1. The Devil's Pact, Hell Chronicles Chapter 3: The Bitter Drink


    Date: 8/20/2015, Categories: Fantasy, Anal, Female/Female, Group Sex, Incest, Lactation, Male / Females, Male/Female, Oral Sex, Voyeurism, Author: mypenname3000, Rating: 83.3, Source: sexstories.com

    The Devil's Pact, The Hell Chronicles by mypenname3000 Copyright 2015 Chapter Three: The Bitter Drink Monday, July 28th, 2014 – The Ghost of Paris – Caissa County, ID “We would have,” Marissa shouted, standing naked next to her twin sister. “We want to be with the Ghost. We left our families behind for him. We knew what we was signin' up for.” I stared out at all these women. I had molested them all, reveling in my powers and their pretty bodies. I never thought I would stir up such loyalty and love. I had only been after pleasure. I was a horndog that needed to fuck, and I hadn't cared about the women I molested. But they cared about me. They worshiped me. They were willing to die with me. It touched my heart. I stared out at all of them assembled in the basement. How had I stirred such loyalty in them? Was it my wish? Did they crave the pleasure of my touch this much? Or was it genuine? I think it was genuine. I could see it in their eyes. I had never loved anyone before. I had always just thought of myself, but how could I not return these women's feelings. What a shame it was all about to end. The Theocracy was knocking on the doors. The same bastards that killed me the first time were fixing to do it all over again. We were going to hell. At least the company would be pleasant. I seized the plastic cup full of the cyanide-laced Kool Aid. I didn't hesitate. I brought the cup to my lips. I was invisible. The cup seemed to float before me. I tilted it back, draining every ...
    drop of the sugary, cloying drink. A bitter taste lingered in my mouth. The other women of the Cult drained their cups. My harem. As the poison burned through my body and I collapsed to the ground, I knew I loved these women. I never thought I had the capability to love. But maybe they had rubbed off on me. When I stood in that field, waiting for the sun to rise to make my deal with Lucifer, this is not how I imagined it would have ended. Deidre Cheshire—the woman that had organized the cult and had been the hot librarian I loved to fuck while she helped her patrons—sank down next to me. She rested her head on my chest as darkness swam before my vision. “I love you,” she whispered, her voice thick. “I love you, Scotty Adams.” I was sure it would be the last time I would hear my real name spoken. “Well, sweetness, I reckon I love you and all them purtee, young thangs.” The last thing I saw before I died was her smile. And then I was falling, falling, falling into darkness. But I didn't appear in Lucifer's fires or Astarte's starlight. I was severed free of both my Pacts by these amazing women. Instead, I appeared in a sickly, twisted forest, the trees skeletal, their bark stripped away by the burning wind. I remembered this wind. It had roasted my body, but did not consume me. Now it just tickled. Women and girls appeared around me, chains flickering into being, wrapped tight about their throats and leading back to me. All my favorites were here. The Boon High cheer squad, the ...
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