SATAN’S VILLAGE 4 by Oral Slave 666

Disclaimer: The following is fiction. The story’s content does not represent 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 unlawful activity as the story describes. 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 they are depicting, but they remain at all times adults.

Writer: Oral Slave 666

Subject: SATAN’S VILLAGE 4

Link: LS666 Email / 30.12.2024

Satan’s Village 4 – Welcome Guests

Deputy Asmo adjusted the binoculars to bring the woman’s ass into focus. Hail Satan, she was hot. The guy had a great ass as well and was tall and muscular, but male ass was always the young guardian’s second choice. They were standing by an efficient-looking tent and campfire in earnest discussion.

The woman looked in his direction for a moment, and he thought she saw him. But he couldn’t imagine how given the foliage and distance. Best to proceed with the intervention. He put away the glasses and walked toward them, and they turned to face him with suspicion when he was still one hundred yards away. He wished he was wearing a gun instead of just a tazer.

“Good afternoon,” he offered in as nonthreatening a way as he could manage, “I’m Deputy Asmo. Do you have a permit to camp here?” he asked motioning toward their tent.

The couple was even more attractive close-up, and his cock twitched.

“No, we do not,” she replied with a voice which would melt the hardness in a man’s mind and transfer it to his crotch.

“Well, I’m afraid without a permit, one which requires a careful review, I can’t allow you to stay here.”

The two stared at him without any sign of disappointment.

“Well, I’m sorry but I have to escort you off Haddess Valley property.”

“It’s late,” her voice pulled Asmo toward her, and her beauty was more severe the closer he got, “We can’t make it back to our car before dark. Can’t we stay here for the night?”

Asmo was about to say, ‘Of course’ but shook off the fog in his brain.

“No. But I’ll tell you what. Since you didn’t know you needed a permit, the city can put you up at a bed and breakfast downtown tonight, and you can apply for a permit tomorrow.”

This was the plan.

“Very well,” replied the man, his voice as melodious as his partner but with a threatening undertone.

The Deputy helped them break camp, and they followed him back to his squad car. The ride back to town was filled with questions about Haddess Valley’s history (which was the name everyone outside the valley knew the Village by). Asmo answered them all, mostly with lies of course, and they seemed to know he was lying.

The Paimon Bed and Breakfast was a pink Victorian house just down the street from the small police station and temple and had served as the town brothel for eighty years until the temple was built in 1950. Asmo helped the couple with their gear as Salome Paimon checked them in. He couldn’t help but reminisce about how tight her forty-year-old pussy was last time he filled it. Salome had spoken to everyone including their six guests: two swinger couples, and a couple of horny Satanists, about the pair who would be joining them, telling them not to discuss anything illegal in public.

“The first night is in the city, thereafter it’s $120 per night,” Salome said.

It was half the going rate, but the Mayor had promised to cover the rest.

A perky brunette, she looked half her age, as did all the other adults in town.

“Well hi, there,” said a cute middle-aged blond in a short sun dress to the two.

Salome could smell the cum on her. She had just been spit-roasted by six guys in the temple while her husband took videos for their family album.

“Nice to see we have some new guests. More is always better,” she smiled.

The two sniffed, and then a disgusted look crossed their faces before they suppressed it. The blond was obliviously in post-coital fog.

“I’m Betsy Buns from Knoxville. My hubby and I are on our PlayStation. You?”

No reaction.

“Both of us go both ways and simply love showers, of the golden variety that is.”

The guests didn’t respond. They were either unfamiliar with the expressions or were playing stoic in the face of depravity.

“I’m Thor Heyerdahl, and this is my sister, Helga,” he said with a voice that commanded fealty.

“Oh. I’m sorry,” said Salome, “I didn’t realize. I gave you a king-size bed.”

“That will not be a problem,” replied Helga. “We have shared a bed many times.”

“A brother and sister. I love it!” Betsy was almost blushing, “The family that plays together stays together.”

Again no reaction from the new guests.

“Are you going to the farm this evening? I hear they have some amazing stallions.”

“No,” replied Thor, “We will be observing the town and resting this evening.”

“Oh, okay,” said Betsy with a pout. “Just seems like a waste. You can do anything you want here, like …“

“You’re welcome to have dinner with my family and me if you like,” Salome interrupted.

In their room, which was warm with a green paisley wallpaper that seemed vaguely erotic and dark red fuzzy blankets, the two sniffed the air.

“Ugghh. This whole place reeks of iniquity,” said Helga.

It wasn’t her imagination. The Priestess had instructed Salome to leave the sheets from the previous guest which were covered in semen, female juices, and a little piss, on the bed and to just cover it up with clean sheets — Helga took a deep breath through her nose again and, this time, suppressed her revulsion and let the scent settle in the primitive, human part of her brain.

“It makes me so angry, such organized sin and the corruption of the innocents. Those teenagers at school and in the street,” Thor growled.

They had only caught the last sex ed class at school. As his rage settled in and with the images of young bodies gleefully fucking in his mind, Thor felt his great cock stiffen. It had happened before when he was annoyed with a woman, especially Helga. He said a prayer: ‘Lord remove this lust from me,’ and it was gone.

Dinner was at a table for twenty with a chandelier overhead and dark red tablecloth. The guests sat at one end with Salome, her burly-looking husband Saul — who no one would suspect was the town’s most indefatigable cock hound having once taken twenty-eight men up his ass in a night and licking up the puddle of cum afterwards — and ten-year-old Bathsheba whose large dark eyes were spellbinding. They were just finishing the fried chicken, mashed potatoes, and corn.

“No, sorry to say, we don’t have Internet, cell service, or television here in the valley,” Saul was explaining.

He was trying to imagine how big Thor’s cock might be.

“We’re quite isolated. We debate about getting it all the time but … I think it might be a good thing.”

“I think I’m in love with Bobby Dark,” Bathsheba cut in seeing a chance, “We had so much fun in school today. Bobby has the most wonderful hands, even better than Circe Creel, and the boys say the same thing about him. He …”

“I think you need to go do your homework Ba,” Salome cut her off, “You can have your pie later.”

Ba got up and stomped off and Thor, with his superior hearing, thought he heard her mutter ‘cunt’ as she left the room.

The guests were quite tired after wandering the town, finding nothing damnable, and the delicious wine punch, which Salome said was from a family recipe going back 150 years, was making them feel warm all over and sleepy. So they retired to their room where they were again welcomed by the aroma of heavy rutting.

This time they suppressed the disgust which had been pounded into them their whole long lives and allowed themselves some pleasure. They were more sexual human, and therefore animals, than asexual angels after all. As they settled into bed in their nightclothes, they gave each other a platonic kiss, then Helga buried her face in the sheets and inhaled deeply and with relish.

“Fuck me! Uuhhhhh. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.”

The woman’s cry heard through the thin walls (designed that way for the brothel) together with the rhythmic pounding woke them both. Helga caught herself smiling then shook it off. Thor growled and then jumped out of bed. Helga could make out the outline of his penis, not yet erect, through his white pajama bottoms. He headed for the door.

Saul opened the door of the next room naked and with his long slender cock pointing straight up.

“Oh hi, Thor, want to join us?”

He looked at Thor’s bottoms then opened the door fully. A buxom blond and skinny man were on their hands and knees on the bed, moaning, while two large black men pounded them from behind. Two Latinos with large, dripping pricks were standing by hard and thick. One was being fluffed by a pubescent redheaded girl. Thor hesitated. Maybe it was the punch. The offer touched his animal self, and his animal self responded yes. No.

“You’re making too much noise,” he growled.

“Oh, of course. We’ll keep it down.”

“Eight of them, and you don’t want to know what they were doing,” he said as he returned to bed.

But she did.

The noise did lessen significantly, but as they lay in bed, and with their superior hearing they could still make out the slapping noises and the ‘Yeah, fuck that ass,’ … ’Cum in my mouth,’ … ’Piss on me,’ … and at the end, ‘Let me lick you clean, baby’ … voices.

Helga’s vagina was moist for the first time in years. She looked over at Thor’s sleeping form and could make out the silhouette of his massive penis. It was half hard, she thought, though she hadn’t seen it since he was a boy almost two hundred years ago. It was as beautiful as her brother’s face. She wanted to touch it, suck on it, feel it inside her. The shame was immediate, but she pushed it aside. She wanted it even more because it was forbidden.

She reached out and touched it so softly. It twitched. She watched with feline wonder as it grew beneath her caress, the huge head peeking out above his bottoms. She put her fingers inside her wet crack then rubbed the juice on the bottom of his cock pushing the cotton cloth down with her other hand.

So glorious! His giant balls were tight as if ready to empty themselves and his cock bobbed as if a magnificent beast preparing for action. It was deserving of her kisses, deserving of her worship. She moved to … Only Yahweh is worthy of our worship.

The iron wall of the Law had come down almost crushing her. She shuddered, rolled over and tried to sleep. Thor hadn’t been asleep in fact, but never spoke then or thereafter.

THE END OF CHAPTER FOUR