XIV — TEMPERANCE 4

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 as 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 of fantasy only. All the characters in this story are adults. They may play different ages for the fictional characters they are depicting, but they remain, at all times, adults. All Rights Reserved © 2025 LITTLESALLY666.

STORY CODES: Transgender, Transvestism, Incest, Pissing, Voyeurism, Young Ones, Sodomy, Satanism, Blasphemy, Devil Worship, Tribalism, Paganism.

AUTHOR’S NOTES: The continuing saga of Connor and Roxi. This story is totally fuelled by my own frustrations — and by a friend saying that he “was totally in love with Ashley and missed her from the previous few chapters”. Ashley is so fucking hot. I want her day and night. Her young, effeminate, transsexual body is made for rough sex … filthy sex … depraved sex … nothing else comes close!

CREATED: 01.08.2025 (V9)

XIV — Temperance 4

ABOUT “TEMPERANCE”

The fourteenth card of the Tarot. When Temperance appears in a reading, it is suggestive of someone who is embroiled in lust. It often signifies sexual relations, but not necessarily heterosexual sex. It could mean gay, bisexual, transsexual, or even incestuous encounters. Androgynous in nature, Temperance is a balance between male and female forces; between light and dark. Temperance is also about taking sex to the next lustful level — to explore the magic of Tantric sex — desire is equal to passion, is equal to orgasmic delight.

SYNOPSIS OF “TEMPERANCE 4”

Conner (a pseudonym for XP) persuades his cousin, Tony, to take a break from his troubled marriage and seek his peace at the church seminary — but in doing so — creates an opportunity for his blackmailer, Karen, and her son, Dicky, to meet Roxi and Ashley for some evil and twisted sex.

CHARACTERS OF “TEMPERANCE 4”

• Conner — protagonist
• Roxi — Conner’s girlfriend
• Richard (Dick) — Conner’s cousin’s son, effeminate
• Tony & Karen — Richard’s father (preacher) and mother
• Ashley — Roxi’s transexual “daughter”

ACT TEN — THE CONFESSION (2,055 WORDS)

My name is Conner. I’m a fifty-two-year-old divorcee. I have been living with Roxi, my new girlfriend, and her deviously transgender child, Ashley. Let me start by saying that the events of the past few weeks have been utterly bizarre. By this, it’s not a complaint in any way — rather, it’s more of an observation of sorts. And what I am about to tell you, to me, seemed even more bizarre.

It all started out at a large family function held at a small local hotel — we’d all been busy partying, feasting, singing, and dancing — and strangely that had sparked a rather torrid sexual relationship between myself and my cousin’s young son, Richard (Dick, as he preferred to be called).

Father Tony, my cousin (and Dick’s father), was an ultraconservative type and also a devout priest. You know the type, right? They live in some kind of make-believe world, where their benevolent God does wonderful things, as long as you fear him. It’s such bollocks! I mean, are you really going to take something like that seriously? Like when you’re told that “wisdom comes from the fear of God”? Fuck that!

Anyway, little did I know, at the time, that this situation would escalate to my seduction. And it was through the art of blackmail by Dick’s incestuous mother, Karen. She turned out to be pretty fucked-up. And into some crazily perverted shit herself (all behind her righteous husband’s back). Bless her!

To complicate matters further, my cousin, Father Tony, had confided (I say confessed) in me, that he had become suspicious of both his son and his wife — that he felt that something just wasn’t right. Well, he was correct about that. However, the question in my mind, was, did he suspect their incestuous relationship? He intimated that it was just a “feeling” and that he had no hard evidence to the fact. He mentioned having nightmares … bizarre ones. He just wanted to get my unbiased opinion, as he felt, he could have been overreacting to the circumstances — which was obviously not the case.

What was I suppose to say? Lie of course. How to give an opinion on such matters? Should I have told him that I was fucking, both his faggot son ass, and his adulteress wife cunt? Or that we’d all consummated our perverted love triangle, before the Black Baphomet — right beneath his religious nose?

No. I was going to say that.

xxxxx

It was Sunday morning at St Andrew’s Chapel. The church bells were ringing, calling out to the faithful. And, out of morbid curiosity, I was draw to attend Father Tony’s service. Of course, young Dick was there, dressed in his sexy altar boy outfit (that I’d fucked in him and pissed over). Karen was there too, sitting so innocently in the third row from the front. Both had quickly glanced over at me. We all smiled, so slyly. Like happy strangers. But it seemed that we’d been co-conspirators in our trinity of unholy, blasphemous sex.

Father Tony stood at the altar. He opened his Bible and began his solemn sermon.

“The Bible uses the term, The Children of Belial,” preached Father Tony from his pulpit, “By The Children of Belial, the good book describes people who are utterly wicked, sinful, and perverted. They are sinners that often try to turn others away from the Light of God’s Love. They are evil people that live blasphemously … in direct opposition to our Father’s righteous ways. They are morally corrupt. They seek only to create chaos in their wake!”

I could see Father Tony’s eyes narrow and his hands gripping his heavy Bible tightly. He looked deeply troubled. His mind seemed somewhat distracted possibly with his own chaotic thoughts of his son and wife.

“Deuteronomy 13, verse 13 — tells us that there are corrupt men and women who have come among us to entice us, saying, Let us go and serve other gods, which you have not known, they said. By other gods they of course mean to worship the Devil incarnate! They are demons!”

He sounded kind of fired up — as if on a mission from God!

I quietly laughed at the stupid fucker. Maybe his crazy disposition had been caused by the pressure of dealing with his effeminate, faggot-assed son and his wayward, delinquent wife. Were they The Children of Belial? Or did he suspect my involvement in all this sordidness? Was I the corruptor that he talked about? Was this a shakedown to have me confess my sinful ways? I couldn’t read it. There was just too many permutations.

xxxxx

”Thank you for coming,” said Tony.

The rings beneath Father Tony’s eyes looked dark and the whites of his eyes were kind of a bit bloodshot. He appeared so mentally exhausted and deeply concerned … like he hadn’t slept easily in a few weeks.

“Honestly, don’t know where to start,” he remarked.

We’d met after his Sunday morning service in his priory. It was quiet there. Father Tony served some hot tea and shortbread biscuits. They were his favorites. After the morning crowd had dissipated, we were finally alone. We sat down opposite each other in his uncomfortable, vinyl-covered, chairs. He was still dressed in his ceremonial green gown, that he wore for Ordinary Days, and it looked as he’d been sweating profusely in it. Not that it was overly hot — I thought it was his nervous disposition, maybe? He seemed to be very fidgety, unsettled, and rather skittish.

“Maybe start at the beginning,” I answered.

I tried my best to hid my indifference towards my stupid, Christian-fucker, of a cousin. Actually, I really didn’t want to be there but as circumstances would have it — he kind of cornered me. Well, fuck it!

“Hmmm. It wasn’t anything specific. Well, maybe it was? I’m not sure anymore. It was more like a … kind of prickly feeling … as if God was trying to tell me something, you know? Like he was talking to me, subconsciously. I haven’t been sleeping well … horrible nightmares, actually. Maybe it’s just my discomfort with everything.”

”Like what?”

“Like, my son’s behavior lately. He was such a promising young altar boy. Always so dedicated. Full of potential. But lately he seemed so … distracted. So uninterested in our faith. You know what I mean?”

I knew exactly what he meant but I pretended not to understand. In my head, I kept seeing the images of young Dick, his filthy, young son. I closed my eyes like a heavy blink. I could see him laying naked and prone. His little, erect penis was spurting so much fucking cock-juice. It went everywhere. Fuck, I wished I could cum like that. His perverted mother, Karen, was riding his upturned face. And me … I had my blood-filled cock, buried deep in his dirty bowels. The three of us chanting wildly, “Fuck Gawd! Fuck Gawd!” — so blasphemously in our beloved worship of the Devil incarnate.

“And …” Tony hesitated, “My dear wife … I mean … I tried to talk to her about it … but she was so dismissive of everything I had to say … it was as if I was the problem … not my son … you know! Can’t she see the way he behaves so … effeminately? I really don’t know … what do you think?”

I just listened without answering right away. Again, my mind filled with recent memories of Karen’s incestuous confession and how she’d blackmailed me into our bizarre sexual affair — how she’d tricked me — but how that had only inspired more deviant lust and depravity between us. She was more than just a willing worshiper, not of his Abrahamic god, but of evil, wickedness, and of the demons of sex. My cock stiffened in my pants just thinking about it. I needed to jerk off soon.

”I know this sound weird, but it’s as if there are … dare I say, there are demons at work. Demonic forces … you know. Evil comes in so many forms …” he quaked, “Demons of disrespect, disharmony, temptation, and ungodly desires … I know I must sound a little crazy, right?”

Yes, I thought. But didn’t answer. Hail Satan. Demons. Sex demons. Depravity … I knew. And to me, it’s sounded so insanely wonderful — I remembered watching his naked son laying across our Satanic altar bed, while his perverted mother mounted his upturned face. As she dragged her oily cunt across his lips, she began to piss like a fire hydrant, directly into his open mouth. All the while I had my cock keep fucking his tight, little asshole — moving faster and faster! I could still smell the acrid stench of our combined urine in my recent memory. So lewd and foul. Fuck gawd, I thought. Fuck Christ. If Father Tony had any idea about how sick and wicked the three of us were, he’d fall down and die of a fucking heart attack! Maybe that wasn’t such a bad idea?

“Honestly, Tony,” I added, “Maybe you’ve been working too hard? Overthinking matters. I don’t think there’s anything preternatural to worry about. I’m sure everything is fine,” I lied, “Maybe what you need is a break? It sounds like you really need to unplug, man!” I ventured.

My cock pressed upwards from the heat in my lap. Maybe I wanted him to be forced to watch us perform our demonic ritual. The Black Mass. I could see him bound, limp, and naked, hanging, like fucking Jesus, from the gawd-damned cross — as we screamed blasphemously … fucked, sucked, and urinated over each other. Devil worship seemed to be the order of the day (and night). I was leaking precum in my pants at Father Tony’s obviously discomfort.

”It’s not just his feminine ways. The boy just isn’t the same. I know we live in different times and all this LGBTQIA+ things … but serious, I cannot have the only son of a preacher, act with such a limp-wristed demeanour. The cross-dressing. The make-up … he prances around like a complete poofter … and she says nothing about it! Nothing! … it only encourages is faggot-like behavior! I’m almost at my wits end, Conner!”

”He’s a good boy,” I lied, “And your wife loves him very much.”

Yes, I thought she literally loves fucking him — fetching my gooey semen — and the brown urine from his well-fucked ass.

“Yer, yer …” Father Tony hung his head in his hands, “I know … maybe it’s all in my head. I’m not myself. I tell my parishioners to allow themselves to trust their loved ones. Not to be influenced by delusions, paranoia, sophistry … I should take a leaf out of my own book. Maybe I just need to take the time to pray. It always balances me. There is always solace in the good book.”

That piece of shit! I thought. Fuck that! The Bible was only fit to piss and shit on!

”I want to tell you something, Connor. I mean, I know this is going to sound totally bizarre. And it is. I mean, I don’t normally consider these kinds of things … who would? But I have been having these disturbing dreams,” he paused, hesitating to go further, “Well, more like nightmares … about my wife … about Karen having an affair … I mean I know she never would … she’s a good Christian woman … but in this nightmare of mine she’s actually fornicating … with our son …”

He paused. As if saying this statement out loud would cause him to be struck down. I held my breath. I remembered his sermon about The Children of Belial.

“I know how that must sound … it’s a disgusting thought, right? I mean, incest and pedophilia … awful … and in my nightmare, I watch them doing the most depraved things together … like a sordid ritual in our own home … I don’t know where these twisted thoughts come from .. but they really upset me … the image of their naked bodies entwined … mother and son, fornicating … it’s a nightmare that I cannot get out of my mind.”

He held his head in his hands and began to weep. I was almost spurting in my pants at the description. The devil really existed, I thought? What delicious poison his sexual demons have been sowing in Father Tony’s mind! And what twisted pleasure it gave me too … just to hear that! I was really getting off on his mental breakdown.

xxxxx

ACT ELEVEN — THE NIGHTMARE (2,212 WORDS)

”So, what was it? What happened in this nightmare?” I asked, thinking that there was probably nothing more to it than what he’d already described?

”You want to know? I feel so ashamed! You … you think talking about it would help?”

”Of course,” I reassured, “Sometimes, by verbalizing it, it gets it out of your head.”

“I don’t know about that — but I’ll try anything right now! Well, it wasn’t like any other dream or nightmare I’ve ever had. It all started with my suspicions. A nagging feeling that wouldn’t stop. There’s something wrong. Something very wrong. My mind wouldn’t let it go. And so I decided to place hidden cameras around the house. What do I know about cameras and technology? Nothing, right? But in the dream I knew what to do, and I linked them up to my desktop that I use for the church administrational work. It’s just a basic PC, but somehow I know what to do.

“It was later, after my shower, I was in my bathrobe, when my curiosity got the best of me. I mean, it hadn’t been long, maybe a day or so in my dream but I thought I would take a look just to test it out. Was the system working? Were all the cameras doing anything, as they were motion-sensitive? I think Karen was out shopping or something, and my son was at school at the time. So, I sat down and switched in the PC. There was some files generated. Mostly nothing significant. But then, there was one, taken whilst I was away at a church meeting. I noted the time … do you really want to hear this?”

“Go on,” I said.

“It was rather sickening. At first I couldn’t believe it … even in my dream … my son was standing in my wife’s high heels and red lingerie, an open-cup bra and g-string panties. I mean she never wears red stilettos and certainly no sexual clothing, but in my dream I knew they were hers. The camera was perfectly placed. I could see that my son was wearing make-up and was prancing around in from of the couch, as if performing for someone. I could hear this shamanic music playing in the background and the lighting seemed to have a reddish kind of glow … shall I stop?”

“No, it’s important to get this out … what happened next?”

“Well, that’s when it got really weird. He was touching himself. I mean, down there. Stroking his bulge in the g-string, and exciting himself. It was as if someone was watching. He was stroking his nipples that looked puffy like little pubescent breasts, like he’d been taking hormones or something, and at the same time he pulled out his penis and began to stroke it vulgarly … it looked unnaturally long and thick … I’ve never seen a penis that big before … all the time, he was thrusting his hips back and forth to this pagan music …

“I was shocked. But, I cannot explain why, I couldn’t look away. As if this evil was infecting me. The video clip continued with my son dancing and touching himself as if he was possessed. This wasn’t my son, I thought, it was a demon. A demon of temptation. Then, instead of stroking his enormous penis, he bend forward, still dancing, and began to suck its tip. It was so lewd. I wanted to stop watching, but I really couldn’t … my finger hovered over the stop button, but my eyes were glued to this awful performance …

“Just when I thought it couldn’t get any worst, my son … this demon-son began to urinate … his piss shot upwards like a yellow fountain over his stomach, and chest, and into his open mouth … he seemed to be enjoying this disgusting act of drinking his own urine. All the while smiling with his absurdly lipstick-coated-lips and mascara that ran down from the side of his eyes from the wetness of his pee …”

“So, your nightmare involved just your son?”

”No. There’s more. Lots more. I don’t know where these twisted thoughts come from. It really shook me up. I selected another file, that gave a different camera angle … this time I realized that the audience of my son’s perverted acts was … my own wife. It was Karen. I mean, not the Karen I know. She was sitting there on the leather-punched couch watching my son … why didn’t you stop him, I thought … but then I realized that she was orchestrating it … instructing him … her voice was hard to catch … but it was her … tell him what he should … the dancing … the masturbation … the self-sucking … the urine drinking …

“All the while she watched, she was naked on the couch … her hands between her legs … I rubbed my eyes … it was as if she had the sexual organs of both a man and a woman … with the fingers of one hand thrusting in and out of her hairless hole, while the fingers of the other hand, gripping something that seemed to be attached to the topmost pair of her vagina … her anatomy didn’t make sense … unnatural … unholy … unless she was a succubus … a sexual demon … they were The Children of Belial!

”Then, I saw my son draw closer to her .. they laid together sucking at each others genitals … their mouths wrapped around each others penal things … they both made there horrid, primitive grunting sounds as they continued to fornicate … they stopped … only so that demon that used to be my son … could mount the succubus’ penis … sodomizing him at the same time as they tongue kissed …

Father Tony paused.

”Despite my disgust, I found myself aroused in a way that I immediately recognized as sinful. My flesh had reacted to what I had seem on the videos … and I had to stop touching myself …

”I see … I know it’s difficult to share these things,” I remarked, “But it’s just a nightmare … it wasn’t real!”

”I know but it felt so real. As I said, it was bizarre. I mean, usually with dreams and nightmares, one forgets the details, they become vague, and lost as you awaken — but this didn’t — you see I thought this was a possession … even in my dream-like state, I knew intuitively, that the Devil was at work, corrupting my family, so I called an exorcist. In reality, I never knew any exorcists, but of course, in my nightmare, I did, and I described what I had seen and he asked for me to share the pertinent video clips with him over the internet, so that he could assess the degree of the possession and would know what to do in consequence. The exorcist said that we must meet …

”I was scared and confused. Really scared for our moral souls. He arrived almost immediately. Like we talked and then he appeared on the doorstep. I asked him in and apologized for the lateness of the hour. He looked familiar … I mean really familiar … a lot like you …”

”Me?” I didn’t want to laugh, “So, what did the exorcist do?”

“Well, we sat down on the same couch that I’d seen on the video in the very room where the video capture had happened. He asked me to recall my story again, in precise detail, which I did. Then he dropped a bombshell. He said that the videos showed nothing. There was nothing of my son or my wife doing anything lewd or sexual — just a video of them sitting there — watching the television. That couldn’t be right? Of course, I pulled up the same video clips only to find he was right. Nothing. No dancing. No masturbation. No piss drinking. No formication … I was wide-mouthed, maybe relieved somewhat, as if it was all just a dream inside a dream …

“Yer, that must have been a relief … I mean in your dream?”

”Yes and no. He said that, maybe, as a man of God, I had somehow attracted the attention of a demon. That I was somehow infected with this … that it was all in my mind and not real. That, at least, was easier to accept then the perversion of my beloved family. He suggested that we must work fast, that he could exorcise this hidden demon and stop this once and for all. Of course, I agreed. Yes. I thought, I wanted it to end. I wanted to find peace, and with the grace of God Almighty, that I could return back to my life without suspicion, doubt, and certainly without these thoughts of evil attacking me.

“He produced a bag and retrieved a heavy book that resembled a Bible. He donned his vestment stole and told me to drink a potion. I asked what was it for and he said that it would just relax my mind. I drank it and I did feel a kind of euphoria. My mind felt relaxed despite the seriousness of the exorcist’s work. ‘Yes,’ he said, as he blindfolded me, ‘I want you to go back to that moment in your mind, when you saw these explicit images of sin.’ I didn’t have to try hard to recall them, as they were so vivid in my mind — so awful and repugnant — yet I found myself sexually aroused at the same time …

“The exorcist told me to undress. I thought it a strange request. But I needed to trust him and I followed his every instruction, even though I realized, that he would be able to observe my inappropriate excitement. Though I was still blindfolded, I could sense movement around me. It felt as if I was in display. I felt a pair of hands assist me to stand and then place something around my wrists. I wanted to remove the blindfold but soon I found my hands fastened above my head. I couldn’t do anything even if I wanted to. Again, I felt fear, guilt, and shame — as if exposed to the naked truth — all at the same time as an increasing arousal. What the hell was he doing to me?”

“Go on,” I said, “I know it’s not easy, but it will help.”

“… That’s when I heard the voice of my wife, Karen, and my son. They were there in the room. They could see me naked and bound. But still this only seemed to arouse me more. It was as if the humiliation had its own macochistic gratification. I called out to Karen and to Richard. I only heard a diabolical laughter. I felt someone touching my penis, fondling me as I hung helplessly before them. The hands rubbed my turgid flesh and the pleasure seemed intense.

“Was this part of the exorcism? Surely not, I thought, but the pleasure kept building, without my consent. The fingers began to stroke my anus and my testicles. I remember that forbidden tingling sensation. I wanted them to stop but I also wanted more. I felt a warm mouth close around my nipples, sucking them as if I was a lactating mother, whilst the pleasuring of my penis continued, faster and more urgently …

“I began to cry … ‘Stop! For the loved of God! Please stop!’ But of course they didn’t. I was close to orgasm … close to my forbidden release — the hands became a mouth — not one mouth by two. One licking and sucking my anus, I felt a tongue being pushed up inside my rectum. It felt inhumanly long, reaching up to my prostate. The other, wrapped around my cock, sucking me deep into their throat, shallowing the entire length of my penis — milking me for all I had …

“That’s when someone removed my blindfold — it was worse that I ever imagined — I was no longer in our home but was hanging there in the crypt of my own church … the tombs had been vandalized … the walls painted red … I looked down and it was son’s mouth that was wrapped around my cock and my wife knelt behind me. It was her disgusting tongue penetrating me — instead of screaming for them to stop — my hips just bucked at what they were doing to me in the most depraved way …

“The exorcist no longer appeared as a priest performing my salvation … but he appeared as a sexual demon conducting a sordid ritual, right there, in my crypt … his entire body was red in colour, like the fires of hell, his penis stood upright from between his goat-like legs … ‘Join us,’ he commanded, ‘Give in and cum for me. Fill your son’s mouth with your tainted seed. Show me how much you’re enjoying your slut-wife’s analigus … preparing you for my demon-cock to take your virginity’ … I didn’t want to ejaculate but my son’s mouth was the perfect receptical … the oral pleasuring .. the pressure on my prostate … oh, the delicious pleasure … it was just too much …”

Father Tony was weeping after baring his poisoned soul.

“Just a nightmare. There’s nothing to be ashamed of,” I lied.

My cock was ready to explode too with the vivid details that he’d just disclosed. Fuck! I loved hearing it. His embarrassment only intensified the story. I just couldn’t wait to tell Roxi all about this … what dark magick could be in play?

xxxxx

ACT TWELVE — ROXI’S SEDUCTION (2,196 WORDS)

Father Tony had decided to take a short break. A good idea.

He had decided to take a month to go off to an attend an advanced course at the seminary college. Something about theological studies in sacred scriptures and the gospels. It would be a stay-over thing, as the seminary wasn’t anywhere close by. I had encouraged him to really “get away” from all these homely distractions, saying that his mind wasn’t right, that all this was in his imagination. I told him that I would explain everything to Karen and to his son. However, I suggested that his disturbing dream (or nightmare) should be kept to himself, as it would only bring more heartache to everyone — I was such a liar.

His absence would give us ample opportunity to enjoy lots of perverted sex. I was already imagining what I would do with his sexy young boy and deviant wife. Maybe we would have an orgy in his marital bed. Maybe it was a chance for Karen to meet Roxi. Maybe a chance for Dick to meet Ashley. The possibilities rolled in my sick mind.

As it turned out, Roxi was the one that made the first move. I’d told her everything that had happened. Well, she’s pretty perspective. She knew all the sordid details of my encounter with Dick and Karen and she’d even watched our nasty piss-fuck videos together. I’d made a point of telling her about Father Tony’s insidious nightmare — and its exact resemblance to our blasphemous exploits. We had masturbated furiously together talking about it. Roxi was such an evil whore and I loved her so much. A caring and kind person on the outside; yet an evil, succubus demon on the inside.

She immediately suggested a little get together (a kinky soirée maybe) at our place — to get better acquainted — just her, Karen, Dicky, and myself. So that the threesome could become a foursome, maybe?

xxxxx

Holy Week was just around the corner. How appropriate that we show love and compassion for one another. I had hinted to Karen, that while her husband was away, she should dress a lot more slutty. You know, short skirts, no bra and panties. Maybe a schoolgirl outfit? And lots of heavy goth make-up.

It was early that evening when mother and son arrived at our place. Ashley was out, probably fucking, with her effeminate friends. I was happy to see that Karen dressed like a cheap whore in her short halter-neck top that showed off her flat chest and belly piercing. At the same time, little Dicky appeared even more feminine. I was already aroused just gawking at his provocative, little ensemble, that made him look like a little sex-doll.

Roxi and I welcomed them to our humble home and we all sat down for some light refreshments. The details of Father Tony’s nightmare — of The Children of Belial — were foremost in my lustful mind.

At this point, I hadn’t really shared much about my situation with Karen — though we’d been fucking and sucking each other for a while. We’d been too busy indulging in our mutual sexual perversions. Anyway, I felt no specific need to be inclusive with anyone. So, as far as I figured it, Karen and Dicky had no idea about what to expect. Maybe it was to be just a casual get together, relaxing, and blowing off steam (in her husband’s absence).

At the door, Roxi had given Karen a discrete hug. She’d looked over her shoulder at me, at the time, with her evil smile. Dicky had sat obediently next to his mother, while Roxi served us some potent drinks.

“You look a little tense, my dear,” said Roxi to Karen, “I hope you don’t mind, but Connor told me that your husband is away at the seminary … needing some time to pray and sort himself out … disturbing nightmares, or something? But enough about him — how are you feeling my dear?”

Karen frowned.

”Nightmares! Blah! He can be such a difficult man!”

“Why don’t you sit with your uncle?” Roxi suggested, as she shooed away young Dicky, “Your mum needs some one-on-one, female time.”

Dicky did what he was told and came over to sit with me. He went to sit politely next to me but I pulled him onto my lap, and immediately, he could feel my hard cock pressing upwards against him firm little backside. Smiling, he discretely squirmed against me, trying not to be obvious in front of my girlfriend.

”Let me give you a little massage for your tension. My hands are expert at this kind of thing …” said Roxi, slipping behind Karen, so that she could rub her bare shoulders, “I don’t know what it’s like, being married to a priest? But I could imagine, that it takes its toll. So much religious mumbo-jumbo. All that praying. Bible blabber. All that responsibility to his parish. And all those late nights dealing with demanding people with so many expectations.”

”Yes, it’s been a difficult marriage,” answered Karen bluntly, seemingly to enjoying the attention from Roxi as she gently rubbed Karen’s bony shoulders, “He’s a responsible man but there’s times when life can be so frustrating!”

I watched as Roxi lightly massaged Karen’s shoulders, her fingers slipping inside the halter-neck top, touching her flesh in a way that I knew would be arousing as they chatted between themselves.

”I can imagine,” replied Roxi, “You’re such an attractive woman. So young and sexy!” she added, “You must be so dedicated, loyal, and selfless. To be able to put up with such a devout and … sexless man. It’s amazing. I just don’t think I could do it myself. You could have any man … or any woman you want?”

Karen didn’t answer. She closed her eyes and purred as Roxi’s fingers firmly massaged her bare shoulders, upper arms, discretely touching her in secret places. She sighed deeply in satisfaction enjoying the touch of another woman. I knew all about Roxi’s magic touch. Gentle and dismissive at first but slowly becoming more arousing and sensual as the moments passed.

As we watched together, Dicky was rocking more aggressively against my rock-hard erection. He must have thought that Roxi couldn’t see what he was doing, but I knew different. This was exactly what she wanted him to do. I put my hand down the front of his pants and began to fondle his delicious erection, directly — as if she won’t notice — but of course she was fully aware of my deviant incestuous behavior.

”To be honest …” said Karen in return, not opening her eyes, but accepting Roxi’s soothing touch, “Sometimes it all to much … there’s no outlet for …”

She didn’t finish the sentence, when Roxi’s hand began to massage her braless breasts. Slipping down the front of her top. Her fingers made no excuses for fondling Karen’s nipples that had become hard as nails.

”Your breasts are so small, just like a little girl. Pubescent. Your nipples are so hard, my dear. So naughty, no bra or panties. Like a total slut wanting me suck them, right in front of your son …”

Karen seemed rather dreamy. She didn’t rebuff Roxi’s obviously sexual advances. In fact, she sighed and opened her legs wider, inviting by girlfriend to touch her naked crutch. Roxi’s hand hitched up Karen’s short skirt and found the woman’s wet vagina.

”Mmmmm … Conner told me all about your husband’s bizarre nightmares,” Roxi’s voice had dropped to an intimate whisper in Karen’s ear, “His nightmares about your son being a little faggot … a bum-fairy … that you’d encouraged his naughty behavior to attract perverted men, like my boyfriend … is it so wrong that boys want to be girls? To want to suck cock and be sodomized … Young Dicky looked so pretty today, don’t you think?”

Dicky and I watched Roxi’s fingers moving in and out of his mother’s dripping, wet cunt. She moaned, arching her back, and urging for Roxi to finger-fuck her more. We could hear the sound of wet slapping, as his mother, thrust harder against Roxi’s invading fingers.

”As I see it, there’s nothing wrong with incest,” moaned Roxi in Karen’s ear, “Fucking your son is perfectly natural for any mother. I’ve been fucking my young one since she was a baby. It’s the temptations of Satan’s lust. It’s so hot to corrupt young ones, to get them to perform dirty sexual acts upon you, willingly or unwillingly.”

”Aargggggg …” groan Karen, as she fell deeply under Roxi’s sexual magick.

“We are all going to have so much fun together … Satan be praised … wow, your clit is enormous … I want to suck it as much as I want to suck your son’s little prick!”

Karen seemed to be completely enchanted with Roxi’s twisted seduction. Her hips seemed to subconsciously rock back and forth, thrusting harder and harder to meet my girlfriend’s nibble finger-fucking movements. Both of them made ragged breathing sounds and their mutual sexual arousal had become very obvious.

“Yes, Satan be praised. Rub my clitty, make it fat with blood! I want us both to fuck my son, together!”

Karen opened her eyes, and I thought the spell was broken. But then, she turned her head and they began to kiss passionately, mouth to mouth. Little Dicky and I could see their eager, pink tongues, as they snaked in and out, between each others’ painted lips.

”Mommy … seems to like … your girlfriend,” gasped little Dicky, between breaths.

”Yer, they seem to like each other … It’s fucking hot to watch,” I replied.

I pulled down his thin pants and began stroking his hard, little cock between my thumb and forefinger.

“Your mother is such a fucked-up slut,” I laughed, “Your daddy would have a heart-attack, if he saw their lesbo fuck session!”

”I fucking hope he dies! Then, you can be my Pervert Daddy, and we can have pedo-wet-sex every night!”

My cock was almost piercing the light fabric that separated my cock-head and Dick’s hungry anus. I needed to fuck him hard and fast. My hips lifted as I squeezed my gluts, pressing my erection upwards between his ass-crack. Dicky leaned back against me, groaning and moaning, almost as loud as the girls. My hand was a blur of movement, gripping his little boy cocklet, as if I was trying to rip it from his groin.

Looking over, I could see Roxi untie Karen’s halter-neck top, exposing her tiny breasts and thick nipples. Her short skirt came off next. We could see her hairless cunt and thick clit, both glistening with girl cum. Soon the both of them were naked, groping each other, their lips sucking the nipples of their almost flat-chests. Their mouths, hungry for clits and slits, as they devoured each other.

Dicky and I had undressed too. Not wanting to be outdone by the girls. I lifting him quickly over my precum-coated cock and allowed the force of gravity to help me penetrate him, like my little bitch.

”Aarghhhh … Pervert Daddy! Fuck me! Fill me with Satan’s juice! Fuck your pedo son!”

The two girls were on the carpeted floor. Their bodies both glowed with sexual sweat. They quickly slipped between each other’s legs and began scissoring for all it’s worth. Their faces were contorted in perverted pleasure as their erect clits rubbed directly against each other.

”Aghh … Satan be praised! Fuck Christ! Fuck Gawd!” Karen screamed.

Gripping each other’s thighs, they pressed their wet twats hard against each other — squirming, jerking, and almost ready to explode — like there was no tomorrow.

My cock was already balls-deep in Dick’s tight, little anus. I too, was almost ready to shoot my heavy cum-load as little Dicky road me more aggressively. I gripped his tiny shoulders, pressing him down forcefully against my lap — feeling the devilish tightness of his shit-pipe, as it gripped my cock-flesh, and I thrust harder and harder upward inside his filthy bowels.

” Aaargghhh … “ I groaned as I came hard.

xxxxx

The night had continued. Roxi and Karen had become fast-friends and perverted lovers. We all laid about naked on the bed. The television was on — I’d been playing some of the “home-made” movies of the three of us in the background. The sound of Satanic chanting, Pagan drums, and the slapping of wet flesh, inspired our evil desires.

Roxi kissed Karen’s mouth as they both welcomed her son to join them. They kissed each other. Mother and son. Roxi and Dicky. It was beautiful to see. So wicked. So unholy. His young cock was never limp. Always stiff. Even after cumming all over himself. I had lapped up his delicious cock juice — sucking the gooey mess from his stomach and chest.

Now, Karen and I fucked as we both watched Roxi mounting young Dicky, as he lay on his back across the black, silk bedsheets. Karen’s mouth pressed against mine.

“You know, after this, I cannot go back to the way it was … what are we going to do with your cousin, my husband, when he returns?”

It was a good question. I would have to ask Roxi and Ashley for their ideas.

xxxxx

THE END?

xxxxx

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