1. Ahriman: The Evolution of a Serial Killer 17


    Date: 8/19/2015, Categories: Dark Fantasy, Anal, Blowjob, Consensual Sex, Cruelty, Fisting, Hardcore, Horror, Murder, Slavery, Spanking, Violence, Written by women, Author: gl0771, Rating: 75, Source: sexstories.com

    He stood at the back door and watched his children play. He felt the familiar twinge of discontent as he thought of all he had missed out on as a child, and he clenched his fists as fury filled him. Fury because of what Mother had done to him and had others do to him, and fury because his father left him to her. He knew he was scowling, and he tried to stop, but it wasn't happening. Nine years before, he had fenced in the entire estate with a ten-foot high wall topped with a foot-high electric fence. The driveway was now barricaded with steel gates and an intercom system so that he would have no more surprise visits on his doorstep like the one from that cop looking for Kaneez. His children had the run of the backyard, and at the moment, ten-year-old Samil was jumping rope with his nine-year-old brother and sister, Karawan and Aglaeca. The boys were holding the rope while their sister jumped, and the joy he saw on their faces was enough to calm him somewhat. He was still furious that he had not had the chance to have a childhood like theirs, but he forced himself to bury that thought. What was past was past, and there was nothing he could do about it. His scowl completely disappeared when six-year-old Hecate ran up to him and threw her arms around his legs. She gazed up into his eyes with her own frown. "Papa, what's the matter?" He picked her up with a smile and sat her on his hip. "Nothing, my sweet. Just some bad memories." He kissed her forehead. "Why aren't you playing ...
    with the others?" "I was worried about you. You looked angry again. Why?" A frown started to form, but he caught himself. He tried to never let his children see his anger. That was reserved for the whores downstairs and his slaves when they misbehaved, but for his children he did his best to keep it inside. He was firm with them if they disobeyed, but he never hurt them, and no one else did either. Ever. "As I said, Hecate, bad memories. Memories that make me angry to think about." Her arms went around his neck, and she laid her blonde head on his shoulder. "I'm sorry, Papa." Then she pulled her head up and smiled at him. "Put me down, please." He did so, and she took his hand, tugging him toward the yard. He chuckled and followed her. "Where are we going?" "To make some good memories. If you have enough good ones, maybe there will be no more room for the bad ones." It was a lovely thought, but he knew it would never happen. His memories plagued him, especially at night. His dreams woke him, drenched in sweat and gasping for breath, often flailing out at Kaneez, at least once a week. That was less often than when he lived with Mother or alone, but they would never go away completely. The eighty-seven drums and heads lining the expanded ritual room proved that. The two whores hanging from its ceiling proved it. The fact that Chernobog still spoke to him regularly and demanded his sacrifices of blood and pain proved it. Nevertheless, he let his daughter lead him to the circle of ...
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