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, Incest, Masturbation, Corruption, Young, WS, Coercion, NC, Blasphemy, Rituals, Implied Snuff, Occult.

AUTHORS NOTES: The basis of this story comes from a 2005 movie called “Match Point” that stars Scarlett Johansson. Though I really hated this movie, I saw the potential to use the basic premise of ‘better to be lucky than good’ as the theme for this story. I unashamedly borrow from this and corrupt its content to make the characters more twisted and perverse… as usual. Hope you enjoy it.

CREATED: 10.12.2017 / REVISITED: 21.10.2023

X — Wheel Of Fortune


The Wheel of Fortune is one of the few cards in the traditional tarot deck which doesn’t include a human figure. This is fitting because it is about things outside human control. Depending on one’s beliefs this could be seen as the Power of God or the Devil, the Law of Karma, or just simple fate. This card serves as a reminder that although many of us would like to believe we are in total control of our lives, forces acting upon us are beyond our influence and understanding. When this card turns up it can be a powerful sign that things are beginning to turn in our favor. The wheel concept is revealing because it suggests underlying cycles and patterns to these forces that influence us.

Playful lovemaking in the ocean, in the pool, or on the fine white sand banks of the beach. Your bodies slip and slide from the salaciously, luxuriously beach oil you have earlier massaged over your bodies. You play Mermaids, chasing each other, Head-to-Toe…


As Lefty Gomez said, “Better to be lucky than good.”

Chris Carter is an ex-tennis pro cum instructor looking for work in London. Whilst from modest means, Chris is not one to look a gift horse in the mouth. He never really saw himself as superstar tennis material – thinking he was always more lucky than talented. As luck would have it, his fate was about to change. Whilst in the employment of an elite tennis club, he met Wilson Summer, a wealthy, good-looking, playboy who isn’t particularly talented in tennis, or in anything else. His family has money, lots of it. He befriends Chris and introduces him to his friends and family.

Soon the two become close as Chris gets involved with the Summer family. Wilson’s sister, Cleo, takes an instant liking to Chris and the ever-scheming Chris can see that their ‘potential’ relationship could open up many doors for him to get out of his low-paying tennis coaching gig and into the more lucrative family business of the Summers. Even Mr. and Mrs. Summer seem to be very fond of Chris and quickly approve of his involvement with their only daughter.

Enter, Lydia Mink. She is a male-to-female transgender, who has been dating Wilson for about six months (against his parent’s approval). Upon a chance introduction to Chris, their mutual attraction spells trouble for his convenient romance with Cleo and possibly upsetting for the executive position that this relationship could secure. As Chris and Lydia are drawn together, other more sinister and bizarre facts begin to emerge within the family and the family business of the Summers.

At the end of the day, will Chris be seduced by the lust of the high society and the financial comforts that accompany the lifestyle; or by the lust of an unexpected lover that offers exactly what he had always fantasized about? Will he try to get the best of both? When will his luck run out?


The thing about life is its unpredictability.

Chris Carter was a lucky guy. He had always been lucky. A pragmatic man in his early thirties, maybe past his prime as a tennis professional, he resided to the fact that it was better to coach than play. A move that seemed a little mundane, certainly a backward step as the money was not great – but the regularity made up for the uncertainty of the tennis superstar circuit. He took up the resident position as the tennis coach at an elite country club called “The Country Club” and got himself a less-than-modest apartment in Charlton, South East London (with a great view of the neighboring municipal car park).

It was by chance that Chris was introduced to Wilson Summer. Wilson, who was also in his early thirties, was the son of an extremely wealthy banker. Summer & Summer was a merchant bank, that specialized in the consulting of mergers, acquisitions, and aggressive takeovers. Wilson however could not be less interested in the family business side of things. Despite having gone to all the right schools and universities, he hated anything too cerebral. He spent his time pursuing his sexual conquests and acquired a playboy reputation. This was much to the dismay of his straight-up father, Lenard Charles Summer (or LC as he was known to his family, friends, and associates).

Chris and Wilson squared up for some one-on-one tennis practice.

“I haven’t played for about six months … old fella,” mentioned Wilson, excusing himself after his rather lackluster performance.

“It will all come back to you. Want to go another set?”

“Actually, not right now. I have a hot date later on and I need a drink or two to relax myself.”

“I understand. Some other time maybe?”

“Say Chris … you could join me if you want. I’m meeting a few old friends down the Fox & Hound before heading off. It would be fun.”

Having no friends, family, or anything else to do, Chris said yes. Chris joined Wilson for a few drinks. It was relaxing, maybe too relaxing. He met Wilson’s intimates, Jerry, Arthur, and Lennie. All ex-schoolboy friends, the evening consisted of drinking, snacking, slapping backs, telling dirty jokes, or being sarcastic to one another. But they all got on like a house on fire. It had occurred to Chris that there seemed to be a strange kind of homosexual attractiveness between Wilson and himself, but as the evening progressed, he never gave it another thought. Too much booze and too many smokes. If Wilson made a drunken pass at him, he was not sober enough to act upon it anyway.

They had all drank far too much and before leaving for his so-called ‘hot’ date, Wilson invited Chris to join him at a small family get-together over the weekend at his parent’s country home. Chris accepted Wilson’s kind invitation.


The Summer Estate was sprawling. The big old ivy-covered country manor was surrounded by acres of picturesque wooded lands. Even the driveway was some half a mile long. Chris was suitably impressed. He knew wealth but never had any of his own. He had always hoped that his tennis career would lead to both fame and fortune, but that had been a pipe dream. His good fortune did not reside there.

Wilson introduced Chris to his Father, LC, his mother, Nina, and his younger sister, Cleo. Cleo was a mousy young woman, not unattractive, but very conservative and understated in her dress and of quiet demeanor. However, Chris did notice that there was a sparkle in her eyes that hinted at something very naughty behind her ‘girl-next-door’ image. As their time together moved on it was obvious to Chris that she liked him and her parents seemed to warm to him immediately.

“He could have won the US Open last year!” boasted the over-exuberant Wilson to his family.

“You have to enter to be eligible,” corrected Chris.

They all laughed. LC patted Chris on the shoulders.

“I’m sure you would have done well Chris,” LC consoled.

“In my dreams LC,” he conceded.

The Summers genuinely seemed to like Chris’ humility in comparison to their own son’s obviously flashy and showy attitude. After dinner, Chris was looking for Wilson. He managed to dodge the bespectacled little Cleo, who had taken to following him like a lost kitten and in the library, he heard elevated voices. Was it Jerry, Arthur, or Lennie? Chris pressed his weight against the door. Wilson appeared.

“Back in a moment,” he said to someone else (outside of Chris’ view) and then disappeared out onto the library veranda.

Chris stood in the library doorway and turned to see that he was not alone. A young woman sat smoking a cigarette by the open veranda doors. By her darker skin tone, raven black hair, and Dravidian facial features, she appeared to be a strange mixture of exotic racesc… maybe a Chindian (half Chinese and half Indian)? She had her back to the door and did not notice Chris enter the room. She was small framed, slender but muscular, and in profile was stunningly attractive. Chris subconsciously licked his lips. She exhaled a plume of grey-blue smoke and turned to face Chris. Maybe she didn’t expect anyone to be there and looked a little surprised at Chris staring back at her.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you,” apologized Chris.

She smiled without saying a word. Chris thought she was hot. Really hot. She was dressed to cock tease and had a fuck-me look about her. Her stomach was visible beneath her string halterneck top and her belly button was pierced with some kind of ethnic stone.

“I’m Chris, by the way.”

Chris extended his hand genteel-like, but the dark-skinned girl ignored the gesture.

“Mink,” said Mink plainly.

Her voice was deep and husky. Chris warmed to it immediately. He could not help but notice the glint of her satanic-like jewelry around her slender neck.

“Well, hello Mink.”

“Everyone calls me Mink, but it’s actually Lydia.”

“No. I actually think that Mink seems to suit you better. More intriguing don’t you think?”

Chris was immediately flirting. He stepped closer and took the cigarette from her delicate painted fingers. Taking a drag, he handed it back to her. He couldn’t help but look her up and down, but Mink seemed to like it, encouraging his flirtatious nature to pursue her further… like a strange game of courtship. Yes, Chris thought there was something very unusual about Mink. Sexual. Strange. Even androgynous about her almost flat chest and overly heavy Asian makeup.

“You’re very cocksure, aren’t you Clive.”

“Chris,” he said to remind her that his name was Chris.


Mink grinned playfully (as if she called him the wrong name on purpose).

She turned to look beyond the open veranda and blew more smoke. Was she kind of bored with the conversation already? She seemed intrigued one moment, and nonchalant the next. It was a bit disconcerting and Chris felt immediately inept at being the man of interest.

Just as he was about to say something, Wilson re-entered the library.

“Ahhh! Chris, there you are … And I see you’ve already met my fiancee. Lydia.”

The hot date. The penny dropped. Mink was Wilson’s. It was disappointing but somehow seemed to fit the picture completely. Wilson grabbed Mink by the waist and they kissed. Mink’s eyes stayed on Chris as her tongue plunged into her ‘fiancee’s’ open mouth. It was pure exhibitionism. Chris’ cock lurched in his pants unexpectedly. Fuck! He thought she was the hottest thing he’d ever seen … not just to look at, though she was easy on the eye, but it was her sexual demeanor … open, raw, wanting … Chris wanted to fuck her desperately.


The next time they all met up, was for a double date. Chris and Cleo. Wilson and Mink. They had already been drinking for a couple of hours and Chris was seriously bored of Cleo. There was nothing actually wrong with her. She was very nice. Lovely in fact. She was obviously very keen on him… in her own way seductive but not overtly sexual. She was the only one who wasn’t over the alcohol limit. She was completely dotting over Chris.

“My sister really likes you Chris,” said Wilson.

He draped him over Chris’ shoulder. Their bodies touching but not expressly in a sexual way. More like buddies, but it once again crossed his mind that Wilson may be bisexual. Wilson’s words were a little slurred, but there was some kind of sexual invitation there in his body language. Wilson held onto Chris as he pretended to need help in standing upright, suffering partly under the influence, partly as if he enjoyed their bodily contact. Was Wilson pressing his hard-on against him? Chris was not sure. He actually didn’t mind it at all, as he also found Wilson quite sexy.

It was obvious that Cleo expected Chris to take her back to his humble abode and give her some intimate time. But Chris was fixated elsewhere. Mink looked hot and sexy from head to toe, which tittered on the tips of her eight-inch high stiletto heels. It was not all in Chris’ imagination either as it seemed to him that Mink had been stirring the pot too. Sure, she was all over Wilson — both were drunk as skunks.

They sexually pawed each other and passionately kissed in a way that seemed to embarrass young Cleo. Maybe there was a slight hint of jealousy even? Chris could swear that it was all a show, put on to tease him. It was like watching live soft porn. Mink’s eyes strayed frequently from her lover’s and looked directly at Chris’ like a forbidden invitation of cheating lust. Look at us … I want to do this to you … I’m sucking Wilson’s face, but I really want to be sucking your cock … Chris shook his head.

It all got a bit much and Chris and Cleo eventually left together. She had asked him to take her back to his apartment on the pretense that Mink was pissing her off or so Chris assumed. It had been very strange. Cleo’s disapproval of Mink was very obvious.

“She’s a nigger,” exclaimed Cleo.

Chris looked surprised to hear the ‘N’ word come from the conservative young woman.

“And … she’s not even a real girl,” she added quickly.

Not a real girl? What did that mean?

“What do you mean?”

“Wilson’s nigger girlfriend has a cock … not a pussy!”

The words ‘nigger’, ‘cock’ and ‘pussy’ seemed strangely out of place coming from little Cleo. A hint of her true nature maybe. Chris sparked up. Her button nose wrinkled up in complete disgust. But she spat it out like more than an insult. She really seemed to disapprove of her brother’s choice of partners.

“Sorry, Cleo. You’re not making any sense?”

“I’m telling you. Mink is like a transsexual. Like a queer. My brother is dating a fucking nigger queer … it’s so disgusting. I think she’s into devil worship or something … she’s like a nigger witch or something.”

Chris was taken aback. Of course, he knew what a transsexual was. He’d fantasized many times about what that experience would be like. A girl with something extra between her legs was deeply appealing to his bisexual nature.

“I only put up with it, because I don’t want to hurt his feelings,” she added.

Chris became turgid. He had a huge collection of tranny porn. Fuck. That made him want Mink even more. His cock was like a steel rod in the soft material of his pants. He remembered her satanic jewelry as well. A tranny witch?

Cleo’s hands brushed against his crutch and her fingers lightly danced across the unmistakable bulge in his pants. She took his excitement to be about her, not realizing that it had been her comments about Mink’s strange sexuality that had triggered his uncontrollable urge.

Pre-cum immediately began leaking into his underwear at the thought of going down on Mink’s delicious tranny cock. A nice black cock squirting salty semen. They would suck each other, tasting each other’s cocks as they kissed each other in deviant bliss. Chris thought about fucking her hard in her dirty little arse-pussy. Sticking his cock right up her poop shoot. Ah, Sodomy was such an unchristian thing to do. Devilment. Anilingus. The black kiss. It was incredulous. Forbidden pleasures. He wanted it so bad. As he imagined his most taboo fantasies, young Cleo, began to masturbate him through his pants.

“Oh, Chris. I want you,” she said.



It was already quite late when Chris brought Cleo back to his overly modest semi-furnished Charlton apartment. The darkness of the apartment helps to disguise its plainness. It was a far cry from the luxury of the Summer family, but Cleo was far too preoccupied with her seduction of her brother’s new friend. They kissed each other and began to undress together. Chris’ body was all stringy muscle and tanned flesh after a lifetime of professional sports. Cleo, on the other hand, was a little chubby and very pale — as if she’d never seen the sun.

Chris pressed her down upon his unmade bed. She giggled as he kissed her slightly flabby little tits and began to suckle upon her pinkish nipples until they stood proud and erect. His penis was still only semi-erect as Cleo’s chubby little fingers rubbed his foreskin back and forth. Chris closed his eyes as he imagined wayward thoughts about Wilson’s fiancee, Lydia Mink. Her tranny cock was hard and wet filling his own backside. He imagined her jacking his cock as she fucked him hard, milking his prostate. His cock immediately turned to steel in Cleo’s hand.

“Oh Chris, I love you,” she said, pleased that he had responded to her caress.

Chris didn’t respond immediately. He placed his mouth over hers and kissed her in response. They kissed and Cleo straddled his hips, lowering herself onto his rampant cock. It pressed upwards and slid into the depths of her sloppy cunt.

“I love you too,” he whispered, almost inaudibly, and immediately wished he hadn’t.

He closed his eyes and thrust upwards inside her sopping wet hole thinking of Mink’s arse-cunt. Cleo was so wet that her juices seemed to squirt from her slit. Chris had never been with a squirter before. She gripped his broad shoulders and pressed down to match his mistimed thrustings.

Chris began to pant loudly as he grasped her flabby little tits … again, his mind was elsewhere.

“Oh, Chris … Oh, Chris … I want to have your baby.”


The pattern of late nights, pub hopping, drunken parties… ending with Cleo crashing over at Chris’ place had gone on for a while. This time it had been a particularly long night. It was late the next day that Cleo left Chris’ apartment to make her way home. He remembered that they had not made love for quite some time, but instead, he had made Cleo masturbate him or suck him off, sometimes for hours at a time – while he lay back and imagined her hands belonged to Mink or at least imagining all the kinky things he wanted to do with the delicious transsexual. It was an awful thing to do and Chris knew it … It was unfair. But he didn’t care. Fuck it.

On this particular Saturday morning, Chris made the excuse that he had some errands to run and they made plans to catch up over the next weekend. Alone again, Chris lay naked in a messy bed. As much as he tried not to think about about it, his thoughts would return to the previous night. They had all gone clubbing. Cleo and Chris, Wilson and Mink.

The night had started out as usual, with lots of drinking and some dancing. They had been to three different South London clubs. Wilson knew everyone and could get them everywhere. It was fun … Chris was very drunk. He couldn’t remember exactly how the circumstances came about but Cleo had bumped into an old school friend, Shirley Montgomery, or something like that.

Shirley was quite attractive. The two girls went off to talk outside, where it was less noisy. Wilson had disappeared, as he did occasionally. That had created an unexpected moment where he and Mink were alone together. Chris grabbed Mink and pulled her off the crowded dance floor and in a moment of foolishness, he kissed her on the mouth. Mink pulled back.

“What the fuck Chris?” she said.

“You asked for that!” he answered.

“Chris you are playing a dangerous game. What would Cleo think?”

“Cleo doesn’t need to know,” he went to kiss Mink again and she pushed him back again.

“You’ve got it made with Snow White and I’m with Wilson. Anyway, you know what I am. Thought you only like real girls?”

She looked at him with half-closed sultry eyes. It felt like an invitation.

“Why do you look at me that way?”

“Maybe I want you to piss in my mouth?”

Mink laughed out loud and grabbed his crutch. He’d been fully erect and she grinned at discovering his excitement; as if she got a dirty thrill out of leading him on.

“… Maybe I want you to fuck me hard in my sweet little arse-pussy, Chris?”

Chris wasn’t sure if she was serious or more likely making fun of him. Did she mock his desire? Or did she really want him as bad as he wanted her?

“… Maybe I want you to suck my hard dick and make me cum over your face. You like the taste of tranny cum?”

Chris groaned to himself. But as he lay in bed masturbating, the ambiguous invitation brought his balls close to boiling over. He stroked his cock thinking about gobbling her succulent black tranny cock, licking her heavy balls, and tasting her nasty little sphincter. Fuck, she was so fucking hot. Drinking her piss, yes, he’d love to do that. He imagined her pissing in his mouth and then fucking his face, her greasy hot balls against his chin as she sprayed her hot salty jism in his greedy mouth.

What had followed this was the sexting between them.

It became incessant, almost ceaseless. For several weeks the pair of them had shared strange intimacies via their mobile phones. Mink was a total fucking cock teaser. Explicit images and blasphemous words filled the odd hours of their chats. Her paraphilias seemed boundless and this only made Chris want her more.

She talked a lot about devil worship, satanism, occult, black magic, sex demons, and her desire to be worshiped as one. Chris wanted to worship her desperately. She sent him videos of her masturbating, urinating and even self-sucking, her flexible neck bend up so that her long dark-skinned cock slipped effortlessly between her fully painted lips. She showed off her weird collection of sex toys and cosplay outfits … saying that Wilson couldn’t satisfy her sexual interests … that she needed a perverted lover who would do anything she wanted, no matter how sexually perverted and evil.

The game continued.

She was also coming up with bizarre suggestions. This time the message read …

“Maybe I want you to drink a glass of my piss at the dinner table in Summer’s house, in front of your fucking stuck-up little Snow White. You can pretend its a light beer …”

The next day at the family get-together, Chris did as Mink asked. They exchanged glasses with the look of a co-conspiracy. Chris couldn’t believe that he was actually going along with Mink’s perverted ideas; but he was highly aroused as he sipped from the glass that he knew was filled with her piss, as she drank from her glass filled with his. It tasted salty and heady, but Chris savored every last drop of it and as he did, they both watched each other almost ritualistically. Doing such a deviant act; while pretending to be so innocent, in front of their respective partners seemed even more thrilling.

The thought of their perverted games sent him over the edge and he came harder than anything he’d experienced with little Cleo.


Cleo’s father, LC, seemed to have taken a great fondness for young Chris. It was as if he had written off his own biological son, Wilson, and substituted his potential future son-in-law as his next protege. Chris had quit his day job as a tennis coach and LC sent him to a prestigious business college to be schooled in what he called the ‘essentials’.

LC of course paid for everything. Chris accepted the unlimited kindnesses of the Summer family in return for his outward show of love and affection for their only daughter. Snow White as Mink had nick-named her was treated like a princess. It wasn’t that he didn’t find Cleo a suitable martial partner, far from it. She loved him and never questioned him about anything. She seemed to trust and adore him more and more each day.

“Oh Mummy, Chris is doing so well with his studies. He’s a real natural to business.”

And it was true. Chris did seem to excel at his executive course. It wasn’t so demanding that it took up all his time, in fact, during the daytime, the course gave him ample opportunity to stay in touch with Mink as their naughty games continued despite the realization that they both had it good … if they didn’t fuck it up (with their respective partners).

Cleo’s Mother, Nina, mentioned the possibility of a spring ‘engagement’ and things seemed to steamroll forward towards the inevitability of Chris and Cleo’s betrothal. They moved to a spacious Chelsea apartment with river views and upon graduation from his executive studies, Chris was given an important post inside Summer & Summer, working alongside his potential father-in-law.

The apartment was tastefully decorated, with large floor-to-ceiling windows, and many of the walls were fully mirrored to reflect the light and make the spacious design look even bigger. Chris was provided with an executive car and a full-time chauffeur. They both dined every night at London’s finest restaurants. The money and the privileges grew exponentially as Chris proved to be a true asset and not just a liability like LC’s playboy son, who seemed to date an “Unsuitable type” of partner.


It was the same day that Chris proposed to Cleo, that Wilson dropped a bombshell.

“Well, it’s not like our relationship was going anywhere,” said Wilson.

“But, this is so sudden Chris?” answered Cleo.

Chris had only caught the tail-end of the conversation.

“What’s going on Wilson?” he asked.

“Mink and I broke up.”

“Oh dear,” said Chris.

Chris’ head was buzzing.

“Yer, I kind of got fed up with her stupid nigger games … all that dark Goth stuff … devils and demons … She was just over-the-top dear boy. Anyway, I met someone new.”


“Well yes and no. I kind of met Patricia a few months ago. Cleo and I had known her from when we were children actually. She is from a very wealthy famil y… all the right upbringing … I think Mommy will be very happy. Anyway, we are going to have a baby, so we are thinking we might have to move up the engagement to a wedding sooner than later.”

Cleo looked at Chris. And Chris looked into space.

“I know it’s all so sudden. By you both love her, I know you will. Patricia is a diamond!” explained Wilson, who was talking a million miles an hour.

He laughed and hugged them both.

“And I heard the excellent news … that you are both going to tie the knot.”

Cleo began to cry.

“Did I say something wrong?” asked Wilson.

“No, I’m just so happy for you Wilson. And yes … Chris proposed to me this morning. It’s just been a day of delights. I’m just a little overwhelmed.”


The messaging between Mink and Chris had come to an abrupt stand-still. It was as if she’d gone off the grid. He wanted to speak to her; find out her side of the story; and most of all, wanted desperately to continue their virtual sex. But there was complete radio silence. It went on for months. Nothing. He went around to her apartment only to find that it had been vacated. The landlord had no idea where she had gone.

Life with the Summers continued. Cleo and Nina planned for Cleo and Chris’s wedding. In the meanwhile, Wilson and Patricia got married. It was a lavish affair. They spared no expense. Patricia’s father was in shipping and had an entire maritime empire to boast of.

LC promoted Chris to an executive post and gave him an important assignment to oversee the merger of two foreign banking firms. It was a lucrative deal (as long as nothing went wrong), and Chris seemed to be on top of the deal. Chris traveled with the merger S&S merger team to Zurich to meet with the merger partners.

Whilst there, Chris took the opportunity to have a look around the lake area that was close to the city. The crystal clear waters, pure mountain air, and the alpine landscape was a welcome pause from the endless meeting, discussions, and presentations that seemed to accompany the M&A business.

So, Chris chilled with his cafe latte, looking onto Lake Zurich in the late afternoon. He was feeling sad about losing all connections with Mink, when suddenly out of the blue he saw her. At first he thought he was seeing things. Of all the luck? Couldn’t be? What would be the chances of that? They must be extremely low right? But there she was. Mink was walking away from where Chris was sitting, so he jumped up and ran after her.

“Mink! Mink! …. MINK!” he yelled.

She turned around and squinted to see who had called her name unexpectedly.


He caught up with her, panting but grinning wildly.

“It is you? What happened to you? Oh my God! It’s you! I cannot believe it.”

Mink looked rather less exuberant about the reunion.

“Look, Chris. I have to go … I left because I wanted you … and I knew you belonged to the fucking little Snow White.”

Chris grabbed her wrist.

“Mink stop … I need you to stay …”


Chris and Mink went to Chris’ hotel suite. They rushed through the foyer and fidgeted impatiently at the lift. They looked at each other, standing close, trying not to be obvious about themselves in the presence of the other waiting guests. Mink grinned at Chris and moved behind him in the lift filled with people. Pressing herself against his posterior, Chris felt her budging erection. He smiled at her reflection in the mirrored walls of the lift as he secretly purred. Getting out on Chris’ floor, they were both like cats on a hot tin roof. Mink giggled and Chris pulled her along by the hand.

Finally, they reached Chris’ room. He fumbled with the key card but opened the door to dispute himself. He was all nervous in anticipation of the forbidden pleasures to come. The suite wasn’t anything too flashy, but it was more than just a bedroom. Once inside and finally alone, they both sighed. Chris slammed the door closed and wasted no time in kissing Mink passionately on the mouth. Mink returned with gusto, their tongue dueled as they swapped hot foamy spit. Chris held Mink tightly against him and finally, their erections pressed together albeit through the many layers of their clothing.

They didn’t say a word, as their mouths never parted. Even as their hands mauled at each other; jackets, shirts, shoes, pants … underwear … skin … they fell together over the large L-shaped couch, their naked loins fiercely rubbing against each other; frotting as if there was no tomorrow. They panted in labor and audibly gasped as they forgot to breathe completely in the heat of their long-awaited passion … It was as if both were possessed by the demon of their desire.

Chris had long awaited this moment and in fact had thought that it may never happen after Mink’s disappearance. All his desires returned with vengeance. It was as if he’d seen this very moment a thousand times, but still never actually believed that it could happen … or was about to happen.

Breaking their kiss, they both panted together. He could smell the bitterness of sweat and the sweetness of their sexual heat and he slid down Mink’s slender physique. He first sucked upon her breastless nipples, taking each of the little mounds into his mouth and lavishing them with his spittle. Then, no longer able to contain his desire any further, he slid further down onto the floor, so that his face was aligned to Mink’s heated groin.

“Aaaarghhhhh … suck me fucker!” she demanded, knowing that Chris really didn’t need any further encouragement.

His dreams of sucking her delicious sweet dark meat were no less than the real thing. Grasping hold of the base of her cock, Chris steered its veined length into his open mouth. His tongue extended and lick first the shaft and then he closed his lips over Mink’s nob head, sucking it with exquisite delight.

It tasted better than he imagined. It throbbed in the roof of his mouth as Mink gasped at his oral pleasuring. Chris’ fingers touched the sensitive underside of her sweaty ball sacks and the eye of her slimy arsehole, stroking her perineum as he sucked hard upon her cock head at the same time rubbing the base of her shaft with the other hand.

“Oh … Fuck! Don’t stop … Oh! Fuck … Christ be fucked!” blasphemed Mink as she rutted up and down against Chris’ face, her left hand pressing against the back of his head, urging him to take more of her hungry meat into his hot, wet mouth.

Chris began to rub his own greasy cock with one hand whilst he continued to suck and wank her with the other. As he looked up into Mink’s almond-shaped brown eyes, they stared back at him, intently focused on what he was doing to her. Her mouth fell open and drooled with spittle.

“Arghh… Fuck. Yer! Shit! Yer … Fuck Jesus and fuck Mary … Drink my piss … and praise the devil!”

The string of obscenities exploded from Mink’s mouth as she suddenly urinated into Chris’ throat. A hot salty jet of urine squirted from the eye of her throbbing cock. Chris eagerly swallowed some and the rest poured from the side of his lips and down the front of his chest. He masturbated frantically, enjoying the perverse pleasure of Mink’s unholy anointment. Mink pulled her cock from his mouth and continued to piss over his face and hair, soaking him in her yellow rain. She then leaned forward, licking and kissing his piss-soaked face.

“Fuck. You turn me on,” she spat, “I want you to fuck me hard!”

She twisted around on the couch so that she faced away from Chris. Their piss-wet bodies pressed together as Chris immediately followed her lead and pushed his urgent cock head against her puckered sphincter. The hole was greasy and oily and Chris’ cock head sunk inches deep easily. It felt like a hungry mouth sucking his length upwards into her filthy little bowels.

“Fuck my unholy shitter! Hail Satan!”

Chris felt Mink press backward and downwards, skewering his shaft further up her hot tight rectum. Fuck … anal was so much better than vaginal … he thought. Mink’s poop tunnel seemed to constrict around the shaft of his cock, holding it in a vice-like grip, at the same time pulling him deeper into sodomistic delight. Chris reached around to grab hold of Mink’s cock, thrusting his wet palm up and down her hot flesh in rhythm with his own thrusting motion in and out of her nether-hole.

“Fuck!” he moaned, finding his own voice, “Holy fuck!”

“Ram me, fucker. Make me cum. Make me cum. Make me cum!” she screamed.



Mink took the cigarette back from Chris’ mouth and took a long drag. She turned and blew the grey-blue smoke outwards over the balcony to be carried by the breeze. The early morning view of Lake Zurich was calming.

“So you never knew that Wilson had the hots for you?”

“Never,” he lied.

“Not even a hint of attraction?”

“Maybe something … I don’t know …”

“You’re so fucking blur!”

Chris laughed and took a drag from Mink’s cigarette.

“He talked about it all the time. He also wanted us to have a threesome.”

“I never knew.”

“You knew he was banging his sister right? I mean before you came on the scene. It’s pretty fucked up.”


“Yer … I mean, they had been doing it together … like real incest … since they were very little kids. I’m into perverted shit, but that’s really fucking strange. He made me swear that I would never tell anyone. But, who gives a fuck now. He’s such an arsehole. He made me fuck her too. And then she fucked me with this strap-on thing that was partly inside her and all the way up my arse.

The devil worship stuff was all their idea. The jewelry was from Wilson. I mean they made me dress up as the Baphomet, with a strange animal head mask with tusks and horns and shit … I was so supposed to be some kind of sexual demon that they both worshiped … from the days when they were just still young children … imagine that, children worshiping a sex demon … calling out to ‘Baal’ or something like that… they both really got off on it … I mean it was kind of kinky fun to me too, but they both got off on it much more than I ever did.”


“Yer … It became a real regular thing … they have a secret room in the basement of that big old mansion … where they both liked to do a kind of sex ritual that the three of us had to perform. Like the Devil Card in the Tarot pack. The Devil and his more than willing disciples in chains at the feet of the Baphomet.”

“Oh my god!” replied Chris.

His boner was burning at the wayward thoughts.

“I guess he’s banging that new rich bitch right?” asked Mink.

She looked unhappy about the thought.


“Yer her. She’s just like them, you know. She’s into it … I think they used to fool around when they were children too.”

“She’s pregnant.”

Mink laughed.

“A baby? That’s fucked up. I bet it never gets to go full term.”

Chris looked puzzled.

“Why do you say that?”

“There will be a miscarriage. I mean it will be deliberate. Wilson and Cleo always wanted a baby to kill. They are both twisted fucks. Murderous fucking twisted fucking sex demons!”

“Honestly … this is so incredulous. She wants me to give her a baby now!”


Now it was Mink’s turn to be surprised.

“I mean, I’ve slept with Cleo … I thought she was like so fucking vanilla … I only managed to cum inside her while I thought about you!”


“Sorry. That came out wrong didn’t it?”


Mink and Chris parted company in Zurich. Chris made Mink promise not to disappear again. They were to stay in regular contact. Chris said that he would get her an apartment to live in (close by). She wouldn’t have to work. He earned a lot of money from working with Summer & Summer and the merger deal would have a big bonus involved. They could meet regularly.

Mink seemed different after their encounter in Zurich … more trusting … more open maybe? It seemed that sharing her burden about Wilson and Cleo had helped her recover from the demise of her relationship with the super-rich playboy. And the staying away from the Summer family seemed to suit her fine.

Chris on the other hand had a lot to think about.

He returned to his Chelsea apartment. The deal in Zurich had gone well at LC was very pleased with his new protege, who singlehandedly managed the key aspects of the merger process. He was well supported by the merger team, who had done most of the heavy lifting, but Chris emerged as the star of the show — and that was important to his new family.

With his sexual conquest of Mink done and his transsexual fantasies somewhat fulfilled, back home, he started to look at Cleo in a different light. She had fooled him, completely. Her persona of the “good” little fiancee had been hard to see through. Snow White had put off an Oscar-winning performance to cover her real personal, desires and motives. It should have made Chris shudder with repulsion and anger at her deceit, or at least it should have made him deeply upset with her duplicity … But that was all far from the truth. “Murderous fucking twisted fucking sex demons!” … that had been Mink’s words.

Actually, Chris grinned to himself. His cock thickened with the rush of blood and go rigid in his pants. There was a new fire in his belly. He was truly intrigued with his wife-to-be. She wasn’t the dull little daughter of some rich old guy to be exploited … this was a far more interesting proposition in Chris’ new estimations … the story of her incestuous relationship with her bisexual brother … the promise of a perverted, even demonic threesome between them … the nasty basement used as a childhood sexual playground … and her desire to offer a baby in some strange Satanic ritual as a human sacrifice to the devil … Chris rubbed his cock in anticipation of their imminent evening of lovemaking.


“I’m so glad it all went well, Chris. I knew you had it in you,” Cleo beamed, ”I’m really proud of you,” she said as she brushed her long brown hair in the mirror.

Chris stood next to her and placed his hand over her shoulders. He took the hairbrush from her hands and leaning forward he kissed her mouth. It wasn’t one of his usual tentative kisses, that seemed half-hearted but was passionate and strong. Cleo returned his gusto.

“Oh, Chris. That was … I mean … ”

“Cleo, I have been taking you for granted. Being away has made me realize what you mean to me.”

“Oh Chris, you mean so much to me too. I missed you too.”

“I cannot wait until we are married … and have a baby together …”

They kissed again, the passion even stronger than before.

“Oh Chris, You don’t know what that means to me. I love you so much.”

“And I love you.”

They quickly stripped naked and moved onto their bed. Cleo went to turn off the bedside lamps.

“No, leave it on. Let’s do it in front of the mirror. I want to see you enjoying our passion.”

“Yes, yes … I’d love that … but I’m so shy …”

There was that twinkle in her eye again. Something not quite savory.

Chris was rock-hard. His cock had never felt so hard. His precum glistened at the tip of his prick. His thoughts focused on all the new evil things he knew about his fiancee.

“Oh, Cleo … I feel so guilty …”

“Guilty? You have nothing to feel guilty about lover,” assured Cleo as she eagerly rubbed his cock.

Her fingers moved up and down, stroking his meat as she knew he liked it.

“Yes, I do. I am guilty because I have never told you that in my past, I have had many thoughts … sexual thoughts that I am deeply ashamed of, and if we are to be wed, I must be completely honest with you no matter what …”

“Oh, my love … there is nothing that you could have done or imagined doing that would poison my love for you … we all have secrets and demons … sharing them together, will only make our love stronger …” Cleo meowed and grinned like an evil Cheshire cat as he wrapped her fingers even tighter around his cock.

It was as if she was encouraging the direction of their conversation … willing him to bear his soul to her. She stoked him faster and it felt so good.

“If I said that I had bi-curious thoughts, would that make you hate me?”

Her fingers fiercely gripped his member and she began to stroke his cock even more urgently … egging him on. She laughed a little. A nervous laugh. Not in a mocking way, but almost out of relief.

“I love you, Chris, I only want you to be happy with me … If we love each other, we can explore anything you want … Let me ask you, if I was bisexual would that put you off of me?”

Interesting Chris thought. She had turned the tables on him. No, that wouldn’t turn him off, quite the opposite. He leaned forward and sucked her tits as if his sexual advance was in a way saying that he would approve.

“Of course not. But most guys would say it was a turn-on. Lesbianism is so erotic.”

“Yes, but if I said I had done it with other girls when I was young … that I enjoyed it as much as I like cock … would that make you love me less?”

Chris swallowed. He kissed her mouth and their tongues eagerly wriggled together.

“I’d love to watch you with another girl … a young girl …”

“You would really?” she sounded eager to say more, but seemingly holding back, for fear of saying too much, “How young?”

“Oh … Very young … preteen … younger … it’s the corruption … you corrupting a young girl or boy would be such a nasty thrill …”

Cleo squealed with pleasure.

“Oh Chris … Fuck me slowly and tell me more … I want to hear all about your bi-sex fantasies … I love my little cock-sucker, pedophile sodomite … mmmmmm”

They looked at each other in the mirror, Chris thought Cleo was burning hot, she was acting out of her character (usually demure and reserved). He had never seen her so animated. She was now like a whore-possessed, touching herself in front of him and squirming all over his cock. Her hairless little cunt dripped copious juices — juices that streamed from her open slit and coated his cock and balls.

“See how hot you make me Chris … I’m thinking about you sucking my brother’s cock … Mmmmm … I’d love to see that Chris.”

Chris bucked at that comment. He hadn’t seen that coming up so soon in their perverted conversation. His bony hips humped the air.

“Yes, Lover. .. Oh yes … Imagine the three of us together … what a perverted orgy that would be …”

“Oh fuck Cleo, that’s such a hot thought …” replied Chris.

“Mmmmmmmm … YES, it’s so kinky Chris … isn’t it … do you like it perverted? Dirty? Depraved, Chris?”

“Oh yes, the more depraved the better …”

“Does the thought of incest turn you on?”

“Yes incest … brother sister incest …”

“How about sex with demons?”

“Fuck, that’s hot too.”

“I could be your succubus … your sexual demon that would make all your nasty fantasies come true.”

“You’d do that for me … be my evil angel … bring me all the delights of the devil?”

“I want your soul … your moral soul … and in return all your evil sexual desires can come true.”

Cleo was wanking his cock faster and faster. Her finger squirmed into his backside. This was something that she had never done before. She pulled her dirty digit out and pushed it into his mouth. He sucked on its bitterness and rebelled against it.

“You’re a nasty boy. A nasty perverted boy. I want to shit in your mouth … And you are all mine. We are going to do so many nasty things together Chris … I want you in my shit-hole … fuck me like a little boy … does it turn you on to imagine that I’m a little boy, Chris …”

Chris wasn’t sure how she was doing it, but she was fingering her cunt and masturbating him at the same time, whilst squatting over his prone rod. The pleasure was overwhelming. As she lowered herself over him, her face was a grimace of both pleasure and pain, as his cock head began to enter the rosebud of her dirty little anus. The tightness of her sphincter immediately gripped his manhood, as her body weight pressed downwards upon his shaft, pushing it further up into her bowels.

“So fucking … so fucking hot! Cleo.”

“I want to please you like no other Chris.”

“Oh, Cleo … I feel the same … There isn’t anything I wouldn’t do for you.”

Cleo pressed her fingers into Chris’ mouth. He could taste her sour cunt juices and a hint of urine.


Chris grunted in pleasure and nodded to Cleo’s reflection in the full-length mirrored closet. Cleo rode up Chris’ cock and then thrust down … up and down … up and down … up and down … each successful movement was faster and more vigorous.

“Anything?” she asked again.

“Yes! Anything!” Chris buried his dick so that his balls were pressed against her perineum.

“Oh, cuck!” screamed Cleo as she began to buck against her own fingers with the strength of her self-induced orgasm.

Cleo slid from Chris’ cock and pressed her hairless cunt against his mouth. He intuitively opened his mouth and extended his tongue to lap in her wet canal. He pressed his tongue against her tiny clitoris and she squirmed on his face.

“Mmmmmm … Chris … when we marry … can it be in the Church of Satan?”


Chris had not quite fathomed the depths of his fiance’s depravity and what exactly it all meant – other than to sate his own debauched sexual wantonness.

Their wedding was to be modest in comparison to Wilson’s flashy affair with Patricia. Both Cleo and Chris wanted to keep it small and intimate. It was to be a discrete church wedding before Cleo’s mother and father, their immediate family, and only a selection of LC’s most important confidants. It was simple and elegant, with Father O’Neill conducting the ceremony.

The good Father had been a friend of the Summers family and his church the beneficiary of their generosity. He beamed at the bride. Cleo was dressed all in delicate white lace with a little red-headed flower girl, a tiny orphan by the name of Rebecca, carrying a simple bouquet of white and pink roses. Father O’Neill administered the vows and there was the exchange of rings. Chris had no family to invite, but Wilson officiated as his best man (despite being the brother of the bride) – nobody objected as it all seemed so innocent.

Chris and Cleo had planned to leave the British shores for a short but exotic, hideaway honeymoon on an island off the coast of Thailand. A day before and only two days after their church wedding, their real wedding was about to take place at the stroke of midnight in a small desecrated chapel, deep in the grounds of the Summer estate. It was a very private place and needed to be, a place where only the Summers ever went.

Wilson and Patricia had prepared everything. It was to be his wedding gift to his sister and Chris. The chapel had been prepared, with a low altar bed and a large demonic idol that clearly indicated that this was not to be a Christian ritual. Black and red candles created a mystic mood and the smell of incense filled the air.

The sound of wooden wind chimes welcomed the naked couple as they stood hand in hand before the darkly clad High Priestess, played by Patricia, who was to preside over the formalities before the Oaths and Sigils… the gong, the silver chalice, the dagger, the strapless phallus, the wedding rings and a length of cord.

The High Priestess proudly wore a demonic horned mask that covered the upper part of her face, leaving her mouth exposed. Wilson played the part of the demonic deacon. He had made sure that the Baphomet plaque hung on the chapel wall behind the altar on its west wall. Cleo wore the Baphomet amulet around her neck, its heaviness laid against her damp little breasts.

Wilson stood next to Chris, dressed similarly to the High Priestess in a dark gown, beneath which the High Priestess and himself were both naked. Cleo’s close friend, Shirley stood beside her dressed in a simple black tunic. The young flower girl (from Father O’Neill’s church, Rebecca) stood to one side of the couple.

She carried a bouquet of Acacia, that was to symbolize the passion of their secret love. The young flower girl was scantly dressed in a single translucent tunic that barely covered her virgin genitals. She smiled eagerly at Cleo, who reached out to stroke Rebecca’s lovely long ginger hair. Chris’ cock twitched as he imagined the young girl’s deflowering.

The demonic deacon (Wilson) banged the small gong and the High Priestess raised her open palms to the chapel roof. Her ringed fingers gripped the inverted pentagram from around her neck as she began the ritual.

“In Nomine Dei Nostri Satanas Luciferi Excelsi!” she said slowly and purposefully, “In the name of Satan, I call upon the forces of Darkness and the infernal power within! Consecrate this place with the lust, salaciousness, and darkness of Lucifer. Join with us, we say in the binding of these two who shall be as one.”

The High Priestess raised a red candle and Cleo and Chris knelt close to the High Priestess at her elegant bare feet. She opened the front of her dark gown, baring her hairless vagina and perk little breasts for all to see.

“We call upon the element of fire to come to serve us, for we are one with Satan! Flame the passion of Cleo and Chris and fill them with all-consuming ardor and lust for each other … as well as the lust of your demons. Ave Satanas.”

Gong. Gong. Gong.

The High Priestess put her hand behind Cleo’s head and urged her forward. Cleo began kissing the High Priestess’ swollen labia that glistened with sexual arousal. Cleo tongue snaked out from between her parted lips, penetrating the High Priestess’ open and greasy slit, pleasuring her until she began to groan out loud.

“Aarghhhh …”

Chris took his turn, lapping at her vagina as if his life depended upon it. Again the High Priestess showed her satisfaction at his cunnilingual efforts. The High Priestess took the silver chalice from the side altar. The shiny challis was embellished with strange markings of black magic and occult symbology that Chris could understand. He watched the beautiful High Priest hold the lip of the challis just below her urethra and began to noisily urinate into it until it is almost brimming with her acrid frothy yellow piss.

“We call upon the element of water to come to serve us, for we are one with Satan! Grant Cleo and Chris the joys of sexual perversity so they may sin in your name … offering their most depraved desires and serving you on earth as it is in hell. Ave Satanas.”

Gong. Gong. Gong.

The High Priestess offers the piss-filled challis to Cleo who drinks from its heady brew. Cleo took large gulps of the warm salty piss and then shared the rest of the contents of the challis with her betrothed. Chris took the challis from Cleo and drank its contents until the challis was completely empty. Drinking her piss made him feel so debauched.

The High Priestess took the empty challis from his hands and then Chris turned to face Cleo and Cleo turned to face Chris. They now knelt face-to-face. The High Priestess retrieved the strapless dildo and pushed the more bulbous end inside her vagina opening so that the opposing end stood out from her narrow hips, giving her a baphometic appearance. Wilson, the demon deacon removed his gown. Like Chris, his cock of already fully erect and dripping from his precum emissions. He took his position and knelt behind Chis.

“We call upon the element of earth to come to serve us, for we are one with Satan! Let these rings be a sign of their devotion to each other and to the ways of evil; that they will promise to live as you desire without shame for their sexual sins. Ave Satanas.”

Gong. Gong. Gong.

The young flower girl stood between the couple with her back to the High Priestess. She gave one of the wedding bands to Chris and the other to Cleo. They exchanged rings and put them on their fingers. As they knelt inches apart, they kissed mouth-to-mouth as the High Priestess bound the flower girl’s tiny little hands behind her back.

Wilson watched with a salacious eagerness to corrupt the young one as he wasted no time in pressing his aching erection against Chris’ backside, frotting against the cleft of his buttocks, as his right fist closed around Chris’ aching cock. Chris groaned as Wilson masturbated him. Shirley removed her tunic and knelt immediately behind Cleo. She reached around Cleo’s waist and immediately began to rub Cleo’s aroused clitoris as she pressed her own against Cleo’s posterior.

The High Priestess took the razor-sharp dagger from the side altar and used it to cut away the flower girl’s clothing so that she now stood naked between the two lovers. The High Priestess encouraged both Chris and Cleo to suckle upon the young flower girl’s budding breasts and she steadied the dagger at the girl’s windpipe.

“We call upon the element of wind to come to serve us, for we are one with Satan! Let the blood of the virgin flow and consecrate your coupling … that we take her life before Satan so that we made feast upon her untainted flesh. Ave Satanas.”

Gong. Gong. Gong.


To be continued?


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