The Battered Lamp
Chapter Twelve: The Peril of the Succubus
© Copyright 2014
Story Codes: Male/Teen female, Teen male/Teen female, Mind Control, Magic, Domination/Submission, Oral Sex, Incest
Comments are very welcome. I would like all criticism, positive and negative, so long as its
constructive, and feedback is very appreciated. To contact me, you can leave a comment or email me at email@example.com.
Click here for Chapter 11.
Note: Thanks to b0b for being my beta reader.
Fatima smiled and reached for her husband, who was also her brother. Kyle was naked, his body dark-brown and muscular, his cock hard and ready for her. She loved her brother so much, and was so happy that Aaliyah had made their marriage possible.
She was also glad to have Kyle all to herself tonight.
Fatima loved her brother’s wives and concubines dearly, and loved fucking them even more, but sometimes you just wanted to be with the man you love without one of his other wives or concubines joining in on the fun. Romantic. Private. Cozy. Wonderful.
“You are so beautiful, little sister,” Kyle smiled.
“I know,” she said, grinning and grasping his cock. “I can tell by how hard you are!”
He groaned and leaned in, kissing her. It was so wonderful. She stroked his broad back, delighting in the strength of his muscles. He was like a rock, strong and unmoving, and she wanted to hold on tight as her passions whipped through her like a forest fire. She shoved her tongue deep into his mouth, stroking faster. His hands caressed her flesh, fanning the inferno inside her.
He found her nipples, pinching, caressing, playing. She moaned into his lips. He lowered her to their bed, the sheets cool on her burning flesh. She was so wet, she didn’t need foreplay and spread her legs, guiding him to her wonderful spot.
“Oh, yes!” she gasped, breaking the kiss as his girth drove into her. She felt so wonderfully full. Her little pussy was made to be fucked by her brother’s cock. “Make love to me!”
“I will,” he promised, not moving. It was wonderful; he filled her up, while his dark, slanted eyes stared down into hers. “I love you so much, Fatima.”
She smiled. “I love you, Kyle. Now fuck me! Make me cum! Douse the fires burning inside me!”
He pumped; she moaned.
“Oh, yes!” she gasped, her head lolling to the right as he kissed her ear. Such wonderful pleasure—
Dark eyes peered at her. The wall of Kyle’s bedroom melted away, dissolving into darkness as the shadowed eyes moved into the room. Terror squeezed her heart and she screamed, pushing at Kyle to get off her.
He kept fucking her. “Your pussy feels so wet,” he moaned.
“You have to stop!”
Kyle laughed. “You don’t want me to do that!”
The eyes were so close, and she scratched and clawed at her husband. “Please, Kyle! We’re in danger!”
“What can hurt you here?”
Me, the dark eyes seemed to hiss. A woman’s voice, deep and angry. She could see a feminine figure in the darkness, a gaping wound in her stomach.
“You can’t be here!” Fatima shouted at the eyes.
She wiggled and kicked, her heart beating in terror. The bed began to dissolve, misting away as the eyes were only a feet away. She heaved at her pumping husband, twisting his nipples, and wormed her way out from under him.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, confused, even as his body began to be consumed by the dark figure.
Fatima fled, running as fast as she could from the nightmare born of guilt.
Thursday, January 23rd
Detective Mike Donnar parked his unmarked police car where the deputy directed, climbing out into the misting rain. He had been asleep at home when the call came in. Multiple homicide, Graham. He had worked a lot of homicides in his fifteen years working for the Pierce County Sheriff Department, and he was glad his wife, Maddy, was so understanding.
His cunt-of-an-ex-wife had not been.
“The main crime scene’s across the bridge,” a deputy said, pointing at a wooden bridge. Something large lay on it.
“Bear. Damnedest thing. It’s chest has been hacked open. And there are more dead bears in the clearing around the house.”
“I thought this was a homicide?”
“Yeah.” The deputy shifted. “It ain’t pretty. Four dead. All women. All naked.”
“Fuck.” Detective Donnar crossed the bridge, glancing at the dead bear, its blood black on the wooden bridge. Then he noticed the license plate. It lay wedged beneath the damage truss of the bridge. A car had wrecked here.
“Ran the plates?” he asked the deputy.
“Yeah. Belongs to a, uh…” he flipped through a small notebook he pulled out of his breast pocket. “…uh, Faiza Unmei. She lives in South Hill.”
Donnar nodded, smiling.
“The car was reported stolen by her son, Kyle, at about 6:30 PM last night. Said he last saw it when he got home from school at 3 PM. We have a BOLO out on it.”
“Top priority,” Donnar called out, and continued across the bridge.
It was chaos beyond the bridge. Portable lights were being set up, illuminating a torn up ground in front of log cabin. It looked like a bomb had gone off—an entire wall of the cabin was missing, chunks spread out on the ground. And the hard-packed dirt in front of the cabin, strewn with three more dead bears, was torn and disturbed. At the cabin entrance lay two dead, naked girls, one Black. Through the door he could see another woman’s body, her decapitated head lying nearby.
What did that? A fucking sword?
This was going to be a long night.
Fumi awoke before dawn, dressing quietly, and slipping out of the house before her parents could awake. She started the car, punching in the address for Paradise on Mount Rainier into her GPS, and driving south down Meridian, following the GPS instructions. She was going to find Niqualmie and beg the spirit for a way for her and Kyle to be together.
There just had to be a way.
Before going to bed, she had Googled the name Britney had told her, and learned everything that she needed to know to summon the spirit. Britney claimed she existed, and Fumi had all her hopes pinned on the spirit.
“I need him so bad,” she whispered to herself as she drove into the mountains, the wet forest giving way to snow. The road was freshly plowed, but her car still slid on patches of ice as she drove nearer and nearer to Paradise. Her stomach was twisted in knots; her family had just moved to Washington State a month ago and she had never been up here.
But she had been in the mountains back home in Hokkaido—the northern most of the main islands of Japan—and she was not stranger to them in winter. The road wound as she climbed higher and higher, the snow thickening, until she reached a small, wooden building—Paradise’s visitor center. No one was here; it was a Thursday and the sun was just cresting the flank of Mount Rainier.
Taking a deep breath, she strode out of her car into the snowy fields of Paradise, the snow up to her knees as she slogged through the thick, cold mess until she reached the about two hundred yards from her car. It felt far enough.
“Here goes,” she said, her hands trembling as she peeled off her downy jacket. If this doesn’t work…
She dropped her jacket to the snow, then pulled her sweater over her head, gasping as the cold air attacked her skin, goose pimples forming. She unhooked her bra, her nipples achingly hard, then she kicked off her boots, wiggled out of her heavy pants and a panties, and unrolled her wool socks. Shivering violently, her teeth chattering, she laid down in the snow.
“Wow! That’s cold.”
And now she had to wait for the spirit to come, or hypothermia to kill her. The cold seeped into her, stealing away her warmth as the gray clouds swirled over head. She shivered again, the snow almost burning hot against her flesh. She wanted to get dressed, to get warm, but she needed to do this. She needed to be with Kyle.
I need to fuck a man, but I can’t live with killing another one. If I can’t be with Kyle, this is better. Cleaner.
“Holy shit! You okay, miss?” a man shouted.
A man stood over her, wearing a heavy, dark brown coat and a wide-brimmed, beige hat. Fumi thought he might be a park ranger. His face was rugged, spotted with stubble and his shoulders were broad. A new warmth suffused her, driving back the cold that had slowly been creeping through her body. Her musk, sweet like lilacs, permeated the air.
“What are you doing?” he demanded.
“Go away, please,” Fumi said, her pussy moistening. She pressed her thighs together, trying to control herself. She needed cum, and her eyes fell to the man’s pants where an impressive bulge was tenting the front of his khaki pants.
“I can’t do that. You need to put on your clothes right away.” He licked his lips and rubbed a sweaty palm on his trousers. “Yes. It’s…not good for you to be so…naked.”
He groaned as she licked her lips, and Fumi ached to drink his cum. Her power was affecting the man, making his cock rise and molding him to her suggestions. “Why can’t you just leave me alone?” she purred.
“You’ll freeze to death. You really should put some clothes on.”
“But you don’t want me to, right?” She arched her body, her budding breasts jiggling, and she spread open her thighs, letting him have a good luck at her pussy covered by a thick fur of black hair. “You want to keep watching my naked, nubile form.”
“Yes,” he admitted.
“Of course you do,” she purred, sitting up. “You want me to stay naked and beautiful so you can enjoy me.”
“You seem so stressed. I bet you could use a release.” Her hands stroked his pants, sliding up to his bulging crotch.
“Fuck, yeah!” he groaned as her hand brushed his hard cock through his pants.
“And you’ll leave me alone and let me lie naked in the snow?” Her fingers pulled the zipper down.
He wore red long johns beneath his pants and she unbuttoned the fly, reaching in and fished out his hard, thick cock. So wonderful, she thought, then swallowed his cock. Fumi loved to suck hard dicks, milking all the wonderful cum out of them that she craved. Blowjobs were the safest way to harvest it. She could never kill a man by blowing him, but it was also the least satisfying. It took the edge off her hunger. Anal sex was riskier, the man could die, but most wouldn’t.
And maybe there was a single man in all the world that could survive cumming in her pussy. Her mother had been fortunate enough to find her one man, Fumi’s father, and Fumi had hoped Kyle was her one man. But she had forgotten or ignored one fact—that one man would always be born in Hokkaido, descended on both sides of his family from one bloodline. Kyle was only half-Japanese, he could never have been the one.
But I love him so much.
“Fucking whore,” groaned the park ranger as she sucked his cock. “That’s it, little snow bunny. Suck my cock. All you sluts love to come up here and tease me, and now one of you is finally paying up.”
His hands stroked her black hair as she swirled her tongue about his head, savoring the bitter precum leaking out of his cock. Her hands cupped his balls, massaging them, trying to work the cum out faster. She sucked, sliding slowly down his shaft until he brushed the back of her throat, and then she drew back up.
“Fuck, yes!” he moaned. “You sure know how to suck cock, little snow bunny!”
She held only the tip in her mouth, sucking and exploring it with her tongue, then she started bobbing rapidly, humming to increase his pleasure. He moaned, both of his hands gripping her head. Fumi was ready, and didn’t fight as he began to fuck her face.
“Take my cock!” he grunted. “That’s it. Eat it all up, little snow bunny! Such a nasty slut! Take it all!”
His cock brushed the back of her throat over and over, every time hitting her a little harder. Then, with an animalistic grunt, he shoved his cock down her throat. She relaxed, swallowing his cock, and humming around the tip buried down her esophagus.
“That’s it! Fucking slut! Deep-throat me!”
He fucked her face harder and faster; her hands squeezing and stroking his balls. His eyes stared down at hers, wild with lust and red with exertion. She let go of his balls, and let them slap her chin. Her pussy was on fire, dripping her juices into the cold snow. Pleasure gathered inside her, spurred by every thrust of his cock into her lips. She sucked and swirled her tongue around the invading cock, eager for his cum.
“Oh, yeah!” he grunted. “You’re gonna get a big mouthful, little snow bunny!”
Salty, bitter cum flooded her mouth.
Her pussy exploded, convulsing and sending pleasure swirling through her.
She swallowed his life-giving cum, the warmth spreading through her body. He fired a second, large blast, and she swallowed fast and greedy. She couldn’t get enough cum. A third blast, smaller, squirted into her mouth and he let go of her head, stumbling back.
“Fuck,” he panted as she fall back into the cold snow, delighting in the wicked thrill filling her up. She licked her lips, cleaning up the traces of his cum that had escaped her lips, wanting to taste every last bit of his cum.
She stared up the clouds, listening to his retreating footsteps, and waiting for the cold to steal back over her flushed body. Niqualmie only appeared to young men or women searching for love in the wilderness and at the brink of death.
She shivered, the cold robbing the warmth of her orgasm, filling up her entire body. Her teeth chattered and every few seconds, violent spams wracked her body. And then…everything stopped mattering. The cold had filled her and she stopped shivering. A lassitude crept over her, and she just watched the gray clouds swirl overhead as the world slowly grew darker and darker.
She wasn’t even cold anymore.
I’ll go to sleep and wake up in heaven. It’s better this way. I won’t hurt anymore men. I’ll just go to sleep and dream of Kyle.
I won’t ever lose control and hurt him.
Kyle flinched when he saw his sister lying on the hospital bed hooked up to machines, a breathing tube in her nose. Aaliyah gasped behind him, her body pressed against him, shivering in horror. Kyle’s mom sat on a chair next to Fatima’s bed, holding her hand. His mom looked terrible, and Kyle wasn’t sure she slept at all on the padded chair next to Fatima’s bed.
A nurse with black, short hair and green eyes pushed past Kyle. He barely noticed her pink aura.
He walked over and took his sister’s hand, bringing it up to his lips and kissing it. “I’m sorry, Fatima,” he whispered. “I shouldn’t have taken you along.”
“What happened to her, Kyle?” his mom asked. “Was it drugs? The doctors are baffled.”
“It was a witch, Mom,” Kyle answered. “They kidnapped Aaliyah and hexed Fatima.”
“He speaks the truth, mother,” Aaliyah whispered. “She was very brave.”
A tear rolled down his mom’s cheeks. “No. Witches don’t exist.”
“You can accept Aaliyah and her homnoculi, but not witches?”
“What’s so strange about those little men?” she asked. More of Aaliyah’s work. “They’re very useful.”
“Aaliyah, I wish mom would believe us.”
She shook her head, her dark eyes misting. “Not hearth or home,” she whispered.
“Mom, do I tell lies?” he asked her.
“I didn’t think so, but…”
“Then believe me. Aaliyah was kidnapped and we went to go save her.”
“Why didn’t you call the police?” she demanded. “Then your sister wouldn’t have been hurt.”
“The police couldn’t have saved me, mother.”
“They had powers,” Kyle answered. “They cast spells. The police couldn’t have stopped them.”
“And you could?” His mother was half-hysterical. “I don’t understand what has gotten into you? Is it Aaliyah? Is your wife feeding you all this mumbo-jumbo?”
“We had weapons that Aaliyah brought us.”
“I can’t deal with this, Kyle!” she snapped. “Your sister is unconscious, the doctors are baffled, and I can’t deal with your lies! Just tell me the truth! What happened to her, Kyle? What happened to my baby girl?”
Kyle walked over to his mom, taking her hands in his and knelt before her. “Please, Mom. You have to believe me. Someone cast a spell on Fatima. That’s why the doctors don’t understand what’s going on.”
Her beautiful face twisted with anger and she ripped her hand out and slapped him. “Enough, Kyle! I won’t be mad, just tell me the truth!”
“Aaliyah, I wish that you prove you’re a Genie.”
Aaliyah considered it for a moment, then suddenly there were flowers decorating the room, feeling the air with sweet, pungent scent. “Our wife deserves to have finer surroundings,” she answered.
His mom gaped, her jaw working. She looked at Aaliyah like she had sprouted a third arm and all the color drained out of her face. “Y-you…what…how?”
“I’m a Djinn. Like your son said. I grant him certain wishes, help his life go more smoothly.”
“Then you can fix Fatima!” Hope burned in his mom’s eyes. “Make the wish, Kyle.”
Aaliyah’s face fell. “My powers are limited. Healing her is beyond them. I can help Kyle around the house and…help him with relationships.”
“We’ll find a way to save her, mom.” Kyle leaned up and kissed her on the cheek. “I love her, mom. I won’t abandon her. She’s one of my wives.”
His mom nodded. “I know that you love her.” Then she hugged her son and sobbed on his shoulder.
Later, after his mom’s crying had abated, Kyle led Aaliyah out of the hospital. He still had school to attend. Shannon, Kyle’s oldest concubine, the beautiful mother of Chyna, waited by her SUV a hopeful look on her face. Kyle shook his head, and her face softened.
“I’m sorry, Master,” she whispered, giving him a motherly hug and then a most unmotherly kiss.
She opened the door; the SUV had been modified heavily by Aaliyah this morning, the interior enlarged to hold all Kyle’s concubines in comfort. Alexina, Carla, Toni, and Chyna were sprawled on the rear seat that was as wide as a couch, sharing kisses, and Fatima’s two concubines, Kayleah and Ann, were curled on pillows on the floor.
“She’s still unconscious,” he told Ann and Kayleah, and their grief returned—they loved his sister greatly.
Alexina and Chyna parted, making room for Kyle to sit between them, and both women instantly pressed against him. Aaliyah sat on the pillows, looking up at Kyle as Shannon pulled the SUV from the hospital. The ride was smooth and still, and you could only tell the SUV was moving was by looking out the windows.
“Another attack could come at anytime,” Aaliyah said, her dark eyes full of worry.
Kyle nodded. “Yeah. It’s too bad I can’t carry Earthbones with me.” The katana was hanging on wall in the central room of his suite, right above Fatima’s yari. “I doubt the school would like that, unless…” He look at Aaliyah.
“I’m afraid not. In my time, no one would have questioned you wearing the sword.” Then she smiled. “You are bonded with the weapon. It is made by the Djinn, and doesn’t obey your…rules of the universe. Is that right?”
“Do you mean Laws.”
She nodded. “Yes. The Laws that govern the material world do not apply to the sword. If you concentrate on it, you should be able to summon it at a moment’s heartbeat.”
Kyle concentrated. “What am I supposed to be feeling.”
“Remember how it felt to use the weapon.”
He closed his eyes and remembered the power, the strength of the very earth he had walked on, ancient and massive. He reached out to the sword, touching it with his mind. It was tenuous, almost like the memory of the blade. His hands itched, remembering the feel of the rough grip in his hands, the weight of the blade, the balance.
It was like he could feel it—
“Wow, Master!” Alexina gasped.
He opened his eyes. Earthbones glinted in his hand, the steel blade inlaid with yellow gold, glinting in the lights of the SUV’s interiors. The concubines all looked on with amazed, joyful expressions, clapping and cheering. Chyna pressed her rather nice, and large, breasts against him as she kissed his cheek over and over.
Aaliyah nodded with satisfaction. “You and the blade are joined. It is a part of you. You can return it to your room by reversing the process, imagining hanging safely, ready for you to reach out and call it.”
“This is amazing!” he laughed, dismissing his blade. It vanished in a whirl of dusty-yellow smoke.
“We must tread carefully,” Aaliyah cautioned. “Ms. Franklin may not be the only threat out there. Others may wish my power, and the Marid…well, they will move against you one day.”
“They’re the ones that have enslaved your people?”
“Not precisely. But their rule is tyrannical, but you can change that. A mortal ruling the Djinn would bring neutrality.”
“But first I have to have four wives?” Kyle said. “Two have left me, one lies in the coma, I’m not sure I’ll ever have that.”
“There are other women, my husband. In time, your heart will grow fond of them.”
“But I don’t want other women,” Kyle grated. “I want Fumi and Christy!”
“I can summon them.”
He could see the pain in her eyes; she still hadn’t forgiven Christy. He couldn’t make Aaliyah suffer that way. And Christy and Fumi both had their path to walk. They had made their decisions and he had to respect them. Kyle wanted his wives of their own free will. “I can’t take away their choices.”
Chyna nodded. “They’re not concubines.” She didn’t seem to care at all that her feelings for Kyle were caused by Ms. Franklin’s spell.
“As you wish, my husband,” Aaliyah answered, though her face was tight.
“Have faith,” Carla said. “Fumi and Christy may return.”
The SUV stopped, pulling up at the school. Kyle looked down at Aaliyah. “I can’t change how my heart feels.”
Aaliyah sighed. “I know, my love.”
Kyle’s classmates gawked as he piled out, receiving a kiss from his MILF driver and surrounded by a bevy of hot teens that pressed about him as they walked inside. He gave each of his and his sister’s concubines a kiss as they split off to head to their first period. Last he gave Aaliyah a kiss. “I love you,” he murmured, stroking her cheek.
She smiled. “I love you.”
Then he headed to Math class with Toni.
Christy’s empty seat broke his heart. They had spent this semester sitting next to each other, trading looks and sometimes sneaking handholds or brushing their feet together. Anger bubbled inside him, and he found himself needing a release.
His eyes settled on his concubine Toni. She was a beautiful redhead, wearing her Rogers cheerleader uniform today, blue top and blue-and-white pleated skirt. She glanced at him, a knowing smile on her lips. She was eager to be used by him.
*Yes, my love?* her voice purred in his head.
I wish that no one in my math class cares that I fuck Toni.
*Done.* Her voice giggled in his head. *Have fun with her*
Kyle stood up, walking towards Toni’s desk. “Tony.”
She looked up, her face dusted with freckles and a dainty nose set between her green eyes. “Yes, Master.” Color blossomed in her cheeks.
“I’m in the mood to have a cheerleader suck my cock.”
The class ignored them and Ms. Skinner kept lecturing on solving for cosign.
“Right here…?” Toni’s voice trailed off as her blush deepened.
Kyle nodded. “Get on your knees and suck me off, cheerleader.”
“Yes, Master,” she purred. “I hope Aaliyah has arranged things.”
“She has,” he smiled, stroking her face.
“Good,” she purred. “I do love sucking your cock. It was so hot yesterday when you made suck you off in the cafeteria.”
“Yes it was,” Kyle grinned, grabbing a strand of her red hair, twining it about his finger. “Why haven’t you started sucking my cock yet, cheerleader?”
“Sorry, Master!” she squeaked, and then buckled on her gaze and slipped to the floor. Her hands trembling, she reached for the zipper on his jeans, pulling it down. His cock was hard and she sucked it quickly into her mouth.
“Oh, yeah,” Kyle groaned as she sucked hard and hummed, vibrating his dick. “You are a cheerleader slut!”
His concubines mouth sucked harder, bobbing up and down on his cock. He could forget all about his problems with her hot mouth wrapped around his sensitive dick. Her hands wrapped around his waist, squeezing his ass, and she pulled him deeper into her mouth. Obscene, wet noises filled the classroom, and the other students continued ignoring it.
“That’s it! Love my cock, cheerleader.”
Her green eyes flashed up at him and he stroked her cheek. She gave a pleased moan, and worked his cock deeper and deeper into her mouth, then she slipped him all the way down her throat, her lips touching his crotch. His balls were boiling, and he looked around the room at his classmates working away, smiling at the fun he was having.
“Get ready, cheerleader slut!” he groaned, and then his balls exploded. She swallowed, a little bit of his cum leaking around her lips. He panted, standing back, that wonderful, relaxed buzz flowing through his blood.
“Did you enjoy it, Master?” she asked.
“Good,” she smiled, licking her lips. “Do you need more?”
“Is your cheerleader pussy wet?”
She nodded her head. “So wet, Master.”
“Bend over the desk and pull down your panties, and I’ll make you cum.”
She smiled, standing up and twirling around, her skirt flaring up. She pulled off the blue bloomers and her white panties, bunching them around her ankles, then bent over the desk. Her skirt rode up, giving Kyle a glimpse of her pale asscheeks. He flipped her skirt up and found her pussy shaved, her pussy lips fat and flushed with arousal.
“What are you?” Kyle asked, rubbing his cock against her fat pussy lips, enjoying the wet, silky feeling.
“I’m a cheerleader slut!” she moaned. “Your cheerleader slut, Master.”
He drove into her. “Yes you are!”
“Oh, yes! Take me! You’re so powerful!” she moaned. “I’m your little slut! Make me do whatever you want!”
He pounded her tight, juicy snatch, her desk squeaking as it slid in short, inch slides every time he drove into her. Toni’s fiery fair flew about as she tossed her head back and forth, throwing sultry looks over her shoulder as she moaned and panted. “Fuck me! I’m your slut! Your cheerleader slut!”
“My cheerleader slut!” he groaned, driving harder in to her, enjoying the way her asscheeks shook and the pleats of her skirts danced as he bottomed out in her. His balls were frothing, preparing to boil over inside her.
“Yes, yes! Oh, Lord, yes!” she gasped, and her tight, little snatch convulsed about his cock.
So wonderful! Her pussy worked his pumping cock, bringing him closer and closer to erupting inside her. He needed to cum, to lose himself in that moment of mind-numbing, earth-stopping release. He clenched his teeth, nearing that powerful moment, his hips pumping wildly.
“Fuck!” he hissed through clenched teeth. His cock erupted into her cunt.
He drove into her a second time, then a third time, each thrust ejaculating another blast of cum. His breath exploded out of him. He felt drained, pulling out of her and stumbling back, trying to hold onto the endorphin rush and keep all the stress at bay.
“Did you enjoy my slutty, cheerleader’s pussy, Master?” Toni asked.
“Yeah,” he nodded, sitting down and patted his lap. His cheerleader concubine sat on him, throwing her arms around his shoulders. “You did just fine, slut.”
He gave her a kiss, happy for the momentary distraction his concubine had provided.
The class bell rang as Kyle cuddled Toni on his lap. Aleah paused at his desk. She was dressed in an identical cheerleaders outfit and Kyle noticed her aura wasn’t as pink today as it had been yesterday. Tight about her neck was a choker with “Corey’s Girl” written on it.
Kyle grinned. Yesterday, his friend Corey had asked him to be hooked up with a submissive girl of his own and Kyle had pointed out Aleah. Looks like Corey had claimed the girl’s affections.
“Hey, Aleah,” Toni smiled. “Are you a concubine?”
The girl flushed. “Yeah,” she admitted, then glanced at Christy’s seat and her face fell. “Have you heard from Christy? They say she’s missing.”
“Yeah, she ran away from home,” Kyle answered, shifting. Her mother had called last night wondering where Christy was. “She left me a note.”
“You don’t think she’s…dead?”
Kyle shook his head.
“Well, it was on the news this morning that Ms. Franklin and Karrie,” Aleah glanced at Karrie’s empty seat, “and a few other girls were killed. They’re all the girls in Christy’s book club.” She chewed her lips. “And Phillipa’s missing, too. What do you think happened?”
Kyle’s insides went cold and he tried to sound as casual as possible. “I’m sure she’s fine. She…she left me a note and…” Some of the pain Christy had caused bubbled up and he pushed it back down.
“It’s okay, Master,” Toni whispered. “She’ll come back.”
“Well, I hope so,” Aleah said. “I need to get to class. I hope she comes home fine.”
“I’m so sorry for you loss, Ms. Gore” Detective Donnar said as he sat down across from her. They were in the sterile waiting room of the Pierce County Medical Examiner’s office, sitting on black, plastic, and very uncomfortable chairs.
Ms. Gore stared at her hands, her face expressionless.
“If you have a few minutes, I would like—”
“What happened to her?” she asked, looking up. Her voice was small, quiet, almost childish. Her shoulders slumped, beaten down. “Who did this to her?”
“That’s what I’m going to find out,” Detective Donnar said.
“Was she stabbed?” Ms. Gore’s eyes were dark pools in a pale face. “That wound in her throat…” she shuddered.
“I’m sorry you had to see her like that.” He gave her a moment. It was never easy seeing a loved-ones body splayed out on the table, but it was the fastest way to identify their victims. She was the last of the victim’s guardians he had to speak to.
“Do you know what your daughter was doing last night?”
“Book club,” Ms. Gore answered. “At least, that’s what she told me.”
The parents of the other two teenage victims, Karrie Robertson and Rashawn Underhill, had said the same. “And did they regularly meet in a cabin in Graham?”
“Where did the club meet at?”
“Ms. Franklin’s house, I think,” she answered. “I dropped her off there once. They usually meet on Saturday nights. Ms. Franklin, her biology teacher, really turned her grades around with this book club. She was accepted into Stanford…” Her face fell, stricken by horror.
“And did you think there was anything unusual about your daughter visiting a teachers house?”
“No.” Her eyes widened. “Did Ms. Franklin do something to her?”
He didn’t answer her; it was best to give as little information as possible so he didn’t pollute her statement. “And what exactly did they do at their meetings?”
“Talked about books. What else would they do?”
That’s a good question. After identifying Michelle Franklin from her drivers license found in her car at the scene, they had searched her house. They found sex toys, BDSM gear, pictures of six different girls, including the three victims, all engaging in sex acts with the teacher and each other, and various occult paraphernalia in the basement.
“Do you know who else was in the group?” Neither Rashawn’s or Karrie’s parents had known the answer. They had three other girls in those photos to identify.
“Um, let me think. I met them all just a few weeks ago when I picked up Lorrie.” She wiped her eyes. “I knew a few of them, they had been over to the house. There was a black girl, her named started with an R. Another Black girl named Karrie. Um, Sable Purcell, I think. Christy. And Karrie’s best friend, Phillipa Stoddard.”
Donnar wrote their names down. Six girls in total, three dead.
“Did your daughter have a boyfriend or girlfriend?”
“No. I don’t think so. But, you know kids these days.”
“No one’s ever stalked her or sent her threatening messages?”
She shook her head.
“And who were her friends? Besides the girls you named.”
“She’s never had a lot of friends. She had been close Phillipa since grade school, and she seemed close to the other girls in the book club.”
“And did all the girls attend Rogers High School?”
“Yeah. I’m pretty sure they did. They all had Ms. Franklin for a teacher at one point.”
Detective Donnar pulled out his card from his jacket pocket. “If you think of anything else, don’t hesitate to call me. And…there’s a number for a grief counselor on the back. Call him, or someone else. Trust me. They’re very helpful.”
He stood up and headed back into the Medical Examiners office. He was eager to run the new names through the system and see what he could come up with. Phillipa Stoddard reported missing this morning by her parents. Same with Sable Purcell. The name Christy generated a few hits, but another missing person report had been filed for a Christy Leonardson, age 17, Junior at Rogers High School.
He called the parents number listed on the cast. “Hello!” a woman answered, hope burning in her voice. “Christy?”
“I’m afraid not.”
“Oh.” All the energy fell out of her voice.
“I’m Detective Donnar, Pierce County Sheriffs, are you Shantel Leonardson?”
“Yes.” Her voice was tight with fear.
“I’m calling because your daughter’s name may have come up in a case I’m working. Was she part of a book club.”
“She was. From her High School. Arranged by her old biology teacher. The news says Ms. Franklin was murdered along with a few students. Is she…”
“As far as I know, she’s fine,” I told her. “Is your husband there?”
“No. He’s out looking for Christy.”
“Ms. Franklin and three of the girls in your daughter’s book club were found dead early this morning.”
“Oh, Lord,” she gasped.
“Your daughter and two of the other girls in the club are missing.”
“But you didn’t find her dead?”
“No, ma’am. Do you know where you daughter was supposed to be last night?”
“She went over to her husband’s house,” she answered. “He told me she ran away from home and left him a note. He doesn’t know where she is.”
“What’s her husband’s name and phone number?” Donnar asked.
His heart beat faster. “Last name?”
Could it be the same Kyle’s whose damaged fender we found at the same crime scene.
Fumi… the wind whispered.
The Japanese Yuki-onna opened her eyes. The snow swirled around above her, whipped by a wind, and outlining the figure of a woman. The woman hovered over her, two blue eyes glowing with compassion.
“Yes,” Fumi struggled to say. The cold had almost stolen all the energy out of her.
“Yes. I need to love Kyle, only…”
Fumi nodded. “How can I be with him?”
To be continued…
Click here for Chapter 13.
I have released a new Devil’s Pact Side-Story, part of the revamped, publication version. Read this post for more information if you’re interested!by