"There's no mention that you are of incubus blood in our files, Mr. Zabini." Blaise gave a start and sank back in his chair, arms now tucked into his armpits as he'd done as a small child getting a scolding. "Now, it's nothing to be ashamed of, Blaise. After all," the auror leaned forward and grinned darkly, "it takes one to know one."
Blaise huddled farther away, caught, recognized...trapped. His mother had warned him that other incubi would hate him, would rend him limb from limb...
"It's been too long, hasn't it, little one?" Blaise had missed the auror rising from his seat and moving around the table to stand at his side. "You've been surrounded by flesh and temptation for weeks without a chance to properly feed, haven't you?" A large, strong, powerful hand curled around Blaise's shoulder and pulled him into the standing man's side, against his muscular thigh. Something in Blaise loosed and he relaxed into the heat, the power.
"I can help you, little one. I can make it a little bit better." The auror's other hand turned Blaise's face up. "Would you like to feel better?" Blaise nodded against that perfect thigh. "Then stand up, boy, and sit on the edge of the table."
The auror--Blaise thought he should at least call him Kingsley in his own mind if not aloud--settled Blaise on the edge of the table, practiced hands undoing his trouser's fastenings until his penis was poking out between the placket halves. It was only half-hard, but when the--Kingsley--leaned forward and blew gently on it, Blaise's eyes rolled into the back of his head; the power contained in that breath was so heated, so lush, he felt overcome and his cock, for that's what it was doing, rising to the occasion like a cockerel with the sun-- stiffened under Kingsley's watchful gaze.
"Have you been touched by an other incubus before, little one?" Kingsley said so closely to Blaise's cock that it vibrated in sympathy with the timbre of his deep voice.
"N-n-no..." Blaise moaned. His power was thrashing inside its cage, crying out for release.
"We do not touch one another, little one. We breathe into each other." And, suiting words to action, Kingsley placed both hands on the side of Blaise's thighs and blew a steady stream of heat, and light, and power onto the young man's penis, stiffening it still further, until it was a polished bit of darkened porcelain, a rubbed and worked piece of purplish jade that throbbed and bounced with each broken breath Blaise took in and let loose.
Kingsley leaned back enough to gaze into Blaise's eyes. "Don't hold back, little one. I am no mere mortal. You are incubus, and you should revel in it." He put his head back down, closer now, but still not touching and put his open mouth just above the weeping cockhead. "Give me your essence, little one, and I will return in tenfold."
Blaise huddled farther away, caught, recognized...trapped. His mother had warned him that other incubi would hate him, would rend him limb from limb...
"It's been too long, hasn't it, little one?" Blaise had missed the auror rising from his seat and moving around the table to stand at his side. "You've been surrounded by flesh and temptation for weeks without a chance to properly feed, haven't you?" A large, strong, powerful hand curled around Blaise's shoulder and pulled him into the standing man's side, against his muscular thigh. Something in Blaise loosed and he relaxed into the heat, the power.
"I can help you, little one. I can make it a little bit better." The auror's other hand turned Blaise's face up. "Would you like to feel better?" Blaise nodded against that perfect thigh. "Then stand up, boy, and sit on the edge of the table."
The auror--Blaise thought he should at least call him Kingsley in his own mind if not aloud--settled Blaise on the edge of the table, practiced hands undoing his trouser's fastenings until his penis was poking out between the placket halves. It was only half-hard, but when the--Kingsley--leaned forward and blew gently on it, Blaise's eyes rolled into the back of his head; the power contained in that breath was so heated, so lush, he felt overcome and his cock, for that's what it was doing, rising to the occasion like a cockerel with the sun-- stiffened under Kingsley's watchful gaze.
"Have you been touched by an other incubus before, little one?" Kingsley said so closely to Blaise's cock that it vibrated in sympathy with the timbre of his deep voice.
"N-n-no..." Blaise moaned. His power was thrashing inside its cage, crying out for release.
"We do not touch one another, little one. We breathe into each other." And, suiting words to action, Kingsley placed both hands on the side of Blaise's thighs and blew a steady stream of heat, and light, and power onto the young man's penis, stiffening it still further, until it was a polished bit of darkened porcelain, a rubbed and worked piece of purplish jade that throbbed and bounced with each broken breath Blaise took in and let loose.
Kingsley leaned back enough to gaze into Blaise's eyes. "Don't hold back, little one. I am no mere mortal. You are incubus, and you should revel in it." He put his head back down, closer now, but still not touching and put his open mouth just above the weeping cockhead. "Give me your essence, little one, and I will return in tenfold."