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, Pedophilia, Snuff, MC, Demons, Supernatural, Evil themes

CREATED: 27.07.2013

 

WICKED SOULS & TAINTED HEARTS – SYNOPSIS

Evelyn Chambers is fourteen years old. Orphaned at six, she lives with her paternal aunt, Sophia Meredith, now in her forties. Evelyn has a rebellious brother, Larkin, who is fifteen with a massive chip on his shoulder. Life is not easy, as Evelyn is haunted by dark dreams of sadness, misery and death, until one day she meets Adam Collins. Adam has problems of his own; he too has his fair share of misgivings about life, the universe and everything. He finds himself drawn to a girl that he doesn’t even know, that his friends and family say terrible things about. But he cannot run from his sexual attraction.

So, boy meets girl. Is it as simple as that? We could hope, and they fall in love and live happily ever after? Well not quite. You see, I forgot to mention that Evelyn has been having an incestuous relationship with Larkin since she was six years old and her deviant aunt seems to have a powerful hold over the two of them – except she cannot control Evelyn’s misplaced feelings for Adam. Some of the village folk call Sophia a witch, a Jezebel, a crone, an evil enchantress, even a succubus – but the truth be known, she will use her supernatural abilities to get her way.

Just to complicate the matter, Sophia, is not only aware of the relationship between Larkin and Evelyn, but has been actively encouraging it from its beginning – entangling the two of them towards her prophesy of a virgin incestuous conception before Evelyn’s fourteenth birthday, so that she may eat the fetus alive and will bestowed the gift of life eternal by the Devil. She sees Adam as a threat to her destiny that she sees for her niece and nephew. Sophia evokes a dark magic to arrest the unfortunate and untimely feeling that Evelyn and Adam have for each other. Sophia will stop at nothing to get her ruinous way, firstly poisoning Adam’s dreams with nightly attacked to discourage his and turn him away from his unwanted affection for Evelyn . . . but as water always finds it own level, things don’t seem to be working out despite all of Sophia’s efforts. She is unable to predict or anticipate what lies ahead in the miasma, so she decides that killing him maybe the best option.

 

WICKED SOULS & TAINTED HEARTS – CHAPTER 1 (3,445 WORDS)

All around her, she could hear the screams of abject terror. The fire crackled, as if it laughed at their torturous dismay. The heat and the stench of burning flesh filled her lungs as she coughed in the fumes of raising ash, as the world seemed to fall in around her. Fear gripped her so tightly that she suffocated from its toxic hold. This was hell. But suddenly from the corner of her eye, a figure stood against the frame of the burning door. It was him. That boy. He grabbed her by the wrist . . . he knew the way out. He had come to save her.

xxxxx

Adam bolted upright as he awake with a deep gasp for air as if he had been submerged beneath murky waters. It was still dark outside. The silence buzzed around him. He lay back down and closed his eyes trying to go back to the dream, but he simply could not.

She was there again. The pallid girl with he has seen every night for the past month or so. She had been standing with her back to him, standing at an open window, her long flowing hair reaching down over her naked back down past her shoulder blades. Why didn’t she turn around? Maybe it was that beyond the open window, he could see a torrid storm approaching, the wind whirled around her ever increasing and threatened in its ungodly voracity. Her attention seemed focused on the horizon. He too could feel something was coming with an unhallowed fury – maybe a premonition of impending doom. He was not sure what it all meant, if it meant anything at all. Only he knew inside that they were predestined to meet – somewhere, somehow. A stupid notion, there was no such thing as predestined outcomes!

Adam Collins was fifteen years old. He lived his entire life in the small rural community of Leatherhead. It was a village tucked away between the rolling hills and woodlands of Surrey in the south of the English countryside. It was a tranquil place, happy in its rural solitude. Most had actually forgotten where the town had gotten its rather strange and literal name. They said that in its less desirous history, the village had been the site of the counties’ guillotine used to chop off the heads of those accused of heresy . . . the killing of witches and warlocks back then had been an almost full-time occupation and a disproportionate cemetery, by the Old Mill, filled with old unmarked graves was testimony to those dark days.

The name ‘Leatherhead’ relating to the even stranger custom of encasing the severed heads in leather, so that they could be used to kick around in a game that was later to be become very popular across the entire land, known as ‘football’. Besides its rather ghoulish roots, Leatherhead was now a quiet place where everyone knew everybody and little had changed from Adam’s entire childhood. Adam’s Father, Jacob, was the local pastor and his bookish mother, Elisa, was predictably the village librarian and helped out at the local parish of some three hundred or so town folks, scattered around the quaint village and beyond in the sprawling farms and charming white-walled cottages that made up the picturesque landscape – it was a simple and uncomplicated life. Adam’s school was only a short walking distance around the village lake of chattered ducks and squawking geese.

Not all the children of Leatherhead attended the village school run by Mrs. Abraham and Mrs. Johnson. One such child was Evelyn Chambers. She was now approaching her fourteenth birthday in less than a month, and though she would have enjoyed the company of children her own age. She was home-schooled with her older brother, Larkin, by her paternal Aunt, Sophia Meredith. Evelyn had been six when her parents died in a freakish fire. She was still frequently haunted by demonic nightmares of hellish fires; devouring everything and everybody she ever loved.

It was most upsetting. It was this tenebrous dream that made her afraid to close her eyes at night and drove her to the arms of her brother, as they lay naked together. This was the way it was until a month before the end of the harvest. The village was in the throws of celebrating with a harvest festival; a happy and joyful time that all the village folk enjoyed. The villagers all dressed up in the Sunday best, shared their favorite recipes and dishes, danced and sang around the maypole. It was at the village fête that she happened upon Adam.

xxxxx

Adam could not help but stare. His sight seemed transfixed.

“What’s so interesting?” Asked Leslie, Adam’s younger brother. Adam was average in every way, but his brother was much smaller and fragile looking, almost effeminate compared to Adam.

Adam did not answer right away. He could not. And that was because he did not know what to think. The girl stood some distance away with her back to him. Her long dark hair moved in the strong breeze as she looked beyond the traveling fairground.

“It’s the Chambers’ girl. She’s a fucking freak. The Chambers are fucking freaks. Come on let’s go on the big wheel.”

“No Les. You go ahead. I’ll catch up with you,” replied Adam, still standing like a statue, as his unbroken gaze still focused on the back of the waifish girl, his brother had rightfully identified as Evelyn Chambers.

“Whatever!” Said the impatient eleven-year-old brother, Leslie, as he took off down the hill towards the quirky sounds of the village fair.

Adam advanced tenuously, his eyes never leaving her.

“It’s very rude to stare.” Said the girl, not turning around.

“Sorry . . . I didn’t mean to . . . its just . . .”

“You’ve seen me in your dream,” answered the girl, still with her back to him.

“How? I mean . . . How could you know that?” Asked Adam, Flabbergasted. Now standing only a short distance away.

Suddenly, he felt a shove from beyond his peripheral vision. He fell to the ground, more from surprise than from the power of the blow.

“Fuck off Collins. Get the fuck lost!” It was Larkin, Evelyn’s strange older brother, a fifteen-year-old freak with piercings and strange Gothic clothing. Evelyn turned around and saw Adam still on the ground.

“Leave him alone Larkin. He wasn’t doing any harm.”

Adam looked up at her radiant face. He remembered in that instance something about how her parents had died in some sort of mysterious fire and that she no longer attended his school. The Chamber children were talked about by the other local kids as being some kind of freaks – living with their even freakier aunt, the so-called Witch of the Old Mill. Nobody went near the Old Mill. Of course all the stories seemed so over-embellished with devil worship and evil spells, caldrons of bubbling body parts, fiendish sorcery, flying broomsticks and black magic. Who knew what to believe? She had been in his class before that time, and the familiarity in her not unpleasant features had still the same impish qualities he remembered. She smiled with nice white even teeth.

“Don’t mind my brother.” She extended a pallid hand. He took it, shocked at how cold it was. He staggered to his feet.

“He’s OK, just a little protective. You understand.”

“How did you know?”

“About what?”

“I mean, about the dreams?”

“I didn’t . . . I was only kidding around.”

“Oh . . .” Adam was somewhat disappointed . . . obviously too much talk of witchcraft and the supernatural on his mind.

“Come on, Aunt Sophia will be waiting,” groaned Larkin pulling his sister by the arm.

xxxxx

“What is it?” Asked Aunt Sophia, brushing her long black hair in the antique three-sided dressing table mirror. Her silken hair moved as if were made of an ebony liquid, as the hairbrush passed through it. Larkin leered at his Aunt’s naked breasts and hard dark nipples. Despite the age gap, she looked more like his sister every day . . . sometimes, it was difficult, even for him to tell them apart. Black Magick he guessed. He subconsciously licked his lips. His cock moved in his pants as she too looked back in the reflection of her own kin and acknowledged his lust with hungry eyes. She toyed with her heavily ornate necklace and inverted crucifix.

“The boy . . . the fucking preacher’s son.”

“What about him?”

“She talked to him. Said something about a fucking dream?”

Larkin moved behind his Aunt’s shoulders and pressed him self against her naked back. She could feel his urgent erection. He leaned forward and sucked on the nape of her neck. She turned around on the small backless dressing table stall and faced her nephew, stroking the distended shape of his cock through his pants, her long black fingernails tantalizing him as she contemplated his words.

“I will have to do something about that.” She grinned broadly.

Unzipping his fly, her hand reached into his pants and retrieving his erection – drawing it out and taking it tenderly into her black painted lips. She sucked him into her mouth, his long penis penetrating her supple throat. He groaned with instant ecstasy.

“Aahhh! Fuck yer!”

xxxxx

Sleep did not come easy and when it did, Evelyn stirred in uneasy dreams.

Evelyn ran her hand across her bare stomach, distended and stretched with what was growing inside. Standing in the crowd in her swollen state took some feat of concentration, but looking up she was aware of the screaming woman being forced to place her head beneath the upright frame of the guillotine. The crowd seemed fervent for what was about to take place. The feeling of extreme nausea and bloatedness was almost unbearable. A small dog barked. A woman shouted something about ‘fuck the witch’. Evelyn become aware that the gathering of a hundred or so, of men, women and children were all inappropriately naked as they eagerly awaited the execution.

The males were erect and excited and they all, including the young ones seemed to draw an evil sense of sexual pleasure from the woman’s predicament. Her stomach was painfully heavy. The naked witch had now been secured and the shining blade hung above her head. She screamed out and protested her innocence. The crowd only laughed and masturbated. It occurred to Evelyn that ‘what if the executions were nothing more than entertainment . . . designed to appease the audiences of witches?’ The hysterical woman pleaded for ‘the love of God’. Upon the wooden podium the executioner, rubbed his long bulbous penis against her backside to cheers and calls of encouragement from his audience. Evelyn clearly heard the executioner say “For the love of Satan,” as he thrust himself into her and the blade fell.

xxxxx

It was late evening when Adam took his bike along the winding road that lead down to the Old Mill. They said it was haunted, being next to the disused cemetery of unmarked graves. They said that the dead lay in headless purgatory, waiting for the time to rise up and take revenge on the living – to take the heads of the living to replace their lost minds. Hocus Pocus, thought Adam, but it did make him give an involuntary shiver. Maybe he would not have felt so brave after sunset. The long summer nights stayed light until almost eleven o’clock. He was well passed his curfew. But he did not care. Nobody ever went to the Old Mill. It was a place shrouded in so many stories of wickedness – the burnings and be-headings; of supernatural forces that corrupted mortals and made them slaves to these evil ones that lived there. But this is where Evelyn lived. He had seen her beauty. She was angelic – the very antithesis of evil. He had to see her again and going to the Old Mill was the only way he could achieve that.

The broken gate hung on one hinge. Adam left his bike in the long grass, crossing the overgrown threshold on foot and started down the steep-winding pathway to the Old Mill – here the trees formed a gloomy canopy overhead, cutting down the natural sunlight, like an arched tunnel down to hell. Adam had looked back – maybe this was not a good time to be brave? But he had come this far . . . he pictured Evelyn, so pretty, her smiling face beamed back at his in his mind. ‘You’ve seen me in your dream.’ He heard her sweet voice. He walked further done the track. He could see the silhouette of the Old Mill beyond the graveyard and the tunnel of trees. The sky was blacker. Darker. He shivered and felt the hairs stand up on the back of his neck.

He heard a strange sound, as if someone was maimed or hurt, and it was coming from within the wooded area, off to the left-hand-side of the track – the woods were too dense to make out what it was but it sounded like a low groan. The woods are haunted. There are ghosts in there. The headless corpses roamed these woods looking for victims. Nobody goes down to the Old Mill – Adam stepped into the woods leaving the beaten track.

“Hello? Hello? Anyone there?” His voice sounded hollow among the shafts of tree bark that blocked much of the daylight. He heard a groan again. It was definitely a groan and he tried to guess at the direction in which it came. Between the vertical blinds created by the uneven closeness of the trees, he could see several forms that looked like children – playing it the woods, maybe this was their idea of a joke . . . trying to scare him? He bent low and moved forward towards the sounds . . . he could just make out the shapes . . . flesh . . . bodies . . . moving against each other . . . naked flesh . . . young bodies moving back and forth . . . dancing . . . naked in the woods? The groaning was sexual. They were all fucking. Adam become unintentional aroused at the sounds of their primal grunts . . . a young effeminate boy on all fours, another at his rear, tightly gripping his narrow hips and thrusting aggressively back and forth against his backside; another knelt in front, copulating with the boy’s mouth.

The boy seemed to be forced against his will. It was rape. His muffled cries, gagged with a boy-cock pounding his face. The other two boys moans became more urgent . . . seeking licit pleasure. Adam’s excitement had quadrupled as he saw the boy struggling against his will, his flaccid little penis dangling between his spread thighs – fucked front and back ferociously. Adam’s hand slipped into his shorts, wrapped around his own throbbing cock and he started masturbating while watching the three of them . . . he thought he recognized one of the boys . . . the one between, he looked a lot like Leslie, his younger brother’s face streaming with tears and snot from his nose. Adam smothered a gasp. The boy fucking Leslie furiously in the ass looked like the Chambers’ boy . . . that demon . . . Larkin; and the other boy in front, raping his mouth . . . looked like himself?

Adam gasped again.

Awaking suddenly in the darkness of his bedroom. He dripped with perspiration . . . his cock thick with blood. He closed his eyes, as if returning to the woods, to the highly arousing rape scene, his hand found his cock beneath the bedclothes and immediately began thrusting up and down as he imagined the unimaginable – the incestuous rape of his own baby brother. He groaned in his own self-pleasuring imagining his pathetic little brother struggling between Larkin and himself . . . a wave of perverted joy filled him, as if there had been a great void waiting to be filled with these dark sexual thoughts . . . he imagined the pair of them were demons fucking a hapless mortal – fucking his soul to hell! He bucked wildly in spasms of orgasmic delight, spraying himself with his salty seed.

xxxxx

Evelyn lay awake, waiting for her brother to join her. She had masturbated herself already half a dozen times that evening, but the horniness just wouldn’t leave her. She had imagined making love with the boy that she had met earlier that day. What was his name? Adam Collins, the son of the preacher. An image of him standing against the burning doorway . . . her savior. There was something about him that was different. He looked at her with loving eyes. It was not simply the devilish lust she felt between her and her brother – it was more than lust, something magical. She had fantasized about loosing her virginity to him, feeling a cock inside her vagina for the first time, looking lovingly into each other’s eyes as his semen flowing into her as she reached orgasm over and over. He had confirmed what she already knew; that he had visited her before in their dreams.

Had they been intimate? If not she knew they would be. She had not wanted him to know too much too soon. Not with Larkin around. He would be jealous. Yes, she knew it. He was like that. Something bad would happen to Adam if Larkin knew her feelings. Even now, she could hear her Aunt in the master bedroom down the hallway. He was with her. Fucking her in every hole. She grunted so lewdly, so blasphemously. She was so perverted. She had been the one that had encouraged them to commit incest together from an early age – anal sex, she said, was Satan’s gift . . . soon she too had joined in making it an incestuous threesome, performing her evil sex rituals, praising the demons for their orgasmic delights . . . the pleasures, oh the pleasures, had been so sordid . . . her supine body had been an evil altar on which her Aunt had defecated and her brother had eaten her Aunt’s feces before they both had urinated over her and each other, praying to Baal for even greater deviant delights!

“Are you awake sister?” Larkin hissed. He smelt of her Aunt’s cunt.

“Yes, my brother.” She said submissively laying on her front, pushing her backside up in anticipation of his cock’s attention.

“Aunt Sophia has decreed that it will be soon the time that I must take your virginity . . . you will be fertile and we must conceived a baby . . . she says it is our sacred duty.”

“You stink of my whore Aunt.”

Larkin smacked her ass hard and laughed.

“Don’t be so jealous my pretty sister. My cock is always hard . . . I have more than enough . . . for the both of you.”

What if I don’t want to get pregnant? What if I wanted Adam to take my virginity? A strange notion crossed Evelyn’s mind. She was aware of the spell that her Aunt hungered for – the Devil’s gift of immortality of sorts . . . of childish beauty restored. A virgin made pregnant by incest. A sacrifice. The unborn fetus would be drawn from her and eaten alive by her Witch Aunt. An ancient and bloody ritual. Had her parents been alive, this would not have been possible. Could her perverted Aunt have had anything to do with their untimely and horrific death? It was too horrible to contemplate. How she manipulated her brother, how he worshiped her like a sexual goddess . . . a succubus . . . the evil magic that she weaved upon them both as they danced naked, fornicated for her as she masturbated upon long carved penises made of human thigh bones. Her demonic rites and druidic prayers . . . what did it all mean?

Larkin had been corrupted. He was like her wicked Aunt. He was her acolyte. He pressed his cock head against her anus, its length still soiled from intercourse with her aunt. Yes, he needed her brother’s long penis inside her as her fingers worked her erect clitoris . . . but she did not think about him . . . instead she imagined it was Adam on top of her, his body pumped against her, his sweet mortal semen flowed into her willing bowels.

 

WICKED SOULS & TAINTED HEARTS – CHAPTER 2 (2,963 WORDS)

Adam lay back on his bed. He was almost asleep immediately. It was an uneasy, restless sleep. He tossed and turned. His pique, the girl at the window stood very still. Her long black hair moved like liquid in the breeze. Adam called her name . . . “Evelyn” . . . he whispered . . . he had never spoken in this repetitive dream before . . . she turned . . . her naked body shone in the ambient light. Her flat boyish chest, waifish physique and hairless mons excited him. “Come to me.” She said. He found that he was also naked besides her. They kissed briefly as he caressed her flowing hair over her neck – it was so soft and silky. She smelt as beautiful as she looked. Adam breathed her in.

He closed his eye as he felt lips pressed against lips. Hungry mouths opened and tongues exchanged spit as he felt her arms draw him closer until they touched chest to chest, stomach to stomach . . . but as he pressed him groan forward he felt a hard penis against his stomach. He opened his eyes to see the face of Larkin staring back at him . . . he shocked but did not pull back. Larkin grinned sardonically, hungrily. He pulled him closer, rubbing their cocks together with gusto, grinding their shafts against one another. Adam’s hips thrust with a mind of their own. Larkin pressed upon his shoulders and Adam fell to his knees, bowing him head and taking Larkin’s thick cut cock into his mouth. “Suck me motherfucker – eat my cum! Tomorrow we fuck your little brother!

Adam awake suddenly. He was drenched in sweat again. The dream did not fade at all – it had an unnervingly realism that left Adam panting for more. In fact it felt incredible. He immediately drew back the bed covers and gripped his own rock hard penis, remembering how it felt to have the hot flesh Larkin’s cock in the roof of his mouth. He groaned as he furiously rubbed himself, only stopping when he eventually began to quiver all over, bucking uncontrollable with one of the most power orgasms he had ever experienced. He shot his salty load over his chest and chin. He scooped up his own ejaculate and eat it, as he thought about Larkin’s voice in his head . . . “suck me motherfucker – eat my cum! Tomorrow we fuck your little brother!”

xxxxx

Evelyn lay naked across the tossed bed. It was early morning and the summer sun was already at almost at its full strength. Larkin lay fast asleep on his back, as he did most mornings after a long night of sex with both his Aunt and sister. Her hands toyed with his flaccid cock and loose ball sacks. She thought about the first time they had both come to the Old Mill. It had been after her parents had died in the tragedy. They had both been so young and naïve back then. Their evil Aunt had wasted no time in abusing them both sexually, though at the time, she had not understood exactly what that had meant.

Her Aunt Sophia had brought them both to her bed and the three of them had slept naked together . . . they were kin she explained . . . we must keep each other warm . . . there should have been no issue, only that first night, she had awaken by movements in the bed. With sleepy eyes she witnessed her older brother, then eight years old, lying between her Aunt’s open thighs, his mouth eagerly pleasuring her, while his hand was wrapped around his tiny penis. Evelyn, had pretended to be asleep, unsure and scared of what she had seen – only knowing that it felt terribly wrong but strangely exciting at the same time. But the following night her Aunt caught her watching the two of them fornicating, the slightest of movement of her hands between her legs must have given her away.

She remembered the sardonic smile on her Aunt’s face, as she encouraged Evelyn to take her brother’s place between her spread legs. She had thought it repulsive and vulgar at first, but cut-off from the world she knew and from the parents she loved, she had become needy of the attention of her Aunt Sophia, maybe thinking back quite a deliberate plot? So she had tentatively begun to lick between her Aunt’s thick protruding labia and then gently inside her pinkish gash of her Aunt’s vulva. Aunt Sophia had exclaimed some strange words in a language she had not understood and then roughly held her head in place while thrusting angrily herself against the six-year-old’s face.

Yes, she had felt a new kind of enjoyment in the pleasuring of her strange Aunt . . . and night after night, her brother and her dutifully had performed oral sex on her and then orally pleasuring each other under their Aunt’s perverted instructions. Sex was only the first dimension of their Aunt’s strangeness – cut off from the outside world in the place where other were afraid to go . . . her Aunt shared her visions of the sexual worship of demons, black magic and an evil that consumed her every waking moment. Her perverted Aunt was never sate and their childhood that should have been filled with toys and games, school and young friendship, became dedicated to Aunt Sophia’s deviant rituals and shameless enjoyment of pedophilia.

To say that it was purely one-way, would have also been a lie. Both Larkin and herself seemed to be desirous of these dark desires, and her Aunt was adept at teaching her the magic of her kin . . . something that it seemed her own mother had shunned, but with her gone, Evelyn was to be her adopted protégé. Sophia had told them both that it had been their grandmother who had instructed her from a very early age, sexually involving both her and their mother in her incestuous magic. Their mother had broken their pact to run away with their father . . . a terrible mistake that ended in tragedy.

Evelyn’s virginity seemed to be of the upmost importance and though she would have willingly given it up to her brother, on her Aunt’s insistence, she was to partake only in anal sex until her fourteenth birthday . . . for reasons never divulged. Only in her secret study of her Aunt’s black art books had she happened upon what she believed to be her morbid plan. It was all connected somehow . . . the dreams, her virginity, and the unborn sacrifice.

She had long dreamed of vaginal penetration and now more than ever before her thoughts moved away from her brother to that handsome young boy . . . Adam . . . her savior . . . was it providence? Adam and Evelyn . . . Adam and Eve . . . original sin in the Garden of Eden . . . she had no need for the ‘apple of carnal knowledge’ . . . her Aunt, the evil serpent, Lilith had already tainted her and imparted that upon her . . . but young Adam . . . sweet young Adam . . . she wanted his semen to flow between her legs more than the incestuous fruits of her own perverted kin . . . her Aunt would be very furious with her thoughts. Maybe, if she gave her Aunt what she wanted, then maybe she would be free . . . but something intuitively told her that the black magic, that gave her Aunt an immortality of kind, would leave its mark . . . she remembered her dream of being pregnant, of the guillotine and of the rape and execution . . . what did it mean? Inwardly, she knew that this would end badly for her . . . she needed to escape! Oh Adam, my love!

xxxxx

It was after school and Adam was supposed to go straight home, have dinner and attend to the mountain homework that filled his school satchel. He had told his mother that he was going to meet one of his school friends, Simon Walker, after school, so that they could work on their assignments together – it was a lie. Instead he collected his bike and cycled down to the Old Mill. His dream seemed even more real as he left his bike behind in the tall grass. Déjà vu. He began the walk on foot down the hill past the gate. The tunnel of trees looked exactly like his dream. He pinched himself hard to make sure it was real. Despite the darkness, his heartbeat faster, not from fear, but from excitement was seeing Evelyn again.

The Old Mill stood across from the cemetery with no names. Adam walked around the low stonewall, made of old flint and granite stones, that separated the track from the unmarked graves of these accused and executed for witchery. He walked faster, almost running until he reached the Old Mill . . . he stopped and looked up at the blackened windows that looked like evil eyes starring back at him with malice. Which was Evelyn’s window? He had not the faintest idea what to do now he was here. His plan had not really considered this point. Should he just knock on the door? Was it true what they said about the Old Witch . . . with crooked nose, warts and broomstick? His prayers were answered. A small face appeared in the window frame, looking down at where he stood and then disappeared again. He waited to see what would happen next.

The side door opened quietly and he could see Evelyn. She beckoned him to come. He took a sharp breath and made his way towards the side entry. Evelyn was smiling and then held her finger up to her lips, as if to say, be quiet. He returned the warmth of her smile and said nothing while she closed the door behind her and waved him to the rear of the Old Mill – towards the dilapidated barn. He followed noticing her looking around to make sure that the two of them were not noticed by anyone else – he presumed her Aunt or Larkin or both of them were still in the Old Mill. Inside the barn she grabbed his hand and pulled him behind the half closed door. Again, her hand was shockingly cold.

“You came.” She said excitedly.

“Yes I did.” He replied, equally unrepressed in his joy.

“Did you tell anyone that you were coming?”

“No. Why?”

“I just want to keep it a secret.” She answered, still holding his hand in hers – he noticed she was trembling. “Did you dream of me again?”

“Yes I did.” He lied.

“I dreamt of you too.”

“What does it mean?”

“I haven’t quite figured it out . . . but something is suppose to happen to me before my fourteenth birthday . . . you see . . . I’m not like the other kids in your school Adam . . .” She sounded apologetic.

“Don’t worry . . . you can trust me . . .”

“When you see me in your dreams . . . am I . . . am I naked?” She asked, her eyes downcast in embarrassment.

“Yes. What about me? I mean in yours?”

Evelyn gave a little girlish giggle. “Yes. Sorry, and you were very excited . . . we kissed.” She added.

Now it was Adam’s turn to blush. Evelyn drew him closer. She pressed her lips against his. Their eyes remained wide open. Adam pressed his lips equally against hers and his hand lightly cradled her head from behind.

“I am supposed to be with someone else.” She said.

“Who?”

“I can’t say . . . it’s a curse . . . a wicked curse . . . but, I really want to be with you. If my Aunt finds out that you’ve been here, she’ll do something bad, I just know it.”

“But, I don’t understand? Why would you dream about me . . . and yet be cursed to be with someone else?”

“It’s very complicated. In my dream, we escape; we get away from here together . . . away from my Aunt and her predestined vision.”

“Is she a witch, like everyone says?” Asked Adam holding her firmly.

“There is a lot of truth in the hearsay Adam. But, I am of her blood. I am whatever she is . . . does that make you want to leave me?”

“No Evelyn. I cannot explain, but I think now that my dreams are being tainted. That somehow, she knows something about us and she’s trying to turn me away from you?”

“How? What happens in your dreams that make you think that?”

“I sometimes see . . . your brother.” He answered, honestly, but withholding his sexual attraction to her male sibling.

“My brother?” Evelyn paused. “She knows. He knows. They are working together against us . . . she needs me for something . . . and she thinks that while I have feelings for you, it endangers her desires . . . answer me, honestly, I will not think ill of you now . . . but does my brother also appear naked in your dreams?”

“Yes.” There it was, he told the truth. More truth than he was really prepared to venture. She looked at him softly. There was no judgment. She kissed his mouth a little harder.

“Thank you for telling me the truth. My brother and I . . . we have been together . . . I don’t mean to gross you out . . . I don’t want to be with him anymore . . . I want to be with you . . . can you accept my past, knowing that I want to be with you?”

He replied with a hug. They kissed again, each time with more and more passion. He felt his loins tingling as they held each other close.

“I don’t care about your past Evelyn . . . all I know is that I want to set you free from this thing that your Aunt has over you . . . what can I do?”

“I will turn fourteen in less than two weeks. I see my Aunt’s curse for me is to become pregnant with my brother’s child. She wants us to have a baby. I cannot see passed the fog that prevents me to see her reasons . . . I only know that I must be a virgin until that day.”

“So, if you’re no longer a virgin . . . then your Aunt won’t get her way? Her twisted plan will no come true?”

“It can’t be that simple. My Aunt is a very evil person. She knows black magic. She conjures evil spirits from the cemetery with no names . . . she has plans within plans . . . I have to figure it out before it is too late.”

Just then, Evelyn turned towards the barn door. Adam could hear nothing, but trusted her senses. She pointed towards the hay bails in the corner of the barn, stacked up about five high. Adam quickly ducked into the rear of the barn, hiding behind the wall of straw.

“Evelyn?” It was Larkin. He stuck his head around the barn door. “What you doing in here? Aunt Sophia is looking for you. She was calling your name. Didn’t you hear her call?”

“No I didn’t.” She answered very plainly.

“What’s going on?” Larkin stood in front of her and pulled her close to him. “You know I worry about you.” He kissed her mouth roughly and wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling him to his groin. “You’re such a little cock teaser! Fuck, you make me horny!” Evelyn was aware that Adam maybe able to see but was mindful of not allowing Larkin to know that they were not alone together.

“Not now Larkin. I came out here to get some fresh air. Can you let go of me?”

Larkin was not buying it. His cock was hard in his pants as he continued to grope her . . . all he was thinking about was fucking her ass on the dirty barn floor. A nice rough fuck. At some level, he knew that his Aunt’s need to know where she was had some importance, but he was thinking with his dick and not his brain.

“LARKIN . . . get off me! I am not in the fuckin’ mood!” She pushed against him, trying to break his grip on her. “If Aunt Sophia needs me, I had better go!”

“OH FUCK HER . . . come on baby . . . suck me off! I need to cum.”

With one big shove, she pushed him to the ground and turned on her heals and marched out of the barn. She did not dare to turn back, to look at Adam . . . she needed Larkin to follow her . . . chase her back to the Old Mill . . . Adam would be able to make his getaway . . . until next time they could be together. But Larkin did not follow. He stroked his crutch. His cock ached. He was still so fucking horny. If she was not going to suck him off, he was going to jack himself. His desire to cum was very strong.

 

WICKED SOULS & TAINTED HEARTS – CHAPTER 3 (3,328 WORDS)

Evelyn was tied across the phallic altar, her Witch Aunt chanted to evil dark gods for their obscene blessings . . . how her Aunt had changed, she looked so young, almost identical to Evelyn, and they could even be twins. Larkin rubbed himself furiously as Sophia fingers entered her niece, penetrating her, masturbating her . . . finger after finger, until her whole hand was inside, pushing deeper and deeper . . . Evelyn bucked against her, ashamed of the intensity of the pleasure . . . she screamed in orgasm . . . Evelyn she felt her water break at the touch of her evil Aunt’s sharp finger nail . . . it was too soon . . . the fetus was very underdeveloped . . . too young to be born . . . but that was the wickedness of her enchantment . . . the child was never to go full term . . . her Aunt would eat it alive! It was the way

xxxxx

Adam held his breath. He watched with disgust as Larkin kissed his little sister and forced himself upon her. He wanted to jump out and surprise him, strike him down and take Evelyn away tonight . . . to run as far as they could . . . but he could see that she was handling him, giving him nothing and plotting her escape. She was as cunning as they were – of the same blood. He saw her break free and clamber away, making the excuse about her Aunt looking for her – Larkin would not disobey his Aunt . . . even Adam could see that in his actions . . . and as Evelyn disappeared, he knew she did not dare look back as it would give him away. He would leave as soon as Larkin followed her back into the house. He would follow her. He would be upset about not getting his way . . . the filthy horny bastard. Adam felt Evelyn’s shame. Her pain was his. Having to put up with his sexual abuse . . . doing things to him because of her Aunt’s strange hold over the two of them. It was sick. It was wicked. But Larkin did not move. Adam could see that he was playing with himself on the straw covered ground . . . jacking his long thick cock and moaning in his own private pleasure. As Adam watched his private show, Larkin striped naked and continued to furiously masturbate, Adam felt his own cock move in his pants . . . a hardness that felt like it would burst from his pants. Adam turned away in self disgust . . . his dream of Larkin and their sexual encounters must have been put there by the Witch treachery . . . who thought it was enough to take his eye off of his true love, his beautiful Evelyn . . . he would calm down and wait for Larkin to go. Larkin would ejaculate and then go back to the Old Mill.

The groaning stopped abruptly. He must be finished by now? Adam looked back towards where Evelyn’s brother had been laying . . . the barn was now empty. Larkin must have gone, but his clothing still lay strewed over the barn floor. Maybe he went back naked? He was strange, handsome but strange. And his cock looked so fucking hot! Adam shook his head trying to think of something else, but he couldn’t. He would have loved to have jumped out on Larkin – no he would not have pushed him down and pulled his baby sister away . . . no he would have fallen on his knees and taken Larkin’s cock in his mouth . . . blew him right there and then, in front of that little slut . . . he would have told Larkin about their plans to run away before be could fuck a baby into her . . . their Aunt needed that baby . . . a blood sacrifice must be made to appease the unseen one . . . he understood what was to be done and nothing was to prevent it from happening . . . the unborn fetus must be offered to Satan!

Adam gasped in surprise. As he found his hand wrapped around his own cock, as he stood hiding behind the hay bails. Larkin was watching him, as he too stroked himself.

“My Aunt was right. You can be turned. Come . . . suck me motherfucker – eat my cum! Maybe tomorrow we both rape your little brother . . . YES . . . I know what you want, what you dream of . . . I want it too . . . bow down . . . NOW . . . offer yourself to him . . . suck my cock before I fuck your shit hole! I wanna PISS up your fucking ass! I want to clean my dirty cock after I fucked the SHIT and PISS into her guts! We’re gonna have so much fun in your daddy’s little chapel . . . a Black Mass . . yer, you, me, your family . . . incest before Lord Satan is so beautiful! Your whore mother fingering herself . . . I want you to fuck yer daddy over the altar . . . cum over the fucking CRUCIFIX as we all worship the HORNED GOD . . . AVE SATANAS! AVE SATANAS!”

Adam trembled. His mouth was dry and his chest rose and fell with excitement. He found himself knelling before Larkin. This was real. He was not dreaming. Larkin’s cock felt hot, thick and veined in his hands. One hand cradles Larkin’s balls while the other drew the mushroom head of his cock to Adam’s eager mouth. He lavished it with wet kisses, licking its length from his hairless balls up the pulsing shaft and opening his mouth wide, he took the crown of Larkin’s penis into his warm mouth.

“Altar boys make such great COCK SUCKERS . . . you know how to please a demon, don’t you boy? All you altar boys do is kneel before their priestly fathers, longing for semen to consecrate the HOST they hold in the mouth.

xxxxx

Father Jacob prepared the host and the wine at the Sunday gathering of the faithful in his small humble parish church. There was an unexpected murmur of voices. The congregation was stirred. Looking up from his dutiful routine he noticed an unexpected face among his flock. She had the entire front pew to herself . . . as nobody seemed to want to sit anywhere near her . . . it was Sophia Meredith. The Witch. Father Jacob was shocked to she her. It had been years. She looked stunning and radiant, just like the first time he had fallen for her, in the time before the calling to the priesthood, before his marriage to Elisa. He fumbled, but continued his preparation. He closed his eyes and dry swallowed. What does she want? Why here? Why now?

He could feel her predatory eyes upon him through the entire church service. It was an unnerving and unsettling feeling. The congregation would be a buzz of conjecture. They would all be wondering among themselves, whispering, gossiping, and speculating about what fiendish things that the Witch was up to being brazen enough to sit in mass among true God fearing Christians; insulting their holy service on a Sunday morning? He could even hear the dull murmurings. But to him, her evil had its secret allure, like nothing he could ever feel between the legs of his own wife . . . she made him so damn hard beneath his vestments. He was practically dripping. He had to shake this feeling. It was unnatural, unethical, and unchristian. Elisa was out of town, running library and church errands in the neighboring towns of Ashstead and Epsom; and as the church emptied, Father Jacob, who usually stood at the narthex of the parish to thank each and everyone for their attendance, he had deliberately slipped away out of view . . . hoping that Sophia, would go about her unpleasant business . . . whatever that consisted of.

“There you are Jacob,” said Sophia coolly. He had been discovered skulking in the rear of the refectory.

“Ms. Meredith, how nice to see you back in church.” The priest did not sound either sincere, or convincing.

“Sophia, please Jacob . . . you know formality is not my thing. We are way past that . . . and you know how I have little care for the worship of Jesus fucking Christ and that cunt Mary.” She laughed. Father Jacob should have felt contempt at her blasphemous comments . . . or at least a need to address them as a Christian Father . . . but he did not, as his eyes tried their best no to stare carelessly at her sensual form revealed beneath her short light dress. Despite knowing her approximate age, he could not believe how young she appeared. Her skin looked untouched by the years; her eyes bright; her breasts so fucking perky!

“What can I do for you Sophia?”

“Well. A threesome with your delicious little wife, Elisa, could be an interesting start.” She paused, knowing by the shocked look on his face, that he had probably fantasized about it on more than a few occasions. “Seeing you all dressed up in your priestly robes, so fucking hard at the altar, makes my cunt so wet and horny . . . don’t look so shocked, I read you like a book Jacob.” He made no resistance as her hand touched the front of his gown, gripping the distended shaped of his erect through his decorative robe.

“You are a godless whore. An evil succubus.” He closed his eyes and groaned at her touch. Her hands opened the gown from the front and slipped her hand around his urgent girth. “Oh fucking Christ!” He groaned.

“That I am . . . both a godless whore and an evil succubus. What compliments for an old lover . . . come now . . . kneel before me, as we did as children in the old bone yard!”

Father Jacob fell to his knees as Sophia raised the hem of her short dress to reveal her freshly shaved vagina . . . her pubic hair careful trimmed into the shape of an inverted cross . . . moisture glistened from her wet labia. Father Jacob shook with anticipation.

“Pleasure me Jacob, like before . . . when we were so young . . . and maybe not so naïve . . . do you think of me when you go down on that hapless bitch . . . so pretty and clean . . . so librarian-ish? Does her cunt smell as divine as mine . . . you use to love the smell of stale piss and dry semen?”

Jacob’s hand was wrapped around his cock as he was mesmerized by his evil enchantress, who cooed and groaned lewdly as the priest sucked and licked hungrily at her pink puffy vulva . . . sucking her abnormally pronounce clitoris . . . that swelled to the size of a small boy’s penis. Pushing his head back, she bent forward over the table, turning to look back at the deviant priest from over her shoulder. Jacob climbed to his feet and discarded his robes. His hands gripped her roughly from the hips as she bent forwards further, pushing her hips backwards to meet his rampant cock.

“Anal sex is Satan’s gift . . . I beat you don’t tell her that, when you fuck her up the ass?”

Jacob didn’t answer. Instead, he pushed his cock eagerly into her anal opening. It seemed to enter her so easily, but once inside the very walls of her colon constricted around his girth in a vice-like grip, the pleasure was intense . . . just as he remembered it from when he was a pre-teen . . . her anus began constricting and undulating as if milking his balls as he mindlessly thrust into her like there was no tomorrow.

“Aaarggghhhhhh,” he groaned.

The priest was on fire. He could not remember ever experiencing such delight, for the longest time . . . he shuddered in wanton bliss, as his entire body shook all over and convulsed in an orgasm like nothing he had her had with his spouse. His body collapsed over hers. She turned and kissed his mouth. Spent, Jacob staggered back. Sophia dropped to her knees and took hold of his sensitized penis . . . that still throbbed from an incredible orgasm. Sophia’s mouth was hot and wet, her lips wrapped around his soiled organ, her extremely long tongue lapping at the brown streaks that discolored his shaft. He moaned again. Unable to contain him self, he shuddered a second time in fifteen minutes as he ejaculated again into her throat . . . it wasn’t possible? But it happened . . . his second orgasm was equally as strong as the first.

Father Jacob sat down on one of the old couches in the refectory. His sexual energy completely spent. The succubus had consumed her fill. She smiled. He was still panting heavily as he tried to catch his breath. He looked at Sophia as she came and sat on the arm of the couch.

“Happy memories? Mmmmmm . . . you were delicious Jacob . . . fucked me like a horse . . . now, down to some business . . .” Sophia said as she lit a cigarette. It was one of those slim ones without a filter. “Your son has been hanging around my darling little Evelyn . . . make sure he stays away from her . . . do you understand me . . . I’m not fucking around here . . . if you don’t stop him, I will and that won’t be pleasant . . . and if by chance that little slut comes running to you for help . . . just remember that her virginity must only be taken by her kin.”

Father Jacob nodded. He was too exhausted to get up. He felt drained to the very bone marrow. He would need to rest for a while . . . she was Lilith, the bride of Satan, a beautiful succubus from hell that was never sate. The power of her sexual attraction was overwhelming. He thought about the fate of poor little Evelyn and the offering that must be made. His cock began to stiffen again.

xxxxx

Larkin masturbated him self. He lent across and tried to kiss his sister, but she refused to kiss him back. His cock needed her attention. He wanted her mouth to fuck – a deep throat that only she or his Aunt was able to give. When he went to grab her to pull her to him, she suddenly ducked around him, jumped out of the bedding and grabbed her crumpled dress from the floor.

“Come back to bed Eve!”

“Not now,” she answered, sounding frustrated, but not in a sexual way.

“He’ll think you’re a freak. Nobody loves you like I do. You and me, are kin, I understand what you need. We’re blood lovers, Aunt Sophia needs us to conceive a baby together . . . you’ve always looked forward to taking my seed in your womb . . . the moment is very close . . . come to me Eve!”

“What if I don’t want to?”

He knew what she was thinking. He read her like a book. She was in love with that stupid young kid . . . what’s his name again? Adam. The one he fucked this afternoon . . . the one who knelt before him and offered himself to the HORNED GOD . . . dumb fuck . . . he was so easily turned . . . now he only craves cock . . . how pathetic he looked, drenched in his piss, using his mouth to clean the cock that had just taken his anal virginity . . . and soon he would be willing seduce his own brother and offer him to me . . . ohhhhh! AVE SATANAS!

“He sucked my cock you know. Knelt before and drank my piss. Then I fucked his virgin ass and gave praise to Baal.”

“No.” She shouted and ran out the front door.

xxxxx

Evelyn was out of breath by the time she reached the gate. She hated Larkin. She loved him too. He was her brother and her lover. She was supposed to make love to him and take his seed into her fertile body . . . conceive an incestuous fetus to drawn forth in black magic to eaten by her Witch Aunt . . . she had long deciphered her evil and perverted Aunt’s secret book. Larkin and her were pawns in her wicked theater. Eve was in two minds.

A dark loyalty that held her firmly for many years against the breeze of a fresh love she felt for a boy that had now been tainted by her brother . . . she could save him, she could save the both of them. They could run away. His father was a priest who would surely know the best way to deal with her evil Aunt. She would confide in him the secrets of her deviant family history and he would help the both of them, Adam and Eve, the primal couple to escape the darkness of the eternal evil that her Witch Aunt evoked.

Her lungs hurt from the run, but she felt some solace in this simple plan. Yes, talk to Father Jacob . . . how to explain about her love for his son? Surely, he would not rebuff her, but would he believe in the truth? What of the sin of incest, not once but continuously for years? Then there was the tyranny of her Aunt, who made her perform countless disgusting and degrading sexual acts to appease demons that the Witch worshiped.

The human sacrifice of an unborn fetus consummated by incestuous child . . . the plan, she now suspected had cost the lives of her loving mother and father . . . the years of sexual abuse . . . she had been only six years old when it had all started . . . how the two of them had slowly and surely become unsuspecting and strangely willing participates in such a diabolical plot? Would he think her completely insane? What if Adam rejected her? She needed him so badly now. He gave her reason to fight. He too may think her, as her brother put it, a freak? But then he may have changed his mind . . . if Larkin had really done those things to him. It might be all too late!

She had reached the end of the village proper by this time. The last of the evening light was dying over the horizon, casting long eerie shadows . . . the hiding place of demons . . . she hated herself, hated what she had become . . . a puppet, that danced to the strings, pulled by the Witch of the Old Mill. The chapel was closed, but there were still lights on in the rear of the refectory. It would be where she could find sanctuary from this omnipresent evil that covered her with shame and fear. The light looked inviting and welcoming. She tentative knocked on the wooden door and waited for someone to answer. Please help me father, she thought.

 

WICKED SOULS & TAINTED HEARTS – CHAPTER 4 (3,623 WORDS)

Father Jacob opened the door slightly and gazed outwards. As the light from behind his head spilled out over the threshold, he instantly recognized the impish face of Sophia’s young niece, Evelyn . . . the one that had been involved somehow with his own son. She definitely had Sophia’s looks, as if she had been her own daughter . . . maybe sister even. A ubiquitous memory of little Sophia as a young promiscuous child leaped to the forefront of his mind . . . that seductress who had led him astray in the ancient bone yard.

His cock twitched as he remembered how sexually aggressive she had been, not just with him, but with others, many others, both male and female, encouraging them to dance naked together under the watchful eye of her own mother, Andrea . . . the BONE GODDESS, as they called her because of her necklace of human bones carved into phalluses that hung around her neck. It had been some kind of filthy pagan ritual. Disgusting. Vile. Sacrilegious.

zIt made him horny every time his thoughts went back to it. Sophia’s Mother had been the deviant ring-mistress, orchestrating their pre-teen orgy that her and her young daughter was the center of . . . they all called her the Bone Goddess and worshiping her naked adult body only made all her young acolytes excited and even more willing to participate in her dark dance. The Bone Goddess and her daughter bathed in their pre-teen urine, drinking it directly from its source as if it were fine champagne, drenched in it as they took turns on each and every eager cock as they prayed to strange names like Abaddon, Apollyon, Baal, Belial, Belphegor, Beelzebub, Dragon and Mammon… looking back now, Jacob quivered with the hunger of a devilish lust he was unable to ever quench since.

“Evelyn?” He asked.

“Yes Father Jacob, it’s me,” she answered apologetically.

“It’s rather late. The chapel is closed. What’s the matter dear?”

“Father . . . I need to talk to you . . . I am so sorry about the late hour, is Elisa here?”

“No I am afraid she isn’t. She’s away until . . . tomorrow I think? Look, do you want to come back then?”

“No Father, it’s your advice I seek, may I come in?”

“Of course my dear.”

Father Jacob eyed her suspiciously as she entered his private chamber. She looked distraught. What was she up to? How was Adam involved with her? Had she, like her mother, that sexual power over young boys? Willing them to please her in the name Satan. Dirty little whore . . . most definitely a willing lover of her own perverted Aunt. Fuck, she looks just like Sophia . . . as she did when she was that age.

A vivid memory to Toby Walters, another young boy his age laying naked and erect over a stone grave, Sophia mounting him, taking his penis into her anus, as she lay back over him drenched in their collective piss. Denny Bolton had climbed onto her, pushing his cock into her vagina . . . the pair of them fucking her in front of him, as she called him to use her mouth . . . her mother masturbated with a long bone phallus . . . screaming something obscene, something blasphemous, something demonic . . . the orgasms . . . ohhh! The fucking intensity of those cum drenched orgasms! AVE SATANAS!

“Father?”

Father Jacob pulled back from his illicit and shameful memories to the present. He looked at Evelyn, but he only saw Sophia.

“Don’t cry . . . Sorry, I’ll get you a drink of something. You look like you need a stiff drink. I certainly need one too.”

xxxxx

Evelyn looked at the priest in bewilderment. He seemed so intense one moment and then distant the next . . . she could smell her Aunt on him. She had been here . . . with him tonight . . . they had performed sex together, several times, in the absence of his wife, Elisa. It was not the first time . . . but maybe the first time in a long time . . . they had been childhood lovers . . . her Grandmother Andrea’s influence no doubt. There were others in the town . . . both male and female . . . that were strangely bound to her evil Aunt. She recognized the signs. Late night visitors . . . she vaguely remembered when she was still very young . . . they had participated in sexual rituals with her . . . with animals that they slaughtered . . . with the bone phalluses . . . men on women, women on women, men on men . . . with dark sex magick . . . she could not trust this pervert priest.

Father Jacob returned with two strongly alcoholic drinks in his hands. He had already skulled one and the one he carried was his second.

“Not really suppose to give you this, but under the circumstances. Here my dear, drink this, it’ll help,” he said downing his second in one gulp.

Evelyn sipped the brownish clear liquid. Of course she had drunk many times before with her brother. It was no big deal. She downed the drink down. It did make her feel better. He poured another. She drank in. Her head did feel rather strange . . . a nice kind of strange.

“Thanks,” she said smiling thinly after a long silence.

“So . . . what did you want to tell me my dearest?” Gushed the overtly amorous Father Jacob as he sat very close to her on the old couch. She had something important to say to him, something that he would be able to help her with, but she was having a little difficulty on remembering it exactly. She was distracted by his hand on her bare leg, caressing and stoking her mid-thigh, just below her hemline. His hands felt warm and strong. The lecherous old bastard is feeling me up. She wanted him to touch her higher. That’s it you perverted fuck. His thick fingers brushing up against her naked crutch.

Mmmmmm. Yes, it felt good as he rubbed her clit and fondled her flat chest through the thin material of her dress. He wasted no time as he lifted the dark fabric of his priestly Cossack and placed her small fragile hand over his the dark skin of thick throbbing cock. He moans lewdly as her hand glided up and down his raw meat. She felt an urgent tingling all over. Her mind was blank to her intent, only sexual feelings seemed to be important right now . . . he roughly kissed her mouth, his thick wet tongue forced its way into her mouth as he rubbed her clit harder.

“Piss into this for me my dearest,” whispered the priest, holding the empty whisky tumbler between her open thighs. “No wait.”

He got up and retrieved the silver chalice similar to the one that he used in church, but was decorated with a five-pointed star within a circle. It looked like the symbol of protection against evil . . . only this one was inverted . . . her vagueness aside, she knew that this implied the spirit of subversion to one’s carnal desires . . . at its centre was the head of a goat . . . a sixth formative element that controlled from within, a will controlled by the magick of sexual energies . . . she peed noisily into the chalice.

“That’s it my little whore. Fill it up. Make the Elixir of Sin.” He groaned thrusting against her fist.

The chalice brimmed with her yellowish fluids. He brought it her lips.

“Drink unholy child, taste Satan’s communion. I will bugger you upon the Altar of Christ.”

Evelyn drank deeply from the chalice of piss as she too thrust harder against the priest’s hand. Her urine tasted sharp and salty. Standing up, the priest discarded his Cossack. Evelyn slipped her dress over her head and stood naked before the excited priest. He took her hand and led her into the darkened chapel. There, he helped her to knee upon the altar, her ass in the air, waiting to be fucked hard and long. Oh blasphemous priest sodomize me. Father Jacob held up the chalice and drank into contents.

“AVE SATANAS.”

He too, now mounted the altar and positioned himself behind Evelyn’s raised backside. His hands held her hips as he pushed the head of his cock against her rectum that seemed to easily accommodate his cock. He groaned in instant satisfaction as he sank his cock right down to the hilt, his balls slapped against her. “Oh GAWD! FUCKING CHRIST! HOLY SHIT!” He groaned as her anal muscles seemed to grab the entire length of his cock, strangling its length like a boa constrictor.

“SATAN BE PRAISED!!!” He yelled as he sawed slowly back and forth, as the pressure inside Evelyn’s bowels milked his cock . . . almost as beautifully as her Aunt.

xxxxx

Adam could not go home. Not right away. He felt hesitant and nervous. Adam sat down on a grave and lent up against its headstone. Its earthy coldness soaked against his nakedness and he welcoming it against the warmth of the summer night. Never would he lay in the bone yard. It usually scared him. No body goes down to the Old Mill, he thought. But it felt different tonight. But there was guilt and confusion. He even felt strangely defiled – used by Evelyn’s handsome brother, Larkin, as if it were some kind of weird sexual game . . . NO . . . it was a distraction from his reason to be . . . he loved a girl, a strange but wonderful girl . . . he could live with her faults and bizarre past, if she would love him in return.

Had he already broken the love spell he felt for her with his indiscretion with her perverted brother? The pull of sexual desire was strong . . . homosexual desires that he had never had imagined he would entertain . . . how could he truly give himself, when he longed to suck cock? NO . . . love would conquer all . . . it was about sacrifice . . . for Evelyn, it was worth it . . . he would do anything for her . . . they were soul mates . . . they were destined to be together.

“Adam.” Said a soft female voice from beyond the shadows. He felt no fear, just curiosity. Who was it? “Adam.” She advanced. A face that was highly recognizable. Evelyn? She looked a little more mature in the moonlight? Was he dreaming again? Really, he must be safe and alone in his own bed? She smiled with Evelyn’s mouth. Her cold bony fingers ran through his hair, touching him lovingly. Was he seeing the future, an image of his love, a year or two from now? Her nakedness straddled his. His erect penis pressed upwards directly against her warm wet pussy. Take her virginity and the evil spell of her Aunt would surely be broken.

“Ohhh, Evelyn,” groaned Adam as he felt his penis finally penetrate her vagina. Its slick wetness enveloped his quivering cock, wrapping it in hot velvet flesh. She grinned, extended her tongue and then kissed his mouth. Their mouths ground against each other as he sank further into her silkiness. Again she smiled at him silently as her hypnotic eyes penetrated his very soul. Her body began to move against his, slowly riding up and down on his cock, drawing him to suck her small pointed breasts. Her nipples felt harder than the stone of their graveyard bed. His balls ached as he felt close to ejaculation . . . inside her . . . the spell would be broken at last, she would be free. “I love you,” he whispered. As the words left his lips he succumb to the wave of orgasmic delight that shook him from his head to his toes. His entire body tensed and bucked violently against her. “Evelyn, Oh Evelyn . . . I love you.”

“Evelyn?” She said with a slightly mocking tone. Adam looked at her unsure of himself. Her voice seemed deeper; more woman than girl. Had he lost control and done something that they would both regret? He looked into her eyes for reassurance. “No my dear . . . my niece beds your pervert father right now as you bed her Aunt . . . darling . . . please . . . call me Goddess Sophia!”

xxxxx

Elisa was tired from her short trip away from the church refectory, that she called her home. Library business. Church business. It was now well and truly dark and for some unexplainable reason she seemed rather jumpy tonight. There was no obvious reason for it, but upon her return to the sleepy village of Leatherhead, she had had a strange feeling in her guts that something was going on . . . she just was not sure what.

She actually had a slight guiltiness from being away her husband and lover, Jacob. Though there were times when they seemed to be at odds with each other. In fact, they had in the past argued frequently, tonight she felt horny and looked forward to something hot and spicy. Despite being the spiritual leader of their village, guiding their village parish in weekly prayers to God Almighty, they both shared a little secret.

It had been quite accidental, on Elisa’s part, whilst looking up religious sites online she came across some ghastly websites containing some of the most blasphemous sexual material available. She was completely shocked. As the wife of the Leatherhead priest, she should have been horrified and disgusted . . . but her shock was more personal than that . . . it was the shock of discovering how much it turned her on!

She had long scorned those who look at pornography, had discouraged others from the vice and unchristian sins of self-pleasuring . . . but alone with such utter sacrilegious filth . . . she felt suddenly different. Elisa carefully checked the refectory office door was securely closed and then returned to look . . . to look at what she would have considered the unthinkable . . . girls, very young girls . . . whores dressed as seductive nuns revealing themselves whilst touching their most private parts, masturbating with crucifixes and even dildos shaped as phalluses with her loving Jesus still crucified in latex upon them, sometimes inserting religious statues of the Blessed Mother Mary into their wanton vaginas and even up their anuses, displaying their naked breasts, pierced nipples and vaginas . . . it all made her very, very wet . . . there were men too, some dressed as monastery monks in habits, priests in their vestments, even bishops wearing their miters . . . their rampant cocks hard and dripping, as they rubbed themselves and each other, lecherous as they presided over immoral scenes involving naked young altar boys performing oral and anal sex upon the Altars of Christ . . . She found her fingers pressing against urgently her erect clitoris as she viewed images of mock crucifixions, chalices being filled with urine, semen being sprayed over the Good Book . . . in no time she became an addict!

If her husband knew about this awful turn of events, he would certainly divorce her or worst, expose her to the local community for her blasphemous thoughts. She would be shunned as a pervert and a predator. Or so she thought. It had been Jacob, who had found these disturbing and repulsive images that she had so sinfully viewed in their computer cache. He had not said or done anything about it, but had observed this increasingly perverted pursuit of his wife’s with some eagerness. She would later find out that he too shared a passion for this sacrilegious fetish and had been into it for quite sometime, amassing a large collection of blasphemous pornographic movies that he regularly used to masturbate himself to between masses.

The situation came to ahead when one night, whilst she thought her husband was asleep, she had wanted to indulging herself in some blasphemous fun, sitting naked and masturbating at the computer, she eagerly sourced the most perverted images she could find . . . satanic sex, the worship of sex demons, fornication as ritual of praise, the molestation of young children in the name of her new perverted god, Lucifer. This is when he saw her, much to his delight, pushing her crucifix into her wet pussy, her mouth uttering obscenities and blasphemies.

This is when he intervened. He made a noise in the bedroom, loud enough for her to be spooked into stopping her fervent masturbatory pleasures in fear of being caught. She hurriedly returned to the bedroom. Flushed and still very aroused. As she entered, she stopped at the sight of her husband, dressed in his priestly Cossack, wearing in large inverted cross, his stiff cock pushing through the dark material.

“What . . . what are you doing?” She asked unsure of the situation as she stood naked at the doorway. She was still feeling very guilty about her nocturnal private pleasures. Hoping that he had not heard her in the office.

“Do you like my outfit? As we’re both awake, am I was feeling a little horny, I thought we could do a little role-play?”

Elisa, was glad that she had not been caught in the act, especially because of the insidious nature of the material she had been getting off too. She was still hot and horny and the situation presented an interesting departure point.

“Well, I have never done anything like that before . . . what do we do exactly?” She asked as she took the initiative of touching his erection, as a form of encouragement towards this foray into unchartered territories. “Are you playing the part of a satanic priest, performing a perverted sex ritual for Satan?”

“And if I was, would be playing my willing acolyte, a Satanic worshipping whore wanton of blasphemous sodomy upon the Altar of Christ?”

“Role play? Just . . . role play?”

“Of course,” Jacob answered thrusting against her hand that now gripped his cock tightly.

“Yes, then . . . I like that idea . . . I like it a lot!” She lifted the inverted cross and kissed it. “Hail Satan,” she added.

“Hail Satan!” Jacob repeated.

Excitedly they had used the chapel for the first time . . . both apprehensively, as it felt such a violation . . . but in the intense emotion of this blasphemous act, came the heart-pumping thrill and orgasms so powerful that soon they used the Altar, the confessional, nothing remained sacrosanct. Jacob, as the demonic priest, had fucked Elisa now countless times in all her holes, as the continued their so-called games of ‘role play’ – always pretending to pretend . . . oh, it’s just a game . . . just some sexy fun . . . nothing too untoward . . . but they both knew that they each had an serious sexual fetish.

They had never got on so well. The priest and his perverted wife had purchased all manner of objects of satanic worship to use in their little games. Phallic black candles, sacrificial knives, the Goat of Mendes, inverted pentagons. They shared and masturbated themselves and each other to blasphemous and satanic porn – the more depraved and demonic the better! They imagined rituals where young ones were to be offered to their dark gods, both male and female, orgies of wantonness and debauchery, about non-consensual sex, rape and even castration fantasies.

Jacob had eventually confessed to his early sexual experiences with the woman that they both knew as the ‘Witch’ in the village. He told her in great detail how her mother, Andrea Meredith, had been instrumental in the seduction. How the young Sophia had fucked and sucked almost every dick in the village, and sucked on most of the vaginas too. Elisa had expressed great sexual interest in these stories, masturbating as Jacob recounted their activities in the old bone yard . . . the participation of some of others that she knew as so-called good ‘god-fearing’ parishioners. Elisa’s interest seemed to peak when Jacob recounted how they had performed actual demonic rituals, devil worship as they all danced naked as children, fucking and sucking, while Sophia’s mother, the BONE GODDESS, had chanted mysteriously whilst urinated over them.

Now, returning home, from within the refectory, she could hear primal grunting sounds emitting from the closed chapel. She entered to behold her husband fucking a young girl spread-eagled upon the Altar of Christ, balls deep in her bowels; he screamed all manner of blasphemies. Yes, he was very naughty to do such a thing . . . without her . . . but her cunt dripped at the sight of the young naked girl . . . a fantasy she wanted to make come true.

Horny beyond reason, Elisa stripped naked and approached the Altar of Christ. But then again, she had forgotten to mention to her husband that her ‘out-of-town-church-and-library’ business had involved another woman, someone she had met online in an occult chat-room who had shared with her numerous satanic sex fantasies. They had discretely met up in a hotel room for some girl-on-girl ‘role-play’ . . . now Elisa had a taste for perverted lesbian sex, this young girl offered a new dimension – she wanted to abuse her . . . force her suck her juicy wet cunt.

“Hail Satan!” She said, as her husband realized that she was there. He grinned evilly. She knew that he would be only too pleased to share this moment with his perverted lover and she mounted the Altar.

“Hail Satan,” he responded, not stopping his thrusting motions. In fact her presence seemed to make him even hungrier.

“Just role-play?”

Elisa crouched over the naked girl, guiding her open mouth up against her vulva that openly dripped over her. “Yes!” She groaned as the girl’s tongue sank between her quivering labia.

He laughed. “Yes my evil queen, just role-play . . . glad you could join us!”

xxxxx

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