The Devil’s Pact Ghost of Paris Chapter 7: The Goddess in the Tutu

 

 

The Devil’s Pact

The Ghost of Paris Chapter Seven: The Goddess in the Tutu

by mypenname3000

edited by Master Ken

© Copyright 2014


Story Codes: Male/Female, Male/Teen female, Mind Control, Magic, Exhibitionism, Anal Sex, Fisting, Public Sex

For a list of all the Devil’s Pact Chapters and other stories click here

Comments are very welcome. I would like all criticism, positive and negative, so long as its
constructive, and feedback is very appreciated.



Click here for Chapter 6.



Note: Thanks to b0b for also taking a look at this and finding some mistakes.

Tuesday, September 17th, 2013 – Paris, Texas

My pecker was still damp from Miss Cheshire’s cooch as I sat invisible at one of the library’s computers. The first thing I did when I entered the building was to give the hot librarian a nice tumble in the storeroom. I fucked her so hard against a shelf, a stack of books fell down on us. I kept right on plowing her cunt; no way was I going to let a few bumps and bruises stop me.

I typed in the web address: www.unearthedarcana.com. My favorite website; full of information on all things supernatural, and where I learned how to summon the Devil. I loved my wishes, loved being invisible, but there was a crucial thing I forgot to wish for—my poor pecker couldn’t keep up with all the fine, young things I wanted to fuck.

I scanned the translation of the Magicks of the Witch of Endor, happy to see that there were other demons I could summon. I blanched at some of the spells; Asherah required you to strangle an innocent to summon her, Dagon required drowning, and I shuddered at the price of a wish from Molech—three hundred women sacrificed to the demon per wish he granted. How could I sentence any woman to such a fate? I couldn’t fuck them if they were dead.

Astarte was perfect. Her summoning was easy; I just had to fuck a girl at sunset. Astarte would possess her body until dawn, amusing herself with depraved sex. The demoness would only grant one wish, and only a small thing. Hopefully, sexual stamina was small enough.

After that, I browsed the posts on the Ghost of Paris. It was all over social media about my ‘haunting’ of the girl’s locker room yesterday. Just thinking of those fine, young things I fucked yesterday got my dick hard again. I took one girl’s virginity, then I fucked a pair of twin sisters and watched one go down on the other. And to top it off, I fucked this hot-assed Mexican chick while she made out with one of the cheerleaders.

My eyes trailed over to Miss Cheshire. The librarian was smoking hot with her tawny hair pinned up in a tight bun, and slim, silver glasses perched on a cute, freckled nose. She wore a very low-cut, red blouse. It was such a bright red your eyes couldn’t help but stare at her large breasts that seemed about to fall out. She clearly wore no bra, and those melons jiggled magnificently as she walked about. And, hot-damn, that skirt was practically indecent. It barely fell below her ass. She walked over to the copier, bending over to work on it. Her skirt rode up, flashing her red panties at me, the crotch damp with our cum.

I had to have her again. I pushed the gusset of her panties to the side, and slammed into her. She moaned, throwing an appreciative glance over her shoulder, and gave her ass a wiggle. She bit her lips, and tried to look like she was servicing the machine as I plowed her. Her skirt was so short, no-one could even tell that she was getting fucked.

“Oh, baby,” she moaned.

The copier rocked as I pounded her. She was juicy, still full of my first load of cum, and oh-so hot. I enjoyed the thrill of our unobtrusive fuck. A young guy walked by, headphones on his head, and sat down at one of the computers just feet away. Then an old lady hobbled by, muttering to herself. I could see a pair of college students, a fat woman, and a skinny black guy browsing the shelves, completely unaware of the nasty things I was doing to their librarian.

“Harder,” she hissed. “Make me cum in front of all these fine folks!”

Miss Cheshire seemed to have turned into quite the exhibitionist slut, so I was more than happy to oblige, and I pounded the hell out of her juicy cooch. I reached around her, squeezing her full tits through her very low-cut blouse. She wore no bra, and her nipples were rock hard. My lips found her neck, sucking hard. She shuddered, gasping quietly as her pussy massaged my cock.

“That’s it!” she hissed. “You fine stud!”

“Had a good cum, sweetness?”

“Umm, the best,” she purred, wiggling her hips. “It is funner when there’s an audience, after all.”

I laughed. The old lady frowned, peering at us. I loved being invisible. Nothing was more freeing. My balls tightened. I basted Miss Cheshire’s cooch like the Christmas goose, my whole body tensing with pleasure.

Breathing heavily, I pulled out and gave her ass a slap. “Well, sweetness, I’m off.”

“You commin’ back, Ghost?” she asked.

“Abso-damn-fuckin’-lutely, sweetness,” I told her, giving her ass a pat. “You got a mighty fine cooch. How could I not want ‘nother taste of your grade A cunt?”

She giggled, straightening her panties. I gave her ass another squeeze.

I had plenty of time before dusk, so I moseyed my way over to the High School—it was almost time for practice. Ursula pulled the short straw, so her and her huge melons kept me occupied beneath the bleachers while the other cheerleaders practiced. Since I popped her cherry, the little slut couldn’t get enough of my pecker, and moaned and gasped as she rode me.

Around dusk, I found myself waiting at ‘Beauty in Motion’, the local dancing school where Darleen Cummings, the Mayor’s pride and joy, took ballerina lessons. Before I had become the Ghost, I used to sit on this very bench, and watch the girls prance about through the studio’s large windows. Darleen was the most beautiful creature when she danced; a fairy twirling about with white-blonde hair. She was skinny and lithe, graceful as a butterfly.

I waited for her on the hood of her daddy’s Beemer. I knew from experience that she liked to dawdle, talking with the gorgeous instructor for a few minutes. The sun was sinking to the western horizon, shining into my eyes, and I was growing antsy. Where was this whore? All the other girls had left already.

I needed the uppity bitch by sunset!

Darleen stepped out around the corner, walking down the alley that ran between the dancing school and its neighbor, and led to the back parking lot where I waited. She wore white tights that clung to her slim legs, and over that she wore a black leotard and a wispy, black tutu. Her hands fished around in a purse slung over her shoulder. She pulled out a pair of keys, the car beeping beneath me as she pointed the remote.

She was so beautiful; my pecker ached to feel her cooch. The sun was red on the horizon, bathing the sky with oranges and yellows, painting her white tights with fire. I jumped off the car; she frowned as the car rocked and the shocks groaned.

“What in the blue hell,” she muttered, her eyes peering at the dusty ground, at the clouds of brown kicked up by my feet as I circled her, wafting away in the slight breeze.

She turned to run; I was faster.

I caught Darleen’s arm in an iron grip. Her purse dropped with a clatter as I hauled her back to me. She spun, white-blonde hair whipping about in a tight ponytail, and slapped me hard, stinging my cheek.

“Help!” she screamed. “Someone please help me!”

Cheek smarting, I grabbed her shoulders, and silenced her with a kiss, thrusting my tongue deep into her mouth. The fight went out of her now that I’d begun my molestation. That was part of my Pact; I’d wished that any girl I molested while invisible would enjoy it. She melted, kissing me back with the wild passion of a bobcat, and raked my arms and chest with her nails.

“You’re real,” she gasped as I kissed at her neck.

“Yep,” I simply said, trying to sound all ghost-like. “And you’re gonna help me out with somethin’.”

My hands rubbed down her back to her butt, giving each cheek a squeeze. I reached down between her legs, feeling the heat of her cooch. I dug my fingers into the legbands of the leotard, and ripped the crotch open.

“Help with what?” she asked; her body trembled like a rickety shack in a strong wind.

I tore her tights open then shoved the gusset of her panties to the side, and felt the soft curls that surrounded her treasure. I probed; she gave a sharp intake of breath as I found her moist delights, shoving my finger in up to the knuckle. She felt wonderful; I couldn’t wait to shove my pecker into her.

“With a spell,” I answered her, pumping my finger in and out. She moaned, her cunt giving my finger a squeeze. “I reckon you’ll enjoy it.”

I spun her about, pressing her against the trunk of her Beemer. My hungry gaze fell upon her white panties—a few errant golden curls escaped out the legholes, the fabric tight against her slit—through her tattered leotard. I roughly shoved the gusset of her panties to the side and drove my pecker into her wonderful cooch.

“Hot damn, that feels as great as I ‘magined it would!” I moaned. “Been fantasizin’ ’bout this for months.”

“Jesus H. Christ!” she groaned. “That’s bigger than my hairbrush’s handle!”

“This the first pecker to be up your cooch then?”

“Yes, sir! Fuck! If I knew it felt this great…” The rest of her words were lost as she gasped, my fingers pinching her nipples through her leotard.

I pounded Darleen hard, savoring the wet tightness of her hole. I watched the sun; it was sinking lower and lower—I needed to cum before it sank all the way. She wiggled her hips, her virginal body instinctively knowing how to move. Every thrust rubbed my pecker’s head against the spongy, and wonderful, flesh of her cunt.

“You got a fine cooch, sweetness!” I moaned. “Gonna shoot so much cum inside you, you’ll think you’re drownin’!”

“Oh, fuck!” she panted. “Oh, my sweet Jesus, yes! Keep doing that! Oh, my word! Oh, my fuckin’ word!”

Her cunt grew tighter, bearing down hard on my cock as the little slut bucked on the trunk of her car. My balls were boiling, prepared to unleash a flood of my baby batter. God, I hope she wasn’t on the pill; she’d be so sexy with a round, pregnant belly while I fucked her from behind. I hoped many of the young things I’d been fucking were pregnant.

The thought of seeing one of my conquests pregnant with my child sent my balls to frothing.

“Astarte!” I yelled as my cum boiled into her; the sun just a sliver on the horizon. “Queen of Heavens, wisest of the Three, Goddess of Prophecy, I offer you this vessel to inhabit!”

Darleen’s mouth opened wide; a sound of unearthly beauty issued from her lips; starlight danced silver on her skin. A force—powerful, dreadful, majestic—forced me away from the teen. I stumbled back, tripping, and falling down on my ass, gravel digging into my cheeks.

She stood up as graceful as a swan. Her white-blonde hair glowed silver now, whipping free of her ponytail to frame her beautiful face, and her blue eyes twinkled with a pale light. She was a goddess in a tutu, as beautiful as the starry night sky, and I wanted to worship her. The sun disappeared beneath the horizon, the sky darkening blue, purple, black.

“What a fine vessel, mortal,” Darleen-Astarte purred, her voice a rich, majestic velvet upon my ears. She stretched, writhing the teen’s lithe body.

She strode forward, straddling me. I groaned as legs clad in tights rubbed against my hips, pleasure coursing hot through my veins straight to my pecker. I rose like a rooster at dawn, ready to fuck. Darleen-Astarte grasped my shaft and buried her cunt upon my cock. No. It was too dry for her cunt. That was the teen’s ass sliding up and down my pecker! She moaned, arching her back, tearing the front of her black leotard open to expose small, perfectly formed tits topped with puffy, pink nipples.

“I am well pleased with your gift, mortal,” she purred, fingers pumping in and out of her cunt as she rode me like a bronco.

“Thank you,” I gasped, struggling to think through the cloud of pleasure that fogged my mind. Her ass felt like heaven wrapped around my pecker.

She grinned like a hungry beast, eyes shining silver, and those perky tits kept bouncing. “What boon shall I grant unto you for the gift of this maiden’s body, mortal.”

“I want stamina,” I moaned. “I want my pecker to always be ready to fuck a pretty, young thang!”

“Such a small thing.” She straightened, working her hips on my cock, shoving her whole fist into her cooch. I could feel it, stretching her wide open and pushing on my pecker buried in her ass. It was so obscene, watching this cute, innocent teen shove her fist into her tight cooch while my pecker was buried in her sweet cornhole. “We have a Pact, mortal!” she groaned, tits heaving as she came.

“Thank you kindly!” I gasped.

As she rode me, her silver eyes fixed on mine. They seemed to be shining through my flesh, into my soul, illuminating every aspect of my soiled life. “I have a warning for you,” she moaned, her ass spasming on my pecker.

“What?”

She fisted herself faster, cum after cum spasming through her body, massaging my pecker. Her voice dropped an octave, becoming ethereal smoke as she intoned:

“Beware the Maiden, hair of pink,

Beguiling figure, comely face.

Beware the Maiden, pretty as death

Leading you to your final place!”

What the hell was that? I opened my mouth to ask—only a low groan escaped. My cock erupted into her heavenly ass, my body spasming as an intense pleasure—stronger than anything I had ever experienced—engulfed me. I could only bellow my rapture to the skies, to the stars twinkling in the darkness, worshiping the Queen of Heaven with my passion.

When I regained myself, I caught a glimpse of silver hair and a black tutu disappearing around the corner of a building. I grinned; Astarte was off to enjoy her vessel. She’d have till dawn, when she’d have to return to the Abyss.

Did the Pact work?

My pecker felt drained, flaccid. I thought of the first girl that crossed my mind—Heather Pritchard. She was a red-haired beauty and an absolute firecracker in bed. She was my favorite bedmate; when I needed a place to sleep, I’d just break into a sweet, young thing’s house, fuck the girl, then sleep in her bed. My cock hardened at the thought of fucking Heather, and a painful need to cum filled my pecker and balls. Never before had I ever been so horny, so in need to cum.

I stood up; I needed to find some relief. My balls were so full of cum that they were going to explode if I didn’t relieve the pressure. I stumbled off into the darkness, searching for some pretty, young thing to stick my pecker in. I didn’t really care who she was. I just needed to cum!

As the saying went, any port in a storm, and there was one mighty huge storm brewing in my balls.

To be continued…

Click here for Chapter 8.

4 thoughts on “The Devil’s Pact Ghost of Paris Chapter 7: The Goddess in the Tutu

    1. mypenname3000 Post author

      Glad you liked it. As far as what Astarte is up to, I’m in the process of writing it. She gets up to a lot of naught fun and the twins from the chapter 6 get swept up in it. It’s called the Ghost of Paris Interludes. I’ve written parts one and two

      Reply
  1. PeacelovingXXX

    With his new wish, I would like see him enter a lesbian bar at dusk and then leave a bi-sexual bar in the morning (at least for the ghost). I was glad to read that you making a series for Astarte.

    Reply
    1. mypenname3000 Post author

      I do like that one. I may write that. They’re a gap between the last chapter and the epilogue where I can always squeeze in a new chapter.

      Reply

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