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, Cohesion, Corruption, Young, NC, Rape, Bondage, Sadism, Snuff, WS, Substance Abuse, MC, Black Magic, Devil Worship, Demons, and Evil themes.

CREATED: 18.03.2016 / REVISITED: 23.11.2023

Twins Of Faith


What do you get the twin sister that has everything? Especially if she is smart, wealthy, and very attractive … Vivien the entrepreneur, billionaire philanthropist, devout Christian … Vivien Faith is twenty-nine years old and is the sum of her family’s grooming, with deeply religious beliefs and a sense of righteousness, tempered with a good head of business.

Though they may look alike, identical in fact, Holly is nothing like her twin. Where Vivien lives a privileged lifestyle, whilst managing her internationally renounced digital firm – Holly is a train wreck and a disgrace to her family name. She has some very strange ideas and even stranger associations … Holly the deviant harlot, Jezebel, devil worshiper… Behind her drug and alcohol-fueled illicit activities are a whole array of disturbing paraphilias.

But all this is about to change. It is their thirtieth birthday and Vivien is going to get an unexpected surprise from Holly. This surprise does not come with a bow and decorative wrapping paper. Holly gives her sister a card with the initials PSE (supposedly ‘Personalized Services Entertainment’) — it is a gift that comes with no instructions or warranty, but only the promise of something profound.


Vivien Faith had it all. She was smart, wealthy, and very attractive … Vivien an entrepreneur, billionaire philanthropist, devout Christian … At twenty-nine she was the founder of Faith Corp, a leading digital firm that she had taken public. It had helped that she had inherited immense wealth from her family, had gone to the right schools, and had grown up living in the fabulous Faith Family Estate. But her true success had come from being at the right place and the right time, building a strong reputation for herself and her firm in the boom of the digital age – a movement that had now become mainstream, and she was perfectly positioned to take advance of the global demands.


Glimpses of the early morning sunrise pressed through the plush curtains that surrounded Vivien’s four-poster bed. She stirred but was not awakened. Her dreams were filled with conflict. Repressed memories mingled with unwanted fantasies, painting an intricate web of sinfulness that she desperately craved to escape — her nightmare battle between piety and wickedness collide violently. The blurred sound of church bell rings to call the faithful; the wailed cries of zealot priests as they flagellant themselves; witches and warlocks presided over elaborate pagan rites and highly sexualized rituals; ancient chanting in long-forgotten languages and human sacrifices to the rhythmical throbbing of primitive drums.

“Please … no … please … no …” she mutters in her comatose maelstrom.

Naked figures painted like voodoo witch queens performed vulgar movements before their necromancer’s demigods. Vivien found herself again in this disturbing but recognizable nightmare. She had dreamt this dream before – sometimes the victim, sometimes the perpetrator. Every time she dreamt it, she would awaken with a vivid memory of whatever had occurred – shame and disgrace would follow with guilt and confusion.

This time she seemed to be playing the role of a victim. Bound and helpless before her goading audience, Vivien’s underclothing was cut from her, leaving her completely naked and exposed. Hands reach out for her … molesting her in her most private of places as she twisted against the restraints that hold her against her will. She screams at the painted evil skull-like faces — screaming to be left alone. The eager hands were then replaced by eager mouths and tongues — licking, sucking, and penetrating her, making her quiver involuntarily from their profane pleasuring. Again she cried out for forgiveness – has her God forsaken her? Why does God not answer her? Why did he not heed her urgent prayers?

She shook with fear and rage – awakening in a state of fright; she bolted upright in the bed. She panted deeply as if she had been running a marathon — her flimsy nightgown clanged wetly to her body, drenched through in her night sweats. The relief of her liberation was euphoric. Vivien’s breathing slowed quickly – just in time for her morning alarm to go off. She silenced her alarm and got up to begin her daily routine.

Lena, the housekeeper, would be waiting downstairs in the parlor with her breakfast of fresh fruit and wholegrain toast. Thomas, her driver, would be out the front of the porch in the spotless limousine to whisk her off to the company headquarters in the central business district. Her Executive Assistant, Candy, would greet her with her favorite flavored latte and a pressed copy of the Wall Street Journal together with all schedules for approval and would immediately attend to any changes that Ms. Faith required. This would be followed by a series of work-in-progress briefings with her immediate team members, then: back-to-back meetings; video conferences with her overseas affiliates; client presentations; and new business pitches to supervise. The day would pass very quickly and then she would be driven back to her estate for a late supper of grilled fish and new potatoes, left behind for her by Lena.

Vivien had her charities and church commitments – sometimes both were closely associated with Pastor Nathan – the minister who had, at her time of need, served the Faith family through their deepest miseries. Pastor Nathan had known her grandfather, her father, and had been a supporting figure in the ups and downs of Vivien’s life. She trusted him and felt that he would always be there for the Faith family. She had shared her deepest thoughts, worries, and feelings of guilt with him in the privacy of confession – he had always seemed to be a pillar of strength, patiently listened, and advised her without severe judgment. He had been a force for good in her complicated world, atoning her sins for which she was eternally grateful for helping her hold her life together.

It was the life, like a wall, she had built around her. Her cocoon. Did she miss her parents? Yes, she did. Was there anything she could have done? No. Their mysterious accident had never been solved. Nobody had been held accountable. Sometimes she felt so alone. Her only lifelong companion had been her twin sister – but Holly always attracted trouble. Holly was a complete train wreck. They were opposite in every way possible. She was irresponsible, completely unpredictable, and self-destructive … Holly the deviant harlot, Jezebel, and self-professed devil worshiper … Holly’s substance abuse was in sharp contrast to Vivien’s stable and purposeful life.

There was only one time of the year that they got together, their birthday … and this was always a very strained, awkward, and uncomfortable experience for Vivien. It could never be over quickly enough. When Vivien was much younger there had been many doctors and psychologists. For a while, Vivien had been very sick. However, the way she saw it, it was not her that was really sick – it was Holly who was the problem.

“Ms. Faith you have lunch today at the usual place?” asked Candy.

“Thank you, Candy. Please check the reservation,” answered Vivien not looking up from her computer. Her birthday lunch with Holly was not something she looked forward. It was a yearly obligation.

“Yes of course Ms. Faith.”


The usual place was ‘Carnivals’ which happened to be one of the most exclusive downtown restaurants. They were always fully booked and reservations were almost impossible, unless you happened to be Ms. Faith. Candy checked and of course, there was no such reservation made, as Holly would usually just turn up and make a huge scene. Luckily Candy had anticipated this and made the necessary arrangements.

Vivien recalled her tenth birthday. Their Father and Mother were still been alive in those days. The Faith Estate was alive with the party atmosphere of children, games, clowns, jugglers, and puppet shows. There had been a bouncy castle on the rear lawns and the entire gardens had been decorated in pink and orange balloons for the occasion.

Vivien had been getting ready in private when Holly decided to grace the party with her presence. It had been a humiliating scene, as a number of children and their parents had, to their shock, discovered Holly playing with herself using the statuette of Mother Mary, whilst lying completely naked in the center of the bouncy castle. After that incident, birthdays became strictly a family-only affair.

When Holly arrived at Carnivals thirty minutes late, it was no surprise to Vivien. She had already ordered her first course and was sipping on a glass of Shiraz when her miscreant twin finally turned up.

“Vivien! Vivien! My dearest! A happy birthday!” Said the loud woman who looked in many ways like Vivien’s replica.

Their physical likeness was striking, but their attitude and dress were worlds apart. Holly dressed like a cheap street hooker.

“Happy Birthday Holly. The Hors d’Oeuvres are lovely – especially the escargots a la Bourguignonne,” replied Vivien without looking up from her newspaper.

Her French diction was perfect.

“Well, how about a birthday kiss?” said Holly.

Vivien shivered involuntarily at this invitation. Her twin sister’s sexuality had been somewhat questionable even from an early age. A distant memory of the flesh on flesh crossed her mind. They had been so young, so very young, maybe eight or nine? She remembered the sexual sensations that had changed many things. It had all started so innocently – well, in her mind, she had been innocent of the consequences, and innocent of the forbidden pleasure that lurked beneath their thin juvenile veil.

Holly had asked her if she had ever kissed a boy – of course, she had not. Holly already knew that. She was always ahead in most things and sexuality was one of them. Holly claimed she had kissed boys and that it was nice to kiss them just like they had both seen in those romantic moments of movies or on television – to feel the sensation of passion and sample the mystic of intimate exchange. Holly pontificated that, if they were to become popular with the good-looking older boys, they had better be good at sex stuff. She suggested that they should practice together — on each other — practice to be ready for that romantic moment of bliss. So they would be admired, loved, and desired.

Vivien was skeptical but very naïve. Like a moth to a flame, her miscreant twin drew Vivien along this strange line of thinking. Holly was definitely not so innocent or naive. She had long discovered the joys of masturbation, first rubbing her tiny clitoris against the rough carpet and then using her fingers to penetrate herself together with other household items to achieve her little deviant delights. Orgasm was always her goal. Long delicious orgasm that made her squirt her sexual juices.

Holly’s young mind had been very busy imagining all sorts of nasty taboo fantasies involving sex with boys, sex with girls, sex with large dogs, sex with horses, sex with snakes, and sex with her twin … all of which she fully intended to fulfill one way or another. It seemed that she dreamt of a beautiful corruption, not knowing that it was called incest, but knowing exactly what it would feel like to masturbate and be masturbated by her own sister, to taste her twin in the most intimate of places and initiate her into Holly’s nasty little pre-teen sex world.

For Vivien’s part, she knew in her heart that it was wrong, but still, she felt compelled to comply with her nefarious twin’s demands. Holly was the dominant twin. With eyes tightly closed, Vivien felt it was sweet and pleasant being kissed for the first time – like many butterflies touching her face, neck, and naked breasts. It had felt warm and sensual as the imaginary boy pressed his slightly wet lips against hers and as the pressure increased she continued to pretend that the lips belonged to the boy of her dreams – soon she felt a hot tongue hovering on the edge of her perched lips, parting them and then searching her mouth, maybe with much more gusto than they did in those romantic movies.

Holly had called it “Frenching.”

She said all the boys love to do it that way. Later Holly would laugh at Vivien’s accusation of going way too far with the whole sexing thing. But long before that moment, she had allowed it. Consented to it. Been a willing participant. Vivien was as bad as her sibling — as they both lay naked together in bed, rubbing each other between the legs in the name of so-called practice for boys.

It was not that she had not enjoyed it; maybe it was precisely because she did; but what seemed to Vivien was that her twin had really got off on it all, encouraging them to do it not once, but every night since. The sensation of her sibling’s fingers brushing against her tight little vagina and anus, whilst Holly’s tongue lapped at her tiny clitoris had brought her to the precipice of a new forbidden delight. It had been a tender incestuous seduction. The suddenness of her first-ever orgasm had been a moment of great joy and great guilt … as pleasure waves rippled through her young body, she shot her hot yellow juices into the back of her sister’s mouth — it seemed that they were both squirters.

The peck on the cheek was over and Holly ordered the most expensive champagne on the menu and was slurring her words in no time. She passed her sister a small slip of paper (no bigger than a credit card).

“This year I have something different for you,” she announced proudly.

Vivien accepted the card. It looked like some sort of membership card with raised gold initials PSE.

“What is it?” she asked, only half interested.

“Well, it’s different for everyone. Just call the number on the back,” answered Holly.

“All rather cryptic?” replied Vivien.

She had no intention of calling anyone. Just then the staff of Carnivals gathered around their table and began singing “Happy Birthday”. Vivien grimaced, but put up with the attention-drawing spectacle gracefully, as every guest in the entire restaurant focused on her table.

As Vivien left the restaurant, Holly reminded her to call PSE. Vivien said she would out of politeness and they hugged briefly and parted company.

Vivien drew a sharp breath, as she was glad that their lunch was over. She looked at the card from her sister and shook her head. PSE. Personalized Services Entertainment. She placed it into the back of her wallet and instructed Thomas to take her back to the office.


It was the day after their birthday lunch that Holly called Vivien.

“So did you call?” Holly asked, her excitement obvious in her voice.

“No, not yet, I’ve been rather busy Holly. I do have a company to run you know,” answered Vivien.

“Whatever. Just do it. It’s amazing,” Vivien heard her sigh.

“All right. All right. I’ll do it,” answered Vivien after Holly’s insistence.


That Friday evening on the way back from work she picked out the small card from her wallet. It was now raining outside and Vivien mindlessly dialed the number on her mobile out of curiosity as she watched the raindrops bead and run down the car window. The phone rang once and then was answered.

“Ms. Faith. We have been expecting your call,” answered a sultry female voice. Vivien was a little caught by the surprise.

“Look, I don’t know what this is all about, but …”

“Are you ready to begin?”

“I’m not quite sure what is supposed to happen?”

“You aren’t supposed to Ms. Faith. Now are you ready?”

“Well …” she paused.

How bad could it be? On second thought, knowing Holly, this could be awful.

Vivien hesitated and then stuttered, “… I guess … I am.”

“Excellent. Then let’s begin.”

The phone call ended abruptly. She had been staring out of the car window blurred as rain continued to fall. The traffic had slowed almost to a stop and down a blind ally-way, she noticed the figure of a child, a small child – standing naked in the falling rain. What is more, the child was being pulled by several darkly dressed figures.

“Stop,” Vivien yelled at the driver.

Thomas slammed the brakes and turned around to see what the problem was.

“What Ms. Faith?” asked Thomas.

By the time Thomas had asked the question, Vivien was already out of the car door and was running back on the slippery pavement towards the alley that lay between two buildings. Thomas pressed the hazard warning lights and jumped out of the limo to the sound of car horns, angry at the unnecessary delay. Thomas ignored them as he tried not to slip as he went to catch up with his boss.

Vivien turned the corner. The dimly lit view along the alley was blocked with trash bins and other obstacles, but again, she clearly saw the naked girl being pulled down into the darker recesses of the alleyway. Vivien’s heart was racing. The girl looked like she was in distress. Something was definitely not right about this scene.

“Hey, you! Stop there!” she yelled at the dark perpetrators who seemed to be startled by her presence.

The group of three let go of the girl, who fell onto the wet pavement. As they dispersed to make for their escape, one of them dropped something behind the waste bin; and turned to retrieve it; but then thought better of this action and left it in order not to be caught.

Vivien dashed forward to help the girl. Vivien glimpsed animal masks and flowing gowns, like Halloween costumes – but her mind was focused on the injured girl on the cold, dirty concrete floor, her skin soaked in the falling rain. By this time, Thomas had caught up and the both of them gathered the girl up. Vivien covered her in her light jacket and Thomas lifted her into his arms. The perpetrators were now long gone.

“What happened?” he asked.

“Didn’t you see?” asked Vivien.


Vivien looked down beside the waste bin and retrieved a small black book that had been dropped by one of the perpetrators. She did not know if it had any significance, but this was not the time for investigation.

“Is she okay?” asked Thomas.

“Not sure – just take her back to the car. Let’s just get her out of the rain,” said Vivien.

Her voice sounded out of breath through the sheer unexpectedness of it all.

Thomas laid the girl across Vivien’s lap in the backseat.

“Shall we take her to the hospital?” asked Thomas.

The girl stirred at this remark. She seemed to be at the edge of consciousness – almost catatonic.

“No hospital. No police. They will get me,” she muttered quietly.

“What did she say?” asked Thomas.

“Take us home Thomas. Just take us home.”



Vivien called ahead and got Lena to run a hot bath and get ready some warm clothing for their unexpected guest. The young girl that lay across her lap seemed to stir in uneasy dreams, drifting in and out of consciousness. Whatever had happened or what she had prevented from happening seemed to pull at Vivien’s heartstrings – she saw herself in this poor young victim.

Vivien tried to soothe the girl, caressing her rain-soaked hair. Her large brown eyes half opened and looked up directly at Vivien. She smiled through the pain. Vivien could feel the coldness of the girl’s nakedness beneath her jacket as her immature torso shivered against Vivien’s bare legs. Wet cool skin against wet cool skin.

Vivien felt conflicted by this unintentional intimacy – was it a motherly instinct she felt to cradle and hold the young girl or something more predatory that seemed to derive pleasure from touching something so vulnerable? If it had been Holly in her place, Vivien guessed that she would have been fondling the child by now … eagerly rubbing herself against the child’s nakedness — erotically stroking the girl’s tiny aureolas to bring blood to her nipples; then sticking her long bony fingers into the girl’s gash; maybe forcing the girl face down upon her own sexually charged cunt. Vivien shook herself from these obscene thoughts. She was nothing like her sister Holly.

“What is your name?” asked Vivien gently.

“April,” whispered the demur girl as she drifted off again, “Don’t let them get me … please …”

“Who were they?” asked Vivien.

“Bad people …” the girl’s voice was nothing more than a fading whisper.

“You’re safe now.”

Vivien swallowed trying to trust in her own words and trying not to allow thoughts of that monster, Holly, to interfere with the goodness that the young girl needed so desperately.


After they arrived at the house, Thomas helped to carry April upstairs to the guest room. Lena had run a hot bath, laid out fresh white towels, and a short matching robe. April held onto Vivien tightly still in a state of shock – only trusting her to take care of her.

“It’s okay. You’re safe here. You are among friends,” reassured Vivien, “Now, Let’s get you cleaned up. We can talk about everything … when you are ready.”

April nodded appreciatively. Vivien told Thomas and Lena that she would be able to manage things from there.

Alone together, Vivien helped April into the warm soothing bathwater. She smiled and seemed relieved to be with Vivien alone. Vivien could see for the first time that the scrawny girl had multiple bruises and contusions around her thin wrists and ankles and looked as if she had been bound painfully. She wondered what kind of monsters could have done such things to her as her mind skipped back to the moment in the ally. It did not take much to imagine the girl bound naked before those perpetrators dressed in evil-looking animal masks and long dark robes as part of some profane sexual rite to an even darker, more sinister god or goddess.

Her mind skipped backward in time through her own strange experiences with her sister Holly — where Holly had insisted that the pair of them must pray naked before God Almighty. Holly had read in the Bible, like Adam and Eve in the Garden of Eden, that there was no shame in nudity — she added that their nakedness was a sign of their purity, innocence, and sinlessness. Vivien like always had gone along with the wickedness of her twin.

She said that God loved to see them perform sacred acts together — she insisted that it would be a holy act for them to masturbate one another with their deceased mother’s crucifix. Even at this early age, Vivien had found that thought repugnant in its blasphemy. But Holly insisted and the crucifix fucking had brought them both to a power orgasm as they pressed the sacred image of Christ their Savior against their excited clits.

As their nocturnal games had become increasingly debauched, it was not too long before the true nature of Holly’s little charade was revealed. In fact, her sensual celebration was that of the summer solstice of the ancient Wiccan; a depraved pagan ritual dedicated to the carnal fulfillment of her taboo sexual desires – these were in fact her first forays into the worship of the Devil.

Vivien felt flushed in the face at the depravity of her disturbing memories. She quickly stepped away from the guest bathroom not wishing to be stirred by the young girl’s arousing nudity – her vulnerability was almost too much for Vivien to take. She reminded herself that she was not like Holly. She took deep breaths and waited quietly for April to finish bathing.

She took a moment to retrieve the odd-looking book that had been left behind by one of the perpetrators. It was only slightly water-damaged and as Vivien opened the pages she was confronted with a bizarre and perverse manifesto. Where are these medieval depictions of Christian hell? The naked punched by demons? On closer inspection, Vivien realized that these were in fact sexualized illustrations of young children being fucked by what appeared to be animal-headed demons.

The words were all in what she could only imagine to be Latin text – but even without being able to read a single word, the disgusting drawings seemed to tell the narrative. All the demons were drawn with exaggerated sexual organs – male demons with enormous phallic appendages and open anuses; female demons with over-sized clitorises, gaping vaginas, and huge phallic nipples; and then there were other demons that seemed hermaphroditic in the sexual configurations – all hell-bent on the rape, torture, and murder of the naked young children.

Vivien gasped as she realized her fingers were rubbing herself through her soaked panties as she had been looking at the evil book. Taking pleasure from something profoundly evil was beyond her. She wanted to pray for forgiveness.

“Oh God, what’s wrong with me.”

As April emerged from the bathroom Vivien snapped the book shut and hid it behind her back.

“Did you say something?” asked the young voice.

April stood completely naked in the doorway. Vivien could not help but look her up and down lustily. Vivien felt a perverted spasm in her cunt. April smiled at Vivien – she seemed very comfortable despite her own nudity. Vivien pretended that seeing April naked had no effect on her – that it was just two girls together and there was nothing to be concerned about. But that was definitely not the truth.

“You must be hungry and thirsty,” said Vivien offering her a freshly made sandwich and long glass of iced tea that had been prepared by the housekeeper. Vivien offered the young girl the food and drink. April accepted them both. She munched heartily on the sandwich and took big gulps of iced tea.

“April my name is Vivien. Vivien Faith. This is my house. I hope you feel comfortable.”

April nodded appreciatively between big bites of sandwiches.

“I know you have been through something terrible, but can you talk about it? Can you explain what happened to you?” Vivien asked as her eyes guiltily roamed over the girl’s nubile nakedness.

The trembling in her voice seemed not to be noticed – or if it did, the girl asked nothing about it.

“They are bad people. They wanted to hurt me,” April replied in a mousey little voice.

“Why would they want to do that?”

“They said it was God’s will,” she added.

“God’s will?”

“These are bad people who worship a bad god.”

Vivien flushed again recalling her own pre-teen experiences brought about because of her sibling’s misguided devotion to the sex demons that she professed to be the true gods. She felt a sharp tingling deep in her groin – the twin-sex demon that had both man and female anatomies and the serpents that entwined the demon’s genitalia. The Goat of Mendes as she knew it now – though at the time she had no idea about what it represented.

“Bad gods or demons?” Vivien prompted.

She felt Holly rising inside of her. Holly wanted this delicious morsel – an exquisite offering at the Altar of Moloch, a sacrifice to the blood-thirty cannibal demon. She could hear Holly praying to her favorite sex demons as she masturbated with sacred objects.

“Yes! Demons! Yes! They made me lick their girl parts and make them hot and wet. Then they stuck their long fingers in me … in my puss-puss and my bum-hole. They made me pee in their mouths and over their faces …”

Vivien swallowed hard at these unbelievable and inconceivable acts of wickedness. She looked at the empty glass of iced tea and remembered how her twisted sister had loved to play pee-pee games. Holly loved bath time. They secretly knew it as ‘piss time’. Bathing alone together always turned into golden showers and the recycling of the Housekeeper’s ice tea – she recalled that her perverted sister called it their “Holy Piss Water”. They both quickly became accustomed to it, loving the salty taste and smell of urea over their naked bodies … as it seemed to have a strong effect on both of their libidos, triggering long and powerful orgasms. Most nights their bed sheets were left damp or even completely drenched; Holly would encourage Vivien to “Wet the bed for Satan,” and as happily drank each other’s pee. Both sisters squirted uncontrollably upon the onset of their mutual orgasms.

Vivien was now aroused beyond the point of return by these errant thoughts and struggled to ignore the powerful urges she felt from within.

“You licked their cunts?” Vivien affirmed the language that she encouraged April to use.

“Yes … I licked their cunts,” answered April sheepishly.

Vivien smiled at April’s response, encouraging her to open up and tell her more.

“And they drank your hot salty piss?”

“Yes, they drank all my hot salt piss. Sometimes the bad people would encourage me to do sex stuff with the other young ones while they prayed to their bad gods.”

“The demons?”

“Yes. The demons.”

“What things did you do to the other children?”

“The bad people showed us movies of what they wanted us to do then they made me wear a penis-thing around my waist … it was long and black … and they made me stick it in the other girls’ cunts and into the small boys’ bottoms. They cried and screamed. But they made me do it – I had no choice. They made me do to them too.”

“It was a dildo.”

“Yes, I think they called it a dildo. They liked having the long black dildo in them while they lay across the altar and the other bad people prayed to the bad god.”

“Was it the devil?”

“Yes, I heard them call it the Devil sometimes … they had other names too … Satan, Lucifer, the Dark Angel …”

“Where were your parents?”

“My Mother was one of them. I was born among them. From as young as I can remember I have been with them.”

“Did you ever do these sex things with your Mother?”

“Yes, she was always doing sex things with me and my little brother. She made me do things with him and her … nasty bad things … until he died. I miss him.”

“Oh my! Your brother died?”

“They killed him. Mommy said it was a divine thing. A sacrifice to the Devil.”

Vivien was deeply shocked but even more aroused by the thought of human sacrifice – the thought of these evil women giving birth to children and raising them specifically for the ritual purpose of human sacrifice. She wanted to frig herself so badly.

“Why did they want to hurt you?”

“I wanted to run away – but they caught me. The first time they punished me by tying me up and beating me. Then I ran away again. Now they are hunting for me. They have ‘followers’ everywhere … in the police … in the hospitals … that’s why you must not take me there, as they will be looking out for me – to take me back and I will end up dead and eaten by the bad people like my little brother.”

“You must be exhausted,” said Vivien, helping April into the guest bed.

“Will you stay with me? I feel afraid on my own.”

“Err … okay,” assured Vivien.

She hoped that April would not see her trembling as she secretly craved the young girl’s naked body. She pulled the bed sheet over April and lay on top of the blankets as she curled up next to Vivien.

“Can you lay next to me?” the little girl asked.

“Well … I guess so …” replied Vivien uneasily.

“Please take off your clothes … its nice to be naked together … skin against skin … we don’t have to do what the bad people like … unless you really want to?”

Vivien was shocked at the girl’s forwardness but was too excited to think clearly. Maybe in a world where children had been groomed from an early age to expect to have perverted sex with their parents and other adults, this would not be so unusual, she thought to herself – but still … this was no excuse for the way she felt. Still, she removed her clothes as the young girl drew back the bedding and invited Vivien between her open legs.

“That iced tea was delicious … but it filled my bladder … may I quickly go to the bathroom?”

“No young one … all this talk about peeing makes me very thirsty.”

“You’d like to pee in your mouth?” answered April excitedly, “Pee over your tits and cunt? Can you pee in my mouth too?”

“Yes, young one … if you want me to? We can be just like the DEVIL WORSHIPING people together … if that’s what you want?”

“Can you finger fuck me soon … I really need to cum!”

“Baby, I want to eat your hot little cunt so badly!”

“Lick me and make me cum … Vivien … Make me cum like the Devil worshipers – piss all over me … please … please …”

Vivien felt delirious.

She knew these familiar feelings – they were brought on by the wickedness of her unholy twin. All this while, her guilt had been building, only to find that it was this young urchin who seemed hell-bent on her corruption. Holly was between her thighs making her cunt itchy for a fingering. How to resist it? God! She wanted desperately to walk away from this … but couldn’t, as her hands traced the shape of the young girl’s legs, from the puffy little soles of her tiny feet, over her scratched-up knees and down between her impossibly thin little thighs.

Her fingers spread across the girl’s tiny cunt and parted her immature labia. Vivien’s face slipped down further between April’s open gash. The hunger for the taste of young hairless cunt was unbearable as was the thirst for the pre-teen’s hot salty piss. Holly’s holy piss water. Vivien lapped at the girl, letting her tongue slip inside the narrowness and then upwards around her small sensitive bump.

“Aghhhhhhhh …” groaned little April as she pressed down upon her bloated little bladder, sending a hot shower of crystal sparkles jetting from her urethra.

Vivien recoiled slightly but then dived back in. She had forgotten the taste of piss. It had been such a long time. Delicious girl piss. Not that April’s pee tasted anything like Holly’s or her own pee her for that matter – it was much more watery, almost sweet on her tongue. She gulped eagerly at the urine fountain that drenched her face, hair, and shoulders as young April pressed her hips higher and brought her urgent cunt against Vivien’s lips desperate to reach her first orgasm for the night.

“Make me cum … Aghhhhhhhhh … Make me cum …” she bleated.

Vivien sucked her baby-sized clit and jammed her forefinger inside the girl’s tight cunt and her thumb against the flower of her anus. April wriggled in pleasure pressing both forefinger and thumb inside her as she gushed more juices and reached her pre-teen climax.

April panted uncontrollably. Her smile was obvious. Bathing in a glorious cum. But, as soon as April’s legs fell back upon the bed sheets, Vivien sat back, then stood up over her. She looked down – dominantly. It was now her turn. Holly would have been very proud of her – maybe Holly would have taken her pleasure first … but now the waiting was over, her unwashed cunt and ass sank down over April’s narrow chest until she pressed herself against April’s open mouth.

Vivien put her hand behind the child’s head and thrust her sweaty cunt against her tiny lips – rubbing herself back and forth as she groaned unabated. She wanted to pray to the Devil for this wicked gift of piss-drenched corruption in the name of the evil horned god of lesbian pedophilia. She gasped and pissed over April’s face, hot stinking adult piss – yellow, heady and strong. She wanted to drown her it or suffocate the young one against her own hairless mons. As the piss flow slowed, she sort the girl’s tongue – she needed it directly on her clit as her orgasm began to build. She need to cum like Holly’s screaming, squirting orgasms – so sordid, so perverted, and so incestuous only demons would dare.


The morning light found Vivien stirring in the guest bed. She had awakened to a massive headache and found that young April was not in the bed next to her. She donned a dressing gown quickly and ran downstairs. April was nowhere to be seen. She checked every room including the veranda. Nothing. As it was a Saturday morning, Thomas would not be around so early. She yelled out to Lena but there was no answer from the housekeeper.

It was in the kitchen that she noticed a trail of bloody marks leading towards or from the cellar. Vivien was panicked. Had someone hurt April? Had she put up a fight and been wounded?

She opened the cellar door and switched on the lights – as she neared the bottom of the cellar stairs she noticed the strong smell of sex, urea, and worse … blood, semen, and other indistinguishable aromas. The cellar had been transformed. There were black candles burned to stubs of molten wax scattered everywhere. Pentagrams and black magic sigils had been painted onto the walls. A makeshift altar had been erected and from the looks of things, someone or something had died a violent death from the volume of blood that had been left behind.

Across the altar were scattered dozens of Polaroid photos of whatever had transpired. By the looks of things, the participants had started out in animal masks and long black gowns but as the proceedings had escalated, Vivien could see that they were all naked women – some older, some very young (their identities obscured by their masks), all seemed to be embroiled in what she could only imagine to be a Satanic cult orgy. She could see specific images of a girl that looked a lot like April, bound and gagged; and residing over the rape ritual was a woman that looked remarkable like her sister, Holly?

Ring. Ring.

Her head hurt so much. What had happened here?

Ring. Ring.

The doorbell chimed persistently. The housekeeper would usually answer the door, but for some reason, she did not. Vivien walked back up the stairs quickly, making sure to close the cellar door behind her.

Ring. Ring.

She quickly dragged a wet cloth over the bloody marks (throwing it under the sink cabinet) and then made her way to the hallway. From there she could see two distorted figures through the pebble-patterned glass. She pulled her dressing gown tighter and opened the door.

Ring. Ring.

“Good morning Ms. Faith?” said one of the two smartly dressed women.

They looked all business.


“Sorry to disturb you so early on a Saturday morning. I am Sergeant Walters and this is Sergeant Doubleday from the downtown precinct. We are looking for a runaway. A young girl about twelve years old.”

“A girl?” asked Vivien trying to sound surprised.

They produced a tatty black and white photograph of a girl that looked like April.

“Her name is April South. She went missing yesterday evening and we believe she could be in this vicinity.”

“A runaway, you say?” they nodded in synchronicity, “Sorry, I cannot help you,” answer Vivien.

“May we come in Ms. Faith?” answered Sergeant Walters.

Her head was throbbing.

She remembered the bloody mess, the photos spread all over the black-clothed altar in her cellar, and connecting the dots, she could see how things may appear – they may think she had something to do with the perpetrators from the night before. She also thought about what April had said about the police …

“They have ‘followers’ everywhere.”

“Look, I was out rather late last night and have a terrible hangover. Can we do this some other time maybe?”

The woman did not look happy with her answer but seemed reluctant to push further.

“Here’s my card Ms. Faith. Call us if you see or hear anything,” added Sergeant Doubleday. Vivien tentatively took the card.



With the exit of her unwanted visitors, Vivien collected all the photos, putting them carefully into a large manila envelope and stuffing them into her bag. She tried to call her driver, Thomas, but got no answer. She called Candy and similarly, the phone just rang out. Finally, she reluctantly called Holly. The phone rang for what seemed like ages until it was answered.

“Hello,” said the voice on the other end of the line.

It was not Holly’s voice. Vivien said nothing. She just held her own breath.

“Hello,” said the unfamiliar voice.

Then the line went dead.

Vivien grabbed her jacket and bag and ran out to the garage. She climbed into her weekend car, the small sports coupe, and backed out of the garage. The wheels span and the gravel sprayed left and right as she sped off in the direction of Holly’s downtown apartment.

She drove like the Devil as she thought about the strangeness of the past twelve hours – ever since that call to the PSE …

“Excellent. Then let’s begin.”

It seemed such a coincidence, but then again, the events that led to her having sex with a twelve-year-old runaway girl who had supposedly escaped from a coven of satanic sex-starved witches seemed just as preposterous. She pulled over and called the number on the PSE card, but nobody answered. Strange, they seemed so efficient the night before.

She was about to drive off again when her mobile rang.

“Ms. Faith, it’s Lena.”

“Oh, hello Lena, I was looking for you this morning.”

“Sorry, I was out getting groceries this morning. Look, something has happened and the police are here. They had a search warrant and were going through the house. I tried to call earlier but the line was busy … they seem to think there is something untoward here – something about a missing girl and occult stuff. They found some incriminating black book and the cellar looks like we had a Halloween party down there. Do you know what’s going on?”

“Sorry Lena, I don’t really know anything?”

“They want you to come down to the precinct – doesn’t sound good. What should I tell them if they ask?”

“Get Candy to call me urgently.”

“Yes, Ms. Faith.”

Vivien looked at the large envelope filled with incriminating photos. She got out the car and quickly disposed of them by dumping them into the nearest public trash bin.


Vivien was on the way to Holly’s apartment when her phone rang again. This time it was Holly.

“They’re after me! They’re after me!’ she screamed.

“What do you mean? What is this? What have you done his time Holly?”

“It’s the PSE … it’s the fucking PSE … they did this … they’ve fucked us over …”

“The police are looking for me. What have you done Holly?”

Suddenly the phone line went dead. Vivien tried to call back but there was no dial tone – her phone just purred without connection.

When she arrived at Holly’s apartment, the door was unlocked, and looked as if it had been kicked in from the outside. The living room was trashed with articles of clothing and scattered papers spread across the floor among various items of overturned furniture. The kitchen counters were littered with spent needles, half empty bottles of booze, and the entire apartment stank of rancid sex and marijuana. It was an orgy of evidence. The police would have a field day here. She could hear the sounds of an almighty struggle – Vivien hid behind the door.

“No! No! … Let me go!” shouted a voice behind the closed door that sounded a lot like Holly’s.

The door burst open. Vivien pulled back further, hoping she would not be noticed. Several black-robed women emerged from the bedroom. Two of them holding a figure that appeared drugged and hung unconsciously between them. Was it Holly? Had they abducted her twin? Vivien was about to confront them when everything went completely black.


Vivien awoke to the sinister sound of pagan chanting accompanied by pulsating resonance of tribal drumming. Her eyes were slowly able to focus on the low firelight. Red and amber flickers illuminated vulgar dancing figures as they came across her field of view. A group of leaping, swirling, cavorting young females, all completely naked besides faun-like masks complete with pointed horns and tails — some even pranced agilely on goat-like legs while other masked females gathered around crying out their sordid encouragement.

The medieval fires burned bright enough for Vivien to make out phallic statues of devilish beings, all rampant and highly sexualized. Even in the short time that Vivien had awakened the drum rhythm seemed to have hastened, urging the performers to movements dramatically more obscene and overtly sexual – each dancer rubbing a V-shaped dildo-like stick against their vaginal opening. The onlookers of all ages screamed enthusiastically as the dancers started to masturbate in unison, plunging the dildos in and out while they continued their sordid flit to the erotic tempo.

In the corner of her eye, she caught sight of young little April. The girl’s head lulled limply against her bony flat chest in a state of unconsciousness; her body bound and stretched across x-shaped uprights. Vivien tried to move, she wanted to help her but found she was also similarly restrained. The bindings were strong and had no give whatsoever. They were not the only ones bound to x-shaped uprights – other young girls and even boys hung with their crass nakedness, like a ritual ornamentation for the enjoyment of the evil gathering. Older witches were milking some of the young boys of their semen. Fingers and tongues teased the boys first to erection and then into ejaculating their sperm that the witches collected in a large silver chalice.

The dancers continued with carnal gusto, plunging one length of their V-shaped dildos up of their sopping wet cunts. The dancers rotated, in turn, to perform before each of the five demonic gods that stood on the periphery of their inner circle. Each dancer urinated and defecated as they performed before their chosen idols – their urine and feces collected in large golden bowls at the base of each idol’s erect phallus. Once their offering was made, the dancers took turns on the hands and knees in homage, while other witches brought forth large black-haired dogs – their excited pink wick-like knots fully erect and dripping as they were led to mount the kneeling dancers from the rear.

Dog and dancer fornicated wildly before their demonic gods – screaming profanities as they reached orgasm after orgasm for the glory of their malignant spirits. Once done, they re-inserted their V-shaped dildos into their cunts that now dripped with the slime of spent dog semen – this time, as they danced, they pumped their hips back and forth shaking their cock-like protrusions in some kind of hermaphroditic parade. The voyeuristic crowd was almost frenzied, some witches jumped before the dancers goading them to fuck them hard in their wet cunts.

Despite her best efforts, the unfolding ritualistic scene fueled Vivien’s unwanted sexual hunger to a fever pitch. Only a day ago this very experience would have horrified her, revolted her, shocked her to her pious core. What had happened to Vivien to turn herself inside out – she was thinking and acting like her aberrant sister. Where the devil was her sister? She remembered the abduction. She had heard her sister putting up a fight at her apartment. She had seen the body slumped and unconscious. Vivien began to struggle against her bindings.

She wanted to escape this depraved place – this was not like her – this was Holly’s debauched world, not hers. By coincidence, as Vivien struggled against her confinement, April began to stir too. Vivien eyed her young lover’s body and their eyes met lustily. Thoughts of their perverted lovemaking were fresh in her mind. Vivien felt lost in these new and bizarre sensations. She was conflicted by all she could see and hear. Shame and guilt were overcome by depraved lust and the desire to join in with the evil pagan witches.

One of the dancers noticed Vivien was now conscious and cried out to the other witches. The coven followed her call and turned their focus towards Vivien as her naked body hung exposed and in full view. The beat seemed to take a temporary reprieve as a woman appeared from between the excited crowd of voyeuristic witches that parted to allow her to advance. She wore a hideous Baphomet mask and agilely stepped forward on goat-hoofed legs.

As she walked, her lean and sensual physique caught Vivien’s eye – her hips swayed hypnotically left and right. Unlike the others, she wore a thin black strip of loincloth that covered her sex.

“Priestess Holly – you have returned to us once again,” said the Baphomet woman.

‘I am not Holly. I am Vivien … Vivien Faith …” said stuttered.

“Vivien is only your alter-ego Priestess Holly – the guise you use between the great rituals of lust and blood,” corrected the Baphomet woman.


“Yes, Priestess Holly. Your alter ego. To protect your true identity … your sacred identity as the leader of our coven … Priestess Holly who must perform the ritual sacrifice tonight as we all take our darkest of pleasures!”

“I don’t know what you are talking about. I am Vivien Faith. My twin sister is whom you seek. I am not she.”

“You are one of the same. You always have been. Look into yourself. See the contraction in your ways. See your true desires. The card. The call. All to break the self-imposed bewitchment.”

“This is crazy?”

Vivien blinked heavily. She suddenly found herself staring into an ornate oval mirror carved with an epic battle between tortured angels and scowling demons. The moment felt like a pure theatrical illusion. She felt the coolness around her. She saw a pretty face reflected there. Her light tan-colored Tory Burch pantsuit showed that she was slim and elegant. Her make-up was light. Her Chanel No. 5 smelt of elegance and femininity. Her hair was tied up in a neat bun – everything about her said beauty unstated, conservatism. She was Vivien Faith the entrepreneur, billionaire philanthropist, devout Christian… There was a brightness about her … in her eyes … Vivien saw her reflection. She felt a steamy heat rise around her.

She saw a pretty face reflected there. She was completely naked. Her face was flushed, her nipples aroused to intense hardness and her hairless vagina oozed with sticky lubricants, making her feel itchy and horny. Her make-up was overtly heavy, almost Goth. She smelt sleazy, unclean, amoral, and animalistic.

Her hair fell loosely around her shoulders. An inverted crucifix, crusted in dried blood, hung heavily against her sweaty chest. She was Holly Faith the deviant harlot, the Jezebel, devil worshiper … There was darkness about her … in her eyes … She saw that the serpent had shed its skin again … she was no longer, could no longer be the pathetic Vivien … Vivien was subsumed … Vivien was discarded … she was now Priestess Holly the Devil’s most perverted servant.

She was staring back at herself through Holly’s eyes. She now saw herself as a ten-year-old … a naked miscreant child with the same wickedness and sexual intent. It was her birthday party and she was wantonly masturbating herself, naked before all her stupid rich-fuck friends of her parents — the look of shock on their faces was sublime; her mind jumped across the twenty years since that moment – the seductions, the sex, the debauchery, the perversions … all so delicious. She was Holly Faith. Vivien was just a fading memory.

“Look now at your young lover – she hungers for the taste of your juicy cunt.”

The Baphomet woman pointed towards April. Holly could not help but look enamored at the young girl, who now stood masturbating just beside the Baphomet woman. April was vigorously rubbing her bald cunt, grinned amorously, and licked her plump lips.

“She needs you … we all need you … the Dark Gods need you!”

“I understand … Thank you, Nadia,” affirmed Holly, recognizing her loyal follower.

Holly’s body had begun to shake with extreme arousal.

“It is time Priestess,” said Nadia.

As two young women cut away the bindings from Holly’s wrists and ankles. Holly fell forward only to be caught by the same two young women as she regained her balance. She knew them instantly as Sergeant Walters and Sergeant Doubleday. It took her a moment to regain her balance as she rubbed the soreness from her unbound wrists.

The pagan beat that had stalled suddenly began to pick up fiercely as the Baphomet woman tore away her loincloth to reveal her true gender identity and her huge transsexualised cock that pointed up angrily at Vivien.

“The sacrifice Priestess! The coven demands the sacrifice!”

“Sacrifice!” cried the anxious witches.

Holly gasped as if breathing for the first time. She stepped forward with renewed confidence. She knew who she was and what we wanted. The Devil was her lover. Evil was her desire. She reached out and stroked the transsexual witch, stroking her rigid cock, wanting to impale herself upon it – to feel it deep in her overheated itchy cunt. She wanted to be fucked in every hole. But, first, the sacrifice had to be made.

“Where is the bone knife?”

“Sacrifice!” howled the eager bloodthirsty witches.

They all panting with sexual abandon as they brought forward the white bone scabbard that gleamed in the firelight; together with the cooing baby wrapped in swaddling clothes – just like the fucking baby Jesus.

“Tonight we shall spill the blood of an innocent. We shall be blood sisters again. Smear our selves in it. Share in the flesh of it!”

“Sacrifice! Sacrifice! Sacrifice!”

Was it the awakening that she loved — each and every time — to open one’s eyes and see the world anew again? Or was it the whole process of playing hide-and-seek with herself? How many times over the years has this happened? The ornate mirror’s reflection held more than just what she saw — a sordid secret of the priestesses of Satan … a time-honored tradition of good versus evil, where evil must always triumph. Her Demonic gods must prevail. It was certainly not the first or would not be the last.


It was getting late. The downtown shoppers were beginning to thin out. There were a few party-goers making their way between drinking venues – their voices filled with alcohol-fueled laughter that echoed against empty buildings. The wind had picked up and the temperature had dropped dramatically.

A slick black limousine pulled up against the sidewalk and a well-dressed woman, accompanied by a pretty young girl, no older than twelve, stepped out onto the pavement. The driver holding the door for them. The woman answered a call to her mobile.

“Ah, Pastor Nathan, thank you for returning my call. Yes, I needed to let you know that this year’s donations from the Faith Family Trust will be channeled into a shelter for homeless street children in the downtown area. Yes, I am certain about this. My colleague Nadia Lincoln will be in charge of this. She will contact you shortly to make arrangements. No, Vivien is away at the moment, she has left me in charge. Yes me … Pastor. Thank you for your kind assistance. God bless you …”

With her message complete she hung up and turned to the impatient child at her side.

“Can I please Priestess Holly? Can I pick the one?”

“Okay, April. And what did I tell you – in public, you must always call me mummy.”

“Yes, Mummy. I just love the hunt don’t you, Mummy?” answered the young girl rhetorically in a mocking tone.

They had been on the sidewalk for not even five minutes when April pointed in the direction of a small figure less than fifty feet away. The couple walked slowly, deliberately, and quietly, looking around to make sure that no one was in earshot or able to see them. They then approached a lone homeless child who sat on the pavement against a low wall. She was dressed in ragged filthy clothing and her bare knees were pulled up tightly against her chest — shivering as the icy wind blew, channeled between the tall rectilinear buildings. The homeless child did not even notice April and her mummy, Holly, approach until they were almost on top of her.

“Hey, you,” said Holly in an unnaturally kind tone.

Holly wanted to kick the child hard, but instead, she put on her best smile.

“Are you hungry? Thirsty? Cold?”

The child looked up forlorn, exhausted, and malnourished – obviously destitute and discarded by society. It was a look that made Holly’s underwear-less cunt drip beneath her short dress. She would not be missed by anyone – alone – she was a gift from the Devil.

The dirty-faced little homeless girl looked up with dull eyes at April dressed in her ridiculously expensive Catimini clothing, her hair perfectly arranged, and her rosy little cheeks. The young girl was surely very hungry. It would be inevitable. Yes, Holly knew that seeing another child would always inspire some level of trust in this situation. She would believe them to be mother and daughter – two good Samaritans looking to help the helpless. The homeless child would never suspect that she was to be lured into a trap, to be sexually abused, raped for demonic pleasure, and probably killed and eaten by Holly’s merry band of evil witches – just for the sake of it.

“Yes, Miss,” chirped the little girl

A glimmer of hope in her eye.

“Then come with us, darling. Our car is warm. We have plenty of delicious food inside for you.”

The girl reached and was pulled up with the help of Holly’s gloved hand. She had taken the bait. Yes, sweet deviant pleasures would soon follow. Priestess Holly pushed the girl hard into the back of the limo. Climbing inside she quickly closed the heavily tinted door behind her. There would be no witnesses; no escape; and no quarter would be given. Her cunt was already drenched, hungry with pedophile lust for the blood of the innocent.

The end? Maybe, maybe not? Should evil and debauchery be triumphant? Shouldn’t there be a reckoning? Whatever happened to justice? How could the benevolent God stand by and let such wickedness prevail? Like to hear more? Why do you write to me and tell me what should happen next …




If you have enjoyed this story or would like to offer praise to the author, who is always hungry for encouragement and affirmation, please email xpanther2019@protonmail.com