DISCLAIMER: The following is fiction. The story’s content does not reflect 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 they are depicting, but they remain adults at all times. All Rights Reserved © 2026 LITTLESALLY666.
STORY CODES: Transgender, Young Ones, WS, Sacrilegious, Witchcraft, Occult, Magic, Supernatural.
CREATED: 11.10.2026 (V14)
Tuesday’s Midnight Fables 2
ABOUT TUESDAY’S MIDNIGHT FABLES
Welcome to my “Midnight Fables” — my name is Tuesday.
I like to think of myself as a storyteller with something extra. Transgender? Maybe. But more than that, I love it when evil triumphs over good. Why shouldn’t all classic fairy tales end with a less-than-fairy tale finale?
What a wonderful world it would be where: the “Evil Witch of the East” gets to burn Dorothy and Toto at the stake; the “Big Bad Wolf” gets to tear the three little pigs to shreds; the “Wicked stepmother and her two incestuous daughters” get to abuse and rape poor little Cinderella (and get to fuck her Prince Charming).
Well, if this kind of fable isn’t your cup of tea, please read no more. But if you’re wicked, dark and evil — or get off on creepy shit — then this might be of interest to you. Written by some of the more prolific writers on LS666 — happily ever after doesn’t always turn out so well …
ARE YOU ALL SITTING COMFORTABLY?
The fireplace has always been the traditional place for storytelling. Tuesday, the most beautiful and talented of all storytellers, sits down in the large leather chair.
The fireplace crackles and its eerie light dances across her pale white skin, matching black ponytails and blunt fringe. She sits down and opens her large manuscript-like book of evil fables, for it’s the midnight storytelling hour.
She looks at her audience with a mischievous grin. Dressed entirely in black, her darkly strange, feminine outfit emphasizes her slim, petite features.
“Are you all sitting comfortably?” asks the enigmatic Tuesday. “Then I shall tell you the classic story of Beauty and the Beast — sometimes referred to as ‘Magasin des Enfants,’ which translates to ‘Children’s Store’ — popularized in 1756 by Jeanne-Marie Leprince de Beaumont. Of course, in this version, the young Beauty selflessly goes to live in the enchanted castle of a fearsome Beast to save her father, and despite his frightening appearance, her love for him breaks the spell, transforming him into a handsome prince … and everyone lives happily ever after … but this isn’t that version.
Klef is sixteen years old. He’s a cute and handsome boy. He is the “beauty” of our story. His family fell on hard times, and his father borrowed money from the greedy transsexual, called Priestess Belle. She is our “Beast”. The Priestess takes Klef back to her castle as collateral against the money she has loaned to Klef’s hapless father. Little does Klef, or his family, know what depravity and sexual perversions Priestess Belle has in mind for the young, naive boy. As his father has no possible means of paying back the debt, will Klef simply become another victim of the Beast’s depravity? Or will Klef accept his fate, possibly even grow to love Priestess Belle, especially her thick, throbbing transsexual cock?
TUESDAY’S MIDNIGHT FABLES — “BEAUTY & THE BEAST” — CHAPTER ONE (2,182 WORDS)
“Oh, Father,” cried young Klef.
Klef was but a teen when his father fell into serious debt. His father’s gambling debts had left the family with nothing. The only one who would loan him the money to cover his gambling debt was Priestess Belle. She had agreed to take his debt, but Klef was to be held as his father’s collateral.
”I’m truly sorry,” his hapless father cried, “I have no other option; otherwise your sisters and mother will be left destitute. You will go and stay with Priestess Belle in her castle. But, don’t worry, as soon as I clear my debt, you will be returned home to our family. Please forgive me, son!”
His father, for all good intentions, was not the wisest of men and being a compulsive gambler meant that it was only a matter of time before he created another serious financial issue. And the reality was that the day when the debt would be cleared may never come.
”Oh, Father, don’t cry,” answered young Klef, feeling sorry for his father, “I will serve the Priestess the best I can. And pray for my speedy return. God will hear our prayers. I know he will.”
“Yes, my son. God willing, I will make back my losses. We’ll live the life we deserve, and we’ll be free of this terrible arrangement.”
Now, know that the people of the village all feared the castle and, by association, Priestess Belle. They were, by nature, a naive and superstitious people. There were many yarns about the mysterious Priestess Belle. Some said she was a recluse. Others said she was bewitched. And some even considered her to be a terrible monster — a beast, in fact. It was said that her ominous castle, set deep in the forest, was a den of iniquity. An evil and depraved place. They said that many young boys from the local villages had gone to serve the beast and had never returned. Were these just old wives’ tales? Maybe. Maybe not.
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So, young Klef had left his family home to travel, by horse and carriage that had been provided by Priestess Belle, to bring the boy to her evil lair that lay deep in the creepy, old forest. It was said to be a foreboding place. A dark and malevolent place that even the black ravens refused to go.
Klef put on a brave face as he climbed into the ominous black carriage. It wasn’t uncomfortable. In fact, it felt luxurious. The coachman’s whip sounded the beginning of Klef’s misadventure. He was rightfully fearful of Priestess Belle. He’d heard many of these chilling stories about her. They had been rather unpleasant stories. Unchristian stories. Stories that made his virgin skin crawl.
But Klef had always been a very positive person. He tried to reassure himself that he’d be fine. It would be a bit of an adventure. He just needed to keep his spirits up. But, as the journey continued into the dark and creepy forest, and the carriage with its heavy horses neared the huge Gothic gates of Priestess Belle’s castle, he could see why others simply stayed away from this oppressive and ominous place.
“We’ve arrived, young Sir,” announced the coachman.
Dressed in his Sunday best, Klef stepped down from the fancy carriage. A cold wind had picked up, and the chill made him shiver. The coachman wore a deep hood, a heavy coat, and gloves. The coachman said nothing further. He helped Klef with his small bag, up the steep stairs to the huge castle door, but quickly turned around and left before the door opened.
Klef gripped the heavy brass door knocker, which was shaped like a clenched fist, to announce that he’d arrived.
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The heavy wooden doors creaked slowly open, and Klef peered inside. He was surprised to find that the door had opened on its own. Inside, he saw the stone floor, stone walls, and more stone steps. He hesitantly stepped across the threshold. Again, the huge doors closed behind him of their own accord. Another shiver passed through his spine. Already, he’d begun to dislike Priestess Belle’s abode. What would Priestess Belle look like? He’d somehow imagined her to be ugly, huge, and grossly overweight — maybe that’s why she lived such a reclusive lifestyle. Hidden behind the ten-foot-thick walls of her vampiric castle.
With his small bag in hand, he walked slowly down the long corridor. His footsteps echoed in the hollow emptiness. Soon he came across a large room with an open fireplace. It was a strangely inviting place. It said that he’d arrived.
Inside, the walls were covered in teak and walnut paneling. There were many elaborate oil paintings of rather erotic scenes. They seemed to depict naked figures frolicking around in jungle-like, richly colored landscapes. Their shiny skin was like dark chocolate. These bizarre canvases all carried the obvious tribal overtones of some distant African location.
The furnishings and fittings all appeared to be very ethnic. The overly huge fireplace was a yawning stone mouth of a lion or a jungle creature that looked similar. Exotic animal furs served as rugs scattered throughout. Spears, knives, shields, and other tribal decorations adorned the room. Such finery as Klef had never seen before. He concluded that Priestess Belle must be wealthy beyond anything he’d known. Where was the Priestess, he wondered?
Klef didn’t have to wait long.
“You must be the white Uzuri; they call Klef,” it was the ostentatious voice of the tall, negress, Priestess Belle.
He wasn’t sure of the meaning of the word “Uzuri”, but he felt intimidated by her sheer elegance and had no compulsion to ask. The Priestess certainly wasn’t ugly, huge, or fat. In fact, she was absolutely gorgeous. Her long, slender, toned arms and legs were discreetly hidden in a black lace ensemble (like the belle of the ball). Her coffee-colored skin was accented by the brightness of her white carnivore teeth. Her long, black African hair fell loosely around a slender neck and shoulder. Her deep brown eyes twinkled in the firelight. The Priestess was no monster, he thought. No, she was completely enchanting.
“Ye-s-s-s,” he stuttered.
“You mean, yes, Mistress!”
”Sorry … yes, Mistress …”
“Now, what have they got you wearing there, my white Uzuri?” she said, inspecting his rather mundane Sunday-best clothing, as if he were covered in some kind of strange filth.
“Wha-t-t-t do you mean … Mistress?”
“I mean, these awful rags you’re wearing. They won’t do. Take them off. Take them off, this instant!”
“I don’t understand, Mistress?”
“Undress my Uzuri. Now! All of it. Get them off!”
Klef didn’t understand, but did as he was told. Right down to his pristine, white underwear.
“Them too!” she ordered, pointing to his underwear.
“Mistress … You mean my …”
“Yes, my white Uzuri. Take off that disgusting-looking underwear! Show me your uume!” she replied.
Another strange word, “Uume”. Again, Klef did not question but did as he was told. Shy, he covered his genitals with his hands. He’d never been naked in front of anyone before, let alone in front of an Ebony Priestess.
“Now, don’t be shy, my young Uzuri,” said Priestess Belle, as she quickly gathered up his clothes and threw them all into the large, yawning fireplace, where they quickly burned to cinders, “Now, that’s much better!” she said approvingly, “Yes, I do prefer my slaves to be completely naked. And you’re such a delightful one … mmmmmm!”
Then, standing in front of him, the Priestess sharply smacked his hands away, which had been covering his intimate parts. This had completely caught young Klef off guard. Was he now a slave? He felt helpless standing naked in front of this gorgeous-looking negro woman. Her eyes seemed to dance across his exposed body in a way that he’d never experienced. She looked at him lewdly. It was as if she was drinking him in through her hypnotic brown eyes. And even as she inspected his exposed body, he felt a strange and unexpected arousal.
“Ah, how sweet. Your little slave uune seems to want to serve its new Shetani Mistress!” she teased.
The Black Priestess stepped forward and began to fondle him. Her coffee-colored hand seemed to know exactly how to touch him, bringing him immediately to an unwanted erection. With his eyes downcast, he felt his face burning with embarrassment. But, at the same time, he couldn’t deny the strange sensations that now stirred inside of him.
“Yes, you’ll do nicely, my white Uzuri. There’s much for you to learn. To do. To gain experience under my control. You will learn to adore me. You hear me? Come. Worship me. That’s it. Don’t be shy. Mmmm … from now on, I will be the only thing you think about. Do you understand?”
Klef didn’t understand. So many word he didn’t recognize. Maybe they were from a distant language. He felt conflicted and confused. This was certainly ungodly. There seemed to be a kind of wickedness in her words and actions. Ungodly … Ungodly … He knew it was wrong to be touched in these places. It was something he’d learned in church. God created him to follow his holy laws, not to partake in the shame of sin.
“I … I … I don’t understand, Mistress,” he bleated apologetically.
She stopped fondling him and sat down on her throne-like chair. Her eyes never left his.
“Punyeto! Punyeto! Masturbate, my Uzuri,” she said calmly, “Punyeto! Masturbate yourself. Now. Here. In front of your new Mistress. Your Shetani Goddess. Shahawa! I must see you ejaculate!”
What did “Punyeto” mean? Klet felt helpless again. He’d never been so embraced before. Even saying the word “masturbate” felt sinful and wrong. Conflicted with his religious beliefs, they stood against his new mistress’s orders. But subconsciouly his hands seemed to obey her command as he stroked himself in front of her.
“That’s good, my nyeupe uzuri … my white beauty. Faster!” she ordered, “Stroke! Yes. Stroke yourself for me. Do it. Mmmmm. Stroke yourself faster!”
The boy began to cry.
”Please, no … Mistress!”
“Faster, nyeupe uzuri! Faster! Mmmmm … Punyeto! … Punyeto! … Shahawa!”
His obvious conflict with her commands, yet his obedience, only made Priestess Belle even more excited. She seemed to be enjoying his complete humiliation. She picked up a small half-skull bowl off the side table and gave it to him.
“Make sure you don’t spill your seed, nyeupe uzuri! Make your offering to your Goddess. Fill my bowl, slave! You understand, nyeupe uzuri!?”
Klef understood. She’d called him a slave; was that all he was? A slave to obey his black goddess. To appease her every perverted command. No matter how obscene. He shook as he continued to hold the small bowl in front of his cock. He continued crying and masturbating at the same time. His nervous fingers stroked his young flesh up and down, closer and closer to orgasm.
”Yes. Yes! That’s beautiful! Faster! Give me your shahawa! I want to see you cum!” she bleated, as she absentmindedly stroked her own bulging crutch through the thin material of her leopard-skin leggings.
xxxxx
Klef found himself in a rather miserable cell. It felt like what he imagined prison to be. Stone walls, vertical bars, and no windows. It was dark, damp, and cold. A narrow bunk with only a thin blanket for cover. A bucket to shit in. Hungry and thirsty, he’d tried to sleep. It was then that he reflected upon the events of the day.
“You will need to learn your place, mtumwa mweupe, white slave,” she’d told him.
He thought about what had happened during his first encounter with the negro Priestess. How his face had burned with total embarrassment, as he’d masturbated in front of her. She’d laughed at his pathetic attempt to do her bizarre bidding. He’d even cried when his semen ejaculated into the small bowl she’d given him.
“Don’t spill your seed, mtumwa mweupe!” She cried in her strong African accent.
He had done exactly as she’d ordered him. His meagre ejaculation hardly covered the base of the small bowl. But at least he hadn’t spilt a drop. She’d then snatched it from him. She smiled greedily with an evil grin, before swallowing his semen, licking the inside of the bowl, before his eyes.
“Hmmmm …. shahawa … Delicious,” she mused.
He turned in his uncomfortable, narrow cot. It was cold and damp. His toilet was nothing but a stainless steel bucket in the corner. He could smell his own stench. He wished he could bathe. It had been so embarrassing to perform his vulgar act before her. A nightmare, in fact. He cried silently to himself. Ashamed of his behavior. What other horrid things lay before him? His only hope was that his father would quickly win back the money, settle this unfortunate debt, so he could leave this god-forsaken place forever. He prayed to God to forgive him for his sinful trespasses.
“Lord, please forgive. Let me go home …” he whimpered.
Eventually, Klef cried himself back to sleep.
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TUESDAY’S MIDNIGHT FABLES — “BEAUTY & THE BEAST” — CHAPTER TWO (2,400 WORDS)
Without any windows, Klef had lost the sense of time. He felt so disoriented. Was it day or night? How long had he been there? A noise caught his attention. He looked up to see that there was another white boy. Much like him, the white boy was also naked. The boy looked malnourished. He was carrying a small steel tray of something that resembled food and drink. The boy said nothing. He simply placed the tray through the slot in the bars to Klef’s cell.
“Who are you?” asked Klef.
The white boy said nothing. He just turned to leave.
“Please … I’m Klef … please don’t leave,” Klef cried.
“We’re not supposed to talk. The Mistress has eyes everywhere. She’ll punish both of us.”
“I don’t understand,” Klef cried.
“Just eat,” the white boy said, “And save your strength. You’ll need it in the days and nights to come.”
Save his strength for what? It sounded forbidding. The boy left without another word. Klef was hungry. Very hungry. Even though the lukewarm meal looked completely unappetizing, he wolfed it down with the large can of water.
xxxxx
The naked boy returned several times to Klef’s cell with more food and water. He exchanged the used toilet bowl. Klef had eaten and slept … then eaten and slept again.
Finally, the white boy came and let him out of the cell.
Without a word between them, he brought him to a nearby place that appeared to be a bathing room. It wasn’t as austere as his holding cell. In fact, the room, like the hall in which he’d first arrived, appeared quite spacious and luxurious.
There were animal furs laid upon the floor, and more of those strangely erotic paintings hung on the walls of naked, native people. Savages from the dark continent. Only these scenes seemed to show tribal people who seemed to have both breasts and penises.
How bizarre, Klef thought. He had never seen anything like that. What was even more shocking was that they seemed to all be aroused and obviously erect. Their cocks looked unnaturally large — almost deformed. Like serpents. Some of the natives were depicted masturbating, others performing oral sex on each other, and more were even copulating. Klef’s own penis seemed to react to these sinful scenes — his little, white cock was as hard as a bullet.
In the center of the room, there was a huge circular bath set into the stone floor. It was filled with bubbling water. The white boy pointed to the bath. Klef quickly stepped down into the warm water to hide his shameful erection. His body registered the delight of its warmth. The warmth felt good, refreshing, and stimulating. He’d always been a very clean boy. Cleanliness is next to godliness. Being left in the dungeon-like room with no means of personal hygiene had been terrible.
The white boy gave him a bar of soap and stayed with him. Watching him.
“Did your father owe money?” Klef asked the white boy.
“Something like that,” the white boy answered dismissively.
Klef noticed the white boy was getting an erection. It seemed strange that the boy was becoming aroused looking at him. Boys weren’t supposed to be aroused by each other. It was sinful, wicked, and very unchristian. His bible studies of Leviticus had taught him that “You shall not lie with a male as with a woman; it is an abomination”. But then again, he wasn’t actually lying down (he lied to himself).
“Let me wash you,” he said and stepped down into the shallow bath with Klef.
Klef was unsure of what to do. Immediately, the boy began to fondle Klef’s hard, little boy-cock, much like the wicked Priestess had done when he’d first arrived, and like some of the painted images that hung around the room. Klef was momentarily paralysed. He had never experienced anything like this before. This was unnatural. Homosexuality was evil. It went against God’s natural laws.
But for some reason, he didn’t immediately rebuff the boy’s sexual advances. The white boy took Klef’s hand and guided it to his cock. The intent was clear. Again, Klef felt conflicted, but being alone in that terrible dark cell had made him very aware of his vulnerability. His fingers touched the white boy’s cock, and the boy held him closer.
“She’s watching us,” he whispered into Klef’s ear. “She wants you to resist me, so she can punish us both — so, just do what I do!”
“Who … who … who is she?” asked Klef
“Some say she hides her true identity as a vodou loa, the goddess of lust, Erzulie. Some say she’s Sitri, the demon of lust. Others claim she’s really Philotanus … the demon of pederasty and pedophilia … worshipped through the vice of sodomy and sexual taboos … we all know her as Beast of Boy Love!”
Klef wasn’t sure what to think, but despite his predicament, Klef felt an unexpected sense of excitement. It was wrong, but felt so right.
“See,” said the white boy, “Enjoy her gifts of boy love …”
It was completely out of character. The boy’s touch was not unpleasant as it gripped his young cock flesh, gliding up and down, in soapy stimulation. Klef closed his eyes, and it seemed to be even more pleasurable. And knowing she was watching the two of them doing a sinful act seemed to only increase his sudden enjoyment of this sinful situation.
“Aaghhh …” moaned the white boy as Klef stroked his cock eagerly, “That’s … Aarghhh … Fuck! Don’t stop! … Aaarghhh … That feels so fucking good! Rub me faster!”
As they continued to mutually masturbate, the white boy began to kiss Klef’s lips and even fondle Klef’s dirty place. The sensitivity of his virgin anus sent pleasure signals to his brain.
“Yer. Fuck! Aaghhhh! Yeah, fuck! Kiss my mouth … Finger my boy-cunt … Fuck! Don’t stop!”
Klef returned the white boy’s forbidden lust. Klef was really enjoying these new sensations. He didn’t want it to stop either. More than enjoying, he now felt incredibly horny. They both began to squirm and frot against one another with even greater exuberance.
“Aaghhhhh … The Mistress wants me … to fuck you,” said the white boy. “She wants you to resist, so she can punish you … just relax, and it will be okay.”
Klef didn’t understand what that meant, but didn’t object.
They both quickly stepped out of the bath water and lay down together on a thick fur rug. The boy pressed Klef’s shoulders down until he was lying on his back. They continued kissing passionately like two eager faggots. This time, their tongues invaded each other’s mouths. Fucking would mean committing a gravely sinful act. Sodomy. Strangely, the thought of it now sounded exciting. He liked this boy. He liked what they were doing.
“Sodomy,” cried Klef, as if registering a new level of disobedience.
“Yer. Ass fucking! I’m going to stick my cock in your fucking ass!” cried the white boy.
The white boy grinned broadly, impassioned by Klef’s eagerness to join him in sin. The boy lay on top of him, so that their wet cocks were pressed together. They rubbed themselves eagerly, tongue kissing each other as if there was no tomorrow. Their naughty fingers began to worm their way into each other’s nether-holes.
Then, the white boy pulled back, steadied himself, and began to press his cock-head against Klef’s anal flower.
“Hold still!” he grunted.
He pushed the first inch or so inside of Klef. The pain wasn’t exactly excruciating; it was more like a dull sensation. That’s when Klef began to panic … he wanted to stop.
“She’s watching us right now. Don’t stop. Aggghh … Fuck. Just … Just try and relax,” the boy said. “It will hurt for a while. It’s your first time. After that … You’ll get to fucking love it, I promise.”
Klef kept clenching, but tried his best to relax. It hurt. It was burning inside his rectum. But the white boy didn’t stop. He was now pressing his boy-cock deeper and harder into him, shamelessly fucking Klef’s virgin rectum.
”Aarghhhh … Yes! You’re so tight! Fuck! I’m going to fucking blow my load!” he grunted in his loveless effort to reach orgasm inside Klef’s aching bowels.
xxxxx
Finally, the white boy began to spasm as his cock pumped his hot semen into Klef’s guts.
“Aaaghhhh … hail the Beast of Boy Love!” he groaned.
That was when Priestess Belle appeared. She looked down at the two naked white boys, lying on the animal fur, fucking. She was dressed in a tight-fitting ensemble that showed off her elegant negroid figure. With open-toed, high-heeled shoes, black fishnet stockings, and suspenders, she looked like a black street whore.
Klef lay on his back whilst the white boy’s cock was still balls-deep in his ass. He glanced up, breathing hard. He noticed how Priestess Belle’s chest was almost completely flat and how her crotch seemed to bulge forward, unnaturally.
“Roger,” she said with a sense of annoyance, “Get off of him. Now.”
So, the white boy’s name was Roger. At least Klef knew who was fucking him. Maybe she was annoyed that he had not resisted and allowed her to punish them both?
“Yes, Mistress,” Roger cried.
Roger immediately pulled his dribbling white cock out of Klef’s ass and stood up. His cock was seeping with the remains of his semen and streaked with shit-stains from Klef’s bowels. Both boys were still out of breath and breathing hard.
“Good boy, mtumwa mweupe, Roger,” she bestowed.
First, Priestess Belle bent down on one knee and began to clean Roger’s filthy cock with her mouth, sucking his semi-erect cock, as she lovingly licked it, shit and all. The Mistress seemed unperturbed by the disgusting taste; in fact, she seemed to relish it, as if she were devouring a dining delicacy. Roger looked devilishly happy with himself.
Standing upright again, she pulled Roger towards her. She kissed his open mouth. Klef could see their tongues wriggling between each other’s lips as they kissed obscenely. Roger seemed to love her attention, and for a moment, Klef actually felt a pang of jealousy — of Roger or Priestess Belle or maybe both — he wasn’t sure.
“Stand up, white slave, and bend over,” the Mistress ordered.
Klef did as he was told. He could feel the gooey cum beginning to leak from his well-fucked anus.
“That’s it, white slave! Now, touch your fucking toes. I want my shahawa!”
Klef did it. He was still shaken from his first-ever experience of sodomy.
”Roger, you need to felch him, boy. Do it properly. But don’t you dare swallow. You hear me? The semen is mine!”
“Yes, Mistress!” he seemed to hang on her every word.
Roger knelt behind Klef and eagerly pried his ass-cheeks apart. He began to fervently lick his brown flower and then suck on the hole of his freshly stretched anus, in an attempt to suck his own semen back out of Klef’s tight asshole. Klef felt Roger’s tongue wriggling around his nether hole as it penetrated him.
“Fuck! You’re making a mess, you fucking white pansy, faggot!” cried the indignant Priestess Belle. “Stop you fucker! And get out of my way!”
With that, she literally pushed Roger aside and began felching Klef’s sore anus herself. She didn’t take long. Expertly, she got what she was after. Klef felt the Mistress’s long, nigger tongue, wriggling inside of him like a thick worm, and her powerful mouth sucking his ass-cunt. Strangely, Klef pressed back against her. Enjoying the bizarre sensation.
“Ahhh, shahawa! Shahawa!” she moaned.
Satisfied, she stood up again.
“That’s how you do it, white-faggot slaves!” she said in her self-praise, “Now it’s time, Roger, for you to give my new slave his very first golden shower.”
Klef wondered what that could mean.
“Lie down on the rug, white boy, and rub that cock of yours,” ordered Priestess Belle, “Mmmmm … mkojo … mkojo … But don’t you dare cum … unless I tell you to. Understand?”
Klef nodded.
”Yes, Mistress,” he chimed.
Klef lay back down on the animal fur before his Mistress and Roger. Roger was smiling evilly as he stroked his semi-stiff cock. Obviously, the prospect of giving Klef a golden shower was something he’d been looking forward to. Klef noticed that the conspicuous bulge in the front of the Priestess’s tight pants had seemed to have swelled even more. It was as if she’d stuffed a python or something really big down the front of her nigger crutch. He wasn’t sure what that meant.
“Open your mouth, piss slave … mkojo … mkojo … And drink the elixir of your jungle gods!”
“Fuck yer,” said Roger enthusiastically as he aimed his cock-head at Klef’s face.
Then, without any further warning, Roger began to piss over him. His hot, salty urine quickly soaked Klef’s upper body and splashed over his face.
”Open your mouth, drink the mkojo … you fucking, white, piss-faggot!” screamed the vodou witch, as she rubbed her crutch.
Klef was caught by surprise. The stench of the boy’s piss and the torrent of warm urine over his face made him close his eyes and try to turn away. Priestess Belle was laughing loudly — as if she was applauding his discomfort. Klef rubbed his stinging eyes. He could see her gripping the bulge in the front of her tight pants. Masturbating herself through the tight fabric. For a moment, Roger stopped pissing over him.
“Open your fucking mouth, or you’re both going back to your cells!” Yelled the Priestess.
Confused and conflicted, Klef did as he was told. Roger began to piss, eagerly, over Klef’s face again. The dark, yellow urine tasted salty and acrid, but Klef forced himself to keep his mouth open and swallow it, as best he could.
“That’s a good toilet slave! Drink mjoko for your shetani goddess,” said the Mistress, obviously enjoying Klef’s further wet humiliation.
Roger’s piss stream began to run out. He was rubbing his piss-wet cock, looking down on him.
“Enough, for now!” announced Priestess Belle. “Go and refill your fucking bladders. Both of you,” addressing Roger, she added, “Get cleaned up. I want you to bring him. Take him to the jungle grotto tonight. I want him to meet my Bone Girls!”
“Yes, Mistress,” replied Roger eagerly.
With that, Priestess Belle turned on her high heels and was gone.
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TUESDAY’S MIDNIGHT FABLES — “BEAUTY & THE BEAST” — CHAPTER THREE (2,442 WORDS)
Young Klef collected his thoughts. It hadn’t been that long ago, when he’d first arrived at Priestess Belle’s strange castle, that I couldn’t wait to leave. He’d initially thought it to be a horrible place. An evil and perverted place. He’d imagined its owner to be a monster. Yes, it had proved to be a place of sexual sin and ungodliness, but somehow, it had impacted him. Changed him. That didn’t mean he no longer felt the deep hopelessness and homesickness — he thought of his poor father struggling to win back the money he’d lost, so that Klef would be free of his bond. But what if his father couldn’t succeed? What if he could never leave?
Roger had brought him to a small tower room. It was a kind of library. A room filled with books and parchments. There was a narrow window, intended for archers, that looked out over the dark forest many feet below. If he were to escape, he’d have to traverse that terrain filled with god-knows-what kind of wild animals and threats. No, he was stuck. Still naked, his fingers idly examined some of the manuscripts that lay on the tall wooden shelves. Roger had said explicitly not to touch anything, that he’d be back shortly. But still, Klef was curious.
As he looked at the bizarre titles, he quickly realised that most of these publications were not about ancient wisdom, but were far more erotic, if not lewd, in nature. He felt the twitch of arousal. He brought one of the leather-bound books to the table and opened it tentatively.
The image was one of twelve naked boys. They seemed to be in the process of summoning an evil spirit, or so the accompanying text espoused. Like a spell. A boy love enchantment? But why should they want to do such a thing? Klef turned the page to find the illustrated materialization of this dark magick.
A cloud or mist, revealing a naked demonic form — a half-human, half-demonic form — with horns upon its head. Was this Erzulie, or Sitri, or Philotanus? The bizarre goat-like demon had a flaccid penis hanging between its legs, but also the breasts of a woman. What a bizarre anatomy, Klef thought. What was even stranger was that he found this concoction to be sexually exciting.
Klef eagerly turned the page to find the next image, which showed a boy mounted upon the erect penis of this creature. The demon was seated upon the upturned face of another naked boy, whose hands were firmly wrapped around his own penis, masturbating. The other naked boys danced around the copulating threesome. All erect and touching themselves. He thought about Roger’s words … ‘We all know her as the Beast of Boy Love!’ It was a shocking pornographic illustration. The young boy, mounted upon the demon’s cock, was erect and spurting his semen as the demon was in the process of sodomizing him. The boy’s expression was one of joy and pain, intermingled.
Klef knew in his heart that he should find it repulsive and offensive. But instead, he began to touch himself, rubbing the flesh of his cock, imagining it was he who was mounted upon the demon’s cock.
“What are you doing?”
It was a voice Klef didn’t recognized. Embarrassed, he snapped the book closed and turned towards the voice. There, standing in front of him, was an effeminate boy, not so dissimilar to himself. Naked, of course. Klef, though he must be another of the Priestess’s white slaves.
“You shouldn’t be here,” the boy said, “ This is the Mistress’s private library.”
“Roger brought me here,” Klef ventured.
“Oh, you’re with Roger. Does he own you?” said the boy advancing, “We’re you … masturbating?”
“Err,” Klef stuttered awkwardly, “No, I wasn’t,” he lied, “And … Nobody owns me.”
Klef thought ownership was a strange concept. However, Klef’s erect penis told a different story about his masturbatory activities.
“We’re all owned … by the Beast of Boy Love,” the boy qualified, “Now, show me what you were looking at …”
Klef reopened the leather-bound volume to the page showing the boy being sodomized. The image of the demon fucking the boy was awful, but so thrilling.
“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Asked the naked boy, but it more of a statement than an actual question.
Now, he was standing very close to Klef. The boy’s hand reached out and began to fondle Klef’s stiff cock, rubbing gently between his thumb and forefinger. He didn’t attempt to stop him. In fact, his hips automatically thrust forward into the boy’s fingers in response to them closing around his cock-flesh. The boy’s adept fingers gripped Klef’s cock and rubbed it exquisitely. Klef had held his breath until that moment … then he let out a subconscious moan.
”You like this, don’t you, dirty little fucker?” said the boy, taking Klef’s hand and guiding him to his hardening cock, “Are you one of Roger’s piss boys?”
“I don’t know what you mean? Who … who are you?” asked Klef, as he began to mutually masturbate the boy.
”Does it matter?” answered the boy as he began to press down on Klef’s shoulders, indicating that Klef should kneel between his open legs.
Klef instinctively knew what the boy wanted, and kneeling, he took the boy’s hard-on into his warm, wet, and welcoming mouth.
”Aagrhghr …” moaned the boy in response, holding the back of Klef’s head as he rocked back and forth with his hips pressed against Klef’s face.
Klef’s fingers gripped the boy’s buttocks for purchase.
”Piss drinker!” cried the boy as he began to urinate into Klef’s mouth, “Fuck! Yer! You’re mine!”
xxxxx
The door opened. It was Roger standing in the doorway. The other boy, whose cock was in Klef’s mouth, had his eyes closed. He groaned in pleasure at wasn’t aware that Roger had returned. Roger looked down at Klef on his knees. Without saying a word, he stepped forward and punched the boy in the back of the head.
”What the fuck!” cried the boy as he fell to the ground.
”He’s mine, Nathan. Get your own fucking piss boy!” shouted Roger.
Klef had no idea what was going on. Nathan lay on the ground nursing his sore head.
”Fuck you, Roger!” moaned Nathan under his breath.
”You’re quite the little cock whore,” Roger said to Klef, ”We’re late for the Beast of Boy Love. She doesn’t like to be kept waiting. We’re supposed to be in the grotto.”
xxxxx
Klef wasn’t sure what to expect.
The nigger Priestess Belle had briefly mentioned something about the “Bone Girls”. Obviously, his short stay in her perverted castle had only exposed him to certain others, like Roger. Was there where he’d find out exactly what Roger meant by the goddess of lust?
There was obviously a lot more to be discovered. It scared him, but at the same time, it secretly excited him. So, it seemed that Roger and Klef were not the only so-called “slaves” who served the deviant, vodou Priestess in her depraved and lustful activities.
Actually, the jungle grotto sounded rather exotic.
Klef easily imagined it to be something lush, vibrant, and maybe even enchanting. But at the same time, with everything he’d experience in the Mistress’s evil castle, it could be equally shocking, vile, and most likely sexually deviant.
It wasn’t long before Roger led him down a secretive corridor. It was dark for the most part. So, he followed Roger closely behind. They’d gone down some rather steep set of stone stairs. And finally they arrived at an elaborately carved doorway at the end of a dimly-lit corridor.
When Roger opened the door, inside, Klef felt the warm, wet air. He could smell the moisture, the richly earthen aromas, and the mishmash of exotic scents (some from flowers, some from something more baser). Klef immediately understood why the place was called the jungle grotto. The light inside was dim, but everywhere he looked, exotic jungle-like plants and trees were reaching upwards into the unseen roof. The aroma and moisture were as if he’d been somehow transported to a dense rainforest in the middle of the Congo. Even the subtle echoing sounds of animal life seemed to fit that of a bizarre arboretum.
Both Klef and Roger were completely naked. Just like the nigger Priestess preferred.
Inside the large jungle grotto, the darkened walls were decorated with huge frescoes of bizarre jungle-like scenes consisting of black-skinned natives engaged in the most perverse sexual activities with each other and a sprinkling of young white slaves. The natives in the frescoes all wore distinctive evil masks. Some were demonic wild boars, exotic birds, angry tigers, and even mythical creatures. Their bodies appear darkly feminine, but between their legs, they were well-endowed with penises, all noticeably erect, in a constant salute to their jungle beast, which they all seemed to worship.
“The Mistress will be waiting,” said Roger, hurrying them along.
Klef had yet to imagine what the Mistress had in mind for them. Whatever it was, he instinctively realized that it wasn’t going to be anything wholesome. After all, this was no church camp. The fact that his bladder was already beginning to feel a little uncomfortable increased his apprehension. His cock was already aroused and semi-erect. Was Priestess Belle going to insist on more of her vile, piss games, cock-sucking, felching, and sodomy? … Dare he say to himself that he really hoped so?
There was the sound of drumming. Tribal drums. Beating fast like Klef’s heart. And then, suddenly out of nowhere, the Bone Girls stepped from the thick jungle-like foliage. There were four of them. They looked kind of identical, as they were all hairless, with shaved heads. Their nigger-black faces and effeminate bodies were painted with white body paint, giving them each a day-of-the-dead skeleton-like appearance.
It scared him at first. They looked so menacing. Evil. They touched their ebony bubble-breasts and stroked their thick, black, nigger cocks. Was this a game, or did they mean them harm? Klef didn’t have to wait long, as the Bone Girls wasted no time. They grabbed both Klef and Roger, virtually lifting Klef’s legs from the ground. Klef felt their strong arms holding him firmly as they dragged him further into the jungle grotto, towards a circle of burning torches.
That’s when Klef saw the Mistress waiting. She sat cross-legged upon a raised wooden podium, set before a huge, black phallic idol, dedicated to the Beast God of the Jungle — a bizarre mixture of male and female anatomy with animalistic parts thrown in.
The ebony Bone Girls delivered them before the hermaphroditic beast. The jungle idol immediately reminded Klef of Priestess Belle, depicted as part woman and part man, with demonic horns atop its head, large, pendulum-like breasts, and a huge black phallus rising between its thighs.
The thumping drum beat seemed to inspire the sexual miscreants to press their small, bubble-breasted and wet-tipped cocks against their captives, frotting hard against them. Klef was shaking. His fear was real, but he was secretly enjoying this intense sense of sexual danger. His cock had never been harder.
”Tunaleta watumwa weupe kwa raha!” cried the Bone Girls.
Priestess Belle stood up slowly. Her lean, muscular figure was oiled, wet, and shiny. It glistened in the dull light of the grotto. In the light, Klef saw for the first time his Mistress’s cock. It was huge, thick, with a black bulbous head.
Priestess Belle stroked her evil-looking cock slowly and deliberately, as she looked hungrily down at Klef and Roger. They were nothing more than her pathetic white sex slaves.
“Arghhhhh,” groaned the Mistress in self-pleasure, “Look at my delicious cock. So big. So thick! Soon it will find its way into your bowels. Only lust can break my curse. Give me lust! More lust! My beloved Bone Girls … Give me Sodoma!”
The Bone Girls seemed to know exactly what she wanted. They had already divided their sexual spoils — two of them paired off with Roger, and the remaining two with Klef. They forced the two little, white boys down onto their knees in the soft, dark earth, before their beloved nigger priestess.
Klef and Roger were both like the white meat between the nigger sweat of their black skeletal bodies. There wasn’t anything soft and gentle about them. And it wasn’t much of a stretch of the imagination. He could see what was about to happen, with one Bone Girl in the front, smashing her black dick into Klef’s mouth, and one Bone Girl in the rear thrusting her throbbing cock into his tight white ass. Now, on their knees, they were about to be spit-roasted between the Bone Girls’ rampant cocks.
Klef felt his ass being prised open, invaded, while his mouth was immediately pressed wide open and filled with chocolate cock. He felt it filling his mouth, stretching his jawbone. His eyes watered and bulged. Then, his anus felt the sharpness of pain with the sudden and unforgiving penetration.
”Sodoma! Nipe Sodoma!” cried the aggressive Bone Girls.
“It is time to pay homage to the demon of pederasty! Nipe Sodoma! Nipe Sodoma!” groaned the unrelenting Beast.
Klef tried his best to relax. But it wasn’t easy. Their fucking motion seemed to synchronise with the sound of the devil-drum-beats … slower at first … but getting progressively faster and faster. The movement pressed their cock further and further into both Klef’s mouth and anus. Klef was almost choking on black cock, his ass felt as if it were on fire. He screamed into the cock flesh that filled his mouth.
“Enough!” Cried Priestess Belle.
As quickly as it had begun, the Bone Girls abruptly stopped. They quickly dragged Roger and Klef back to their feet.
“Remember, true beauty is found within! Within your faggot mouths! Within your white-slave, faggot-ass-pussies! Praise be to your jungle goddess! Worship your Beast!” muttered the evil nigger priestess, stroking herself in complete delirium.
“Now come forth, young one. Show me how you worship me!” groaned Priestess Belle. “Worship my cock. Worship by ass. Worship my balls. Worship the Beast of Boy Love!”
xxxxx
This could be the end, surely? Was this all part of the Mistress’s bizarre game? Or was it something else? Was this to be a rape ritual that he’d seen in that strange manuscript from her library? Or was he to become some kind of human sacrifice and disappear forever, like so many of those stories that he’d heard? Were they to be fucked, killed, and served up as the next meal to these savage, sexual cannibals?
xxxxx
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