Zenith of Desire: The Hollywood Incubus

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******

At first, Diana simply sighed, her eyelids fluttering.

A pleasant warmth began to spread through her lower back, subtle and teasing. It felt... nice. Comforting, even. But as the first layered notes of Marvin’s voice entered the song, that warmth began to deepen, turning richer, heavier, more insistent. It traveled upward along her spine like invisible fingers tracing her skin.

Her breathing slowed, then gradually deepened.

The elegant walls of Kensington Palace seemed to soften and blur at the edges. Her mind, usually so tightly guarded by royal duty and years of emotional restraint, started to loosen. Slowly, almost lazily at first, vivid images began to drift into her consciousness — not forced, but coaxed out from the deep well of longing she had buried for so long.

A deep, throbbing, hypnotic hum rolled out of the speakers — not a normal bassline, but a dark, ancient vocal frequency crafted by a high-ranking Succubus. It bypassed Diana’s ears completely and struck straight at the base of her spine like a velvet hammer, igniting every dormant nerve ending in her body.

Diana gasped sharply, her eyes flying wide open.

The reaction was immediate, violent, and devastating.

Where Miranda had been a trembling teenager teetering on the edge of awakening desire, Diana was a grown woman — a beautiful, elegant, royal woman who had spent her entire adult life aching in silence, starved of true passion, raw devotion, and the kind of all-consuming lust that could make her forget her title, her duties, and her pain.

The concentrated Incubus magic sensed that vast, untouched reservoir of longing inside her and set it ablaze like gasoline thrown onto an open flame.

A suffocating wave of blistering heat crashed over her entire body. The grand walls of Kensington Palace dissolved into nothing. Her mind was seized, hijacked, and flooded with a relentless barrage of vivid, filthy, intoxicating visions.

She saw Marvin’s flawless face... but more commanding in the vision. His ocean-blue eyes looked down at her with dark, possessive hunger. She felt the phantom brush of his strong hands resting lightly on her waist, thumbs stroking slow circles over the silk of her night dress. The scent of his expensive cologne wrapped around her like an embrace.

Diana’s lips parted in a soft exhale. Her hand unconsciously drifted to her stomach, fingers tracing light patterns over the thin fabric.

As the song’s hypnotic layering grew richer, the warmth in her core intensified. A slow, molten heat began to pool low in her belly, spreading outward in lazy waves. Her thighs pressed together instinctively as the first hints of real arousal stirred between her legs — a gentle throb that made her shift on the sofa.

She felt strong, flawless hands — Marvin’s hands — gripping her waist with bruising possession, yanking her back against a hard, muscular body. She smelled his signature expensive cologne mixed with the raw, masculine scent of his skin. She saw his ocean-blue eyes, no longer those of the charming boy she knew, but the deep, predatory, ancient gaze of the sovereign Incubus soul burning inside him — staring down at her with absolute, devouring ownership.

The images were drenched in raw, frantic lust:

As the song’s hypnotic layering grew richer, the warmth in her core intensified. A slow, molten heat began to pool low in her belly, spreading outward in lazy waves. Her thighs pressed together instinctively as the first hints of real arousal stirred between her legs — a gentle throb that made her shift on the sofa.

”Ah...” she breathed, the sound barely audible.

The images deepened. Now she saw Marvin pulling her closer, his mouth brushing the sensitive skin of her neck, teeth grazing lightly. His hands slid lower, cupping her ass and squeezing with deliberate possession. In the vision, she arched into him, feeling the hard press of his body against hers, the unmistakable bulge of his cock straining against fabric.

Diana’s breath hitched. Her free hand moved higher, cupping one full breast through the silk night dress. She squeezed gently at first, then firmer, rolling her thumb over her rapidly hardening nipple. A soft moan escaped her lips as the pleasure built in slow, delicious waves.

The Incubus magic continued its patient seduction, amplifying every suppressed desire she had carried for years — the hunger for passion, for being truly wanted, for being taken and worshipped without restraint.

By the midpoint of the track, the heat had become overwhelming. Sweat began to bead along her collarbone. Her hips rocked subtly against the cushions as the throbbing between her thighs grew insistent. She slipped one hand between her legs, pressing the heel of her palm firmly against her pussy through the thin silk, rubbing slow, needy circles. Her other hand yanked at the neckline of her night dress, stretching the delicate fabric as she freed one breast and pinched her nipple harder, twisting it between her fingers with a low, needy whimper.

The visions turned filthier, more vivid.

Marvin pinning her down on silk sheets, his perfect mouth claiming hers in a bruising kiss while his hands tore at her clothes. His lips trailing fire down her throat, sucking hard on her breasts until she cried out. His fingers sliding between her thighs, stroking her slick, swollen pussy with expert, relentless precision while he whispered filthy Shakespearean praises against her ear.

She imagined Marvin pushing her down onto the sofa, spreading her legs wide, his perfect mouth descending to lick long, slow stripes up her dripping folds while his glowing eyes watched her fall apart. She saw herself riding him, sinking down onto his thick cock inch by inch, her head thrown back in ecstasy as he filled her completely, his hands guiding her hips in a relentless rhythm. She heard his voice — that velvety baritone — growling Shakespearean filth against her ear: ”Thou art mine to ruin, my Princess... let me drown thee in pleasure until thou canst only scream my name.”

Diana’s breathing had turned into heavy, ragged pants. ”Marvin... oh God, yes...” she moaned softly, her fingers now slipping beneath the soaked fabric of her night dress to stroke her slick, swollen clit directly. Two fingers dipped inside her wet heat, pumping slowly at first, then faster as the song’s hypnotic vocals wrapped tighter around her soul. Her back arched, hips bucking shamelessly into her own hand while the other continued to knead and tug at her breasts, nearly ripping the delicate night dress in her growing frenzy.

She saw herself on her knees, taking his cock deep into her mouth, moaning around him as he tangled his fingers in her hair and fucked her throat. She felt him thrusting into her from behind, hard and deep, pounding her dripping cunt with savage rhythm while his hand wrapped around her throat, growling that she belonged to him — body, soul, and crown.

”Ah—! Oh God...!”

Diana cried out, her royal composure shattering completely. Her back arched violently off the sofa as her hands flew to her body with desperate hunger.

She grabbed her full breasts through the thin silk night dress, squeezing and kneading them roughly, thumbs circling her hardened nipples until they ached. The delicate fabric stretched dangerously under her frantic grip. With a low, needy moan, she yanked at the neckline, nearly ripping the night dress open as she pinched and twisted her sensitive nipples, sending jolts of electric pleasure straight to her core.

Her other hand slid down her stomach, shoving between her thighs without hesitation. She pressed two fingers hard against her pussy through the soaked silk, rubbing her swollen clit in desperate, frantic circles. Her hips bucked involuntarily into her own hand as another flood of lewd images assaulted her — Marvin spreading her legs wide, burying his face between her thighs, licking and sucking her dripping folds while his glowing eyes watched her come undone. She imagined his cock stretching her tight, aching pussy, slamming into her again and again until she screamed his name, her juices coating his shaft as he filled her completely.

Heavy, ragged breaths tore from her throat. ”Marvin... fuck—!” she gasped, her voice hoarse and broken with lust. Her fingers moved faster, slipping beneath the drenched fabric of her night dress to stroke her slick, swollen folds directly. She plunged two fingers inside herself, pumping them in and out in time with the lingering echo of his hypnotic voice still vibrating through her body. Her thighs trembled, her back arched higher, and a slick, obscene sound filled the quiet room as she fucked herself shamelessly on the sofa.

The four minutes felt like an eternity of exquisite, building torment — every second deepening the lust the magic had so skillfully amplified from within her own starved heart.

When the track finally faded and the next song began to play, the intense lust did not vanish immediately. The heavy, throbbing arousal lingered like a drug in her veins. Diana remained slumped on the sofa, chest heaving with deep, desperate breaths, her night dress twisted and half-torn at the neckline, one breast fully exposed and flushed dark pink. Her fingers were still buried between her slick thighs, lazily stroking her dripping pussy as aftershocks of pleasure continued to ripple through her body.

Sweat glistened on her skin. Her cheeks burned with feverish heat. Her mind was still flooded with filthy, vivid images of Marvin claiming her in every way imaginable — slow and teasing, hard and brutal, tender and possessive.

Her chest heaved with heavy, panting breaths. Sweat glistened on her flushed skin. Her elegant silk night dress was twisted and half-ripped at the neckline, one breast nearly spilling out, the hem bunched up around her hips. Her fingers were still buried between her slick thighs, glistening with her own arousal.

She lay there for a long moment, trembling, staring at the ceiling with glassy, lust-drunk eyes while aftershocks of pleasure continued to ripple through her soaked pussy.

Slowly, she withdrew her fingers, bringing them to her lips and tasting herself with a soft, broken moan. Her cheeks burned with feverish heat. The phantom sensation of Marvin’s cock still throbbed deep inside her, even though he was thousands of miles away.

She whispered breathlessly into the quiet room, voice hoarse and trembling with awe and raw, unsatisfied hunger:”That... that little rascal...”

Diana let out a shaky, lust-drunk laugh, her fingers giving one final, slow pump inside her aching cunt before she reluctantly withdrew them, glistening with her arousal. ”How could he...? How could Marvin possibly sing something so impossibly heavy...so filthy... so completely drenched in raw, unfiltered lust... at only eleven years old?”

She touched her burning cheek with trembling fingers, the other hand still resting possessively over her soaked, throbbing pussy, reluctant to let the feeling fade completely.

She touched her burning cheek with shaking fingers, her other hand still resting possessively over her dripping, aching pussy.

Yet deep down, a dark, hungry part of her already knew the truth — she wanted more. She needed to hear it again. She needed him.

And then, a second, entirely different kind of panic struck her like a bucket of ice water.

”Oh, God. Oh, no!”

Diana shot up from the sofa, her heart leaping into her throat. She suddenly remembered her own enthusiastic, maternal philanthropy. When she had learned of Marvin’s surprise album release earlier that week, she hadn’t just waited for her gift package. She had immediately ordered one hundred copies of the album through her staff to support him, distributing them to her charities, her friends, and—most horrifyingly—her own family.

She had sent the album to her two young sons.

If this song was a concentrated, magical broadcast of pure, unadulterated sexual desire, what on earth was it doing to a fifteen-year-old William and a twelve-year-old Harry?!

Trembling with the absolute, visceral terror that only a mother can feel, Diana practically sprinted across the room, snatched the receiver off her private, secure telephone, and aggressively dialed the direct line to Eton College.

The phone rang twice before it was picked up.

”Hello?” the polite, unmistakably British voice of her eldest son answered.

”William! Darling, it’s Mom,” Diana blurted out, trying desperately to keep her voice steady, though she was pacing frantically back and forth across the Persian rug.

”Mom? It’s brilliant to hear from you,” Prince William replied, though she could hear a faint trace of teenage concern in his tone. ”Is everything alright? You sound a bit out of breath.”

”Everything is perfectly fine, darling,” Diana lied smoothly, taking a deep, shuddering breath to compose herself. She forced a light, casual tone into her voice. ”I was just calling to check in. Tell me, William... did you happen to receive the package I sent for you and Harry earlier this day? The records?”

”Oh, yes! We received them, Mom. Thank you.”

Diana squeezed her eyes shut, bracing for the worst. ”Well... did you listen to it?”

”I’ve been listening to it all afternoon,” William said brightly.

*****

Currently, Marvin is writing a very small-budget fully self funded movie called *Let the Right One In*, and after one more movie it will connect with *Underworld* and a few more movies, it is going to released in 1999. I need an actress who could play Selena, but she needs to know how to act as well as look good in a corset and leather. The best options I have in mind are Angelina Jolie, or I could just let Kate Beckinsale play it or someone else. The movie will be in late 1800s. And who should be Marvin’s partner in this movie: Jessica Alba, Scarlett Johansson, or someone new?

If you have any new ideas, please share them here. Kindly note that I can’t respond to you as they keep getting deleted, so join the Discord server.

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