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: LGBT themes, Incest, WS, Scat, Cohesion, Corruption, Lolita, NC, Rape, Bondage, Sadism, Snuff, MC, Black Magic, Devil Worship, Demons, Evil themes

AUTHORS NOTES: This story was written back in 2013. Thought I would re-upload again for anyone who missed it the first time on ASSTR. Thank you ASSTR for kind of forcing me to set up my own website. Never done anything like this before, but it’s been a journey all of its own.

CREATED: 10.01.2013 / UPDATED: 05.07.2018 / REVISITED: 17.08.2023

Little Monsters 2


As a fatherless family gets involved with the sexual activities of a satanic cult, they discover the pleasures of incest, sadism, and non-consensual sex. In the course of their involvement with the occult, they find out that the devil is real and his devout believers use sex as a way of corrupting young and old alike – to draw them into a hellish world – where the end game is for their eternal souls.


Sandra, the widow of a religious zealot, had turned against her forced pious life to embrace her darker side. Her two preteen children, Sally, the youngest at ten, and Stephen, the eldest at eleven, had also been drawn into this twilight world of demons and sexual perversity. The children discover their true identities as Cambions; the son and daughter of an incubus; born from the sexual union between a demon and a human.

As the next chapters unfold, Sally and Steven, are still trying to come to terms with who they really are; but even as they adapt to these challenges, we find that the predators become the prey. They now face an even greater threat in the form of the obsessive demon hunter, Leonard Longinus, and the secret religious society called ‘Those Who Know’ who seek to destroy all of their kind and send all those who oppose the ‘Will of God’ back to Hell.


The hooded Leonard Longinus was no stranger to the twilight world of demons and monsters. He was the handsome son of an evangelist preacher and lived to serve the ‘Will of God’. Amongst the secret religious society of fanatics known as ‘Those Who Know’, he was highly respected for his unflinching belief in the absolutes of good and evil; that all those who are not with them, are by definition, against them. At just twenty-five years old, he had already been killed many times. Though he never considered himself a murderer. Over his five-year campaign, of killing demons and destroying monsters in the service of the Lord Almighty, he had come to see it as a holy thing; a divine thing. This was his Holy crusade against the forces of darkness that was his sole and key responsibility, nay his solemn duty to execute.

He knew that Cambions were devious creatures. He had killed many. They were more difficult than most of the other demons to catch, because of their cunning nature and their unusual attractiveness in their human form. They could be charming, handsome, or beautiful, but a demon is a demon. Many of ‘Those Who Know’ had come up against them had either been thrown off track or deceived by their spellbinding sexual allure. But Longinus knew their evil and perverted trickery, he had seen them for who they really were – horrible and murderous sexual predators that raped and killed for the pleasure of the devil. He would wipe this malevolent scourge from the face of the Earth, and restore the Order of Heaven in the way it should have been from the scriptures of the Old Testament.

The Christchurch bells rang loud and clear to summon ‘Those Who Know’. They all gathered in the peaceful Chapel of Faith; the multicolored light fell in rays from the stained glass windows as Leonard Longinus took the pulpit.

“Brothers and Sister of ‘Those Who Know’ … I ask you to affirm your faith in Jesus, the Son of God, our Savior, as we face together this continuing invasion from Hell. Amen.”

“Amen,” responded to the gathering.

“I ask others … people that I meet in the community … do you believe in the existence of angels? Most people I talk to say an affirmative YES … but when I ask them about the existence of demons most say an affirmative NO. I then say to them, as I say to you today … if you believe in angels you must also believe in fallen angels!”

Longinus paused and looked upwards towards the looming statue of the Virgin. With her resolute face and embracing arms; she was a divine inspiration.

“I tell them that when Jesus walked this earth, he dealt with these devious demons on many occasions. Jesus not only believed in them, but he confronted them, as must WE ALL. Watching the news, you have to agree, that the world we live in is controlled and influenced predominantly by Satan and his army of fallen angels. His sadistic demons are everywhere working on his evil plan. The Good Book calls Satan the ‘Prince of this World’ … I say that he belongs only in Hell and that it is our duty to retaliate against his evil will, crush his wickedness, and protect the innocent ones, so that they may all be free to serve the Lord and live their pious lives in the glory of his eternal heavenly light. Amen.”


“Examine the evidence. Rapists – not just men, but women who rape toddlers of two or three years … now that’s depravity inspired by demons! Child abusers … even parents that defile their own children in ways so horrible that they defy imagination … that’s depravity inspired by demons! Murderers … not just killing their victims, but sexually brutalizing them, and in many cases, cannibalizing them … that’s depravity inspired by demons! We must rid our world of these evil spirits once and for all. Amen.”

“Amen,” affirmed the other stern faces.

“Satanism is on the rise. And the Satanists are not just those who sacrifice cows and goats and drink the blood. Satanists are not just the people in the small town where I grew up that put a small boy into a coffin with a straw to breathe through, then poured in thousands of fire ants … and later referred to the fifteen minutes of slow death torture which ensued as a sacrifice to Satan. No, Satanists come in many other forms, like most people who allow Satan in … they allow him in by the ear gate when they listen to the aforementioned perversity – that allows his incubi and succubae to fornicate with them, birthing more demons and spread this unprecedented plague of wickedness. We must stop them! And the time my brothers and sisters of ‘Those Who Know’ is right now! … Amen!”

“Amen. Amen. Amen!”


Father Dominic was a strong man in his own right though outwardly he appeared far too pretty to be a soldier of God. At thirty-eight years old, boyish good looks still shone through. He waited impatiently at the door of the Chapel. He grasped Longinus by both hands and held them firmly. The charismatic Leo was more like a brother to the priest. He loved him dearly.

“Leo, my brother. You must be careful. Your fearlessness and righteousness will not protect you against these devils. I fear for you, as I fear for all of us. I will pray tonight for your safe return.”

“Dominic my brother! A man without fear is a foul. I am not fearless and those that have chosen to join me are not either, we are but men and women who can no longer stand by and witness the evil without doing something … Anything … About it!”

“Leo, I hear that this coven of wickedness has been responsible for the persecution of countless innocent souls for over five centuries. They are boastful and careless in their attitude towards their secrecy … else we would not know of their existence. But there is so much we don’t know and you will be unprepared for it. Are you sure you want to take this on?”

“Yes. The time is right. The Satanic calendar tells us that they will be in great feasts and festivals – they are vulnerable like no other time. Their sexual drunkenness will make them easier to identify and therefore destroy. We leave tomorrow night, the night of the High Mass … they will be caught off guard!”

“I wish I shared your confidence. Evil is by nature devious and unpredictable. Take great care my son … All of you, take care, and may God’s blessing protect his own.”


With the fellowship of ‘Those Who Know’ gone, Father Dominic prayed quietly alone in the chapel. It felt serene and peaceful – like the eye of a hurricane-passing overhead. He was very troubled by the events of the past few days. His restlessness seems to focus on terrible things. He knew of many evil things – he had witnessed the power of possessions, the perils of exorcisms, and the menace of disembodied spirits. But there was nothing he feared more than demons. They were cunning and clever – they appeared in so many delightful forms; they could lure and trick even the most seasoned of clergy and the pathway downwards was very slippery.

The sun had set and the chapel began to darken. It was time for a light supper and rest. It would be a long day and night tomorrow. The power of collective pray was something he strongly believed in; and his community would be supportive of those in the line of fire – those brave souls facing his greatest fear. As the Father prepared to lock up, he noticed a small figure seated in the last peer of the chapel. He made his way down the central aisle and approached the parishioner. As he got closer, he saw that it was a girl – A young girl that was no older than ten or maybe eleven years old. She looked lost and upset.

“Are you alright my dear?” He asked.

He looked around wondering where her parents could be. He could see that she had been crying and her clothing had been torn as if she had been in a physical altercation.

“Father. I am sorry. I had nowhere to go,” answered the girl between sobs.

“My dear, the chapel is closing. Where are your parents?”

“My father hurt me. It’s why I ran away. He touched me in places that I didn’t want him to… and when I told him to stop he hurt me even more.” The child sobbed and fell into the Father’s arms. He held her gently and stroked her soft flowing hair

“Child, I am Father Dominic. What is your name?”

“Sally Fairfax, Father”

“And where do you live Sally?”

“I can’t go back. I can’t … he’ll beat me … like he does my mother.”

“Sally, this is awful, for the love of God, he sounds like a monster!”

Dominic looked at the slight girl with shoulder-length ginger hair; her torn clothes hardly covered dainty limbs and bare feet. Beautiful little feet with perfectly symmetrical toes.

“Father … can I just stay here … just in the chapel … I promise not to be any trouble to you. I just want God to make me feel safe.”

“And God shall my child. But it will be cold and uncomfortable here. I have accommodation in the refractory next door. You will stay with me until I can sort this out tomorrow.”

“Oh, Father … thank you, thank you!”

The little ginger-haired child clung tightly around the priest’s neck, as he lifted her weightless body and carried her out of the chapel. She felt so precious, so delicate, so vulnerable. The priest’s humble lodgings were close by and he took Sally into his room and laid her across the comfortable couch, covering her with a warm patchwork quilt made by one of the support groups from the village.

“Rest Sally. I will be back shortly after I have locked up the chapel.”

The Father returned quickly to find the couch empty. He looked in his kitchenette, in the laundry, and in the storeroom. The little girl was nowhere to be found. Opening the bedroom door, he found her under the bedclothes, curled up in a fetal ball.

“There you are,” he said softly, not wanting to disturb her.

The Father was a good man and had been involved in domestic violence issues before, he knew only too well, the victimization of the children and the scourge of pedophiles – how they could be treated unfairly, abused, and even molested by their drunken fathers … and sometimes even their complicit or participating mothers. He would help this young one find her way, even if it meant going to the police in the morning.

The Father changed from his priestly uniform and donned his bed shorts. He took the couch and lay beneath the quilt that he had intended for his guest. A small price to pay for the small girl that he hoped he could save.

The good Father slept. It was the best sleep that he had experienced for a while, he felt restful as if a heavy burden had been lifted from his mind — his thoughts about ‘Those Who Know’ and Longinus’ audacious plan seemed to drift away in complete insignificance and dream he did. It was beautiful and wonderful. He felt warm and elated, like bathing in pure ecstasy. He felt aroused like never before like many small hands massaging his weary bones — hands, and mouths that seemed to want to fellate his erect penis. Yes, a beautiful and skillful mouth seemed to draw his essence … a young and highly sexual mouth that brought him closer and closer to an incredibly powerful orgasm.

Father Dominic awake abruptly to find himself on the couch. It was pitch black in the refractory. He was shaking. He kicked the quilted blanket from his body which was drenched in sweat. His cock felt thick and needy as he drew it from inside his bed shorts without a second thought. His hands seemed obsessed as they rubbed his foreskin rapidly back and forth and he moaned lewdly. Standing up, he shed his bed shorts and opened his bedroom door.

There she was. Sally Fairfax. The lost little girl with the long ginger hair … only she too was completely naked and laying with her preteen legs wide apart … waiting for him. The room was lit by the full moon that shone through the open bay window, and the entire place stunk of her urine and feces. He stared with sheer wanton lust at the ten-year-old girl as she masturbated with the Father’s large wooden crucifix. Her clitoris pocked upwards from its skin flap. It looked more like the size of a small boy’s penis.

“Father … he’s a devil … he forced me to lick his anus and suck his penis. It was hard and he fucked my face. He came in my mouth. His hot salty semen was delicious. I washed it down with my mother’s urine, as she pissed it down my throat and came at the same time.

“Father … my brother fucked my virgin ass with a hairbrush handle while he licked my pissy pussy out. I farted and made shit in the bed. I picked up a piece of my shit and eat it with my mother.

“Father … I pray to Satan and fantasize about being raped by sex demons. They know how perverted I am and make me cum over and over with their filthy large cocks. Each time I cum, I scream his name in deviant adoration!”

The priest heard the blasphemous words but said nothing. He knew exactly what they meant. He was shaking violently from a pleasure source he had never experienced before … he looked down, and he was straddled upon the child’s narrow hips. Beneath his open thighs, based just above the girl’s vagina, was a large phallic protrusion that was now burrowing up his anus. His eyes closed and opened, closed and opened in both pleasure and pain as the demon child sodomized him.



Business at the occult shop had been slow. Lexus Maklakovo was an exotic-looking woman. From her tattooed and pierced body, split tongue, and blunt fringe, she was outwardly a Gothic goddess. Born of Russian blood, she had moved to Central Europe and fallen in love with a wealthy woman that not only welcomed her to her bed but also was eager to begin a new life with her new lover. Unfortunately, that was over now. Though it was so long ago, it still felt like only yesterday to Lexus. She missed her. How things had changed since then.

She closed early and walked through to the back of the shop. There was a special coven gathering that evening. It was the first for a while and she looked forward to it with anticipation of sharing her dark love with her other sensual witches – so much more sensual than the activities that involved those coarse demons.

She noticed the small format videotape with the handwritten name ‘Sandra Fairfax’ lying next to the player. She popped it in and sat back. The static cleared and the amateur video of two naked ginger-headed children in the bath filled the screen.

Lexus had sensed this woman’s potential from the second she had walked into her shop. Spawn of the Nephililim, they were both Cambions; very attractive young children. Born for sex. She had had sex with both of them in their human form. Even in the first video, she could see the subtle signs. Their advanced sexuality; how eager they both were to participate in their mother’s incestuous games. How quickly the perversity had escalated. The worship of Satan had been so swiftly introduced and completely accepted. They initiatively knew. Her fingers moved beneath her short black skirt. She groaned a little sinking three fingers into her moist cunt and one finger into her anus.

Sandra had been such a willing student; eager to do anything and everything that the coven asked of her. She remembered the look on Sandra’s face, as she knelt beneath her for the first time. The evil pendant had been her first trigger, but seeing Lexus’s clit cock grow to its full seven inches had been something she had not expected. Lexus was no Cambion, but as an ancient witch of some means, she had amassed many secretive powers. She had made Sandra a lust promise and the coven had welcomed her and her young ones with open arms … and of course open legs. Her sisters in the coven had been eager to experience sex with a Cambion outside of its human form, but Lexus had cautioned her fellow witches against this until the children had been initiated.

Instead, they would celebrate Sandra’s ascent to witch-hood and she and the children would experience, firsthand, the ‘secret worship’ as her coven of perverted witches paid homage to their horned lover.

Originally her six coven members had intended it to have been a simple ritual, where all present, except the children, were to be dressed to parody their Christian counterparts, choosing to cloth themselves as cloistered nuns. But Lexus had other ideas. She had suggested a more covert ritual, one where they would, in fact, gather in the disguise of the Cloistered Poor Clare Nuns, and would perform their profane ritual with the virgin blood of these religious virgin zealots.


Sister Maria of the Order of Saint Clare of Assisi was twenty-eight years old. Beneath her drab robes and wimple, she was an attractive brunette of only sixty inches in height and a mere ninety pounds. In her own eyes, she was no social misfit. She had chosen to model her life on the Saint that had, through the rejection of all wealth and privilege, taken the vow of celibacy – and like St. Clare of Assisi, she too had a burning missionary heart to be a bride of Christ; that saw her way to serve Him was to channel all her energies into the love and reparation of the Cloister.

The idea of work being ‘a grace’ had been a novel one in Saint Clare’s thirteenth century. It is more novel in Sister Maria’s time. A thousand laborsaving devices that seemed to be constituted to abolish work – they did things simply in the Cloister. Theirs was a pure life and the hard work stopped Maria’s mind from wandering.

She saw Christian motherhood and consecrated virginity form a marvelous entity. Each fulfilling. Each was a symbol of her divine devotion. The sacrament of matrimony symbolized to her, the union of Christ with the Holy Church. Being a consecrated virgin symbolized the union of Christ with the souls of the blessed. Each was a positive thing. To her, virginity was no more a mere negation of motherhood than human maternity was a mere negation of her virginity.

Sister Amanda, her learned colleague of more than three years and from the same Cloister had taken the solemn vow of chastity. She was slender and slight in build and refreshingly attractive in comparison to the other sun-hardened sisters. Maria had observed her at bathing times and knew her body was toned from a lifetime dedicated to the work of the Lord – but still, a beautiful sight to behold. She knew her fellow nun and saw her vows as not just a pledge to abstain from the pleasures of carnal love, nor a promise to refrain from normal effective fulfillment, but a positive flaming, soaring commitment of her womanhood to their mutual Divine Lover.

The six other Pseudo-Sisters were not from her Cloister. She had been told that they were visiting from an overseas part of the Order. She had been led to believe that they all practiced the Order’s ancient and elaborate ceremony for the consecration of virgins, including its climax of placing a wedding ring on the finger of the newly professed nun – a loving gesture.

Maria welcomed the enigmatic Sister Lexus and her foreign group. Tonight would be a joyous occasion for consecrating a new member – Sandra. Sister Lexus had explained that she had joined the Sisters on a mission so that she could be sure that the life of a cloistered nun was what she wanted. In addition, their entourage included two-orphaned children, who were under the care of the Sisterhood until their return.

She could not remember exactly where they had come from… or where they were going next. None of this seemed strange to the good Sister, as she had worked many other parts of the Order before … even meeting them in this rather strange old Masonic hall had been accepted without question … their work was their reward. They would all share the perfume of joy.

“By the sweat of your face shall you get bread to eat; until you return to the ground, from which you were taken; for you are dirt, and to dirt you shall return — Genesis chapter 3 verse 19,” recited the devout Sister Maria.

“The wind blows where it wills, and you can hear the sound it makes, but you do not know where it comes from or where it goes; so it is with everyone who is born of the Spirit — John chapter 3 versus 8,” replied Lexus through a pure white smile.

“Sisters, I must thank you for entertaining our wishes to consecrate the newest recruit. My apologies for the hour; but our travel schedule is such that we must be a little unorthodox. This is the last opportunity for us to share our special ritual,” replied Lexus.

Maria was used to praying late at night. They had a saying at the Cloister – ‘The first of the canonical hours of the Divine Office should be chanted at midnight while the world around is sleeping or perhaps sinning.’

“Sin loves the cover of night,” added Amanda rather nervously.

It was obvious she did not like this place and felt uncomfortable with these strange Sisters.

“Surely the Devil needs no cover Sister, for he is everywhere? Even within the walls of our blessed Cloister? His fingers touch our flesh and make us wet,” said Lexus with false modesty.

Maria knew she was right. This Sister dared to say what was on her mind. Though it revolted her — the fact was that even in her beloved Sisterhood there was no escaping the temptations of the flesh. The Devil was omnipresent. She nodded in respect to this wise Sister.

“Then, so be it, and without delay, let us consummate the marriage between Sister-Novice Sandra and the Lord, so that we may be on our way back to the Cloisters?” insisted Amanda.

“Bring forth Sister-Novice Sandra, so that she may receive this ring that marks her as a bride of God. From novice-ship to Sisterhood, our new Sister will be wedded to Christ. It would be, as it always has been among the Poor Clares, a fecund union of souls,” recited Sister Maria holding a simple wedding band in one hand and her Bible in the other.

Stepping forward, Sandra removed her drab grey habit and revealed her white bridal nightgown as she placed her veil upon her crown. She then knelt before the two Sisters. Lexus stood behind them Sandra, while her fellow witches circled them all. Sally and Stephen, each dressed in nothing but a simple white loincloth stood behind Sandra each held a large bouquet of barbed birch twigs that had been soaked in vinegar. The witches watched and waited for the sign.

Maria looked at Sandra in utter shock. The Sisters were supposed to dress as brides before God, yes, but how could she dare to wear something so transparent? So revealing, so sheer? Maria could clearly see Sandra’s aroused nipples and clean-shaven vagina – this was completely blasphemous!

Sandra looked up mischievously at Maria who still stood completely stupefied as Sandra caressed herself at her feet. Without a word, the witches quickly moved to restrain the two real Sisters of the cloth – holding them both firmly. The old Masonic hall seemed to groan around them, as the true nature of what was about to take place was unveiled to them.

“What … what are you doing Sisters?” bleated the dumbstruck Maria, “Let me go immediately!”

One of the witches bludgeoned Amanda around the skull with a wooden crucifix. She fell to the ground and was rendered temporarily unconscious. While Maria struggled against the two witches that held her fast, Lexus used a razor-sharp knife to cut her robes from her body. Lexus stood back and admired her handiwork – the now naked Sister tried to cover her most intimate parts unsuccessfully as she was held firmly. Lexus grabbed the nun’s naked breasts and then molested her vagina.

“Consecrated Virgin. How delicious? I can smell your delightful uncontaminated cunt. Come, worship Satan with his witch-lovers and yours will not be the same fate as your fucked-up Sister?”

“I … I don’t understand?” mumbled Maria as she stared without expression.

Tears filled her eyes. The ferocity of the evil witches’ attack left her stunned.

Two witches retrieved Amanda’s body from the ground. Blood trickled down the side of her head. They tore her robe from her semi-conscious body and prepared to nail her upside-down to the large wooden cross ready for a birching. The two children eagerly removed their loincloths and brought forth their evil bouquets for use to beat the Sisters. They stood on either side of their mother, Sandra, idly masturbating themselves in full view of the now catatonic Maria.

“You don’t get it? You really don’t get it? You’re about to die you stupid bitch! I’m going to cut your throat and drink your blood!” spat Lexus at her in her murderous rage.

Lexus nodded to the two children, who began to take turns in birching Maria across her exposed chest, marking her with cuts and lacerations from the vinegar-soaked thorns. Maria screamed in response.

“Aarrughhhhhhh …. Stop! Stop! Please don’t kill me,” cried Maria.

She watched in abject horror as they drive the long black nails into Amanda’s wrists and ankles as she screamed back into consciousness.

Hell had broken loose. The now completely naked congregation leered over their prey with obvious sexual thirst — hungry for virgin blood and perversity of their ritual bloody orgy.

Maria almost fainted as she hung limply from the pain of the birching. Her mind was unable to accept the turn of events — while Amanda now screamed from the excruciating pain of the puncture wounds in her arms and legs. Maria’s bowels opened and her knees gave way and the two witches used this to force her to kneel before their Lexus. Lexus rubbed her fingertips in the blood pouring from Amanda’s ankles. She brought it firstly to her mouth, sucking her fingers rapaciously – she viciously dug her fingers into Amanda’s inverted vagina and then rubbed more virgin blood around her own enlarged clitoris until it had grown to about seven inches long with the appearance of a thick cock.

“Why shouldn’t I kill you?”

Maria remembered how she had felt when she first saw Amanda naked. How she had flushed at the sight of her pert young breasts and the neatly trimmed pubic hair that framed the narrow lips of her pouting vagina. It was a feeling that she had suppressed then and after on more than one occasion.

She hated herself for it.

It went against everything that she had vowed and held sacred. She had prayed all night to rid herself of the image of her fellow Sister. Sin loves the cover of the night! It had been the Devil’s fingers making her wet! Yes, it had been the Devil’s fingers that had made her wet, but it had been her own fingers that fashioned the long white penis from the altar candle to push between the wetness.

“Please don’t kill me … I am a sham! I have been touched by the fingers of the Devil! I am no longer a virgin, as I have already penetrated myself … I do it tirelessly, wantonly in the desire of the flesh of my own Sisters … let me give myself to Satan and I will bring you many more consecrated virgins from the cloisters … young ones, tender ones, ones who will not be missed!”

Lexus smiled with surprise. She pushed her finger into the rectum of the upside-down sister, who was still screaming in pain as the blood ran to her head making the veins in her forehead bulge. She was surprised at the nun’s spontaneous confession – but not quite convinced of her sincerity.

“Prove it to me,” hissed Lexus licking her own lips with her split-forked tongue.

“Anything! Please! I will do anything!” Maria replied desperately.

Lexus offered the Sister her finger. She hesitantly opened her mouth and sucked upon the filthy brown stains.

“Then birch your Sister’s cunt; rape her with us; partake of her virgin blood and I may reconsider your fate …”

It had proven to be a fruitful relationship. Sister Maria had been a highly successful convert. Sandra had accented to witch-hood. Maria had been turned into a vicious cannibalistic disciple of Satan – bringing the coven many young sisters to kill at the Masonic hall.



The world belonged to the Devil. Longinus watched the old Masonic hall through his binoculars. The buildings themselves were mostly of Victorian age, but he knew the site itself was much older. It was an enclave of demonic lust, where human sacrifices had been made for more than half a millennium. He could smell the evil in the air. The large chimney stake blew dark smoke, no doubt their method of leaving no evidence behind.

They would replenish their flock from afar, probably Russia or Asia, where children were bought and sold at a very reasonable price, though again, the price would be no obstacle to these wicked creatures, they would fuel their crooked empire on child and snuff pornography – after all, they invented the credit card and the internet as a pipeline for delivering the seeds of their perversion, to share their message of blasphemy and debauchery with a world filled with willing new slaves to Satan’s lust!

In ancient times, his father had told him that these demons were the landlords, who lived off the misery of their serfs – the peasant people would work the land and their toil would be paid with begrudging reward. For those who were more willing, they could earn a few pieces of gold by giving up their young ones. It was an unsaid thing that was not widely discussed, few knew the fate of these innocent ones, and those who knew were more than willing to serve these evil masters in return for wealth and power. Trade was brisk and the demons could do as they pleased, answering to no one.

It had been in those early times that the church had started as a small, almost insignificant force against these evil monsters. And when the demons realized the growing power base of religious infrastructure – they penetrated it, owned it, and made their own kind its ministers, bishops, cardinals, and popes. They had found another method of exploitation of mankind that made them even stronger. The outward world saw the pious living of its monks — this was a decoy for the molestation of the young; they even called them ‘molls’ as a designation for those who were to be abused, raped, and sacrificed in the name of their foul antichrist.

Longinus remembered the story his father had told him about the Spanish Inquisition. It was unimaginable to consider, how the very instrument of religious government could be used in such an evil way. The evidence of the infiltration of demons was so blatant — yet even our historians could not see it for what it really was. They had found a way to hide in the open.

Their witch hunts were nothing more than an extension of their secret activities — but through the work of the so-called inquisitors they could select the most innocent, most beautiful, and the most pious to be subjected to sexual abuse, torture, and mutilation all in the name of the Church. Under the pain of death, they could extract confessions that justified their evil and wicked behavior – their most powerful weapon was

FEAR and they dispensed it with vengeance!

‘Those Who Know’ saw these patterns, observed their behaviors, and understand the reality of the situation. They fought in secret – never making their clandestine crusade obvious – it was more surgical and undertaken with stealth, rather than an obvious declaration of war. For if the demons knew of their existence, they too would be quickly infiltrated and corrupted. Unlike the battles of men, of sword and shield, this foe could reach their enemies through dreams and nightmares.

His learned colleagues had a book; actually, it was more of a register. They called it the ‘Book of Demons’ that chronologically captured the growth of evil through powerful figures and institutions in our human history. The world was not ready to know about the ‘Book of Demons’ and the names, events, and their influence, would be seen as fanciful, implausible, and far-fetched – because the enormity of the acceptance of such conjecture was just not fathomable. Even ‘Those Who Know’ fought with the vastness and terrible truth. But to KNOW, was to accept, and to accept was to mean that you must face its atrociousness.


Gareth and Simone Fuller, forty and thirty-eight years old respectively, had been with Longinus from the beginning. They had joined the crusade five years after the loss of their own child; a young girl called Olivio, who had been only eleven at the time of her disappearance. Gareth, a devout Christian had pursued every avenue of help from police to private detectives, even a television appearance pleading for her safe return; but then there was nothing about her abduction that had made any sense. The police had closed the file as simply a runaway and the private detectives had turned up a blank.

The public prosecutor hinted at foul play on the part of the parents but reluctantly conceded with the lack of evidence that they had murdered their own kin. He still could not sleep at night imagining her fate. He had to know. Simone, at the time of her conception, had been consumed in violent and highly sexual dreams – they never put the two together until they became part of ‘Those Who Know’. Evidence suggested that she could be of inhuman conception, a thought that turned Gareth inside out with anger; and Simone with guilt and culpability. Their marriage had fallen apart because of it, but knowing had brought them together in the search for the truth.

Simone had a pretty face and bright red lips that matched her dyed cherry hair. Her breath stunk of stale tobacco, as she had been chain smoking for years. In truth, she harbored secret thoughts that she dared not share with Gareth and the others. She never told him about the actual conception and how it had felt for fear of his rebuttal and disapproval. She had experienced the demons firsthand and could testify to their seductiveness.

She remembered it as if it were yesterday. She had wanted a child with Gareth and the two of them had been trying to conceive together unsuccessfully. Simone had prayed to Mother Mary for her help and blessing. Lighting a candle was a daily routine. It was on this occasion that Gareth had been making love to her. It had been rather mechanical and she lay on her back as he did his best. She had never been able to achieve orgasm with Gareth, but as a good wife, had pretended to enjoy their lovemaking. In truth, the tenderness felt nice and immediately after he ejaculated inside of her, she kissed him and they both fell into a deep sleep.

His innate semen was to make no difference to her. But as she slipped into a beautiful deep sleep, she saw the Immaculate Mother appear to her. A divine vision of womanly beauty – the Mother of Christ bathed in radiant white light. She smiled and spoke to her in Latin — Simone could not translate but intuitively understood her.

The Mother was there to help her, she had heard her prayers and told her to do as she commanded and she would conceive the gift of a magnificent young child. She asked the Immaculate Mother for a girl that would be the apple of her husband’s eye. And the Immaculate Mother had said that everything was possible, but she needs to be willing to accept the Holy Seed as her husband would never allow her to conceive. She felt sad that the child would be not of their union but elated that the Immaculate Mother could grant her this wish. They would bring the child up as their own.

The Holy Seed was a gift from the angels; and as the Immaculate Mother instructed her, Simone willing submitted her self and body to the Will of God as she knelt naked on all fours with leg sprayed to receive this wondrous gift that would spawn life within her womb. The Immaculate Mother removed her white shroud and as Simone looked back across her shoulder she was surprised to see her in her unclothed and androgynous form. Her soft feminine curves, ample bosom, and an enormous phallus that stood erect between her milky thighs.

Beneath it, hang two testicles heavy and low; as pre-cum dripped from the pale mushroom head of her bulging veined penis. The Immaculate Mother knelt between Simone’s open thighs and began to rub the watery tip over the opening to Simone’s vagina and anus – lubricating them as well as pressing increasingly harder against Simone’s clitoral hood. A host of angels had gathered to sing in chorus the songs of heaven and celebrate this moment of penetration. She could see that the angels were too excited by this moment, as they were also naked and turgid as they grouped closely around them.

Simone felt the hands of the Immaculate Mother; steady her as the tip of her enormous penis began to enter her vagina. It felt so different from anything she had experienced with Gareth her husband. She had been a virgin bride and Gareth had been her only lover. Now, as the Immaculate Mother entered her vagina from the rear, she felt full. Even with only half of the length of the Holy Cock inside her, its girth alone stretched her like she had never felt before.

She felt the Immaculate Mother push until the bulbous head of the Holy Cock reached up into her cervix. Simone panted and did something she would never dare to do with her husband — her hand reached below her and began to rub her clitoris, in time with a slow seesaw movement of the enormous throbbing cock. The pleasure of immense and for the first time during intercourse she groaned out loud in sexual pleasure as she squeezed her vagina muscles tightly around the invading piece of meat. The angels seemed to applaud her.

“Yes, pleasure yourself on the Holy Cock,” whispered the voices of the angels.

Simone eagerly thrust back to meet the increasingly vigorous movements of the Immaculate Mother. The pleasure seemed to increase as she allowed herself to think lewd thoughts. She looked at the admiring angels, who were no longer statues of virtue, but all masturbating furiously as they wantonly encouraged her animalistic display of sexual abandonment.

“Yes, give yourself fully and worship the Holy Cock,” they encouraged.

With each thrust, Simone felt more and more whorish. Soon she wanted to be fucked by the filthy huge cock – not because of the conception – but because she wanted this nasty feeling and pleasure to increase even more. She wanted to feel herself fucked with increasingly violent movements that intensified her sexuality.

The Holy Cock moved out of her vagina briefly and then reentered her; at the same time, she felt another cock press against her impossibly tight sphincter. Yes, she wanted it up her shitter. Fuck my filthy dirty shit-filled ass she thought, as Simone pressed backward, reveling in the attention of these fallen angels.

“Yes, enjoy the double penetration and worship cock with all your holes.”

The other angels moved closer until Simone was surrounded by pre-cum dripping cocks, all eager to enter her mouth, cunt, and ass. Simone groaned loudly as she took another cock into her hand, guiding it towards her mouth she wrapped her lips around its helmet head and sucked it like a practiced whore. Forgetting that she had never taken her husband’s cock in her mouth for fear of being labeled promiscuous or worse, a cheap harlot.

She simply didn’t care. All she could think about was sucking, fucking, and cumming. She was close to her orgasm as the first of the angel’s cocks came in her mouth – the hot spunk spurted into the back of her throat. She swallowed it greedily and took another eager cock between her lips. She felt others cumming over her back as the sensation in her vagina caused her to spasm in overwhelming ecstasy.

“Hail cock … hail cock … hail cock …” cried the fallen angels as they all began to orgasm with Simone.

No sooner had she cum when her eyes popped open. She was lying in her matrimonial bed, next to her sleeping husband. Her body was twisted in the bed sheet and drenched in sweat. Her breathing was still highly elevated – the vividness of the dream overwhelmed her with guilt. She had committed a vile sin – she knew at that moment that she had welcomed the devil between her leg and she had not resisted, quite the contrary, she had enjoyed it, wanted it, and still wanted it again.

Her fingers began to touch herself as she wriggled in the damp bedding – sticking eager digits up her wet cunt, she moaned quietly, not wanting to awaken her husband until she reached another climax, she thought of lewd things … of black demons with long cocks fucking her and filling her with their evil cock slime.

“Fuck me demons … Fuck me demons …” she whispered over and over to herself.

It took her over the top as she bucked uncontrollably against her hand in another earth-shattering orgasm.



Gareth could see the pain in Simone’s eyes. He had seen it for years. He’d given up telling her to stop smoking, as it made her even more stubborn and determined. Ever since the abduction of their daughter, he had been burning with self-blame. Sabrina Chatwin and Douglas Warren consoled their colleagues. Sabrina had lost her twin sister and Douglas had lost his younger brother. The two had become close friends and under the guidance of Simone, they had regained the confidence to fight back. Now it was her turn as they wrapped their arms around Simone as she sobbed.

Gareth’s pious nature had been severally tested and once he had joined this group of religious zealots bent on the destruction of the army of darkness, his sense of purpose and even his life force seemed to be refocused. He knew long before meeting Longinus the persuasive power that Cambions had. Though he disguised and buried the shame deep inside his memories plagued his moments of weakness with masturbatory fury.

She must have been no longer than seven years when Gareth started to notice Olivio – not in a loving fatherly manner, but in sexual attractiveness. She seemed to know that he looked at her at bath times, and with those big blue innocent eyes, she seemed to encourage him as she stood, sat, knelt, and lay in very revealing positions. It would drive him crazy with thoughts he knew were wrong and inappropriate, but despite his beliefs and religious encoding, he could not stop his incestuous voyeurism.

Olivio was the smartest in everything she did. For her age, she was advanced in her studies as well as her sports and recreational activities, winning medals in track and field, and gaining the valuable accolades of her academic teachers. She even became the head girl that year, voted by her primary school peers. She had developed a love of ballet and as it was Gareth’s job to ferry her back and forth between classes, as well as attend her dancing competitions together with Simone, he was very used to seeing her in her tight little leotard with precious little else to cover her moist camel-toed crutch and braless bumps of undeveloped preteen breasts. It gave him a roaring erection without fail.

“Daddy, can you watch? Daddy, can you watch me? Let me show you what we learned today.”

The precocious little seven-year-old pulled her father’s arm and dragged him to the basement practice room, with its smooth cork floors and floor-to-ceiling mirrors. Simone was leading choir practice and father and daughter were alone for the next three hours. Gareth allowed her to lead him downstairs and he sat down in his loose shorts and t-shirt in one of the oversized beanbags to watch his favorite prance and perform for him. Tonight felt no different, but Olivio seemed hell-bent on getting his absolute attention. She told him to cover his eyes until the music started. He compiled.

The music was primitive and eerie – and as he opened his eyes, he could see Olivio was only dressed in ballet shoes and a short black tutu. His little ballerina began to dance naked in front of her awe-struck father. The dance was beautifully and precisely executed, with Arabesque turns, Attitude leg raises, little Balloon bounces and her favorite, Pas de chat (step of the cat).

His eyes lured at the flashes of her tiny open pussy and pointed nipples as her lyrical dance became increasingly lewd and explicit. He wanted her to stop this incestuous seduction that filled his mind with filthy and perverted thoughts, he could not stop her, even if he wanted to … instead, he sat still nursing an uncontrollable erection that seeps precum into the front of his shorts – he was completely mesmerized by this carnal display of lustiness as she began to touch herself as she gyrated and thrust her hips in perfect time with the music.

“A penny for your thoughts?” asked Sabrina.

Gareth felt the spell was broken, if only temporarily, but long enough to bring him back to the moment. His face was flushed as he tried to suppress the shameful memory of Olivio’s Lolita seduction.

“Sorry, Sabrina. I … I was daydreaming about my daughter.”

It was the truth — but certainly not the whole truth.

“Are you hungry? Douglas and I were going to grab a bit to eat; do you want to join us? I think Simone has settled down. I know the two of you are both still very sensitive about your loss.”

Was she at a loss? Gareth knew what she was. He knew from the moment she began her relentless sexual pursuit of both him and her mother, Olivio was a Cambion – half-human, half-sex-demon, conceived not of his semen, but from his wife’s indiscretion with an incubus. There would have been others.

She would have been sexually active with school friends. Those sleepovers. He could smell her scent on many of their household objects, hairbrush handles, deodorant sticks – they were obviously her masturbatory tools. He couldn’t resist her. Her mouth. Her pussy. Her anus. She fucked him every opportunity they got. And he had seen her with Simone … the two of them in mutual oral sex … he had even heard his wife cry out in perverted ecstasy as they ground their clits together … cry out in orgasm to the Devil.


It was Sabrina.

“Yes. I am hungry. I’ll join you for a bit.”


Sabrina and Douglas shared some very dark secrets together – both of the teens had lost siblings under strange circumstances and both were incest victims. Sabrina’s twin, Catherine, had been twelve years old when she vanished; likewise, Douglas had lost his eleven-year-old brother, Samuel.

They had met through a church support group that helped young children who had suffered family turmoil of various kinds, including strong domestic violence, teen pregnancies, drug addictions, rape, suicides, and incest. They bonded almost immediately and despite their staunchly religious indoctrination, had eventually become secret lovers. Sabrina was now twenty-two and Douglas twenty-four, but their losses both seemed still immediate.

Sabrina’s twin, Catherine, was not identical. She was taller, stronger, smarter, and very attractive; whereas Sabrina suffered from being in her twin’s shadow in every dimension – almost from birth, her parents seemed to favor Catherine at Sabrina’s cost.

Not knowing any better, she had accepted this all, and, in fact, looked up to her twin sister, admiring her despite it all. As they celebrated their sixth birthday things began to change for the worse. Catherine became increasingly vindictive towards her sibling – it reminded Sabrina of the cuckoo. They had learned about this at school. And though it was an impossible notion to conceive, it felt like, she was from a different breed, placed in the Chatwin family. And just like the cuckoo’s siblings, it seemed to Sabrina that she was trying to push her out of the nest.

Catherine could never do anything wrong in the eyes of her mother. She doted over everything she achieved, and Sabrina developed a deep dislike of the obvious favoritism. Her sister was very dominating and bossy – she was always telling her what to do, what not to do; and forever taking credit for anything that was ever done around the home.

Catherine’s confidence extended to her preteen sexuality, she seemed to naturally know what sex was all about and took an interest in Sabrina’s education – as if it were some sort of a game. As they still shared a room at night with single beds arranged next to each other, Sabrina would hear her sister making noises in her bed at night. At first, she pretended to be asleep, but it became clear to Sabrina, that her sister’s intent was not to be discrete, as if she got a kick out of knowing her twin was listening to her nocturnal activities.

The next morning Catherine would act as if nothing had happened. After about a week of this, it was obvious that Catherine had gotten bored with this. At bedtime, after prayers and lights out, Catherine whispered to get Sabina’s attention.

“Saby … Saby … You still awake?”

“Yes Cathy,” Sabrina responded in a whisper.

“You want to play a game? A secret game?” asked Catherine.

Sabrina liked to be asked by her sister, as she normally wouldn’t be bothered with her, and to share a secret with her sister was something special.

“Come and get in my bed, but first … take off your nightgown.”

The room was very dark and with the heavy curtains closed there was almost pitch-blackness. Of course, she did as her bossy sister told her and she slipped out of a long nightgown and climbed into the bedclothes next to her sister.

“Saby. You’re such a good girl,” Sabrina liked the compliment, “I like it when you do what I say.”

The attention six-year-old Sabrina felt really nice for a change from Catherine’s usual bitchy demeanor. Sabrina felt weird being naked in bed and quickly discovered her sister was too. Catherine hugged her sister close in the darkness. Feeling Catherine’s warm body next to her was strange but not unpleasant.

“Mmmm … you’re nice and warm, Saby.”

“Does it feel weird to you being nude in bed Cathy?”

“No not at all. I like your soft skin against mine. Does it feel nice to you?”

“Well, sort of.”

“Good, then you’re almost ready to play the secret game.”

“Why almost?”

“Cos you have to make a promise.”

“Yes, I can do that,” Sabrina thought out loud.

“Good. And the promise is that you can’t tell anyone about our secret game. Ever. Right? Not Mom or Dad, no one … anyway if you do say anything, I will say you made it all up and they will not believe you anyway … But you still got to promise me, on your life, cross your heart and hope to die!”

“I promise not to tell.”

The warning seemed rather irrelevant, as Sabrina always knew where she stood in her own family. Sabrina noticed a funny smell and that her sister was very wet between the legs.

“What’s that funny smell? Have you made pee or something, cos you’re really wet down there?” asked Sabrina.

“Well … I can tell you that it’s all part of our secret game – one that only we girls can play together.”


Sabrina was really excited … at last, there was some special bond between them, something she shared with her sibling, despite everything else.

“Now tell me Saby. Do you know what frigging is?”

“No, I don’t.”

“Well let’s say it is a way of making yourself feel very good. You can do it on your own …”

“Is that what those strange noises I heard at night coming from your side of the room?” asked Sabrina who had become extremely interested in this game.

“YES! YES! So you did hear me? You pretended to sleep didn’t you?” asked Catherine, her voice lifted above a whisper in excitement at her sibling’s observation, “Anyway … as I was saying, frigging makes you feel like there is an explosion between your legs and you feel warm all over.”


“I thought it could be even more fun if we frig together?”

“But Cathy … I don’t know how to do what’s-me-calls-it.”

“Frigging,” corrected Catherine, sounding a little frustrated with her sister’s lack of initiation.

“Yes, frigging … but I don’t know how?”

Catherine sniggered against her sister’s neck and Sabrina felt a little ticklish at her sister’s touch.

“I will show you Saby,” her voice sounded deeper and more secretive.

Sabrina could feel her sister’s touch in the dark, as Cathy held Sabrina’s hand and guided between her wet thighs.

“There,” Cathy said as she drew in a sharp breath, “There … mmmm … touch me there.”

Catherine gently rubbed Sabrina’s fingers up and down her puffy labia until she got the idea of how to touch her. She then pushed her thumb against her erect clitoris, rubbing Sabrina’s fingers there in a gentle circular motion.

“That’s it, don’t stop. Rub it a little harder … mmmmm.”

Catherine moved her other hand between Sabrina’s thighs.

“Open your legs, Saby.”

Sabrina felt very strange. She wanted to stop this disgusting game. Touching her sister between the legs was not her idea of a nice game. But she really didn’t want to spoil this feeling of connection with her twin, even if it wasn’t exactly her preference.

“Open your legs, Saby,” ordered Catherine in an impatient tone.

Sabrina predictably complied with Catherine’s request. Catherine’s fingers matched the movement and speed of Sabrina’s.

“Good girl. Doesn’t it feel nice?”

Sabrina felt warmth between her thighs that she had never experienced before. Yes, it felt rather wonderful … ticklish at first, but as her sister’s practiced fingers worked on her ultra-sensitive clitoris, she let out an unexpected moan.

“Good girl. You want me to stop?”

“No please don’t stop, Cathy.”

“Good girl. Press your fingers harder against me.”

Sabrina did as she was told and was rewarded in kind, with even greater pleasuring to her outer pussy lips and direct pressure against her clit. The moisture between her legs had become more noticeable, as had the wetness of her sister’s.

“Aargh …” Catherine was getting close to orgasm.

“Sorry, Cath … am I hurting you?”

“No, no, quite the opposite … it feeling so fucking hot! Press harder now,” quickly panted Cathy.

Sabrina felt her sister’s finger push her button and all of a sudden she exploded in unexpected and intense delight. Her whole body began to shake from her toes to her ears. Without warning, it was like a lightning bolt had hit her – she grabbed her sister and held her tightly.

“Nasty Saby … mmm you’re a nasty girl!” Catherine panted into her ear in her own post-orgasmic delight.


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