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, Sapphic, Transformation, Shemale, Androgyny, Satanic, Abuse, Corruption, Evil, Devil Worship, NC, WS, Sexual Sin, Sex Demons, Orgy, BDSM, Young, Incest, Snuff.

CREATED: 28.09.2021 MAGGIE, KRIS & GINNY / REVISITED: 08.09.2023


Pleasure Has No Boundaries 9


Maggie has murdered her husband. It changes everything. She has a new sense of euphoria. Freedom. With the help of her lover, Kris, she used black magic to poison him through sexual intercourse. It all appeared natural. Alfred’s face was a grimace of pain when he died. And as the coroner pronounced his death as a heart attack, there would be no further police inquiries, no autopsy, and no delays in Maggie receiving her enormous insurance settlement. The apartment was hers. She would tell her noisy mother-in-law to live somewhere else — and finally, she would be free to do whatever, whenever, and with whoever she wanted.

Alfred’s death seemed to also bring Kris and Maggie closer together again. Their differences were somewhat settled and the pause in their sexual relationship was now a thing of the past. But Kris was always up to something. The evil witch was always scheming and plotting — and her latest endeavor had something to do with Maggie’s young daughter, Ginny, and a group of fanatics, that she calls her creatures.

Meanwhile, Maggie finds a kindred spirit in the sadistic nun, Sister Louise. Their strained relationship is brought back to life after Alfred’s funeral — something to do with an orphanage that the wicked Sister has a hand in. Will Maggie’s curiosity get the better of her and will she find out what the true sordid nature of the secretive orphanage is? What has Kris in mind for young Ginny? Is it something that will divide her and Maggie again or bring them crashing back together?


  • 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
  • Ginny (13) – Maggie’s daughter, a quiet and brooding, dancer, A-cup
  • Alfred (55) – Husband of Maggie, Regional CFO of MNC
  • Deborah (70) – Maggie’s stepmother-in-law, very young-looking
  • Friar Mario (60) – parish priest at Maggie’s church
  • Sister Louise (32) – sadist, attractive nun, pedophile
  • Sister Lee Chin (18) – young novitiate nun from the Safe Haven Orphanage
  • Hannah (23) – Maggie’s younger sister, highly religious, adapt student, cute like a china-doll, used to love Korean dramas and the violin
  • Denise, Jo, and Heidi (9) – Orphans at the Safe Haven Orphanage
  • The Cat, The Snake, The Goat – androgynous witches (shebois)
  • The Dog, The Pig, The Bat – androgynous witches (female)



Maggie looked out from under the brim of the wide umbrella as the rain fell.

Maggie’s young thirteen-year-old daughter, Ginny, stood together with her paternal grandmother, Deborah. Ginny had been in a state of shock ever since her father’s fatal “heart attack”. The police and the coroner had spared her the details and she had not personally witnessed her father’s body as it lay naked across their marital bed (his cock still strangely rampant even after death).

It was truly a miserable day for a funeral. But the poor weather guaranteed a shorter burial. During the earlier church service, Maggie had done her utmost to look sad and upset. It had been a stellar performance. She had even cried during the prayers as she held her sexy young daughter close to her side.

She avoided eye contact with anyone — especially Deborah — Alfred’s mother, who was not happy about having to leave the comfort of their luxury-style apartment. Maggie had said that she needed time alone with her daughter. What she didn’t say, was that she needed time alone to worship Satan and instigate an incestuous sexual relationship with her own kin. Maggie secretly longed to be mean to Deborah about it, but instead, she did it in a way that wouldn’t raise any suspicions.

Maggie had dressed in a long black Balmain wool and cashmere-blend overcoat. Her black hair was swept back in a bun with only a slight application of waterproof eye shadow and mascara. She stood tall in her Prada black patent leather pumps with three-inch heels. Beneath her overcoat, Maggie had specially bought a brand new Valentino short-wrap dress. It was an extremely expensive ensemble that would certainly make Alfred turn in his grave. She had deliberately dressed for the occasion without underwear. She’d been close to orgasm spending over seven thousand dollars on a single outfit, charging it to Alfred’s credit card.

Maggie’s cunt tingled with the wickedness of her thoughts. She was still in a state of disbelief. As if it had all been a fantasy that Kris and she had cooked up during mutual masturbation — but now, the sight of her husband’s coffin about to be lowered into the cold ground and his burial ritual in progress, made it all so real. Yes. The stupid fucker was really gone. Hail Satan, she prayed to herself.

The hole in her right-hand pocket gave her complete access to her hot slimy cunt that she discretely massaged as others around her looked forlorn and cheerless. She smothered a desire to grin at it all. Her morbid plan was drawing to a conclusion.

Alfred’s gloomy family gathered around the dull black coffin, as Friar Mario, their family priest, from “Church of the Saints”, delivered his solemn sermon. Across the coffin, Maggie noticed Sister Louise standing next to Friar Mario, holding an umbrella over the both of them, whilst the priest performed his heavy-hearted duties.

“Alfred was a loving husband,” said Friar Mario, “He was generous with his affection. He took care of his elderly mother and was always devoted to his duties in the church. Alfred is survived by his wife, Maggie, and his thirteen-year-old daughter, Ginny. He will be greatly missed by his friends, colleagues, and family.”

Maggie had hated him when he was alive. And hearing his eulogy, she hated him even more. Fat, useless fuck! He had never been loving to her, never generous or affectionate. He was a fucking-loser-mommy’s-boy with limp dick — ironic, she thought, that she killed him using sex.

She covertly held her ring finger and forefinger on either side of her oily labia, while her middle finger pressed secretly against her sensitive clitoris. It felt so nasty to be masturbating herself at her own husband’s funeral. Fuck the Holy Spirit, she thought. But that was the whole point. She recalled how eager Alfred had been to mount her. How Kris’ black magic had brought him to a steamy state of sexual excitement that nothing would have stopped him from sticking his pathetic dick inside her evil poisonous cunt.

”Cum inside me. I want your cum!” she could hear her words echo, “More! Harder! Harder! Aaarghhhhhhhh …”

A spasm passed through her at the image of rubbing her slimy vagina over his face in his dying moments — as he gasped his last breath — she had smothered him with her overheated cunt-hole. Fuck, she remember exactly how she had felt. So incredibly high; such a thrill; better than she imagined it to be. She had felt so powerful. Like a demon. A sexual demon. Killing her own husband for her freedom and financial gain.

“In sure and certain hope of the resurrection to eternal life,” the boring priest droned, “Through Our Lord Jesus Christ; we commend to Almighty God, Alfred Lau, and we commit his body to the ground: earth to earth; ashes to ashes; dust to dust.”

The rain had got even heavier and the sky was almost black as night. But at least the depressing ritual was almost over. Sister Louise’s eyes locked with Maggie’s — it was as if she could see right through the heavy folds of her overcoat and watch Maggie’s busy fingers rubbing her engorged clitoris as hard as she could.

There was a glint in her eye and the most subtle of smiles. Maggie pretended not to notice. But she felt something between them — something akin to the vileness of her co-conspirator, Kris. Lighting lit up the sky, followed by a loud clap of thunder, a few seconds later. Friar Mario closed his heavy Bible as he concluded his well-worn sermon that had been fully committed to his memory.

”The Lord bless him and keep him; the Lord make His Face to shine upon him; and be gracious to him; the Lord lift up His countenance upon him; and give him peace … Amen.”

“Amen,” replied a few of the parishioners as the coffin slowly descended into the cold dark earth.

The crowd started to move back towards the safety of the church refectory, where it was warm and dry.

“Sorry for your loss,” said Friar Mario as he held Maggie’s arm, “He was a good man — Alfred will be missed in our congregation. If there is anything you need? Anything, you contact me okay?”

He was sincere.

“Thank you Father for a lovely service,” she lied.

Friar Mario turned and left quietly to console the rest of the Lau family as they made their way back to the refectory. Maggie looked past his retreating back at Sister Louise, who had stayed behind.

“Thank you for coming, Sister Louise,” greeted Maggie.

Sister Louise took hold of Maggie’s hand in hers, cradling her hand affectionately — the same hand that she had been only just minutes before, secretly masturbating herself.

“If you need any sisterly assistance?” Asked Sister Louise.

Her fingers danced delicately against Maggie’s, stroking the underside of Maggie’s oily palm. Sister Louise looked around briefly (making sure that they were not being observed).

Then she added, “I am there for you my dear. If you feel the need for some comfort … or relief …”

She lifted Maggie’s fingers to her lips and licked Maggie’s middle finger. Maggie froze — as she watched Sister Louise tasting her sexual ministrations.

“Hail Satan,” she whispered in Maggie’s ear.


Ginny was intrigued, to say the least.

Her recent discovery of blasphemy and the whole satanic sex thing really excited her. Like a dark light shining in on her dull and monotonous existence. Why did she get off on it so much? Was it because it felt so much in opposition to everything she had been spoon-fed and taught in her past thirteen years? Was it that she felt finally that she had found something, so profoundly taboo, that she could not resist it? Was this woman, Kris, really everything that she professed to be? A dark angel? A Sapphic witch?

She could not deny her attraction to this older woman.

The pleasure they had shared; online, over the phone; and in FaceTime; all led to the most obvious next step — to meet face-to-face. Kris had promised pleasure beyond anything that Ginny had ever experienced through masturbation.

Ginny pondered Kris’ invitation — “You know, it’s even better when I use my mouth!”

How could she not accept? Maybe it was all happening too fast? Maybe she should not get ahead of herself.

Rereading the text that invited her to a party in MongKok (Kowloon). It was supposed to be a Halloween-themed night. Kris had mentioned that she’d get the chance to meet some “real” witches — that she called affectionately “her creatures”… Kris hadn’t said too much, other than she’d get to meet … The Cat, The Bat, The Goat, The Snake, The Dog and The Pig. They can read minds, she said. It all sounded rather secretive and clandestine — but it made Ginny tingle with unexpected excitement.

Ginny wondered what her prudish mother would think. What was she thinking — her mother would totally freak out and that’s exactly why Ginny felt she would dare to go. She made a plan to tell her mother that she was going for a sleepover with a friend. It was on a Friday night, so she knew that her mother would have to say yes. She would even make a call, that evening, maybe about nine or ten in the evening to say “Goodnight, Mommy,” like a good little girl (well before midnight, when the party was supposed to get underway).


Friday night came around fast.

Kris had texted her the address of the party and Ginny had confirmed her attendance. They had arranged to meet up about seven-thirty in the evening so that they could have some light supper together and enough time to enjoy each other’s company … Some girl time … Kris said that she would help Ginny with her party make-up and outfit … it all sounds perfect. Of course, Ginny wondered about sex. She was very nervous and apprehensive. Ginny had changed outfits about a dozen times trying to figure out what to wear — what would look horny, but not desperate. She’d settled on a short red dress, with a halter neck sleeveless top that ended mid-thigh with heel black patent leather boots.

Kris had said that at the party there would be some younger girls like for her to meet and of course, Kris impressed upon her that they would have a fun time together — her Dark Angel promised that she’d take special care of her and that she hoped their evening (and night) together would be the first of many.

Despite all of Kris’ reassurances, Ginny still got the jitters. She was totally out of her comfort zone … but there was an expectation on both sides. Would she dare to go through with it? She now stood outside the address that Kris had mentioned. If there was a time to change her mind — it would have been now — then she saw Kris smiling at her. The street was busy with people, but Ginny immediately recognized the petite woman who stood only an inch or so above her height. Kris was dressed in a black tank top that showed her belly-button piercing, covered with a slightly oversized brown leather jacket, black jeans, and white plimsolls. Her short-cropped hair and big hoop earrings looked so cool and fashionable — like a tiny cute tomboy.

“You look … so beautiful,” opened Kris as they hugged for the first time, “You, you … smell delicious too!”

Ginny didn’t say anything immediately, she simply enjoyed the sensation of being close to Kris — feeling Kris’ long-black-nailed fingers against her bare arms, holding the young girl tightly as they stood together in the crowded throng. Ginny could smell Kris’ slightly acrid body odor — it was not offensive — quite the opposite, unwashed and horny. Kris kissed her left cheek gently, stoking the back of Ginny’s long black hair. As Kris kissed the right cheek, Ginny turned her face, so that their lips deliberately met each other.

The older woman immediately responded and kissed her passionately and as they pressed urgently against each other, Kris’ tongue slipped into Ginny’s eager mouth. Her pussy was on fire, her young succulent juices immediately began to flow. They kissed long and deep, and though Ginny thought they could be making a spectacle of themselves on the busy street — nobody took the slightest bit of notice.

“I want to fuck you, Kris,” cooed young Ginny.

“I know,” replied the confident woman.

They linked arms and walked towards the entrance to Kris’ walk-up flat.


Inside Kris’ apartment, Ginny was welcomed by the pungent smell of incense. It was still early. Kris had said that the other ‘guests’ would arrive just before midnight — it was to be a special celebration in honor of their Goddess. Ginny looked upon the dark altar that was covered in mystical offerings. Black and red candles of various lengths burnt between real human skulls; several long thigh bones that had been carved into dildos; there were goblets and several chalices; inverted crucifixes, beads, the skull and antlers of a beast, a baphometic medallion, an aspersory, and thurible. There were other strange and grotesque-looking statuettes that were stained blackish from substances that had been smeared over them.

“Are you afraid Ginny?” asked Kris, standing behind Ginny as the young girl’s eyes scanned across the dark demoniac altar.

“Not at all. I think it’s … beautiful,” answered Ginny with a cheeky grin, “… I wish I could have an altar like this in my room.”

“Maybe we can make that happen,” said Kris.

Kris laughed out loud. The feeling of déjà vu … It wasn’t that long ago, it seemed, that Maggie’s younger sister, Hannah, had asked Kris exactly the same thing.




She said that her grief was so much. She just needed to be alone for a while.

Maggie added that she probably would not be attending regular services (as she had done since first arriving in Hong Kong from Singapore — the church reminded her of her late husband and the memories were just too overwhelming at the moment.

Friar Mario was sad to hear that she felt that way. He said that the church doors would always be open to her, whenever she was ready. She acted thankful and failed to mention that she was now free to truly worship Satan, as she had always wanted to, and would only be back to get access to and molest the young children in her Sunday school class when it suited her.

She was about to leave the church when Sister Louise approached her. Maggie had been thinking about their strange encounter at the grave site of her dead husband and how the Sister had made her dark allegiance very obvious.

“I heard that you will be suspending your Sunday school duties, Maggie. It is a shame. You have a way with them. And of course, you know that I know about you … we are aligned in our common interest,” she said in covert whispers, “It’s all about the balance of good and evil … and how miscreants must not go unpunished … it is how we can serve our Lord … I know of a place where we would both can be useful … “

She placed a folded note into Maggie’s hand, “Now, I must get back to the refectory, as we have another funeral later today — the Devil is always busy my dear!”

Maggie watched the sadistic nun leave. She opened the scrap of a handwritten note.

The message read, “Safe Haven Orphanage in Guangming New District. Sunday next week. At 6.00 pm.”

This wasn’t a convenient place. It was located in a very remote part of the Shenzhen Province near the borders of Baoan District and Dongguan.

Maggie thought about the import of her words … “About the balance of good and evil” … “How miscreants must not go unpunished” … and how … “The Devil is always busy” …

There was something about this situation that cried out to be explored.


Maggie had second thoughts about Sister Louis’ bizarre behavior and about visiting the remote orphanage. Now her time was her own. There was nobody checking on her. Nobody asked about her whereabouts, And inquired about what she was up to … why would she want to get involved with anything to do with the church and their interests in an orphanage? But then again, Sister Louise had been known for her sadistic traits at the parish and had caused a stir on more than one occasion … maybe at the orphanage, she’d found her aggressive outlet — was it truly to honor her Lord, or was there some other agenda involved? What Lord did the Sister truly pray to and serve?

Maggie’s curiosity had got the better of her and at 6.00 pm sharp, she arrived at the large wooden doors to the Safe Haven Orphanage. Dark and decrepit. Unfit for young children. Fallen into disrepair. The place smelt old and musky. These were the first thoughts that entered Maggie’s mind.

Upon arrival, she was met by a young novitiate nun, called Sister Lee Chin. Sister Lee wore a dull grey habit and wimple with a simple wooden cross around her neck and a rosary around her waist. The young sister appeared very submissive. Maggie liked that. She eyed the nun’s pretty little feet that were clearly visible in her delicate sandals. She looked young. Very young and petite. Maggie wondered what the young nun would look like beneath her drab clothing.

“Miss Maggie, please follow me,” said Sister Lee Chin as she indicated that Maggie should come inside the orphanage, “Sister Louise has asked you to please change into this clothing — so that you will pass as one of our own.”

Sister Lee passed Maggie a dull grey habit and wimple, much like her own.

“You can change in here,” the nun pointed towards a small bathroom, “But only wear the habit and sandals. Sister Louise gave specific instructions,” she insisted.

”Certainly,” answered Maggie.

Maggie tried to ignore the overwhelming smell of mildew. This was a disgusting place. But, in the privacy of the small bathroom, Maggie stripped naked and donned the rough fabric habit. She’d seen the nuns wear similar outfits frequently at her church and she intuitively knew how to put on the wimple. A thin rosary around the waist and a wooden crucifix around her neck completed her disguise. Maggie emerged as just another sister of the cloth.

The young nun smiled.

“I am to call you Sister Maggie,” she said and took Maggie’s own clothing (placing them into a small cloth bag and stowing them in a nearby cabinet.)

Now dressed appropriately they both walked single file in silence as the young novitiate led her through the echoing old hallways. The orphanage was obviously very old and tired. Everywhere Maggie looked, there were the signs of neglect and decrepitude. Maggie asked Sister Lee about it and she confirmed that it was, in fact, a converted eighteenth-century nunnery.

“Sister Louise is expecting you,” she added with a sense of urgency — obviously not wanting to hold up the progress that they had made.

“I never knew this place existed,” said Maggie, almost talking to herself.

“This is a place filled with unwanted things, Sister Maggie. Unwanted responsibilities. Unwanted problems. Unwanted children. We, the cloistered nuns, do our best here to take care of the needs of these poor children and are grateful for any assistance,” replied the young novitiate.

So they think I am here to help? She liked the idea of being near all these hot sexy children with little or no supervision. Delightful. The opportunities were mind-boggling. Maggie pushed these wicked thoughts out of her head. She didn’t want to build up the expectation … this could be all a big waste of time … but the thought of spanking some naked eight-year-old girl did get her juices flowing.

The young novitiate brought Maggie to a locked door with the description on it — Disciplinary Room. Sister Lee knocked respectfully on the heavy door and waited. The sun was about to set and the orphanage lights flickered here and there — hardly enough to illuminate the old, musky place. She hadn’t stood outside the door long before a small window (more like a slot) opened and the austere eyes of Sister Louise became visible.

Deadbolts were drawn back and the door opened.

“Sister Maggie,” said Sister Louise, “I am glad you arrived safe and sound.”

“Yes, Sister Louise,” replied Maggie maintaining the illusion of her dedication to the cloth, “Sister Lee has been most helpful.”

”And so she should,” said Sister Louise, “Now come inside both of you. We have much to take care of.”

Maggie and Sister Lee stepped inside and Sister Louise secured the door behind them.

“Keep your eye down caste,” said Sister Louise, in a demeaning tone to the young girls, all under the age of ten years, that stood in a line.

The three young children were dressed in simple surplices that were tied at their shoulders with the sides open, but tied at the waist. They looked undernourished. Thin to the point that their arms and leg bones were very visible. Their hair was scruffy and unkempt. There was evidence of some bruising and they all looked frightened. Two of the girls were quietly sobbing.

Maggie’s cunt was wet and open just thinking about all the possibilities here. Her attention had been on the girls, but as she looked around, she got a sense of what could be in store for them in the Disciplinary Room.

The room was illuminated by bare light bulbs that made the room look overly bright and glaring. There was a large wooden closet, a desk and some chairs, several padded prayer tables, and a coat stand — other than that, the windowless room was barren of decoration — with the exception of a huge wooden crucifix hanging on the wall.

“Sister Maggie,” said Sister Louise — initiating their game, “… is here to help me and Sister Lee deal with you three sinful miscreants!”

Sister Louise opened the doors of the large wooden closet. Inside hung an assortment of things that one may associate with corporal punishment; but looking closer, one became aware that they were mostly sexual in nature. There were canes, whips, and paddles of various sizes, hanging on the inside of the double doors; but there were also ugly black dildos, thick butt plugs, enema bags, and long strings of anal beads. There were other pieces of equipment, like spreaders, hand-cuffs, ball gags, and a wide assortment of strap-ons for every occasion; be it oral or vaginal insertions — as well as others with straps to secure them around the thighs.

Maggie looked at Sister Louise, they both grinned at each other like Cheshire Cats. Yes, they understood each other categorically.

“Sister Maggie,” said Sister Louise, “This is Heidi, Denise, and Jo.”

The three young girls looked terrified.

”Look at me when I speak to you!” scolded Sister Louise, “As I was saying, Sister Maggie — they have all been brought to the punishment room for their petty delinquencies. Petty, but unforgivable. We must maintain strict discipline in the orphanage or else it will become complete anarchy. Don’t you agree?”

”Exactly, Sister Louise,” answered Maggie in a very determined tone, “We cannot tolerate even the smallest of petty delinquencies.”

“See how they dance on the spot?”

The three young girls seemed to move in a very agitated manner — unable to stand still properly. “I believe these young girls must be feeling somewhat uncomfortable, right now … as I made sure that each drank at least two liters of soda before their punishment. The effects of which must be quite painful about now.”

The girls were pressing their upper thighs together. They looked at each other as they suffered in silence.

“Yes, it must be very uncomfortable,” agreed Maggie.

Turning her attention back to the three miscreant girls.

Sister Louise added, “And don’t you dare spill a drop of urine … the punishment for wetting yourself will be far worse than for your petty delinquencies. Do you understand?”

The three girls all nodded but still looked desperate. Their little bladders stretched, bloated and bulging vulgarity in front of them.

“Which one of you will be first?” asked Sister Louise, “Which one of you will hold on the longest? Isn’t it interesting Sister Lee?”

The young novitiate nodded in response.


Removing her drab old habit and hanging on the coat stand, Sister Louise stood completely naked before everyone. She seemed shameless and uninhibited as Maggie’s eye cast over her skinny frame. She was almost completely flat-chested, but her nipples looked overly dark and large, protruding quite obscenely, almost phallic in appearance. Her public bones were especially prominent and there was a tattoo of a scorpion on her left hip. Now standing with her hands on her hips, her mask of decency was completely removed. Her facial expression looked manic and relentless in her pursuit of wickedness.

The novice nun undressed next but still appeared unsure of the whole “naked” punishment thing. A newcomer thought Maggie to herself. Beautiful, young, and exactly how Maggie had imagined her to be (beneath the drab clothing).

Maggie was also naked in a flash. Her body glistened with the erotic nature of the whole “dungeon of pedophilic torture” that presented itself, in the thin veneer of punishment for the three girl’s petty delinquencies. She could smell her own cunt — that was wet with perverted arousal as the tiny little girls danced about on the spot, desperate not to allow their overfilled bladders to give way and wet themselves. Their faces showed the pain they were in. It was delicious.

Sister Louise circled the girls, like a hungry predator, with a thin riding crop in one hand.

“Sister Maggie … aren’t they all such spoilt things … orphans at the Safe Haven Orphanage need to learn humility and how to behave in front of their superiors. Heidi, Denise, and Jo … look upon Sister Maggie. Look at the body of a true priestess. Yes. See her, not as a Cloistered Nun or Sister of the Cloth, but look upon her as a dark enchantress that will deliver you from the evils of temptation.”

The girls seemed too preoccupied with holding their painfully full bladders. It wouldn’t be long now before one or all would start to pee. Heidi was beginning to cry as the first dibble ran down the inside of her leg. She obviously had reached that point of no return. Her face showed her true agony. Her bladder was just too painful. She was about to lose control.

“May I suggest something, Sister Louise?” asked Maggie.




Kris held Ginny from behind. Her hands rested on the tiny girl’s hips. Such a pretty halter-neck dress and those bare arms. Kris couldn’t resist. She leaned forward and began to kiss Ginny’s elegant neck. It tasted salty and tangy. Such a delicious treat. So naive and trusting. Kris felt carnivorous. It made Kris so wet just thinking of all the evil and destructive things she could do to Maggie’s only little daughter. Neither of them, mother or daughter, had any idea of how far she and her cultish effeminate friends could go. Darkness welled up inside her. She felt drunk on it as it twisted her heart and mind to the extremes of her perverted spectrum.

Though she was small in stature … She knew many ways to subdue or overcome larger prey. Her eyes caught the glimmer of white bone on the altar in front of them. A phallus carved from the thigh bone of a small child, not much younger than Ginny. It felt like only yesterday that she had seduced her. Brought her to the flat. She had been the life of the “party” … every one of her creatures had taken turns in fucking her … in all her holes. They fucked her hard like a little rag doll — using her mouth as a toilet — sodomizing her without lubrication, while she screamed in acute pain. The video cameras all had been purring as the evil ritual orgy got progressively more and more perverse. Satan and Lilith, their unholy God and Goddess, had to be appeased. A blood sacrifice had to be made as Kris lost count of her mind-blowing orgasms.

At first, the young one had thought that all this dark goth stuff was cool, sexy, and fun. She had been so curious; taking in all the occult magick, satanic rites, and ancient demonology as just a kind of naughty game. For her, it had been like a Halloween party. They had all started out wearing masks and dark robes — that part was true — but then, Kris’ evil brethren began to reveal themselves; naked and horny, sweating with perverted excitement; eager to rape her and spray her with their sexual juices. Her witches … her beloved evil creatures of the night … Neither male nor female … but something else. The Cat. The Bat. The Snake. The Dog. The Pig. And the Goat.

The young girl had thought that she was some kind of rebel, standing up against everything that her pious rich family stood for — their religion; their status; and their obscene wealth. And so she had run away to be with her new lover … a much older, polyamorous, hyper-sexual lover … Kris.

At the appropriate time, it had been Kris that had donned the infamous “Death Dildo”, a serrated strap-on that her cult used to fuck their offering to Satan — the life of the party was about to be snuffed in a beautiful blood bath — for the sadistic and cannibalistic fetishes of Kris’ necrophilic cult. Her flesh was their flesh. Her soul was Satan’s.

Her parents had been on television. A large reward for the “safe return” of their beloved daughter had been offered. But alas, it was to be yet another unsolved crime in the cruel Asian city of Hong Kong. Life was cheap. Kris often thought about her victims, whenever she masturbated with their body parts — it was as if their very souls were trapped by her black magick — to be tormented for her sexual pleasure for eternity.


They all arrived at the stroke of midnight. The witches. The creatures.

The group of six “witches” said little. Dressed predictably in black goth-like robes; their faces obscured behind their freaky pantomime-like disguises. The Cat. The Snake. The Bat. The Dog, The Pig. The Goat. All so feminine. A menagerie of sinful little creatures.

Ginny wasn’t sure if it was just her imagination or her own intuition — but they seemed to communicate between themselves without words. Mind reading? It was obvious that Kris was in charge. She was their ring leader and they were her followers. Kris’ demure pets? Obsequious to her sexual desires. The freaky creatures all seemed to follow her lead. They all seemed to be waiting for something to happen, maybe? The background music was unlike any party that Ginny had been to … she could only describe it as creepy and eerie, but still, somewhat erotic … her body began to sway hypnotically to the strange pagan rift. A melody of demons … wooing her to perform before her audience of peculiar beasts.

“Dance little girl … dance for us …” spoke the enigmatic Cat.

The Cat spoke without words. Without any sound. The Bat blew a bloom of bluish smoke directly into Ginny’s face filling her with an odd dizziness. Not unpleasant. More hypnotic. For a moment it was all blurry. Their thoughts or was it their desires? … were as clear as the spoken word.

“Undress … undress yourself … let us see you,” said The Dog.

“Dance before us … yes … we want you to dance naked!” stated The Pig.

“Show us your childish body, take off your clothes,” begged The Goat.

Ginny felt giddy. Her head was spinning and her heart pounded in her ears. Yes. Yes. She would do as they asked. Her swaying movements became wild twirls and twists. Her hands reached up above her head. The Dog untied the top of her sleeveless halterneck dress, letting the front fall down around Ginny’s waist — exposing her childish nugget-sized breasts. Her nipples had hardened in sexual excitement as the creatures circled around her touching her. Her pussy was wet with itchy lust. The Cat and The Goat began to dance with her; then the others quickly joined in, as they too swirled and cavorted to the unholy rhythm.

Their hidden faces gave Ginny no clues, but their thoughts betrayed their wantonness … she kicked off her low-heeled boots … The Snake snared the hem of her red dress and it fell away … leaving her in just her little white panties that had turned almost sheer with Ginny’s sexual fluids.

”We can smell your arousal, my dear,” spoke The Bat.

“Yes, oh yes … that’s so beautiful … I cannot wait to taste you,” silently spoke The Cat.

“Take them off, so I may suck the wet crotch of your panties,” spoke The Bat,

”And dance … dance naked for us … show us how wet your cunt is,” spoke The Pig.

“Show us your ripe little cunt,” spoke The Goat.

“So divine … so pure and untouched … dance and finger yourself … oh, yes … finger-fuck yourself for us!” cried The Bat.

”Piss on your fingers … that’s it … wet yourself … ah… more, more, more,” cried the Snake as she knelt beneath Ginny’s groin, “Piss in my mouth … piss in my mouth!”

”Divine urine … give me some,” groaned The Bat as Ginny drained her little bladder over the creature’s masked face.

“My turn … leave me some,” bemoaned The Goat.

Their thoughts triggered Ginny’s actions. Like a puppet manipulated; as the witch-creatures pulled her delicate strings. But now she was not the only one that was naked. Kris joined the crush, gyrating her nakedness, her androgynous body glowed with sexual perspiration. The smell of urea was pungent. Her left hand clutched her flattish breast flesh, mauling her nipples; the fingers of her right-hand thrust in and out of her oily snatch.

“Oh, Satan! Oh, Lilith!” praised The Goat.

“Yes, we must please the father … the mother … a sacrifice?” asked The Bat.

The witch-creatures (still hidden behind their freaky masks) were all naked. Their movements were crude, thrusting, inelegant — like a throng of milky whiteness. All flat-chested. All thin and anorexic. Six scrawny, bony devils … Ageless. Young? Old? Ginny couldn’t tell them apart. Female? Male? Both? Vaginas? Cocks? Yes, some had erect cocks that sprung forth vulgarly from between their splayed legs as they danced around her.

“Fuck God! Fuck the Holy Spirit!” cried The Goat.

“Faster … masturbate yourself … for Satan … yes, oh yes … fuck your wet little cunt faster …” cried The Bat.

“Give her your cocks … let her touch us,” demanded The Pig.

Ginny felt the Cat and the Snake rubbing against her. Trapping her between their sweat-drenched androgynous bodies. She felt their effeminate cocks rubbing against her, front and back. Ginny felt them both grinding against her helplessness. Lost in this bizarre dance of perverted lust.

“Is it time? Is it time? … to Fuck her holes … fuck her cunt … fuck her ass … fuck her mouth?” asked the unspoken voice of The Goat as she too rubbed her cock against Ginny’s thigh.

“I want to be the first …” cried the unspoken thought of The Cat.

Ginny felt an intoxication from their carnal wickedness … the witch-creatures’ spell cast through their depraved thoughts hung before her eyes … their true intention began to bubble to the surface … ripples of lust undulated throughout her body as all the creatures began to press themselves eagerly against her. The Cat pulled their bodies together. The other creatures fell back. Now it was The Cat dance. Face to face. Breasts to breasts. Her “cat cock” slipped between Ginny’s legs and rubbed hard against her perineum … not penetrating her … but simply rubbing back and forth as they gyrated against one another. Ginny and the Cat.

”You want me don’t you little one?” Asked The Cat without words.

Someone blew more bluish smoke into her face. Ginny’s vision became both outward and inward. She began to trip as the voices of the creature got louder and more pressing.

“A Sacrifice … Offer her to our sex demons!” demanded The Pig as she furiously finger-fucked herself.

“Yes! Rape her holes …” demanded both The Dog and The Bat.

“You want me? Say it! Say it!” Screamed The Cat, her cock head now pressed against Ginny’s labia in readiness to drive it inside her virgin pussy.

Their collective thoughts showed Ginny images of violent vaginal penetration … of forced sodomy and oral copulation — they wanted her — they wanted to savagely rape, use her, abuse her, torture her, kill her, eat her. It was to be a necrophiliac orgy in which they would literally devour her innocence.

There had been others. Many, many others, just like her, before … she saw this. It was the corruption they sought; the fall into darkness. This is what the creatures craved. The destruction of all piety — lawlessness, anarchy, chaos — but Ginny saw there was a difference.

“Ginny is mine,” said Kris.

Kris, the conductor of this bizarre orchestra of evil, held up her hands — the creatures all knelt before her.


Sister Louise tapped the tip of the riding crop on little Heidi’s shoulder.

“Don’t you dare!” she scolded, as the preteen wept openly. Turning her attention back to Maggie, she said, “My apologies, Sister Maggie … you said you had a suggestion?”

“Yes, I do. As there are three miscreants … and three of us … why don’t we each take one?” She paused, fingering her pussy, “We should position ourselves beneath them, on our backs, as they straddle naked across our faces … so that our mouths are close to their little miscreant vaginas. It would let each of us taste them … taste their naughty little cunts. They wouldn’t dare to piss over our faces or into our open mouths, would they? I could imagine the punishment for such a heinous crime would surely be worse than just a beating with your cane?”

“Hmmmm … yes, you’re right. The punishment would certainly need to be extremely severe. Any young orphan doing such an unspeakable act of public urination … pissing over their superiors … would have to be reprimanded in a very serious way … maybe object-raped or sodomized or both at the same time?” The two women were masturbating at the thought of all the heinous things they could do. “Of course, after first being subjected to the same wet humiliation of their own!”

“Wet humiliation … Yes! And God forbid, should they either cry or complain … I should imagine their punishment would only continue to get worse?” spurred Maggie enthusiastically.

“Yes. Sister Maggie … It sounds like an interesting plan. Maybe we could even make it more of a competition?” Added Sister Louise, her fingers pressing against her exciting clitoris. She looked at the young orphans hungrily. “Let’s say that the last of you three miscreants to urinate; will have a free pass on today’s punishment. Yes. In fact, instead of punishment, it will be your job to punish one of the others — and if you think about going “easy” — you will get whatever they get but twice as much, so you better do a good job. Understand?”

The three young orphans nodded as they all bit their lips in painful desperation.

“The novice can lay under Denise,” commanded Sister Louise, “You may choose between Heidi and Jo?”

“Hmmm … I think I will take Jo,” replied Maggie excitedly.

”Excellent choice. That means, you have me,” said the perverted Sister Louise to the desperate little Heidi, “Don’t disappoint me … I am a very sore loser.”

Sister Louise pulled three thin mattresses from behind the large wooden cupboard and placed them on the floor. She laid down on one, face up, and beckoned the others to do the same. The novice pulled young Denise over to one mattress and lay beneath the young girl so that her vagina was inches above her face. Maggie brought young Joanne close to her. She saw that Sister Louise’s hands could no longer restrain themselves from openly fondling the young urchin before her, touching her flattish breasts, squeezing her nipples, and fondling her concave buttocks.

“Oh yes … abuse … sexual abuse … ritual abuse … they’re all so delicious … mmmm … that’s it Heidi … don’t you dare humiliate me in front of Sister Maggie and Sister Lee … hold that little bladder of yours … suffer for your god … hold it!” groaned Sister Louise, knowing that it would only be a matter of time before her mouth would be rewarded and filled with the sour taste of young orphans piss.

Maggie lay back and pulled young Jo closer to her.

The orphan whimpered, “Please don’t …”

Her sentence was incomplete, as Maggie gripped the girl’s delicate buttocks tightly and pressed herself forward so that Maggie’s tongue could dive into the child’s tiny slit. Maggie licked feverishly at her delicious morsel. The young ten-year-old orphan tasted fishy. Tiny droplets of salty urine escaped her urethra as she wriggled about on the edge of Maggie’s tongue. Maggie licked up the piss dew greedily. There was nothing more that she loved than orphan girl wine … and her thirst was driving her crazy as she thrust her tongue deeper inside the squirming girl.


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