Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 Note: The following is fiction.  The characters in this story have been
made up.  The content of the story is not representative of the writer's
beliefs, opinions or attitudes.  This is story is intended for adult
entertainment only.
Codes: GLBT themes, Incest, Cohesion, Corruption, Lolita, NC, Rape,
Sadism, Pedophilia, Snuff, MC, Demons, Evil themes

   SATAN'S DAUGHTER 2

   Part 2 for my dearest friend `Sandra in Hell'; you are truly Satan's
Daughter.  Thanks for being an inspiration.  Hope this second installment
is up to your expectations!  As requested it is now in first person and the
level of cruelty and debasement is extremely high . . .  so be warned.

   SATAN'S DAUGHTER - CHAPTER 4 (2,440 WORDS)

   So here I am, pretty little Sally, at the St.  Mary's Home of Peace. 
Can you believe it?  I can smell death and desperation in here - all these
old fucking cunts waiting for the final day to arrive.  They even have a
little chapel for the `cremation' services - how convenient.  Well, let me
explain, it's all part of the so-called school outreach program, to teach
wayward little brats like me; as if it is going to somehow rehabilitate my
behavior?  Other `wayward' kids think that it as punishment . . .  I see it
as an opportunity!

   "Hello everyone.  My name is Sally . . .  Sally Johnson.  I am twelve
years and two months old.  I have long brown hair and hazel eyes.  I am 4'
6" tall and though I am short for my age, my mum says that I will one day
be a model, because I have nice legs and a pretty face.

   "I live with my mum, Eve, and dad, William.  My mum is short too.  She
wears glasses and has nice blond hair.  She says that she is twenty-five,
but I know she is really thirty-five.  My Dad works for the council and is
five years older than mum.  He drinks a lot of beer and has a big belly.  I
have a little brother, Peter, who will be eight years old next month; and a
baby sister, Elisa, who has just turned six.

   "I like school because of I have nice teachers, like, Mrs.  Blackthorn,
who teaches me religious education.  She tells me all about Jesus and God,
about heaven and about the angels.  She warns me about being bad, because
there is this evil man that is called the Devil and he will take my soul to
a very hot place called Hell . . ."

   "Well, thank you Sally for that interesting introduction." Said my
religious education teacher Mrs.  Blackthorn, fidgeting with her billfold
and speaking with more than just a hint of haste and sarcasm.

   She is quite `interesting' herself.  The fucking narcissist . . . 
preaches to us about the virtues of goodness, about the teachings of the
Bible.  So, let's start with INVIDIA (envy) . . .  she could never be happy
with her lot in life; forever saying to her brow-beaten husband about the
neighbors bigger house, their newer car, their sexier image . . .  and best
of all, criticizing their horny little daughter, while she secretly
masturbates with Sapphic incestuous fantasies of the her and her own
daughter . . .  her envy was like poison in her bloodstream, she believes
that she deserved better and now it is boiling out in a myriad of
vindictive little things.  But, I digress . . .  let me tell you about the
mischief at hand in St.  Mary's Home of Death.  I watched as Mrs. 
Blackthorn turned to address all the kids in our group.

   "Now, you all have been allocated a resident room each.  You will talk
to the your resident or residents; get to know them; read to them; clean
their room; help them wherever you can . . .  now, Sally, this is your
first time, I suggest you talk to Sister Maria, she one of the nuns at St.
Mary's.  Go and find her in her office and she will allocate you a
resident."

   I found Sister Maria.  Sixty-five years old.  Cloistered nuns who had
taken her oath when she was very young and still in her prime . . .  her
philosophy is that the work of the Lord could be achieved without haste! 
She had fallen fast asleep at her desk.  The first thing I noticed was that
she was porker fat - grossly over weight . . .  even just sitting there she
was sweating profusely beneath her shabby black habit, as she tries to
simply breath.  She's a fucking heartache on legs.  Her nasty hairy cunt is
never washed.  She reeked of GULA (gluttony) . . .  another wonderful sin .
. .  I could see that beneath her eyelids as her pupils moved back and
forth in REM sleep.  I run my hand over her pendulous breasts and rub
softly against her hairy areolas, and then closed my eyes.

   The nun stirred in restlessness.  The dimness reassured her that she
hadn't just fallen asleep whilst she was supposed to be on duty.  Whatever
would the Mother Superior think of her constant lethargy?  It hadn't always
been that way, but as the years rolled by and with the constant expansion
in her waistline, it seemed to simply get harder and harder not to dose off
now and then.  The Lord was compassionate.  She felt small hands pressing
against her shoulder as she continued to lay face down.  The tiny hands
moved in small semicircles relieving muscle tension and relaxing her
further.  Massage.  She must have fallen asleep whilst being massaged. 
That was it.  That was the explanation, a soothing massage.  As her mind
relaxed so did her body.  She felt lotion being applied and the smell of
lemongrass.  The repetitive music sounded Indian or Thai.  She couldn't
quiet place it.  She didn't care to work that hard.  The hands moved down
her naked broad back, pressing, rubbing and stimulating her torso.  Lovely.
More please.  Just like that.  She felt the small fingers on her naked
thighs, as they kneaded the fullness of her cottage cheese legs, the
feeling was incredibly relaxing and rejuvenating.  She opened one eye, and
could make out the blurred figure of a young girl.  Was she naked?  Without
her glasses, everything looked so blurred.  Mmmmmm, nice blur.  The girl's
fingers were expertly manipulating her naked buttocks, pressing the deep
fatty body tissue against her what little muscle there was there.  She had
never been massaged there before.  It felt strange, but she didn't want to
stop the feeling.  Nice young girl.  Nice massage.  The nun let out a
subconscious moan as the girl's fingers tips grazed ever so slightly
against the rim of her hairy anus and the edge of her sweaty perineum.  She
parted her thighs inviting further massage there.  No hesitation.  Nice
fingers between her buttocks.  Lovely feeling makes me wet.  The fingers
made no doubt about their destination as they rub directly over her anus
and vagina simultaneously.  Naughty hands.  Touching my vulva.  Must stop
them.  But I just can't be bothered.  What a sinful thing . . .  but the
feeling was so taboo . . .  nobody will know . . .  fingers inside me now .
. .  oh yer!  Fingers inside me!  Up me!  In me!  Oh!  Oh!  Pressing into
my wetness.  She knows that want it.  She is kissing me down there . . . 
such a naughty mouth . . .  kissing my anus.  Mouth!  Oh!  A tongue
licking! Oh!  More fingers . . .  they're making me so fucking horny . . .
rubbing me and giving me sinful thoughts . . .  that's it press harder . .
. my clit, that's it rub my clit . . .  something hard . . .  oh!  God! 
Something blasphemous!  Its my crucifix . . .  holy fuck, she's pressing
Jesus, in my asshole . . .  fingers, mouth, tongue . . .  more . . .  fuck
me with the crucifix . . .  fuck me with Jesus!  Oh sweet young child . . .
lick me out . . .  lick me anus . . .  you pubescent whore . . .  make me
cum . . .  make me cum hard!  Fuck my cunt with Jesus!  Make me a whore for
Satan . . .  fuck me Satan!  Fuck my hairy stinking cunt with your evil
cock!  Fuck!  Fuck!  Arghhhhhhhhhhhhh . . .

   xxxxx

   I walked alone down one of the long corridor with doors to the left and
to the right.  This was the one.  It had the name, Mrs.  Edwina Irving
written in broad felt tip marker on a piece of cardboard slipped into a
holder next to the door.  She won't be there too long.  In my mind I saw
the letters form the word, IRA (wrath) . . .  a particularly nasty sin.

   Mrs.  Edwina Irving, aged seventy-three, lay clutching her rosary beads
and bible whilst lying semi-reclined on her hospital-style bed next to the
oxygen tank.  Her breathing was short and sharp . . .  each breath taken as
if it were her last.  I stood besides her bedside and gently stroked her
damp brow.  She shivered as I touched her . . .  a strong shudder that
seems to go from right from her head to her toes.  I closed my eyes, as I
could feel her in the grips of a strange dream or maybe a nightmare . . .

   "Excuse me Miss.  Excuse me." Said the little girl with an apologetic
voice as she pulled at Edwina's sleeve.  Edwina looked down at the naked
girl, no longer than twelve.  She looked as if she had been crying and
seemed to be very lost.  Her nakedness seemed to worry Edwina, as she
looked as if she had been sexual abused.  There was something about the
situation that suggested that it had a dream-like quality.  That was it -
she was just dreaming.  All her pious life she had tried to live by the
ways of the Lord . . .  her place in heaven, secured by the endless
selfless acts and Good Samaritan deeds of her long life.  "I'm very
scared." Said the little girl, her eyes searched Edwina's face for a hint
of sympathy and salvation.  Edwina looked at her dirty feet and matted
hair. She smelt of promiscuous evil.  Precocious little slut, she smelt of
sex and semen.  Everything about this little girl screamed sexually active.
The little harlot probably brought it upon herself.  She was probably
promiscuous and tempting some weak-willed man.  The Lord moved in
mysterious ways - maybe she needed to be punished, disciplined and brought
to see the errors of her slutty little ways . . .  Else she become nothing
but a cheap hooker . . .  a junky nightwalker on the streets, shooting up
Crack and leading our good men astray.  The men weren't to blame - it was
the blatant sexuality that the devil used to trick them.  Edwina shook
herself and reminded herself that it was all just a dream.  Punish her . .
. she's nothing but a worthless harlot . . .  this is the way of the Lord .
. ."You're safe with me.  What's your name?" Edwina bent down on one knee,
so that they were both eye level.  The filthy little thing had no breasts,
thin and waifish, her vagina was hairless, and looked distressed from being
abused.  Edwina was disgusted but intrigued at the same time.  "Sally."
Said the girl, her eyes dipped in shame from guilt.  Yes, Edwina felt this
tiny whore's guilt - she needed to be shown the errors of her ways.  She
needed Edwina.  "You're safe with me." She repeated, but as the words left
her mouth, she grabbed the girl by the hair and pulled her close to her
side.  "PLEASE . . .  You're hurting me . . .  please." Cried the little
girl.  Her hands reaching up to Edwina's, but were far too weak to break
Edwina's determined grip.  "Come with me." It's just a dream.  It's not
real.  But Edwina felt her heart rate race with adrenaline and the
prevailing thought that . . .  no one would ever miss this child . . .  she
was trash . . .  human waste, nothing more . . .  she was invisible . . .
Edwina could do anything she liked to her . . .  anything she desired . . .
and nobody would be the wiser . . .  she would be doing the girl a favor,
yes, by reforming her immoral and disgraceful ways . . .  the Lord knew her
real motives . . .  yes, dream or not, it was her Christian duty to punish
her.  As the thought solidified, so did the means . . .  she quickly
secured the naked girl, arms out-stretched, legs also pulled wide.  Like
the girl, Edwina found herself naked with only her long Rosary and crucifix
around wrinkled old neck, standing alone in a place that said, isolation,
hidden, secret . . .  no one will ever know . . .  yes, punish her . . . 
whip the hide from this cheap harlot, show her the way to God!  Edwina took
the short riding crop that lay on the table next to a number of implements
of punishment, and sadist sexual abuse.  She eyed the obscene black dildo
strap-on.  Just a strange dream.  No consequences.  Just a dream.  You can
do anything you want - no limits.  "Beat me Miss.  I've been very bad.  I
played with myself in front of them . . .  I asked for it Miss.  Beat me
Miss.  Beat me and make me bleed." Yes, I will beat you, thought Edwina,
standing just out of the field of vision of the restrained girl . . .  as
she thought about it, she pressed her crucifix against the wetness of her
flabby old cunt.  She moaned lewdly.  No consequences.  No limits . . . 
Edwina brought the leather riding crop down upon the small girl's back . .
. whistling through the air it make a long red mark against little Sally's
back . . .  accompanied by a scream of agony . . .  oh yes, the bliss of
the Lord's punishment . . .  she could feel her wetness and constriction of
her vagina muscles around her crucifix as it reached up inside her . . . 
another pain lash, crossing the first, another across her little chest and
another across her exposed vagina . . .  that will teach you!  Marked as a
whore!  Edwina's fingers pressed against her clitoris, harder and faster
with every savage blow . . .  "Aaghhh . . .  please . . .  beat my pussy .
. .  punish me for my waywardness and cock worshipping ways.  I've been so
bad Miss . . ." cried little Sally . . .  "Repent sinner!  Repent you child
whore!" Cried Edwina whipping the girl again and again . . .  as she
wriggled towards her own private ecstasy . . .  her crucifix pressed harder
and harder into her needy old cunt . . .

   SATAN'S DAUGHTER - CHAPTER 5 (2,555 WORDS)

   I walked across the hallway and slipped into the room of Mr.  Lawrence.
William Howard Lawrence was a sickly old pervert who loved little girls -
the younger the better.  He was deemed to require full time care and had
been institutionalized in St Mary's for over two months.  In the past
couple of weeks his health had determinate rapidly and additional suffered
from memory lost - sometimes forgetting who or where he was.  He eyed me
lecherously from his hospital bed.

   "Hi Mr.  Lawrence.  My name is Sally . . .  Sally Johnson.  I am twelve
years and two months old.  I have long brown hair and hazel eyes.  I am 4'
6" tall and though I am short for my age, my mum says that I will one day
be a model, because I have nice legs and a pretty face."

   "Let me see your nice legs then Sally.  Show them to me.  Show me how
you model . . ." His hand was already beneath the bedding that moved
conspicuously as he watched me pretend I was a model on the catwalk.  Mr.
Lawrence drooled - as he undressed me with his eyes.  Yes definitely,
LUXURIA (lechery) . . .  my favorite of all sins.

   "You remind me of my granddaughter . . ." He said throatily.  He had
lusted after her for years.  Every night he would wildly masturbate him
self with fantasies of her nubile little body.  Then when he got the
opportunity, he molested her beneath the bathwater, under the pretext of
washing her private parts.  He had got away with it.  Nobody knew his
perverted desires.

   "Oh Papa it feels funny when you touch me between my legs." Said his
nervous little granddaughter as William presses the material of the rough
hand towel back and forth against her erect clitoris as it peeped out of
its fleshly little hood.  She may not understand what he was doing, but he
certainly did . . .  and reveled in it.  Corrupting her was such utter
bliss; a dark fantasy finally come true.  "Oh!  Oh!" Exclaimed the naughty
little girl obviously enjoying her grandfather's salacious touch.  "Am I
hurting you?" He asked, leadingly.  "Do you want me to stop?" The girl was
moving her hips wantonly under the waterline in response to her perverted
old grandfather's fondling.  "Oh!  Oh!" She moaned, unable to respond, as
the pleasure of her clitoral orgasm began to build.  "Do you like it?" She
nodded without saying a word.  "Do you want more?" She nodded again, this
time raising her hips above the waterline, so that the old pervert could
clearly see she was enjoying him intimately touching her.  "Oh!  Papa . . .
do it faster.  It makes me feel all ticklish!" Groaned little pre-teen as
her hips fucked back and forth.  "Why don't you join me in the water . . ."
Reluctantly, he temporarily ceased the masturbation of his eager young
granddaughter.  He slipped from his clothing and looked in the mirrored
wall of the bathroom.  He smiled at his reflection as it loomed over the
delicate young girl, her purity and smooth whiteness contrasted his
weathered skin and deep wriggles.  His cock stood upright and pulsed like
never before, spurred by her keenness to participate in this incestuous
liaison made it feel even more illicit.  It was time for her to pleasure
him.  He had taken his time.  Whilst alone with her, she had been
interested to learn about the net and he had guided her to a few of his
favorite places, where inter-generational child porn had been the dominant
theme.  She had been shocked at first . . .even scared.  But he told her
that it was their secret place, never to reveal it.  She had liked the
clandestine relationship.  Now William climbed into the lukewarm soapy
water and knelt between her open spread legs.  "Do it like they do in the
pictures I showed you . . .  kiss Papa's big thing!" The naughty girl
grinned widely and reached forward so that she held his cock in her small
hands like she had seem in so many of the pornographic images; leaning
forward she first kissed its angry mushroom head; then began licking it
like a lollypop.  "That's it baby . . .  mmmmm . . .  that's so hot!" She
giggled and sucked on her grandfather's cockhead as he continued to
encourage her.  "Oh, baby, that's so hot!  Suck it harder, keep rubbing it
as you suck . . .  that's it, and get her tongue around it!  Oh!  Yer! 
Hot! . . .  keep going, suck harder, take more it into your mouth . . . 
just like the little girls in the video." He was close.  He couldn't hold
back much longer.  He wanted it to last, but it was just too crazy . . . 
he held her head in his large hands as he started to fuck her face.  She
squirmed a bit.  Obviously uncomfortable with the amount of her
grandfather's cock that was now pushing against the back of her throat . .
. he could feel his balls about to explode with an overflow of pent-up
semen . . .  she struggled against his vice-like grip, but his orgasm was
about to erupt and he wasn't about to let her go anywhere, in fact, he
pushed his cock further into her throat and she began to gag . . .  Oh yer!
Fucking swallow it!  Fucking choke on it bitch!  Aaarrrghhhhhh! . . .  his
entire body was overwhelmed in the power of his orgasm - semen spurted
forth with inhuman quantity . . .  streaming from the sides of mouth, out
of her nose . . .  she finally escaped his grip just as more squirted from
the eye of his cock across her face and neck . . .

   xxxxx

   "There you are." Said Mrs.  Roberta Blackthorn as she caught up with me
lying on the grass of the bushy gardens of the expansive property.

   "Yes Miss.  This place smells funny."

   "Yes I know what you mean.  I also need to get some fresh air.  Old
people.  Dying.  It's all a bit bleak."

   "Miss.  Can I ask you a question?"

   "Of course."

   "When these old people die . . .  will they all go to heaven?"

   "If they have lived a righteous life; they will be judged at the gates
to heaven by St.  Peter.  Don't you pay attention in class?"

   "Oh yes Miss.  I was wandering how he does that?"

   "Well.  I suppose St.  Peter has a record of their past deeds.  Good and
bad."

   "Like a book, Miss?"

   "But what if they just think bad things?"

   "Well, St.  Peter has a record of that too."

   She watched her husband's car back out of the driveway.  She waited just
long enough to know that he was not coming back.  That slight chance of
discover . . .  she had to be sure.  Her daughter, Crystal, looked
anxiously at her mother; while Roberta just smiled evilly back at her
daughter - it was the look of someone knowingly corrupt and completely
rehearsed their vice.  A beautiful and malicious fantasy brought to life.
Yes, she thought, finally she would get back at her next-door neighbor for
their shear audacity to live and breath . . .  she hated them all with a
vengeance.  She hated everything about them.  She hated Mrs.  Yale's
self-affirming declarations of their religious standing in the community.
Too fucking good for this neighborhood.  But that was about to change.  She
would make them as sinful as her.  Today, with the help of her own
incestuous little daughter, they would seduce Mrs.  Yale's smug little
bitch of a child, Emily, and both her and Crystal would ride her face in
Sapphic triumph!  "Call her," said Roberta.  "I have," answered Crystal. 
"She'll be over shortly." Crystal had been over the Yale's house before,
for sleepovers, and had a strong impression that their daughter was
sexually interested in her, though not active, fearing her parents and
their pious attitude towards anything sexual.  In Emily's mind, they
surmised that sexual thought and religion ran opposed in every aspect.  Her
churchly education and strict upbringing would no doubt be brought into
question during their dual seduction.  But she would succumb.  Just knowing
that Emily was to be reduced to a lesbian skank made the world of
difference - Emily, the fuck toy for mother and daughter to abuse from this
day forward.  There was no doubt in Roberta's mind and she would make sure
that she had her trophy!  The doorbell rang.  The moment had arrived.  They
welcomed Emily in and wasted no time.  First Crystal would suggest a
harmless game of truth or dare.  Roberta had set-up a video to record their
game . . .  a video that she would use to blackmail the little bitch into
becoming their plaything.  She would do anything they wanted . . .  just so
that she would not show the videotape to her parents - this would be a fate
worse than death to Emily . . .  they would have her just where they wanted
her.  It all went as planned, in no time Emily was kissing her school
friend intimately as the camera caught all the action.  Roberta masturbated
as she zoomed in . . .  and then backs out again, so that nothing was left
to the imagination.  Kissing became petting, petting became finger-fucking,
finger-fucking became oral sex . . .  Roberta had already cum several times
watching the two beautiful young girls pleasuring each other . . .  Crystal
tongue flicked over Emily's pussy and further up towards the delicate
flower of anus.  Emily moaned loudly in urged her school buddy to
tongue-fuck her rectum.  Roberta could see the vaginal juices dripping over
her daughter's face.  Another orgasm swept through her as she muffled her
own cries of ecstasy in case she was discovered before their blackmail
video was complete . . .  now the two girls where scissored together, their
clits frantically rubbing together . . .  this would be the moment . . . 
the moment when Roberta would `catch them' at it . . .  reveal the video .
. .  the begging and pleading would follow . . .  and then the realization
that she had no choice but to do everything that Roberta wanted . . . 
today and everyday henceforth . . .  or else the tape would be send to her
parents, her priest . . .  there would be no way back!

   "Sorry Miss, did you say something?" Asked Sally.

   Mrs.  Blackthorn snapped back into the moment.  "No.  I didn't.  Sorry,
I must have been daydreaming for a moment.  What's the time?  Good
gracious, it's getting late.  Need to gather you kids up and get ready for
the school bus."

   "Are we coming back tomorrow?"

   "There will be something big happening at the Home tonight, so, we will
be back to regular classes tomorrow."

   "Big Miss?"

   "Don't worry yourself about it.  Now get back to the concourse, while I
round up the others."

   xxxxx

   The way to the concourse at the front of the Home, I made a short pit
stop at the infirmary, where patients needed round the clock attention.  I
watched unnoticed as the infirmary doctor made his final rounds.  Dr
Benjamin Green was an ambitious man, who hated his work at the Home of
Peace.  He hated the elderly.  He hated their sicknesses.  The truth was
that this was not a popular situation, but the money was very good.  Better
than good, but he loathed everything.  He had wanted his own private
practice in a good neighborhood.  He dreamed of the sexy young patients,
both male and female, that would be ripe for bawdy seduction . . .  a far
cry from the decrepit old cronies in his ward.  His greed, AVARITIA blinded
him.  The fact was, he was not particularly good at his job or caring for
his patients.  As far as he saw it, they were going to die anyway . . . 
just a matter of how and when.

   Standing by the door to the refectory, I pretended to be lost.  Dr
Green's eyes lit up as he noticed me.  His eyes scanned the room, making
sure that know one else had noticed me, and then returned to gloat at my
charade of innocence and naivety.  I was a dream come true; a beautiful
distraction from the monotony of this awful place.

   "Can I help you?" His words did not match the look across his face that
really said `Can I undress you and stick my big throbbing cock in your
mouth and pussy' . . .  I fainted and he caught me gracefully in his greasy
big hands . . .  his thoughts raced ahead of him self as my limp lithe body
fell against the pressing bulge in his pants . . .  I could smell his
arousal, or was it the dried cum stains inside his disgusting underwear . .
.  I allowed myself to flow into his thoughts . . .

   I was still lying in his sweating arms, but either of us was dressed.  I
could feel his erection pressing against my side.  We were still in the
infirmary, but his fantasy infirmary was grotesque . . .  all around us
were the macabre bodies of partially mutilated patients, some dangling from
meat hooks, other human carcasses hung above a old white enamel bathtubs
with scalloped legs . . .  I could see that it was half filled with a dark
viscous liquid that was obviously the blood he had drained from his
victims. Dr Green . . .  feed the dead patients to the living?  You little
devil!  From death comes life, from old comes the reborn . . .  He carried
me to the edge of the bath and then laid me into the red broth.  Vampiric
games . . .  a lust for blood or blood for lust . . .  he admired me, as I
stirred, making it obvious that I was enjoying his lewd attention as well
as the perversity of his dream . . .  As I knelt up in the bath, he pierced
the squirming body of a woman, her blood spurted like a shower over me . .
. I soaked my hands in blood and reached for his cock, I masturbated him
slowly and deliberately, smothering his genitals in the bloody fluids . . .
drink my darling . . .  drink the blood . . .  so we may share a blood kiss
. . .  he wanted me to revel in it, to masturbate myself whilst immersed in
it . . .  drench myself in it . . .  look at the beauty of death . . .  the
corpses call for sexual gratification . . .  necro-baby they want us to
copulate for them . . .  show me your desires to fornicate with the dead .
. .  let us lay in their warm entrails and worship the devil together . . .


   My work was here . . .  he was already a soul for my father . . .

   SATAN'S DAUGHTER - CHAPTER 6 (2,091 WORDS)

   Emily Yale smiled at the new girl.  It was a warm and inviting smile. 
The new girl in her second year human biology class was of yours truly . .
. Sally.  And I guessed I must have smiled back, because at lunchtime she
came and sat with me at the rear of the schoolyard.

   "You're new right?" Asked Emily.

   "Yes.  My name is Sally, what's yours?"

   "Emily.  Emily Yale.  You're in my human biology class right?"

   "Yup.  Don't you hate it?" I added.

   "Yer.  Most of it is boring crap, but not as bad as Math and English -
at least you get to hear about sex stuff."

   We both giggled.

   "Did you hear that Anthony got a stiffy in class, when we did gametes
and fertilization?"

   "No.  Did you see it?"

   "No.  He was sitting on the other side of the class that day."

   "You have a lot of homework?" I asked.

   "I never do homework; it drives my dad round the twist!" Obviously Emily
was an underachiever.  How I like ACEDIA (sloth) . . .  "Actually, I can't
wait to leave school and go on the dole."

   "I like your make-up." I complimented her.  She looked nicely made up.
Make-up and hair was definitely more her forte than education.

   "Thanks.  Do you want me to do you a makeover?  I mean, not here.  Maybe
you'd like to come over after school?  My house is only just up the road."

   "Cool.  I haven't got to be back early, as my parents both work."

   "So do mine.  We'd have the place to ourselves." She blushed suddenly.
But quickly turned away, as if her attention was distracted.  I said
nothing.

   "See you at the main gate then at 3.00 PM?"

   "Cool."

   xxxxx

   I could see her waiting for me from a distance.  She actually looked a
little impatient.  Maybe she thought I might have changed my mind.

   "Hi.  Cool, you came." She said brightly.  Maybe there was touch of
surprise?  Maybe she thought I would change my mind or chicken out?  She
picked up her school and bag and we started walking in the direction of her
house.

   "Yer.  Can you really make look as sexy as you?" I asked putting out a
little bate.  She laughed uneasily as we both walked briskly in the
direction of her house.

   "Sexy?  I don't think I'm really sexy." We linked arms as we walked.

   "Yes definitely.  So do you have a boyfriend?"

   "No.  Not really interested in boys right now." She replied without
hesitating.

   "Girlfriend? . . .  " My voice trailed off.  Emily picked up on my
pseudo-nervousness . . .  taking it as a sign of my possible interest in
her.  Her arm gripped me noticeably tighter.

   "No, never met anyone I liked enough . . .  You?"

   "Well, I'm new here."

   "Where you lived before.  Did you have a boyfriend?"

   "No.  I've experimented before . . ." Again I deliberately sounded a
little awkward.

   "With . . .  boys?" She asked in a whisper, though nobody was in
earshot.

   "With, you know . . .  both."

   "Wow!  You're bi?"

   "Yer.  Is that a problem."

   "No . . .  of course not.  It's really cool.  It's just at this school,
nobody I know, just comes out and says it, even if they wanted to . . . 
the nuns would have a fit!"

   "Don't tell anyone.  Can you promise to keep it a secret?"

   "Yer . . .  of course.  I promise Sally!"

   We arrived at Emily's house.  She fumbled nervously as she put the key
in the lock and finally opened the front door.  We walked into the hallway
and dropped our school bags by the coat stand.  It was an expensive looking
place, very modern.  The Yale's obviously had no shortage of money.  The
walls where covered with religiously themed artworks.  On the hall mantle
piece there was a wooden crucifix and another larger one placed on the
living room wall was visible from the hallway.  In the privacy of her home,
she smiled at me again expectantly . . .  obviously knowing my sexual
interest in her had already caused some chemical reactions.

   "I like you Emily.  You make me very horny!" I pulled her towards me.

   "I like you too." She answered anxiously.  I kissed her mouth.  Dry lips
against dry lips.  She smiled . . .  like the first smile she had given me
in the classroom.  "I've . . .  never done anything with anyone before . .
. with a girl or a boy."

   "Well, Emily, it's the same sweet, just a different wrapper!"

   I kissed her again, pulling her closer to me, more urgently.  My hands
guided her, so that I pressed our flat chests and protruding groins,
frotting against each other through our school cloths.  She kissed me back
and though our mouths remained closed, we pressed firmly against each
other.

   "You taste nice." She remarked.  "Let's go up stairs.  You know, away
from the pictures of Jesus and Mary." Emily suggested.

   "You don't like to make out . . .  in front of Jesus?" I asked.

   "He's kind of creepy.  Watching you, if you are sinning and all . . ."

   "Doesn't it give you an extra thrill to do sinful stuff?"

   "I . . .  don't know . . ." Emily was smiling, but she was also fretting
about it.  As if even talking about sex and religion in the same sentence,
would make her squirm with painful discomfort.

   "Try it Emily.  Let's make out in front of fucking old Jesus.  Let him
watch us sin together . . .  it turns me on!" I slipped my hand beneath her
school blouse, rubbed her braless breasts and kissed her on the mouth as I
felt her up.  As my hand passed across her chest, I could feel the mixture
of tenseness and excitement.  This time when I kissed her, I pushed my
tongue between her lips.  We tongue kissed each other slowly as she
gradually dropped her guard.

   "See . . .  doesn't it feel crazy sexy to do nasty stuff in front of
Jesus and his whore mother?"

   "That's blasphemous!" Emily said as she playfully slapped me.  "You
shouldn't say stuff like that . . .  you'll go to hell!"

   "I don't care.  I think, if it turns you on . . .  you should . . .  go
on . . .  say `fuck you Jesus, I want lesbo sex will Sally' . . .  go on, I
dare you . . ." I kissed her mouth again as I gently squeezed her hard
little nipples.  She giggled like a naughtily little pre-school kid.

   "Fuck you Jesus.  I want lesbo sex with Sally . . .  there I said it!"
She seemed shocked at herself.  My hand had snaked into her pants and I
could feel the heat coming from within her cotton panties.  Heat was
followed by wetness.  "F-u-c-k . . .  y-o-u . . .  J-e-s-u-s," she groaned
as my finger started to penetrate her tight little pussy.  My finger became
coated in her juices . . .  Emily was very turned on.

   "Wow!  You're so cool.  Now take off your wet pants and rub them on his
face . . .  say `Fuck your mother!  Fuck god!' . . .  do it, you're turning
me on so much."

   Emily removed her damp pants, as I removed mine and both took turns
rubbing them over the picture of Jesus, laughing and tongue kissing each
other.

   "Does it really turn you on?  Because I've always been to scared to do
anything like this, but with you . . .  I'd do anything!  " She suddenly
all vulnerable.

   "Yes it does turn me on.  You've made me so wet.  Not just because you
are so sexy, but because you're like me . . .  I sometime put Jesus in my
pussy . . .  it makes me come so hard!"

   "What do you mean, you put Jesus in your pussy?" Emily looked very
excited.

   I took the crucifix from the mantle piece.  Emily watched, awestruck. 
She was touching herself as she watched.  Retrieving the wooden crucifix
from the mantle, I first rubbed Jesus against my pussy and then licked my
juices from it.  I did it again and offered it to Emily.

   "Taste me Emily . . .  taste my pussy juices on fucking Jesus!"

   She licked the crucifix and smiled; then rubbed it over her own pussy
and offered it to me.  I licked it and then kissed her mouth.  Our tongues
dived back and forth as our fingers pressed against each other's clits.

   "Have you done this with your other lovers?"

   "Yes . . .  and we do more . . .  we all pray to Satan for longer
orgasms!"

   "Oh!  To Satan . . .  and what happens?  Do you get longer orgasms?"

   "Every time!"

   xxxxx

   "Oh Emily, you didn't tell me that you were going to have a friend
over."

   It was Emily's mother.  Mrs.  Hilary Yale was dressed up like she was
expecting the Queen to drop in anytime soon.  She looked embarrassed by her
own daughter.  I could feel the SUPERBIA (pride) in her lifestyle. 
Everything had a place.  And Emily inviting a girlfriend from school,
without prior notice, obviously did not agree with her and her high
standards.

   "We will have to talk about this later."

   I didn't say a word.  Deliberately and purposeful, I just stood next to
Emily.  The both of us looked like we'd been rolling in the hay.  Mrs. 
Yates said nothing further and whispered to Emily that I would see her
tomorrow at school, that we should text each other tonight.  And then I was
gone.

   Mrs.  Yale watched me from the lounge room window.

   "Emily.  Emily come her."

   Emily timidly stood and waited for her mother to turn away from the
window.  She looked deep in thought.

   Mrs.  Yale watched Mrs.  Blackthorn as she walked down the driveway to
the house next door.  That woman was unfit to teach children.  Just look at
her.  She's nothing but a tramp.  She should be cleaning the streets, not
anywhere near her precious daughter.  She would make an anonymous compliant
and get her fired.  The fact they lived next door was bad enough.  Trashy
people belonged in the trailer park.  Not in her street.  Not in her
neighborhood.  Trailing behind her mother was Crystal Blackthorn.  They
were arguing about something that Mrs.  Yale couldn't hear through the
double-glazed glass.  Now there's a true slut.  She's probably got one or
more of those venereal deceases.  If she were her daughter, there would be
none of this nonsense.  She'd not take that girl's lip.  She'd have Mr. 
Yale give her a good thrashing across his knee . . .  beat her while Mrs.
Yale watched . . .  take her pants down . . .  that's if she wore any . . .
Slap!  Slap!  Slap!  She could see it clearly.  The little slut held across
her husband's hairy bare legs.  That's right, you hold her firmly Roger. 
She needs to be punished.  Don't let her move while I paddle her . . .  put
those nasty sticky panties in her mouth . . .  that would stop her
screaming . . .  let her tardy mother watch . . .  her slut daughter . . .
deserved nothing less . . .  that smooth white skin needed to burn red with
the shock of Mrs.  Yale's hands, hitting her over and over, as she cried
pitifully into her own soiled pants . . .  Slap!  Slap!  Slap!  That'll
teach you . . .  keep you lower class people in your place . . .  my
husband's erection pressing upwards again the slut as she lay across his
lap . . .  not his fault, that this slut was trying to gain pity by rubbing
herself against his manhood . . .  what would the Archangels do with these
vermin?  God never meant her to have to put up with neighbors like this . .
.  Roger needs relief . . .  then get the slut to relieve you . . .  for
God's sake that's all she's good for . . .  but let me watch . . . 
mmmmmmmmm . . .  that's it, cum in her face dear, abuse her, degrade her in
front of her worthless cunt of a mother . . .

   SATAN'S DAUGHTER - CHAPTER 7 (2,026 WORDS)

   St.  Mary's Home of Peace was filled with an eerie darkness, Shadows
danced libelously as if gathering in the chapel.  The night was alive with
a furtive evil.  This was now the house of my father.  But there seems to
be some who actually still believe that God gives a fuck!  Their souls
belong to my father.  Even now I envision them all gather naked in the
chapel and await to worship me, as Satan's daughter - to commit gross
indecencies, to openly blaspheme, to fornicate upon the sacred altar and
pray for orgasmic delight in return for their allegiance to the god of the
world, the incestuous father who sodomizes his own children; the sick and
the dying, fornicating with each other in twisted and perverse orgy.

   I entered the small private chapel.  All was sedate.  The gathering of
lost souls sat solemnly in against the uncomfortable wooden pews.  There
was Mrs.  Edwina Irving, Mr.  William Lawrence, Dr.  Benjamin Green, Mrs.
Roberta Blackthorn and her daughter Crystal Blackthorn, Mrs.  Hilary Yale,
Mr.  Roger Yale and their daughter Emily Yale to name the faces that I
instantly recognized.

   They were all dressed in somber black; their mock religious ritual had
transformed the small chapel with white roses and carnations.  Sister Maria
stood in front of the small congregation, leading them all in solemn hymn
over the black polished coffin, as it laid ready for cremation.  Their
voices sounded cheerless and listless - a monotonous blur of religious
lyrics, sung without feeling or emotion . . .  as if going through the
motions . . .  with no commitment, no passion and certainly no belief . . .


   It felt hot and humid as the congregation tried to focus on the nun's
slow lethargic sermon.

   "Perversions of the flesh either accompany or follow idolatry."
Announced Sister Maria over her thick glasses.  "The people built a golden
calf, ate, drank, rose to play, danced and engaging in ritual prostitution.
Later, the idolatrous ceremonies that accompanied the worship of these evil
gods, particularly the worship of Baal and Astarte, involving lewd and
sexually explicit behavior . . .  sexual intercourse was to them a
re-enactment of the fertility cycle in nature, and that such re-enactments
pleased the gods.  Carnal human nature had no arguments against this
floored logic, especially when it satisfied its lusts.  Amen."

   "Amen." Groaned the crowd.  Words like lewd, carnal and lust, seemed to
at last capture their interest.

   "But God decrees, `Whoever commits any of these abominations, of
nakedness and lewdness, shall be punished . . .  `uncovering another's
nakedness defiles the land, and the land will vomit out the inhabitants who
practice it.' God's same punishment will be brought upon the descendants of
Israel today, as pornography, lewdness, and sexual sins continue to
increase uncheck.  The nakedness of our harlotry shall be uncovered!  Amen"

   "Amen," again her references to pornography, lewdness and sexual sins
draw moisture between legs, blood that filled stiffing organs.

   "We shall bear the penalty of our lewdness and our harlotry . . .  we
shall repay for our lewdness, as we shall pay for our idolatrous sins . .
."

   She paused and pushed her dark rimmed glasses up her nose and wiped the
perspiration from her brow.  Her fat hairy cunt needed to be fingered.

   "From Proverbs 22:6 - the Bible calls it `this evil world.' We all
repeat whatever corruption was imposed on us.  People who were abused as
children repeat that behavior when they become adults - abused children are
six times as likely to abuse their own children when they become parents.
The abused become abusers.  We are all material and mortal.  Does God
prepare us for eternal life?  Does he train us a way that will endure for
all eternity?  He says . . .  `Train a child according to their evil
inclinations; let they do their own will, and they will continue in their
evil way throughout their life.' Amen . . ."

   "AMEN!" Again they responded as if they all were excited by the contrary
. . .  they seemed aroused with restlessness . . .  searching for something
. . .  waiting for something blasphemous . . .  something perverted . . .
our congregation was ready.

   It seemed that the chapel temperature had increased by at least ten
degrees in the same number of minutes.  I moved to the front of the
congregation and stood next to Sister Maria.  I opened my blouse and
exposed my flat childish breasts . . .  then removed my school skirt and
exposed by hairless vagina . . .  I raised my hands upwards towards the
huge looming crucifix above their heads . . .  all eyes looked upwards upon
the inverted cross . . .  yes, it was inverted . . .  blasphemously hanging
with the naked Jesus . . .  his cock fully erect . . .  "Is it a dreary
life eternal that you all seek, to live only to die and be reborn in a
tedious heaven?  Is it that our devout lives are given over to a monotonous
and tiresome existence forever and ever?  Or is there not more?  I ask you
look upon me, for I am a sign of the truth . . .  that is embodied in true
beauty of idolatry.  Is there not a place that will be rapturous, blissful
and divinely sensual . . .  that celebrates our lewdness and lustiness,
that doesn't deign, but affirms our earthly desires, that magnifies them a
thousand times in a myriad of orgasmic delights . . .  is that not the
house of my father?  Kneel before the blasphemous idolatry as he welcomes
you . . .  without judgment . . .  the salacious and the perverse . . . 
the fornicator, the prostitute . . .  the lesbian, the gay, the transgender
. . .  where sodomy is an act of solemn worship . . .  cocksuckers all! 
Fall before the androgynous Baphomet, the horned god of nature . . .  of
unbridled lust and dark fertility . . .  so powerful the desire to spread
your legs and masturbate in eternal praise . . ." The chapel was filled
with an eerie red light - like torches licking at the walls with red and
amber . . .  walls that were adorned with the pornographic images of
Satanic lust . . .  the phallic altar had become a bed, that awaited
copulation . . .  the congregation, naked and excited as they were in the
time of Moloch, Baal and Astarte . . .  "bring forth the naked children, so
that we may prepare them for the ritual abuse . . .  so that they know the
world of evil . . .  `Train a child according to their evil inclinations;
let they do their own will, and they will continue in their evil way
throughout their life.' . . .  abuse begets abuse . . .  and that we may
all embrace the pleasures of the true father . . .  raping them . . . 
sodomizing them . . .  offering them to the god of the world, the god of
pleasure, the god of lust!" The naked congregation groaned in agreement
with my prayer . . .  their fingers explored their sexual organs and
brought themselves to a state of sexual excitement as Crystal and Emily
mounted the podium - their nubile young bodies in sharp contrast to the
aged and wrinkled flesh of the rest.  Crystal and Emily lay in a sixty-nine
position; so that they could lick each other between their spread thighs .
. .  the crowd encouraged their urgent copulation . . .  I am Succubus . .
. I am Incubus . . .  I am your God!" As I turned to face the entire on
congregation, they all bowed to my androgynous form . . .  from between my
legs, where my vagina had been, the daughter of Satan, had changed into the
legs of the faun, with an erect penis that stood upright from between my
fur-covered hind legs . . .  huffs for feet and small breasts crowned with
nail-hard nipples . . .  I knelt behind Crystal upon the altar bed.  With
Emily beneath me, so that her mouth and hands pleasured me from below,
guiding my long goat-like penis between Crystal's labia . . .  "Behold the
Goat of Mendes . . .  worship Satan!  The god of lust!" cried Sister Maria
masturbating upon the upturned face of Dr.  Benjamin Green. . .  I gripped
her thighs, drawing blood from my claws, as the head of my enormous cock
sunk into her wet little pussy, but as the girth of my knot became too
tight, she screamed in agony - I pushed harder, forcing it deeper into her
virgin cunt as I crushed against Emily's open mouth as she pleasured my
hairy balls and anus.  Crystal felt limp, like a ragdoll on the end of goat
phallic - fucking her harder and harder with every stroke.  My balls were
boiling with a new pleasure that I had never felt so strongly before . . .
FUCK!  I shot my load, my hot semen blasted out of my cock into her torn
body . . .  the dead virgin dangling on my animalistic appendage . . .  I
tossed her aside and took Emily, this time in the anus . . .  my cock still
rock hard despite my power orgasm . . .  I felt only LUST . . .the desire
to destroy . . .  She was powerless to stop me and I plowed into her
bowels, deeper and harder, until her guts were mush!  FUCK another hard
CUM! Oh yer!  FUCK!  I am Satan's Daughter!  FUCK YOU ALL TO HELL!  The
heat was almost unbearable to those around me.  Their screams of pleasure,
seemed to turn to screams of pain . . .  as the chapel became like a
furnace around me . . .

   The fires of hell seemed to consume the Home of Peace within seconds. 
Screams of those trapped in the burning building could be heard as helpless
onlookers and firemen were pushed backwards from the intensity of the
fierce heat of the burning structure that seemed doom to collapse inwards.
No one could escape this alive.  It was an inferno of death.

   Yet . . .  miraculously a small twelve-year old girl, somehow managed to
make it out alive.  They had found her amongst the burning cinders.  A
truly divide mystery . . .  rumors of almost `saintly' proportions where
reported . . .  who was this girl, the young and enigmatic Sally Johnson
who had escaped a fiery death . . .  certainly it wasn't her time to
perish, like the rest of them . . .  and her guardian, Dr Daisy Harvey, was
there to help her long after the news crews and reporters had finished
covering this story of death, destruction and unimaginable hope and glory .
. .  praise to the merciful God!  Praise to Him for saving the innocent
little schoolgirl that had been helping at the Home of Peace on that
dreadful day . . .

   The end.  Or not?

   For more stories from the author go to:
/files/Authors/xpanther

   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 to xpanther2008@gmail.com