DISCLAIMER: 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. 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. All Rights Reserved © 2023 LITTLESALLY666.

STORY CODES: Black Magic, Witchcraft, Satanic, Abuse, Corruption, Evil, Devil Worship, NC, Sexual Sin, Sex Demons, Orgy. BDSM, Young, Incest.

CREATED: 17.11.2020 MAGGIE & KRIS / REVISITED: 08.09.2023


Pleasure Has No Boundaries 8


The setting is two years ago in Hong Kong — Kris is an outsider. She likes to keep her hair short and her petite and slender body makes her look much younger than she is. She has no fixed address (though recently she rented a run-down apartment in Mong Kok). She is a sadistic lesbian pedophile, a Satanist, and a practitioner of black magic. What’s more, is that she is rumored to have connections with organized crime involved with the trafficking of young children for prostitution.

Maggie comes from a third-generation Catholic family. She’s a Sunday school teacher for the young kids of their church community. She also provides premarital counseling for couples who seek to be married in the church. Her husband, Alfred, is the CFO of a large international firm — so Maggie lives a privileged expatriate lifestyle (living high up on the hillside of Central). As the mother, Maggie struggles with a rebellious thirteen-year-old daughter.

So what kind of association would Maggie have with Kris? Why would they plan to meet up in Mong Kok? What possible reason would there be for Maggie to be excited about their rendezvous? — Fast forward to today (COVID-19) — Maggie’s husband dies of a massive heart attack. At fifty-five, he had all the warning signs, but chose to ignore them, meanwhile eating and drinking whatever he wanted. Though there is nothing suspicious about it — Maggie’s mother-in-law is not settled about her son’s death.


  • Maggie (39) – our protagonist. Christian, Sunday school teacher, bi, shoulder-length hair, slim build, small tits/AB-cup, very attractive
  • Kris (49) – Maggie’s secret lover, satanist, connected to the 14K triads and child trafficking, pedophile, petite, A-cup, shaven, short hair, slim build
  • Gin (13) – Maggie’s daughter, quiet and brooding, dancer, A-cup
  • Man Yi AKA Ay Yi (8) – Abigail’s daughter, small, petite, A-cup
  • Abigail (35) – Mother of Man Yi, Tai Tai, bi, satanist, another lover of Kris’s
  • Alfred (55) – Husband of Maggie, Regional CFO of MNC
  • Deborah (70) – Maggie’s stepmother-in-law, very young-looking



Kris waited across the street. She had a clear line of sight into the ice cream shop. It wasn’t her thing, but she figured it was public enough for her date to feel safe, but also private enough for her seduction. She was supposed to meet a woman she met online recently. A religious woman. A mother. Her name was Maggie something. A rich bitch that lived the whole expat lifestyle thing with executive hubby. Bored with her fat fuck husband who couldn’t get it up, Kris thought she sounded desperate and frustrated enough to want to try something Sapphic and very blasphemous.

Kris had found out that Devil worship was new to her. imagine that. Previously a devout Christian, it had been a challenge to get her going — but once Kris had started her down the dark path, she couldn’t get enough. She would do anything Kris wanted her to do. Of course, Kris had an ulterior motive. The kicker was that the Sunday school teacher had a young daughter that sounded exactly what Kris was after. The taste of fresh meat.

So the plan was simple enough — seduce the mother and get to deliver her daughter into the hands of Lilith. It wasn’t the first time she’d used this ploy. Probably wouldn’t be the last. She’d been babysitting another woman’s child. The mother, Abigail, was more than willing to involve her own eight-year-old daughter in their satanic sex games. She would introduce Maggie to Abigail’s daughter — get lots of video footage of the Sunday school teacher fucking a child — that would be great blackmail material as well as a security deposit (just in case Mother Teresa gets cold feet and tries to back out).

Ever since Kris had gotten involved with Triads things had changed dramatically. Hong Kong was one of their preferred hubs for sex trafficking. Mong Kok was both a transit and a destination for their trade-in young girls. Some as young as nine or ten. The market for young flesh had grown exponentially, with girls from China, India, and the Philippines. They used Kris as a handler. Her job was to break the new girls in. Get them ready for their pedophile customers. The gangsters boasted about how many there were and how much they’d pay to their young treats.

Of course, it helped that, Kris, herself was a pedophile and was totally into the work. And it paid well. Why not. She loved her job and she was very good at it. There was nothing she loved better than to fuck an eight-year-old virgin — rape her cunt and make her bleed. It was sadistic — but that was her reward from Satan — as Kris truly saw herself as nothing short of being a sex demon.

She recognized Maggie as the woman arrived at the downtown ice cream shop. She was dressed in black. Modest and unassuming — so she wouldn’t attract unwanted attention. Couldn’t have her high-tea ladies seeing her meet a short-haired dyke looking for a cunt to suck. Kris laughed to herself. The woman was totally shocked when she first shared a real hardcore child porn video with her. Kris had been careful to use a double encryption — as she didn’t want to attract unnecessary attention to her random seductions. Kris had a huge collection of abusive child porn — she even had a few snuff movies. The more violent they were — the more Kris got off. Though Kris reveled in the sickest, twisted, and perverted sex — being born into an occult family, she’d actually killed several children before. But that had been a while ago.

Kris watched Maggie as she sat and waited for her. She’d keep her waiting a little longer — it always made the seduction sweeter. Maggie would be wondering if this was still a good idea — to meet a lesbian witch who wanted to fuck her child. Oops, no she would not mention that — not quite yet. Kris was small in stature — Maggie was definitely taller. This would give the woman a false sense of security. She would have no idea what Kris is capable of. And what of Maggie’s thirteen-year-old daughter? Maggie had been kind enough to share a few photos. The girl was definitely hot. Kris was already planning her daughter’s seduction. Kris got wet between the legs every time that spoke of her over the phone. She kept their masturbation talk focused on incest and sex with young children — Maggie would be her accomplice in the seduction of her kin.

”You came,” said Kris as she sat down opposite the nervous woman, “I was afraid you wouldn’t come.”

The thirty-something woman smiled nervously.

“I wouldn’t have dared to stand you up,” she admitted, “Just never done anything like this before.”

Kris could tell she was sexually excited already. She was eager to please her. Kris liked that. She could manipulate that. Kris would bring her back to her rented apartment that was only a short walk away. There she would bond her soul to Lilith. It would make the seduction easier and bring her closer to her desire — Maggie’s thirteen-year-old daughter. Not that she wouldn’t enjoy the sex was Maggie, who was a very attractive Asian woman. Maggie was slim with nice perky tits.

”Let Lilith guide you,” said Kris.

They talked quietly together. Thick as thieves. And soon the conversation turned to — sex and demons — sin and Satan. Kris placed her hand over Maggie’s. Maggie’s hands were moist with perspiration — Kris knew her cunt would also be wet and open.


They walked the short distance to Kris’ rundown apartment. From the exterior of the building block, Kris knew that it looked so old and decrepit — maybe Maggie would get cold feet and bolt it? She didn’t.

The interior of the four-story walk-up had been freshly renovated in a kind of darkly painted retro style. This was a far cry from the woman’s upscale expatriate lifestyle. Kris really didn’t give a fuck. She was feeling horny. Very horny. But there were things that needed to be attended to. Black magic things.

She sensed the woman’s nervousness at the sight of the huge demonic pentagram that Kris had painted across the dark floor. In front of them was low a bed that faced a candle-lit altar, that Kris had adorned with her most obscene of offerings — inverted crosses; long strings of black beads, a skull; a challis; with a phallic figurine of the goddess herself — Kris’ beloved Lilith.

She would need Maggie’s blood to kick start their evil game — that ended with Kris fucking Maggie’s daughter. She couldn’t wait. Fuck! She thought — as Maggie had so kindly provided lots of pictures of Gin, her thirteen-year-old — this would certainly help the magic along.

A gentle pin-prick in her finger. Then Kris guided Maggie’s hand so that her blood smeared across the statuette of Lilith. Kris immediately sucked the remaining blood from Maggie’s punctured finger. She loved the irony taste of blood — especially menstrual blood — as this was the blood of creation. Kris grinned wickedly. Maggie looked a little disconcerted at the ritualized nature — but the woman was thinking with her cunt and not her head — she wanted Kris to fuck her and that’s all she cared about.

“Inter sē geminōs audēs committere cunnōs …” chanted Kris.

The lust spell was almost in place. Kris began the chant. She knew her words would bind Maggie to her — like a slave — unable to resist her — willing to do anything asked. Maggie looked hypnotized as Kris began to undress her. Kris first ran her hands over the smoothness of the woman’s breasts, rib cage, and stomach — she was delicious. Kris was going to enjoy herself.

“Inter sē geminōs audēs committere cunnōs …”

Kris was undressed — her unnatural hunger was getting the better of her. They kissed for the first time. It began sensually but quickly escalated to something far more carnal. They ate each other’s mouths, like wild animals, as their mutual desires overflowed.

“Look at the altar. The Goddess calls you,” said Kris.

Kris rubbed Maggie’s juicy labia and then pressed her fingers inside the woman’s wet cunt.

“Aaaarghhhhh …” she groaned.

“Look at the altar. The Goddess calls you,” ordered Kris.

Maggie bucked against Kris’ hand — lost in her animalistic cravings. Kris pulled her downwards onto the low bed that had been positioned before the blasphemous altar. Kris spoke more elaborate enchantments as they both lay naked together. Kris’ fingers were followed by Kris’ her tongue. Maggie’s hips rose as Kris’s hands groped her backside for purchase as she drove her tongue deeper inside. Maggie gasped and looked almost drunk on lust.

“Inter sē geminōs audēs committere cunnōs …” Kris repeated over and over.


Kris took a long drag on her cigarette. She flicked the ash as blue-grey smoke expelled from her lips. She looked out of the fourth-story balcony of her apartment building and looked into the apartments opposite. Washing hung on bamboo poles; dirty air-conditioner units; and neon signs in Chinese characters — not exactly a great view and really not much of a balcony — as there was only enough for one person to stand.

It was eight o’clock in the evening. She’d met up earlier with Abigail, another supposedly heterosexual mother. Their sex had been hot. Abigail had an enormous clit that looked like a little boy’s cock. They had been lovers for a while and had shared Abigail’s eight-year-old daughter, Man Yi, on numerous occasions — she would introduce Maggie to Man Yi very soon. She would surprise her — that way, the woman couldn’t back out. It would take things to a whole new level.

Kris was forty-nine. She looked younger because of her slight build and personal style — which was always a bit on the Gothic side. Black was the new black. She knew it was a little expected of a witch. But what the fuck — if the shoe fits, wear it. How did she get here? She asked herself. A rhetorical question that had a hundred answers — but not one that explained it.

Work had been a little scary as the police had undertaken a number of raids, arresting suspects and seizing contraband. Kris had to keep a low profile for a while. The local police had arrested some four hundred people in a major triad operation targeting gangs that were supposedly making as much as HK$500,000 a day from crime. The police officers were still searching for ringleaders after raids in Yuen Long and Tin Shui Wai.

The late-night news said it had been a seven-day operation focused on illegal gambling dens, sex workers, and drug trafficking. In addition to gambling and vice activities, the news claimed that these gangs were also involved in drug trafficking, illegal debt collection, and the provision of children for associated pedophile rings. During their operation, police raided two public housing flats that were used by the gang as a drug distribution center and a mini arsenal to store weapons — but found no evidence of the underage sex workers shipped to Hong Kong from China, the Philippines, and India. According to official statistics, police handled 1,715 reports of triad-related crime in 2018, down 4.6 percent compared with 1,798 in 2017.


Maybe she should leave Hong Kong? She had false papers. There was always the UK. She knew that Maggie was originally a Singaporean. Singapore was a clean, well-organized place. Low crime didn’t mean no crime. And she had her stash. Her escape cash.

Kris thought back — how she had been “made this way’ — well, shaped by her mother, all those years ago …

Kris had been born into a family of wickedness. She never knew her father. Her mother never talked about him — like he was a ghost or something. Her mother had been a witch and a proponent of Black Magick as far back as Kris could remember. She was probably a witch long before Kris was even born.

Kris remembered how she never had a ‘normal’ upbringing. From a very early age, Kris had been exposed to their coven lifestyle of Sapphic sexual abuse, incest, and open pedophilia. The other coven witches had all abused her long before her sixth birthday. Perverted sex was a normality in her mother’s secretive cult.

Their coven was wealthy. She never knew where the money came from, only that they spared no expense on the lavishness of their covenstead temple — the area on which the compound was built had previously been consecrated ground (a church or a chapel) that had been ‘turned’ into the domain of demons through the spilling of the blood of innocents (many of them).

Kris had been something of a child protege. And as a teenager, she had risen quickly through the ranks of witches. But as early as her ninth birthday she had been given the ‘honor’ of making a human sacrifice to their highly sexualized Goddess, Lilith.

She’d witnessed this ritual before but had never thought of being the actual one to instigate the death of a newborn. She remembered how black her heart had become about that time — numbed by all the countless evil and wicked acts her ‘sisters’ routinely participated in. But, there was no denying her attraction to the dark craft. Sex and magic. Magic and sex. Her mother had given her detailed instructions of what to do and what was expected of her – the ritual had to be precise. This was no random thing.

The ritual began, as many others did with aberrant nakedness, sex dancing, heavy petting and continuous blasphemous chanting. At the stroke of midnight of the day before Lilith’s Day (Night). It was the twenty-fourth day of October — the day, that it was said, that Lilith had been forced out of paradise (the Garden of Eden). It was an annual ritual that the entire coven looked forward to; and preparations were always very carefully organized; well ahead of the appointed time.

Kris was dressed in a long thin black robe that concealed the strap-on that was partly inserted inside her own immature vagina. She was no virgin — having lost her hymen through object rape as a very young child. The dildo pressed upwards inside of her — making her feel stuffed with its plastic thickness. The straps pulled tightly around her and passed around her waist and between her buttocks, so that they held the demonic “wand” firm, rigid, and almost upright. It made young Kris feel like the Baphomet – only her chest was still flat as a pancake with only her tiny bumps crowned with ruby-red nipples that stood proud and excited.

The young sixteen-year-old breeder brought forth her newborn and placed it naked and exposed upon the narrow altar bed. The baby boy cried as it lay upon the black cloth covered with the Sigils of Lilith and Satan — the Mother and the Father. It appeared to be only a few days old. Born into the coven, breeders were used to produce young ones specifically for human sacrifice.

It was their way to elevate themselves within the coven — but that didn’t stop the other, more powerful witches, abusing them, torturing them, and even killing them – should they feel it necessary. There were no records of these coven births. Everything was taken care of within the secretive coven. Vows of secrecy had been made — breaking such vows would solicit a fate worse than death. There was never any evidence left behind and the covenstead’s basement furnace was in frequent use.

Her incestuous mother smiled evilly at her. She took her honored place as the coven’s high priestess. The other coven members also nodded their approval. Kris looked down upon the bundle of pink-skinned flesh as the crying baby was laid out on the dark altar.

It was always the way that the young one would have been tormented and terrorized before being put to death and eaten. Three witches stood around the baby. They eagerly masturbated themselves and smeared their cunt slime over the young one’s body — making it smell of their sexes — all oily and wet. They touched the baby boy’s tiny penis, bringing it to an erection, as they each sucked and licked it. Then, they squeezed it tightly between their adult fingertips — causing the baby to cry in pain. The witches laughed and continued to pinch and poke the baby boy cruelly. Each witch took turns to stand upon the evil altar — kneeling over the baby’s head, pressing her wet labia over its mouth and nose, cutting off its air supply. The chanting increased each time a witch masturbated over the baby’s upturned face.

Then the moment came. It was Kris’ part. The ritual climax. Kris stood at the edge of the black altar bed — her gown was removed and the witches excitedly cried for a “sacrifice”. Kris pressed the pointed phallus against the baby boy’s tiny anus. The entire coven was gathered around her in masturbatory bliss — their collective demonic force focused entirely on the actions on the altar bed. Most of the witches were close to orgasm as they screamed and chanted to their Queen of Hell — Lilith — the killer of newborns.




Maggie had become more and more enamored with her. Kris could not deign that the love spell that she had cast over the once religious woman, had furthered Kris’ agenda — but there was more to it than simply magic. Maggie’s enchantment had made her into a hypersexual and her salaciousness seemed to only increase over time.

Kris knew that she could get Maggie to do anything she wanted. No matter how perverted, wicked, or evil. But what she wanted most of all, was access to Maggie’s thirteen-year-old daughter, Gin. Pedophilia was an important part of her bizarre world. She lived for it — like a vampire desired blood. It was the only kind of sex that really got her off completely — it wasn’t just the young and innocent flesh she craved; Kris was captivated by the whole process of evil and corruption.

Maggie had been a delight. Taking her from a church-going, conservative mother and devoted wife — to a totally perverted, devil-worshiping lesbian pedophile had been a challenge all of its own … but, her daughter was a conquest that Kris could hardly contain her delight in beginning.

Maggie had willingly given Kris her daughter’s personal email address. Was she so hypnotized by Kris, that she hadn’t realized the consequences of her own actions? If she had not thought it through — it was her own fault. She could have stopped Kris anytime she wanted — and by default, she was now a co-conspirator in the seduction of her own kin. Kris had whispered so many deviant fantasies to Maggie that involved pedophilia and incest — there could be no doubt about what she intended to do with her daughter’s contact details.

Kris grinned widely at her own face, staring back at her in the mirror. Her short-cropped hair, girlish features, and petite body were so easily misleading. She looked a lot younger than her years. She appeared, even unto herself as modest, harmless, and demure. Nobody saw the demon that lay beneath her attractive features, pleasant demeanor, and disarming personality. They would never see her coming. They would never suspect the evil things that she had done and were capable of. She was a demon through and through — her mother’s daughter.

She was naked and horny as usual. She pissed in a long flute glass and sipped her own urine. The sour taste sharpened her evil lust. Her finger twisted her bullet-hard nipples and the weight of her satanic medallion felt cool against her sweating chest. She knelt momentarily at her altar to make an illicit prayer to her wanton Goddess. Yes, tonight would be the start of something very interesting.

She began to finger-fuck herself as she sat down at her old laptop computer. Opening her email browser, she began by typing in Gin’s address, then began to craft a simple note. She felt emboldened by the power she had over the young girl’s mother. Maybe she would allow her to watch. To watch her fuck little Gin — in all her holes. Watch her take her virginity for her Goddess. Maybe she wouldn’t tell her anything at all. Leave her to wander. To fear the worst — and to know Kris had poisoned her daughter’s innocent soul. Maybe she would hint at something, but be very evasive.

She would tell Maggie that — “This could be good for the both of us” — her cunt was wet and open as her fingers slid in and out of her needy cunny. Yes, she thought to herself — this was going to be such a delicious affair.


Gin had been looking at a few shows on YouTube and though usually she loved teen vampire stories, witchcraft, and all kinds of goth stuff, she was feeling kind of bored. A number of her school friends also followed these same shows, but her preference was for something darker in theme. She wasn’t sure why she got a kick out of the more macabre and twisted stories — but there was something about them that she identified with. But they weren’t really that extreme or even that particular, but she knew that her bible-bashing mother would definitely not approve.

It was then that she noticed an email from someone she did not know. She knew something about how predators looked for little girls to do perverted things with them. Yikes! She thought. Greasy old men flashing groups of school girls — it was so creepy. Usually, she would delete these messages immediately, but, on this occasion, she didn’t — as the message piqued her interest.

“Hi Gin, my name is Kris. I got your email address from your mother. But, don’t let that fool you. I am not like her. I know she is a controlling religious bitch and I just want to be a friend — I know what you are going through and if you ever want to talk to a real witch — I can be a powerful ally — here’s my mobile, if you ever want to chat — Hail Lilith.”

Gin knew something about Lilith through “Vampire Diaries” and again her name popped up in “Sabrina, The Teenage Witch”. She knew that Lilith was supposedly a strong female figure, evil and very seductive. Gin had never told her school friends about her sexual orientation and certainly, she would never mention it to her dumb-fuck-mother. What was this all about? Who was Kris? And what did she mean about being a real witch? Anyway, it was late. She put her unanswered questions aside. She was feeling tired and would think about it another day.


Gin was bored again. Her homework was boring. Her chores were boring. She was bored with the shows that she frequently watched. She needed something to break this depressive feeling of nothingness. WTF! She thought. She remembered the funny email she had received the night before. She opened her email and wrote down the number. It was a local Hong Kong number.

She felt a strange excitement creep into her tummy — like tiny butterflies. Maybe, it was just a stupid prank? No. It didn’t sound like one of her school friends — anyway, they were too stupid to concoct anything this strange. Lilith. The Queen of Hell. The killer of newborns. A witch. A real witch. She had to admit it, it was kind of cool. So how did this witch get her stupid mother to share her email address with this woman? Bewitched her? She laughed to herself. Stupid bitch.

Gin entered the number into her phone under the name Kris — and then typed a short message — “I’m bored with my life. Everything is so fucking grey. How can you help me?” — she pressed send. Nothing happened. Well, not immediately. She lazily began to scroll through her other messages. She was still bored.

Suddenly the phone pinged. A message from Kris?

The message read … “Do you like dark things?”

Gin typed … “What if I do? Who are you?”

“Do you like to be bad?”

Gin laughed and typed back … “Sometimes. Why did you say HAIL LILITH?”

“Because I worship her. Do you know who she is?” … “Have you ever been drawn to wickedness?”

This couldn’t be a friend of her mother’s? Her mother’s church ladies sat around at high tea talking about the pastor’s sermon, the Goddam fucking bible, and how Jesus said this, and the fucking Holy Mother did that. She replied … “I hate God. I hate church. I hate Christians!”

“So do I — want to play?”

Gin typed … “How do I know you’re not some old fucking pervert guy who’s jacking off right now?”

The phone was pinned and a picture appeared. It was the face of a cute girl — well, more of a woman than a girl. It was hard to tell how old she was. She had closely cropped hair and an enigmatic smile. Gin thought she looked far too cool and radical to be a friend of her dumb-fuck mother’s.

Gin typed … “I like your picture. Got any tattoos?”

“Yes, but they’re in intimate places. You want to see them?”

The phone rang with a FaceTime. Shit! Gin thought. She panicked.


Gin couldn’t help herself. Though she did not answer the FaceTime call, she was still very curious — maybe just a little interested. She studied the photo of Kris and she read back the messages they had exchanged. Yes, she thought, she did like to badly. She did want to play. And she did wonder what strange tattoos that Kris had.

Gin had locked herself in her bedroom as she did sometimes when she just wanted to be alone. She’s showered in her en suite bathroom. The water had been so refreshing, and now she stood naked beneath her nightgown.

The phone pinned.

It was a message from Kris … “Did I spook you?”

Gin sat down on the bed and typed … “Yer. Sorry. I was just a little nervous.”

“Don’t be. We’re very much alike. You and me. I hate God and his fucked up church. Hail Lilith.”

Gin typed back … “Hail Lilith.”

It actually felt good to type those strange archaic words.

“Fuck yer. I love pussy.”

Gin was a little shocked. How did she know that she had bisexual feelings? Was this part of being a witch? Gin typed … “So do I.”

“Want to play?”

The phone pinged and a photo appeared of Kris, but this time she was naked from the waist up. The petite woman had small breasts (almost flat) — more like little bumps. She had smooth skin and a delicate look about her.

More teen than Gin has expected …. “Do you like my tiny tits?”

Gin was physically shaking. Her pussy felt warm. There was more than just a little tingling down between her naked thighs. She was definitely getting turned on by this short exchange … “Yes — you are very pretty.” Gin typed.

“Thank you. Your mom showed me a picture of you in your new school uniform — but I would love to see what you look like without anything on.”

Gin’s fingers couldn’t move. She had never met another lesbian before — let alone a lesbian witch. She had wondered what it would be like to kiss a girl. She had fantasized about a couple of her friends. She’d even been a bit flirty with one girl — but nothing happened.

The warm feeling between her thighs had become something else — almost a series of fast spasms. Of course, she’d touched herself. The guilt had been such a big thing. And her church upbringing had always taught her that masturbation was a terrible moral sin … “For the mind that is set on the flesh is hostile to God, for it does not submit to God’s law; indeed, it cannot” … This had been reinforced at her conservative school, especially in “religious studies’ and more so by their pastor at Church of the Saints — “Now the works of the flesh are evident: sexual immorality, impurity, sensuality, idolatry, sorcery, orgies, and things like these. I warn you, as I warned you before, that those who do such things will not inherit the kingdom of God.”

As these thoughts formed, another message appeared … “Are you touching yourself?”

Gin typed … “No.”

“Does God say it’s bad? I thought you liked being bad?” … Gin hesitated but was still enthralled by this confrontation … “I love to jill off — do you want to see?”

FaceTime rang again. Gin answered. The face on the phone camera matched the earlier photograph. The background was dark, but Gin could see Kris was naked from the portion of her body that was visible.

“You like me?” asked Kris (there was a tone of practiced “insecurity” in her voice).

“Yes, I think you’re very pretty. I love your short hair. I wish my mom would let me go crew cut — but she would go ballistic — and the school would send me home.”

“Fuck them! Just remember — do as thy want; for it is the way of Lilith; that you be your own god!” … “You look incredible Gin — just as you are. Why don’t you slip out of your nightgown — nobody will ever know — it’s just the two of us.”

Gin wanted to. She really did. But she still felt very self-conscious. Her cunt was very wet. Kris was definitely turning her own — more than she realized.

“Are you shy?” asked Kris.

“No!” replied the rebellious teen.

“I’m masturbating Gin — thinking about how beautiful you are. Does that freak you out?”

The camera angle changed and Gin could clearly see Kris’ slick vagina. It was clean-shaven and looked much like little Gin’s. She watched Kris’ slimy fingers circling her erect clit and then disappearing inside the furrow between her tiny labia.

“You like what you see?” asked Kris.

“You’re very sexy,” panted Gin as she also began to touch herself.

Her pussy was drenched and her slick fingers sank into her thirteen-year-old snatch, like a hot knife through butter. She bit her lip to stop herself from moaning.

“Show me what you’re doing Gin — don’t you like being bad with me?”

Gin nodded to the camera. She held the phone up and tilted the angle so that Kris would be able to see that her gown was open from the front. Her young budding breasts were swollen and rose-red. She let the phone camera travel lower so that her voyeur could see her masturbating herself.

“Oh … Oh … Gin, that is so beautiful,” groaned Kris, “You are so delicious. I wish I could suck your nipples and lick your pussy,”

Kris’ enthusiasm encouraged Gin’s exhibitionism as she propped the photo up against the pillow, so that both of her hands were now free to touch herself. She was completely obsessed with their bizarre exchange. Never had she contemplated sex with an older woman. Never had she considered dabbling in phone sex. But here she was, sharing the most intimate of experiences with this stranger. And she was totally into it.

“Do you want to suck my cunt?” asked Kris as she turned up the heat.

“Yes — I’d love to go down on you Kris,” replied Gin, shocked at her own forwardness.

“Mmmm — I love it when you use my name. Hail Lilith. The Goddess of Hell!”

Gin was frigging herself faster and faster. She felt something was about to explode inside of herself. She’d never experienced an orgasm before. She’d heard a couple of the girls in school talk about it — but never had she expected it to happen this way.

“Fuck Christ!” Gin groaned.

She turned and looked at the door. She hoped that her parents or her step-grandmother didn’t hear her blaspheme.

“Hail Satan. Hail Lilith.” cried Kris in the throws of her own orgasm.

Gin began to orgasm. She fell on the bed and quivered all over. It was remarkable. What a complete rush. Fuck, she thought, why haven’t I done this before.

“Oh Gin, you made me cum so hard darling,” Kris sighed in delight as she came down from her high.

Gin smiled stupidly at the image of the naked woman on the other end of the call. Her own delirium made the other woman look like a dark angel before her.

“You know, it’s even better when I use my mouth,” Kris leered seductively in promise.




Maggie simmered. She felt like one of those guinea pigs in a cage with only a wheel to run around in. Alfred, her husband, was home because of the global pandemic. Any form of travel was off the cards. So he did all his business from home. He’d made an office in the dining room and brought in printer files and other work paraphernalia. It made Maggie feel more and more trapped.

When Alfred wasn’t being annoying with his work, he made it very clear to Maggie that she was second-rate — that his precious time must be devoted to his elderly stepmother. Church was now a special occasion for him to share with her. Maggie hated the bitch. Fucking Deborah — so fucking prim and proper. She hated her husband too. She tried to figure out ways to meet up with her neighbors, George, Ben, and Betty For sex, but she couldn’t leave the house without explaining herself — it was torturous, to say the least.

She hated how her mommy-boy husband doted over their thirteen-year-old daughter, Gin, and then ignored her most of the time. if not, all of the time. Gin was another source of irritation — she was so goth these days. Introverted and prone to throwing tantrums. Gin had told her mother that she wanted to cut her hair short — like a crew cut — no fucking way! The school would not approve it.

Maggie got Alfred involved and to put an end to that — which he reluctantly did — he was such a coward. Gin never ate with her family anymore — she was always disappearing into her own bedroom. She would lock the door and not come out at all. It annoyed Maggie as well as made her feel that she was losing control of her daughter. She wondered if Kris had anything to do with it. But she remembered her promise to Kris. She hoped that things would improve, but they never did.

Nothing happened in their marital bedroom. His limp cock was never hard enough for long — and every time she initiated sex (be it the only way he would do it with her in missionary position with the lights out), it was always a letdown. He would however buy her expensive gifts to shut her up — she honestly felt objectified — as if she was just a trophy wife to sit with in the pews of the church. He was intolerable.


Maggie thought about Kris. The sex was so fucking hot. She had offered her a way out. Kris had told her that the poison would kill him (but it had to be used soon — as its effects would weaken over time). The poison had been created in such a way that it would appear as if Alfred had had a heart attack. But the plan still had so many holes.

She had thought about precious little else since she had told Kris about her desire to be free. She was supposed to administer the creamy substance inside her vagina and then make love to him. He had failed to remain hard for anything more than five minutes — she wondered if Kris was right and the Black Magick would make their love-making long enough for him to be poisoned by the evil vermin.

She looked at the substance which was contained in a small brown-glass vial. It looked so benign. Would it work? Could it work?


Gin waited in her en suite for her “Dark Angel” to call. Though she’d locked her bedroom door, she knew that her voice would not carry if she talked in the bathroom with the door closed. She messaged Kris. They had been constantly in contact. Night and day. They talked about all kinds of nasty things. They masturbated together, over the phone, every night — sometimes three or four times a night. Kris was always horny and so was she.

She was no longer shy to show Kris what she was up to. Kris sent her lots of pornography and guided her to look at filthy websites with images of young girls (her age) fucking dogs, pissing on each other and even playing with their poop. She loved it all. However, what got her off the most was when they role-played lesbian witches torturing young human sacrifices — offering them to the devil. These fantasies just got wilder and wilder — Kris always seemed to up the ante.

She promised to meet Kris soon, but it was just difficult with her pathetic father around all the time. He didn’t travel away for work anymore — instead, he hung around the house. She could feel the tension between her mother and father. It was so uncool. Things were difficult and Kris knew that she had not made it any better — as she was sometimes prone to throwing a tantrum now and then. She’d even told her mother to “Fuck off!” … Ever since then, her father watched her like a hawk. Gin had told Kris about it. She said that maybe one day soon he would have a heart attack and die soon — and then they could be together. But Gin doubted that — he’d been a fuck fuck for years and nothing had happened.

At least her bedroom was her sanctuary — but then again, she couldn’t say for certain, but there were times when she wasn’t around, she was sure that her mother had been in her room. Maybe she had been tidying up? But Gin doubted that — her mother had changed. It was the small things that Gin noticed. Often she found her underwear would go missing. This wasn’t her clean underwear — but her soiled panties.

Ever since she’d started having this thing — whatever you call it — with her Dark Angel, she’d started a diary (it actually had been a gift from her mother) — but Gin had made it into a masturbation diary. It had been Kris’ idea — to write down all her most perverted fantasies, so that they could talk about them whenever they were on the phone. Gin had done some drawings as well. They depicted pornographic scenes of her demon worship. Of Lilith having sex with young ones. Of rituals involving animal sex, wet sex, and blood play — she’d even smeared her sexual juices and menstrual blood across the pages devoted to her Dark Angel (Kris).


Maggie had bought a new negligee. It was made of the finest black silk and it hugged her beautifully shaped body perfectly. She had been pampering herself in readiness for this day – hairdressing, manicure and pedicure, facial and deep tissue massage. She positively glowed with excitement. Alfred, of course, had no idea of her morbid plan — only that the credit card had been used for what he considered unnecessary expenses.

The moon was full.

Maggie had felt nervous. She was like a carrion bird — unable to settle as she circled her prey. Her stomach was in knots with a bizarre anticipation about her secretive plan. She’d really begun to get off on the whole idea of fucking her husband to death. Yes, she thought, the fucker must die and at the right moment, know it was her doing. She saw herself as an evil demon. A murderous succubus. She was the daughter of Lilith. Her cunt was her murder weapon and it eagerly purred at these wayward thoughts as she masturbated as over and over thinking about what was about to transpire.

Alfred was his usual irritable self. More so than usual. He was bemoaning Maggie’s lack of homemaking skills. He was always comparing this and that. Why can’t you be more like your mother-in-law — that really pissed her off.

Maggie felt more and more vindicated — he deserved to die. And die soon.

It was a double act. Deborah was also complaining incessantly. Her dogged mother-in-law seemed to be at her unreasonable best. Maggie wished she would die too — but just the thought of throwing her out on her ass after Alfred’s death gave Maggie the sadist thrill she needed.

She had dropped a few hints to Alfred and it seemed, despite being a miserable son-of-a-bitch, he seemed to be amorous towards her. She bated the trap and now waited for it to be sprung. She wasn’t sure what it was but as Alfred got her alone in the bedroom, he was all over her. Was it the new negligee or some side effect of the verminous cream or was it Kris’ Black Magick? She actually didn’t care — as long as it worked long enough for him to fuck her good and hard — and in return, get the deadly poison into his system.

Maggie made an excuse and quickly disappeared into their private en suite and took the last step to carefully coat the inside of her vagina with the slimy poisonous cream and she felt her libido become overcharged.

Maggie returned to the bedroom to find Alfred was already naked and between the fresh bed sheets. Eager for sex like a sixteen-year-old schoolboy. Maggie couldn’t remember the last time he looked at her with such impassioned lust and his cock looked firmer and harder than it had been for several years. Yes, she thought to herself — despite all her misgivings, maybe this wicked plan will work.

“You look so sexy,” said Alfred.

Alfred wasn’t known for his bedroom talk.

”Thank you. You look so handsome,” she lied.

Maggie slipped between their silky sheets next to him and they embraced and kissed for the first time in a long time. Maggie closed her eyes and imagined it was Kris’ mouth. Her tongue slipped into his open mouth as they gyrated and rubbed against each other.

“I need you inside me. Now …” groaned Maggie.

She wasn’t faking it either. She did want him inside her — she was very horny and needed desperately to cum. After all, he was just a human dildo, as she had no love for him. No emotion. No connection. He could never understand her new twisted and perverted desires. Her pedophilic fantasies of abuse, corruption, and devil worship. If he knew what she was really like — he would be appalled by her perversity.

Maggie lay on her back and drew him between her open legs. She knew Alfred would only fuck her that way. Good old missionary. She’d lowered the lights and had lit a few candles to help set the mood. It all seemed too good to be true. His modest cock was still rampant as his overweight body attempted to get on TOP of her and penetrate her slimy vagina.

That’s it — you fucker, she thought — get your useless cock inside so I can kill you, and then I can fuck little children in our marital bed!

Finally, he thrust his cock inside her. Maggie moaned in genuine pleasure — Yes. Hail Satan, she thought. Fuck me harder. Maggie wrapped her slender shapely legs around him, as he labored to thrust his pelvis back and forth.

“You feel so big.” she lied again.

“Mmmmmm …” he moaned as Maggie skillfully used the muscles In her pelvic floor to milk his balls, “Mmmmmmmm … “ he groaned over and over.

The fingers of her left hand meshed with the hair on the back of his neck — pulling him closer as she kissed his mouth hungrily. The fingers of her right hand slid between their sweating bodies so that she could put pressure on her erect clitoris. Yes! Yes! She was cumming.

“Don’t stop! Don’t stop! Aaaaarrrghhhhhhh …”

The orgasm rocked through her as Alfred grunted and fucked her as hard as he could.

”Cum inside me. I want your cum!” Maggie moaned into his ear as she ground and twisted her hips against him as another orgasm began to build. Yes! Yes! Fuck, she came again and again.

“More! Harder! Harder! Aaarghhhhhhhh …”

In the throws of her second, or third (she’d lost count) — It must be close, she thought … was the poison working. Of Lilith! Hail Lilith!

“I’m … I’m going to cum …” groaned her inept lover.

His body stiffened suddenly. His cock quivered. Maggie felt the wetness of his ejaculate inside of her. Hot. His cock was still very hard — thick and full of blood, but looked at his contorted face, even in the candlelight, Alfred didn’t appear to be enjoying their sex. Quite the opposite. Maggie felt his bulk on top of her as if he could no longer support himself as he quivered unnaturally.

”Aaarghhhhhhh …”

This was not the groan of ecstasy. No — Alfred seemed to be in abject agony.

It’s happening, she thought with sinister glee. Hail Satan. Take the fucker to hell. Of course, she pretended not to realize his painful predicament — as if she thought he was still enjoying their sex instead of being in complete torturous agony.

She wanted to tell him as he slumped over her gasping for his last breath — she wanted to say — Yes! Yes! I did this to you — you fucker! But something told her not to expose herself too soon. He somehow managed to roll off of her and was now lying on his back. He couldn’t talk. He could only make guttural sounds. His left hand clutched his chest tightly and he looked at her in breathless terror … his eyes were rolling back and his tongue lolled.

Maggie stood up over him and looked down as she masturbated herself furious – this was the moment she’d been waiting for. The moment he would know. She couldn’t believe that it was actually happening.

Alfred was now in death’s hands. He was too weak to move and with every moment, she could see his awareness was slipping from his face. Look at me, she thought but didn’t say a word. Instead, she lowered her overheated cunt across his face. Her juices followed like never before — another orgasm swept through her.

“Oh, fuck yerrrrrrr …” Maggie groaned as her fingers gripped her sensitized nipples and pressed hard against her clit.

In life, he’d never gone down on her. Alfred had said it was unnatural and dirty. In death, she’d ride his face and cum over and over. Fuck, she felt so incredibly high. This was such a thrill. It was better than she imagined it to be. She felt powerful. A demon. A sexual demon. Killing her own husband. Fuck yer.

His limp body lay there across their marital bed. His face was covered in her sexual juices. There was no turning back. There would be no U-turn available. Alfred was dead. She checked his pulse. Nothing. She slapped his face hard. Nothing. She kicked him. Nothing. Maggie stepped away and straightened herself up. Her cunt was still on fire. She was still masturbating herself furiously. Still horny.

She wiped his face carefully — make sure none of her poison was left behind (she flushed the evidence down the toilet). Who would suspect foul play? Nobody. Just another fat-fuck dies of a heart attack, trying to please his insanely beautiful and intellectually superior (and much younger) wife.

Maggie grabbed the burner phone from her bag and took some pictures. More pictures. Many pictures. She stood over him with her foot on his flabby chest — and took more pictures — like she was the hunter and he was the game. Finally, she messaged Kris that the deed was done and shared the images of Albert’s lifeless body with her. She felt exhilarated. It was almost a shame she could only kill him once. What a mind-bender, she thought.

Now it was time for her Grammy Award-winning performance (of the shocked and horrified wife) to begin.


To be continued …


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