Ejaculate of the Incubus by The Professor
A timid young academic.
His demure bride.
A moonlit night by the sea.
A variety of disgusting bodily fluids.
Believe it or not, the starting point for this outrageous tale was M R James’ classic work of quiet horror, ‘Oh Whistle and I’ll Come To You.’ Readers familiar with the original will recognise the quintessentially English, reserved tone of the narration, along with the seaside setting, the ancient whistle and the disturbing phantasmagoric shapes perceived in bed sheets. As for the rest, well...James would not want to be associated with such filth. Boring old git.
Godless readers, on the other hand, should be suitably amused. And nauseated. And probably aroused.
Brilliant, sick stuff
The Professor writes like a reincarnation of Bram Stoker, if Stoker was much nastier, more gruesome, and entertaining. I loved hearing about this fluid-drenched, Incubus-inspired honeymoon from one of the best horror authors doing it today. Highly recommend!
DO I NEED THE SEQUEL? YES, ABSOLUTELY.
This was disgusting, but if you think of it, the basic act of sex is rather disgusting, so why not throw in a bunch of...fluids? In all seriousness, impeccable writing. The story comes from the depths of somewhere we don't search inside. But to be that ravenous for another person is enviable. So, maybe a worthwhile mission. Now, where to find an incubus?
New Love And New Fetishes
I knew to propane myself ahead of time for reading this, but GOOD GOD nothing could have prepared me for this. Two timid and awkward honeymooners come across some sort of wind instrument while on a night stroll on the beach and call upon an incubus who turns these virgins into extreme fetish loving fools. After reading this, I’m going to be taking a break from any form of tea for the foreseeable future. Bravo.
"Oh, Whistle and I'll Bukkake You, My Lad"
Can you hear that rapid drumming noise? That's the sound of M.R. James spinning in his grave because of this story; the drumming is his hardon slapping the lid.
I must confess, that is not how it went down
Hi, I am the Incubus referred to in the title of this piece by The Professor. I want to clear a couple of things up: 1. I was walking down the beach minding my own business when I heard this odd honking sound made by a pasty dude blowing into a metal pipe of some kind. I have a condition where priapism results from free jazz, so the result was my turgidity. 2. The chick with this pasty dude was bangin hot. And she was giving me the crazy horny eyes like you wouldn't believe. 3. The dude acts like he was shocked at first by our nighttime activity-nah, the dude was totally into it. Otherwise, this story is pretty much accurate, and well told. Great for the beach or the boudoir!