DISCLAIMER: The following is fiction. The story’s content is not representative of the writer’s beliefs, opinions, or attitudes. This story is intended for adult entertainment only. The characters and events depicted in this work are fictional. The author does not condone or promote any unlawful activity as depicted in the story. By continuing to read this work you acknowledge that you are an adult who wishes to read works of fantasy and fiction for the purpose only of fantasy. All the characters in this story are adults. They may play different ages for the fictional character they are depicting but they remain at all times adults. All Rights Reserved © 2024 LITTLESALLY666.
STORY CODES: Religious Themes, Supernatural, LGBT themes, WS, Scat, Blasphemy, Sacrilege, Sodomy, Young, Devil Worship, NC, Abuse, Rape, and Snuff
CREATED: 01.12.2024
Lady Phallus
SYNOPSIS OF LADY PHALLUS
It’s Georgian England. The place is Southwark in London. A young man finds himself facing a dilemma. On one hand, is his proposal to be married to a young, beautiful, but conservative woman. On the other, he has discovered a part of himself, that is deeply perverted and depraved — how will he reconcile? — how will he choose? He cannot be everything to everybody, without becoming nothing to nobody. Helping him along this dark journey is a satanic witch, who has an agenda to pervert the young man and make him one of her sex slaves … maybe his intended bride, too!
CHARACTERS OF LADY PHALLUS (IN ORDER OF APPEARANCE)
- Halt St. Peter — Protagonist and real estate agent
- Ernst Peppercorn — Lawyer to Lady Phallus
- Manu — Young boy servant to Lady Phallus
- Lady Phallus — Wealthy “woman” and an evil hermaphroditic witch
- Sophie Winchester — Halt’s fiancé
- Unknown man — imprisoned by Lady Phallus
LADY PHALLUS — CHAPTER ONE (3,328 WORDS)
My name is Halt St. Peter. After I graduated with a qualification in engineering, I began my career in property development, with a highly respected firm based in Southwark, London. As a junior associate, most of my assignments were to assist the older associates in the company with various property acquisitions, designs, developments, and sometimes even sales. The firm also did some trading as well. It was a fine company to work for and I showed good aptitude in my work endeavours — and was, of course, hopeful of a promotion to the associate level.
Things changed for me dramatically when I was requested to travel to the estate of a very wealthy client. The other associates were too busy at the time to attend to other matters, so it fell into my lap to secure the client’s signature on the key documents, pertaining to the sale.
I first met with Mr. Ernst Peppercorn, in our Southwark office, towards the end of August 1752. He was a grey-haired lawyer, rather informal actually, who represented the interests of a mysterious wealthy widow, known to us as Lady Phallus.
At the time, I was informed by Mr. Peppercorn of her interest in purchasing several landmark properties, near the district of the Old Bailey. A premium location at the time. The journey to visit the client would take me to the Wilds of the North Celtic Wales. It was undoubtedly an important assignment for me. I was one of the youngest of the junior associates in the firm. And I wanted to make a good impression on my superiors.
The journey by stagecoach would take almost four days (and three nights). My fiancé, Sophie Winchester, was happy that I had been selected for this assignment (I forgot to mention to her, that I was the only one available at the time) but was anxious about our time apart. You see, our wedding had been imminently planned and there was much still left to prepare. Her parents, Mr. and Mrs. Winchester were very particular. She said that my selection was a sign of my possible promotion in the ranks which reflected on my good character as a suitable husband in the eyes of her family.
I was to make several such visitations to the Wilds of North Celtic Wales — the last of which — was to be on the 31st of October, the Eve of Halloween. However, at the time, I was not aware of the significance of this timing.
The stately home of the client, Lady Phallus, was more like a medieval castle. Remote in location and set against a backdrop of endless moors — and surrounded by a gloomy forest — it seemed like something from a nightmare rather than any fairytale.
With my portmanteau in one hand, wearily, I climbed down from the stagecoach that had drawn to a stop before the huge and unwelcoming metal gates of the castle, which was more like a portcullis.
“Sir, I cannot take you any further,” said the stagecoach driver.
He seemed to be in a big hurry to leave. And with that comment, he turned the stagecoach around and left the same way he’d arrived. The castle gates opened like a maul. As I entered the narrow cobblestone courtyard, that led up the hill to the castle, the gates clanked noisily as they closed behind me.
I was out of breath by the time I reached the castle doors. I gripped the large, circular door knocker to announce my arrival. Its sound was enough to wake the dead! Eventually, the door began to open. I was greeted by a young page. He introduced himself as Manu, the servant-boy to Lady Phallus.
I thanked him, as he took my portmanteau, and led me up more steps to a large reception room which was warmed by an enormous stone fireplace. Everything looked so archaic. The reception room walls were covered with dark wood paneling and upon them hung the trophy heads of many animals. Some of which I had no idea of their origin.
“Yes, my husband was a hunter,” announced Lady Phallus.
This was the first time I had seen the client in person. She was taller than I imagined. Dark, long hair, and a very pale complexion. She was dressed in black lace from head to foot and carried herself like royalty.
“Welcome to my country home,” she greeted me without any sense of false modesty.
”Thank you,” I respectfully responded.
“Mr. St. Peter … May I call you, Halt?” I nodded, “Well Halt, you must be very tired after your long journey from London. Thank you for taking the time to indulge me in this personal visitation — business should always be personal — don’t you agree?”
“Yes, of course,” I answered, but didn’t understand all the principles of business in the first place.
“Maybe Manu can get you some refreshments. Something a little exotic could that be in good order?”
I simply nodded. I was still trying to get my bearings.
She looked strange. Honestly, I wasn’t sure what to think. Yes, she had the gracefulness and poise of someone of great importance and carried herself like an aristocrat. But something was unnerving about her demeanour. Maybe it was in the way she looked at me — like a carnivore would look at its prey — as if I was to be her next meal.
”Thank you, for your kind hospitality,” I eventually said, “Yes, the journey was rather arduous but now I’m glad that I am here so we can complete your business transactions. After which, I will not impose upon you further and will be immediately on my way again, back to London.”
”Heaven’s forbid, the journey must’ve taken you almost four days … you must rest and recuperate first. Of course, we will resume our business dealings as soon as possible. However, please accept my most humblest of hospitality. May, my home be yours for the next few days.”
She gestured for me to take a seat next to the fireplace with her. We sat down.
“Manu has prepared your accommodation. I want to hear more about the landmark properties that I have in mind to purchase. I want to know more about the district of the Old Bailey. I hear that it is a popular place. I was told that you were an expert in these matters and I would like to draw upon your experience before we can secure a deal.”
I was certainly no expert. And had very little experience.
”Of course, this is why I’m here,” I lied, “However, I am to be wed very shortly, so let our dealings be swift so that I can be back in London within a few days.”
“To be wed … oh, how wonderful … a virgin bride … yes … and who is the lucky catch? I assume that she must be gorgeous, beautiful … and charming. She is certainly a lucky young woman …”
Lady Phallus seemed to gush … I was happy to have a topic to talk to that wouldn’t display my naivety in business dealings.
“Her name is Sophie. Sophie Winchester … she’s delightful … and I am the lucky one.”
‘Well, Halt …” replied Lady Phallus, licking her blood-red lips, “It would be so wonderful to meet your … Sophie Winchester … possibly, on one of your future visits to my abode?”
I never confirmed or denied it. I thought it highly unlikely but played along with this strange woman who looked upon me — as if to consume me — I really didn’t want to stay any longer than necessary. However, I was concerned about making sure that the property deal was done properly and that my superiors would look upon my actions as being suitable for a promotion.
Manu reappeared and offered to show me to my accommodation. I swear the endless corridors and many halls confused me. I would have to be careful not to get lost in Lady Phallus’s strange world. I followed Manu and eventually, after many upward steps, we arrived at a door.
Lady Phallus had described my accommodation as meagre. It was far from that, maybe more aptly ostentatious. There was a large four-poster bed, standing mirror, side tables, fireplace, and a wide chest of draws. The walls were covered with intricate tapestries that were difficult to see in the glowing firelight — however, at first glance, they appeared to be creepy scenes of medieval hell — not particularly to my taste.
There was a large window that looked out across the dark moors. The moon was already large in the evening sky. It appeared to be a long way down to the rampart. The wind howled outside, rattling the thin panes. And I was glad of the warmth inside.
I thought to freshen up and then sought to present Lady Phallus the documentation that required her signature. My plan was very simple, I would take her through the key documentation, ask her to sign, and then request for my transfer back to London … as quickly as I could. As it was already very late … I accepted the fact that I would need to stay the night. I hoped the stagecoach would be able to fetch me shortly in the morning.
But plans are only plans, and instead of a presentation, I was invited for a nightcap with Lady Phallus in her luxurious drawing room. Everything about her castle was of a grand scale. Everything was over-embellished. Everything was stone, marble, gold-plated, and crafted like a jewel. I concluded that she must be very wealthy indeed. Honestly, I couldn’t wait to leave this rather gaudy place.
The September weather was rather colder in the Wilds. Manu provided me with a simple white nightshirt (as I never thought to bring my own). I donned the nightshirt and slippers. And with Manu’s assistance, proceeded down to the drawing room, where Lady Phallus was already waiting for me. The drawing was overly warm. I felt myself sweat, even dressed so lightly and only slippers on my feet.
Manu showed me to a large punched leather couch and served me a dark yellow drink in a crystal glass. It appeared to be a late-harvest wine (like a desert wine maybe) — but it had the pungency of urine.
She seemed less in a mood for formality, so I tried to relax and go with the flow. I watched her carefully as Lady Phallus sat opposite me and drank from her own glass. Her eyes said to me, “Why aren’t you drinking?” … So, I put the glass to my lips. Indeed, it had the taste of salty urine. Not wanting to be rude, so I gulped it down quickly, to which, she smiled most mischievously.
I couldn’t help but notice that Lady Phallus had changed her clothing. No longer so formal. The plunging neckline of her bejewelled camisole revealed more of her pale white skin and almost completely flat chest. Her delicate lace wrap fell only to her mid-thighs, showing off her thin white legs, covered in thigh-high stockings, and black-heeled open-toes shoes. She looked like a whore. Even the black velvet choker that hung around her neck seemed to be decorated with some kind of demonic image upon it — as if she were a witch, or possibly a devil worshiper — I pretended not to notice.
Despite all my misgivings, I did find myself strangely attracted to Lady Phallus. Was it her pheromones? Something was working secretly on my libido. I found myself becoming erect in her presence. As I sat, I crossed my legs to hide my raging hard-on. I knew it was wrong to think about these unnaturally sexual things. Well, I was about to be married to Sophie Winchester. I loved my fiancée. And couldn’t wait to share God’s gift of physical love on our wedding night.
Indeed, it seemed that Lady Phallus was also rather amorous in her demeanor. I sensed her sexual arousal — was I imagining things? — she seemed interested in pursuing carnal delights with me even though I had informed her of my imminent betrothal. Lady Phallus moved to sit next to me. Closely. I felt the heat of her body.
“You must stay with us, Halt. Be it for just a week. I want to learn more about you. Please, indulge this poor widow in her little game of cat and mouse. You will have your deal. You will get your promotion. It is assured. And you will be back in plenty of time to attend to the tender needs of your loving fiancée.”
My mind was all over the place. No, that’s a lie. I was thinking with my cock.
“Well, I suppose a week could be arranged. And if the deal is secure, I most certainly would be only too happy to be of assistance to you … in any way, that I could.”
Even as the words left my lips, I felt a deep regret. I was the mouse … not the cat. Her hand rested on mine. Her fingers felt clammy with excitement. She rubbed her oily palm over the back of my hand, pressing it against my concealed erection.
“I was pleased to see you enjoyed my champagne. I do love champagne, don’t you?” it was a rhetorical question, “Lots of champagne. I like it dark and heady. Salty like brine. Its vulgar taste does so appeal to me. The smell of it on my skin arouses my darkness and my need for fulfilment.”
Her long, black fingernails reached beneath my hand that hid my throbbing cock, groping my groin, through the thin material of my nightshirt. She began to stroke my erection and smiled as if I had no choice but to do whatever she wanted. I was the whore now. By champagne, I could only imagine that she’d been talking about her urine. What kind of woman enjoys the taste of her own urine? Was she some kind of witch or a demon … maybe a sexual succubus?
I wasn’t thinking straight but I couldn’t help feeling so horny as she made no secret of masturbating my cock through the nightshirt’s thin material.
“Stand up and urinate for me. Do it in your clothing. Do it now. Let me feel the warmth of your hot piss through my fingers. I want to taste your cock whilst it’s soaking in your piss. I want you to piss in my mouth. Piss over my tits. Piss in my anus. Do these things shock you? Ha … I see that my deviant desires are shared. Yes, you are a pervert … just like me. Piss for me. Soak your clothing so that I may suck your delicious urine from the material. Yes. Yes … Yes, dear boy … do my bidding …”
I don’t know what came over me. I stood up while she continued to fondle me through the thin material of the nightshirt — then, I began to wet myself for her. What was I doing? How could I do such a perverse thing? Part of me wanted to stop, but part of me didn’t. Part of me was enjoying being told what to do, being dominated for the first time, and enjoying doing something rather sexually bizarre.
Soon the urine had soaked through the material of my nightshirt, her hands gripped my wet cock through the damp material and stroked me even faster — until I was unable to urinate anymore. Maybe my bladder was empty. Maybe my erection began to stop the flow of urine as I approached an almost orgasmic state.
“Yes, you are the one. I knew it. Your fiancée will never do the things that I will do to you tonight and for the rest of this week … in my domain … you will wear no clothing around me. Naked and naughty — a virgin no doubt — but soon you’ll be a dirty, little fucker.”
Her bizarrely, offensive tone only excited me further.
“You will no longer use the latrine, except my mouth. You will drink my piss and eat my excrement. Yes, my dearest — I am a sexual demon — and we shall pray together to Satan to bring us the most perverse of sexual pleasures. Say you are willing … say you will do these perverted things for thy … say you will bow down before the Baphomet … that I am your demon of depravity …”
How could I be with this strange creature of the night that wanted only the most perverted of carnal delights? Yet there I was. I was still there. I pulled the piss-wet nightshirt over my head and knelt naked before her. Like a pet. A willing pet. Was it because I wanted to or was it because I felt compelled to? I wasn’t sure. Was this a bewitching? Had she cast a spell over me? She had me on the brink of orgasm. Holding me there in suspension as if I could not go forward. I could not go back. All I could do was do whatever she wanted me to do.
”That’s so nasty … I see you’ll make an excellent sex slave!” she growled as she stood up, towering over me, and opened the front of her wrap.
It was then that I realized her true sexual identity. She was no woman. Well, she was not a complete woman or maybe she was a woman and more. She had no breasts, only large coin sized aerolas and hard black nipples that stood out like bullets. Her groin was completely hairless, and her vagina was open and wet.
Neither of these things surprised me. It was her clitoris. It appeared deformed, standing completely upright — it was obscenely large and prominent — even longer than my penis. Just like a male cock it had a foreskin that was drawn back, revealing a thick purple head, drooling with her sexual fluids. She was a hermaphrodite — both man and woman combined.
“It’s time for you to drink from the source,” she said, as she pressed my head forward onto her clitoris, forcing it into my mouth, so I was sucking her like a faggot. Then, withdrawing her serpent-like appendage, she pressed my mouth to her oily fat cunt lips — though I never stopped the rubbing of her deformed cock.
That’s when she began to urinate into my mouth. Her piss was hot and salty, and I swallowed it as quickly as I could before it flowed from the sides of my mouth and poured down my bare chest. I was her toilet. I had begun to masturbate myself whilst I performed these perverted acts. I thought now of nothing else, but pleasing this perverted goddess. After pissing, she pressed her cock back into my mouth and began to face fuck me, stroking herself as I sucked upon the filthy head of her clit-cock.
I felt two small hands upon my hips. They wrapped around me and began to take over my masturbation. That’s when I realized that the small hands belonged to Manu. From over my shoulder, I could see the young boy was completely naked and fully erect. His cock did not look like that of a child. It was a man’s cock. He pressed it hard against my anus — as if in preparation to sodomize me.
“How can a female pleasure you like this? Isn’t this worth giving up on your stupid marriage? Don’t you crave cock? Don’t you crave sex with other cocks?”
My mouth was too filled with her cock to answer, but she could see how I could quickly become addicted to these strange impulses that filled my mind, and most importantly, my eager genitals.
“I am a priestess of Satan. I guess by now you know that I have no interest in any deals or properties — that all I want is pervert cock — and more pervert cock. Lots of cocks. Lots of pissing cocks. Lots of shitting arseholes all praying to me as their goddess and willing to do whatever I want them to do.”
xxxxx
LADY PHALLUS — CHAPTER TWO (2,207 WORDS)
Life it seems is not without irony. Upon the end of the week, I returned to Southwark, of course, my immediate superiors were not impressed that the deal had been incomplete. Their first thought was to replace me with someone more senior, once they had discovered the quantum of the deal. However, it had been Lady Phallus’ lawyer who had informed them that they were reconsidering their options, that I was to remain the primary for this transaction, and that they would be getting back to us within a few days. This somehow placated the need for my bosses to take action against my so-called failure.
The widow’s lawyer had instructed the firm that I should return to the castle with alternative proposals drafted by our firm’s investment team so that Lady Phallus could peruse them, and come to a decision about the future of her interests in the Old Bailey.
I knew this was a thin veneer to get me to return to her perverted abode in the Wilds. Whatever romantic ideals I had had about sex had been dispelled — replaced with devil worship, sexual rituals, and perverted filth. Part of me immediately longed to be there — to indulge in disgusting acts with the hermaphroditic witch and her boy lover. Part of me regretted my actions and wanted to get on with the rest of my life — to be a faithful husband to my fiancé — as we began our new life together as Mr. and Mrs. St. Peter.
“What was it like?” my fiancée asked me so naively.
“I’m not sure if I know what you mean?” I lied.
I knew exactly what she was asking about. She wanted to know why I was held up for an entire week in the Wilds of Celtic Wales. So far away from her. Why had I been delayed? And why had I not spoken about the lack of progress with the deal that was supposed to guarantee my promotion within the firm? What was I going to say? I could never mention that I did unspeakable things with this perverted demon — who seemed to want to take my very soul.
“It was difficult. The client wasn’t sure about what she wanted to do … she changed her mind several times. I was prepared, but there was a lot to consider.”
I tried to make my argument sound plausible.
“Well, I don’t see why you have to go back again. Can’t one of the other associates go in your place? It’s so close to our wedding day. I need you here with me. I need you to help me make the decisions about the wedding arrangements. My father and mother are very apprehensive.”
I knew where this was going.
“I’m so sorry. I wish it was different,” I lied.
I felt guilty as she looked at me with those wide, believing eyes — so innocent. So beautiful and so young. She was almost the antithesis of everything that was Lady Phallus. But if I were completely honest with myself, every time I closed my eyes, didn’t I see my pretty, young and vulnerable fiancée … the vision in my mind was one of Lady Phallus — that made my cock so hard, that I had no choice, but to retreat to the privacy of my bathroom to secretly masturbate, drink my urine, smothering myself in my shit as I re-imagined my scat-play with Lady Phallus — she seemed to possess the very essence of my disturbingly depraved sexuality.
All this talk about Satan … sex demons, devils, and the twin-sex Baphomet … seemed to have had a profound effect on me. My mind was like a gutter. Maybe in a way that I didn’t want to admit to. I felt so hideous. So dirty. I felt twisted. I felt evil. Surely, that wouldn’t make me very good husband material — had I always secretly been like this or was I just beginning to understand how perversion was my only source of true pleasure?
I concluded that I needed to go through with my marriage proposal, as we were already too committed. Everything was on the line. Our families were expecting it. My fiancée was expecting it. How could I renege?
My immediate superiors, however, changed the course of events and informed me that I would be the one who would have to travel back to the Wilds of Celtic Wales — to once again — present to the enigmatic Lady Phallus a new deal on the properties that they sought to sell her.
It didn’t seem to matter that my marriage was imminent to them — they insinuated — that how could I consider my marital status over my position with their firm? This was an honor to represent them to their client. No junior associate had ever been given such an opportunity. I was to make a decision. I could either delay the wedding and attend to business or I may be asked to step down from my junior associate position.
I was between a rock and a hard place.
My fiancée was beside herself. Had I lost my desire for her? Had I gone mad? Had I lost interest in our marriage? How could I do this to her?
It was the night before I was supposed to leave that she came to me … maybe her idea was that we should both lose our virginities together — and in that way, it would convince me — that I should not back out of the marriage.
She had no idea of course that I had lost my virginity to a demon pervert. She had dressed somewhat seductively (in her naive way) and made no secret that she wanted me to sleep with her. This was completely out of character for my fiancee, who always acted prim and proper. Maybe it was her desperation to make sure that the wedding went ahead — I couldn’t be sure.
We were to make love. However, I found it difficult to get aroused. There was nothing wrong with her body. She was perfect. Petite, beautiful, and virginal. But despite this — I found it was almost impossible for me to get an erection. My body failed me. Of course, she never went down on me, touched me provocatively, talked dirty, or demanded perverted things — but expected me to take her virginity with little more than a poke of my cock in the missionary position.
We kissed and hugged. And I did what anyone would’ve done. I said that it was God’s way, and she should save her virginity for our wedding night. I felt like such a cheat and liar. It was then I realised that I was no longer who I thought I was.
xxxxx
The second trip to the Wilds of Centic Wales seemed to be much shorter this time. The time passed in a flash. As the coachman left me, once again, at the gates of hell. I picked up my bag and made my way up the hill, towards the evil castle. My step seemed lighter — as if I was anticipating all the forbidden pleasures — that had been granted to me by my goddess, Lady Phallus. Her hideous body was what I desired most. Her flat chest. Her hard nipples. Her bony flesh. Her enormous clitoris and oily cunt … Yes, it was filthy sex that made me feel alive.
The heavy doors were opened inward. Manu stood before me, completely naked, at the door to welcome me. His cock was as hard as mine. We kissed mouth to mouth. I gripped his cock and sucked it eagerly. There was no need to be discrete here. The sham was over, and my presence here was no longer a secret. On the days that had transpired whilst on my first visitation to the castle, I had sodomised this young boy over and over. Cumming and pissing in his tight anal fuck-hole. I had done deviant things with the two of them. My mind was filled with lust incarnate and craved for evil filth of the devil.
What would happen this time? I felt my stomach tighten with anxiety. Again, I knew it was wrong, but all I wanted to do was please her. I wanted to be owned by her. I knew it was completely unnatural — but I didn’t care — all I could think about was the dirty, filthy sex that I was about to engage in. My body seemed to tell me to give myself to it — this time completely — without any hesitation.
Lady Phallus had dressed like an evil demon with curved horns upon her head. She insisted, the entire duration of my stay, that we share her obscene altar bed, which quickly became completely soaked in our combined urine — more like a soiled mess of silk sheets, feces, and semen. We wallowed in it.
”Ah, my dear boy, Halt … It pleases me greatly to have you back in my carnal temple of sexual perversion,” said the amorous Lady Phallus, “To have you here, to worship the evil of my loins. Oh, great Satan, be praised. I need your greedy little mouth around my stiff serpent. I need to taste your dirty anus. I need you to defecate in my mouth.”
My cock never stopped dripping with precum. Yes, she was all I could think about — worshipping her delicious clit (the devil’s cock) — licking her anus as her stinking brown offering crossed my lips and filled my mouth and the stench that never left my body. My poor sweet fiancée was quickly forgotten as Lady Phallus commanded her servant boy to begin to suck my cock, fondling my balls and fingering my itchy anus. But Lady Phallus had more extreme plans in mind.
I could no longer deny that she had converted me to one of her sex demons. She brought me to the bowels of the castle. This place must have been used previously as a dungeon with metal cages that lay beneath our feet. It was a gloomy place without any light. It was damp with moisture that seemed to seep through the walls and fall from the ceiling. Below, in one of the cramped cages, I saw the naked form of a young man, not so dissimilar to myself. He looked up at us as we stood over him. He looked half-starved and filthy. His hair matted. His pale body looked weak and feeble.
Lady Phallus stood over him. She laughed and urinated. Her piss flowed in a golden stream through the cage and over his head. He tried to back away, but the cage was simply too small to avoid the soaking.
”Who is he?” I asked her.
”Your firm wasn’t the only one that my lawyer communicated with. Unfortunately, this young man didn’t seem to enjoy my welcome drink. He, unlike yourself, so rudely spat out my delicious champagne.”
”But surely his firm must be looking for him?”
“You must agree, the Celtic Wilds, though beautiful, are also the home for many carnivorous animals. The wolves are always hungry. Looking for prey. I simply informed his firm that he never arrived and we terminated the deal.”
“So, what will be coming with him?”
“That, my dear Halt, is an interesting question. I have been saving him for a special occasion to coincide with the end of the harvest.”
”The unholy Samhain?”
xxxxx
Upon the week, I returned, with good news for my firm. My superiors espoused their renewed confidence in me in closing the deal. I informed them, that the client had expanded her interest to several new locations and that we were to henceforth draw up the final documents. Appeased, they thought nothing of my return to the Wilds for the third occasion.
I said nothing of Lady Phallus’ duplicity. I said nothing of the corrupt nature was this evil witch. I said nothing of the young man in the cage whose fate I was unsure of. Lady Phallus had strongly suggested that I bring my fiancé with me for my next engagement. It scared me, knowing now what Lady Phallus was capable of — but I knew I could not disobey her.
At first, my fiancé flatty refused. She was tired of the delays. I explained that this was a very delicate matter. The client had requested that she join me. My promotion was held in the balance. This would greatly enhance my career if I were to close the deal with the client. Maybe her presence would speed up the process and we would be able to begin our life together. Was I lying to my fiancée or myself? I wasn’t sure. All I knew was that I was compelled to do what it was that Lady Phallus wanted me to do. Like an invisible force pressing me forward to do her bidding.
Bringing my fiancée to the Wilds could not be a good thing. It was the worst idea of all worst ideas. However, I couldn’t see any other way forward. There was no way that I wasn’t going to return. Yet I knew that returning without my fiancée in tow would also be a big mistake.
“Why don’t think of it as our honeymoon?” I suggested.
Sophie agreed.
xxxxx
LADY PHALLUS — CHAPTER THREE (2,720 WORDS)
The next day we set out to make our journey together to the northwest of Wales across the moors and into the gloomy forest that surrounded the castle.
Funny, but Sophie seemed to be enjoying the journey. Though it was arduous and tiring — simply being together — was her greatest joy. We began to kiss and fondle each other along the way. I couldn’t believe my horniness. We stopped off at the coach house and took some rest in the local inn. It was already late and the horses needed to be fed and rested.
Maybe this was an opportunity to rekindle our love and strengthen our bonds as we move towards marriage. But then again, I couldn’t believe that bringing her to Lady Phallus was not going to lead to a happy married life. I wasn’t sure what Lady Phallus had in mind. Maybe I was wrong to think the worst? Why had she insisted upon it? Was it to shock Sophie … to allow her to see me as the pervert I had become … or did she have something else in mind?
I just knew that I had to do what I had to do.
”What is the castle like?” my fiancée asked.
”It’s old and rather drab. And the moors are a dangerous place there are many wolves and other dangers, so we must stay in the castle for safety.”
”I don’t know why but it seems that this adventure will help us bond … and understand each other better. Oh, Halt, it’s so romantic … I know it hasn’t been easy leading up to the wedding and I have been most unforgiving in terms of the plans, but I love you with all my heart and I want you to be my husband … we should live together and have children and grandchildren and be happy forever and ever.”
I wasn’t sure how to answer this. Is that the life that I wanted … a life where I was a husband and a provider, and someone who came home to this woman every night? Or was I a sodomite who needed to have sick and perverted sex, with witches who had hermaphroditic cocks … masturbated before demonic idols … wanted to fuck young boys … and inflicted pain and abuse upon others … and drink urine … lots and lots of urine?
In the privacy of our room, Sophie undressed. She looked so nervous but more animated than ever.
”I’ve never seen a man’s … you know … thing … before,” she stuttered, “Does intercourse hurt? Is it painful? I’ve heard that many women bleed afterwards … sorry … I’m just, you know … a little scared.”
”Drink this,” I told her.
I had poured a small sachet of powder into a glass of water. It was a concoction given to me by Lady Phallus. She’d told me to give it to my fiancée before bed on each night of our journey. Sophie drank it without a question.
Soon, she fell into a deep sleep. I undressed and lay next to her on the bed. The strange thing was that while she was awake, I found it impossible to get erect, but soon as she was fast asleep and helpless, my cock became turgid and hard, and I wanted to stick my cock into her. Lady Phallus had been very specific about what I should do.
“Use only her anus and mouth. Fuck her hard. But leave her virgin cunt for me,” she had said.
I pissed over my hand and rubbed it across her sleeping face. I put my fingers inside my dirty ass and then stuck them into her mouth. Strange, but it felt so good to violate her this way. She did not stir and remained comatose while I began to masturbate over her face, my precum drooled over her nose and eye sockets. I pushed my cock between her parted lips and began to piss in her mouth and then pulled back to piss over her face and hair.
I then kissed her lips, sucking her tongue like a small cock. I could taste my urine in her mouth. I licked her face and ran my hand through her piss-wet hair. Parting her lips again, I press my cock into her sleeping mouth and fucked back-and-forth, until I could take it no more.
I spread her legs, licked her anus, and licked her cunt. Her cunt was surprisingly wet and obviously aroused. Was this because of the secret potion? I didn’t fucking care. There was a feeling of evil about doing it against her will — as if I was raping the little bitch for Satan. I knelt between her legs and pressed my cock head against her little brown flower. Her cunt juices had trickled down between her legs and lubricated my forward motion, as I pushed my cock deep into her bowels. Oh, yes. This felt good. I leaned forward and sucked her pissy tits — her little dainty tits.
“Satan be praised,” I said, without fear of her knowing how much I wanted to do nasty things to her — just as Lady Phallus had instructed me to.
Her virgin anus was so deliciously tight. The muscles in her shit hole seemed to grip my cock tightly. I fucked her as if she was the young boy, Manu. Yes, the thought of fucking a young boy made me even more excited than fucking my stupid sleeping fiancé — I needed to cum inside her. I wanted my semen to reach deep into her bowels. Shit and semen. It seemed like a prayer, a dark prayer to the sex demons that now gripped my cock and balls made me think of unspeakable acts.
xxxxx
I fell asleep soon after my orgasm, and in the morning we both woke together. Sophie had no recollection of anything that had happened, but of course, I remembered my conquest over my sleeping fiance doing the things that my goddess had wanted.
We continued our journey towards the Wilds of Celtic Wales. Sophie never mentioned anything about my nighttime activities … and after the third night, I had used all the secret powder … but by that time we were already close to our destination.
As before our stagecoach driver, left us at the gate, and we both carried our bags up the steep and narrow steps leading to the castle doors. My apprehension was at its most intense. What would happen once we were inside? What exactly did Lady Phallus have in mind for the both of us?
The large, heavy doors opened and the young boy, Manu, dressed as a pageboy, welcomed both myself and my fiancée as if he had never met me before. He took our bags and showed us to the drawing room. It was only then that I realised that it was the 31st of October. Halloween or Samhain? It was the night of the witches and supposedly the dawn of the new satanic year. It seemed as if the castle was alive with dark magic. The fireplace crackled and popped its heat, warming the room to an uncomfortable level.
”Welcome, Sophie. I am Lady Phallus. My late husband was a hunter.”
It felt strangely like a déjà vu. Maybe it was a performance to lead us all down a dark tunnel. Sophie seemed to be fascinated with Lady Phallus, dressed in her all-black lace ensemble. She smiled and I could see her curiosity. I could feel the prickly heat of the room, and my cock had already become stiff in my pants.
“I have heard so much about you!” answered Sophie.
Lady Phallus smiled and gave me a side glance.
“And you, my dear, are so beautiful. Just look at you,” replied Lady Phallus, “You make me feel so jealous with your youth and attractiveness.”
”Oh my goodness,” exclaimed Sophie, “Your beauty is classic. I absolutely love your dress. It really shows off your elegant figure. May I kiss your hand?”
Her comment caught me off guard. For a moment, she curtseyed. Lady Phallus held out her hand, and I watched my fiancée kiss her fingers, licking between them, and then suck her thumb. It appeared odd and out of place. My fiancée would never do anything like that to a stranger. Hey, she’d never even sucked my thumb. Maybe it was a residual effect of the potion that I had then applied to her over the last few days … which I had allowed me to have sex with her while she slept slowly, each time increasing my sexual perversity with her sleeping body. Sophie remained on her knees as Lady Phallus opened the front of her dress so that her clit-cock stood upright in front of her face.
“After such a long journey, you must be so thirsty, my dear. Your lips look so parched and dry … and thirsty in my urine.”
Lady Phallus’s words caught me off guard again. I couldn’t believe what she was saying to my fiancee. The fact that my fiancee did not react against these obscene words surprised me more. My cock needed immediate attention and soon young Manu was rubbing me through my pants. I needed to be naked. I wanted to see my fiancee suck the witch goddess’s cock. I wanted Sophie to drink her urine. And to be drenched in it.
To my perverted delight, I watched as Sophie leaned forward and gripped the stiff clitoris of the ugly witch, as she began to massage its disgusting length with her right hand, whilst fingering the witch’s oily cunt with her left. Her mouth closed around its bulbous head and she began to suck it, like a whore, her her entire hand sank inside the witch’s ugly cunt.
“We will have a marriage. Here in my castle. You will wed me and I will take your virginity for Satan. I will impregnate you with my evil seed. You will bear me a child — that we may eat it — in celebration nine months from now. But first, let me baptise you in my urine. Drink it. Taste it. Love it. for my unholy piss is the sacrament of the Devil.”
I watched, mesmerized, as the flow of the goddess’s urine poured forth into the mouth of my fiancée. She drank it deeply as she sucked the evil witch’s cock. There was far too much for her to swallow and soon it poured down the front of her white dress, turning it translucent and dirty yellow.
“You will make a beautiful bride!” she cackled, “My toilet bride. My piss bride. My shit-eating bride!”
Lady Phallus turned to face me.
“And you my beautiful boy — you will service us both — as our sex slave. We shall be such a happy family — there shall be no limits to what we are capable of — and to begin the night of nights, on this the 31st of October, the end of the harvest and the beginning of a new year … we will celebrate with a sacrifice.”
I had never noticed those horns that seemed to protrude from her forehead looked so real. Were they real? They had been there before. I assumed them to be like a costume. But now seeing them, she looked more and more like a demented demon … like a real succubus.
“You will bring the young man up from the dungeon. He is far too weak to resist you. You will have no problems bringing him to me and you will fasten him to the posts above our wedding bed … so that we may sacrifice him to Satan … as I take my bride’s virginity for the demons in my loins … I cannot wait any longer … I must cum … I must spill my demon seed inside her virgin cunt … and fuck a demon baby into her womb.
xxxxx
My mind wasn’t my own. My body wasn’t my own. I followed her instructions to the letter. The young man who was not much older than I, was in a state of shock, he was still naked and weakened from the lack of food and water. His body appeared to be so fragile.
”Help me,” he muttered from his weak lips, “These demons will kill us both!”
I pulled his arm over my shoulder and carried him out of the dungeon. Maybe he thought that I would help him escape — that his ordeal was over — how wrong was he?
I brought him to Lady Phallus’s bedchamber. A huge bed had four large bed posts that were topped with an empty canopy. The four-bed posts appeared phallic in their design. I fastened his arms and legs, spreadeagled, so that he faced downward, looking onto the bed below him. It was only then that he realised that I wasn’t there to help him at all, but I served the evil goddess and her wickedness.
”Please,” he begged.
Unfortunately, his pleas for leniency fell upon deaf ears. I had no intention of helping him and couldn’t wait to assist my goddess in her night of nights. My beautiful Sophie lay naked upon the black satin sheets of their wedding bed. She was no longer my bride. She belong to the goddess, and it would be the goddess that would take her virginity in the name of Satan and his twisted demons.
Manu was also naked. He assisted me as we bound the young man from the dungeon so that he was like a human canopy above my naked Sophie.
Lady Phallus was dressed in a black chiffon-like wrap that cocooned her body. In her hand, she held a mystical wand. More like a spear. Her movements were as if she was performing a bizarre dance. Maybe it was the dance of lust or the dance of the Devil. Either way, her cock stood upright and dripped with precum, as she prepared to fornicate with my Sophie — I could no longer call her my fiancée — as our marriage would never happen. She would be married to a demon, and she would bear a child, that would serve as the main course at the demon’s perverted banquet, nine months hence.
”Come, Halt, join me,” she croaked, “Suck her breasts. Make her nipples hard for me. You are a servant of the Devil … and you have brought my bride to me … your blessings will be many. Lust and more lust. Endless lust. Perverted lust. Yes, you will want for nothing except to serve me, my cock, and my new bride.”
We laid either side of Sophie — all laying on our backs. Above us hung the young man from the dungeon. Taking the long spear, Lady Phallus begin to poke him with it. Small puncher wounds made his blood drip down like red rain upon us. He groaned in pain. She poked him more. More blood dripped over us. She whispered something to Sophie, who knelt up in the blood-covered sheets and straddled Lady Phallus’s clit-cock.
“Take her from behind,” Lady Phallus growled at me, like an angry animal.
Sophie gripped the witch demon’s horns tightly as she slid down upon her witch’s throbbing cock wand, as it prepared to soil her virginity.
“Fuck Yer! Hail Satan! Hail Satan! Take this bitch’s soul!” screamed the witch demon, “Accept our blood offering!”
Dispassionately, the evil witch poked at the young man’s weak body with the sharp spear into his exposed genitalia. His groans were more like cries as more blood poured from his crotch. I crouched behind Sophie, gripped her waist, and pressed my cock against her puckered anus. Blood rained down on us. The blood was everywhere. I could feel the witch’s cock inside Sophie’s cunt through the thin membrane of skin that separated her cunt hole and her anus — as we both fucked back and forth … back and forth … harder and harder … in unison together.
“Aaaghhhhh … fuck me! Fuck me!” Sophie groaned like a whore.
Sophie let out a long groan as she slid down even further onto the witch’s clit cock — her punctured hymen was long gone. The witch stabbed her spear harder into the young man’s hanging body. Deeper into her human sacrifice. She opened her mouth to drink his blood. Manu masturbated furiously and did the same. And so did I … as I began to orgasm, shooting my depraved cum deeply into Sophie’s bowels.
xxxxx
LADY PHALLUS — EPILOGUE (441 WORDS)
“”As your Managing Partner, I am privileged to announce that we have a new associate in the firm. Halt St. Peter.” there was a spontaneous round of applause, “Despite being relatively new, his work has been exemplary and we are pleased to offer him this new position.”
The promotion ceremony was short. I vaguely remember shaking hands with some twenty or so people. And then I was back at my desk. Mr. Peppercorn, Lady Phallus’s lawyer, had been most gracious in his praise of my handling of the property deal. And the firm was more than pleased with their profit share from the sale. I was a hero — for a moment.
The new position it seemed had come at a cost.
It had been a month since the unforeseen incident. Everyone had been very understanding — my grief over the loss of my fiancee, Sophie Winchester — had shocked everyone — especially Mr. & Mrs Wincester. Losing their only daughter had been a tragedy. The moors were a dangerous place. She’d been warned. Learning that wolves had taken her had been awful. A fate so horrible it defied imagination. Her family had a funeral with a body.
Of course, I knew it was all a lie. I knew where she was. I knew how things had worked out. I knew Lady Phallus had plans to in-pregnant young Sophie. It was not with my semen. Evil, it seems, has its own way of creating a virgin birth. Demons, devils, or hungry wolves? Her fate would be hanging in the balance.
The grey-haired, Mr. Peppercorn, sat across from my new associate’s desk. It seems that there are several more properties that his client has shown an interest in — he said that she would require my personalised assistance in the matter. She wouldn’t take no for an answer. With a portfolio of several major properties in the Old Bailey district — my time would need to be split between managing their leasehold agreements with potential tenants and spending time in the Wilds of North Wales — which would, in turn, put me on the partner track with the firm.
We exchanged pleasantries and paperwork.
“Of course, Lady Phallus will require your travel to and from her abode over the coming weeks and months. Lady Phallus was sorry for your loss, but such a successful, young man, would surely meet many new marriage prospects (that she would undoubtedly wish to meet),” he said with a knowing smirk, “… In addition, she would also ask your kind assistance with the selection of several new page boys for her employ, from a nearby orphanage, sympathetic nuns run that … ”
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THE END?
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