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: Black Magic, Witchcraft, Satanic, Snuff/Violence/Murder, Abuse, Vodou, Corruption, Evil, Devil Worship, NC, Sexual Sin, Sex Demons, Orgy, BDSM, Young, Pedophilia, Incest.

XP NOTES: Loosely based on one of my favorite stories (The Devil’s Advocate) — Justice was my opportunity to explore the ideas and themes that I thought about whilst watching the 1997 movie; reading the screenplay by Jonathan Lemkin and Tony Gilroy; and book by Andrew Neiderman of the same name. If you haven’t seen it or read it — It is a great story. Justice pays homage in part to all of these — but needs to stand its own ground as a tale of darkness and evil.

THANKS: To BG for not only proofreading this 26,000-word giant — but also for his critical commentary to help me improve the script.

CREATED: 22.01.2021 (V40) / REVISITED: 29.07.2023

Justice 2 (chapters 4 – 6)


Kevin Swift is a lawyer from Small Town. He’s very good at his job. In fact, he has never lost a case. In the courtroom, he has been faultless. After winning an amazing court battle, he becomes sought after by a large multinational law firm. They offer him a job and he and his wife move to Big Town and are soon swept up in the fairy-tale lifestyle of the rich, famous, and powerful. His new employer Milton Maximus — a legal genius himself — sets Kevin at work to free some of the most evil criminals possible. Not everything is as it seems. Soon Kevin finds he is making choices that impact both his relationship and his conscience. Though Kevin is far from being a boy scout, he is forced to ask what is the true nature of Justice, if not to find the truth. But Justice is blind, and the truth may be more evil and wicked than Kevin ever imagined.


Justice is the eleventh card of the Major Arcana — it represents accountability, objectivity, and outcomes — blind to sentiment and emotions and is focused on purely cause and effect. In sexuality, it is about asceticism. The sword aloft is in fact a phallic symbol. Like the donning of the strap-on — it is the equalizer that levels the playing field. Justice is depicted as both male and female. If female, she is depicted in a nun’s habit. As a male, Justice has a masculine face with long, feminine hair, rendering an androgynous quality to this symbol. The dual-sexuality of Justice depicts balance and impartiality. Justice sits enthroned between two pillars that represent the finite differences between right and wrong, good and evil, life and death.


  • Kevin Swift — Protagonist, small-town defense attorney, 28
  • Mary Ann Swift — Kevin’s wife, 26
  • Shirley Mills — Pedophile defendant, 29
  • Barbie — Victim of abuse, 12
  • Lee Heath— Black lawyer at Maximas Corp, demon, 35
  • Alice Swift — Kevin’s religious mother, 44
  • Charlotte Stewart — Receptionist/Administrator Maximas Corp, 22
  • Christabella Andreoli — Lawyer at Maximas Corp, Kevin’s step sister, 28
  • Nikki Capone — Assistant to Milton Maximus, transgender, demon, 28
  • Milton Maximus — Chairman of Maximas Corp — AKA Satan, 60
  • Eddie Bates — Managing Partner of Maximas Corp, 55
  • Jackie Heath — Black, beautiful, wife of Leamon Health, demon, 30
  • Dr Phillipe Moyez — Black, Vodou Priest, Leader of Cartel, 48
  • Sandra Bates — Eddie’s wife, 36
  • William Bael— Billionaire developer, accused of triple murder, 52
  • Margaret Stains— William Bael’s secretary, 29
  • Louise Bael — William Bael’s stepdaughter, 14
  • Samuel Weaver — Special Prosecutor from District Attorney’s Office, 45
  • Chedeline Dorvil — Black, executive in Port-Au-Pearl, shemale, 28
  • Wyclef Duval – Black, Counsel for Dr. Phillips Moyez’s Cartel, 50


“But have renounced the hidden things of dishonesty, not walking in craftiness, nor handling the word of God deceitfully; but by manifestation of the truth commending ourselves to every man’s conscience in the sight of God. But if our gospel is hidden, it is hidden to them that are lost: In whom the god of this world hath blinded the minds of them which believe not, lest the light of the glorious gospel of Christ, who is the image of God, should shine unto them.” — 2 Corinthians chapter 4 verses 1 to 4

It was Friday the thirteenth. Milton had invited Mary Ann and me to a private party at his penthouse. We’d heard that his parties were always the talk of the town — everyone wanted to be on the invite list and Milton had said that we were his guests of honor. The other VIPs would-be politicians, judges, billionaires, celebrities, and even the District Attorney.

Jackie had helped Mary Ann dress for the occasion. I was eager to see how Milton Maximus lived — even his name suggested over-indulgence. Lee had mentioned that Milton’s parties could get a little wild and outrageous; and that we should be prepared for a shock or two. He made a joke about not drinking the punch — which we all laughed at.

The four of us took the special express elevator to the top floor. I couldn’t believe it — but Jackie’s outfit was almost see-through. I thought Lee might have been a little surprised, but he wasn’t. He even complimented her on it. She was definitely a very sexy Negress. Looking at her bullet-hard nipples and dark brown aureola through the sheer material gave me an instant hard-on. In contrast, Mary Ann looked sheepish — like the Virgin Mary.

The lift doors opened inside Milton’s plush, double-volume, lobby. The ceiling must have been twenty feet above us. More like a hotel ballroom than a lobby. The design was occult-meets-African ethics. A bizarre combination — it was almost a “museum” in its feeling.

As we entered, I got a true sense of how opulent it all was — the entry statement was a huge black marble fountain filled with sculptured nymphs that frolicked naked in the cascading water. Lit from beneath the waterline, the water had a red hue. It looked like a boiling cauldron of blood. Actually dark crimson seemed to be the most dominant color throughout the entire apartment — drapes, walls, ceiling, furnishings, and floors.

Everywhere I looked there were groups of beautiful people. All dressed to impress. All the men were in black-tie — while all the women seemed to be in some kind of competition to be the most outrageous or to simply wear the least or to reveal the most.

There was a deejay pumping out a heavy beat with a flashing light show over a small dance floor that was positioned in front of a low podium where a grand piano had been placed.

As we advanced into the party proper — Milton made a beeline across the crowded room to meet us.

“A fantastic result Kevin,” Milton patted me hard on the shoulder, “Dr. Moyez was supremely happy with the verdict. Your first victory for Maximus! We’re all very proud of you!” Milton gushed as he pumped my right hand in his. “And … And this must be the beautiful Mary Ann?? You look absolutely gorgeous my dear.”

Mary Ann blushed at all the attention.

“Jackie … l love the new outfit .. it shows off your true native charm,” complimented Milton, as he shook Lee’s hand in a welcoming gesture, “Please help yourselves — wine, women, song — whatever your sin … now Mary Ann, I believe you’re an accomplished pianist?”

Mary Ann blushed again.

“I have played a little,” she ventured timidly.

“Well, would you do us the honor?” Milton asked, pointing to the low stage.

“A little out of my league,” Mary Ann responded nervously.

“Nothing of the sort,” said Milton, taking her by the hand and leading her up onto the stage before she had another opportunity to object.

“Ladies and Gentlemen … could I please have your undivided attention for a moment … tonight we celebrate a great victory and welcome a new member to the Maximus family.” Milton gestured towards where I was standing and everyone turned as if on cue. “Kevin Swift. Swift by name. Swift by justice. Join me in welcoming him and his adorable wife, Mary Ann — who has so kindly agreed to entertain us tonight. A round of applause for Kevin … and for Mary Ann — welcome to Maximus.”

Dr. Moyez stood next to me. “I have a gift for you, Mr. Swift. I have arranged for it to be sent to your apartment. I hope you will indulge me in this sincere gesture?”

“Thank you, I am sure to appreciate your gift,” I said (thinking about how it felt to cum so hard in the mouth of one of his young mambos).

Their oral skills were certainly something to enjoy.

“And you must come by more often to my temple. You are most welcome among us. My mambos were asking after you.”


She played beautifully. Everybody stopped. There was silence throughout the room as her dainty fingers pressed the ivory. I didn’t recognize the tune. Not one of her regulars. It sounded more theatrical, almost demonized in its dramatic intensity. But it brought tears to my eyes.

I had been drinking the punch. Lots of it. Someone had said that I should be careful about how much of it I drank — jokingly saying that they were sure Milton poisoned it with some kind of a sexual drug. I had laughed off the comment and had drunk another three or four rounds.

But now I needed fresh air, so I walked out onto the balcony. It was there, I noticed Christabella. She looked stunning. Beautiful. Sexy. A goddess. Her daring outfit was even more sheer than Jackie’s and she made no attempt to hide her boyish flat chest and puffy red nipples.

“You live here too?” I asked daringly as she looked across the twinkling lights of the Big Town cityscape.

”No. I live downtown. This apartment block is only for the married ones,” she replied as she turned to face me, “Congratulations on your verdict. Dr. Moyez was elated. He has brought our firm quite a bit of business. Milton will be very pleased.”

”I really don’t know much about what he does.”

“Probably better that way,” she added, “All I know is that he is important to Milton, so that makes him important to the firm.”

“He said something about spiritual currency?” I asked.

“In Vodou, they make such offering in return for favors from their evil spirits.” replied Christabella, “Funny that they tried to prosecute him for the ritual sacrifice of a goat — back in Port-Au-Pearl, I have heard rumors they do much, much more.”

“Are you saying they sacrifice … humans?”

Christabella grinned evilly.

“They call it the goat with no horns,” she added as if it were something that she could get off on, “He likes them young. They’re usually late-term pregnancies when he makes his offerings for spiritual currency,” she laughed — “A joke … Kevin … a JOKE!”

I pretended to laugh, but somehow, after being in his subterranean lair, I could believe every word she said to be true.

Just then, Milton appeared. He was grinning at the pair of us as if he’d caught us doing something illicit — even though nothing had happened … I knew I had wanted to kiss her desperately. Proverbs chapter 24 verse 9, jumped into my head — “The thought of sin is sin before it comes into action; the motions of sin in the mind, the workings of corrupt nature in the heart, the sinful desires of the flesh and of the mind” …

“Do you know what I see?” said Milton extending his arms outwards in a mellow-dramatic way, “I see the future of this firm,” he put his hands around us both and pulled us together in a family-like embrace.

Nikki appeared in the doorway of the balcony.

“Milton,” she said soberly in her sexy baritone voice, “We have a small crisis. Can you meet upstairs? I have already called Eddie and Lee.”

All of a sudden, I wasn’t feeling so good. In fact, I felt an overwhelming sensation of nausea and slumped. Was it the punch? Was it all just too much for me to take?

”Sorry,” I apologized, “I … I need to sit down for a while.”

“Nikki,” said Milton, his voice seeming to vibrant and echo in my head, “Kevin … needs to lay down. Take him … him … to … to …the … the … Baphomet … Baphomet … Baphomet … room … room … room … room … m … m … m …”


My head was definitely spinning. Fuck that punch! What the hell was in it?

I felt Nikki’s sexy young body pressed against mine as she helped me walk away from the others. I didn’t say much. In fact, I couldn’t say anything. The world was still spinning slowly, firstly clockwise and then again, anti-clockwise, as we entered the darkened room. The Baphomet room. Crimson red carpet, walls, and ornate furnishings — antique maybe? The ambient sounds of the lively party outside became dimmer, and more distant (with the closing and locking of the door). Inside, the Baphomet room was warmly lit with many candles. Nikki helped me to lie down on the erotically carved couch.

In the iridescent light, I caught the imposing image of an oversized painting hanging on the adjacent wall. It depicted a bizarre creature with the head and hind legs of a male goat; but with small feminine breasts; and an erect penis rising upwards from between its caprine legs. The creature’s arms (one said “Solve et” and the other said “Coogula”) were outstretched as it seemed to make a strange ritualistic gesture. There was a dull flame emitting from above its ugly scowling features. I’d seen something similar before — it was demonic but oddly sexual. A very strange piece of art to display on the wall, I thought to myself.

Nikki was now in the process of undressing me. She saw that I was looking at the painting. I wasn’t sure why it was important to be undressed — as I just needed to lay down and close my eyes for a moment. All I could think about was how “unreal” everything felt.

”Beautiful … isssssn’t … ittttt,” her voice elongated and echoed in my lucid mind.

I felt her purposeful fingers touching my genitals. My cock stirred in response. Soon I was fully erect. The sense of cheating on Mary Ann and my marriage seemed to numb further with every passing moment. I looked up at the mocking Baphomet. Now Nikki was masturbating me and I felt helpless to participate. I moaned out loud, but was halfway between — immersed in a dream or still hanging onto an even stranger reality?

I looked down as she began to take my turgid cock into her eager warm mouth. Her tongue lapped at my balls and anus as her fingers glided up and down my wet flesh. The sounds of her mouth and the slapping of wet flesh reverberated in my head.

Then Nikki was standing over me. She looked down at me sardonically.

”Ave Satanas,” she whispered, “Rex Satanas! Dei Satanas Sternum! Tara Reme Laris!”

She had been wearing a white halter-neck cocktail dress. Her fingers hooked inside where the dress met her armpits, and pulled the fabric inward from the sides, so that she exposed her delicious little fist-sized breasts. Obviously, she wore no bra. She played with her nipples as I watched speechlessly. She seemed to enjoy having this sexual power that she had over me. I watched hypnotized. I must have been drooling at the sight of her suckable little tits.

As my eyes glanced downwards, I noticed how the light fabric of her tight garment bunched in the front of her groin. She turned side-on and I could clearly see the large protrusion that pointed outwards and upwards from underneath her dress. The thing between her legs seemed to bob as she turned back. She smiled at me and rubbed the bulging thing through the gossamer-thin material. For a moment, she looked down upon me, gauging my reaction. Then in slow motion, she lifted her short dress up over her waist, exposing her thick brown beef stick.

“Rex Satanas! Dei Satanas Sternum! Tara Reme Laris!” she chanted over and over.

She stroked the tip of her Baphometic cock in fast and hard bursts as she groaned in her own self-pleasure. Wetness drooled from its tip as she pressed it against my lips. My mouth opened automatically and she pushed her thick cock inside. Her hands first gripped my shoulders and then the back of my head as she started to fuck my face.


I found myself in the express lift. There was a brief upward movement and then the doors opened. Milton’s party? I stood alone. There was a strong sense of déjà vu about it all.

I immediately wondered where my wife, Mary Ann, was. The party seemed to be still in full swing. But it wasn’t as I remembered it. I mean, I didn’t remember it being a masquerade ball. Yet everyone was wearing masks — evil, demonic-looking masks. The lighting seemed to oscillate from purple to crimson and back again. The music throbbed raw and tribal.

Everywhere I looked there were beautiful people — most were half-naked, dancing, grinding against each other. Men and women. Women and women. Men and men. Some seemed to be even fornicating in the full voyeuristic view of the other party-goers.

I remembered something about Milton’s parties being outrageous — being shocking — but this was a full-on pagan orgy. As looked up at the stage, I saw my young wife, Mary Ann. She had been sitting with her back to me at the grand piano.

As Mary Ann stood up and faced the applauding audience, I saw that like most of the others, she was devoid of clothing … she began to masturbate herself on the stage in front of everyone … as her fingers plowed in and out of her neatly trim slit … there was even greater applause … there had been a crowd of naked fornicators all grouping together in what resembled a mosh pit, all pleasuring themselves and each other, pressed together at the edge of the stage. Mary Ann looked down. She held her labia apart and began to urinate over them … I was in complete shock … I was shaking inside … aroused but deeply confused .. as her piss-wet audience began to scream …

“Ave Satanas! Ave Satanas! Ave Satanas! Ave Satanas! …”


I awoke in a cold sweat. My head hurt. A nightmare? Mary Ann lay peacefully besides me. What had actually transpired? My mind jumped around for a few moments — obviously I had had far too much to drink. The fucking punch? The dreams were so fucked up! But at some level, I registered a sense of change. Here I was in Big Town – a successful lawyer for one of the most powerful firms in the city. Was this how it was supposed to be?

I got up and went to the bathroom. I splashed cold water on my face and tried to retrace my steps. I had been on the balcony with the enigmatic Christabella — I remembered Milton’s words about the “future of the firm” and how I’d suddenly felt very dizzy.

What did he mean? Certainly, he had made me feel part of his “family” but that didn’t explain all the strange episodes, disembodied visions, and unexplained sexual acts.



“Finally, be strong in the Lord and in the strength of his might. Put on the whole armor of God, so that you may be able to stand against the schemes of the devil. For we do not wrestle against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the cosmic powers over this present darkness, against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly places.” — Exodus chapter 22 verses 18 to 20

Milton sent word for me to meet in the boardroom. When I arrived, Eddie and Lee were already there. Nikki was busy taking notes and young Charlotte arrived at the same time as me, carrying several thick documents that she passed silently to Eddie.

“Eddie,” said Milton in a stern voice that was not to be argued with, “I want Kevin to lead in this.”

“With all respect,” started Eddie, “This is out of his league. We need someone with more experience — a murder trial like this is going to be high-profile. Every law firm in Big Town is going to be gunning for this. We need to put our best team forward!”

”Exactly. I am never wrong in these matters. You know that!” replied Milton.

“I still think it’s a mistake! Bael will never go for it!” argued Eddie, his face flushed from the brisk altercation.

“Your disagreement is noted, Eddie. Now I want you to brief Kevin on the case and then I want us to set up a meeting with Bael today,” insisted Milton.

Bates was not happy about it, but he seemed to not want to press the issue further with Milton. Maybe he knew the man’s limits and did not want to test them.

“William Morris Bael. One of the richest men in Big Town. He virtually owned most of Up Town. As of 2.00 AM this morning, he called the police, who responded to the 911 call. A triple homicide. His wife. His stepson. And their maid. All were stabbed to death. Only his stepdaughter survived. Nobody has been arrested yet, but we believe the DA will charge Bael within the next forty-eight hours,” lectured Eddie in a condescending tone.

“What Eddie didn’t say,” interrupted Milton, “Is that he was the only one there. No signs of forced entry. Nothing taken. And his fingerprints are all over the murder weapon. Maybe he has twenty-four hours left.”

This was huge. It would be a tabloid filler. It would be all over the news.

“Maybe Eddie is right! Maybe you need someone with murder experience?” I offered.

“Do you trust me? And do you trust your instincts?” asked Milton.

I nodded.

“Then I know that you can do this Kevin.”


William Bael wasn’t convinced.

“Milton? I don’t know. I just don’t know. I need time to think. I have my stepdaughter to look after … ”

The middle-aged man strutted back and forth. Like a fish dangling on the hook, trying to dislodge himself from its barb.

“I need to consider my options.”

I stepped forward.

“While you are considering — know that your enemies are rallying against you. They have waited for this moment of weakness to act. Mr Bael, there are no witnesses. The murder weapon is covered with your prints. There was no sign of forced entry. The DA already thinks he has a slam-dunk case against you.”

Bael turned to Milton.

“And you say this kid is good?”

”The best,” replied Milton.

”You had better be fucking right!” said Bael to Milton. Turning back to me, he added, “… And you had better live up to every fucking goddam word that Milton has said about you!”


I returned to the apartment to find Mary Ann crying in our bedroom.

I dropped my things and sat down with her on the edge of our king-sized bed. She said that she had not been feeling herself since we’d arrived. Yes, it had all been very exciting. Being in Big Town. The apartment. The lifestyle. Her new friends. The parties. The attention. But she felt sad and with all the time I was spending in the office — she felt a new sense of loneliness.

We’d talked about starting a family, but I had always pushed it back saying that we needed to be able to afford it. On my meager wage in the District Attorney’s office, it would have been very difficult. That’s why I had switched to becoming a defense lawyer — so what was stopping us now? Why couldn’t we just start a family — here and now? Mary Ann smiled. She looked positively motivated by these maternal thoughts — yes, we could start a family — why not tonight?

Mary Ann smiled. She wiped her eyes and her spirit felt lifted by our conversation. She pointed to a package that had arrived. She said it was from a Doctor someone. I remembered Dr. Moyez mentioning a gift at the party. I said it can wait until later.


I asked Mary Ann about the party. What had transpired? She said that Milton had asked her to play a song on his grand piano. She said she was very nervous – but very excited at the same time.

“You played beautifully,” I recalled, “but I have never heard you play like that before – it was so moving but eerie at the same time!”

“Yes,” Mary Ann agreed, “But the crazy thing is that the music just came to me. I had no sheet music and the piece just came out of my fingers … it was like Milton had done something to me — I swear, it was the strangest of sensations!”

Mary Ann went on to say that Milton talked to her afterward – saying that I was right about him – he was a very captivating man.

“I couldn’t work out how I felt about the whole party thing. I have never experienced such a thing — being the center of all that attention,” she added.

”I know what you mean — they have all built me up to some kind of hero — and yet, there is this overwhelming strangeness about everything on Big Town.”

I wasn’t explicit about my highly sexual visions. But I also got the feeling that Mary Ann was also experiencing something unexpected too — I just wasn’t sure she was telling me everything.

She said that she had been told that I had passed out and that Milton’s Personal Assistant had brought me down to the apartment to sleep it off. I said it was probably the punch. Mary Ann laughed. She’d heard stories about how Milton liked to spike it with something nefarious. Next time we would avoid the punch.

I had taken a shower and immediately felt horny again. The thought of transsexual cock and the whole devil worship thing got me very excited.

I came out dressed only in my damp towel, I saw that Mary Ann had donned some sexy lingerie that she’d bought with Jackie. She talked more about her day. Their shopping expedition to all the most expensive boutiques in Big Town. She’d said that Jackie, Sandra (that was Eddie’s wife) and she had consumed a lot of champagne and she was feeling very tipsy at the time.

“More than tipsy. I was a little horny,” she confessed, “Then Jackie asked me about her breasts. She asked if I thought they were real. I laughed and said I did. Then she told me they weren’t — she explained about the plastic surgeon that she and a few of the other wives of the husbands from Maximus Corp had all been to see. Sandra harped in too about Jackie’s breasts. The two of them were practically naked at the time … and I didn’t know where to look.”

I listened to her story. I was thinking about Jackie’s sexy black body.

”Anyway, her fake boobs were amazing. So life-like. Jackie told me to feel her ‘tits’. It kind of sounded naughty, but I did. I squeezed and fondled her ‘tits’ as they both stood naked in the changing room at the lingerie shop.”

It was strange. I never heard Mary Ann use the word ‘tits’ before – always breasts – the word seemed vulgar coming from her mouth, but it turned me on. I couldn’t help but form a sexually exciting picture of Jackie and Sandra, shamelessly flaunting themselves, half drunk, in those expensive boutiques.

“I felt embarrassed to do it at first,” she continued, “But her fake boobs felt like real ‘tits’, Kevin — I mean there was nothing plastic and no obvious signs that they were implants. The thing is that it actually felt quite hot to touch Jackie’s naked ‘tits’ … her nipples seemed to harden and elongate as I played with them. And it made me wonder about … you know .. . what it would be like to have Sapphic sex …” Mary Ann paused, “Not that I would— it was just a thought!”

“That sounds so hot?” I added enthusiastically.

This seemed to embolden her.

“Actually, I was getting wet as I thought about what it might be like to … you know … suck her hard nipples,” she giggled nervously, “It made me think about how much fun it could be to do a threesome.”

“Wow,” I was truly shocked.

Her sexual confession seemed to lighten the mood, made us both feel very sexy and soon we were kissing each other passionately. I thought about Mary Ann and Jackie in a sixty-nine, sucking each others’ hungry wet cunts to — yes, I thought, I’d like to see that happen for real. I even encouraged her, saying that most guys think that bisexual women are hot. She laughed nervously — but I could see that she actually wanted to experience it.

It seemed that we hadn’t been intimate for quite some time and all this sexy talk made us both eager to fuck. My cock was rampant beneath my damp towel. I pushed Mary Ann back onto the bed and begin to fervently lick her wet pussy. She groaned lewdly. I looked up at her face and was shocked to see it wasn’t Mary Ann — it was Christabella’s face looking back at me …

“Eat my dirty cunt you fucker,” said Christabella.

She lifted her nubile rump upwards, pushing her bony hips towards my face. Christabella’s cunt (unlike Mary Ann’s) was completely shaved and her oversized clit stood upright from between its labia shroud like a small cock. She had a tattoo above her pubic mound that looked like the face of the devil. Her cunt lips were reddish, wet, and open. I feverishly dived my face into her, holding her extremely thin thighs wider, so I could stick my eager tongue as far inside her wet fuck tunnel as I could. She smelt like she hadn’t washed her cunt for days and her musky piss-smelling cunt was driving me wild.

She groaned lewdly.

“Fuck the Holy Spirit! Fuck Jesus! Ave Satanas! Ave Satanas!”

Her blasphemous words really turned me on and spurred me onward as I got rougher and rougher, as I coarsely fingered her dirty little rectum — stabbing my forefinger inside her oily asshole.

“Hey … hey … go easy lover boy …”

The voice sounded different. Feminine. Hurt. I looked up and saw Mary Ann’s face grimace in pain. I immediately eased off and looked apologetically at her. I wasn’t sure what had overcome me. I was never rough with Mary Ann in our love play. She kissed me and I moved between her legs and gently rubbed the tip of my eager cock against her warm vaginal opening.

“Not there! Fuck my ass! Satan’s hole … Sodomize me. I love demon sex! Cum in my ass you fucker!”

It wasn’t Mary Ann’s voice … I saw Christabella staring back at me. She was snarling like a wild animal on heat. She wore the curved horns upon her head. A playful but evil succubus. A sexual demon. Her fingers groping at her own boy-like chest … her dribbling cunt juices ran copiously down the crease of her cunt and into her anus, lubricating it, as I pressed the head of my cock against her puckered rectum.

”Hail Satan. Hail Satan. God of sex. God of perversion. That’s it … sodomize my shit-hole and cum in my bowels!”

I felt out of control with a new kind of deviant lust. Mary Ann never allowed me to do anal. She said it was unclean. But Christabella seemed to love it. She wanted it. She’d called it sodomy — a deviant sin. There was something about her — something that touched the dark side of my soul. I had wanted this woman from the very moment I had seen her. Just the very sight of her filled me with wantonness. I felt on fire. I thrust my cock into her as she blasphemed and dug her sharp nails into my back.

“Stop! Stop! You’re hurting me. Stop!” cried Mary Ann as she pushed against my chest, trying to get me off of her, “What’s … what’s wrong with you?” she exclaimed.

I did as she asked. I felt confused. She was furious with me.

“I thought you wanted to make a baby? You cannot make a baby through my anus?”

I apologized profusely, pretending that I just got a bit carried away. She wasn’t impressed and got up – she told me to get out and sleep on the couch – as she wanted to be alone right now.

I walked away as she slammed the bedroom door shut. My head was still filled with the thoughts of Christabella. I could still see her demonic face. I could still hear her wicked words.

In the front room, I found the plain wrapped gift box from Dr. Moyez. I had completely forgotten about it. I opened the package to find inside a flesh-colored fetish. I knew what it was, but was unclear of its purpose.

There was a handwritten note from Dr. Moyez inside the box. It said …

“Mr. Swift — keep this close to you — it will bring you a new way of seeing the world.”

The evil-looking Vodou doll seemed to almost vibrate against the palm of my hand. Black magic or Juju? It was strangely constructed to be feminine — but with both a large male sex organ and a vaginal opening beneath. Hermaphroditic. I recalled my dream of the shape-shifting demon. I was overcome with the strangest of sensations as I started to rub it against my cock and balls. Still naked, I began to masturbate myself furiously over the fetish. I was thinking about Christabella, sodomy, and her blasphemous sex.

Was I already seeing the world in a new light?

Within a few minutes of rubbing my torrid flesh, I began to cum … a protracted and powerful orgasm shook through me … much harder than I ever cum with Mary Ann … and as I bucked hard, a huge wad of ropy semen shot out of my cock all over the fetish doll. Not one. Several loads as I bucked for more than a minute, twitching in delight as I soaked the fetish in my salty semen.



“8 Whoever makes a practice of sinning is of the Devil, for the Devil has been sinning from the beginning. The reason the Son of God appeared was to destroy the works of the Devil …” — 1 John chapter 3 verse 8

Milton had organized it for me to together with William Bael for a one-on-one. I was to go through his testimony and prepare for the impending arrest and arraignment process. Bael was his usual obnoxious self. We had met at the crime scene, so he could walk me through the events leading up to his discovery of the bloody bodies of his wife, stepson, and their maid — only his fourteen-year-old stepdaughter had survived.

”It isn’t safe here anymore,” exclaimed William Bael.

He showed me the gun he’d brought with him for protection.

”Are you crazy? You’re a murder suspect. A triple murder. Give me the gun.”

”But …” he tried to object, but I insisted, taking the offensive weapon and put in my coat pocket. I did want Bael to get himself into a confrontation with an illegal firearm.

“So, one more time,” I asked.

”We’ve been over this a dozen times,” replied Bael. He sounded impatient and annoyed at the fact that I was picking holes in his story, “Like I said … I don’t know why I picked up the bloody knife. I came home late. Two in the morning. The door was open. I wondered why until I walked inside the house. I guess I must have been in shock. I called the cops after I discovered the bodies.”

“But that was several hours after the time of death,” I noted, “So if you were not at the crime scene until much later that night — where were you?” Bael didn’t answer, “The Prosecutor will say that you killed them in cold blood and then tried to figure out your alibi!”

”I was with … Sally,” he muttered reluctantly.

“Who is Sally?”

”My secretary. She can vouch for me. I was with her the whole time.” Bael’s voice was elevated in stress.

“Are you having an affair with your secretary?”

”No!” barked Bael.

“Because, as long as you’re in your office, boning your secretary — you cannot be at home killing your wife, stepson and the goddamn maid!”

“Oh, I see,” answer Bael. A cunning smirk crossed his face.


I traveled back to our apartment. On arrival, Milton, Christabella, and an elegant French fashion model, called Giselle, were already in the lift. I got in.

”How’s the Bael case?” asked Milton.

The District Attorney had issued the arrest warrant and I had taken William Bael in voluntarily. The bail hearing was set and I was to prepare for this.

“That’s a long conversation,” I answered, just as the lift stopped on my floor.

The lift door opened. My mother and Mary Ann were standing at the threshold to our apartment. It seemed that my mother had flown up from Small Town. She’d heard from Mary Ann that things were not going well. Mary Ann was very upset and it was just because of my failed love-making? Milton held the door open as I stepped out.

“Cette femme, elle est la mere de l’homme dont vous m’avez parle?” Asked the French Model.

”She cannot believe that you are his mother,” Milton translated for my mother, “You’ve done a helluva job of bringing him up. It couldn’t have been easy?”

“No,” said my mother as she stared at Milton (with an anxious look). My mother turned away and followed Mary Ann into the apartment.

Milton asked me, “Why don’t you come up for a while?”

“Now?” I said.

Christabella winked at me and turned to Giselle. They both smiled at each other and then began to kiss erotically mouth-to-mouth. I could see their tongues plunging into each other’s parted lips. Christabella’s hand snaked up beneath the model’s short skirt — giving me a clear view of her small, but fully erect penis.

“Are you sure?” asked Milton.

I didn’t reply. I just let the door close and turned back towards the apartment.

“Is that why you’re always working so late,” criticized Mary Ann.

“What are you talking about?” I asked.

”I’m going to bed. Good night, Alice,” bemoaned Mary Ann.

My mother insisted that Mary Ann should leave Big Town immediately with her – to go home to Small Town and recover (from whatever the mystery illness was). I categorically refused.

”This is our home now,” I countered, “Please stay here with her. Help her through her issues. I love you, Ma! Please stay.”


That night I worked late at the office. I wasn’t the only one working late. Completely by accident, I came across Eddie Bates. I wasn’t sure what Eddie’s team was up to, but they seemed to be shredding a lot of documents — boxes, and boxes of them. He mumbled something about the “Weaver Report” and said it was best that I told nobody about his activities.

Returning home I found Mary Ann catatonic. She babbled on about being left alone — that while I was away she thought she’d heard noises in the apartment. She’d investigated and found a very young child sitting naked on the floor in the spare room (that we had agreed to make into a nursery). She cried and sobbed. She continued to say that the child was playing with something bloody — it was her ovaries — she claimed that she couldn’t have a child?

I said that it was her over-active imagination. Mary Ann said that she’d been to the fertility clinic and they had confirmed her worse fears!

“They took them!” Mary Ann cried.

”Who?” I was getting worked up myself by this point.

”The demons,” screamed Mary Ann hysterically, “There are demons in this place. I have seen them. Jackie isn’t who she says she is. She’s one of them. They are evil and they took my ovaries!”

”Demons? Are you insane?” I was not being very subtle, “Jackie … is a demon?”

”It’s because I strayed from God’s good grace, Kevin. I was thinking immoral thoughts. Having unnatural desires. I didn’t tell you. At the party … that night … when I was getting all that attention from both men and women … it made me weak … I sinned in my mind. Oh Lord forgive me. Those sex demons made me lose myself. I am so ashamed, Kevin … “

At some level of my sub-conscience, there were unexplained events. I thought about my own sexual deviancy and how I had been enchanted into sexual pleasure in the depths of Moyez’s Vodou vault; how I had seen images of Christabella as a succubus; the vision of the Baphomet room; and the whole nightmare of Milton’s party … but these wild accusations of Mary Ann were unfounded and preposterous.

“They can hear us screaming next door,” I exclaimed in frustration.

”I don’t fucking care! They are demons! Evil demons. Monsters … Kevin … they took my ovaries.”

I pulled Mary Ann towards me and she wept wetly into my shoulder. I felt totally lost. What was I going to do? This was madness! I couldn’t explain this to anyone. It sounded totally irrational. Mary Ann was muttering like a crazy person … And the biggest trial of my life was about to start.


I managed to get Mary Ann sedated. The doctor gave her a jab of something that did the trick and gave her some follow-up pills to “take the edge off of things” and I had a momentary reprieve. I had begun the interview of Bael’s secretary, Margaret Stains — the one he claimed he had been banging on the night of the triple murder. If she could convince the jury of their affair — then it would change everything.

Playing the part of the aggressive prosecutor, I questioned her relentlessly — coming at her from every angle — and even though she was uncomfortable and belligerent, her story seemed to hold up.

”So is Bael cut or uncut?” I asked Margaret with my back facing her.

There was a moment of awkward silence. Nothing. No response.

“Well Margaret, you’ve been banging your boss for weeks and you sound unsure about whether he has skin or not?”

”Fuck you,” Margaret spat, “Fuck you. Fuck your stupid questions.”

I was stunned. Had I caught Margaret in a lie? Were they having an affair or not? Was Bael taking me for a fool and cooking this whole affair thing up? I had my doubts.


Milton was waiting for me after the interview with Margaret Stains. I said nothing about what had transpired. I didn’t mention my insight and the implicit guilt that my interview with Bael’s secretary could have exposed.

Somehow Milton had found out about Mary Ann’s breakdown. Not the specifics, but the fact that she was not well. Again, I didn’t want to say anything about her ovaries — the demons — and all that crap.

“Kevin,” he said, “Maybe it’s your time to stop. Your wife is unwell. I can find someone else to take over the case. Everyone will understand.”

But that wasn’t what I really wanted. I was too vested in the case. I wanted to win. I wanted to be the hero that everyone at Maximus (including Milton) had built me up to be — even at the expense of my wife’s well-being.

“What I fear most Milton,” I said, “Is that I quit the case and Mary Ann gets better and I resent her for it!”


It was later that same day when Eddie Bates confronted me.

“Your name is in the fucking partner charter,” he said accusingly, “It is like, it’s been there forever!”

”What are you talking about?” I asked.

Eddie shoved a document under my nose. He was right. Kevin Swift. My name was there in black and white.

“If you’re after my job — let me warn you. I know everything. And if Weaver calls … next time … I might just answer the phone!”

It was some kind of threat — but not knowing who Weaver was, or his Report, or what Eddie had on the firm — all I knew was that it had something to do with the Justice Department.

“Well, if you don’t like it — why don’t you organize another of your late-night shredding sessions to take care of it.”

Eddie scowled and walked off.

Shortly after my encounter with Eddie, I spoke to Milton. Milton listened without a word, then after he said that Eddie was under a lot of pressure. He painted Eddie as being power-hungry. Greedy. Jealous. And now it seemed that he was getting out of control. He confirmed that my name was on the firm’s charter and that I would be made a full partner. Eddie obviously felt threatened and was just lashing out.

I asked Milton about what the “Weaver Report” was about and why would Eddie want to talk to the Justice Department about our firm. Empty threats, he added. It was all Eddie’s doing — he’d got himself into trouble and he would have taken care of the situation himself.


To be continued …


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