was; I wonder what else runs in the family," The driver said with a surprisingly Irish accent, gazing suggestively towards Django in the rearview mirror, only intensifying his blush and their laughter. "Alright, Tracy, I think that's enough teasing for one day," Reiko eventually relented, speaking towards the driver. "The ceremony starts soon, and we don't want to make our sweet little Django here late." Django merely held his head down as they drove towards their destination, eyes quickly directed up however as he spotted the pristine and towering cathedral they were headed towards.

Spotting his inquisitive gaze, Tracy soon began confidently spouting a near-encyclopedic knowledge of the colossal structure, pushing up her glasses several times to only accentuate her obvious intellect. Django's impressionable mind was all but overwhelmed by the sudden cascade of trivia, Reiko having to guide him by hand towards the doorway, finding more and more similarities between him and his grandfather. "This was one of his favorite places, you know. Coincidentally where I as well as your grandmother met him, so it's fitting we have the ceremony here." Reiko said, speaking softly as if to respect the architectural majesty all around her, as well as the occasion of her former Master's funeral.

Django was unsure of what to expect of such a service. The only funeral he had ever attended was his foster parents, which was a lonesome memory he did not care to revisit. Yet as he stepped inside, Django once again found his jaw dropped to the floor as he eyed the masses gathered here in his grandfather's name. But it was not just the sheer number of attendees that awed him, but the fact they were all women of untold beauty. He had thought Reiko the most stunning woman he had ever seen, but each and every one of the people within this grandiose cathedral gave her a run for her money.

Countless questions piled atop those already building throughout this most bizarre of days: "Who are these women? What were they to his grandfather? And how in God's name are they all so beautiful?" As if in impossible answer to questions posed only to himself, a slender figure almost otherworldly in her grace, silver hair flowing without wind and piercing emeralds in place of eyes, arose towards the podium at the forefront of the space. The short blue dress barely covering her legs and a black bandeau barely covering her torso didn't exactly match the traditional attire one would expect at a funeral, but Django was by no means complaining.

Peaking out from the blue veil and the metal headband fit with the Lord's Cross that kept it in place, her pale features readied themselves to address the room. "Preston K. Whitmore was by all accounts an excellent man. I know he meant something as special to me as he did to all others who have graciously attended his passing" She began, her speech marked by the subtly sobbing of many of the women within the room, again making Django question just who exactly they were to him.

"So as you say your farewells alongside one another today, remember fondly that my husband is at peace knowing you are all here beside him," The woman finished, causing only one word to spring to mind.

"BULLSHIT!" Django accidentally said quite definitely aloud, eliciting gasps and stares from those around him, Reiko pulling the young man back down into his seat. "Ah, my grandson, it is a pleasure you could make attendance as the last living heir of the Whitmore family," Django's apparent grandmother said with a bow, finishing her speech, ignoring the odd outcry.

Django spent the rest of the ceremony wondering, amongst many other things, how a woman who looked no older than 35 could have been his grandmother. He saw photos of his grandfather THE dude was ancient! Yet, Reiko assured him there were other more important matters to attend to. Django's eyes lit up as she mentioned the will, pulling out the relevant documents once they were back in the car. "Your grandfather was somewhat of a real estate mogul, and so to you, he has left one of the apartment complexes he owned, his private getaway no less," Reiko said, handing the at this point utterly overwhelmed young man the deed and documents that carried the weight of ownership.

Django couldn't believe it, from renting a shitty apartment to owning an entire complex in the space of a few days. "He also wanted you to have this, his most esteemed belonging," Reiko said with a hint of intrigue, unclasping the lid on a small box, revealing in an impossibly intricate ring of midnight black metal, a large pink gem clasped in its centre. Immediately the bold boy went to try it on but quickly found the lid shut tight by Reiko. "Perhaps you should wait until you are in the privacy of your new home, Master Django..." The elf advised, piquing Django's interest further but convincing him to merely pocked the box for later.

"I'm sure the day has been quite tiresome for you, Master," Reiko purred, patting the plush curves of her thighs. "Why not rest? We shall not arrive at the apartment complex yet for some time". Such an offer was about the only thing Django had been sure about this entire time, quickly agreeing to rest his weary head upon her elven lap, the soft and pillowy thighs as well as the gentle pats Reiko gave as she stroked his hair, sending him soon off to sleep.

In the nebulous fog of his dreams, Django saw himself before a great and powerful demon, one wearing the very same ring he now held within his pocket. But it soon began to fade, vanishing into the abyss that dwelled ever-present all around them but not before reaching out and placing the ring upon the finger of his heir.