DISCLAIMER: The following is fiction. The content of the story 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 such as is 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 that they are depicting but they remain at all times adults. All Rights Reserved © 2023 LITTLESALLY666.

STORY CODES: Witchcraft, Black Magic, Supernatural, Pissing, Voyeurism, Sodomy, Transgender, Satanism, Devil Worship, Snuff (inferred), Paganism.

CREATED: 01.08.2023

SYNOPSIS: Orphaned Chloe moves to a strange new place. A strange neighborhood. Even stranger neighbors. She intends to take up her scholarship at the Old Town Christian University. However, upon arrival, she begins to dream of sinful things. Are they nightmares or just crazy fantasies? Brought up in a religious orphanage by conservative nuns — initially, Chloe is disturbed by these bizarre visions of sexual depravity — but soon she becomes embroiled in their implications for her real life.

Bitchcraft 2


  • Chloe Smith / Evelyn Smith — Veterinary student attending Old Town Christian University, orphan, 20
  • Chas Smith — Brother of our female protagonist Chloe, 24
  • Louise — Tenant on the second floor of Wellington Street, lactating single mother, 28
  • Harry — Louise’s baby, four months
  • Ms. Thelma — Tenant on the first floor of Wellington Street, a woman in her late 70s
  • Ms. Harriott — Tenant on the first floor of Wellington Street, a woman in her late 70s
  • Tina (Christina) — Tenant on the third floor of Wellington Street, trans-woman, 26
  • Detective Withe — Police detective from Old Town Central, 49
  • Samantha Williams — young Christian student on scholarship, 19
  • Joseph North — young Christian student, on scholarship, 20
  • Dr. Ekaterina Viktorova — Senior Research Professor of Veterinary Science and Head of School (Science), 38
  • Sister Mary O’Grady — Irish Nun and House Mistress, 42
  • Dark Mare — Black transsexual and gas station attendant, 22



“Omne ignotum pro magnifico.” [All that is unknown is sublime] — Publius Cornelius Tacitus


Two months earlier. At the time of the full moon.

“Oh, wickedness. Oh, wickedness. Lay the unbaptized brat across the black stone altar. Honor the twin-sex goddess. And maketh thy offering … Maketh thy offering … MAKETH THY OFFERING!” cried the insistent sex-witches.

They were almost screaming as Chloe placed the naked child upon the black stone altar. She did as they asked. She moved as if in a complete trance.

Then, she found herself standing above the wriggling baby. Chloe stood with her legs parted, looking down upon “The Offering” as it cried in distress.

The others, Tina and Louise were no longer seated.

All eyes were upon her. They all seemed to be willing her to “Maketh thy offering” … they all were in arms reach … the two sex witches at either side of the black stone altar; Tina and Louise standing at either end. The four of them pounded their sex organs … desperate to reach orgasm as they watched wide-eyed …


Present day. Somewhere in Old Town.

Chas had given up on the local police of Old Town. It had been a while since he’d reported the disappearance of his younger sister, Chloe. The Old Town constabulary seemed completely inept. Useless, he thought.

He’d received a few spasmodic reports from the local police officer, Detective Withe from Old Town Central. It hadn’t been particularly forthcoming. They said, “It’s an ongoing investigation” … “No updates yet” … “Will keep you informed of any breakthroughs” … That sort of thing. It all sounded routine and not particularly reassuring.

He truly missed his sister. A guilty feeling crept into his mind. His devout Christian upbringing always came back to haunt him. His true feelings were never allowed. Incest, in the eye of the Abrahamic God, was a terrible sin. Even to have contemplated such a heinous act, was punishable by damnation.

But there it was. He pretended he didn’t feel a sexual attraction to her. But he simply did. His cock stirred at the thought of her naked young body. So beautiful and unobtainable — she was the forbidden fruit — that he so desperately wanted to taste.

She would think him an evil deviant for wanting to touch her inappropriately. To find his turgid cock deep in her tight little cunt. Sucking upon those cherry-red nipples that crested her soft breasts. Plunging his tongue into her innocent little mouth. But of course in reality he wouldn’t. He couldn’t. Because he couldn’t even find her. She was gone, God knows where. This, he thought, was his fault. This was punishment for his wayward desires. And she had paid the price for his sinful desires.

He’d taken to cruising around on his motorbike, looking for her. The daytime was cool and the streets were not particularly crowded. But of course, he returned to his motel, empty-handed. Chas parked his bike outside the narrow window of his modest motel accommodation. It was cheap. He was tied and frustrated. Sleep didn’t seem to come easy these days. So he’d drowned his sorrows in one too many of those little bottles from the bar fridge, and began to fall into an alcohol-infused stupor.

His head was swimming with thoughts of all that could have gone wrong.

In the absence of the truth, one always assumed the worst. This only compounded Chas’ sorrows. When sleep finally took him — he saw monsters — not the kind you find in fairy tales … but sexually predatory monsters. Psychos. Molesters. Rapists. Murderers. Serial killers. Like that kind of monster that took young girls from their families and sold them as sex slaves in the Middle East … just like lambs to the slaughter.

Chas’ dreamworld was dark and ominous. An evil place.

“Satan be praised,” said the priest.

Chas was blinded in disbelief. It wasn’t what the priest said, it was what he was doing that shocked Chas. The priest stood with his unholy robe open from the front. His erect cock stood firmly upright in his greasy hand. There was a young woman. She was so pretty. She was naked and bound, with her arms stretched across the horizontal of a heavy wooden cross. Her feet were tied too, as she was forced into a kneeling position — before the masturbating priest.

Chas was hypnotized by what he saw because the young woman looked exactly like his sister. Was it his sister? The priest looked down upon her as if she were vermin. He bent his erect cock towards her and began to urinate over her face. His stinking piss splashed over her. The smell of urea filled Chas’ nostrils. The young girl shut her eyes, closed her mouth, and tried to turn away — but the priest’s urine still sprayed all over her. She spat out what she’d unintentionally swallowed. And cried for the priest to stop.

The urinating priest only laughed at her feeble attempts.

“Satan be praised. You dance for Satan’s pleasure here.”

To his dismay, Chas found his cock also turgid. Looking down at himself, he realized that his hand was already stroking himself, faster and faster, as he watched the priest force his ugly-fat cock into the young girl’s mouth. How could he take pleasure in such a thing?

Yet he did.

The young girl twisted and turned to avoid the filthy priest.

“If you don’t pleasure me, slut, I will beat you black and blue. Then I will starve you. And you will die. Do you understand?”

The girl was sobbing deeply.

She nodded and reluctantly opened her mouth. The priest smiled at her reluctant compliance and stuffed his cock into her mouth, and then, further down her gullet. She choked and gagged. The priest showed no mercy. He only laughed and spat in her eyes.

“See Chloe. That wasn’t so difficult. Was it?” roared the priest.

Chas suddenly ejaculated.


Two months earlier. At the time of the full moon.

Chloe walked silently along Old Town Park. The weather was cold for the time of year. The sky was covered in whitish clouds that blocked any direct sun. A gloomy day at best. The trees looked like black skeletal silhouettes against the mottled grey and white. Birds squawked at her intrusion.

Chloe walked on, almost oblivious to her surroundings. Her mind was elsewhere. She felt her soul was in mortal danger. Everything about her crazy nightmares screamed of impeding wickedness. Like a foregone conclusion of a fate worse than death. But as she approached this oncoming precipice … with an underlining sense of fate … she felt as if she was here to do something. As if it were her preternatural destiny, not only unavoidable but seemed to be her reason for being.

How could it be so?

Chloe reflected upon her staunchly religious upbringing. The nuns at the orphanage had been very particular about their upbringing and education. Everything was at the Lord’s pleasure. Their fate was always in his gracious hands. He could be a kind, God. A God of love. A God of benevolence. But go against him, and he could be a cruel God. A God of retribution.

So what was so different? Do as I say or suffer the consequences … Follow my rules or be banished to the fires of eternal hell … An ultimatum as an ultimatum.

She’d never considered it to be a lack of choice before. It was as if there was no free will involved. Eternal damnation was a severe outcome. In Chloe’s mind, she saw this collision of unquestioning religious obedience and a hungry craving for disobedience. Two forces were about to unleash themselves. Two forces enacting upon her.

She stopped and screamed, “Why me?!”

Suddenly aware of her strange outburst, she nervously looked around. Nobody heard her. The birds in the trees had taken flight. They squawked for a few moments and then settled again.

Why not be disobedient?


Two months earlier. At the time of the full moon.

Chloe returned to her lodgings.

She’d seen nothing of her apartment neighbors and was glad of it. How to face Louise and her baby, Harry? How to deal with her closest neighbor, the trans-woman, Tina? How to keep her distance from the two “sex-witches” downstairs?

On her own, everything was pleasantly calm, despite the disturbing contents of her nightmares. Were they nightmares or fantasies? Not reality, she’d told herself, over and over. Just sinful thoughts that meant no real harm.

She remembered the conversation with Louise, who had professed to some undisclosed “strange dreams” after the consumption of the old ladies’ baked goods. She’d ignore any further inducements. No more of those harmless-looking cookies. It would have been laughable if the nightmares hadn’t been so completely vivid.

She opened the door and removed her coat. There was still some time to start her preterm studies. So much to get ahead of. But as she hung her coat, she smelt the appetizing aroma of recently baked goodies. How did they get inside her apartment? The innocent basket looked so unsullied. The red and white tablecloth cradled the scrumptious delights.

She felt hungry just from the sweet fragrance of home cooking.

Before she even had time to think about it, she realized that half the cookies were already gone. That satisfactory feeling of internal warmth filled her empty stomach. What had she just done? She’d only been home for a moment or so it seemed, and already she had done exactly what she’d promised herself that she wouldn’t.

The basket was empty. Chloe blinked with a compulsive need to sleep. So tired. So horny. Her eyelids felt so heavy. A gnawing hypnotic trance of arousal and hypersomnia.


Two months earlier. At the time of the full moon.

And so the nightmarish fantasy returned with vengeance, turning her world upside down and inside out … where evil felt good … as it begin almost immediately … just as it had done the times before.

Chloe found herself exposed and completely naked standing before the heat of the roaring fireplace — the crimson fires of hell itself — for she was sure that she was in the company of night demons. Their omnipresent evil had already made her cunt so wet and demanding sexual attention. Mmmm … she wanted more. Embrace it, she thought. Don’t fight it. Why not be disobedient? Her stomach turned instantly, filling with the tiny butterflies of debauched depravity — already she felt she was at the edge of sinful orgasmic bliss …

Chloe looked down and in her arms lay the naked child, Louise’s baby. It began to cry. Hungry? She guessed. Like the hunger, she felt to do obscene things. Wicked things. She wiped her vaginal fluids over its pouting lips. There. Taste me, she thought.

She held the hungry child to her breast, knowing there’d be no milk, but wanting to feel, once again, the sensation of it sucking upon her erect nipples. The child immediately attached itself to her. Sucking her sensitive nipples in its tiny mouth. Her cunt dripped. She purred as she was rewarded with the deviant pleasure she wanted.

“Oh, wickedness. Oh, wickedness. Lay the unbaptized brat across the black stone altar. Honor the twin-sex goddess. And maketh thy offering … Maketh thy offering … MAKETH THY OFFERING!”

The sex witches both looked as hungry as the child. She heard their bizarre demands. What did it mean? Chloe found herself compelling to do exactly as she was told. Her body moving without conscious thought … hypnotized in a strange enchantment of their devilish corruption.

Now she found herself standing, with her legs parted, looking down upon “The Offering”.

The others, Tina the trans-woman, and Louise (the baby’s mother) were no longer seated in the background. Now all eyes were upon her. Was she their high priestess or just their sex puppet? They all seemed to be willing her to “Maketh thy offering”. Her audience all were in arms reach. They touched her. She wanted their touch. It willed her. It compelled her to do outrageous things.

The two sex witches stood even closer, on either side of the black stone altar, while Tina and Louise were standing at either end. Chloe could see that the four of them were all frantically pounding their sex organs. She liked its vile signal of their enjoyment. There was the accompanying squelching sound of vulgar wet flesh. Their eyes were filled with a depraved, and desperate, need to reach orgasm as they watched wide-eyed.

“Do it …. DO IT! Bring on the quickening,” they growled with their ugly twisted lips, ”… Maketh thy offering!” bellowed the sex-witches in unison.

Chloe grinned broadly as she lowered herself over the struggling naked child. She cared not for its fate. For her, the depraved sexual pleasure was everything. Nothing else mattered. Her vagina was dripping with slimy sexual secretions.

Her audience leaned in closer still.

“That’s it … Do it!”

Chloe squatted down lower and lower until the tip of her perineum hovered only about half an inch above. The sexual exchange of dark energy between her and the offering intensified. Black magick. Her cunt was sizzling.

Chloe’s fingers ravaged her grossly swollen clitoris that itched with deviant pleasure — a dark throbbing pleasure vibrated upwards inside of her — Chloe’s syrupy cunt juices poured over the baby’s upturned face.

“Maketh thy offering …” the sex witches growled over and over, “Maketh thy offering … MAKETH THY OFFERING!”

One sex witch held the struggling infant still until Chloe was seated on top of the unfortunate child. The other sex witch pressed Chloe downwards from the shoulders, encouraging the intense sexual smothering.

“Yes, it’s happening! I feel it! Yes, I feel the quickening …”

Their voices sounded animalistic. Inpatient for what they sort.

“F-fuckkkk … Praise Satan! Praise the Dark Lord!”

Chloe neither understood the words nor cared. She could feel the infant squirming desperately beneath her. This only heightened her unnatural pleasure more. Chloe was caught in the rapture of a powerful orgasm for what seemed to be an eternity.

“Grraaarghhhhh …” she screamed at the top of her lungs.

”YES! YES!” they bellowed, “Oh YES!”

Chloe jerked, wriggled, and twisted in the most intense of ecstasies. She was dancing on top of ‘the offering’. Never before had her orgasm been so extreme. Below her, the baby began to suffocate between her quaking thighs. Chloe’s cunt convulsed as she spat and squirted more cunt juices and urine in her wild ecstasy.

All sanity was lost.

The evil whirlwind of lust and depraved trembled from her head to her toes.

“Rrrrrpppppphhhhh …” the sex witches both suddenly screamed in unison.

Chloe’s climax only intensified until her mind could take no more. Her dream consciousness gave way to complete darkness — the fantasy nightmare came to its abrupt end.


Two months earlier. At the time of the full moon.

The beginning of the end or the end of the beginning. It was too late to pontificate. Illusion. Dream. Nightmare. Fantasy. Pleasure and pain … there was only a distant drifting feeling as one would feel floating upon a cloud.

A dream within a dream. Maybe more of a pure sensation than a dream.

It made absolutely no sense to Chloe. She watched with her inner eye. A baby became two. Like the splitting of an embryo. Two were young ones — they were babies … then infants … then preteen children … and in the blink of an eye, they were young girls. Two young girls. Maybe a little more like young women … the line was hard to see. Was this the quickening? Nothing made sense.

Chloe saw but understood nothing — just a nonsense vision — a crazy fucked-up dream. Devoid of any reality. With no purpose. There was no need to make sense of it … just drifting … endlessly … the strange dark energy fading from blackness to grey. From grey to pale. From pale to haze. From haze to white …

White to nothing.




Present day. In Old Town.

Impatient for results, Chas tried to pick up from where he’d left things. If the police were so inept, it was all up to him now. Whatever happened to her … wherever this led to … he would pursue it … no matter how long it took.

Without evidence of foul play, the police had done very little.

To them, it was just another burnt-out old building in Old Town. And Old Town seemed to be a place filled with many derelict and abandoned sites. They all stank of stale urine and human garbage. Like open sewers filled with used syringes and discarded condoms. Some walls seemed to only be standing as if they were supported entirely by the multiple layers of dirty, fluttering bill posters. It was a filthy place. An awful place. As Chas road his motorbike, he found entire streets and blocks of forsaken buildings — like blackened ghosts that had fallen to the point of being inhabitable through neglect and now only suitable for half-dead drug addicts and the homeless.

Even though Chloe’s case was still officially open, to the police, Chas’ sister, Chloe, was just another girl that decided not to attend her first semester at the Old Town Christian University. Maybe she had taken a different path? And here in Old Town, if someone didn’t want to be found, there wasn’t much that they could do about it — that was beyond police business.

Chas had gone back to the last known address — to the burned-out building where he’d found the distinctive gold crucifix that he was sure had belonged to his missing sister. Someone must have seen something. He looked around for neighbors but found only deserted lots. Someone must know something.

His thoughts were troubling. It had been over two months. He scolded himself for not taking action sooner. Maybe the trail was cold. There was nothing to give any clue to the whereabouts of his younger sister, Chloe.

Chas had taken temporary lodging in a run-down motel not far from where his sister disappeared. It was meager, to say the least. On his return, Chas saw the fuel was low on his motorbike, so he pulled into a shabby-looking gas station. It was late and it looked like the station was about to close for the night. He went inside to pay for the fuel. Behind the sales counter was a skinny Negress. She looked just a little younger than Chas. In her early twenties. What was striking was her completely shaved head. The whites of her eyes and the brightness of her teeth were in sharp contrast to her shiny black skin.

“That will be thirty dollars. You’re lucky. My last customer for the night,” she said, chewing gum.

“Thanks,” replied Chas.

“You’re new here,” she smirked.

Chas looked inquisitively at her assumption.

“You white boys shouldn’t be out late in Old Town. It ain’t safe for you. Looks of wickedness here.”

He didn’t comment.

“Can I put up one of my posters? It’s about my missing sister?”

“Sure. What’s in it for me?”

Chas wasn’t sure what to say.

“Say, you give me twenty dollars and I give you a head job in the back?”

Again, Chas was stunned at this strangely interesting offer. He didn’t like black people. Niggers. But this dark mare was interesting. He’d never been offered oral sex for money before.

“Okay,” he agreed, regretting the words as they left his lips.

“Don’t fret white boy. I put up your poster. You go in the back. Sit on the bed and take your pants off … okay?”

Chas followed the dark mare’s instruction. The backroom was simple but clean. The bed was more like a bunk intended for the shift workers in the gas station albeit the smell of gasoline. He sat down and pulled his pants down.

The dark mare appeared. She sank to her knees and gobbled his stiff cock. Her black lips encircled his cock head, creating an exquisite suction, while her slender hand gripped his shaft and stroked his to a fast and furious. Chas closed his eyes. He immediately imagined the dream about his younger sister being bound. It was him forcing her to suck him off — not the priest. How exquisite. This incestuous thought brought him to a powerful orgasm. As Chas came in her mouth, the dark mare swallowed all his semen. No wasting a drop.

“There white boy,” she said matter-of-factly, “Let me give you some advice. If your little sister is missing in Old Town — she probably will never be seen again — there are fuckin’ demons here. Real demons.”

“But, what about the Old Town Christian University?” Chas asked.

The dark mare laughed.

“It’s all an evil fuckin’ trick. They lure the Christians here. The demons soon have them on their knees, like me, sucking cocks like whores. Offering their mouths and asses as they dance for Satan’s pleasure …” the dark mare replied.

“She is young and gullible.”

“And, you have sexual thoughts about her.”

Chas went to deny this but was cut short.

“I know these things … don’t worry … your dirty little secret is safe with me. Maybe you belong in Old Town after all?”

Chas was cottonmouth for a moment.

“You’re … not female are you?”

“Well Mister … If you like my kind, try a club down on the corner of fuckin’ Mammon and Belphegor … it’s called “The Fucktory” … like a factory, but with attitude,” the dark mare neither confirmed nor denied Chas’ assertion.

“The street names … they’re named after demons?”

“Yes, they think it’s so fuckin’ funny, right? The demons call their street names after themselves. It’s pretty fucked up, man!”

Chas pulled his pants up. And walked back out onto the gas station forecourt. The lights inside were turned off for the night. He got on his motorbike and made his way back to the motel.


Present day. Back at the motel.

Back at the motel, Chas showered. Alone, he laid down to rest. It had been a long and surprising day. His mind was swimming with a mixture of guilt and curiosity. All this talk about demons and dancing for Satan’s pleasure. He thought about the dark mare — he’d not quite admitted his interest in her … nigger sex … in her suggestion about the club … “her kind” sounded strange, coming from such a conservative background.

He put Chloe’s crucifix on and held it next to his heart, praying for God’s forgiveness. Was God punishing his family? First, his parents had been taken … now his sister. Or maybe she’d somehow sensed his sexual interest in her (from a very early age) and had done something untoward?

Chas couldn’t remember when it happened, he’d fallen asleep for a while, but awake with the urge to pee.

His cock had hardened and without even really thinking about it he began to masturbate himself. Stroking his piss-stiff cock, he imagined what it would be like to have a threesome with the black transsexual and his young sister.

His bladder ached and some piss leaked through his fingers. It was a peculiar sensation. He rubbed the wetness over his body. There was a strange delight in the smell of his piss on his skin. He moaned to himself as he thought about pissing over his sister’s sweet young face. Forcing her to open her mouth and drink his hot salty piss. He pissed more over his stomach and chest. Urine sprinkled over the crucifix that sat upon his chest. It seemed to react to his depraved behavior. The feeling of degrading Christ, made his whole body, suddenly and without warning, jerk and convulse, as he sprayed his watery semen over his face and chest.


Two months earlier. After Chloe’s nightmare.

They looked so elegant. Tall and elegant. Taller than Chloe.

It had been only a fleeting moment — she’d spied them on the ground floor of the apartment building, as they had walked into the ground floor apartment. It was as if they owned the place. Chloe had overheard them laughing about something.

“We’ll have to do something about that,” one of them said to the other.

“Soon. We still have much to do,” replied the other.

It seemed the crazy old ladies had gone. They’d left without saying goodbye. One day they were there and the next they were gone. Chloe felt strangely relieved by it. No more sex witches. No more evil cookies. No more disturbing nightmares. But, in the same instance, she had been affected by it. Changed by it. She could no longer claim her innocence in her participation in these rather mystic events — be they dreams, nightmares, or sexual fantasies.

The new neighbors, that occupied the ground-floor, seemed to be the antithesis of these old wrinkly hags. She remember that day in the laundry when Louise had described them as, “Two old dykes on the floor above us,” as she pointed upwards to their apartment.

Chloe had only caught a glimpse of them both. The new occupants of the ground-floor apartment appeared to be attractive females in their early twenties. Both of them were chic. Both were tall, long-legged, slender, with almost flat chests — just like fashionistas. One was blond and the other brunette. The blond was obviously fake as her hair was platinum white — but that seemed to only make her more sensational. Chloe immediately felt a strange and explainable pang of jealousy. She’d admired this type of powerful woman in magazines and advertising, knowing she’d never be like them.

Chloe wondered what they would do to the old ladies’ apartment. It had been an eclectic style of strange things that made the place the look of an antique fair during Halloween. It was a place suitable for a sex witch. She shook her head at the thought of the black goat in the backyard. Such an ugly thing. She shivered at the thought of what it had done to her in one of her vivid nightmares.

No, she couldn’t imagine the two vogue women living in a place like that.

But then again, did she want it to be over? No more nightmarish fantasies? Did she not secretly enjoy the vulgar person that she’d become? So sinful … so disobedient … allowing herself to be seduced by demons in her nightmares … but equally participating and enjoying the wickedness of their perverted games.


Two months earlier. After Chloe’s nightmare.

It had been a few days since she’d seen the likes of the other tenants. And then she bumped into Louise. She was smoking a cigarette on the veranda of the apartment block. Smoking and babies were not a good mixture, she thought to herself.

“Hi,” said Chloe as she sat down next to Louise.

Louise gestured as if offering Chloe a smoke. She shook her head but smiled at her offer.

“You’re looking lovely today,” said Louise butting her cigarette out and flicking the butt over the veranda.

“Thanks. How’s Harry?”

“Harry who?”

“Harry? Harry! Your newborn baby?”

“Baby?” responded a perplexed Louise.

Chloe stopped herself mid-sentence, as just then, the two new tenants walked out of the front door and down the stairs into the street below together with Tina. They all looked inseparable. Loudly laughing and linking arms. One was peroxide blond and the other a brunette with bright red streaks. They looked like three Goth sisters going out on the town together. What was Tina up to? Chloe knew that Tina wasn’t a real woman. It was obvious by their demeanor that they had all become fast friends … or maybe kinky lovers?

As Chloe watched from the veranda, the woman with platinum hair, turned and looked up directly at her and smiled broadly. It seemed to be a knowing smile — a teasing smile? Chloe struggled to decipher its exact meaning. Maybe she’d seen Chloe on the stairs? No, it wasn’t that kind of look. It seemed to be more cunning than that. More devious — maybe she was just overthinking the whole thing — it felt as if she saw Chloe’s attraction to them both.

It immediately reminded her of the insatiability of the sex witch, Ms. Thelma. A guilty shiver passed through her spine at the thought of those twisted old sex witches … how, in her freaky dream, she’d been manipulated to offer a baby to the devil … Louise’s baby. Harry.

The thought evaporated as the woman turned away as they strolled down Wellington Street, away from the apartment towards the red-light district. The three of them walked arm-in-arm. What was bothering Chloe about them? Something was off? Whatever it was, it left Chloe with that evil horny feeling again. A dull sensation in her guts. She imagined them in a threesome. The trans-woman fucking them. So dirty and raw. Another stab of wantonness that made her cunt moisten.

“Are you saying that I look fat? Do you mean I look pregnant?”

“What? No of course not Louise. I think you’re perfect.”

Louise seemed unconvinced by Chloe’s flattery. Instead, she placed her hand on the inside of Chloe’s thigh, close to the wet patch in her panties. Chloe suddenly felt very horny.

Louise seemed to detect Chloe’s sexual arousal. Her hand caressed dangerously close to Chloe’s damp crutch. Chloe’s hand moved to cover Louise’s. No, to prevent her, but to move her fingers directly over her soaked camel toe. She let out a gentle, almost undetectable moan.

Louise didn’t pull away either but seemed to accept Chloe’s sexual advances.

“Oh! Are you coming onto me?” Louise quivered, “It’s okay … I mean … I like it. I mean, I like you too. It’s a bit public here. Why don’t we go upstairs to my apartment?”


Two months earlier. The night after.

Chloe lay next to Louise.

They were both still naked from their love play. It was, in fact, Chloe’s first-ever sexual encounter. She’d never been with a man or a woman — despite the depravity of her nightmarish dreams — this had been very new. The very idea of lesbianism ran against the grain of her religious belief system … but somehow that didn’t seem to be a problem. Disobedience. She’d accepted it. Enjoyed it.

Louise had been gentle and loving … slowly, the two of them had become more inflamed in passion. The sex had become more raunchy and demanding. Soon, Chloe realized that they’d both harbored these hidden desires for each other. In no time, they were naked, lying against each other. Chloe licked feverishly at Louise’s soaking wet snatch, sucking at her labia and tongue-fucking her greasy cunt hole.

Secretly, she imagined the two sex witches watching them, encouraging their unnatural and sinful congress — this immediately intensified Chloe’s pleasure. There was some time about it … this crazy fucked-up thing. Why was she so impassioned by their evil voyeurism? It was as if the darkness attracted her … drew her to it .. yes, sex with Louise was nice … but she could see herself quickly becoming bored without this nasty twist to their raunch. Was it wrong? Was she becoming such a pervert in her mind, that she immediately demanded depravity?


She remembered clearly as if it had happened, the first time she’d eaten the sex-witches cookies … how her dreams seemed to amplify her enjoyment of debauched pleasure …. Yes, she’d loved seeing young Louise naked, her body looked disproportionate — so petite, but with huge milk-laden breasts — intended for her naked child … but that wasn’t the buzz … it was how she willfully discarded her child (throwing it aside) … leaving it to cry incessantly … while she shared her “mother’s milk” with her perverted lover. There seemed to be an unnatural enjoyment of suffering … was this what the ugly sex witches meant by “dancing for Satan’s pleasure”?

It made Chloe feel so hot.

During their foreplay, Chloe and Louise had explored each other’s bodies intimately. And this had, in a way, answered the question on Chloe’s mind. Though the answer itself just led to further, even more bizarre questions. Louise was not lactating. Sucking and playing with her generous young breasts had been a beautiful experience for Chloe. It had been everything that she’d imagined — but there had been no milk involved. A disappointment, maybe. But when Chloe brought up the topic of her child, Louise seemed ignorant.

While Louise slept deeply, after their love play, Chloe had taken the opportunity to look around her apartment. A feminine place. A clean and orderly place. But there was no evidence of her ever having a child. No bassinet, no toys, no baby clothes, no nappies, no baby food, no change table … nothing. It was as if Harry had never existed. But how could that be? And yet despite the evidence to the contrary, Chloe knew differently or did she? What had been the nightmare and what had been real?

She wanted desperately to ask Louise about it, but held back, knowing what had happened in her vivid nightmares … nightmares where she had enjoyed doing something so vile and evil … she shuddered at the very thought of it. The best plan would be to just wait and see. It was as if the reality of her conscious world and her unconscious dreams had somehow got mixed up or inverted … Was she losing her mind?

A memory of that darkly sexual nightmare crept back into her consciousness. As she stood over the child, she felt a strange power. A wickedness that, even now, seemed to make her orgasmically charged. She should have felt shame. She should have felt guilt. But she didn’t. The sensations she’d experienced made her incredibly wet. She felt an overwhelming desire to masturbate — masturbate over her new lover’s face.


Two months earlier. The night after.

“Hi Chloe,” said Tina, “I was looking for you.”

“You were?”

Tina looked like she’d been at the gym. The cute trans-girl was dressed in a tiny yellow sports bra top with matching tight sweatpants. Her hair was pulled up in a ponytail with a bright pink scrunchy. Chloe thought Tina looked so sexy.

“Yer. Was organizing a little get-together with a couple of friends later this evening at my flat. Wanted to know if you’d join us for a drink … I mean, if you’re too busy with your studies if that’s okay?”

“Hey yer … I’d like that,” replied Chloe, “Anyone I know?”

Chloe was already checking out the shadowy hint of a bulge in Tina’s bright yellow sweats. She’d been thinking about Tina’s naughty girl-cock for a while … dreaming about sucking it until it spurted her delicious girl-cum all over her face. Yummy, she thought … so many delightful pleasures to experience with Tina.

“No, they’re new around here.”




Present day. After dark in Old Town.

Chas had thought a lot about what he’d learned about Old Town. He’d come to realize that it wasn’t the place he’d thought it was. There was something terrible, evil, and sick about it all. His experience with the dark mare and her suggestion about a visitation to “Club Fucktory” or whatever it was called, also troubled him — as there was an allure to a place like that, that he was afraid to admit to himself.

On the positive side, there had been a clue. A real clue. Chas had been busy posting bills of his sister’s face with the words, “Missing” and “Reward for any information” together with his cell phone number. He’d hoped his efforts would have brought some attention to her disappearance. At least it was more than the police were doing.

It was about two days after he’d begun this tiring process that it seemed to yield a result. He got a message on his cell … it was from a woman, calling herself Tina. What was important here, was that it was a positive clue. There was no surname … just Tina. The message inquired about the quantum of the reward offered for information but didn’t disclose any further information. Chas had messaged back that the reward would be ten grand. He lied. He didn’t have ten grand. But what else could he do? It was shortly after that Tina messaged him to meet face-to-face and to bring the money. The message said to meet at “The Fucktory” … a coincidence?

The short light of the autumn day gave way to the neon night.

That evening, close to the appointed time, Chas found himself on the corner of Mammon and Belphegor. It was the place described by the dark mare. The transgender bar. “Club Fucktory” was right in the heart of what appeared to be Old Town’s extensive red-light district. It was surrounded by literally dozens of strip clubs, sleazy joints, brothels, and massage parlors.

Chas had parked his motorbike in a small alleyway and made the rest of the journey on foot. Unlike the rest of the decrepit Old Town, here under the cover of the cloudless night, the red-light district was alive with unambiguous neon signs that advertised all kinds of kinks, perversions, and other unsavory thrills that were on offer.

Under this neon enclave there seemed to be a substantive throng of secretive-looking people — all keeping to themselves, yet like Chas seemed to be hunting for something. What was he looking for? His sister? Would she be here, he’d hoped not.

The hookers stood out from the crowd and drew attention to themselves as they paraded up and down the curbs, looking for cars with their windows down. It was all business. All pleasure.

“Hey you,” a young streetwalker called out, trying to get Chas’ attention.

Chas ignored her and walked towards the club entry.

“So, you don’t like real gurls …” she accused.

Chas walked into the club. It was wall-to-wall people. Throbbing music and flashing lights. How the fuck was he supposed to find this Tina?


Two months earlier.

Chloe arrived exactly on time. She knocked a little nervously on the door of Tina’s third-floor apartment.

Tina opened it. Her transgender eyes twinkled as she smiled broadly and welcomed Chloe inside. She was dressed in a light chiffon top that was almost completely translucent. Chloe tried not to stare at her coin-sized nipples. They looked so delightful and suckable. Around her delicate neck, Tina wore a black choker with a shiny inverted cross. Her slutty little ensemble was completed with a very short plaid shirt, stockings, and stilettos. Chloe felt under-dressed unflattering top, skirt, and flats.

“It’s Chloe, everyone!” Announced Tina, excitedly.

Chloe had never been inside Tina’s place before. The first thing she noticed was all the candles that lit the dark red walls. Burgundy velvet curtains cover the windows. Even the floor was covered in thick red throw-rugs. The entire theme of Tina’s decor seemed to be like a kind of vampiric blood.

Chloe bit her lip. Her naughty little cunt was already wet and throbbing thinking about shecock.

Sitting across from each other, on the two long low-backed couches, were the new tenants. Chloe would have described their dress sense as gothic-slut. Dark eyeliner. Black lipstick. One was a peroxide blond and the other was a brunette (with bright red highlights). Their long hair was tied in ponytails, giving them an almost juvenile appearance. It was like a kids’ Halloween party … only Chloe sensed something far more interesting. They were both sipping on what appeared to be Bloody Marys.

In the background, Chloe heard the sound of a pagan drumming. The dull throbbing beat was slow and repetitive.

“Well … this is Chloe from the antic!” said the peroxide blond.

It was the same tall woman that had looked her in the eye when Chloe had spied them out on the street.

“Come and sit next to me,” said the brunette, as if it were a game.

“Tina, darling, get Chloe one of our special drinks. We need to celebrate our return,” said the blond.

Return? It was a somehow disconcerting term. Return from where? Had they been away? Chloe was captivated. She looked at these strange women, and all she imagined was lust. Yes. She found it hard to concentrate on anything but sex. Her cunt throbbed. She shook her head, trying to get back to some kind of normality. But she seemed to be losing the battle.

It seemed strange that neither of them introduced themselves. Yet things were already becoming familiar. Chloe was content not to ask. She sat next to the brunette, whose arms were spread out along the back of the couch so that Chloe found the brunette’s hand soon caressed her shoulders. It felt tingling. The fact that she accepted the woman’s touch, made the brunette grin evilly.

“You’re so pretty,” said the brunette, “Don’t you think?”

“Yes, she is,” cooed the blond, “Tina, you never told us that our neighbor is so fucking hot.”

Tina arrived back with more drinks. Strange drinks. Chloe drank it in almost one gulp.

“Oo! Chloe. Steady now. Tina’s cocktails are very potent.”

“Stop being a party pooper,” said the blond, “Top her up!”

Tina did.

Yes. Tina’s drink was potent. Chloe’s head began to spin a little under the influence. She watched Tina sit down next to the blond. They kissed open mouths. The blond’s eyes seemed to focus on Chloe, even though her tongue seemed to be preoccupied with Tina’s mouth. Her hand was on Tina’s upper thigh, pushing the trans-woman’s shirt high enough to show that she wore nothing below. Chloe tried not to stare, but it was obvious that the blond was openly fondling Tina’s erection beneath the flimsy plaid skirt.

The brunette’s hand began stroking Chloe’s bare neck. Electric energy flowed between them. Chloe did not attempt to stop her. Instead, she found her hand rubbing the inside of the brunette’s thigh.

“I like that,” the brunette encouraged.

The brunette leaned into Chloe’s neck so that her lips touched Chloe’s earlobes. Her voice was deep and raspy (almost masculine).

“I think they’re putting on a show for us,” said the brunette, “They dance for Satan’s pleasure!”

Yes, it was like a show. A kind of voyeur’s kinky sex show. The brunette’s whispered words sounded like an echo — something she’d heard before in a distance nightmare.

Right before Chloe’s eyes, the peroxide blond lifted Tina’s short skirt, so that the trans-girl’s cock popped right out and pointed upright to attention. Chloe’s eyes widened at its length. It looked inflamed, its veins throbbing with lusty blood. The fingers of the blond’s right hand began stroking the trans-woman while they continued to tongue-kiss passionately. Stroking rhythmically up and down, slowly at first, but increasing in tempo with the sound of the pagan beat. The blond never broke her stare from Chloe the entire time.

“It’s so sinful, don’t you think?” asked the brunette, who didn’t wait for an answer.

The brunette’s hand had slipped under Chloe’s loose skirt and her fingers had discovered Chloe’s damp underwear. Without missing a heartbeat, the brunette’s fingers were inside her, touching her clit and penetrating her soaking snatch.

Chloe’s mouth hung open. She was spellbound as she watch the peroxide blond descend upon Tina’s cock, taking it into her slutty mouth, tonguing around the piss-slit; then sucking at her cock head first; before sliding the entire length into her gullet.

Tina‘s groin bounced upwards into the blond’s mouth while groaning unabated.

“Praise be to Satan,” said the brunette, “Say it …”

“Praise be to Satan,” repeated Chloe, as the brunette’s fingers stabbed into her dripping cunt.

”That’s it, Chloe … see how much pleasure there is in worshiping Satan.”

The brunette gently turned Chloe’s face and kissed her mouth. Chloe felt the brunette’s split tongue for the first time as it explored her willing mouth. It was the kiss of the serpent. As they kissed, Chloe’s hand pressed against the brunette’s groin to discover a sizeable bulge where her cunt should have been.

“Oh Chloe, are you ready darling?” asked the brunette.


Two months earlier. The night after.

Chloe’s body felt battered. She’d been fucked in all her holes by some sizeable cocks. The discovery of the brunette’s cock-like clit was only the beginning. The peroxide blonde was almost identical. They were as big as Tina’s shemale endowment. Chloe at some point had been their fuck toy, spit-roasting and double-penetrated. They’d all fucked her raw. Over and over. Until she was more like a rag-doll between them. She’d been soaked in their hermaphroditic juices and Tina’s plentiful semen.

She’d limped back to her apartment only to find Louise waiting for her there. She’d forgotten that she’d given Louise her key. Chloe didn’t explain anything. She took a long shower and lay in bed naked next to Louise. They held each other kisses romantically.

Whatever was in these special drinks had screwed with Chloe’s mind. It wasn’t so dissimilar to the effect of the old ladies’ baked cookies. Those damnable sex witches and their delicious aphrodisiacs. Like before, her restless dreaming and horniness returned with a vengeance. An exotic sleep took her down. Down into the depths of depravity.

In her dream, she found herself back in Tina’s apartment.

The now familiar blood-red walls seemed to drip with an ancient evil passion. Ritualistic. The persistent drum beat seemed to match the racing of her heart. Its rhythm made her hips pump. Tina didn’t seem to be there. It was only the peroxide blond and brunette with the bright red highlights. They were both naked. Chloe was naked too. Chloe sat between them on the low back couch as they touched her intimately. The brunette stroked her back and fondled her neckline, stroking her with needy fingers.

The flames from the fireplace burned brightly, reminding her of the sex witches.

The brunette kissed her mouth. Then the peroxide blonde kissed her mouth. They both sucked on her small nipples, teasing her cunt to a soaking mess. She needed fingers in her cunt. They continued to take turns kissing her, open-mouthed with their serpent-like tongues. Chloe reached out and gripped their meaty cocks. She began slowly stroking their huge cock-like clits. They were sexy. They were evil. She knew she was playing with fire … but she wanted them to use her … abuse her. She was a mouse between two hungry cats. They were about to devour her — like it or not.

“There is a reason you’re here,” said the brunette, “And why you must learn to serve Satan with us.”

The brunette just smiled …

“I don’t understand,” lied Chloe.

But of course, she understood. She had understood for a while. She’d realized it, during the orgy. She knew exactly who they were. She realized the purpose of the quickening. The dream in which she willingly participated in the human sacrifice of the child. She had offered the soul of the child to them.

The peroxide blond was, of course, Harriott. The brunette was Thelma. The old sex witches had somehow transformed. She vaguely remembered their transformation. One life snuffed. One unbaptized soul consumed. Then … One became two. Two evil beings revitalized. It was so twisted and evil. They were still sex witches — but now looked decades younger.

Thelma got up from the low-back couch and sat between Chloe’s legs on the floor. She held Chloe’s thighs apart. She stroked the sensitive skin around Chloe’s cunt. Her vagina dripped with horniness. Her hips bucked as the young sex witch began licking her out. Her expert mouth kissed her way up Chloe’s inner thighs until they reached her honeypot. The sex witch’s split tongue curved around Chloe’s sensitive clitoris as it stood forth from its hood.

Pleasure shot through Chloe’s aching body. Her clitoris literally hummed.

“Have you noticed how your clitoris has grown?” asked Harriott.

Chloe hadn’t noticed until that moment. And yes, it certainly looked more pronounced than normal. As Thelma’s tongue twisted around it, the pleasure increase exponentially.

“Oh, oh, oh, FUCK! That’s so good!” she groaned.

Her clitoris already looked like a small but very erect cock. Thelma continued to pleasure her as Harriott spoke.

“So now you know,” said Harriott as she toyed with Chloe’s breasts, “And you have a choice to make.”

Yes, Chloe was aware of it. Chloe had a choice to make. But the choice had already been made.

“Your scholarship at the Old Town Christian University … you must understand that it was our doing … well, not Thelma or myself … but there are other demons that hunt in Old Town … it is one of our favorite hunting grounds. We have given you a new name — you will be known as ‘Eve’ and when you attend, we have made arrangements for you to stay in the special university dorms.

“There will be many other young men and women, all Christian weaklings drawn from everywhere … their scholarships are the beginning of their journey into eternal darkness. Now that you have proven yourself … there will be many for you corrupt and bring to us. Bring to Satan. They must all dance for Satan’s pleasure.”

Chloe was close to her climax. She heard Harriott’s words but was caught in the mist in orgasmic delight.




If you have enjoyed this story or would like to offer praise to the author, who is always hungry for encouragement and affirmation, please email xpanther2019@protonmail.com