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.
STORY CODES: LGBT themes, Incest, Coercion, Corruption, Lolita, NC, Rape, Sadism, WS, Scat, Pedophilia, Snuff, MC, Demons, Supernatural, Evil themes
AUTHOR NOTES: For my good friend Eldassi Sside from Paris. Where the sun doesn’t shine – well not that often). Thanks for the ingredients to the story outline. I hope I can do it justice.
ZALIVA & HER EVIL DAUGHTERS – SYNOPSIS
It is the summer of year 2010. The place is NYC. Zaliva Ivkin, the tall, elegant wife of the famous plastic surgeon to the stars, Dr. Alexander Ivkin, lives a life of absolute privilege. Zaliva and her two young daughters, Dina aged twelve and Vera aged eleven, live in one of Manhattan’s most elegant and coveted addresses. She could want for nothing?
But Zaliva is bored. She longs to appease her secret depraved nature. Outwardly, she supports various charities, helping the less fortunate. But this is all a front. In reality, she sees people as nothing more than possessions, to be used to do as she pleases, especially for her sexual enjoyment. Her perversity, like her spending power, knows no bounds. Her husband is cuckold, and her daughters keep her darkest of all secrets.
Zaliva believes in the supernatural, considering herself adept at the black arts to gain further wealth and power. Her daughters indulge themselves in the most unsavory and incestuous of activities, corrupting wealthy friends, abusing servants to appease their evil mother.
It is unfortunate for their nanny, a quiet mother of two meek and undersized boys, they are perfect for Zaliva’s domination and sadistic fantasies. And when innocent eleven year old, Samantha, daughter of a well-connected businessman, befriends Zaliva’s daughters, the opportunity to coerce and corrupt her is just too good to pass up. When her husband dies in a mysterious tragedy. They mourn his death, but in secret gives thanks to the demons they believe serve their evil purposes as Zaliva furthers her clandestine investments in sordid underground projects involving Satanism, pedophilia and snuff. Is she beginning to spiral out of control in a drug-fueled sexual frenzy or simply fulfilling her sadistic and murderous ambitions?
ZALIVA & HER EVIL DAUGHTERS – CHAPTER 1 (2,058 WORDS)
It was Saturday, 19th June 2010. Central Park was ablaze with mid-summer color. It had been the perfect day for a birthday party and pretty little Vera Ivkin had just turning eleven. Her sassy older sister Dina, who was already twelve and a half, had been equally thrilled by all the fun and excitement that had unfolded for her sister’s celebrations.
Friends and associates of the Ivkin family had gathered from all around, and her mother, Zaliva, had organized the exclusive use of the Central Park Zoo for the duration. All public access had been prohibited, and there had been special tenting erected in the grounds for the party itself. No extravagance was too much for her daughters. But now, as the last of the guests were ushered out, Zaliva could drop here guard. Dressed conservatively in her Tory Burch linen tunic, she lit up her first cigarette for the day, dragged on it and blew the bluish smoke out.
“Oh Mummy, it was perfect. You made all my dreams come true,” gushed little Vera with her perfectly educated diction. She kissed her mother’s mouth sliding her tiny pointed tongue in between Zaliva’s teeth tasting the red wine and cigarette on her breath.
“Nothing is perfect Vera. No . . . maybe . . . that Samantha Simpson is? She’s the daughter of Governor Simpson . . . you will invite her for one of our nasty little a sleepovers. It is almost the eve of the Grand Climax . . . and that will be perfection.”
“Oh can we Mummy?”
“Yes, isn’t that what I said? It’s important – it must be next weekend! ”
Zaliva flicked the still burning cigarette butt at one of the animal exhibits.
“Mummy, you should do that!” Said Dina, as she looked at the sad looking brown bear behind the bars.
“Dina. I will do whatever I want. I’ll stub it out it the fucking bear’s eyes, if I feel like!”
“No Mummy, I didn’t mean that. That police detective is still around.”
“Thanks, but if he ever thought of interfering, I’d fucking castrated him!”
“What’s ‘castrated’ Mummy?” Asked Vera.
“It’s what your mother did to your gutless wimp of a father,” Zaliva laughed at her own joke.
Why had she ever married such a weak and feeble man? He could never fulfill me in any way! He was such a fucking crybaby! Zaliva’s husband, Dr. Alexander Ivkin, had become well known among the Hollywood ‘A’ listers and the signature of his work was that there was no signature – ‘more real than real’ that was his motto. As a plastic surgeon of remarkable skill, the changes and modifications he made were flawless, natural looking and nothing short of genius.
Demand for his work was increasing exponentially – and so had the price tag. Alex had been, by nature, an extreme introvert. He shied away from the limelight, but Zaliva was the opposite. She loved being the center of attention and was skilled at manipulating every situation to her distinct advantage. The public face of Zaliva Ivkin was one of enigma – on one hand, she was seen to help the disadvantaged and the impoverished; on the other were the personnel accesses and self-indulgences of her private life.
Simply put, Zaliva had had no respect for her lame husband. He had been the wallet, pure and simple. Most times she told him to sleep elsewhere, as she didn’t want to see his sorry face, and certainly did want him to touch her. He obediently did as she asked.
He long suspected that she was finding her sexual gratification elsewhere, but he didn’t have the guts and was too dependent upon her approval to ever challenge her on this . . . or on any of the many issues that troubled him. His daughters had long ago picked up on their mother’s negative opinion and displeasure in their father and consequently he was treated like a second-class citizen in his own home.
Zaliva was a porn addict and a sexual deviant. In the early days of their marriage, especially before the kids were born, she would often convince the reluctant Alex to take her to some of the most seedy adult video arcades, bookshops and porn theaters. At first she would pretend that she didn’t understand what went on it these places and acted surprised by both the on-and-off-screen sexual action that surrounded them.
But Zaliva was a complete slut, from her early age she had secretly hankered for large thick cocks to fill her cunt, ass and mouth . . . fucking huge black cocks that could fuck her full of nigger cum! Alex had been sexually timid, not wanting others to see his small penis and little balls . . . Zaliva, on the other hand wanted nothing more than to humiliate him sexually, making blow his load prematurely over her pretty face, whilst enjoyed the attention she got from other men and kinky couples that looked on as see paraded herself in front of them.
She often masturbated with large dildos and vegetables in front of him, telling him how good it felt . . . only allowing her husband to use her anus infrequently . . . and, instead she would insist that he watch her without any form of self-pleasuring . . . she got off on making him beg for every little token of her affection. She would only give him permission to ejaculate, at most, once a week . . . and that was ONLY on her specific instruction. For hours she would watch porn, whilst he dutifully performed cunnilingus and analingus on her . . . and though initially it was vanilla porn, this quickly changed to bi-sex, transsexual, BDSM, bestiality, scat and her favorite . . . water-sports.
She hungered for younger and younger models, both male and female, and graduated to underground sources that provided her with movies that focused on pedophilia, incest, and other darker, more non-consensual femdom themes.
About a year into their so-called marriage, Zaliva discovered an unhealthy interest in the occult . . . especially the sexual connotations of devil worship . . . her fantasies of Black Masses with perverse blasphemous sex between disciples of the demon gods . . . phallic Baphomets, succubae and incubi turned her on intensely.
She fantasized about rape and human sacrifice . . . even sexual cannibalism. She acquired many black phallic candles, inverted pentagrams, large phallic crucifixes, other religious icons and a library of the satanic literature. While her husband went to work, she played out our sacrilegious rituals and videotaped herself masturbating with her crucifixes to share them with others online. She quickly made friends with those who shared similar fantasies and made daytime plans to meet up with other bored housewives to further their blasphemous interests.
Out of these she met discretely, was a woman named Ivy Eiceart, a tall pale white Celtic woman who claimed to be an authentic Welsh witch, that had access to real Black Magic . . . this of course spurred Zaliva onwards. She wanted to find out more and the two became close but secret acquaintances, sharing their extreme sexual tastes as well selected spells, incantations and rituals that were to supposedly bring great wealth, power and sexual gratification.
With Ivy’s guidance, Zaliva, who envisioned herself as evil enchantress, became adept at the so-called ‘Black Arts’ . . . she used these strange powers to influence the outcomes of her husband business affairs . . . or so she thought. It might have been just coincidence, but the success that followed was unprecedented.
Zaliva’s wishes came true . . . including her incestuous ones, as she gave birth to two beautiful babies. And with wealth also came drugs . . . lots of drugs. Ivy and Zaliva, remained secret lovers and their sexual activities often included Zaliva’s babies, from a very early age, in their perverted love play.
They were very content with molesting them, removing their nappies at playtime and sharing the young one’s piss and shit . . . they stopped short of actual penetration or doing them any permanent harm . . . instead they content to corrupt them and coerce them both into becoming active participants in their nasty games, as they continued to grow up.
Ivy shared her fantasies that one day Zaliva would be free from her hapless husband, so that they could both travel together and share the delights found in places where life was cheap and expendable, and for the right price, they could share their murderous dreams of child rape without limits.
Zaliva’s husband became an overnight success; and this had continued year after year. Their wealth and power accumulated . . . he was always in demand and was never home, working long shifts and soon they were rich beyond their dreams. The girls were now pre-teens and they willing participated in their mother’s sexual activities with Ivy and the other ‘witches’ of their coven that were becoming increasingly bizarre and often violent. But that was only the half of the story.
Zaliva craved more than just the monetary success of her husband. When they had more than they could ever use, she became frustrated with being married in him – her sexual dominance and meupareunia over her husband continued until Ivy encouraged her to have her husband killed in what would appear to be a freakish accident overseas. She would have the perfect alibi and there would be no come back on her . . . only, she’d then be free to do anything she wanted with her wimp of a husband gone. He had served his purpose.
It was about the time they moved into their new luxurious apartment on Fifth Avenue that had uninterrupted views of Central Park. It was considered as one of New York’s most elegant and coveted addresses. Built during the mid-1920s, the limestone Italian Renaissance building, designed by George B. Post & Sons, many historians had described it as one of most beautiful examples of apartment buildings in Manhattan.
She’d made some special changes to the apartment that her husband was unaware of, providing her with a number of secret rooms dedicated to sexual acts, equipped for bondage and BDSM . . . with a ready supply of braces, chastity belts, leg spenders, chains, crops, paddles, bull whips, floggers and canes, butt plugs, restraints, strap-ons, leashes, ball gags, gauntlets, blindfolds and much, much more.
The plan was very simple. Ivy and Zaliva, made all the preparations around Alex’s trip to the western Mexican destination of Acapulco, for a plastic surgeons symposium, where Alex was one of the keynote speakers. Zaliva would join him for a couple of days prior to the conference. They would even make love (as she imagined castrating him, slitting his throat and drinking his blood).
She would return to New York, to attend some very public charity event. It would look like a botched up robbery. He would be killed while Zaliva was attending the charity ball with two thousand witnesses that placed her there at his time of death. Everything went to plan and his body was found the morning after badly mutilated . . . his genitals had been sadistically removed.
Of course there was an investigation. Homicide Detective, Arthur Gannon, a rather outwardly clumsy and inarticulate man, was in charge. He had been sent to Mexico to collaborate with the local law enforcement agencies, but had followed up back in New York. To him, the idea of robbery was all too neat and tidy, but without a suspect, murder weapon or a motive, he was forced to shelf the investigation indefinitely. He did however, look carefully into the affairs of the Ivkins and their associates, interviewing some discretely, but that was all but a dead-end . . . except for a strange hunch.
After the public out-showing of grief at the funeral, under the shroud of secrecy, the witches met and celebrated with a Black Mass orgy where Zaliva, dressed as the high priestess wore her husband’s genitalia as a necklace to appease the demons she, Ivy and the other black widows of the coven had prayed too for his death.
ZALIVA & HER EVIL DAUGHTERS – CHAPTER 2 (2,793WORDS)
It was Wednesday, 9th July 2010. Ms. Angela was the domestic help. A single mother of two boys, Nathan aged ten and Anthony aged nine, she had worked for the Ivkin’s for a few years. She knocked hesitantly on Zaliva’s bedroom door. She waited outside patiently. There was no answer. As she entered, she could see the room was in complete disarray again. The Mistress, as she was instructed to call her, was out for the morning, but Ms. Angela, the Irish-Catholic maid, knew her duties and was always cautious around her employer. Her two young boys were away at boarding school, but would be back in two days, so she wanted to get ahead of her chores, so that she may ask for some time off with them.
The bedroom, as usual stunk of sex and other disgusting odors. Ms. Angela was also used to turning a blind eye to the awful and offensive things that she frequently encountered working for the Mistress and these seemed to have got much worse since the passing of poor Mr. Ivkin. Shame, he was such a nice man, always so polite to her and her boys . . . not like the repulsive Mistress, always sinfully half naked . . . the shameful unchristian things she said and did . . . absolutely shocking!
Still, despite her obvious distaste, Ms. Angela always felt an undeniable thrill that she was deeply ashamed of . . . for sometimes, very infrequently . . . her curiosity got the better of her. Today, felt like one of those times. She had waited for everyone to leave the apartment before attending to the regular chore of cleaning the master bedroom – knowing she would be alone for almost half a day. She made the sign of the cross.
The red satin bed sheets were tossed together and looked soaked in something foul. She touched the wetness of the mattress and brought her fingers to her nose. Yes it stunk of freshly made urine. Lucky she always covered the mattresses with a plastic-liner. She could even see that the liquid had pooled in the center of the bed. How ghastly. There were a number of black latex sex toys, vibrators, dildos of various sizes and girths, a strap-on, anal beads and a butt plug, scattered around the bedroom floor. Usually Ms. Angela would simply gather them up with her heavy-duty kitchen gloves and laundry bucket, wash them thoroughly in warm soapy water and put them away in the ‘toy drawer’.
But today she had not brought them with her. Of course they were where she always kept them in the kitchen draw. She was very purposeful about things like that. With her small freckled fingers she carefully picked up the soiled vibrator, touching it pensively with her bare hands. It was slimy to touch. She brought the disgusting object to her nose. The Mistress. She knew her vaginal smell. Revolted but excited she licked its length. Unclean. Unchristian. Yes, the Mistress tasted tangy. Mmmmm.
Her hand snaked beneath her black maid dress reaching inside her stockings and pants . . . her little pink button was already erect. She looked at herself in the fully mirrored walls as she sucked the tip of the fake penis in her mouth. She looked unhealthily pale and weak. What would it be like to be the powerful Mistress? So strong, so dominant, so sexual. Her heart raced with unchristian thoughts. Unholy. She turned the control on the vibrator so that it purred with a soft continuous hum.
She placed it against the outside of her uniform, so that vibrated directly against her chest. Mmmmm. The tiny nipples of her saggy breasts hardened immediately. Holy Jesus, what am I doing! She dropped the vibrator onto the thick-carpeted floor. It buzzed loudly. Filthy dirty things! She picked up the butt plug and anal beads. They too seemed slimy from recent use. Holding them in her hands she sat carefully down over the buzzing length of the vibrator, so that she could feel its pleasurable sensation through her black tights along the entire length of her perineum. Mmmmmm.
It felt wrong, but Ms. Angela did not stop, she moved back and forth against it. She looked again at her reflection as she frotted against the buzzing phallus. Her reflection looked detached . . . seemly enjoying this ungodly and inappropriate thing . . . without another thought, she popped the anal beads into her mouth and sucked upon them. She could taste the bitterness. Gross. Disgusting. Vile. Mmmmm. She stopped suddenly. Momentarily ashamed . . . the embarrassment of being caught in such a compromising position. She needed her job. God! She needed the money. No. No. No. Mmmmm. Everybody was out.
She got up and undressed completely, folding her maid uniform carefully over the back of the dressing table chair, so that her uniform would not be creased or soiled. She was naked in the Mistresses bedroom. Again she looked at her waifish white body as she played with her loose saggy breasts and fingered her hairy ginger cunt. Oh My God! She felt very turned on. She touched the damp bedclothes. Piss wet. She laid face down upon them. She could smell the strong scent of urea. She pressed her mouth against the wet sheets, where the yellow liquid had pooled, trying to suck the moisture from them as she masturbated herself.
A noise. Oh, nothing. My imagination. She noticed the DVD player was blinking. What were they watching early this morning, the Mistress and her filthy children? Just still children, but both so sinful and so wicked, despite their age. They knew things that children should not. Oh, but what sexy little treasures they were! Mmmmmm. She remembered the first time she’d collected the children’s dirty laundry.
The underwear had been shockingly too sexy for pre-teens. She’d cum so hard sucking those dirty foul undies . . . lapping at the shit stains in the sheer fabric. Mmmmm. She sat up and grabbed the remote controller from the bedside table and pressed the volume down low . . . then pressed play. Ms. Angela’s jaw dropped. It was the young girls themselves, dressed like complete harlots with bright red lipstick, thick mascara and attitude.
They were dressed identically in thigh-high boots with pointed stiletto heals and leather-studded dog collars . . . their slender, athletic bodies shone with body oil as they strutted up and down to instructions off-camera . . . the voice of their mother, the Mistress, Zaliva. Ms. Angela stared as they ground their naked torsos together, gyrating and groaning lewdly as their own mother screamed vulgarities and blasphemous words that left Ms. Angela breathless with excitement. Her fingers moved faster and faster as the two young girls exchanged tongue kisses as they continued their unabated incestuous frottage.
Suddenly without warning the bedroom opened. Ms. Angela yelped in surprise, covering herself with the piss-wet sheets of the unmade bed.
“What in HELL are you doing?” It was Zaliva. She looked both puzzled and angry. “Is this what you do when my back is turned?”
“I . . . sorry Mistress . . . I was . . . I mean . . . oh god!” The gravity of the situation finally dawned on her. Caught red-handed. Naked and masturbating in her employer’s bed, whilst watching a video of her Mistresses daughter’s commit the sin of incest . . . oh Almighty God . . . please help me! Zaliva coolly closed the door. Ms. Angela could hear the girls on the other side of the door. Zaliva opened the edge of the door and said something that Ms. Angela could not hear, and then she closed and locked the bedroom door.
“Sorry Mistress . . . it’ll never happen again . . .” Blabbered Ms. Angela as Zaliva approached her. Zaliva calmly recovered the remote control and turned off the television monitor. The screen went to black. Zaliva’s eyes never left Ms. Angela’s.
“I should dismiss you for this – a gross violation of my privacy. I trusted you Ms. Angela. I have paid you well. More than well. Looked after you and your boys. Even after Alex died. I trusted you and this is how you repay me?”
Zaliva looked at the pathetic maid, trying to conceal her unattractive pale body by pulling the urine-soaked sheet around her. Zaliva’s mind considered what to do. This behavior could not go unpunished.
“Do you want to keep your job?”
Ms. Angela was perplexed. She was surely dismissed without pay, probably black-banned from ever working with any household ever again. She would be destitute – with no way to support her two boys.
“DO YOU WANT YOUR FUCKING JOB? I will not ask again!”
“YES MISTRESS! Please! Yes. I’ll do anything!” Pleaded Ms. Angela, her pride gone; she allowed the dirty sheet to fall as her head hung in deep shame. Zaliva undressed in a flash, only leaving on her tall stiletto heals. She grabbed something black and studded from the ‘toy draw’ and before Ms. Angela knew what was happening, Zaliva had placed the dog collar attached to a leash around her freckled neck.
“Come with me.”
Ms. Angela blinked. She didn’t understand.
“COME WITH ME YOU FUCKING DEAF CUNT!”
Ms. Angela gasped as Zaliva pulled cruelly against the leash. Ms. Angela stumbled. Zaliva laughed and dragged Ms. Angela from the bed onto the floor. She yanked the chain several times, letting her slave know that she was to crawl upon the ground.
She drew Ms. Angela closer to her. “Lick my cunt you filthy old slut.” Ms. Angela felt the spite and humiliation in her Mistress’s voice. She lifted her head and began licking Zaliva’s shaved vulva. Zaliva laughed and spat on her face. “Suck my clit. Make me cum.” Ms. Angela did as she was told. “Oh FUCK you old SLUT! You’re not bad . . . oh! FUCK! HARDER! SUCK IT YOU CLIT! OH! OH! FUCKER! AAAGGGGHHH . . .” She moaned lewdly. Maybe it was the adrenaline, but Zaliva felt hot . . . it was turning her on more than she liked to admit.
Zaliva pulled away and looked scornfully at the naked maid still on her hands and knees before her. She picked up the long black latex strap-on and stepped into the harness.
“Like a FUCKING DOG!” Cried Zaliva as dragged her from the bedroom into the hallway. Zaliva stopped in front of one of the many similar wall panels that lined the upper landing. Ms. Angela could not see what she did, but all of a sudden a spring loaded panel door opened. Zaliva dragged Ms. Angela inside; she tried to move at the same speed as her Mistress, to lessen the chocking sensation of the tight dog collar around her throat but struggled to keep up. In all the time she had worked with the Ivkin family, she never knew such rooms existed.
The decor reminded her of something medieval – something evil and unsavory. God help me. What have I got myself into? One side of the room that looked about the size of a double garage was completely covered with mirrors and without turning her head, she could clearly see her Mistresses secret toys that she and those other perverted witches must use. Her head cried out for escape, but her pussy seemed to throb with a new expectation . . . the acerbic taste of the Mistress’s juices still in her mouth.
“You’re nothing but an ungrateful CUNT!” Zaliva bemoaned as she pulled Ms. Angela’s weightless little body off her knees and pushed her arms back against something cold, hard and metallic. She felt her wrists and ankles fastened firmly against the icy cold framework that held her spread-eagled
The panel door opened again and the two young girls stood dressed as they were in the video. Harlots. Whores. Incestuous perverts. Like the devil’s succubae, each of them carried a short horse-riding crop that had a thick leather tongue at the tip of its twelve-inch flexible shaft. They swished the crops in the air and laughed.
“You will do anything? Isn’t that what you said you FUCKING PIECE OF SHIT? Well, that’s absolutely right . . . because if you don’t, you will never work in this town or any town ever again . . . do you hear me . . . you’re nothing but a worthless FUCKING SLAVE WHORE . . . say it SLAVE!”
“I . . . I’m nothing . . . [sob] . . . but a worthless . . .”
“SAY IT YOU UGLY OLD CUNT!” Screamed the Mistress as she slapped the maid hard across the face. Her face stung like hell. She wanted to scream for help, but thought again of the consequences.
“I . . . [sob] . . . I’m nothing but a worthless fucking slave whore . . .” She sounded dejected, as if she had reached rock bottom. No ego. No self-esteem . . . she felt hollow like the sex slave she had always secretly dreamed about. Mmmmmm. Help me Jesus, what have I done? Help me. I am so horny. Help me save my boys!
Zaliva held her chin between her thumb and forefinger, pulling her face upwards, so that they looked at each other eye-to-eye. Ms. Angela froze. Mistress Zaliva spat in her face again . . . her spittle dripped from Ms. Angela’s nose and chin. She felt the tip of the black strap-on press between her legs. It felt obscene with its huge phallic appendage sticking out at 45 degrees, banana-curling upward against her when she had nowhere to run. Dina had brought out the video camera and each of the girls positioning themselves either side of their mother, so that they could touch the maid in her most private and full-exposed parts. Ms. Angela was shell-shocked. Wet. No. I’m so wet and horny.
“Dance with me Ms. Angela. Move your FUCKING HIPS back and forth . . . FUCK MY BIG NIGGER COCK!” Ms. Angela was sobbing but complied as Zaliva guided the dildo to penetrate her as Ms. Angela managed only meager forward thrusts. “HARDER . . . HARDER! HARDER! That’s it BITCH! FUCK the NIGGER COCK for your MISTRESS . . . FUCK it HARDER! Tell me what you are doing . . . TELL ME!”
“I . . . I am . . . [sob] . . . fucking . . . [sob] the nigger cock for you . . . [sob] . . . Mistress”
“LOUDER!! I CAN’T HEAR YOUR COCK-SUCKING MOUTH!”
“I . . . [sob] . . . am FUCKING the NIGGER COCK for you . . . [sob] . . . MISTRESS!”
“Vera my love. I don’t think Ms. Angela is doing it hard enough . . . look how frustrated I am. My clit can’t feel a thing! She needs to FUCK the NIGGER COCK HARDER . . . Please darling . . . give Ms. Angela some help.”
“Yes Mommy!” Answered Vera excitedly as she drew back her arm to bring the horsewhip down onto Ms. Angela’s saggy white ass as it hung out of the rear of the metal frame.
“Arrraghhhhhh!” Screamed Ms. Angela. The borderline between pain and pleasure became blurred as she renewed her efforts to fuck the black latex cock.
Dina moved around the metal frame to videotape them fucking from various angles and masturbating herself at the same time. Every time Ms. Angela slowed up the pace, Vera whipped her harder, leaving glowing red marks that crisscrossed her tender white bottom. Yelps from the maid were followed by moans of pleasure from the Mistress.
“That’s better my FUCK SLUT! FUCK THE DEVIL’S COCK as you PRAY TO HIM!” Moaned Zaliva. “I wanna hear you pray SLUT . . . Lucifere Excelsis!”
Ms. Angela’s efforts of impaling herself upon the long ribbed length of the latex cock seemed to suddenly become darkly inspired. Such sinfulness. Such blasphemy. Such sacrilege. Oh YES! Fucking the obscene phallus . . . whilst praying to the Devil himself!
“Lucifere Excelsis,” murmured Ms. Angela. Even here voice resounded an illicit thrill, “Lucifere Excelsis! Lucifere Excelsis! Lucifere Excelsis! Lucifere Excelsis! Aaagghhhhhhh . . .”
The pre-teens swapped places as their mother continued to pound the strap-on furiously into her slave’s cunt. “And when we are done with you Ms. Angela . . . you had better be prepared to share your lovely little effeminate sons with us and my demonic coven . . . do we have an understanding?”
ZALIVA & HER EVIL DAUGHTERS – CHAPTER 3 (2,633 WORDS)
It was now Friday, 25th June 2010; almost a month before the Grand Climax. The two young girls jumped from the rear of the large black limousine that had chauffeured them from the school. Vera lead the way to the Ivkin’s private lift, that would take them upstairs from the car garage to her mother’s luxury apartment. Her pretty little school friend, Samantha Simpson, had come with her straight after school for a sleepover at the Ivkin’s place. Her father, Governor Ronald Simpson, would arrange a pick-up on the following Monday morning on the 28th.
Two nights of uninterrupted pleasure . . . thought Vera . . . she had been looked forward to having her friend stay ever since her mother had suggested the week prior at her birthday party. Vera knew Samantha was naïve and very innocent when it came to boys and sex. Her mother hoped her to be a virgin. In fact, her sweetness and purity is what had attracted Vera to her in the first place. Vera was, of course, quite the opposite.
Growing up in the Ivkin house had exposed her to more sexual experiences at the age of eleven, than most had had in their lifetime. Thinking about her perverted seduction of Samantha over the next few days and nights, got her very wet and excited. She had to try hard not to get too carried away . . . too soon.
Zaliva lounged across the wide daybed dressed in beautiful white embroidered sari – the material of which was so sheer that it was possible to see her tall and athletic body beneath. Zaliva eyed the two girls as they both approached her.
“Mommy . . . mommy . . . you remember Sam? Samantha Simpson from my school?” Asked Vera excited to let her mother know that they had arrived.
Zaliva looked at her daughter’s friend, dressed in her cute school uniform, white blouse, red jacket, pleated red plaid skirt and white frilled bobby socks. As Zaliva was undressing her with her eyes, she noted that Samantha looked uncomfortable with her school friend’s mother’s semi-nudity. Her erect nipples stood out from her pendulous C-cup size breasts that pressed against the gossamer thin sari and she knew that if she opened her legs, that the young girl would be able to see her completely shaved vagina and pierced labia.
“Yes, of course I remember young Samantha. So glad you could come darling,” replied Zaliva opening her legs.
“I love your new outfit mommy,” said Vera.
“Oh, I am so glad, because . . . I got you both one too.”
Vera stepped forward and kissed her mother on the lips . . . a slightly lingering kiss that was ambiguous in its intent. Zaliva pointed to the boxes on the couch and Vera gave a little squeal of excitement.
“Of course. Now get changed and give me a naughty fashion parade.”
Vera grabbed Samantha hand and dragged her to couch.
“Come on let’s get changed!” She said excitedly to her apprehensive young friend. Samantha looked hesitantly back at Zaliva and then quickly returned her attention to her friend who was stripping naked in front of her.
“Come on, let’s change!”
“What . . . here . . . in front of your mom?” Asked Sam.
“Yer . . . we’re all girls here!” Laughed Vera as if it was all perfectly innocent and natural.
“I . . .” Sam was about to object.
“Come on, look how beautiful it looks,” said Vera, holding the sheer netted sari up against her own naked body.
It was obvious that Samantha really felt uneasy, but she did not want to appear prudish or stupid in front of her new best friend or her mom. She began to undress awkwardly.
Zaliva subconsciously licked her lips as she watched carefully. The desire to touch herself through the soft fabric was almost irresistible as Vera’s small friend stripped completely naked, like Vera, who seemed to be in no hurry to dress or conceal herself in any way – in fact it was quite the opposite, Vera seemed very comfortable naked in front of her mother.
Mother and daughter shared a quick predatory smile . . . all too soon this young girl’s innocence would be taken . . . it was just a matter of time. Zaliva had taken a fancy to this child from the time of her daughter’s birthday party. Now, looking at her flawless and smooth skin; her straight hair that reached down below her shoulder blades; her slim-hipped boyish frame; and finally her elfin face, slender, and delicate, with a pointed chin . . . a dream slave for her perverted harem.
Now in her sari, Vera offered to help Sam . . . her practiced hands casually brushing against the tiny pointed cones of her friend’s underdeveloped chest; and lingered between her legs and seemingly innocently pressed against her hairless vulva, as she helped to adjust the obscenely transparent outfit.
“There . . . you both look so beautiful Sam. Don’t you think Dina?”
Samantha flushed in sudden self-consciousness realizing that it was Vera’s older sister that was now sitting next to her mother. Dina was dressed just as they were as she sat with her leg throw over her mothers, as Zaliva openly caressed her daughter’s inner thigh.
“They look delicious mommy.” Hissed Dina.
“Yes my dear they certainly do. Fetch the video camera.” Turning her attention back to Vera and Sam, who were now giggling at each other, as Vera goofed around . . . Sam looked somewhat less concerned as she did, taking everything as just innocent fun, despite her discomfort with being seen nearly naked by others – not even her parents had seen her this uncovered in years. Dina arrived back with the camera.
“Why don’t you three girls give me a fashion parade? Pretend you’re Heidi Klum, Laetitia Casta or Gisele Bundchen on the Victoria Secrets catwalk. Show me how beautiful you are in your matching saris. Struck your stuff for the video camera.”
Zaliva put on some mood music, matching the Indian saris, the strange ethnic music had a strong but slow tribal beat. The two sisters began to gyrate. They both pumped their skinny little hips and tiny bubble butts slowly back and forth without a care. Sam smiled uneasily and tried her best to emulate their sensual movements. Encouraged by the other girls and by their mother’s cries of support, Sam soon lost herself in their sexy fun.
Dina danced directly behind Sam, their flesh separated only by the thinness of their saris. Dina firmly held Sam’s boyish hips, drawing the two them even closer together as they laughed and moved provocatively to the strange music. Dina pressed herself harder and harder against Sam; her mouth hovered over the girl’s moist slender neck.
Vera too, seeing her sister’s boldness, turned to face her young friend, sandwiching Sam between the two of them . . . her stringy athletic thighs were pressing directly against Sam’s through the wafer-thin material. Vera placed her hands on Sam’s waist and began to thrust and grind against her with greater urgency as she lent forward until their faces were only half an inch apart.
Zaliva had laid some white lines, and both Dina and Vera snorted the white crystalline powder. Their eyes immediately dilated and their breathing became deeper. Zaliva asked Samantha to try.
“Come on Sam . . . it’s just girly fun . . . no one else will ever know!” Encouraged Dina. Sam followed their example; coughing and spluttering at first . . . then with a few minutes a euphoric tidal wave seemed to propel her back into more energetic movements with her two erotic dance partners.
“That’s a great shot girls . . . more like that . . . get closer . . . mmmmm . . . that’s it Vera . . . now kiss her . . . kiss your best friend . . . do it for the camera,” taunted Zaliva. Her cunt was aching to be touched.
Vera butterfly kissed Samantha’s mouth. Lips-to-lips. They both made a pretend ‘smacking sounds’ as they giggled for the camera. Vera did it again and again . . . each time firmer, more pressing, more obviously a sexual kiss . . . the entire time keeping Samantha’s upper thigh pressed firmly against the heat of her vagina. She noticed Sam’s lower warmth, almost equal to her own and as she slipped her palm between them, so that her fingers pressed directly against her moist mons. Vera turned to her mother and mouthed the word ‘virgin’ and then continued her massage. Samantha let out an almost imperceptible moan.
Zaliva grinned to herself . . . the Lord provides. “More sexy tongue kissing,” encouraged the movie director from behind the video camera.
Vera pressed her mouth against Samantha, but this time she pushed the tip of her tongue between Sam’s quivering lips. Sam lips parted ever so slightly, then further apart, accepting her friends tongue into her mouth . . . now the three of them kissed with open mouths, their tongues flickering back and forth with great fervor. Samantha seemed in a drug-fueled daze . . . first kissing one sister and then the other . . . she seemed unaware of her surrounding as Vera pressed her moist vagina directly against Sam’s grinding their tiny clits together. Dina’s hands rose higher until they were groping both of Sam’s tiny cones of breasts.
Zaliva masturbated furiously through the delicate fabric as she continued to video the under-aged seduction from every angle she could – her thoughts raced to the ritual of the Revelry, a delicious virgin sacrifice!
“I think its time to take the fashion parade to the Succubus Suite . . . we can bathe our virgin offering as your mother’s bladder is almost bursting and with all the vitamins I’ve taken today, I know its going to be . . . golden rain!”
Dina and Vera, took the initiative, as Sam was still floating on her cocaine high . . . they all stripped down and escorted their new lover to the Succubus Suite – this was also one of Zaliva’s hidden rooms. Its distinctive black decor, black thick carpet and three mirrored walls was a wash of candlelight from the hundreds of half melted black candles in candelabras that dripped with molten wax. Above the four-poster bed was an imposing painting of black-skinned demon with sinister leer upon its face, naked and androgynous with both the sexual organs of a well-endowed man and woman.
Zaliva’s daughters kissed and fondled Samantha as they led her to the bed that was covered with black satin sheet . . . as they laid her spread-eagled across the center of the bed, as Dina and Vera showered her with wet kisses across her tiny little breasts. Samantha wriggled with overcharged sexual energy. Vera kissed her way up her neck until she was kissing Samantha’s mouth, while her sister kissed her way down across her stomach and then between Samantha’s legs. The suite was fitted with several cameras fitted with motion detectors and began capturing the action on the bed as Zaliva selected her favorite death-metal tracks to fuck and suck to.
The dark lyrics of the satanic music rang out from the hidden speakers . . .
Hell on fire, lust, desire
The devil wants to stick you,
yeah, the devil wants to lick you
Wants your body, he wants your spirit
He comes to you at night, he wants to take a bite!
Samantha was already close to the throws of her first powerful orgasm as they bound her wrists and ankles with soft black ribbon. The sisters were relentless. Dina’s mouth covered Sam’s erect clit, sucking and biting at it, as her hips bucked upwards from the bed sheets, whilst Vera crawled across her chest and lowered herself over her friend’s face, rubbing her hot, wet pussy directly over Samantha’s mouth . . . her tongue lapped eagerly at her greasy gash.
Naked, twisting, bodies sweating
You can’t escape his hunger, screams like thunder
Prince of Darkness, Prince of Evil
Spread your legs and scream, no this is not a dream!
“Prince of Darkness, Prince of Evil!” Sang Zaliva, watching her daughters. Vera slid herself back down and kissed Samantha again, this time she could taste herself all over the girl’s face. Their mouths mashed together with new zeal and perverted passion.
Sex with Satan, excommunication
Degradation, humiliation, thrusting, shoving, animals humping
Lusting loudly, snorting, panting
He’s like a dog in heat, you’re just another piece of meat
“Sex with Satan!” Sang Vera over and over into her friend’s ear . . . “Sex with Satan!” – until her lips mimicked the words herself. “That’s it, sing it out loud . . . Sex with Satan!” Encouraged Vera.
“Sex with Satan!” Moaned Samantha deliriously.
“Curse god with me. Fuck Christ. Holy Cunt! Fuck Jesus . . . say it!”
“FUCK CHRIST. HOLY CUNT! FUCK JESUS! Aaarrrrghhhhh . . .,” screamed Samantha as Dina’s oral pleasuring took her over the top.
Cursed hell-hound, craving demon
He fills you with pain and now you’re bloody and stained
Hurt and beaten, ohhh, shamed and weakened
He will possess you, he will molest you
Now they all stood up on the bedding looking over her, Zaliva in the center and the two sisters flanking her as they aimed their urethras between the first to forefingers of their right hands.
“In nominee de nostre Satanas: Lucifere Excelsis! Introibo ad alatare Satanas. Ad Satanas qui laetificat gloria meam.” Chanted Zaliva.
“Lucifere Excelsis!” responded her daughters.
They all began to pissing dark yellow urine over the virgin, spraying it over her, laughing as they drenched Samantha from head to foot in their hot salty rain. Samantha seemed deliriously high squirming in the wetness as their combined pee pooled around her body in the center of the bed. A strong heady smell of urea filled the bedchamber. As the piss flow from the two young sister’s slowly tapered out, Zaliva directed her still strong flow over the virgin’s face and hair, aiming her pee directly into Samantha’s open mouth, making sure she drank as much of her tangy piss stream as she could.
“Hurt and beaten, ohhh, shamed and weakened. He will possess you, he will molest you.” Sang Zaliva and the two girls, furiously masturbated, as they all descended upon her sucking and licking at Samantha’s piss-drenched body. Kneeling in their own piss, the girl’s scooped handfuls of their urine, drinking it and bathed themselves and their virgin offering as their mother crouched over Samantha’s upturned face. Another vulgar smell emitted from her body, as Zaliva began to open her bowels . . . her anal opening expanded, pushed apart from within, as dark fetal matter began to poke outwards.
“Manducare convivium satanas!” cried Zaliva, as her long black-brown turd pushed slowly outwards, hanging obscenely, poised above the girl’s chest. They all breathed in the dank aroma of human excrement as if one was appreciating a mist of a fine perfume.
“Prince of Darkness, Prince of Evil,” sang the two pre-teens as they jointly masturbated their tiny little piss-soaked friend.
Tensing her anal muscles, Zaliva’s waste fell unto the girl’s chest as it rose and fell in perverted excitement. Samantha began to gag at the strength of the putrid smell of fresh shit. Zaliva quickly lowered herself onto Samantha’s chest, mashing her soft excrement between her own backside and the bound girls torso. Zaliva dragged herself across the girl’s neck and shoulders, extending the stinking mess down the pre-teen’s torso to her stomach. Lifting herself again, Zaliva admired her handiwork, as the virgin continued to gag violently as her daughters began to lick and suck at their mother’s filthy shit-caked asshole.
ZALIVA & HER EVIL DAUGHTERS – CHAPTER 4 (2,623 WORDS)
It was Friday, 11th July 2010 and Zaliva had given Ms. Angela strict instructions concerning the arrival of her boys. Upon their return to the Ivkin apartment, they were to be given perfumed baths and their all their male clothing discarded. For the duration, they were given specific outfits that Zaliva found arousing and were to be given female names. At first this was going to be somewhat unsettling for them, but the nudity of Zaliva’s own children, would stir their interest and compliance to the Mistress’s games. Just as she predicted, at first the boys, now named Natalie and Toni, rebuffed their mother’s requests, but seeing Dina and Vera naked in the Jacuzzi quickly changed their minds – even the nine year old was wooded before jumping into the perfumed waters. Ms. Angela did her part more eagerly than Zaliva had expected – her maid was quickly becoming a very willing participant in the seduction and feminization of her own two young boys . . . her acceptance of Satan had been another unexpected surprise. Zaliva suspected it to be an act, but would keep a watchful eye on her ugly little maid.
Natalie and Toni sat in the bubbling Jacuzzi opposite Dina and Vera. Dina was the first to make a move; she slid silently between the two effeminate boys, her hands wrapped around their erections beneath the waterline.
“You like this?” She asked slyly. They both nodded. She moved her hand up and down, masturbating them both slowly, teasingly. “Mommy thinks you’re both girls . . . that’s why we’re all allowed to bathe together . . . isn’t that cool?” Her hands continued to masturbate them both as she span her fable. Vera stood up above the waterline and the boys starred at her naked body as she touched herself in front of them. The boys looked on in complete shock. Both of then began to buck again Dina’s palms as she stroked them more vigorously. “Isn’t it fun being a little sexy girl?” Again they both nodded and groaned at Dina expert touch . . . Vera grinned sardonically as her little water dance became more lewd, spurred on by her captive audience . . . “Why don’t us girls, do some girlie things together . . . like kissing . . . you’d like to do that? Mommy must never know that you’re not girls, or else our fun might stop? Can you pretend to be girls for my sister and I?” Asked Dina, without taking her hand from their little penises.
“Yer Dina . . . [moan] . . . we could . . . [groan] . . . but won’t your mom find out?” Asked Nathan (Natalie).
“No, not as long as you do exactly as we tell you. Kiss me Natalie.”
Dina kissed Natalie on the mouth while Toni watched. Dina’s hand continued to slide up and down is little cock relentlessly. Vera moved next to Toni and took over from Dina, rubbing his little cocklet as she too began kissing the boy-girl. Dina looked across Natalie’s shoulder at Vera who was viciously plugging her new girlfriend with her expert tongue. The real girls encouraged Natalie and Toni, to now sit on the edge of the Jacuzzi, and knelt up and began to suck their eager cocks.
“You like . . . girly kissing?” Asked Dina. They both nodded. Dina jumped out of the water and grabbed a towel. “Let’s do more kissing in bed,” she responded enthusiastically. The boy-girls looked at each other. “Yes, we girls all sleep naked together too.”
Ms. Angela knelt besides her Mistress, who stood behind the two-way mirror that looked into her daughter’s boudoir. The four naked children had formed a loose circle on the huge bed. Each of Ms. Angela’s sons had their heads buried between Zaliva’s daughters’ legs, as they in turn fellated the boys – alternating girl, boy, girl and boy. The microphone captured and amplified their collective sucking, licking and groans of pleasure.
“By tomorrow, they must be ready. My coven is expecting some entertainment. And entertainment, is what they will get!”
Ms. Angela hung her head and tried to look away. Ashamed of herself and what she had done . . . agreeing to this perverted madness was unthinkable as a mother. Her cunt twitched eagerly, but she still refused to touch herself . . . though she longed to watch.
“Don’t look away. DON’T YOU FUCK DARE! I WANT YOU TO WATCH and LEARN . . . they are nothing but FUCKING PIECES OF MEAT . . . GOT IT?”
“NO, don’t think you have. Look at you, you shameless SLUT . . . shave that sick ginger cunt of yours . . . I want to see it slick and wet . . . finger yourself, while we watch your puny little sons become girl whores for my entertainment.”
The girls had now moved to the next phase of their little game, as they now encouraged the two brothers to perform oral sex on each other. The older boy, Nathan, lay on his back, while his younger brother lay in the opposite direction, so that were able to suck each other . . . for the girls’ delight.
Ms. Angela of course did exactly as her Mistress ordered. Her fingers moved in and out and a steady pace, her reluctance and resistance obviously conflicted with the pleasure she desired. It was the permission she sort, somehow her Mistress’ orders over road her motherly instincts of protection and decency. She leered openly at her son’s now performing incestuously before her.
The girls had also donned strap-ons and their intent to arse-fuck them was obvious to their mother, Ms. Angela. Good God! Oh merciful God! What have I done? She saw them enjoying the buggering. They danced on the dildos like little two little whores. The white powder inflamed their nostrils . . . their brains embroiled in sexual craziness, as they willing subjected themselves to every perversion that the two evil little sisters had planned.
It was about 11.00 am on the morning of Thursday, 28th July, the day after eventful Revelry . . . the proverbial calm after the storm. The Governor’s gleaming Rolls Royce was parked in the driveway. Zaliva, dressed in a conservative Paul Smith wool stretch dress, stood passively next to her youngest daughter, Vera and the Governor’s now deflowered daughter, Samantha. Zaliva smiled at the Governor. Of course, Ivy, through simple hypnosis, had seen to it that young Samantha would only recall what happened upon the command phrase ‘Corpus Satanas’ (body of Satan). Upon this command phase, Zaliva, would enable her to use the girl for her own sexual gratification as and when she wanted.
“Thank you Ms. Ivkin. My daughter speaks highly of you and your daughters. She always loves to stay with you . . . it’s so difficult to find suitable friends for young Samantha,” gushed the Governor Simpson, his eyes flashed across Zaliva firm, shapely but conservative concealed breasts. She had been a supporter of his last campaign and now a part of his trusted circle.
“Governor, the pleasure is all ours.”
“Please, Ms. Ivkin, you must call me Ronald.”
“Then you must call me Zaliva.”
“Zaliva, it is,” He replied. Samantha kissed her father on the cheek and she turned to wave to Vera as she climbed into the rear seat of the luxurious car. Interesting . . . he wants her, Zaliva thought to herself as she watch the way Governor Simpson drew his daughter onto his lap. A weakness she could so easily exploit at the right time. The door closed and the car wheels squeaked as they turned against the stone driveway.
“The pleasure is all ours!” Repeated Zaliva to herself watching the car pulling away.
Zaliva thoughts jumped back to the night of the steamy Grand Climax. A delicious night of satanic revelry; of sex and blood; of the virgin offering. The members of the coven had all arrived. Eager and excited. Zaliva dragged her naked maid on her knees, chained like a filthy dog, and into the little temple dedicated to the celebration of their dark phallic god. It was the last of the secret rooms and only used when the coven gathered for their special little rituals – that was completely decorated in extreme pornography of the most perverted, vulgar and sadistic type.
Today was to be one of those especially profane rituals for the Witches’ Sabbath. Zaliva’s inner thighs were constantly wet. For showmanship, Ivy Eiceart stood at the altar, which comprised of a raised platform, decorated with an inverted pentagram. Her hands were extended outwards, palms upwards toward the heavens as she chanted an offertory – a secret sacrilegious prayer in Latin to incite the evil sexual spirits that that hoped would bring them long and multiple orgasms. Immediately behind her, a large blackened wooden cross, hung blasphemously inverted.
“In nomine Dei nostri Satanas Luciferi Excelsi,” she droned.
Large standing phallic candles lit the room with an eerie flickering light reminiscent of an old medieval basement instead of the penthouse level of one of the most expensive apartment buildings in Manhattan. The other witches, Abaigeal, Cori and Fallon, flanked her, all naked beneath their black velvet ritual robes, upon their heads they each wore the pointed masks crown with crosses inverted, with sinister eye holes cut that reminded the crouching Ms. Angela of another old evil . . . the Ku Klux Khan.
“Ego vos benedictio,” responded the other witches.
Hung in the middle of the temple was the naked and undulating body of Vera’s school friend, young Samantha. Her hips bucked back and forth. Her bladder looked swollen and on the edge of bursting. Her virginity was about to be taken as she looked unblinkingly and high as a kite. The two evil little sisters and Ms. Angela’s sons were all dressed in matching white surplices, open at the sides and held with simple ties at their shoulders and waist for ease of removal. Around their necks they each wore small black inverted crosses. They each knelt at four of the five pentagram points of their naked hanging friend. The two incestuous sisters touched themselves as they eagerly awaited the brutalization of the virgin girl.
The tools of the diabolical ritual, the Malleus Maleficarum, were all laid out for the high priestess of the Black Mass. The poisoned black chalice, the consecrated host, the sacrificial knife, the phallic aspergillum and the shining dildo crucifix that would be used to take her blessed fucking virginity.
Zaliva was very agitated. Her cunt was also distended and itchy for perverted sex. She had looked forward to this moment with great expectation. The drinking of urine and boys semen . . . the virgin blood . . . the blessing of the devil . . . defecating into the mouth of their living altar . . . she loved to mock the Zion god, FUCK JESUS! FUCK THE VIRGIN MARY! It was always such a fucking turn-on.
The witches removed their hoods and each took turns in blessing the virgin . . . kissing and sucking upon her small-coned nipples, licking her distended vulva and tasting her arousal as they chanted . . . “Ego vos benedictio in nomine magni dei nostri sSatanas ave Satanas ave domini inferi.”
Ivy brought the black chalice and held it beneath Samantha’s spread legs. The others stood closer and chanted blasphemously as Ivy’s fingers pressed either side of her urethra as she pushed her bloated stomach with the other. Samantha gave a girlish giggle and urine gushed forth over her hands, though most of it seemed to have managed to be captured into the chalice. Once over-flowing Ivy lent forward before the steam died and drank greedily from the girl’s yellowish piss flow. The young girls lapped at the piss wetness down Samantha’s mons and inner thighs. Ivy stepped back, wiping her mouth and triumphantly held the draft aloft. She then dipped the phallic aspergillum into the yellow fluid and shook it over the inverted cross and the pentagram of the altar. The other witches each knelt as Ivy blessed them with virgin urine.
“Ave Satanas.” She said as she anointed each of the witches and then each of the acolytes – Zaliva’s daughters, Ms. Angela’s two boy and finally Ms. Angela herself. The two young effeminate boys both tented their white surplices that were marked with visible signs of pre-cum staining. The girls were already furiously masturbating themselves. The boys lifted their surplices and began to rub themselves in time with the rhythmical chanting of the witches.
“In nomine Dei nostri Satanas Luciferi Excelsi,” they chanted, their robes now open from the front, as they too could touch themselves and each other.
Ms. Angela, panted eagerly, watching the masturbation ritual unfold. The air seemed too vibrant with a strange sexualized energy. Ivy took the phallic crucifix and rubbed its penis-like crown up and down the front of her vulva, lubricating it with her juices . . . she pushed it into her vagina and groaned lewdly. Removing it again she passed it to each of the witches, each dipping its length into their cunts. The last was Zaliva. Once she had felt its girth inside her, she held it vertically beneath Samantha’s vagina. The witched groaned in their personal pleasures as they watched and waited for the moment of phallic penetration into the virgin. Ivy placed her hand over Zaliva’s and they both rammed the phallus upward hard into the girl’s opening.
Samantha gasped. Though the pain was sharp but brief, the thickness of the phallus broke her hymen. The drugs had taken the edge off of any short-term discomfort. Zaliva withdrew the bloody phallus. Zaliva and Ivy both took turns in licking the phallus. Thanking Satan for pleasure yet to unfold. The symbolism was now done. Samantha now belonged to them and the Devil . . . a bride to the beast like the rest of them. They brought her down and laid her across the altar as the acolytes moved around her taking turn to drench in acrid urine as Zaliva climbed above the altar, positioning herself immediately above the virgin’s open mouth. She lowered herself as Samantha obediently lapped at her pissy pussy and rimmed her anus.
“Unum numine nobis solemnitate comedamus Satanas!” Ivy chanted.
Zaliva urinated over her . . . marking her territory like a dog . . . the groaned as she began to slowly defecate . . . in a repeat of their more private ritual in the Succubus Suite. The strong smell of shit filled the air as Zaliva anal opening parted to excrete a thick hard pillar of human waste. Zaliva was close to orgasm as she danced above the young girl, groaning from the sheer size of her offering.
“Manducare convivium Satanas!” Groaned the witches and acolytes all watched fixated at the disgusting length of the ropy turd that now swung vulgarly between Zaliva’s anus and Samantha’s mouth.
Samantha craned her neck upwards welcoming the foul phallic shit into her mouth, closing her lips around its girth and sucking it like a penis. As Zaliva snapped off the other end of the piece of shit it fell across Samantha’s chin and down onto her piss-soaked chest and neck. Dina had donned strap-on and climbed between Sam’s legs. Her sister, Vera aided her, as they inserted its bulbous end into the entry of Sam’s spoilt vagina. Once inside they both began smearing their mother’s stinky shit over Samantha’s body with their bare hands.
ZALIVA & HER EVIL DAUGHTERS – CHAPTER 5 (1,872 WORDS)
It was now Friday 27th August, 2010 and Zaliva’s lover, Ivy Eiceart, had many macabre fantasies. She had convinced her perverted lover, Zaliva, to arrange for the death of her own husband. She had had her own rags-to-riches and missing husband story; and now enjoyed the fruits of her evil labor. Independently wealthy, her material needs were well met. Her extreme tastes had been sate on many occasions by the ghoulish company she kept. The coven of Zaliva, Ivy and three other young and wealthy widows, Abaigeal, Cori and Fallon, continued to meet openly at fine dining restaurants, high society parties and other celebrity events until she became suspicious. Something was not right. It seemed that their combined affairs were being scrutinized – not openly, but discretely.
“Zaliva its Ivy. We need to meet,” said Ivy over the phone.
“What is it?” Asked Zaliva.
“I don’t want to talk about it over the phone. Meet me at the old church. You know the one.”
“Yes, but I don’t understand?”
“Zaliva. Just come alone.”
She hung up the phone and looked across the street at the figure of a man standing out of reach of the street lamp. She left by the back door.
The old church was abandoned and a rather strange place for a sexual liaison, but Zaliva, felt the vibrations of warning in Ivy’s voice. The Celtic woman had taught her many things. The words unsaid were more telling that those spoken.
“Zaliva? Is that you?”
“Yes it is.”
“We have a serious problem. One that may take more than an incantation and a sprinkling of black magic to fix.”
“What is it Ivy?”
“Your husband’s death may have a complication. There is a detective involved – the clumsy one. I see his hand in something dangerous for the coven. Do you remember him?”
“Surely not? He was so delightfully incompetent!”
“It is an act. He appeared confused and indecisive . . . but I have felt his influence on more than one occasion. He is watching us. All of us. The coven. We have been careless and now he suspects something. It is time to cover our tracks.”
“What do you propose?”
“For a start your maid and her children . . . they must disappear for good. You, and your daughters must take an extended holiday. The coven must only meet in secret. Our lives must be seem as divergent as possible . . . then we must take care of this Detective Gannon – he will visit you shortly.”
“How do you know?”
“I just do. When he comes it will appear as a routine follow-up. It isn’t. He suspects something . . . but he has nothing. We MUST make sure that it stays that way.”
“How we going to get rid of this detective?”
“A heart attack, my dear. The fucking overweight bastard is ripe for it,” guffawed Ivy. “Whilst fucking a runaway boy. We must disgrace him in his death . . . it will throw his superiors off of our trail.”
“Very imaginative . . . and, how do we make my maid disappear?”
“Easy. It will appear that you let her go . . . America is a big place, people can just vanish . . . in the meanwhile we journey to Rio. Rio is such a wonderful place; I heard recently that they shoot vagrant families there. Yes. They shoot them. Kill them.” She laughed. “There our friends from the underbelly will be assisting us. Your maid will be making her debut appearance with her two boys in our devil-worshiping snuff movie. Our identities will be of course concealed as we truly fuck them up! It’s going to be so much fun. Kill three birds with one stone.”
Zaliva and Ivy embraced and kissed each other’s mouths.
It was Monday morning on the 7th September 2010. Zaliva looked through the security camera image of beyond their threshold. It was the detective, just as Ivy had predicted. She was well prepared for his surprise visit.
“Good afternoon Detective . . .”
“Detective Gannon. Look sorry to drop in on you unannounced.”
“Well, I was about to leave for the day. So you are lucky to have caught me.”
“Caught you? Oh, Yes. Of course. Going out,” he stuttered uncomfortably. The detective scanned the apartment from the entry until his gaze returned to the gorgeous Zaliva. So athletic. He felt his cock twitch in his pants.
“So are you here in an official capacity? Some lead into my husband’s death? Would you like a drink? My apologies, I am without a maid at the moment. She was dismissed a few days ago, and so I am having to do everything myself, while I organize for a replacement . . . why, don’t you come through to the kitchen.”
“Oh, look I don’t want to put you to any trouble. I am here to follow up on the homicide of course. Just routine. Nothing else. Maid, you said, right. No longer here . . . did she give you a forwarding address by any chance?” His eyes traveled carelessly across her fuck-me outfit.
“Oh, that’s a shame. Nice place you have. Must be worth a pretty penny?”
“Yes it is. Now, how can I help you Detective . . . Gannon?”
The detective fumbled in his pocket for a note pad and a pencil that seemed to be hiding in the deep recesses of his coat pocket.
“Right. Yes. Help me? Yes . . . right well, go straight to the point. So, you are a close acquaintance of Ms. Ivy Eiceart . . . of Eiceart Enterprises? I saw that she was standing by you at the wake?”
“Yes. She lost her husband some time ago and was helping me with the grieving process. A warm and charitable woman Detective . . . I wouldn’t say that we are that close, though we have met up a few times as we do move in similar social circles . . . but what has this got to do with my late husband?”
“Well, we have to follow up on every person . . . nothing against Ms. Eiceart. And . . . Ms. Abaigeal Legend, Ms. Cori Butcher and Ms. Fallon McGregory? They . . . all close acquaintances of yours?” His beady little eyes burned with potency looking at Zaliva’s eight-inch heels.
“They are all people that I have met up with from time to time, socially for exactly the same reasons . . . we help various charitable organizations and have fund-raisers and often need to discuss details.”
“Char-it-able-organ-iz-at-ions,” said Gannon as he tried to write it in his note pad with his pencil that was far too short, looking as if he was struggling to actually spell the words correctly.
“ Yes. Anything else?”
“Well, that drink? Water? I’m parched.” Zaliva gestured towards the direction of the kitchen. “Must cost a pretty penny to live in a place like this. With . . . with your husband departed, I mean, it must be burden. The finances I mean? You know, all those bills. The costs involved?” His eyes strayed across her ample breasts . . . following her cleavage and exposed belly-button ring. He glimpsed the tip of a pelvic tattoo. He swallowed hard.
“God has smiled upon us. We are blessed Detective with more than we need – this is why we dedicated our available time to helping those without.” Zaliva gave him the water and lent against the kitchen counter. His eyes narrowed as if concentrating on what she was saying, but inadvertently traveling to her exposed flesh.
“God Almighty. Yes. I see. Well that’s all for now. Sorry to have troubled you. Thanks for the water. I . . . I can see myself out, if you are busy.”
“No detective. I wouldn’t be so inattentive. Please, this way.”
With shrug Gannon turned towards the direction of the hallway as Zaliva made it clear that he was not going to get to snoop around on his own.
“One last question. Why did you fire your maid?”
“I never said I did. She quit. She never said why. Reliable home help is hard to come by these days.”
“Yes. Yes. You’re right I guess. Don’t have a maid myself, but I could imagine that it would be rather problematic. No forwarding address? No. Right, got that. OK.” His eyes boggled at her waistline. “Look, there maybe a few things I missed . . . I may need to check back with you?”
“Well, from Sunday, 12th September, the girls and I will be on extended holiday overseas, so just leave a message on the machine. I check it from time-to-time. Good day detective.”
Detective Gannon tucked his hands deeply into his coat pocket as he strode purposefully across the road to the waiting unmarked car. He had felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up from the moment he had encountered the enigmatic Zaliva Ivkin. She was involved. He knew it. She was a fucking evil scheming witch. Probably incited by that Ms. Ivy Eiceart.
And the rest of them – Ms. Abaigeal Legend, Ms. Cori Butcher and Ms. Fallon McGregory, they were all in it – like a bunch of black widows. ‘God has smiled upon us. We are blessed Detective with more than we need . . .’ Yer, that’s about right. Nothing to do with God . . . more like the devil! Fuck, she was hot! Gannon climbed into the car and couldn’t help rub the hardness inside his pants. Fucking tits on that! Dressed like a fucking whore . . . a very wealthy whore . . . oh yer. Fuck! I bet she gives great head! Oh! Fuck! Talk about camel toe . . . I could almost see her cunt lips through her tight pants. Fucking bend over babe! Oh yer! YER! FUCK . . . [spurt] . . . suddenly the detective came inside his pants.
It was Friday 10th September 2010. Zaliva had arranged for the coven to gather. The need for secrecy was never greater. She felt the subtle pressure of the suspicious detective. He had nothing, but that wasn’t the point. The unwanted attention was more than enough. They would discuss the details of exactly what to do.
Ivy’s plan of getting rid of her maid and her children by using them in the making of their satanic-themed snuff movie was brilliant. Zaliva could not help but rubbing herself at the thought. Her two girls had completely feminized the boys, encouraged them in all aspects of incest and Ms. Angela’s new allegiance to the Devil, was so fetching. Their snuffing would all be a work of art . . . deliciously sacrilegious and blasphemous.
To be continued in part two (chapter 6) of the story.
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