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: 05.02.2021 (V43) / REVISITED: 30.07.2023

Justice 3 (chapters 7 – 9)


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


“Do not allow a sorceress to live. Anyone who has sexual relations with an animal is to be put to death. Whoever sacrifices to any God other than the Lord must be destroyed.” —Ephesians chapter 6 verses 10 to 12

My hope for an improvement in Mary Ann was dashed. She was still heavily tranquilized upon my return. She muttered something about seeing Eddie being killed. Eddie Bates? The firm’s Managing Partner? She said the demons killed him. Said cried, saying that they ripped him apart. Again, I assumed these to be the mutterings of a crazy person. First, her ovaries were taken and now she was imagining murders — not just murders — but preternatural murders by so-called demonic beings.

It wasn’t until later that evening that I got a call from the office. Eddie Bates was indeed dead. I was in complete shock. I called Milton immediately. Milton confirmed my fears. Eddie had been robbed and killed by gangsters. His mutilated and dismembered body was found in a dumpster behind a cheap hotel. Not demons — I thought — but gangsters. Milton said that the funeral would be after the trial.

I wanted to say something to Milton about Bael’s secretary, Margaret Stains but pulled myself up short. He told me that I should go with my gut.


I had had a couple of stiff drinks to take the edge off. I wanted to be composed for the trial. It was to be a moment of truth for me. I was on trial, as much as Bael was. I wanted to live up to everything that Milton expected and much more. After all that had happened, I left Mary Ann in the master bedroom and slept uneasily on the front room couch.

As I drifted off, I thought about Mary Ann’s description of Eddie’s death at the hands of the so-called demons or monsters — that’s when I saw Eddie’s face in my dream — the naked fat-fuck was laughing insidiously and appeared to have been drinking heavily. He was standing there in his birthday suit. His obese white belly gave him a pregnant appearance, and his limp cock hung beneath it like an albino worm.

He was in the company of, what appeared to be, several low-life prostitutes or call girls. They were all in some seedy hotel suite. It seemed that Eddie had a taste for dominatrix and the girls were all dressed head-to-toe in black shiny Lycra that accentuated their famine curves.

They each wore black “bunny” masks, long Lycra gloves, and thigh-high stiletto boots with six-inch heels that tilted their hips forward, making their shaved and tattooed cunts pout like obscene gaping holes.

It was obvious that Eddie had done this kind of thing before and was eager to get their BDSM fetish party going. There were signs of drug use. Empty poppers lay bestrewn across the mirrored coffee table. There was a loose stack of hundred dollar bills on top of lines of some suspicious white powder.

One of the three bunny-masked hookers lay beneath him as she began to play with Eddie’s cock. She brought it to erection and then began sucking on it greedily. Eddie was on all fours and groaned in response to her oral copulation. His hips pumped up and down as her lips engulfed him — making his entire cock disappear down her bulging gullet.

Another of the girls stood immediately in front of Eddie and then began to rub herself roughly upon his upturned face — drawing her dripping vagina back and forth. As she masturbated frantically against his lower face; creaming him in her oily whitish juices.

The last of the three hookers stood back watching her playmates, while she donned a large shiny black strap-on; she inserted half of its thickness, which disappeared inside of her slimy cunt hole, while the remaining eight inches protruded outwards from her waistline — like the Baphomet. She grinned as she greased it up with sex lube and then knelt behind him, pressing the cock head of the plastic phallus against Eddie’s willing rectum.

It was a carnal circus; the girls were wild animals at feeding time; as if they were about to consume their fattened prey. As I watched their wickedness, it excited me to see the stupid fuck get used and abused by these wet-look beasts.

As the scene played out, they all changed positions. Now Eddie began to try and fuck one of the hookers from behind in a doggy position. His stiff cock thrust back and forth between her splayed thighs. The hooker wearing the huge strap-on continued to peg him, stuffing his anus with the oily black dildo.

Eddie looked half in pain and half in pleasure; as if uncomfortable with its length and girth filling his bowels. But as the plastic cock pounded his prostate, he appeared resigned to this degradation. The last of the third stood upright in front of Eddie. She forced his face forward between her open legs, pressing Eddie’s drooling mouth hard against her clit and the gaping hole of her hairless sex.

Their bodies all ground back and forth against each other; in and out; up and down — like parts of an obscene machine. A fucking machine. The sounds of slapping wet flesh and Eddie’s grunts of ecstasy filled my dreaming mind — but there was something about it all that made the sex seem almost incidental — as if the goal wasn’t orgasm or even sexual pleasure, and through my dreamy delirium, I knew it wasn’t.

It was then that the dream shifted as the seedy hotel suite scene became something more nightmarish, more medieval, more primitive — no longer an urban hotel but a savage place lit by open flames.

Bizarrely, the three hookers also began to morph in the dream — in both form and color. To my surprise; and to Eddie’s abject horror — they no longer looked human. They tore away their bunny masks to reveal the ghastly red faces of Mephistopheles. Black-lipped mouths gaped with uneven teeth and serpent-like tongues that hissed and licked the hot air. Their bodies were no longer sensual — transforming rapidly into ghastly demonic freaks with impossibly long arms and legs that echoed medieval nightmares from Dante’s hell … I knew they were Satan’s minions, come to take Eddie to Hell.

”I … I … I never betrayed HIM!” Eddie lied and pleaded, “It’s … It’s all a mistake!”

The three misshapen demons with claws for hands and gaping mouths for vaginas seemed disinterested in Eddie’s plight. They cared nothing for his empty words of extenuating. Instead, they grabbed him like a pathetic rag doll. The one that had been pegging his, continued to thrust the misshaped phallus upwards further and further into his bleeding buttocks. Sharp talons gripped his flabby waist as blood flowed from the puncture wounds in his loose pale skin.

The demon that had mounted his face looked down at him, as her vagina looked more like the mouth of a carnivorous reptile her clawed hands held his head from moving backward.

“Please! Let me go! I am a servant of Satan. I answer to HIM!”

His cries were suddenly silenced as the demon’s cunt opened wider and wider, and then in a rapid movement, it snapped shut around his face, engulfing him and taking his screaming head inside of it.

I watched him being murdered. Mutilated. But there was no feeling of dread at the sight of his death. Now I felt erotically charged. Eddie’s hopelessness turned me on more than anything that had come before it. His torrid killers were no gangsters. Mary Ann was right – these were sex demons.

A latent fear that had welled upward inside of me made me shake from head to foot. My body tingled all over — in a crazy form of anxiety — that made the fear itself. More like an aphrodisiac that brought only more sadistic pleasure, as Eddie’s nightmare unfolded, as the sexual demons brought his tragedy to an end. Finally, I saw Eddie’s body or the parts of him that were left as the disturbing vision began to fade — dancing into wispy black smoke.


My palms were wet with sexual perspiration. My cock throbbed in my pants. “I need to get laid more often” — I quipped to myself as I shook myself from the strange vision.


The trial started.

Milton was there. He gave me an encouraging nod as I turned my attention to the job at hand. My gut told me that I could win this. I just had to play my cards right.

Young Louise Bael, the defendant’s fourteen-year-old daughter was there too. She looked forlorn. Probably after the sudden death of all her other immediate family. William looked around nervously at her. And she smiled reassuringly at him. There was something about the way they looked at each other — more like co-conspirators — rather than concerned daughter and accused father. I felt a cold shiver pass through me.

After the prosecution had presented their case, it was my turn. I stood up and addressed the jury.

“I don’t like Mr. William Bael,” I started, “He is not a nice person. In fact, he was unfaithful to his marriage. He is an adulterer.” Bael looked at me. He didn’t expect this kind of characterization by his own defense. “But today isn’t about Mr. Bael’s character.”

I stood close to the jury box and looked at them one by one earnestly.

“No. My opinion about his character has nothing to do with the facts. And the facts are that as much as you and I can feel complete disdain for this man — this trial is about a triple murder. A triple murder that happened while Mr. Bael was committing adultery with Ms. Stains, his secretary.”

I called Margaret Stains to the stand and she testified about their affair. The seed of doubt was sewn. The cross-examination revealed no holes. The trial continued, but after Bael’s secretaries’ testimony, it became very obvious where the jury was going to go. It had been a roller-coaster ride and the victory seemed empty to me, knowing that I was probably allowing a killer to go free. But that wasn’t the job. It was the jury that had made that decision.


My thoughts returned to Mary Ann. Whatever she had seen, imagined or real, had not helped her delicate state. I needed to take care of her. I returned to be told by the apartment doorman that Mary Ann had left the building — that she had gone down to a local church. The doorman said that she looked distraught. I ran two blocks to find the place. My heart was racing — and not because of being out of breath.

I found Mary Ann, wrapped in a blanket, kneeing in one of the pews close to the altar. There were only a few scattered people throughout the service and the choir was singing ‘Guide Me, O Thou Great Redeemer’. I sat down next to her in the pew and we began to talk.

“Milton. It was Milton,” she exclaimed, “He came to the apartment today. We talked for hours about all kinds of sordid sexual things. I don’t know if it was just the loneliness, but I wanted him, Kevin. As we began to make love, I decided that I couldn’t go through with it. I wanted him to stop … I wanted him to stop, But … but .. but he wouldn’t. Kevin. Oh God! Oh God! Milton raped me! Milton violently raped me!”

I looked at her in complete disbelief. Milton had been in court. I had seen him there from beginning to end. He’d watched me the entire time. The hearing had lasted all day. There was no way for Milton to be in two places at the same time.

“That’s not true Mary Ann. Milton was with me. All day in court!”

“I’m not crazy Kevin! I swear,” cried Mary Ann, her breathing had become labored between her deep sobbing, “I’m telling you, they’re all evil. They’re demons! Oh God save us! I don’t know how ..l just don’t know … But it was him, Kevin. It was Milton … He’s the Devil incarnate!”

She stood up and the flimsy blanket fell away. For the first time, I saw that her whole body was covered in deep bloody scratches (as if a wild animal had attacked her) — what had she done to herself? This was madness.

I quickly yanked up the blanket and tried my best to cover her naked body, as others in the church congregation were now looking at the two of us and the commotion that Mary Ann was causing.

I watched the ambulance lights flash as they left the scene. Mary Ann had begged me to believe her bizarre tale. But how could I? I was there in court with Milton looking on. I felt truly brokenhearted. I had signed the paperwork to keep her under care — the destination was a “mental institution” — but I kept telling myself that it was a care facility to save my wife from herself … but deep inside, I think I really knew that I was turning my back on her.



“It also forced all people, great and small, rich and poor, free and slave, to receive a mark on their right hands or on their foreheads, so that they could not buy or sell unless they had the mark, which is the name of the beast or the number of its name. This calls for wisdom. Let the person who has insight calculate the number of the beast, for it is the number of a man. That number is 666.” — Revelation chapter 13 verses 16 to 18

The church was crowded for Eddie Bates’ funeral. For a man that wasn’t popular in life, he sure seemed to draw a significant crowd for his death. Maybe they’d gathered to make sure he’d actually gone. But there was no open cassette … Not for a mutilated man.

There was almost a festive atmosphere. Everyone was there. I took a seat in one of the pews about halfway to the front of the church. The pews were packed and we all tried to jam into the available spaces.

Christabella was dressed in fashionable black lace. She had arrived shortly after my arrival. She pushed past several other people and purposefully took the seat next to me. Our bodies were in delicious contact. With all that had been happening; the incident in the private lift with Christabella, Giselle, and Milton’s invitation; the thought of her next to me gave me an instant hard-on — totally inappropriate for the occasion — but that’s just how my body reacted.

William Bael sat a few rows in front of me. He turned and nodded in acknowledgment — not that I really wanted it or cared. Sitting next to him, was his pretty fourteen-year-old stepdaughter. He put his arm around her. I watched as he began to caress her exposed back, rubbing his thumb up and down her spine. It reminded me of Mills, the pedophile teacher, and little Barbie … So that was it, I thought to myself.

The proverbial penny dropped.

That moment, back in the courtroom, as they looked at each other. William Bael and his young stepdaughter, Louise. They had looked at each other, not as stepfather and stepdaughter … But as secret lovers … The murder was a cover-up. He hadn’t been boning his secretary at all — but he’d been engaged in an incestuous affair with this own stepdaughter.

Cogs turned in my mind as I worked out the truth of it. My gut sank. His wife must have found out. His stepson and the maid were collateral damage. His pretty little stepdaughter, Louise, turned around and looked directly at me and licked her painted lips suggestively, as William continued to fondle her. His hand was inside her clothing, feeling her up as I watched.

She smiled in recognition as Bael’s hands squeezed her tiny breasts.

Christabella’s hand pressed heavily against the inside of my leg. Her nubile fingers rubbed directly against my erection through my pants; and within moments, she brought me close to ejaculation.

“Isn’t she so pretty,” whispered Christabella in a breathy and hypnotic voice, “Her virgin cunt will be so delicious. She wants you to lick her out, after her step-daddy’s cum inside her. All that delightful man cum and girl juice together. Oh FUCK … it makes me want to squirt.”

Was I losing my mind? I saw Louise stand up in the pews in front of the both of us. It was as if nobody else in the congregation, except Christabella, William, and I, could see it. Facing me, she lifted her short black dress, over her waistline, revealing her tiny bald pussy. Louise’s expression pretended innocence, but like her stepfather, displayed wicked wantonness. Her delicate fingers danced over her hairless moms, playing with herself as she parted her narrow moist slit. Christabella’s fingers moved faster and faster against my lap as I watched in total disbelief.

“Yes … look at her nubile young body,” whispered Christabella in my ear, “Doesn’t it make you want to sodomize the little incestuous slut? Do you want her? I know I want her!”

Just as I thought it couldn’t get any more bizarre, the young girl began giggling out loud as she urinated into her stepfather’s mouth. He gulped at the sparkling yellow fountain that drenched his face as she stood above him.

“Fuck yer, that’s so hot,” murmured Christabella, “Christ be fucked, drink her piss!”

Oh God! Mary Ann wasn’t so crazy?

I shook my head. This couldn’t be real. Another daydream? Maybe all these incidents were connected? My mind reeled. The church service was about to begin. I felt drunk on unnatural lust. The church organ was wailing, the choir was singing — but everything sounded out-of-tune — the church felt unbearably hot. I stood up awkwardly, trying to hide my raging hard-on. Christabella made it clear that she didn’t want me to leave, but I got up anyway, and pressed past the rest of the people in the pew that seemed unable to see what I could see. I wanted to leave this unholy place. I desperately needed some fresh air.


The cooler air immediately helped me get a grip. Outside the church, I was approached by a man (who seemed to have been waiting for me). I really wanted to be alone right now — to think things through.

“My name is Samuel Weaver,” he introduced himself, “I believe you knew the deceased? Eddie Bates? He was about to whistle-blow on Maximus Corp. He was about to blow the whole thing sky-high.”

“Look … er … Mr. Weaver,” I started to say, “This isn’t exactly the best time to talk.”

“The woman you defended in Small Town. Mills. Shirley Mills. She was caught last week with the naked body of an eight-year-old girl in the trunk of her car.”

What was he saying?

“That’s not on me — the prosecution lost the case,” I tried to affirm, maybe a little too quickly.

“You keep telling yourself that Kevin. And what about William Bael?” asked Weaver, “I’m giving you a chance here to come clean. I won’t offer it again. Do you think these incidents are bad? This is the tip of the iceberg. Maximus Corp has a finger into every evil and wicked pie.” Weaver aggressively grabbed my arm, “Drugs. Extortion. Prostitution. Human trafficking … Hell! They even supply pedophile rings with abducted children. Their clinics perform abortions on nine-month-pregnant women. Why do you think they have so many foreign associates in all the trouble spots around the world? What do you think Dr. Moyez does? And what do you think happens to people who get in their way? You think Eddie was really killed by a so-called gangster?”

That strange nightmare regarding Eddie and the demons reentered my mind … I didn’t want to hear what Weaver had to sell. I felt sick to the stomach. My eyesight became blurry and my head was spinning faster and faster … In fact, I thought I was going to vomit right there and then. I quickly turned away and rushed across the crowded street.

I had heard enough of this madness.

I was about to turn to Weaver — to check that he was going to leave me alone — when suddenly there was the awful sound of screeching brakes and the dull thud of human flesh hitting cold metal. I saw Weaver fly. Literally. He had tried to cross the traffic with me, but his inattention had cost him his life. Now he lay in a pool of his own blood. His body looked twisted and broken. A crowd had begun to gather around the body. I slipped back and disappeared into the milling crowd.


Nikki and my mother were already at the care facility when I arrived from the funeral. The whole episode of Weaver’s story and his sudden death made me rethink my understanding of what my wife had been through and what she’d tried to tell me.

My mother intercepted me and hugged me tightly.

“I have to tell you about your father,” she muttered.

”Not right now, Mom. I need to talk to Mary Ann.”

“Kevin. I have to tell you,” she insisted, “This wasn’t my first visit to Big Town. I was only sixteen at the time. I was alone in Big Town, staying at a small motel. I met a waiter. He talked to me. It was the first time anyone had really talked to me. He knew the Bible — knew every word in it. It was the night I became pregnant with you, Kevin. Your father, he said to me, ‘I send you out as sheep among the wolves’ …”

“What are you saying?”

”That waiter, he was Milton. I wasn’t sure at first. But, I am sure now. Milton is your father. He is evil Kevin. Pure and unadulterated evil. You have to take Mary Ann and get away from here, right away … I think he’s been watching you all along.”

I had to see Mary Ann. I had to tell her that I understood her. I left my mother weeping in the corridor. All I could think about was Mary Ann. As I arrived at her room, I realized that there was already a commotion — through the security glass in the room door, I saw Mary Ann. She was dressed in one of those one-piece hospital gowns that open from the back. She wore no make-up. Her beautiful hair had been shaved back to just a crew cut. She looked distraught … manic even.

I tried to open the door, but she had blocked it from within with a chair pressed up against the handle. I tried to talk to her, to get her attention through the small glass window, but she couldn’t hear me through the heavily sealed door. From where I stood, there was a broken mirror laying on the floor around her bare feet.

In complete horror, I watch Mary Ann bend down and pick up a piece of broken mirror, as she brought it to her naked throat.

I grabbed a metal chair and tried to use it to break the glass. I was desperate. I shouted to Nikki to get help, as I tried to smash the security glass with little effect. I hit it over and over. I screamed at Mary Ann to stop, but she couldn’t hear me. With the whisper of a prayer, she dragged the jagged edge of the mirrored glass across the delicate skin of her neck, slitting her own throat. I screamed uselessly at her. Blood poured forth, as the door finally gave way to my efforts to break it down.

Mary Ann collapsed slowly onto the floor. L rushed forward and grabbed her, pulling her limp body onto my lap as tried desperately to stop her bleeding out — but there was nothing I could do. Mary Ann slipped away as I lay covered in her blood.

I stood up. I felt totally numb. Lights seemed to flicker on and off. Sirens sounded. Several nurses and doctors had rushed into her room. Everything felt as if it were in slow motion. But I knew it was too late.

Nikki approached me. She seemed untouched by all the calamity. As if it were supposed to be this way. Her calm was unnerving. She held my shaking hands in hers and looked into my crying eyes.

”You know who you are,” she said, as if she could read my mind, “He’s waiting for you. He’ll take the pain away.”

I looked back over my shoulder. I saw my mother and the nurses huddled over Mary Ann’s body — but I already knew that she was gone. Nikki squeezed my hands again and I turned to look at her again. I knew who I was. I knew who she was. It was all so crystal clear — why hadn’t I seen it before?

I walked out of the care facility onto an empty street … there was no traffic … no sounds … no people … I was completely alone … I put my hand into my coat pocket and felt the cold steel of Bael’s gun. I walked down the center of the road until I reached the apartment block and took the express lift to the penthouse … I didn’t even press the buttons … it knew where I needed to go.



“Watch and pray so that you will not fall into temptation. The spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak.” Matthew 2chapter 6 verses 41

The lift door opened into Milton’s private apartment.

The bloody fountain bubbled like a witch’s cauldron. As I gazed momentarily at the intertwined forms, I swear I saw the black marble nymphs begin to move within it. I rubbed my eyes with disbelief. There must have been dozens of them — excited, they seemed to clamber about naked and horny — they all appeared to be all sexually aroused by my arrival.

There was a pungent smell of ritual incense and burnt things. The open fire blazed fiercely. Again, my fingers nervously touched Bael’s gun — which was concealed in my coat pocket — as I walked into his oversized lounge.

The huge ominous Baphometic painting had been moved. Now it hung, front and center, over the crackling fireplace. Its ugly goat-like face stared back at me. Its eyes seemed to follow me as I walked forward. Its phallus pointed upwards, erect and proud.

Literally, hundreds of black candles twinkled all around the crimson-red room.

With “demon eyes” — there were so many details that I had missed about this damnable room that I hadn’t noticed until now. They were all so obvious — the phallic symbolism, occult, witchcraft, paganism, and sigils of demonology. It was a place dedicated to the diabolic worship of supernatural evil — the very room itself seemed to hum with evil energy all of its own.

”So now you know,” said Milton.

He was dressed in a simple long black gown. A shining pendulum hung around his neck (much like a priest). I recognized the symbolism as the inverted pentagon – the Goat of Mendes. Without another word I advanced; pulled out the gun; and pointed it at his chest. I might not be a good shot, but from this distance, I couldn’t miss. I fired rapidly.




As I fired the gun right at his heart. The shell casings fell around me. It felt like slow motion. The sound echoed in the hollowness of the room — but Milton still stood there grinning audaciously back at me — untouched by my surprise attack.

”OH YER!” he shouted, “That’s what I’m talking about! Oh, FUCK YER! Let it all out! Anger! That’s it! It’s the last step!” mocked Milton, almost dancing on the spot.

”What the fuck are you?” I cried — but I already knew the answer.

”Come on Kevin. You know … they call me … the Devil … Satan. Belial. Lucifer. Diabolic. Iblis. Beelzebub. Azazel. Armodeus. Baal … there are so many infernal names … and YOU? .. have you figured that out yet?”

”… You’re my … father?” I muttered.

”Jackpot Kevin! That’s right.”

The room around me hummed with depraved sexual excitement — everything seemed to shimmer and vibrant with malignant intent. Like the heavy breathing of a million perverts getting off on the most vile of pornographic delights. There seemed to be a chorus of demons all masturbating and humming the anthems of hell — I tried to remain focused on what lay ahead..

”I’ve been here with you from the beginning, Kevin,” Milton moved like a leopard circling in for the kill, “Always had my eye on you, son. And did I judge you for all your wayward thoughts? Your sinfulness? No! Did I encourage you? Fuck yes! All I’ve ever done was to nurture your baser instincts … Helped you see the path that would lead you … to me.”

His hand toyed with his heavy pendant and I could clearly see the shape of his erection from beneath his gown.

“And now it’s time to give in — to your REAL desires — your TRUE calling. You know it, Kevin. You can feel it in your groin,” he rubbed his erection through his gown as he talked, “Right now. Itching for release. FUCK YER! You cannot say that you’ve been alone in this perverted journey — on your rapid ascent through these glorious victories; one after another; after another; after another …”

I had stubbornly held onto the useless gun — now I let go of it and it dropped to the floor with a loud clutter — I thought of Mary Ann. How Milton had violently raped her. But why had Milton done this to my wife? Why destroy her?

”But why … Mary Ann?” I stuttered.

“Mary Ann? … Mary Ann? … You could have saved her any time you wanted,” replied Milton, mimicking my voice, he added. “… ‘What I fear most is that I quit the case and Mary Ann gets better and I resent her for it!’ … weren’t those your very words, Kevin?”

”Why this? Why all of this? … If you’re the goddamn Devil … then why the whole law firm?”

I noticed that we were not alone.

Gathered in a wide circle around us, were others dressed as Milton was, in long black ceremonial robes with their shiny little pendants. Their faces were obscured by masquerade masks (like I had seen in my dream of Milton’s bizarre orgy). Their feet were bare. And they stood watching our verbal interchange, most touching themselves through their thin gowns — some looked only tall enough to be preteens.

“Ah! Now there’s a more intelligent question … the law, Kevin,” continued Milton, “Is the ultimate backdoor pass into everything sinful, sordid, and corrupt. Think of it. We can control everything. Pull all the strings like the greatest of puppeteers. We set the stage. And from the courtroom … it will be acquittal after acquittal after acquittal — until the stench is so rotten – the whole system will collapse.”

“But why do you need me?”

”NEED? No, Kevin. It’s what I WANT for you … my Son. You don’t know how many disappointments there have been … Christabella? … help me here,” asked Milton.

One of the black-robed figures stepped forward from the line-up. Christabella removed her devil mask and stood next to me. Her face was flushed with carnal excitement. To me, she looked beyond beautiful. Christabella immediately kissed my mouth and slid her long snake-like tongue between my lips as she held the back of my head. We kissed for the longest time. I was giddy with sexual lust but still shaken from the encounter with my father. But the taste of her … the smell of her … the feel of her … it aroused me to the point that my anger floated away on clouds of wanton lust.

”Your sister is so beautiful, isn’t she,” said Milton, “Well … half-sister.”

Her gown fell around her waistline. Her long slender neck, pronounced clavicles, slight build, and boyish chest (crowned with hard cherry-red nipples) … I looked upon my sister with a ravenous lust … my cock throbbed at the sight of her naked flesh. She grinned sardonically at me; then let her black robe fall to her feet, exposing herself completely to me … she was hermaphroditic … her penis was hard and pointed upwards towards me … her vagina opening and clearly visible at the base of her cock. Half-sister… half-brother (I thought).

“The best of both worlds, Kevin?” Said Milton, as if he could read my mind, “She loves anal and oral sex — and knows how to truly pleasure your cock.”

“Are we negotiating?” I asked.

Milton laughed out loud …

“ALWAYS!” he replied.

Christabella pressed her hips against mine and kissed my mouth again, only much hungrier and more urgent. My hands first cupped her tiny tits and then slid over her greasy genitals. I began to stroke her penis as her eager fingers groped at my bulging groin.

“Ignore him Kevin … “ groaned Christabella, “You don’t know how long I have waited for this. To kiss my brother. My demonic brother. Incest is so sexy don’t you think?”

Christabella did seem to wait for my answer, instead, she kissed my neck as she pushed my coat from my shoulders and then tore my shirt open so that the button flew off in every direction.

“Undress Kevin … Our father wants us to fornicate upon his blood altar — to exchange our bodily fluids. My cunt needs to be filled with your incestuous cum. Make me pregnant so Daddy can have his precious antichrist. He has a grand sacrifice planned for this momentous family reunion.”

She tugged at my belt. My underwear was next. I removed my socks and shoes and then I was standing next to Christabella — naked and wanton. Our audience seemed to have multiplied — we were surrounded by black-robed worshipers that all seemed eager for us to get it on.

“We must consummate our incestuous marriage before Satan … with an unholy offering of unbaptized blood,” she said, “Ave Satanas! Rex Inferis Aeternum! Voluntas est Propter Nostram Sodomiticum! Adoramus te Spiritus Malus!”

I heard her words, but all I could think about was my desire to fuck her hard. In her mouth, her cunt, and her ass … Nothing else mattered now.

“Crucis Inversus In Nomen Satanas!” chanted the worshipers in reprise.

We frantically rubbed our cocks together — frotting against one another — and groaning into each other’s mouths like wild animals. There was heat in our bodies. A shimming heat in the air — as the molecules around us vibrated faster and faster. The momentum was gathering rapidly.

“Benedicto Spiritus Daemonium Occultos! Conjurus Flamme Nigra In Nomen Satanas! Ave Diaboli! Ave Diaboli! Ego Maledictus Nomen Dei Satanas Honoris!”

I turned Christabella’s body away from me so that she faced the blood altar and quickly bent her forward, pushing her over its surface — I wanted desperately to sink my throbbing cock inside her hermaphroditic cunt. I could tell by her backward thrusts that she was equally excited too.

The pain of everything that had transpired, up until this point, began to recede … replaced with nothing but an evil and ravenous thirst that needed desperately to be quenched.

“In Nomine Dei Nostri Satanas, Luciferi Excelsi,” chanted my Father.

”Luciferi Excelsi,” replied the dark congregation.

From the corner of my eye, I saw Milton watching us both like a hawk. His eyes burned into me — willing me to serve his cause — to fuck my half-sister. Was this the moment? No turning back? No regrets? The life I knew would be over — lost to the purposes of His wickedness?

“O Satanae Nequitia nos Placere!” Christabella continued, “Salve Satanas! Gloria Satanas! Ave Satanas!”

Milton, the evil conductor, was waving his arms. Four more of the dark-robed figures undressed and revealed themselves to me. I instantly recognized them as Nikki, Charlotte, Giselle, and Jackie — all four of them were beautiful and naked … Nikki and Giselle rhythmically rubbing their erect cocks; Charlotte and Jackie fingering their hungry cunts … as they formed a loose circle around us, chanting quietly at first— their voices carried evil intent, to further our lustful cravings.

”Ave Satanas!” they all chanted, “Voluntas est Propter Nostram Sodomiticum! Adoramus te Spiritus Malus!”

Christabella’s fingers steered my cock inside of her so that the wet tip of my cock was pressed up between her oily labia — I thrust forward so that I sank about an inch of my fuck pole inside of her. Her fuck tunnel was so slippery even without any effort, my cock sank halfway inside her. She groaned with wicked pleasure. Her vaginal muscles gripped the girth of my cock — squeezing it — milking me and bringing me ripples of exquisite pleasure.

“Hail my children!” cried my Father, “Hail the unholy Succubus! Hail the unclean Incubus! Let your joining be a sign of your faith in me … in Satan … in the Divine Ruler of the Living World.”

I grunted and thrust my cock all the way in so that my testicles slapped against my sister’s anus. I pulled back, withdrawing my fleshy sword from its hot, wet scabbard — then thrusting it back inside her again. We grunted and rutted. Fucking hard and fast. I felt hands touching me, encouraging our unnatural coupling. I felt Jackie and Charlotte frotting their wet slimy cunts against us. Giselle and Nikki stood on either side of Christabella, masturbating themselves — both desperate to cum together.

“AAarghhhhhhhhh … More brother! Cum inside of me … Let’s make the Antichrist” Christabella groaned.

She stopped momentarily and I turned her over onto her back and parted her legs wide. Without delay, I slammed my cock back into her oily cunt lips as she masturbated furiously, stroking her delicious cock and feasting my lustful eyes. I leaned forward and we kissed mouth-to-mouth.

“… More! Oh Fuck Christ! Fuck the Holy Spirit!” she blasphemed.

Three more robed figures, still disguised in their evil masks, brought forth a naked young girl. She appeared to be very young. Preteen, but very pregnant. They held her by her puny little arms —pushing her forward toward the vile blood altar. She seemed stunned, moving in a way that portrayed her unwillingness to participate in this carnal ritual.

Milton’s power over her seemed undeniable as they dragged her across the room.

She looked scared. Terrified. The preteen struggled against her attendees, her expectant stomach bulging forward obscenely, maybe (eight and half months pregnant. She seemed to me to be almost ready to conceive. I remembered Christabella said, “an unholy offering of unbaptized blood.” Were they going to abort her fetus? I had heard about satanic rituals where “breeders” were used to provide sacrifices in the form of unborn fetuses … but that was all urban myth and tall stories to scare religious folk (like my mother). There was no substance to these claims — or so I thought.

Milton’s huge room seemed to be teeming with black-robed worshipers that were all shedding their clothing — the room had turned into a sea of fornicating bodies — wet flesh slapping against wet flesh. Cocks in mouths, cunts, and asses. Old and young. All deviant. The unholy orgy had begun. Everywhere I looked, I saw delicious naked flesh. I look up at the poor unfortunate pregnant girl who was hung up by her limbs immediately about the blood altar. Another worshiper brought forth a long spear-like curettage.

“Please no! Don’t hurt my baby!” she cried — but her pleas were drowned out by the aggressive chanting of Milton’s hell-bound hoard.

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

It seemed that her cries fell on indifferent ears. Her screams only seemed to excite these demons more. Milton now stood naked, stroking his election as he receded over this horrific ritual. He took hold of the spear-like dildo and held it up. His congregation groaned and bellowed in anticipation. With their endorsement of malice, he started to ram it hard, upwards into the cunt of the screaming girl.

“Oh FUCK yer!” cried Christabella, who had a front-row view of the carnage above us.

Blood splashed over the both of us as I continued to fuck my sister’s cunt faster and faster. I was very close to orgasm — never had I ever felt so alive — more blood splattered across the altar top and over us, as the contorted body of the pregnant girl was stabbed upwards, over and over, by a blood-crazed Milton.

“AAAAAAAAAarhghhuuuuuuuu …” cried Christabella.

I felt my body beginning to convulse in unholy orgasm — my eyes were wide open — looking upon the wriggling body of Christabella as she ejaculated in ropes of white semen over her bloody boyish tits.

I felt my semen ready to pump deeply into Christabella’s welcoming womb. FUCK! The approaching orgasm felt so powerful — then out of the corner of my eye, I saw my mother. She was crying. She picked up the gun and pointed it at my head.

“This is for Mary Ann …” she said and pulled the trigger.

Everything went black.


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