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

    fuck anyone who pays her. Remember when I told you that there is our family and then there are the others?" The boy nodded. He knew Samil understood fucking. Ahriman had explained it when he first caught him masturbating two years earlier. He hadn't seen fucking or experienced it yet, of course, but he knew what it was. "These two are whores. They are others. I took them from the street where they offered to fuck me for money. You asked me whose blood and pain Chernobog wants. It is theirs, and it is their black souls he wants. You and I will give the black god those souls soon, but first, we must undress completely." Instantly, the boy started taking off his black clothing and folding it neatly. Ahriman took it from him and placed it on a shelf by the door. When the boy was naked, he quickly removed his own clothing. When he turned his back to place his own clothing on the shelf, he felt a hand on his back that traced his scars, and he sucked in his breath and held it. The small hand covered every inch of his back that it could reach, and he slowly let out the breath before turning around and grabbing Samil's wrist. "Stop, my son." Samil looked up at him questioningly and then looked at the whores. He was a smart boy, and it didn't take long before his brain made the connection between the blood and wounds on the whores and the scars on his father's back. His eyes went wide, and he pointed at the bitches with his free hand. "Yes, my son, that happened to me. Not exactly ...
    the same, but close enough. The bitch who gave birth to me hurt me for a very long time until I sent her soul to Chernobog." He kept hold of his son's wrist and led him to Mother. "Hers was the first soul the black god received from me. I was sixteen. Much older than you, but I didn't have a father to show me the way. I had to find it for myself, and I did." He gestured toward the other eighty-six filled drums and the two almost empty ones. "She was just as much of a whore as the rest of these, and Chernobog told me afterwards that I had done well by sacrificing her. And now you will be present when those two are sacrificed." He pointed to the two whores hanging from the chain. He led Samil in front of the blonde whore. "Stand in front of me, my son. Do not be afraid. Her blood will cover you and consecrate you to Chernobog." He picked up the ancient dagger and held it to the whore's throat. "You're a sick fuck," she gasped, and he paused. He stared at her, and she said, "How can you subject a child to your sick perversions?" "He is my eldest son," he answered as if the answer should be obvious. "How else will he learn to satisfy Chernobog's demands if I do not teach him?" He glanced down at Samil. "Watch, my son, and learn how to send a soul to our god." He drew the dagger across the whore's throat with a swift slash and a drawn-out hiss of breath. The blood drenched both of them, and Samil ducked his head just before the hot, sticky, life-giving liquid covered him. He gasped ...
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