DISCLAIMER: The following is fiction. The content of the story is not representative of the writer’s beliefs, opinions, or attitudes. This story is intended for adult entertainment only. The characters and events depicted in this work are fictional. The author does not condone or promote any unlawful activity such as is depicted in the story. By continuing to read this work you acknowledge that you are an adult who wishes to read works of fantasy and fiction for the purpose only of fantasy. All the characters in this story are adults. They may play different ages for the fictional character that they are depicting but they remain at all times adults. All Rights Reserved © 2023 LITTLESALLY666.

STORY CODES: LGBT themes, WS, Scat, Coercion, Young Ones, Corruption, NC, Rape, Snuff, Satanism, Occult, Witchcraft, Transformation, Femdom, Sissy, Sadism, Blasphemy, MC, Demons, Supernatural, Evil themes.

AUTHORS NOTES: This story was partly inspired by the movie ‘Miss Peregrine’s Home for Peculiar Children’. I wanted to create an interesting back story that could be built upon in subsequent stories/chapters portraying the perennial battle between good and evil – where those who are evil are somewhat obvious, predictable, and monstrous in nature; but more interestingly, where those that are supposed to be ‘good’ are far more covert, clandestine and ultimately more insidious (more evil than evil) in what they are prepared to do to achieve their hidden motives.

CREATED: 07.02.2017 / REVISITED: 18.09.2023

Raven & Dove 2


  • SPRITE: A sprite is a supernatural entity. They are often depicted as fairy-like creatures or as an ethereal entity. The word ‘sprite’ is derived from the Latin ‘spiritus’ (spirit).
  • ENCHANTING/ENCHANTMENT: Enchantment is the term that Sprites use to describe the use of ‘white’ or so-called good magic.
  • BIRD: A bird in the language of the Sprites means a penis, cock, or phallus. When a ‘bird’ sings it refers to the process of ejaculation and orgasm – whether self-induced through masturbation or through other sexual means.
  • MISCREANT: A miscreant is a supernatural entity. They are often depicted as minor demonic creatures of a very mischievous nature. Form the Latin ‘mis’ plus ‘creant’ (meaning mis-believe). They are known to cause all sorts of depraved and villainous acts.
  • INFERNO: A place of worship of the miscreant god (Satan/the Devil/Lucifer). A demonic being that requires the frequent sacrifice of young human (prim) children.
  • MAHRING: A collective term for all forms of miscreant black magic and sorcery. The word is derived from the German word nachtmahr. (nightmare or bad dream); it is an adjective describing the process of using witchcraft against prims and sprites.
  • PRIM: A short form for primitive or primate. Used as a colloquialism for non-magical persons or people especially non-magical children (male or female). Also used as a derogatory terminology, especially in comparison to those with magical abilities.


The world is not what it seems. Folklore may call them pixies, nymphs, cherubs, and fairies; others may mistake them for angels; but the effeminate sprites are supernatural beings that live extraordinarily long lives. They are of prim-birth (human) but are very rare. Sprites are strange but said to be of a benevolent, gentle, and docile nature. They have been hiding all along in plain view. By using enchantment (white magic), they stay out of the reach of those who would do them harm.

The Dove is a guardian of sprites. She has for over a century taking care of them, referring to them as ‘pupils of her school’. With her, they have always been safe. She teaches them to recognize their true nature and to develop their abilities which in turn will help them survive.

Whitney is a young boy just turning eleven. He had never been like the other children his age and with this birthday, he feels an even greater change is abreast. He does not know that he is in fact a sprite.

At the opposite extreme, miscreants are malicious little creatures. Born of prim-birth, just like the sprites, their natures are the polar opposite of their magical brethren. They use mahring (a form of occult sex power) to fuel their deviant existence. They dwell on suffering, abuse, and perversity. The Raven is their mistress and Ransom is just discovering that he belongs with the miscreants. Raven takes him under her wing as she encourages her bisexual miscreants to sexually abuse, rape, torture, and kill prim children in the name of their miscreant god, Satan.

Miscreants seem to be drawn to sprites. Miscreants are hungry for their essence; the smell and taste of which drives them crazy with murderous lust. Raven has discovered by chance that with the essence of the sprites come many enhancements that she relishes. For one, it gives them extended existence; as well as rejuvenation for all of their lifestyle excesses; and the more sprites they consume the greater the effect.

Now the sprites find themselves under threat of being hunted down and even the Dove has to face the deteriorating situation and may be forced into an uneasy alliance to save them from extinction.


The hollow yelps and screams echoed against the bare concrete surfaces descending down into the bowels of the CLUB.

“WE GOT ONE! WE GOT ONE!” Shouted a number of excited voices.

The center of attention in the CLUB immediately shifted focus. A group of enthusiastic degenerates had just arrived. As they exited the lift Ransom noticed that amongst their midst was a very fair-skinned girl that was being dragged against her will. She was thrashing around trying to break free. At closer inspection the girl was not a girl at all — it was actually a young effeminate boy… just like Ransom’s sissy little friend. And for a second Ransom thought it could be Whitney.

His heart stopped.

He sighed realizing that it was not Whitney as this boy was slightly smaller and had much longer blond hair. He did however look very pretty and oh-so fragile. Raven licked his lips, undressing the boy in his mind. Around the boy’s delicate neck, they had placed a thick leather strap that formed a spiked collar. Two or more of the miscreants held him with a pair of rigid poles attached that allowed them to move the tiny boy without actually touching him. He was crying as the miscreants dragged him forward to show off their prize to the verminous Mistress.

“Mistress, O Great Mistress?” they harped.

Raven kept his eyes on the sobbing boy as he was dragged towards their Mistress.

“Strip him,” she ordered.

Two of the miscreants held the boy taught whilst two more tore the delicate fabric from his thin limbs and torso, exposing him completely. Somewhere Ransom overheard the word ‘sprite’ and he remembered the Mistress saying that their semen was irresistible. The boy reminded him immediately of Whitney; and even from this distance, he smelt like Whitney.

That aroma of sunshine and something similar that makes his cock thicken and ache deep in its root. Oh YES. His balls seemed to tighten and constrict in a painful but deliciously pleasurable manner. This thing, this sprite, made him think of the sleepover – how his best friend had driven him crazy with wanton lust.

“Take the fucking sprite down to the inferno. Make ready the sacrifice,” said Raven dispassionately.

“Hail to the dark one!” said her miscreant brood in unison.

The black magic of their mahring filled the air with electricity. Ransom watched as they dragged the boy back to the lift in readiness to descend down into the depths of hell itself. Ransom subconsciously touched the bloody genitals that he had hung so proudly around his own neck. It was the first time he had ever hurt anyone. Having first humiliated him, he had taken great pleasure in torturing the prim, and then finally castrated him … the boy’s blood had sprayed everywhere, soaking him and the other boys as they rejoiced in Ransom’s corruption.

“Well, well.” Said the Mistress looking directly at Ransom. “The Devil has smiled upon you.”

“Yes, Mistress?”

He did not understand what exactly she meant, only that he knew that wanted to taste this delightful new arrival. There was an irresistibility about the sprite. All the miscreants were all like bees to honey. He had witnessed it before … in his most perverted of dreams.


Whitney followed Christie into the roof garden.

“This way,” said Christie teasingly in his effeminate sing-song voice.

Christie was very petite and they both were showing off their matching outfits which consisted of a roseate micro-mini with lavender stretch Lycra bra tops and Peter-pan collars. They looked a fetching pair and both were so delightfully pretty. They skipped hand-in-hand. It was late afternoon and the light was beginning to lower in its intensity.

To compensate the garden was lit up by a thousand of pinpricks of magical twinkling light from what looked like fireflies. Even in this illumination, Whitney could see that the garden grounds were immaculately kept with brilliant bushes lit up like Christmas trees that had been trimmed into the shapes of various mythical beasts, both big and small.

An Arabesque flute began to play softly in the background. It beckoned them onwards towards the garden’s central nirvana. Whitney felt so happy being there with the other beautiful boys. Dove lay across a daybed sipping on an amber liquid from the finest of champagne coupes. She looked up and smiled sardonically at both Christie and Whitney as they advanced towards her. The ethereal lightness of the flute was joined by an accompaniment of the light patting of pagan drums echoing hollowly as jingling tambourines and castanets filled out this haunting melody.

“You are just in time,” said Dove downing her drink in one gulp and then beckoning Siren to refill it. Siren took Dove’s glass and urinated into it until it was bringing with his dark piss.

Dove looked majestic in a simple short dress that was so delicate that the material was almost cobweb thin. She seemed to shimmer in an enchantment of feary dusting. For the first time, Whitney could appreciate the true beauty and elegance of Dove’s fair and frail body. From her coin-sized pink aureolas to her puffy slight breasts, her flowing blond hair to her flaccid bird which was clearly visible through the gossamer thin fabric.

Now Whitney actually felt a little over-dressed as more of the excited young sprites arrived for this enchanted musical performance — mostly dressed in similarly revealing costumes. Whitney recognized Carol, Willow, Rain, India, and Dakota; all of which curtseyed before Dove then stood swaying to the infectious beat of the haunting music.

Siren slid up to join Dove on the large daybed. Taking a gulp of the dirty champagne, Dove spat it into Siren’s mouth and then they both immediately began to kiss passionately. Siren quivered as their tongues twisted back and forth between their open mouths. Whitney looked on voyeuristically.

Christie began to fondle Whitney’s excited little bird, teasing him to full erection and stroking in time with the pulsating pagan beat. Dove broke off her wanton kiss from Siren and pushed him downwards between her open legs, where Siren’s eager mouth immediately descended to suckle upon Dove’s hardening bird. Whitney could clearly see how huge Dove’s cock was, once erect. Siren’s fingers stroked its thick shaft while licking and sucking up its bulbous crown.

Whitney turned his head quickly in reaction to a blurred shape that he caught in his peripheral vision. The blurred image was actually three shapes. As he turned he saw a group of three exotically masked dancers as they all swept up onto the slightly raised platform before Dove and the gathering of excited onlookers (including Christie and himself).

Besides the fetching white masquerade masks that obscured their identities; they were all dressed as shimmering little angels with the most transcutaneous of white tutus, delicate transparent wings, and little matching wands. Their naked chests and bejewelled belly buttons were on full display as they danced on pointe shoes with shimmering satin white ribbons that criss-crossed over their thigh-high white stockings. It was a splendid display of transvestite femininity. They all looked like pretty faery princesses.

“Don’t they all look so delicious?” said Christie licking her bright red lips, “Don’t they make your bird feel like singing?”

“They are truly enchanting,” remarked Whitney to Christie.

Whitney was certainly inspired by the diaphanous display of exotic dancing as the three ballerinas began their graceful routine to the pulsating adagio beat. Whitney wished he could move as smoothly and flawlessly, all in perfect synchronization with each. Whitney’s bird twitched with the most exquisite of masturbatory pleasure and wept a little flood of pre-cum as Christie rubbed him to the bestial pagan beat.

“Aggrhhhhhhhhhhhhhh …” he groaned long and loud in lewd appreciation.

The eerie flute receded and the pulsating beat seemed to take over, signaling a change to the divertissement. The ensemble followed the lead dancer as they all discarded their cute little wands and delicate wings; removing their masquerade masks to reveal ugly horned pig-like masks beneath.

The ensemble’s previously elegant arabesque movements altered radically together with their costume change. The urgency of the heathen drums intensified. Whitney watched in awe as the dancers began to gyrate their near-naked bodies; thrusting their narrow hips back and forth in a circus of sexual provocativeness. They pulled aside the delicate teal layers of their tutus to expose their hard little birds beneath to the delight of their whooping sissy-boy audience all hammering their own as hard and fast as they could.

Looking momentarily over towards where the dancers faced, Whitney saw Dove still being pleasured on her wide daybed, Siren had been joined by another pretty boy called Rain as the both of them took turns fellating the incorrigible Dove. Dove had donned a strange hog-like headdress with large tusk-like lower incisors over a long snout that made her look even more nefarious than the ugly-masked dancers as they depicted the antithesis of their arabesque intro.

“We are blessed tonight with the Pig Goddess,” whispered Christie rubbing Whitney harder.

“The Pig Goddess …” mouthed Whitney hesitantly, almost afraid to say the name out loud.

Now the lead dancer began rubbing his hard little nipples, pinching his dark aureolas while grinding and rolling his narrow bony hips, air-humping his erect bird back and forth to the pulsating pagan beat. Now they all began touching their aroused loins. Two of the three dancers turn to each other, kissing and pressing their birds against one another, while the lead dancer continues the fiery of his masturbation dance.

Whitney thought that it could not get any more exciting until they all began to urinate wildly. Sparkling yellow streams shot upwards as high as they could into the air. It was like three golden fountains; that firstly soaked themselves as they aimed their amber spray directly into their open mouths; then continued to soak each other without missing a beat of the music. The crowd of sissy boys went wild with encouragement.

‘Fuck the pig … FUCK the pig … FUCK THE PIG!” the sissy boys screamed loudly.

The Pig Goddess was thrusting her impossibly long ten-inch bird deep into Rain’s throat. The phallic shape was obvious from his bulging neck, while Siren sucked greedily and licked the Dove’s heavy testicles. Christie led Whitney over toward the Pig Goddess, who pushed both Rain and Siren aside. Her engorged bird stood hard and perfectly upright glistening with their magical spittle. The Pig Goddess pointed at Whitney and beckoned him to join her.

“FUCK THE PIG! FUCK THE PIG!” they all chorused over and over.

“Go to her. Pleasure her with your delicious ass-pussy. Dance upon the Pig Goddess and make her bird sing,” encouraged Christie.

“It’s so huge …” Whitney looked with disbelief at the length and girth of Pig’s phallic flesh.

“Yes, yes … but she will baptise you from the inside … her dirty champagne will fill your guts and we shall all drink from the chalice of your open anus.”

“FUCK THE PIG! FUCK THE PIG!” urged Christie joining in with the rest of the chanting crowd … some obviously close to climax.

Whitney could smell the urine-drenched dancers as they flanked him … Dancing around him … Teasing him as they all masturbated themselves furiously. The beat seemed to accelerate as it approached its crescendo. The lead dancer removed her mask and smiled evilly at Whitney. It was Madison. Whitney grinned back at Madison. He began to coax him into mounting the Pig Goddess’s enormous phallus.

Whitney was not sure, but Madison reassured him and Whitney stepped up onto the day bed and straddled the Pig Goddess, whose hands immediately held him tightly around his narrow hips in a vice-like grip. The Pig Goddess pressed him downwards upon her fleshy spear that bumped against the opening of his anus. Madison began to masturbate him as the first two to three inches entered Whitney’s tight little poop tube.

“Aarrghhhhhh …” he moaned half out of pleasure, half out of pain.

Whitney’s anal muscles seemed to quiver as they burned from the invading flesh pole that slid further inwards at the same time the Pig Goddess thrust her strong hips upwards sinking another couple of inches of the phallic wand. He felt stretched beyond anything he’d experienced before.


Whitney tried to relax as he allowed his own body weight to slide downward onto the Pig Goddess. Fuck it hurt! Fuck! He loved it! The girth of her enormous bird made him feel fully stretched and its blunt-ended length was already violating the deepest recesses of his pretty boy guts. It stirred his stinking feces. Soon the dull pain was eclipsed with a tingling ecstasy as he rose up and sank down … rose up and sank down … waves of euphoria made him shake with an intensity that almost made him black out.


Whitney slid all the way down until the Pig Goddess was balls deep in his bowels. She continued to thrust upwards.

“Aaaarrrrgghhhhhheeeeeeeeee!” he began to scream in a soaring kind of ecstasy.


Whitney bucked back and forth. His magical seed flew from his cock as a wave of uncontrollable lust crashed against his throbbing loins at the same instance he felt the burst of semen deep inside his own bowels, liquid magma pumping into him and filling his churning shit-filthy guts. Spurt after spurt of white-hot spunk penetrated him. It was the last thing he remembered as he blacked out in complete demented delirium.



It was late afternoon, on the day after Madison’d dance.

Just then the uneasy peacefulness of Dove School was broken by three trill voices as they made their way back from the hallway. They had been outside the school grounds on a special errand for Dove. Obviously, something went wrong. Very wrong.

“Miss Dove! Miss. Dove!” Cried, Toni and Julio. Out of the three of them, India’s face looked the most gaunt and anxious. He looked shell-shocked and speechless in his disbelief at what had exactly transpired.

“What is it? What are you crying about? It was a simple task? What went wrong?” answered Dove reading the desperate vibe and panicked thoughts.

“It’s little Willow … he’s gone missing.”

“Missing?” asked Dove.

Her voice was deadly calm. She got up and confronted her kittenish girlies.

“What have you done?”

“Nothing Miss. Nothing … it’s just that they came out of nowhere … it was as if they were expecting us.”

“Like a trap … an ambush maybe,” piped in Toni.

“Yes. Like an ambush,” continued Julio, “We just turned and ran. They were waiting for us and then they took little Willow.”

“Who took Willow?” pressed Dove.

“They looked evil. Like really mean and very angry boys. They were in some kind of disguise?”

“Miscreants,” said Dove.

Everyone went silent.


Raven called Ransom to join her in her chamber. It was a private room that looked directly onto the CLUB, and through one-way mirrors, she could observe all the debauchery below. The door opened and the sound of the throbbing EDM beat permeated the room as the boy stood hesitantly in the doorway. He peered inside, squinting to see in the low light. Raven wore nothing except her sexy spiked heels and she stroked her cock thinking about nasty things.

“Yes, Mistress?” he inquired anxiously.

The boy was naked and fully erect. She had a kind of evil fondness for this new boy. He was a sexy little fucker, but there were many like him in the CLUB. It was not that. Though he seemed to display all the usual miscreant traits there was something else to him that seemed to amuse her. She was not sure what it was and though she had been dismissive of it at first, now she wanted to find out more. As he approached her, he looked uneasy, maybe a little bit intimidated.

“Come in and close the door. Don’t worry. You aren’t in trouble.”

The boy closed the door without touching it. That’s right, she thought, remembering Ransom’s dark gifts.

“I … I wasn’t sure … I mean the boy … killing the prim …”

Raven laughed.

“The prim? It’s something all the boys do … it’s like their own little initiation. That’s all. Nothing to be concerned with.”

The boy looked relieved.

She was lounging across a wide red leather sofa from which she could view the CLUB below. She patted on the seat, indicating he should join her. The naked boy was still decorated in the residual dried blood across his bony chest from the genital necklace that no longer hung around his neck. He walked slowly and deliberately towards her. She felt his nervousness as his eyes pierced the distance between them, fascinated by the length and girth of her shecock.

“Tell me about your dreams Ransom,” she inquired.

“My dreams?”

His eyes looked up and the left, drawing down on his dream memory as he spoke.

He would know exactly what his Mistress was talking about. All the miscreants had these dreams. Dirty fucking little dreams. Perverted dreams. Given to them by the Devil. They guided them into sexual promiscuity from a very early age. A glimpse of what it would be like, once united with their evil and perverse clan.

Miscreants dreamt of satanic ritual abuse; phallic worship; orgies of young boys worshiping demons; praying with the cocks; playing with their poop and drinking their piss; raping and molesting other weaker boys; doing the most unthinkable acts of sexual wickedness whilst bringing themselves to their private Nirvana; and cumming over and over at the thought of serving Satan.

“They are always the same,” he said as he sat down next to her.

“Similar.” Corrected Raven.

She guided his hands to worship her rock-hard cock; instructing him how to stroke it just the way she liked it. Yes. Oh, that felt so fucking good. Why am I never sate? Always hard. Always horny. Always ready for masturbatory prayer.

“Describe them to me. In detail. Don’t leave out anything.”

“Well, I am usually dressed in a long black gown beneath which I am completely naked. My cock is hard and I want to rub it, but I know that I must wait until the appointed time.”

“Very good.”

Raven raised her hips to meet the boy’s downward stroke to increase her masturbatory pleasures.

“I am not alone. There are others dressed in dark robes just like mine. Identical. We are all very excited. I can feel the prickliness of arousal between us all. Like we are waiting for the word to rip off our robes and be naked and horny together. I want to rub myself desperately, but know that I must wait. There is an angel. A beautiful angel. The angel is naked, but his penis is …”


“Yes, limp and small, not hard like the rest of us. The angel is crying like a baby. Sobbing and saying ‘no’ and ‘let me go’. But we don’t want to. We don’t want the angel to leave. The angel is now terrified, but I don’t care. In fact, I want the angel to fear us … to fear me … I want to fucking rape the angel … I want to stick my cock in its mouth, in its bottom … I want to hurt the angel. After raping it repeatedly, I want to kill it; to taste its blood and eat it. I feel so very angry and so sexy at the same time. I feel hot and frustrated. It’s like I’m being held back from what I want. I want to scream at the fucking little angel as if my voice can rip its face off.”

“And then?”

“And then … The time came for us to remove our gowns. I rip my gown as I try to remove it as fast as I can. I don’t care about anything except what I want. There is a sign or signal to be naked before the angel … to show the pathetic little angel our angry hard cocks. Fuck I am so hard. My cock is wet with juices and it makes my hands slippery as I touch myself. We all begin to rub ourselves and think about raping and killing the angel …”

Ransom pauses. He was out of breath just explaining the content of his reoccurring dream.

“Close your eyes,” said Raven.

Her hand gripped the boy’s rigid cock and began to rub it hard.

“Don’t stop … tell me what happens next in your dream?”

“It’s always the same. The best bit. I grab the angel’s shoulders and mount it from behind, pushing my cock into its bottom. It’s so tight, very tight, but warm and dry. I start to pump my cock deeper and deeper into the angel’s small little bubble ass. It feels great. The angel is screaming at me to stop. But I cannot. The more the angel suffers, the better it feels. I fuck faster. And faster. I thrust myself harder against him, tearing at the angel’s long blond hair and digging my sharp nails into the soft skin of his narrow bony shoulders.

“I want to rip the angel apart. There are others around us shouting at me that they want their turn. They all want their turn. I don’t fucking care. I just want to fuck the angel until I cum. I wrap my hands around the angel’s tiny neck and press against his throat. Some of the others are already rubbing themselves against us as we fuck. Their hard wet cocks are delicious too. Some even cum in long gooey spurts, even without raping the angel. Their semen smells acidic and strong. I am going out of my mind as I fuck deeper and press harder. The pleasure is so intense.”

Raven pounded the young boy’s cock in response to his delirious description, rewarding him with increasing pleasure as he unveils his dream.

“And then.”

“I want to cum. I want to cum! I want desperately to cum in the angel’s bottom. The angel is thrashing around, trying to stop me from cumming. It seems to know that if I cum inside it, it will no longer be an angel, but will belong … to … the … DEVIL … arrrghhhhhhhhh…”

The boy ejaculated so hard, his semen pumped from the eye of his cock straight into Raven’s open mouth that hovered inches above his cock. The Mistress gulped at the offering of hot salty semen. The boy fell back against the leather lounge, exhausted from the power of his orgasm.

“And later tonight Ransom, you shall live out that dream.”


Dove stepped out of the brilliant white limousine. The air was hot as hell compared to the chilling air conditioning of the luxurious vehicle. For once she did not wear her trademark satin white opting for a more inconspicuous shade of dark grey. When the driver turned around to head back to the school, as she had ordered, the elegant Dove waved her dainty ringed hand and hailed down a local cab, taking it downtown towards the sleazy red light district.

Inside the cab, the air was no better than outside. The seats showed signs of being torn and repaired with gaffer tape and the cab interior stunk like an old truck-stop-toilet. Dove retrieved a small glass bottle from the pocket of her long grey coat and as she sprayed some of its enchanting content the ugly aromas temporarily disappeared. It was not a long journey, but the cab had been stuck in the downtown traffic for a while and Dove looked anxiously at her timepiece. Finally, the filthy little cab came to a halt against the sidewalk.

“We’re here Miss …” said the lecherous old cab driver.

His dark beady eyes wandered over her body as he subconsciously licked his porker-fat lips.

This part of town was run down and sordid. The noise of chaos rained. The traffic horned and steam rose from the drains. Disgusting place. It was no place for angels.

“Thank you,” replied Dove with a puff of magic fairy dust.

The dirty old man blinked twice. In a matter of seconds, he would immediately forget her, forget why he had driven her into the sleaziest part of the city, forget everything and just go about his business. By now it was already late afternoon. The red, blue, and amber neons flickered and blinked in some kind of competition to outshine each other and attract the attention of kinky patrons to their seedy little massage parlors, bars, strip clubs, sex shops, and brothels.

She seemed to take every precaution to make sure that she was not being followed or being watched. Stepping off the hot asphalt and into the crowded sidewalk she felt its sweaty stickiness. The seedy dankness that reminded her of why she was there. The crowd looked tense and anxious, like creatures on the hunt.

Women laughed loudly and men squeezed their buttocks. The loose pages of an old porn magazine danced past in the warm night air. Nobody looked her way. There was no obvious eye contact. The crowd seemed to randomly part around her like a fast-flowing torrent cut by a river stone.

Dove looked around and entered a dingy blind ally. She walked halfway up the alley. Dove opened the fire exit with a simple spell and made her way down the steep staircase that stunk of stale piss and cigarette butts. She gave it a quick spray, but the stillness of the heat inside made her sweat all over in an unpleasant way. The rotten odors got worse the lower she descended. She carefully walked down several flights of stained concrete stairs, avoiding piles of fetid filth, until she reached a bolted door at the bottom. Dove looked up at the old-fashioned video surveillance camera and gave it the middle finger. A loud buzzer went off and the heavy industrial door sprung open. Dove took one last look around and then disappeared inside.

There on the other side of the door, the volume of the music was ridiculously loud and the choking fumes of smoky debasement overwhelming. There in the semi-darkness Dove was met by the impetuous Raven. They looked at each other measuringly. The lewd Mistress was dressed in red stilettos and nothing else. She stood with her hands placed upon her tilted hips and her hard shecock left nothing to the imagination about the state of her arousal. Dove was inarticulate for a moment as she drew a sharp breath.

Beyond this evil succubus, she could see the gathering of the evil witch’s demon children. The group of naked miscreants were yelping and screaming, unaware of her arrival. Only a few feet away, the trappings of satanic idolatry of the secretive INFERNO were clearly visible in the reddened blaze of oily fires; the entire walls were decorated with the skulls and bones of the countless small victims that had been slaughtered there in the name of this dark cannibal god. The crowd of her wickedest were busy giving their full and undivided attention to the small exposed figure that hung upon the X-shaped cross, bound by wrists and ankles.

Dove immediately recognized the victim as the scared young sprite she knew as Willow. She heard Willow scream in agony as his tiny flaccid bird was being whipped and beaten by a latex-masked miscreant boy who was administering the punishment with great ardor.

The miscreant’s whip had already left multiple red criss-cross lines on Willow’s pale white flesh. The red lines looked raised, bitterly painful, and had begun to bleed in several places. Bruises and other marks on his delicate effeminate body showed the extent to which he had already been subjected to physical abuse and cruelty.

“I upheld my end of the bargain,” grunted the cheerless Dove.

“And in return, you will get exactly what you want,” snapped the impatient Mistress.



Whitney looked out of the window from the fairy tale castle that was now his home. The earlier commotion had triggered a panic. He calmed himself. From what he understood from the bits and pieces of conversations, the sprites had some enemies. They called them the miscreants; that were purported to be like predatory boys about their age that all wanted to harm them. He did not understand why they wanted to harm his new friends. It seemed that one of the pretty young boys that had been at his welcome, a sprite called ‘Willow’ had gone missing.

His new friends, Toni, Julio, and India claimed that they had been ambushed by a group of angry miscreants and that they had somehow managed to abduct Willow. The others, including Madison and Christie, had been crying ever since they had heard the news. Whitney felt that something was not right. Obviously, something tragic was about to occur and it seemed, despite their enchanting powers, none of the sprites could help their dear little friend. The fear of the miscreants was obvious and omnipresent. There was a deep fear throughout the entire school, like a negative cloud that was huge grey, and pervasive. All was quiet. It was like a funeral home.

Who were these evil creatures? Miscreants? Why did they want to hurt the spirits? What was going to happen to Willow? Everybody seemed upset and unable to get their act together. It was disappointing. What was the point of being able to conjure power white magic, if it could not be used to help one another?

Whitney thought about Ransom.

He was strong and purposeful. He would know what to do. He would not let the miscreants hurt him and his friends. He paused. No, that was no longer true. That was Ransom before he changed. Ransom was definitely not the same anymore. He was as likely to cause them harm as these mysterious miscreants — HELL! He might even be one of them. It was a horrible thought that he felt guilty thinking of immediately … But then again, it was not such a wild suggestion.


Madison broke Whitney’s train of thought and brought him back to the moment.

“There you are.”

Whitney did not answer right away. He blinked slowly. After a while, he sighed heavily.

“Any news?”

“We’ve been told to stay inside the school until further notice. I overheard Miss Dove say that it was not safe at the moment and she would need to take extra measures to ensure the protection of the school. I don’t know what she will do, but I hope she isn’t too late to save Willow.”

“It sounded as if you’d all given up in Willow?”

“Look. I cannot lie, this has happened before … A while back, we lost a few of us. We weren’t sure before, but this time Toni, Julio, and India were there. If it was miscreants, the news would not be good. They might have taken all of them! Think of that! And then we wouldn’t have known about any of their fates. It’s so frightening.”

They hugged.

“Where is Miss Dove?”

“We don’t know. She said that we are not to leave. She was very explicit about that point. She said that we must all stay here and pray for Willow to be returned to us. But, she also said that we had to be prepared for the worst. That maybe we will never see Willow again.”

Madison burst into a fresh bout of tears making his black mascara run down his pale translucent pale cheeks. He wiped his face to the long sleeve of his delicate chiffon top and sniffled back his sadness.

“We have to do something,” said Whitney.

“Like what? Pray?”

“Like try and find Willow.”

“But Miss Dove gave orders that we were ALL to stay within the safety of the school grounds?”

“But what if we could help Willow, wouldn’t we? We are all magical? Can’t we do anything?”

“Nobody ever goes against the words of Miss Dove. She always knows what is best!”

“Maybe it’s time we did something. I cannot stand around and let these bullies hurt our friends. Will you come with me?”


“I don’t know yet. Let’s get dressed in something less conspicuous and go to wherever Toni, Julio, and India last saw Willow?”

“I don’t know. I mean, I want to help Willow … But I’m scared.”

“So am I — but we cannot do nothing right?”


Raven had called the rest of the miscreant boys left in the CLUB, together with Ransom, to join her below. Other miscreants had already taken the very unhappy sprite down into the INFERNO. It was, as the name suggested, hot and fiery. As they entered the smell was almost overwhelming, but that was the point. The Mistress of evil dreams was pleased with the chaos. This was the place of sensorial overload. A place like no other… with the exception of Hell itself.

The countless rituals passed her eyes as she watched her wretched boys. The bones that decorated the walls were evidence of past suffering. Each skull had been cleaned of skin and hair and used as trophies to their satanic bliss. The INFERNO was red hot tonight. The Mistress pulled Ransom to her side as the miscreant boys leaped about in excitement to get the ritual sacrifice underway.

“You will do as I say,” she ordered.

“Yes, Mistress,” answered the excited boy.

He was like a cat on a hot tin roof.

“Stay close to me,” she grabbed his thin throat, “Tonight may not be yours. I am the one who must decide. Do you understand? Your dream will be fulfilled, but maybe not tonight.”

“Yes, Mistress.”

He looked away. He was lying and she laughed inside at his obvious propensity for disobedience. It was another miscreant trait. Maybe he was the one?

She slipped into the darker recesses of the INFERNO, where the light and the heat were minimal. She saw an image of a woman appear in view on the black-and-white sensor monitor. The woman gives the monitor the finger as a last sign of defiance. Raven smiled with bright white teeth. She pressed the fire door release. A loud buzzer announced its opening but nobody else took any notice. At the open door was her nemesis. Raven stood with her hands on her hips. She pressed her shecock out as it drooled with obvious excitement.

It was that stupid fucking bitch. Dressed in dark grey she was still the Miss fucking fancy white Dove. She was a fucking little hypocrite. She was the one. She had betrayed her own. A bargain had been struck and she had delivered one of her precious little sprites to the hands of her evil boys. Just to save her stupid school. Something muttered about the greater good! Fuck! That was so laughable. She stroked her cock.

Mmmmmm. Fuck yer.

It was made to look like some kind of accident. As if the stupid little sprite had been in the wrong place at the wrong time. Her cock drooled with pre-cum. SNAP! The trap had been sprung and there would be no quarter given. The sprite would be the guest of honor at his own banquet! The deviousness of the plan made her cock twitch and drool pre-cum.

The door opened and Dove appeared. She stepped inside the INFERNO without saying a word. She looked silently awkward. Completely out of place. And so she should. This was the demon’s domain. The house of death and misery. Sex, blood, urine, and semen. Dove’s nose twitched at the intensity of the sexual stench.

Her eyes looked beyond the Mistress. She was looking at the sacrificial pyre. Her beloved little one, crucified, nailed to the X-frame. The smoke and fires made it hard to get a clear view from the doorway. If she wanted to really see what was going on, she would have to enter and walk right up to the pyre. Her little one would see her. The little one would call out to her for help.

“I upheld my end of the bargain,” grunted the cheerless stranger.

“And in return, you will get exactly what you want,” the Mistress barked back.


Whitney and Madison stood before the fire exit.

“Willow was taken through here,” stated Whitney.

His head pounded, but more disturbingly, his little bird was throbbing to the point of almost orgasmic release.

“What’s the matter, Whitney?” asked Madison.

“I don’t know. I don’t know. We have to go inside NOW,” cried Whitney.

Madison used his enchantment to open the door and they both stepped inside the dank stairwell. It was dark and the stale air stank rankly. They made their way in the dim light, down to the base of the staircase where they encountered another locked door.

“I can’t. I’m too scared.”

Whitney looked back at Madison. Whitney kissed him.

“If you cannot go any further … Just get me in.”

“This is crazy! What are you going to do?”

“I don’t know yet. I just feel something really bad is about to happen.”

Madison enchanted the second door and the latch sprang open. A stronger and even more pungent odour filled their nostrils. The loudness of the throbbing music immediately overwhelmed them and through the crack in the doorway the evil beyond beckoned.

“Wait here for me,” said Whitney.

He was visibly shaking.

“Don’t …” said Madison.

Before the words left his lips, Whitney was already inside. The door slammed shut.


Deep in the INFERNO, the malodor of sweat, flesh, and sexual fluids was almost overpowering, but Dove had told herself that she would not let Raven get the better of her. She had her reasons. That bitch was not going to get the upper hand on things. With the greater good clear in her mind, Dove tried to drive out the stirring of her morbid fascination. The fact that she came here was bad enough.

She had her doubts. Serious doubts.

She heard Willow’s hollow scream again. Her heart ached at the sound, but for some reason, her bird was hard as a rock and throbbed secretly beneath her long coat. His screams were more urgent and cacophonous by the minute, matched only by the fanatical yelps of his tormentors. She should not have come to this wretched place. It was evil. It was wicked. Being here was toxic to her own purity and divinity. Raven’s temple represented everything that she had despised. And the cruelty and bestiality seemed to make her shake uncontrollably. Still … Her bird throbbed even harder.

Dove turned to leave when Raven grabbed her wrist.

“Why in such a hurry to leave?”

“Let go,” scoffed Dove pulling against Raven’s tight grip.

“We’re not so different … You and I.”

“You think so?”

“I know so … Pig Goddess.

Dove looked a little surprised. How did she know? Raven laughed sardonically at her. It was demeaning. Her face burned with anger. She felt the momentary humiliation of someone caught in her lie (be it a lie to herself).

“Fabrication. Fairy tales.”

“You think I don’t know what goes on in your shabby little sissy palace?”

“We … We all have our needs.”

Raven drew closer.

“This deal we have. You and I. That I leave your precious school alone in return for the occasional sprite. Your so-called ‘token’ gesture?” Raven was inches from Dove’s face. “You may have had noble intentions once, but we are both children of dark times. My kind may need to devour yours to attain their share of blessed immortality … But in our loins, we both enjoy the same perversities. Look how your rituals have changed. Look how deviantly sexual you have become. You pretend to yourself. Pig Goddess! Hell! That’s just another form of devil worship.”

“I …” Dove began to speak but was cut off by Raven’s rant.

“You loath it, but yet you encourage it. You hate it, but yet you embrace it. Make no mistake I would destroy everything. It is my deadly nature! But it need not be that way … You could keep your blessedness and your pathetic school drip-feeding us one sprite at a time … BUT why not drop this charade and join the party … Take off the parody of humanity that you wear as your divine disguise.”

“You make me sick, Raven.”

The Mistress laughed again, stroking her cock.

“You are such a fucking hypocrite, Dove! You could have met me anywhere. But no. You insisted on meeting here … In the INFERNO. WHY? You wanted to witness the rape ritual yourself, didn’t you? You know full well that we will abuse, torture, kill and eat your fucking little toys … Maybe, secretly the Pig Goddess wanted to participate in the blasphemous rites all along?”

“Don’t presume you know me.”

“Oh, I don’t presume anything. Go … If that is what you really want,” the Mistress released the grip she had on Dove, “Or don’t … Stay … Disrobe now … Show me how hard your pizzle is and come and join our little ritual … “

“Are you daring me?”

“Ha! When we kill the fucking little sprite, there will be no other witnesses. Nobody will know or care what happened here. Maybe you’d like to make this a regular thing with us? It could be our dirty little secret.”

Dove looked dumbfounded by the evil demon’s speech. She was visibly shaking. Unable to contain her overflowing feelings.

“I …” Dove was tongue-tired.

“Go on. Unleash the true Pig Goddess.”


To be continued …


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