1. The Devil's Pact, Hell Chronicles Chapter 2: Sacrificed to Molech


    Date: 8/7/2015, Categories: Fantasy, Blowjob, Male / Females, Oral Sex, Violence, Author: mypenname3000, Rating: 50, Source: sexstories.com

    those terrible urges down, clinging to my love. Her voice whispered in my ear, thanking me for my kindness. I clung to that, to her touch, to the memories we had when we lived. I fought against the oppressive pain of Hell. And then a change happened. The chain about my soul shattered. The coals grew cold. The torment ended. A figure fell into our midst. He was a scrawny being made of dying coals, his fire cooling like the ground around us had. The pain began to fade. I regained my full senses. I stood and Yoon rose beside me. The burnt flesh faded into pink skin, my body healing. I frowned. I didn't heal, my body merely returned to the way I believed it should be. This wasn't the material world. We were in the spiritual. This had been Molech's realm, and he shaped it into the bed of coals to roast his sacrifices upon. But now he lay broken and battered, groaning in pain. Something had happened above. Someone had defeated the demon and robbed him of his powers. A great, powerful hatred filled me. The other sacrifices rose, the fresh ones looking around, some with hatred on their faces, others fear. Many ran, fleeing the blackened skeletons cackling with madness. The skeletons fell on Molech, tearing at his coal flesh. He screamed and howled as his victims feasted on him. The women that stayed, the citizens of my city of Tacoma, watched with obvious glee as their rapist and murder was brutalized. “What do we do?” I whispered, holding my wife's healed body. She looked around. ...
    A great, searing wind blew across the coals, reeking of sulfur. Molech was defeated, his power broken, but we remained condemned into Hell. “You need to lead,” she whispered. “There has to be other horrors down here. You're the Mayor. These are your citizens. Lead them.” “How can I?” I swallowed hard, looking around at the blasted world. The coal beds stretched for miles, roaming with blackened skeletons, the victims of Molech who had been driven mad by eons of torment. The fresh women that had fled were seized by the twisted victims, pulled down and savaged by charred, bony fingers. Fear clutched me. The victims had been tormented for so long, they had forgotten their humanity. And we were surrounded by them. I had to be strong. My will had reshaped my body, perhaps I could accomplish more. I swelled up, my body growing stronger. I was the Mayor of Tacoma. I had led a city of 203000 people. And my leadership was still needed. “Ladies,” I bellowed. “We have been freed from our tormentor. Your rapist had been defeated and is being brutalized, but now what do you do?” He pointed at the women that fled and the horrors stalking around them. “Will you flee into the night to be victimized again? Will you stand alone while the terrors of Hell make easy pickings of you?” It was like being on the stump again, speaking before rotary clubs, PTA meetings, and town hall meetings. “What are you saying?” asked a strawberry-blonde woman, her arms folded beneath her naked, pierced breasts. ...
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