DISCLAIMER: The following is fiction. The characters in this story have been made up. The content of the story is not representative of the writer’s beliefs, opinions or attitudes. This is story is intended for adult entertainment only. All Rights Reserved © 2017 LITTLESALLY666.

STORY CODES: LGBT themes, Incest, Coercion, Corruption, Lolita, NC, Rape, Sadism,  Snuff, MC, Blasphemy, WS, Demons, Evil themes

SPECIAL THANKS: Just a word of special thanks for Will Bob, for his suggestion of the era as one to explore in terms of its endless dark possibilities . . .

CREATED: 08.06.2013

 

LES FLEURS DU MAL (FLOWERS OF EVIL)

Inspired by Les Fleurs du mal (Flowers of Evil) a volume of French poetry by Charles Baudelaire. First published in 1857 it was important in the symbolist and modernist movements. The subject matter of these poems deals with themes relating to eroticism and Satanism.

 

FLOWERS OF EVIL – SYNOPSIS

It is the year of our Lord 1857. London is squalid place – an open sewer of human waste, misery, ignorance, and vice. Great wealth and extreme poverty live side by side because the tenements, slums, rookeries are only a stones throw from the large elegant houses of the privileged. It was also a time of hypocritical moral standards, of attitudes of prudery and a strict outwardly moral code; yet the procurement of a child, as young as ten years old are sort after as prostitutes. Laws to protect children from abuse – either sexual or physical – whether through intent or neglect are non-existent. Even the most minimal degree of protection against sexual predators was only to come into place some four year later in 1861 – and this only dealt only with girls. The idea that a boy could be abused seems to be more than British lawmakers were capable of comprehending. Our protagonist, the son of Lord Waddington, Howard, finds education in city of London is not so much about the libraries within the learned institution of his pampered and exclusive University College; but instead about the extremes between Victorian prosperity, its evangelical preachers, its cultural taboos . . . and the grandeur of court lifestyle against the poverty, prostitution, lawlessness, and naked and abandoned children that filled the streets at night. Guided by his sadist Uncle, Ebenezer, who by his own admission was a fornicator who knows no bounds, he draws the impressionable and naïve, Howard, into the secret world of the ‘Les Fleurs du Mal’, a private institution that celebrates the pleasures of pre-pubescent sex with both young girls and boys under the guise of religious charity, a thinly veiled front for their true love of perverted occult practices and the worship of Satan. Ebenezer, sees it as his undertaking that Howard must experience and embrace every aspect of his own wickedness . . . grooming him as his young protégée.

 

FLOWERS OF EVIL – CHAPTER 1 (3,077 WORDS)

I hate every tomb I abominate wills,
And rather than tears from the world to implore,
I would ask of the crows with their vampire bills,
To devour every bit of my carcass impure.

It was almost a foregone conclusion that his application to the University College Winter intake, of the year of our Lord 1857, would be accepted despite the stiff competition. Master Howard Jefferson Waddington was a twin and one of the eldest of three children, which included his twin sister, Olivia Victoria Waddington, and their ten year-old sibling, Michelle Elizabeth Waddington. He was also the only male heir to his father, Lord Jefferson Stuart Waddington, whose substantial estate would have made some difference in the selection committee’s decision, albeit via the rather generous donations made to the University’s endowment fund.

That said, for a boy that had only just turned sixteen years, he had accomplished studies of others two years his senior. There was no doubt he was bright, as was his twin sister. Being the boy, he had been pushed that little bit harder. He excelled in reading, writing and mathematics, whereas his twin was more artistic and musical. He was a keen student and displayed a special aptitude for the logic and discipline of the sciences and engineering. His mother, Lady Grace Whitney Waddington, was very proud of him and showered him with every positive encouragement possible.

It was a dark and gloomy September afternoon. The long summer days of the Surrey countryside, the place of Howard’s birth and ancestral home, had given way to the shorter, darker and damper days of autumn. The London smog seemed to magnify the dullness. Howard’s four-wheel carriage made it’s way along the narrow cobblestone streets of Bloomsbury until it reached the tree-lined open space of Gordon Square. The University College occupied a large gated-compound located between Gower Street to the West, Gower Place to the North and accessible from William Street from the East. The carriage stopped outside the South Cloister entrance.

“Ere we ah Sir. University College,” said the coachman as he opened the carriage door, “I’ll be bringin’ yer luggage for yer.”

“Thank you my good man.” Replied the eloquent young man dressed in his tailored tweed suit and carrying his heavy overcoat.

“Well, ‘ope you ‘ave a good evening Sir.”

Howard tipped the coachman most generously after he left Howard’s monogrammed luggage in the lofty arrival hall of the South Cloister. The warm light from the interior glowed with gas lamps reflected against the polished walls of paneled wood that smelt of walnut and mahogany.

“Howard. Howard Waddington. My dear boy, it’s so good to meet you at last,” announced the gentlemen in a brightly colored waistcoat that Howard figured could only be his infamous and flamboyant Uncle Ebenezer Waddington. Howard had never had the pleasure of Ebenezer’s acquaintance, though had been warned by his Mother about his Uncle. The staunchly religious and pious, Lady Grace, said that he would do well not to spend too much time with his ‘gawdy’ Uncle and was to politely but firmly turn down any invitations to become too familiar with him. This intrigued Howard and the curiosity coursed through his veins.

“Uncle Ebenezer?”

“Yes Howard it is I, Uncle Ebenezer at your service,” he announced with a sweeping Shakespearean bow. “Dear boy, you look frightfully pale after such a long carriage journey from the ‘wilds’ of Surrey. Thank goodness, you have finally come to your senses and left the bosom of your dear but awfully blessed Mother!”

“I am tired from the traveling. My family wishes you well. Though I must say that my visitation to the University College London is neither escape nor sentence . . . it is my furthering of education that demands my attendance at this fine institution.”

“And education you will receive . . . I assure you. I will instruct the valet to send your luggage to your private chamber. Now, enough banter. You are indeed in need of a brew to restore the color to your cheeks. An ale or brandy . . . what should be your poison young man?”

“Uncle Ebenezer, I am warmed by your most gracious reception, may I trouble you for a simple nip of brandy, before I must adjourn, so that I may be well-rested before the scholar demands upon the morrow.”

“Oh you are so libelous! Howie. May I call you Howie? Well. A nip it shall be. And upon the conclusion of the morrow’s toils, you shall be my guest at the gentleman’s club. And I shall not accept a nay to your Uncle Ebenezer’s orders!”

Howard liked this strange relative. Ebenezer wrapped his arm around his shoulders and guided him into the recreational lounge, where large comfortable leather armchairs, smell of cigars and whisky, the warm fireplace and the hearty laughter of other scholars awaited.

“Attention everyone!” Announced the jubilant Ebenezer. The crowd of a dozen young men, turned to face the pair of them. “This, everyone is my nephew. Master Howard Jefferson Waddington, who has just arrived from deepest, darkest Surrey to take up his appointment at the University College London, to pursue his education, Please, make him welcome in the traditional way!”

The loud and impromptu introduction was followed by manly handshakes and gestures of welcome, including a large brandy glass with more than a generous dash of the hall’s finest brandy. Needless to say, it would not be an early adjournment for the young Master Howard, and the hangover the next day would certainly dull his abilities to deal with his scholar pursuits.

xxxxx

Howard had not seen his Uncle for over a week. During this brief interlude, which had been a pleasant change from the quiet country living of his parent’s estate, had been filled with intellectual conversations with other learned colleagues of the School of Engineering. Dispute his rather poor first day that had been overshadowed by a rather strong desire to bring up the contents of his stomach’s desire to demonstrate the Newtonian principle of action and reaction, to purging effect; he had begun to create a good first impression with his peers and lecturers. Dr Albert Watson, his principal lecturer in Engineering had taken to him under his wing and had introduced him to important members of his alumni and visiting tutors that specialized in all manner of interesting studies, from theoretical mechanics to Gothic architecture. Howard could not get enough of it.

It was the morning of the beginning of his second week, that he received a crisp embossed letter with the mark of entwined roses wrapped around an inverted cross with initials ‘LFDM’. It was from his Uncle Ebenezer, apologizing for his unexplained disappearance. That he would be back that evening and had arranged for the two of them to have dinner and drinks at his private club. Howard looked forward to meeting up with his strange Uncle, despite the thought of his mother’s words ‘keeping ones distance’. But as the afternoon drew to a close, an older coachman, called Fetch, arrived at the University College to collect young Howard to bring his to his Uncle. The coachman was very cagey about the exact location of this private club, making the excuse that unless the young master was very familiar with the streets of London that the location would be meaningless. Howard was happy to be collected and made no further protest. He had in his head a plan, to escape another night of excessive drinking by claiming he had an examination to undertake the next day – not so much a lie, but an exaggeration of the truth.

As Fetch pulled into a private courtyard, Howard looked out of the coach window and noticed upon the gates a similar coat-of-arms using the entwined roses, inverted cross and the lettering ‘LFDM’ as did the coach itself. The heavy spiked gate closed behind the carriage. A butler standing at the doorway ushered Master Howard inside the lobby.

“Evening Sir, Welcome to the ‘Les Fleurs du Mal’,” expressed the butler poetically, bowing his head.

The butler took his hat, coat and jacket and offered him a tall aperitif as he stood in the hallway. Howard looked around the opulent room with its dark rich wooden walls, crests, coats-of-arms, trophies and ceremonial wall hangings that he did not recognize. ‘Les Fleurs du Mal’ . . . ‘LFDM’ he thought . . . meaning ‘the flowers of evil’ . . . a rather quaint name noted Howard.

“Sir . . . your uncle is in the steam room. He requests that you join him there. There is a change room to your left, with fresh towels. Please follow me.”

The aperitif had a rather strongly herbal aftertaste and on an empty stomach it gave him a sudden intoxicating feeling. Howard’s head was buzzing. He followed the butler into the changing room. Howard noticed how the towels and dressing gowns were all monogrammed with the same entwined roses and inverted cross motif. Behind the screen, he removed his clothing and donned a towel around his waist and then stepped into the steamy chamber.

“Howie, at last. My apologies for my absence, so unexpected LFDM business . . . we purchased an Abbey of all things! Frightfully expensive, but it will serve our charitable activities . . . I am so glad that you were able accept my invitation to dinner. How is your aperitif?”

“Uncle Ebenezer,” . . . he began to answer but felt flushed . . . was it the heat of the sauna from the outside and heat from intoxication on the inside? “No need for any apologies dear Uncle. My time has been well spent studying . . . your aperitif is rather strong,” expressed Howard unusually economic with his words.

“Well I am happy to hear that you are adjusting to busy life in London; and that your studies are going well. Dr. Watson informs me that you’re as bright a student as your father was. Not that he sets the standard. Dr. Watson feels especially pleased to welcome another generation of the Waddington’s to University College.”

“So, He knew my father?”

“Yes he certainly did. My brother would be very proud of you and the early impressions you have already made at the school. Now, you must be famished, after such a dull day of intellectual pursuits . . .”

Howard sat with his towel around his waist, noticing that his Uncle and a number of other young gentlemen sat completely naked and all in various states of ‘personal arousal’. He politely refrained from observing too closely, as he thought it the most gentlemanly thing to do under the circumstances. Maybe it was the steam, but he felt even stranger as time passed. It was like the excitement of a fairground ride . . . turning his stomach . . . only the result seemed to be that his own penis was now rock hard beneath his towel.

A waiter appeared and gave each of the gentlemen more aperitifs. There was light laughter in the steam filled room. Howard looked hesitantly at his glass . . . but after watching the others downing their drinks, followed their example, despite the total queerness. Again he couldn’t help but notice that also everyone was fully erect. Was it the strange drink that was stroking his libido?

“It’s time to enjoy copious food, wine and stimulation . . . wouldn’t agree dear boy?” Ebenezer said, slapping his back. How could Howard disagree

The butler used a little chime, obviously intended to say that it time for something. Howard was feeling rather peckish as his stomach did soft somersaults. He was offered a soft towelling robe that just covered him to mid thigh – more importantly it covered his unrelenting erection. It felt warm and snug. The butler was helping others with their garments, however some like his Uncle remained naked and unashamedly erect. Howard’s Uncle indicated they take a seat on the large cushions of the rather exotic boudoir filled with thick rugs, low tables and legless recliners. More drinks were served. The other club members were also making themselves comfortable, relaxing, some smoking, others chatting in pair or groups . . . all seemed so civilized and sedate under the rather warm orange glow of the subdued lighting.

“Tonight, I may need to curb my desires for too much good wine Uncle,” volunteered Howard rather weakly.

“Desires my dear boy . . . an important lesson in life, is that desires are there to be fulfilled . . . someone once said to me that the usefulness of a cup was it’s emptiness? Well, I don’t think that of desire . . . I believe we should be filled to the brim, until we overflows with so-called usefulness . . . to indulge in ones desires is the ultimate pursuit of every English gentleman, don’t you agree?”

Howard was thinking about his answer, when a waiter arrives with a banquet for two laid out exquisitely upon a number of silver platters . . . enough food for more than a dozen people.

“Dr. Watson was informed of our appointment. He will not be expecting you to attend any of the formal classes tomorrow or the day after . . . so relax, drink, eat and enjoy the entertainment that we have organized.”

“Entertainment Uncle?”

Some of the other members looked across, seeing young Howard with his Uncle. Ebenezer nodded in response and they all returned a nod in recognition of their newest member.

“Oh, of course. This is your first visit to the club. This is your club now, Howie. At ‘Les Fleurs du Mal’ we embrace many forms of entertainment . . . most of a more libertine nature.”

Howard could not think of anything to say, as he felt so ravenous. To eat, drink and be merry. For the moment, his mind was filled with the thought of nothing else other than the satisfaction of his desire to gorge himself. The strange butterfly feeling, that filled his stomach, now seemed to work itself lower in his abdomen with a powerful heat in his perineum.

“A hearty appetite by boy! Howie . . . indulge yourself. At last, you have started to stop resisting . . . good . . . that’s what I like to see!”

Uncle Ebenezer slapped his back, picked up a chicken leg and bit a chunk out of the flesh as it were some kind of medieval feast. A strange middle-eastern music filled the room and was immediately followed by a round of spontaneous applause. A group of about two dozen women dressed as belly dancers entered and made their way to the low stage to the center of the semi-circular boudoir.

“Oh, how wonderful!” Exclaimed Ebenezer speaking with his mouth full and trying to drink a large goblet of wine all at the same time. “How I do love exotic dance as an entree!”

“Exotic dance? Entree?” Said Howard, the words seemed to bounce around is head in a very uncontrollable way . . . and the erotic beat seemed to appeal . . . making his cock twitch with the sudden spike in his libido.

“It’s always a great way to begin the evening of complete debauchery, don’t you agree?”

“Debauchery?” Howard was smiling and laughing with the others in the room, despite all his efforts not to make a spectacle of himself again. His Uncle’s laughter echoed and mixed into the strange dance music that filled Howard’s head.

The exotic belly dancing girls began twirling and turning in their sensual routine to the throbbing beat of the music . . . as they gyrated and thrust their hips, young Howard could not help by notice how translucent their clothing was. As they danced close to his face, he realized that he could see the outline of their pert young breasts and pointed hard nipples . . . as he allowed his eyes to travel further south, he could make out the dark ‘V’ of public hair between their milky thighs.

“Look at their cunts Howard . . .” Howard thought his Uncle said, “don’t they make you horny . . .” He wasn’t sure but thought that his Uncle was masturbating . . . it all seemed a very surreal.

As the tempo of the music increased, so did their moments, becoming increasing more sexual as they allowed the delicate material that covered their upper torsos, to fall from the their shoulders bearing their generous but firm breasts. The beat of the music seemed to reach a crescendo as their dance changed from teasingly playful to openly carnal and vulgar as they began to touch themselves between their legs, bending forward and parted their buttocks and thrusting back and forth, as if they were all fucking invisible lovers.

The strangeness in Howard’s abdomen had quickened . . . as he became aware that his hand was wrapped around his raging hard-on as he watched lustily. His demeanor had not gone unnoticed by his grinning Uncle.

“Pick one Howie.”

“What?’ Replied Howard, embarrassed at his own animistic desires.

“Pick one. And she shall join you now . . . suck upon her juicy cunt . . . give you a blowjob . . . fuck her . . . if you want?”

“Errr . . . Uncle . . . I . . . couldn’t . . .”

“Still resisting hey? You have to let go Howie . . . release the Devil inside!”

Again his Uncle heartily laughter echoed in his mind . . . it was also as if it was the answer he expected from his nephew; and turned back to continue his own enjoyment of the illicit entertainment. Now the young girls where completely naked, some were now kissing each other, sucking each other’s naked breasts, even frotting vagina against vagina . . . some were performing a masturbation dance with large phallic objects thrust between their legs. Other girls seemed to be masturbating themselves upon the faces of eager patrons including his uncle. Howard just watched in awe. He had never seen something so lecherous in all his days. He rubbed his cock unabated, enjoying the bizarreness, until he suddenly and powerfully ejaculated over himself, his liquid cum sprayed across his chest. He felt sate and laid back as hi mind gave way to the drunken bliss.

 

FLOWERS OF EVIL – CHAPTER 2 (3,237 WORDS)

Ah, why did I not bear a serpent’s nest entire,
Instead of bringing forth this hideous Child of Doom!
Oh cursed be that transient night of vain desire
When I conceived my expiation in my womb!

Ebenezer Waddington stood in the archway at the Southern Entrance to the University College. The single horse carriage deposited a small figure, a girl, no longer than ten years of age. The sleazy old coachman, Fetch, escorted her to Ebenezer’s side.

“Fetch,” said Ebenezer.

“And ‘ere she is Mister Waddington sir. Emily McArthur, be her name. Spritely lass. Nice und young, like yer ordered,” said Fetch picking his nose. Ebenezer gave Fetch his payment in heavy coinage and he left without another word.

“Emily McArthur?”

“Yes sir. Mister Waddington. I be Emily McArthur.”

“Excellent cock-sucker? Anal sex? Blasphemous little pervert?”

“Yes sir. And much more, if it pleases you, sir . . .”

“Yes it pleases me . . . I have a job for you Emily. I will pay handsomely for your services. But my instructions must be followed to the letter; without deviation . . . do we have an accord?”

“Fetch told me want yer want. Pervert sex sir . . . my specialty.”

“Excellent.”

xxxxx

It was almost a month to the day since Howard had first arrived in London. He had not quiet reconciled exactly what happened that bizarre night at the ‘Les Fleurs du Mal’, only that he regretted not heeded his mother’s warnings closer. He would do best to pray for forgiveness and concentrate on his studies from now on.

He was already dressed in is Sunday best for the early morning service, at the Church of ‘Christ the King’ situated close by Gordon Square, when there was knock on the door to his private rooms. He was not expecting anyone? He opened to the door to find a young girl, no older than ten years old on his threshold.

“Master Waddington?” Asked the demur young girl dressed in a black maids outfit.

“Err . . . yes. I am Waddington? Can I help you?”

“Master. Me name is Emily McArthur,” curtsied Emily, “I am yer new chambermaid. I ‘ave been sent to take care of yer washing, cleaning and anything else youse should need doin’ sir.”

“I . . . don’t remember anything about a new chambermaid? You don’t know my Uncle, Ebenezer Waddington, by any chance? Have you heard of ‘Les Fleurs du Mal’ . . .” He asked suspiciously.

“Uncle sir? Let Flows Do Mole? No Sir. Please don’t send me away sir? School is very generous with its employment. I would be no trouble. I am an ‘ard worker sir. Please give me a chance,” begged the little girl, almost on the borderline of weeping.

Howard really was not sure. He thought of his Uncle again. Depravity. His cock moved in his pants. He hesitated and then opened the door wider.

“Look don’t cry, come in. I am on my way to confession. Maybe you can help by cleaning up until I get back. After church, I will be at the library until late. I don’t want to get you into any trouble . . . we will sort this all out later.”

“Oh! Fank you sir. Youse won’t regret it; quiet as a mouse, sir; ‘ard worker sir . . . you won’t regret it sir.”

With his books under his arm, Howard smiled unsure of his decision. He closed the door behind him as he made his way to mass.

xxxxx

Upon his rather late return, Howard could see his chamber was in excellent repair. Maybe she was gone for the evening? No . . . the gas lamps where still on. His place was much larger than his material needs, being the son of a Lord – but he appreciated the extra space. On the study table there lay a package that remained unopened. His books had been neatly staked in the bookshelf, his cloths hung in his closet, his desk tidy and his bed made.

“Emily?”

“Yes sir?” Answered a tiny cockney voice from the direction of the water closet.

“What’s this package . . . Emily?” Asked Howard.

“Don’t know sir, arrived after youse left sir.”

He was contemplating further study with some of the new references he had acquired from the university library and then decided to investigate the intriguing package instead. It was large, flat and quite heavy. Opening it, he found it was from his Uncle Ebenezer and it contained a huge old manuscript decorated with the familiar entwined roses and inverted cross motif and the worn title stamped in smaller gold-leaf-text that said ‘Manuel Libertine de la Perversion Sexuelle’. Another embossed card accompanied the package with Ebenezer’s handwriting . . . it simply said ‘some essential reading.’ He was about to open it when Emily appeared.

“Evenin’ sir,” curtsied the delightful and very alluring Emily. “I ‘ave run youse a bath sir. Nice and ‘ot, give it a quarter hour and it’ll be prefect for yer.”

“Oh . . . I . . . oh . . . thank you . . . Emily,” stuttered Howard. He liked this young cute thing. In the illumination of the gaslight she was very pretty. Delicate . . . she appeared so fragile . . . small . . . vulnerable. Howard felt his cock move again. Her tiny frame and waifish figure seemed to be inspiring thoughts that conflicted with his church-minded upbringing.

Emily was right. The water was perfect. She’d brought in a number of candelabras that made his bathroom rather moody – almost church-like. He slipped out of his fancy cloths hung them on the back of the chair and carefully climbed into the ornate bath, slowly immersing himself in the warm soothing water. He loved the tingling of the aromatic oils against his naked skin. He caught Emily’s reflection in the large dressing mirror . . . she had obviously watched him change and stand naked before getting into the water . . . he somehow did not feel this a negative thing . . . he was sure she had seen many others strip before bathing in her role as a chambermaid . . . in fact, they way she looked at him, made him feel important, like royalty . . . he fantasized as his cock twitched.

“Wash yer sir?” Her soft commoners voice startled Howard, who was still daydreaming. He felt immediately self-conscious of his nakedness again and how the hot bath had made him even harder between the legs, despite being hidden below the waterline. Emily did not wait for an invitation and he soon felt her tiny hands upon his shoulders lathering the herbal soap and massaging him in a most agreeable manner. He did not stop her either. He wanted too resist, but her tiny fingers were strong . . . it felt too good to stop now.

“Oh, thank you. Please, but you will get your outfit wet.”

“Can sort that easy sir,” she replied almost whispering, as she buttoned her tunic and slipped out of her outfit. Howard pretended not to look at the beautiful naked urchin as water splashed down the front of her flat chest and hairless vagina as she continued to wash him. He eyed her in the mirror, admiring her thin and boney body. A skeleton with skin attached, he thought. Naked . . . maybe this is how all the chambermaids washed their masters? Somehow he did not completely believe it . . . but allowed himself to continue to accept it . . . her expert hands continued to wash his hair and face . . . from behind she reached around and down his chest until her small hands closed around his erect penis.

“Oh Lord,” gasped as she began to masturbate him. He thought about his wayward Uncle and about his words of resistance . . . about releasing the Devil inside!

“Is Emily washin’ yer good sir?” Whispered the naked chambermaid, her tongue penetrating his ear.

“Oh God, oh yes . . . I need a lot of washing there . . .” He replied, surprising himself at his response to her firm grip on his organ. No doubt he would need to bathe more often with Emily’s assistance.

“Can wash you even better with my mouth sir,” encouraged Emily.

“Oh what a wonderful idea,” panted Howard.

“Maybe I could continue in the bedchamber sir?” Offered Emily, mischievously.

“Wonderful. You are full of delightful surprises Emily?”

“Just want to please my Master, sir.”

Howard allowed Emily to dry his body . . . her hands never left his penis or balls for very long . . . keeping him in a sustained sense of arousal.

Naked, Howard laid prostate across the clean white bed linen while Emily knelt between his open legs. She gently kissed his thighs as she continued to masturbate him, kissing his balls and even his anus, before licking the length of his cock and over the pre-cum wetness of his cock head. By this time Howard was desperate to feel Emily’s small lips wrapped around his erection. His hips rose as if fucking the air and he moaned lewdly to himself.

“Is Emily pleasing you Master?”

“Oh yes Emily . . . please don’t stop.”

Emily’s mouth engulfed Howard’s penis, allowing it to press against the roof of her mouth, as her tongue moved in circular movements around the flesh of his cock-head, her teeth lightly grazing against the delicate underside of his cock. Her small hands relentlessly switched between masturbating his shaft, manipulating his loose ball sacks. Howard gasped further as her tiny fingers penetrated his anus. Howard’s whole body shock in strong waves of orgasmic delight, as he could no longer hold back from blowing his load into Emily’s willing pre-teen mouth. What sweet release. Howard groaned.

xxxxx

It was still dark when Howard awoke. The recent memory of Emily’s talented lips around his cock; the strength of his incredibly powerful orgasm made him immediately erect again; the taste in his mouth . . . Emily had kissed him after oral sex and he had tasted his own cum . . . they had shared his semen together as their tongues danced back and forth . . . so intimately. He had not found it unpleasant – quite the opposite. Then she had offered her fingers to him . . . the ones that had been inside his anus . . . yes, he had sucked them too and the slight bitterness of his own rectum had made him feel very aroused.

As Howard tried to move, he found he could not. His outstretched arms and spread legs held taught by soft but firm silk bindings. From the candlelight, he could she Emily’s nakedness as she entered the bedchamber.

“Emily . . . why am I bound?” He asked.

“Thot yer liked ‘delightful surprises’ Master?” She whispered in his ear as she straddled his erection. Howard laughed but he was clearly unsure of this situation. “Master ‘as a nice cock . . . not too small . . . not too big . . . perfect for Emily’s special ‘ole . . .” Her small hand guided his cock against her anal opening, rubbing it back and forth, lubricating her sphincter before lowering herself upon him. Howard moaned as he felt the first couple of inches of his meat enter her. She was tight . . . so tight. It felt as if the very wall of her colon seemed to grip his tool and milk it. Her mouth had been wonderful . . . but her anus was something else. Her hands stroked her tiny nipples as she sank further down upon him, until his cock was completely balls-deep in her guts.

“Oh . . . mmmmmm . . . Emily . . . mmmmmm . . . oh!” Moaned Howard, as she slowly began to rock her hips back and forth whilst impaled upon his cock. It did not take long . . . in fact a matter of minutes, before the bliss of their unholy sodomy brought Howard almost screaming into another power full body orgasm.

xxxxx

Master Howard fought hard to concentrate on his studies the next day. His mind kept wandering back to his private chambers and to the ‘delightful surprises’ of his new chambermaid. She had promised his something eventful upon his return. His cock was constantly hard, chafing against the rough fabric of his trousers. He had occasion, during his lessons, to ponder on pervasiveness of his initiation into nocturnal naughtiness and the penance he would pay in confession. No doubt he would not disclose all the sordid details, but Father Matthew’s blessing would make a difference.

It was already dark when he arrived back. October days were getting shorter. All seemed normal as the delectable young Emily greeted him at the door, dressed in her black working attire and as they both amorously kissed, his hands snaked beneath her apron and skirt to find that she was without undergarment. His digits quickly probing her dirty little nether hole. She gasped and smiled.

“Oh, Master ‘oward. You treat me like a cheap street whore.”

“My . . . apologies?” Retreated Howard.

“No Master. I like it. Treat me like a slut. A fucking dirty little slut . . . one who worships your magnificent cock and loves the taste of your semen!”

Howard groaned in appreciation of her dirty talk. He liked this chambermaid very much. His cock pressed hard against inside of his pants urgent for release.

“Come let’s both get naked . . . you want the surprise that I promised?”

“Oh Blessed Mary.”

“Fuck that Blessed whore Mary.”

“Oh, Emily . . . you are so blasphemous. Your tongue speaks like a demon?”

“You like it. I can tell Master ‘oward. Go on . . . you say it while I rub your cock. . . say ‘fuck that blessed whore Mary and her bastard son Jesus’ . . . go on say it!”

“Fuck that blessed whore . . . Mary and her bastard son . . . Jesus,” repeated Howard breathless from his own sacrilege. Emily laughed.

“You’re really quite a little demon yourself, Master,” encouraged Emily.

They both discarded their cloths on the floor, leaving them in a trail as Emily pulled Howard into the bedchamber. They kissed and groped at each other in the doorway. He pulled her skinny little weightless body against his, turning her back to him, so he could rub the shaft of his cock against the furrow of her anus. They moaned unabated until Howard realized that they were not alone . . . his eyes registered in the low candlelight that they were both being watched.

“Who . . .” He stuttered, immediately aware his nakedness.

“This is Simone . . . she is a sexy friend . . . don’t worry . . . Simone is very discrete and an excellent cock-sucker . . . I thought, a minage twa may please my Master . . .”

“A ménage à trios?” Corrected Howard.

“Yer one of them,” her laughter trailed off as she moved next to Simone, who lay naked beneath the bedclothes; they tongue kissed each other as Emily played with her long black hair, her fingers fondling her tiny flat chest. Simone looked every bit as small and as emancipated as Emily did. Howard rubbed his cock while he watch them touch each other in all the most intimate of places.

“Simone says she likes the look of yer nice ‘ard cock. It makes her very excited. Do you like her? Wouldn’t yer like to fuck ‘er special ‘ole Master?”

Howard drooled watching Simone and Emily tongue kissing. Yes, he wanted them both, together. He could see that Simone’s fingers were rubbing Emily’s erect clitoris as they passionately embraced each other.

“Come Master, taste Simone’s mouth while I play with your cock.”

Howard moved tentatively towards them. Emily knelt between Howard’s legs and began suck and masturbating his penis as Howard lent forward and kissed Simone on the lips, just as Emily had done. This was an unexpected delight. Her mouth tasted different to Emily’s. Her fingers curled in his hair and draw his closer. Her kiss was firm and tongue eager to fill his. He moaned into her open mouth, delighting in the danger he felt in this strange liaison. Emily kissed the both of them, until their three mouths intertwined – tongues moving back and forth kissing, licking and sucking indiscriminately.

“Didn’t I promise you a surprise Master?” Said Emily, more like a question than a statement.

“Emily . . . you have exceeded yourself again. This is so much scandalous of pleasures. A night with the two of you will be more than I can imagine.”

“But Master, I have yet to reveal my surprise?” Emily smiled evilly. Enjoying the moment. She drew back the blankets that covered Simone lower abdomen, revealing Simone’s delicate feminine frame, skinny legs . . .and from between her thin bony thighs raised the flesh of a large erect penis.

“Oh, my . . . Simone is . . .” signed Howard.

“Simone is beautiful, she loves to suck cock and get fucked in the bottom . . . buggering ‘er ‘ole Master ‘oward . . . cock-sucking and buggery . . . mmmmmm . . . all night long! Wot yer fink of that?”

Howard froze for a moment. His mind seemed to have stalled.

“Come watch me suck ‘er cock first . . . and then it will be yer turn,” she teased. “Look at ‘er delicious big knob Master . . . mmmmmm . . . some mutual cock-sucking?”

Emily steered the diffident Howard closer to Simone’s erection. She pulled back the foreskin, exposing the head and licked around it, as Simone made sounds of delight. She lifted her head and smiled at Simone as she pushed Howard’s head downwards until he took Simone’s stiff member into his mouth. “That’s it, yer a born cocksucker, Master ‘oward,” said Emily grinned with bemusement.

Howard had gone feral; his mouth bobbed up and down on her appendage as Emily began to suck on Simone’s balls. Their mouths touched and kissed each other as the exchanged positions, suck and licking Simone who arched her back and moaned in appreciation of the oral pleasure.

“Don’t it make yer want to feel in yer too?” She coaxed Howard, groping his erecting. “Let her bugger yer, while yer sodomize me . . . it’ll be like the sex of demons . . . wouldn’t that be a delightful surprise?”

Howard moaned in agreement without removing her twitching cock from his lips. His tongue wrapped around its tip, tasting the salty discharge. He wanted nothing more than her to cum in his mouth, to taste her semen pump over his face. Yes, release the devil inside. Cock sucking was divine! Oh, to bugger this beautiful creature . . . and to have Simone bugger him . . . if only he had the nerve! Yes, the possibilities were almost endless between them. It was going to be a long night ahead.

 

FLOWERS OF EVIL – CHAPTER 3 (2,138 WORDS)

From God or Satan? Angel, Mermaid, Proserpine?
What matter if thou makest blithe, voluptuous sprite
With rhythms, perfumes, visions O mine only queen!
The universe less hideous and the hours less trite.

The arrival of his twin sister, Olivia Victoria Waddington, had been completely unexpected . . . albeit her stay could only be short. It had been six weeks since he had had any direct contact with his family. Surrey was a long way away. Mr. Fetch, the coachman, eyed the twins as if he was starving and they were both something edible. Howard tipped the vile Fetch, and got the valet to take his sister’s bags up to his private chamber.

“I will not hear another word of it,” she expressed. Howard had insisted that she take his bedchamber, as there was always the lounge in his front room. But, she had said that they were kin, they could easily share the large bed. The surprise had been seeing her completely naked in the candlelight as Emily brushed her hair out of it bun. Looking at her reflection in the dressing mirror, she was gorgeous and her corpulent, pendulous breasts and large areolas looked like dark saucers crowned with long protruding nipples. She wore a strange crucifix that appeared upside-down and upon the upper portion of her neck. Howard felt his cock stiffen beneath the fabric of his thin dressing gown.

“Take off that ridiculous dressing gown,” she said as she looked at him in the mirror. “Emily tells me you have a nice cock. I want to see it . . . again.”

He felt conflicted, and somewhat relieved. He had thought about their young games together. As children growing up in the countryside some of which had of course included a lot of sexual oriented exploration. Thinking about it now as a young adult, he thought back to how his parents seemed either extremely naive to their sexual activities or maybe had been secretly encouraging them, giving them ample opportunities to be naked together, sharing baths and beds long after being of infant age . . . an early memory of their incestuous activities had even included other younger children, but his fixation and ardor of his own twin came racing back with a deep lustiness that his young adult life and religious instruction had seemed to fight. The depth of this disharmony seemed equal to his devilish desires to continue where they had left off as children . . . they had taken each other’s virginities . . . experimented with all forms of oral and penetrative sex together . . . he remember her passion of obscenity had matched his own . . . as he had encouraged her to have sex with anything and everything from garden vegetables to even the animals on their property.

xxxxx

The confessional was dark inside. The shutter of the window drew back to reveal the fine wooden latticework behind. He heard the familiar and comforting voice of Father Matthew. He hoped for the benediction to ease his conscience.

“Forgive me father for I have sinned. It has been three weeks since my last confession.”

“What are your sins my son?”

“Father, I have committed gross indecencies,” admitted young Howard. It was clearly not the easiest thing to say, but he felt it was the right thing to do. God would hopefully understand his predicament . . . forgiveness maybe a bitter but necessary pill to be swallowed.

“Gross indecencies . . . your God is a forgiving one, he has unconditional love my son . . . confess your sins . . . so I may absorb you.”

“Father, I have committed woeful sins of the flesh, I have blasphemed against the Lord, I have been wanton of my own sister’s flesh; slept with a boy as I would have slept with a woman; and have committed sodomy, buggery and incest . . .” there he said it . . . the words felt like a heavy weight against his pounding chest.

“These are indeed gross indecencies young man,” answered the priest after a short pause. “Gross indecencies . . . will mean penance my son.”

Howard knew it. But what would it take to save his soul, that he was sure would belong to the devil? He had tried his best to resist. He could feel the Assyrian hordes descending upon him to take his spirit to hell. He thought about the manuscript from his uncle. The one that had been send to him on the night of Emily’s first arrival. That perverted bible of obscenity . . . that illustrated every debauched and piquant fantasy that Howard had ever imagined and many, many more. He had furiously masturbated over and over while looking through all the perverted drawings and reading every blasphemous word, dedicated to the ritual worship of sex demons. It was obviously very old, rare and valuable . . . and the exquisite detail to which the artists had gone to in their depictions of depraved sex acts between human and mythical beasts . . . the succubi and the incubi . . . their exaggerated genitalia . . . sent from hell to seduce, abuse and rape those who failed to submit to their ceaseless sexual appetites . . . it had inspired new perversions between himself, Emily and Simone – the trio hardly slept at night, continuing their games until long after the witching hour.

It also triggered his most recent memory of Olivia. His immoral sister had called it drinking the nectar of demons. He initially had not participated . . . choosing to watch and masturbate as his female twin had indulged in a wanton display of deviant sex with both Emily and Simone. They were all very excited and gave praise to the ‘dark one’ as she urinated over her two young lovers . . . spraying them with her pungent piss, saying it was their ‘Satanic communion’. He had never heard such outrageous blasphemy . . . as she performed sacrilegious rituals; her and Emily taking turns of inserting her crucifix as far as it would go inside their piss-wet cunts and masturbating on it; as the three of them danced, frotted and drenched his bedding during their obscene urine games . . . drinking each other’s piss as they licked, sucked and fucked with great fervor.

Howard can’t remember the moment, when he partook of the yellow nectar himself. The crescendo of this perverted foursome had been his own sodomy . . . taking Simone’s cock up his virgin rectum, the pain of which had been immense to start with . . . they had all encouraged it . . . a blessing of the devil . . . as Simone’s cock finally reached upwards inside his rectum . . . moving slowly at first, but gathering momentum as she had both cum and urinated inside him. They both alternatively performed cunnilingus on his sister and Emily. The two girls had masturbated upon their faces and pissed in their mouths.

All this he recalled in graphic detail to his panting priest.

“A question my Son. After these gross acts with your sister and your chambermaids,” asked the Priest.

“Yes father?” Asked the timid Howard.

“Do you feel you need absolution for Almighty God, or permission to continue your wayward and perverted course?”

“What do you mean father?”

“What I am saying is that there is no need to choose between your obvious enjoyment and delight of these extreme sins of the flesh and your need to feel like a good Christian . . . know that your sins will always be forgiven my son.”

“Are you saying that a good Christian can sin? Can commit gross indecencies without any consequences? But why do I feel the need absolution Father?”

“Because you have not yet accepted the ‘dark one’ into your heart,” answered Father Matthew. Howard could smell the aroma of freshly spilt semen from beyond the latticework. The ‘dark one’ . . . he remembered his twin sister mentioned this . . . why did she wear her crucifix upside down? Fucking her self upon it and chanting ‘the Lord’s prayer backwards’. She mentioned Uncle Ebenezer’s devotion to the pleasures of the ‘dark one’ . . . telling him to stop resisting and release the devil inside . . . something about the ritual at the Abbey that they must both attend? Surely these were not Christian practices? God did not intend for his followers to simply sin and then be granted absolution over and over, without consequence?

“For the gross indecency of blasphemy . . . you must say ten ‘Hail Mary’s’; for sodomy and buggery, another ten; for incest, five ‘Our Father’s’ . . . now go in peace my son . . . I will eagerly await your next confession.”

Was that it? It couldn’t be? Howard left the confessional.

xxxxx

During one of his visits to ‘Les Fleurs du Mal’. . . the evening’s events had taken place in the old catacombs beneath the basement level of their old building. There had been a huge open furnace that burned with angry flames. His Uncle had complimented him on his ‘wonderful progress’, though he was more or less sure that he was not referring to his lack of academic achievements at the University College. He’d also commented upon the night’s activities would be very different to other ‘LFDM’ gatherings . . . he’d called it the ‘The Dance of Demons’. Howard was very excited. He found himself amongst eight of the youngest members of the ‘LFDM’, all were naked, very erect and dancing around the fire with their faces disgusted in devil-like masks complete with horns. His Uncle called them his young Cambions. Howard later found that a Cambion was the offspring created from the copulation between demons and humans.

Each of the young Cambions had knelt before his Uncle, and had taken his cock into their mouth in some kind of act of homage . . . he could see that it was expected that he would do the same. As he knelt before his perverted Uncle, he could see Ebenezer’s eyes glaring downwards through the mask that covered the upper portion of his face . . . he held his Uncle’s cock and guided into his mouth, licking and sucking it with great fervor, ‘suck me son, the devil loves incest’ he had said as Howard closed his mouth around his Uncle’s organ he could taste his uncle’s acrid urine squirt into the back of his throat.

A number of emancipated runaway boys, no older than eight or nine years old, had been brought down with them, and they had been starved and looked either distraught or delirious as they had all been suspended by heavy chains between the floor and the ceiling – dangling naked in between, some crying out for clemency that never came. Instead the naked dancing demons seemed to be high on the burning essences laced with strong aphrodisiacs that filled the catacombs. Howard felt it too . . . a powerful urge to fornicate that he just could not stop even if he wanted to, despite masturbating furiously with the others.

Led by his Uncle, they all began to take turns in molesting the suffering young boys, sexual abusing them one by one and then finally raping them as they chanted obscenities in praise of their new God, SATAN. Howard mounted one of the boys. His cock was on fire as he pressed it against the boy’s resistant rectum. He held the youngster’s hips in readiness to bugger him. His Uncle was violently fucking the boy next to him and looked over in encouragement . . . ‘FUCK HIM FOR SATAN . . . release the devil inside!’ How the boy had screamed as Howard pushed forward without any form of lubrication, albeit his own pre-cum, violating the howling boy as he thrust into him harder and deeper with every stroke . . . releasing the DEVIL, spurt after spurt as he came hard inside the boy’s guts.

From that night on, there had been other such drug-fuelled meetings that had taken a similar basis amongst this select group from within the ranks of the ‘LFDM’, in which the all male Cambions would part-take in ever increasingly violent and perverse rituals together. They seemed to worship his Uncle as if he were the Devil himself. In addition, his Uncle had taken a special delight in the incestuous buggery with his young nephew . . . calling him ‘son’ instead of nephew . . . having his Uncle both cum and urinate deep inside his bowels, had become surprisingly addictive.

 

FLOWERS OF EVIL – CHAPTER 4 (2,788 WORDS)

I saw float toward me, tempting as the angels of hell,
To win my soul in thralldom to their dark caprice
Once more, and lure it down from the high citadel
Where, calm and solitary, it thought to have found peace.

Even when the Cambions were not together, Ebenezer would take his nephew out alone to frequent even stranger whorehouses and places of debauchery, filled with extremely young prostitutes. Their coach driver, Fetch, knew all the most dilapidated and deviant places to take his master and his new protégée . . . navigating the waste-dumps where humanity was cheap, places run by those who had few or no limitations whatsoever.

They had travelled in darkness across London from one squalid hellhole to the next. Everywhere Howard looked, he saw the majestic residences of the rich and powerful, book ending the slummed tenements and rookeries of the poor. The impoverished and destitute moved like naked ghosts through the fog from the River Thames, its vile odor smelt of human waste and the sweat of hopelessness. His Uncle’s carriage pressed on through the furtive night until it came upon an inn called ‘The Serpent Lear’.

“We’re here,” announced Ebenezer as Fetch opened the door of the carriage. “The Serpent Lear Inn. We shall celebrate to your success my SON.” Howard followed his Uncle as they entered the wretched place. The warmth from the open fireplace was welcoming and the sound of men drinking away their sorrows filled the void. It was different to the brothels and pigsties they had frequented, as it had the feeling of front to something else.

“It’s not as it seems,” assured his Uncle.

“I don’t understand Uncle?”

“They say that it is witchcraft. But, I want you to try it for yourself.”

His Uncle whispered something to the toothless innkeeper. He nodded and gestured to the cellar stairs.

“You will, Howard. You will.”

The cellar stairs were steep and narrow, and the warmth of the dank air was almost stiffing. Passed the cellar’s treasures of casks and bottle the innkeeper led them to smoke filled room. The sweet but pungent aroma was quite intoxicating. Howard had heard it about through some of the Cambion . . . medical science claimed cannabis as a cure . . . but this was different, a derivative mixed with cocaine and myristic acid . . . a much stronger hallucinogenic made from a toxic mixture of local herbs and plants; they called it The Witches Brew. All around the darkened chamber lay obviously wealthy looking people in various stages of undress, some older, some younger, all in a state of sleepy euphoria. Howard took the long clay pipe offered Ebenezer, after he inhaled deeply. Howard drew in his first breath and coughed.

“Too much. Relax.” Ebenezer demonstrated. Howard tried again. The results were immediate; his heart doubled . . . it thumped in his chest cavity and his head felt a sudden joyful dizziness. The two of them found a corner and shared the pipe back and forth.

“Take off your clothes Howard, the snake goddess will want to see that you are erect.”

Howard followed his Uncle and stripped down. His Uncle’s cock was hard as nails. Howard’s cock stiffed in anticipation of something sordid. There was always some sordid – each time more so than the last.

“Black magic . . . this is an evil place,” said Ebenezer, smiling sardonically to his nephew, who hung on his every word. “Follow me.”

They both got up and walked naked over the piles of immobile bodies, which lay smoking on low beds and even across the cellar floor. Beyond the darkened chamber there was an open doorway that glowed with a reddish light. Through the doorway, Howard could see that it was furnished with lush Persian carpets and adorned with strange effigies. Upon a low-netted bed, two effeminate boys lay masturbating each other. Howard looked at them both hungrily. Yes, he fancied some cock tonight. They watched them as he and his new father continued to smoke the pipe. Howard felt his vision blurring slightly and his mouth felt dry. Ebenezer rubbed his nephew’s cock as they smoked more and knelt on the floor close to the bed.

There were others now entering and joining them in the chamber, naked, smoking and masturbating as they all sat, knelt and lounged around the low bed. The boys continued their love play oblivious of their gathering audience.

“Look . . . over there,” suggested Ebenezer breaking Howard’s concentration.

Coiled around a large statue of the Baphomet, was a white snake . . . a very large white snake. Howard thought it was probably the largest snake he had ever seen. He hadn’t really seen many snakes. But he figured this one to be pretty large. It uncoiled itself slowly as it eyed the pair of boys copulating on the bed. Howard’s head was more than a little dizzy. Voices echoed back and forth. He steadied himself against the edge of the bed as his Uncle continued to masturbate his son.

“They are its meal,” whispered Ebenezer.

The snake descended from the stone idol and slivered gracefully across the carpeted floor and onto the low bed. The disparate crowd moaned in drug-induced ecstasy awaiting something unusual to happen as the snake’s elongated body took its place on the netted bed.

Howard blinked trying to keep his eyes focused. He was sure he had seen a long white snake, but beneath the netting between the two boys was now a woman, a strangely insipid but beautiful woman, alabaster white, her pale skin appeared almost translucent . . . Howard could swear he could see every vein and muscle beneath her watery layer of skin. Her movements seemed inhuman, animated, undulating. She looked around the room with what appeared to be reptilian eyes . . . as her gaze fell upon Howard he felt a power surge of adrenaline, fear and excitement filled his mind.

The two boys seemed to be busy pleasing the strange snake woman. They sucked her pert breasts and fingered her enlarged clitoris. Was this all a hallucination? It couldn’t be real? Howard was not sure anymore. He let go to the feeling that was building towards an incredible orgasmic release . . . his arms and legs felt weak. He was encouraged to smoke more as his Uncle now began to performed fellatio on him. Howard eagerly thrusting back and forth in his Uncle’s mouth, more interested in the weird scene that was unfolding on the low bed.

The snake woman smiled at the boys with her razor sharp teeth. Her long forked tongue flicked into their open mouths as she kissed them alternatively. Howard could see that her cunt was just like her mouth, filled with similarly pointed teeth-like appendages that seemed to retract and appear, retract and appear again. He had a feeling that he understood what his Uncle had meant when he had mentioned that they were ‘her meal’.

She mounted one of the boys as he lay beneath her. Howard could see his boy cock thrust upwards eagerly into her slimy vagina, while the other boy’s cock thrust in and out of her mouth. His Uncle’s movements match those of the two boys. Howard fucked his Uncle’s mouth . . . there would be blood soon . . . he knew it, and it seemed as if everyone else in the room expected it. They chanted quietly at first ‘Snake Goddess, Snake Goddess, Snake Goddess . . .” over and over, each time slightly louder than the previous as her movements became increasingly vigorous – fucking the boy beneath her, at the same time, orally copulating with the other. They boys moaned passionately in the grips of sudden and powerful orgasm. ‘”SNAKE GODDESS! SNAKE GODDESS!” Howard found himself chanting as the sexual pleasure intensified, like an elongated orgasm that seemed to reach its peak . . . never end . . . all around him, the crowded room was filled with orgasmic pandemonium, as men and boys ejaculated and women and girls squirmed and squirted. Howard felt his sperm rush from his balls into the wet orifice that engulfed his penis.

“Arrraghhhhhh . . .” Howard moaned in unison with everyone else in collective delight as the Snake Goddess’s ‘teeth’ snapped down and penetrated both her boy lovers simultaneously. Blood shot out everywhere beneath the netting as the boys’ screams of ecstasy quickly changed to terror! The standing boy fell backwards onto the low bedding clasping the gaping wound of his severed penis as the Snake Goddess lunged forward to snap at his throat. The bed was covered in their blood as she devoured them. Howard starred in disbelief as his Uncle stood and quickly led him away . . . dream . . . nightmare . . . a bad trip? No, Howard enjoyed ever moment.

xxxxx

Howard had felt a change within himself. As he stood alone in his chamber, staring into the dressing mirror, the eyes that stared back from the reflection looked different . . . as if they were not his own. Had the Devil eaten his heart from within? His squeamishness and fragility seemed to have completely gone. He needed to feel something . . . reflecting on his bizarre experiences. His cock was hard and he found his right hand wrapped around his flesh, mindlessly pumping the foreskin back and forth as his alter ego seemed to take control of his body, bent on continuous self-pleasuring.

A pair of small hands fondled his chest from behind, and the warmth of another body pressed against his lower back. Simone? Howard felt her cock press against the furrow of his anus, rubbing against him, eager to fuck . . . begging him for entry. He turned from his mirror image and kissed Simone’s open mouth. Her tongue felt different, Pointed and very long. He sucked it like a cock as it fucked his mouth. She tasted like blood and cum. Cock against cock, they wriggled and rubbed against each other. Thrusting up against each other’s stomachs. Their hardness became wetness as Howard’s hands drew Simone’s buttocks hard towards him, mashing their hips together to increase the pleasure of their urgent frottage. They groaned into each other’s mouths, spoke blasphemous obscenities, approaching orgasm and spunking over each other for the fourth or was it the fifth time that evening.

Howard awake. He was alone in the darkness of his chamber. He remembered fucking Simone, but was real or another strange dream left over from the delightful horrors of the Snake Goddess? The hallucination had felt so real; a bad trip; the bloody mess of her cannibalistic ecstasy. He had not seen either Emily or Simone for many days. He lazily rubbed himself and moved the ‘Manuel Libertine de la Perversion Sexuelle’ back into the lamplight.

xxxxx

There was no pretense around his Uncle. Ebenezer gloated over the situations that he seemed to orchestrate for young Howard; to him, no pleasure was taboo . . . and it was obvious that he drew great pleasure from shocking his nephew at every twist and turn . . . the inverted sense of right and wrong; mixed with pleasure from pain (and suffering); and the dehumanization of those his Uncle saw as a means-to-an-end, of Howard’s sexual education, seemed to punctuate his callousness towards everyone else around him.

“Satan wants us to fulfill our desires Howard. He loves us both dearly. He is our father. He wants me to share a life most-depraved with his evil family . . . your birth parents, are high society hypocrites, SON . . . I want you to think of me, as your teacher, your lover, your true father . . . can you do that Howard?”

Howard had agreed.

This had pleased his Uncle immensely, and to celebrate his new ‘fatherhood’ he had organized a special gathering of the young Cambions at his private estate. It had been the first time that Howard had been there, though he had wondered from time to time where his Uncle lived, he had not inquired further. The high walls and shuttered windows of the building gave it an outwardly grim appearance, but once in the private courtyard, all seemed very normal for a Victorian household. Nothing could have been further from the truth.

His Uncle’s taste for the unusual filled the basement level of his abode. Every wall was covered with hand-colored lithographs depicting erotica of every kind from simply strange couplings to sadomasochism, from bisexuality to bestiality, from urophagia to transvestitism – it was the perfect setting for his Uncle’s little theme party. It was to be the Grand bal paré et masque – a ball of masked Devils and Angels. In a strange role reversal, the Cambion all dressed in white masquerade masks and tight white leotards with feathered white wings upon their backs, while the collection of destitute children, aged between eight and thirteen, served them aperitifs and finger food, while dressed as little black minions of hell, complete with horns and little spiked tails.

The basement was almost double volume in its ceiling height and the gothic décor suggested grand ballroom meets ritualistic temple. Bizarre life size statues of the both the Mother Mary and Jesus Christ were the centerpiece of this subterranean underworld. Mother Mary had been painted up to appear as a harlot, exposing her breasts and providing a realistic looking vagina and anus holes for male penetration. Then there was the naked Jesus, nailed to the cross, sported an erection suitable for oral, vaginal or anal penetration.

The merriment was punctuated by burning aphrodisiacs that stirred and stoked the dark desires of the young Cambion. Howard downed his third aperitif. The outline of rock hard cocks beneath their white tights was hardly concealed from view. His Uncle’s party was quickly spiraling downward into sexual debauchery, when Ebenezer announced the arrival of a special guest from the exotic orient.

“And now the mysterious and sensual, Madame Oni,” He proudly announced.

The petite Japanese geisha was dressed very formally in a brilliant white bridal kimono with chalk-white make-up, seemed to glide across the floor as she danced with a delicate white lace fan. The unfamiliar Japanese music coupled with her overtly sexual movements had got Howard’s complete attention. He had never seen anything quite like it before, and soon it became obvious that the eroticism was intended to entertain and capture his specific interest.

The other Cambions stared and touched themselves and each other through their outfits as the geisha began to strip for Howard as he sat in awe at the sight of this tiny erotic creature. Her rhythmic movements combined elegance and grace with more than a hint of lewdness as she began to shed her costume. Revealing her small pert breasts, Howard could see that almost every inch of her upper torso was covered with demonic tattoos . . . her slit eyes followed him as she moved around the room until she was standing and gyrating only a couple of feet away from Howard.

“Isn’t she exquisite?” Whispered Ebenezer to his new son.

“Amazing, she is amazing, Uncle.”

“Order her to de-robe,” Instructed Ebenezer, rubbing his new son’s cock through his tights.

“De-robe for me,” ordered Howard. The Geisha smiled and her robe fell to the floor exposing her self in full hermaphroditic splendor.

“Ahhhh . . . the secrets of the orient. We should travel there, you and I Howard. There is much to experience in a place like that. I have heard wonderful things. At the end of this term, we shall do it. Yes. A trip will be just what the doctor ordered. Now. Go on, Howard, touch her . . . feel her hard cock and wet pussy . . . that’s it SON . . . rub her cock and finger her . . . see how she loves it.”

Howard’s hands shook as he fondled the exquisite hermaphrodite. And the geisha purred with Howard’s attention. Yes, a trip with his Uncle to dark places – the secrets of the world were there for him to experience.

All around the basement, the white angels descended upon the little demons – as the Cambions tore off their costumes and those of the panicked children. The debauched orgy had begun.

“Suck her Howard, wrap your lips around it . . . finger her cunt . . . lick it . . . taste her nasty ass . . . that’s my boy! Don’t hold back . . . celebrate MY SON . . . CELEBRATE!”

 

FLOWERS OF EVIL – CHAPTER 5 (2,446 WORDS)

The day they covered us in the dirt
like stars in the ground
that will grow into dead flowers
The day they covered us in the dirt
like stars in the ground
that will grow into dead flowers

Outside the University College, his sister waited. She had traveled up again from Surrey and was eager for her twin to join her. The ‘LFDM’ carriage had fresh horses and was to take them both onward immediately to Medmenham Abbey where their Uncle awaited their arrival.

The Abbey was three and half hours travel westward from the center of London. His Uncle had told him that he had purchased it from the church for uses undisclosed by the ‘LFDM’. Olivia had told him that she hoped that the ‘LFDM’ maybe involved in some form of devil sex worship and expressed her desire to partake. Howard did not need to guess, as he knew for sure. It had all come about, during the few weeks after his sister had left to return to Surrey. His last experiences with his perverted Uncle Ebenezer had left him with no doubt in his mind.

On route to the Abbey, both brother and sister had felt extremely horny. They exchanged debauched stories as well as bodily fluids. Howard had been telling his sister about the young Cambions, the continuous rituals of savage rape and how they had eventually begun to slit their throats of their victims, bathed in their blood and thrown the bodies of the dead child into the furnace after they had had their wicked way. Olivia listened with intense excitement masturbating both herself and her brother, beneath the cover of the travel blanket. Her hands wrapped around his cock as she also recounted to him of her seduction of their younger sibling, Michelle Elizabeth.

Olivia was a good raconteur . . . and told her brother about how the two of them had developed an unhealthy interest in inflicting pain and punishment on orphan children that had been sent to Surrey to escape the squalor of the London streets. It had been some kind of charity thing involving their parents. Some of the details faded in Howard’s mind as she recounted the story pounding his dick in her right hand. The barn had been a wonderful place . . . Howard had remembered it as the first place that the two of them had kissed each other . . . how hesitant they had been at first . . . just kissing and touching . . . nervous of what they had both wanted from each other . . . he remembered it so well and how it had felt like a floodgate that had opened . . . they stripping naked among the course hay bales and the sound of the farm animals, as Olivia had performed fellatio on him and made him cum in her pre-teen mouth.

Olivia had told him that it was shortly after his departure that their mother had encourage the girls to share a room. Knelling together briefly for prayers before their mother disappeared. Both were use to sleeping in their long nightgowns, but Olivia had suggested that they sleep naked next to each other . . . Michelle had thought at first that it was just a game, but as the two of them lay in bed, Michelle became inquisitive . . . she had wanted to know what it was like to have breasts, as her own, were no more than just small cones of flesh. Olivia had asked her if she had wanted to touch them and feel them for herself . . . of course, Olivia did the same to her little sister . . . delighting in her eagerness to feel the softness of the light coating of hair that surrounded her pubic area. Why was her big sister moist? Why did it smell funny? What was the small button-shaped protrusion that stood out from the topmost portion of her vagina? Soon she was showing her baby sisters the delights of sucking nipples, of mutual masturbation, of frottage and then oral sex. It had been a beautiful experience . . . one that for Olivia, had been made special, because it seemed so forbidden an unnatural . . . just like the first time she had fucked her twin brother.

The both of them had taken to spying on their parents, marveling at their father’s erect penis and how he fucked their mother as often as possible. It was unsaid . . . but she felt as it was as though they were encouraged to watch . . . as their so-called pious mother performed pagan-like sexual rituals with her ‘romantic friends’ . . . with other females who seemed to share their father’s lust . . . and indulged in all manner of sexual things in front of a statue of an erect demon that they seemed to lavish and adore. Their mother had an altar on which a young girl would lay and she would bring a white dove . . . while the witches masturbated, she would slit its throat and spray its blood across the young girl as she lay before the demonic idol – others would lick the blood and orgasm as their mother urinated into the girl’s mouth.

By chance, they discovered a secret room that lead to their parent bedchamber and from behind the secret two-way mirror, both sisters learned even further ‘gross indecencies’ from their parent’s antics involving the secret purpose of the ‘orphans’ sent from London . . . whipping naked young girls and boys with barbed branches; pushing poisonous nettles inside their vaginas or wrapping them around their small penises . . . the confused children screaming in anguish . . . the two girls masturbated frantically as they watched it all . . . it had inspired their own thoughts and desires about inflicting pain and suffering.

They had taken one of her very young orphans into the barn late at night and forcing her to perform lewd acts. When she refused, Olivia had got very angry and slapped her face over and over. The girl had broken down and cried for her help, until Olivia had gagged her and tied her between the wooden animal pens in the barn. They were all naked and covered in animal waste at the time. Olivia had told her younger sister to get the birch twigs that her mother kept in brine to make them supple, they had witnessed first hand, their own mother masturbating whilst eagerly administering this punishment and were eager to try it themselves. They each had taken turns in whipping the young girl until she was marked all over with hundreds of thin bloody lacerations. Olivia had found it extremely invigorating having such power over these helpless orphans . . . she quickly became addicted to it.

xxxxx

Somewhere west of Uxbridge, the 4-wheel enclosed brougham-landaulet coach painted with the insignia of the ‘LFDM’ stopped along the forest road. Howard looked out of door windows on both side, into the forest wilderness that continued unbroken in all directions. Fetch stepped down from the topside and knocked on the carriage door.

“Master ‘oward can you step out of the carriage for a moment,” said Fetch sniffling and then wiping his nose on the sleeve of his jacket.

“What seems to be the problem?” Asked young Howard, thinking that they may need to change one of the wheels.

“How well do you know this man?” Whispered his twin sister, making sure that she said it quietly enough to be out of earshot and with her back turned, so that he would not be able to read her lips.

“I don’t know him at all . . . he just does things for Uncle Ebenezer,” answered Howard, now on high alert.

“This is the perfect place for a robbery . . . he could tell them anything and they’d never find us out here.”

“Master ‘oward?” Call Fetch with a hint of impatience in his voice.

“Take this.” Howard felt something cold in his hand. Looking down he saw it was a small single shot pistol. He cocked it and held it inside his jacket pocket before opening the carriage door.

“What’s the problem?”

“You’re the fuckin problem,” Fetch said taking a sudden lunge at young Howard. Howard sidestepped him and the silver blade missed its intended target. Howard pointed the pistol in Fetch’s general direction.

“Wot we got ‘ere . . . woman’s piston? Wot yer gonna do with that Son? Beta put it down before yer ‘urt yerseth,” guffawed Fetch, as he backed around Howard in a wide circle switching the sharp knife to his other hand. “I just want yer valuables . . . ‘and them over and nobody needs to get ‘urt.”

“I don’t think we’re about to do anything of the sort,” replied Howard calmly.

“Listen yer bloody smart-mouthed cockchafer, drop the fuckin’ gun and you and the slut can go . . . you give me anymore trouble and I slit yer throats from ear-to-ear,” Fetch shouted aggressively.

Howard held the gun, pointing it up at Fetch’s face. He was visibly shaking. The coachman stepped closer and swung his knife hand. BANG! The powder from the piston filled the air with the smell of gunpowder and Fetch held his head . . . falling to his knees . . . and then face down in the muddy track.

Olivia hitched her long skirt up, so that the lace frills didn’t drag in the muddy pathway. She stepped down from the carriage and hugged her twin brother. They both looked at the body, still in the dirt. It twitched and then was still. Howard kicked him hard in the ribs. Fetch did not move.

“Is he dead?” Asked Olivia.

Howard turned Fetch over. The piston shot had grazed his head on one side. Blood poured from his non-fatal wound.

“He’s not dead . . . yet.”

“Wow! Wasn’t that exciting! I’m so fucking turned on!” Olivia was touching herself.

“Come on help me.” said Howard

Howard and Olivia both grabbed Fetch’s arms and dragged him over to the edge of the woodland. They stripped him of his cloths and bound him to a large tree. He was beginning to regain his senses. The blood from his head wound trickled down his face and he blinked to try to keep it out of his eyes.

“He’s conscious,” said Olivia.

“You untie me this minute. Or I’ll . . .”

“You’ll what? You’re a dead man,” said Olivia waving his knife. “Either, we leave you naked and bloody for the wolves, or we put you out of your misery right now . . . so what should it be?”

“You fink I believe in all this devil crap!”

Olivia pressed the knife to Fetch’s throat drawing blood from the incision.

“Be careful with what you say . . . I am very clumsy when it comes to handling knives.” She moved the sharp implement down his chest and stomach, until it rested beneath Fetch’s flaccid penis.

“Incestuous Twins of Incestuous Twins . . . Messiahs of Hell . . . it’s all fuckin’ crap to me . . . you’re all a bunch of sick fucks! I’ve had a belly full. I wanted the reward!”

“Did you know that? Mom and dad were twin brother and sister, like us?” Said Olivia to Howard. They looked at each other for the longest time. “Incestuous twins of incestuous twins?” She added.

“What do you mean Messiahs of Hell? Reward?” Asked Howard looking back at the naked coachman.

“You don’t know . . . do yer? HA! There are those who don’t want you around. Pay me a pretty penny to slit yer evil little throats they would!”

Howard put his hand on Olivia’s as she held the knife under his genitals.

“We must get to the abbey. Uncle Ebenezer will know what to do.”

Howard’s hand pulled his sister’s up sharply, so that the razor-sharp blade cut through Fetch’s ball sacks and penis, severing them away from his groin completely. Fetch screamed in absolute agony as his deep red blood squirted everywhere.

Olivia licked the knife and kissed her brother. The taste of blood

“Incestuous twins of incestuous twins,” she said rubbing his crutch.

xxxxx

Finally they arrived two hours later at the old Medmenham Abbey. An order of the Cistercian monks had founded it back in about 1145; which had survived until the dissolution of the monasteries in about 1540. Situated on a picturesque lake, now the old Abbey now belonged the evil Order of the ‘LFDM’.

Father Matthews watched as Howard steered the brougham-landaulet coach into the pebbled driveway.

“My dear boy. What on earth happened to your driver?” Shouted the priest. Genuinely surprised to see him handling the task so well. Howard stepped down and opened the door to help Olivia out.

“He’s is dead, Father.” Howard said it in a matter-of-fact way.

“Dead? How?” Father Matthew’s pressed.

“Tried to kill and rob us in the forest,” added Olivia.

“A rogue. God damn it! And the body?” Asked Father Matthew.

“Wolf meat by now I guess. We left him where he fell,” lied Howard.

“Come inside the pair of you. You must be both exhausted. Your Uncle will be very concerned about this matter. You’ve both had way too much excitement already! And when you are properly rested, you must see what the abbey has to offer.”

“Father, as a man of the cloth, what is your part in this?” Asked Olivia.

“The Order of the ‘Les Fleurs du Mal’ is much more than you think. They are everywhere. They influence everything. The church is no exception. I am one of many that serve to corrupt and coerce, just as the Order sees fit . . . I was instructed to keep an eye on you, as you are the Unholy Twins, and make sure that your pathway to the Devil, be assured.”

Olivia looked at Howard. He knew what she was thinking. As twins they often did share each other’s thoughts. Don’t trust this crooked priest, he could be one of them. They could trust no one but each other. They had to see their Uncle.

To be continued? Want more? Then let me know.

For more stories from the author go to: http://www.asstr.org/files/Authors/xpanther

If you have enjoyed this story or would like to offer praise to the author, who is always hungry for encouragement and affirmation, please email to xpanther2008@gmail.com