The Battered Lamp
Chapter Seventeen: The Decision of the Mother
© Copyright 2014
Story Codes: Male/Teen female, Teen male/Teen female, Teen male/Female, Nonconsensual, Caution, Incest, Watersports, Teen female Masturbation, Oral Sex
For a list of all the Battered Lamp Chapters click here, and for the Devil’s Pact click here
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 16.
Note: Thanks to b0b for being my beta reader.
Cast of Characters
Kyle Unmei Jr.: Half-Japanese/Half-Kurdish owner of Aaliyah and wielder of Earthbones
Aaliyah Unmei: A Jann sent to marry the prophesied savior of the Djinn. Kyle’s First Wife.
Fatima Unmei : Kyle’s younger sister and wife, wielder of Fireheart, and in a magical coma cursed by Ms. Franklin.
Christy Unmei nee Leonardson: Kyle’s long-time girlfriend turned third wife. She was a member of Ms. Franklin’s dark coven and betrayed Kyle and Aaliyah. Out of guilt, she fled to find redemption with the Goddess Ishtar.
Nakamura Fumi: Kyle’s girlfriend. She’s a Yuiki-onna, a succubus like creature that feeds on semen and will kill any man that cums in her pussy. She is in Japan looking for a way to be with Kyle. Wielder of Windfeather.
Britney Kingston: Kyle’s best friend since elementary school. She is a Rakshasa and has sworn to defend Kyle. She is a hermaphrodite and has claimed Phillipa as her mate. Wielder of Waterclaw.
Principal Burke: A man posing as the principal of Kyle’s school and a powerful warlock who desires Aaliyah and her power.
Sultan Rashid ibn al-Marid: The despotic ruler of the Djinn and leader of the Marid clan. Wants Aaliyah dead to thwart the prophecy.
Zaritha: An Ifrit serving the despotic ruler of the Djinn and sent to kill Aaliyah. She was instead captured by Burke and forced to serve him, sent to Japan to kill Fumi and retrieve Windfeather.
Detective Donnar: The homicide detective investigating the deaths of Ms. Franklin and her coven. Kyle is his prime suspect.
Sable Purcell: Also known as Tourmaline, she was a member of Ms. Franklin’s witch coven. After the coven’s defeat, she serves Burke and is on a mission to kill Christy for betraying the coven.
Erinyes: The vengeful daughter of Hecate hunting Christy for betraying her oaths to the Goddess Hecate.
Ms. Franklin: The deceased servant of Burke and leader of the coven. Also known as Celestite.
Chyna Unmei nee Coel: Kyle’s first concubine. Ms. Franklin cast a spell on Kyle and Chyna, forcing them into a slave/master relationship.
Shannon Unmei nee Coel: Chyna’s hot mom and Kyle’s second concubine.
Alexina Unmei nee Kendrick: Blonde concubine.
Carla Unmei nee Tyler: Redhead concubine.
Antonette “Toni” Unmei nee Buckley: Cheerleader concubine.
Daniella “Ms. Capello” Unmei nee Capello: Kyle’s English teacher and concubine.
Lois Unmei nee Smilingfox: A lesbian Domme that serves Kyle as a concubine.
Ann Unmei nee Weaver: Fatima’s friend and strawberry-blonde hair.
Kayleah Unmei nee Peterson: Fatima’s bleached blonde concubine and former rival.
Teleisia Unmei nee Otis: Aaliyah’s African American concubine.
Phillipa Kingston nee Stoddard: Former member of Ms. Franklin’s coven where she was known as Jade. Captured by Britney, Phillipa submitted to Britney and became her mate, discovering that she is a masochist.
Faiza Unmei: Kyle and Fatima’s widowed mother. Has been asked out on a date by Principal Burke.
Mrs. Skinner: Kyle’s math teacher.
Braiden Smythe: Kyle’s former friend. Braiden is in love with Christy and makes passes at her.
Corey Derrickson: Kyle’s friend and master of Aleah, his concubine.
Iris: The daughter of Ishtar and the spiritual guide of Christy on her path of redemption through the Spirit Realm.
Mrs. Skinner: Kyle’s first period math teacher and Aaliyah’s third period math teacher.
Sunday, January 26th – Kamifurano
Fumi was drawn out of sleep by a strong set of hands on her. “I need to sleep, Ando,” she protested, pushing his hands away. They were like iron, not letting go. “I mean it. You’ve had enough for one night.”
“I need more, little slut,” Ando hissed.
Fumi sighed, opening her eyes. She could just make out the form of the handsome, young man she had fucked in exchange for staying in his hotel room. Her ass was full of his wonderful cum and he had pumped quite a few loads into her this evening. But she needed sleep. She was traveling up the mountain to the Yukishoujo-no-onsen, the hot spring where she hoped to be granted a boon. She wanted to make love to Kyle, and he couldn’t so long as her pussy would kill him.
She hated being a Yuki-onna.
“I need more now,” he hissed, his hands tightening on her shoulder.
“Stop that. You’re hurting me.”
She pushed the last bits of sleep off her mind as her heart beat faster. This wasn’t right. His voice sounded different. “Ando? What?”
He pined her down, his body atop her. “I’m gonna have so much fun with you.”
“Get off me!” She pushed on his body, digging her fingernails into his flesh.
He grunted in pain and she pulled her right foot up, planting it against his stomach and pushed hard. He stumbled back and she rolled over, trying to get to the edge of the bed, her heart racing. Something was really wrong. His voice was different, and she wasn’t shedding any pheromones, so he shouldn’t be inflamed with passion right now. She reached for the cylindrical, bow case on the floor that held the special yumi Kyle had given her.
“Bitch!” he snarled, grabbing her ankle and hauling her across the bed.
She kicked with her free foot, catching him in the balls. “Help! Help!”
“Goddamn slut!” he grunted, doubling over, but his grip didn’t slacken. His hand shot down, grasping other leg. She struggled, trying to kick her legs free from his grip. “You are going to pay for that, bitch. You hurt my cock. You need to kiss it to make me better.”
“I’ll bite it,” she hissed. “Asshole!”
He pulled her across the bed until her butt rested at the edge, her legs around his body. She tried to squeeze her thighs shut, but he leaned over her pressing his groin against her. He leered down at her and she slapped at his face, digging her fingernails into his cheek, leaving blood furrows as she scratched.
“We are going to have so much fun.”
“Help!” Panic filled her. He was so much stronger than her. “Someone help—”
His mouth kissed hers hard, almost chewing on her lips. His hand found her breasts, squeezing hard, then pulling on her nipple. She groaned as pleasure flooded through her and she could smell her scent filling the air. Her body writhed, responding to his touch. She was a Yuki-onna, a succubus, and she thrived on sex.
She ground her pussy against him, kissing him back. Her fear melted into passion, her legs wrapped around his hips as she humped against him, his rough jeans rubbing against the sensitive lips of her pussy, stroking her aching clitoris.
“You are a slut,” he laughed, pinching her nipple so hard the pain and pleasure mixed inside her. His other hand seized her throat, squeezing hard. She couldn’t breath, the blood pounding inside her head. She didn’t stop humping him as her vision fuzzed. “It’s a shame I have to kill you. I would love to keep you.”
He let go of her breast, still squeezing her throat, relaxing for a moment so she could suck in a sweet breath, then tightening. Her pleasure burned fierce inside her. She never felt anything like this. She was so aware of everything that was going on. His belt buckle rattled, his zipper hissed, his cock smacked her pussy, hard and thick.
“Fuck…me…” she hissed, forcing the air past his tight fingers.
His hand relaxed. “Fuck me! I need your hard cock!” Her body hungered, awakened by the adrenaline pumping through her body.
He squeezed. His cock buried into her pussy. Pleasure exploded through her. Hot and fast, a searing wind that left her bucking as she struggled to cry out her passion. Stars danced before her vision, her fingers and toes tingled. Her head lolled to the side, savoring the feel of his cock pumping in and out of her pussy. So wonderful. She could feel every inch of him inside her velvet, hungry sheath.
Her vision narrowed, her blood screaming through her mind. Her pussy convulsed again, another rolling wave of pleasure orgasmed through her body. She couldn’t do anything more then lay there and be lost in the pleasure as the world retreat. Her lungs burned, her pussy was on fire. Her vision was almost gone.
Molten fire exploded inside her. Her cum spasmed through her body as her pussy drank every drop of his sweet cum. Such energy burned through her, fueling her body, her vision suddenly coming back clear as day.
“Yes!” he hissed, his hips drawing back to spill another load inside her. “Such pleasure!” His back arched, his fingers crushed her throat.
Then her pussy devoured his life, sucking it out of his cock and feeding her. For months she had starved herself, subsisting on blowjobs and anal sex. And now she had her feast. She drank every drop the man possessed. His hand went limp, sweet air sucked into her throat, and he collapsed on her, his body cold as ice.
She had drained him dry.
Fumi pushed him off of her, panting, her throat burning, her mind struggling to think. Guilt and relief flooded her. I killed another man.
He tried to kill me.
Someone must have cast a spell on him.
She froze at that thought. That one witch had escaped at the cabin? Was she out for revenge or were there other enemies of Kyle’s that they did not know about? Fear clutched her heart. She scrambled off the bed, grabbing her stuff. She had to get out of here. Whomever had enchanted Ando would be coming to investigate his work.
“I’m sorry, Ando,” she whispered as she grabbing her cloths from off the floor, his cum leaking down her legs. She didn’t have time to clean up. She needed to get to the hot spring as fast as possible so she could get back to Kyle.
She pulled on her thick snow pants, two heavy sweaters and a thick jacket. She opened the case that held Windfeather, drawing the yumi out. The bow was the most finely crafted yumi she had ever possessed, the dark wood inlaid with a strange, green metal that didn’t harm the bow’s flex at all. She could suddenly feel the air swirling in the room, sense the subtle eddies and currents thanks to the bow.
Fumi almost went out the front door, but her fear stopped her, freezing her gloved hand on the knob. What if they’re outside? They could be watching. I need to be smart.
She retreated to the bathroom, opening the window. She was on the second floor and peered out at the snowy ground below. More snow fell, black specks in the darkness. She drew on the bow, forming a wind blowing up the side of the building, snow whipping into her face, and leaped out.
She floated like a feather to the ground, cradled by her wind, landing in the calf-high snow. She had memorized the map. The trail to the hot spring should be to her left. She set out into the snowy night, fear hammering in her heart.
I’m running through a snowy mountainside. Didn’t I dream something like that? She tried to remember the dream she had on the plane. But she had been so tired. She vaguely remembered that she was stumbling blind through the snow, being hunted by something.
“I’m not blind. It must have just been a coincidence.”
She threw a look over her shoulder anyways. All she saw was snow falling, burying her footsteps.
Zaritha hated the snow.
She was a being of fire, haunting the deserts. This freezing water irked her. She stood in the falling snow, the delicate flakes flashing into steam right before touching her skin. The drift she stood in had melted, steam rising about her, exposing the green grassy verge beside the plowed road, her eyes fixed on the hotel room.
It had been two hours since Ando had entered the motel room. She had told the human to make her suffer. Surely she had suffered enough in this amount of time. Worry began eating at her. She cursed the rules that creation had placed on her race. Why had they been given all their power if they couldn’t use it how they pleased?
Not like these barbarous humans. They could do what they want, creation didn’t care. How she hated them all. Particularly her master. The slave bracers burned on her wrists, demanding that she go in there and kill little Fumi. But no Hidden Person could kill a mortal. Her people could do a lot to one, control them, torture them, but not directly kill one.
And her pawn was taking far too long.
With a flare of irritation she flashed into a whirlwind of fire, streaking through the sky to the second floor walkway, rematerializing before the door. She didn’t want to walk through the heavy snow if she didn’t have to.
The door was locked. So she knocked.
No one answered.
She grasped the knob, flooding it with her fire. The brass glowed red, deforming and melting into a blob that fell in a sizzling mess around her hand to drip on the cement floor. The door creaked open an inch. She pushed it open, summoning a ball of fire to light the hotel room up.
Her puppet was dead, his pants around his ankle.
“Si’lat whore,” she cursed. “How did that little girl kill you?”
The corpse didn’t answer. They never did in Zaritha’s experience.
She examined the dead man. He was young and fit, his body compact and muscled. She didn’t see any wounds on him or smell any blood on the air. His throat was unmarred, there was no foam about his lips. She moved her flame over him, illuminating his flesh, and froze over his groin. His cock was black and shriveled. Dessicated.
“The little thing isn’t human,” Zaritha purred, a tremble going through her body. The rules had changed. Excitement burned through the Ifrit. She scanned around, wondering where the little thing had fled. What sort of powers did she possess? The shriveled cock implied a succubus. “No teleportation or flight then. But the little thing could be hiding.”
The hotel room wasn’t large. It took her a minute to figure out where Fumi had fled. The bathroom window was open. She flashed down to the ground, snow steaming around her. A trail led off into the snowy forest.
The Ifrit smiled and pursued her prey.
South Hill, Washington
Kyle woke up early on Sunday. He couldn’t sleep. He was so close to helping Fatima wake up. The Panacea glowed like a rainbow on his dresser, its soft light scintillating through his bedroom, falling on the naked flesh of his concubines cuddling across his huge bed. Aaliyah slept in his arms, her dark hair falling across her dusky face.
His cock was half-hard and his bladder was full. He carefully crawled over the piles of beautiful women, trying not to wake up his concubines. The room was at the perfect temperature. Not too hot, not too cold, but just right for a person to sleep naked without covers. He paused at the doorway, admiring their lush beauty.
Through his bedroom door was a hallway. Each of his, Fatima’s, and Aaliyah’s concubines had their own smaller room, with another four rooms set aside for his wives. No one had slept in their beds yet. The hallway led to a large sitting room. It was more like his own living room. His Xbox was hooked up to the huge TV hanging on one wall, the floor strewn with bean bags and pillows. There was a new door leading to Britney and Phillipa’s room.
He exited the extra-dimensional space his bedroom resided in—Aaliyah’s explanation made his head ache, though Kyle was sure Britney would perfectly grasp the concept—and reentered regular space.
“Kyle!” his mom gasped.
Kyle flushed, realizing he was naked and his hands covered his cock. “Um, sorry, Mom.”
She stood in a silk, blue robe and he couldn’t help but admire the way it clung to her lush figure. His mom was the poster-woman of MILF’s. His cock swelled, getting harder to hide behind his hands. He wanted to make love with her. He needed to. The next step in healing his sister demanded it. The Panacea needed to be attuned to his sister, drawing on the energy of the two people closest to Fatima—her brother and mother.
Only his mother had said no.
“I wasn’t thinking.”
“It’s okay.” Her dusky cheeks colored. “I’ve seen it before.”
“I was just going to the bathroom.”
She nodded, her eyes staring up at the ceiling.
“So, I should…”
“Yeah, I guess you should,” she answered.
“Um, have you thought about…it, Mom?”
“I have.” She shifted. “I didn’t sleep at all, to be honest. I’m just not sure…it’s so wrong, Kyle.”
“It’s for Fatima.”
Her eyes flicked down for a second. “I…I need more time to think.” She pushed past him, heading back into her bedroom. “I’m…I’m going for a walk.”
“It’s pouring down rain.” He could hear it drumming on the roof.”
“Good,” she muttered. “I need to cool…” She flushed more, then disappeared into her bedroom. Kyle couldn’t help but noticing the way her nipples pressed against her robe.”
“Can I help you with that, Master?” Chyna purred from behind him, pressing her large breasts into his back.
“I just need to pee.”
Her hand reached around him, finding his hard cock, her mouth sucked at his ear. “That’s what I meant. You’ve never pissed in my mouth. I want you to.”
“You’re such a good slave,” he whispered.
“I love you, Master.”
“I love you,” he answered. “You know it’s not as deep as I feel for Aaliyah.”
“I know. You love your wives more than us. We don’t mind.”
He turned, his hard cock brushing her naked stomach. Her lips were hungry as they kissed him. He ran his fingers through her dark-brown hair as her tongue darted into his mouth. He moaned, loving the taste of her.
She dropped to her knees, her heavy breasts sliding down his stomach, to grasp his dark brown cock in her dusky hands, stroking him to his full girth, then her mouth engulfed him. He groaned, leaning his left shoulder against the hallway wall as her tongue caressed the tip, her lips sucking. Her hazel eyes twinkled with eager delight.
He relaxed his bladder. That wonderful sensation of release poured out of him, straight into his concubine’s mouth. He groaned, savoring the degradation of his concubine. And the fact she willingly drank his piss only made it hotter. Her throat worked as she swallowed his flood, moaning her satisfaction.
“Dirty whore,” he groaned. “Drink my pee. Little slut!”
She swallowed harder, the tip of his cock itching with pleasure as he pissed in her hungry mouth. He loved the sound of her swallows, so wrong and obscene. This was true submission. It was so intoxicating. He would never need to piss in a toilet again. Not when he had a bedroom full of concubines that would be more than eager to demonstrate their love in such an intimate way.
His stream began to die out, until only a few spurts remained. She sucked every last drop out of him, then she bobbed her head. She had his piss, now she wanted his cum.
“That’s it, slut!” he groaned, his pleasure churning.
Chyna was a grade A cocksucker. He gripped her dark-brown hair, falling loose about her shoulders than in her usual pigtails, and fucked her mouth. She moaned in joy, her arms wrapping around his waist to seize his buttocks, squeezing and kneading him, pulling him into her mouth.
“You want my cum, don’t you, slut!”
She moaned a yes around his thrusting cock. He dove deeper, pressing down her throat. She didn’t resist. She was a submissive, loving concubine. Her lips reached the base of his shaft, kissing the tangled mat of his pubic hair, his balls slapping her chin.
His fingers tightened in her hair as his balls boiled. His cum flooded her mouth. She moaned louder, her tongue swirling about his cock, swirling his cum around her mouth before she swallowed his salty load.
“Thank you for your cum and piss, Master,” she smiled. She gave the tip of his cock a kiss.
“Thank you for loving me,” he whispered, stroking her hair.
She smiled at him. “Don’t worry about your mother. I saw her eyes. She’ll come around.”
“Will she?” he sighed.
“Why lust, Master!”
Detective Donnar knocked on the door. He had been at home watching the playoffs when his phone had rang. One of the missing girls had just showed up at her home, though her mother didn’t sound entirely pleased. He forced himself away from the close game. Twenty minutes later he was standing at the Stoddard residence.
Two women were shouting inside the house, muffled by the door.
He knocked again. Harder.
The door yanked open, a middle-aged man was there, his jowls ruddy. “Detective?” he blinked.
“Your wife called. Phillipa has turned up?”
“Yeah.” Another loud yell echoed from upstairs.
“Is everything all right?”
“Phillipa is moving out,” he answered. “Her mother is…discussing it with her.”
“Has she told you were she’s been?”
“Her girlfriend’s house.”
“Did you know your daughter had a girlfriend?” Donnar couldn’t remember any mention of Phillipa having a boyfriend or girlfriend.
“She didn’t seem to have anyone she dated. She had band, really dedicated to playing the trombone, and her book club.” Mr. Stoddard’s eyes tightened; the Detective had informed Phillipa’s parents some of the details of what really was going on in that club.
“So, who is this girlfriend?”
“She didn’t say. She and her mother have been going at it since…” He shrugged. “I retreated downstairs and let them screech at each other. Safer that way.”
Detective Donnar gave a snorting laugh. “Has your daughter ever disappeared like this before?”
“Never. She’s a model student. Get’s straight A’s. I don’t know what’s gotten into her.”
Feet thumped down the stairs and Phillipa appeared, a heavy suitcase clutched in one hand. She was a beautiful teen, her skin pale-olive, vaguely Asian, with those slanted eyes. Her mother, a middle-aged, oriental woman was behind her, shouting loudly and rapidly in Korean.
“I’m eighteen!” Phillipa snarled. “I can move out if I want to!”
“Your father and I worried sick about you. And you just want to leave. Where were you?”
“At my girlfriend’s! And it’s where I’m heading to.”
Her mother seized her arm. “You will not. My daughter is no…lesbian!”
“Well, I am! And Britney and I are getting married!”
“Britney?” the detective asked. “Britney Kingston?” How interesting. She’s involved with Kyle’s best friend.
Phillipa froze, gazing at the detective, then she looked at the ground. “Yes,” she whispered.
“Can I ask you some questions? I’m Detective Donnar with the Pierce County Sheriff’s department.”
“I need to get to my girlfriend. She’s expecting me.” She didn’t look up. Phillipa is neck deep in this mess.
“When was the last time you saw Rashawn Underhill?”
“Um, at school on Wednesday.” She continued staring at her feet.
“And Lorrie Gore?”
“Do you know where Christy Leonardson or Sable Purcell are?”
She shook her head. “I haven’t seen them since, um, Wednesday.”
“Have you ever been to Ms. Franklin’s cabin?”
She looked up, making her eyes go wide, trying to look innocent. “She has a cabin?”
Phillipa was a terrible liar.
“Were you at the cabin?”
Her gaze dropped. “No.” Her hand rubbed at her neck.
“Do you know what happened to your friends?”
“At your girlfriend’s?”
She nodded. “I need to get going. She’s waiting for me.”
“And where were you Wednesday night?”
“I went over to my girlfriend’s house after school. We never left her bedroom except to eat and, you know.”
“And she can verify your story?”
She quickly nodded.
“Is Britney threatening you? Or Kyle Unmei?”
She flinched, then shook her head vigorously, her hand reaching up to rub at her neck, the hem of her sweater slipping down and revealing red marks on her wrists—restraint marks. “Britney would never do that. She loves me. Can I go?”
“Are you okay?” he asked her, reaching out to touch her red wrist.
She yanked her sweater sleeve back down. “I’m fine. Britney and I were just…playing…with handcuffs.”
Teens are so wild these days. He pulled out a card. “If you think of any reason why your friends and Ms. Franklin could have been at the cabin, let me know.”
She took the card, pushed past the Detective and headed out to her car, throwing the suitcase in the trunk. He watched her drive off, excitement churning inside him. Here was another connection with Kyle Unmei. That young man sat at the center of everything. His gut told him so. He almost had enough to get a search warrant for Kyle’s house. He just needed those forensic reports on the shoe prints. One last piece of evidence to tie Kyle to the murder scene.
Slow and steady always wins the race.
Kyle found himself sitting on the couch, trying to watch the playoff game. Seattle was fighting to go to the Super Bowl, but that hardly seemed to matter right now. His mom had left on her walk hours ago. He had tried to call her, but she wasn’t answering.
“She’s fine,” Aaliyah assured him for the hundredth time.
“She’s been gone for hours,” he muttered as his wife lay cuddled on his lap. They were in the living room, not his bedroom, and his concubines were scattered on the floor, cheering at the game. There were a surprising number of Seahawk fans among his women.
“You made your wish, my love. I’m aware of her. She is fine. I can summon her if you want.”
“No,” he sighed. “She needs time to think. But she is fine, right?”
Aaliyah gave him a patient smile. “She is. I bet she’ll be—”
The front door opened. Kyle sat up, hope burning. “Boy it is really raining out there, Kyle,” Britney called. His hopes crashed and burned. “I am not a fan of it.”
Britney walked into the bedroom, wiping her glasses on the edge of her baggy sweatshirt, her dagger Waterclaw tucked into her sweatpants. Her normally bushy-brown hair was a sodden mess matted to her head and shoulders. Behind her, Phillipa tottered in, her hands clasped, looking down at the floor.
“Don’t be shy,” Kyle told her. “You’re one of us now.”
Phillipa gave him a shy smile. Then she saw Aaliyah. “I’m so sorry. We had to obey her. None of us joined up to…do those things.”
Aaliyah nodded her head. “Are you truly sorry?” His wife had her dark eyes fixed on the witch.
“With all my heart. It was terrible what we did.” A tear ran down Phillipa’s cheek.
“Then you are forgiven.”
“We have a problem,” Britney said, sitting on the couch next to him, water dripping off the end of her hair.
Aaliyah gave her a frown. “You’re dripping water everywhere.”
Britney blushed. “My apologies, Aaliyah.”
“I wish Britney and Phillipa were dry to keep the house clean.”
Britney’s hair was suddenly its normal, bushy self. Britney didn’t even flinch. “Thank you, Aaliyah.”
“So, what’s the problem.”
“Detective Donnar accosted Phillipa today. I do not think your interview on Friday went as well as you had hoped.”
Kyle blinked. When he had spoken to the Detective at school on Friday, Kyle had thought it went great. Last night, he had chatted with Britney in a Google Hangout about the interview, catching her up on all that had happened while she had been cooped up with Phillipa. “No. It went fine. I’m sure of it. He never even accused me of anything.”
“Well, he seemed quite interested in you. When he learned that Phillipa was dating me, he instantly brought your name up. He asked Phillipa where she was and, I suspect, he will be contacting me to verify her alibi.”
“Fuck,” Kyle muttered. “Other than Christy, how did they even connect the dots?”
“We must have missed some clue we left at the cabin. We did leave in a hurry and modern forensic techniques are not to be scoffed out.”
“Great. One more thing to stress about.”
“And have you had coitus with your mother yet?”
“Geez, Britney, you always find the way to take the fun out of anything. Even sex.”
“So that is a no?”
Kyle sighed. “She’s been on a walk for hours thinking.”
“Perhaps you should make a wish. I am sure your wife can help smooth things out.”
“Definitely. But Kyle has such modern notions of free will. I haven’t fully corrupted him yet.”
“That’s the line,” Kyle reminded his wife.
“Yes, yes. Being a man of principle is also a good thing,” she smiled, leaning over to kiss him on the cheek.
Britney pulled a textbook from her backpack, opening it up.
“Really. The game is on.”
“This is far more interesting.”
Kyle turned back to the game. It was a close one. Normally, he’d be on the edge of his seat, his heart in his throat, but he could only think about Fatima, Fumi, and Christy. He wanted his wives back. All of them. He felt so helpless. He had finally seized some initiative, and he was back to waiting again. It’s so damned frustrating.
*Be patient, my love,* Aaliyah whispered in his mind. *You will not have long to wait.*
He turned to Aaliyah. “What does that mean?”
“She’s walking up to the house. My homunculi see her.”
Kyle was on his feet, heading to the front door when it opened and there was his mom, wet and lovely. She wore her jogging outfit, purple sweats, a clear, vinyl poncho draped over her clothing. Her black hair was matted to her face, water running down the beauty of her face.
“Mom…” His heart beat faster. Hope burned.
She looked at him for a moment. And then, like some spring snapped inside her, she shot forward, her arms wrapping around his neck, pulling him to her. Her mouth was hot and spicy, her wet poncho pressed against him, soaking through his shirt as her lush body writhed against him. His cock was hard in an instant as he kissed her back. His mom was a great kisser.
He scooped her in his arms. She was light, her arm tight around his neck. She never stopped kissing him. His dad had been dead for five years and she had not been on a date or taken a lover in all those times. All her bottled up desires seemed to be burning out of her as his mother submitted to him. He heard his concubines and wife cheer as they headed upstairs for her bed.
He sat her down when they entered her room, pulling the drenched poncho off her. Even in baggy sweats, his mother was gorgeous—Fatima matured to full beauty. He grabbed the hem of her sweatshirt, pulling it up over her wet hair. Her breasts were heavy, trapped in a cream bra.
“This is so wrong,” she whispered, reaching behind her to unclasp her bra, freeing her wonderful, large breasts, dusky and topped with fat, brown nipples.
“I don’t care,” Kyle groaned, leaning down and sucking one of her nipples into his lips. He had nursed on these as a child, and now he was nursing again. She moaned, cradling him.
“That’s it. Love Mommy’s tits. How I missed nursing you and your sister.”
His hands slid down to shove the bottoms of her sweatpants off her hips, the loose material sliding to the floor, and he squeezed her panty-covered ass. She was plump and wonderful, groaning as he sucked and kneaded her. His fingers dipped into her panties, touching the bare flesh of his mother’s ass.
“I need it,” she groaned, pushing away from him. “I need a man so bad! I miss him, Kyle.”
“I know,” he whispered.
She touched his face. “You look so much like him. Just as handsome.”
“And you’re gorgeous, Mom!”
Their lips met again, her hands pushing beneath his short to run across the muscles of his stomach and chest, then she dipped down to his jeans, fumbling at the button, pushing inside his boxers to grip his hard cock, stroking him, her thumb running across the tip of his cock.
“Fuck me, Kyle,” she moaned, pulling his cock out. “Fuck your naughty mother!”
He ripped off his shirt. “I’m going to, Mom.”
She shuddered, falling down onto her bed, her lovely breasts jiggling, her lithe legs stretching. He pushed his boxers and pants down, his cock pointing ahead, straight at her pussy. He reached out, sliding down her lithe legs to her cream panties, pulling them down her legs. He could smell her tart arousal, similar to Fatima’s musk but stronger. Her pussy was surrounded by a forest of silky-black hair, her pussy pink and inviting. He lowered his face, licking through his mother’s slit, savoring the taste of her. He dived back in, exploring every part of her.
“Oh, Kyle! You’ve been practicing. So good!” Her thighs tightened about his cheeks as his tongue probed her deep hole, his nose nuzzling against her clit. Her body shook, her hands pulling his head tight against her pussy. “So good! It’s been so long since anyone touched me down there! Oh, Kyle! Yes, yes, yes!”
Her hand shoved him tight against her pussy. Her hips bucked, smearing her tasty cunt across his lips. He drank the flood of her climax down, savoring every tart drop. He was smothered by her motherly love.
“Fuck me!” she moaned. “I need your cock! I need my son’s big cock inside me! Mommy’s been so horny! Give it to me!”
He rose up, his cock throbbing, and crawled up her body. He buried his face between her tits as her hips humped him, rubbing her hot pussy against his stomach. Her hands gripped his shoulders, pulling him up until his cock nudged her pussy lips. She kissed him, moaning into his lips as he reached down to guide himself into her hole.
He teased her pussy, then dove into her.
She was so hot and wet. And it struck him. He was born from her. This was his mother’s pussy he was fucking. His hips pumped as they kissed, driving his cock in and out of the most taboo hole he could possibly fuck. His mother was hot and wonderful, her hips writhing, her cunt squeezing about him.
He was lost to the sensuality of her forbidden hole, matching her rhythm, moaning into her lips as they made love to each other. Her arms wrapped around him, hugging him with the fierce love of a mother. His hands roamed her body, sliding up her sides, squeezing her breasts, exploring her thighs. She was silky smooth and so hot beneath his touch.
“Kyle!” she gasped as her body quaked beneath him. Her pussy convulsed, milking his cock.
The Panacea! He had forgotten to grab the stone in his haste, so caught up in the eroticism of his mother. He tried to pull back, to fight off his release, but her pussy was milking his cock, her limbs holding him tight.
“Cum in me, Kyle!” she moaned. “Let Mommy feel your love!”
His balls tightened. His cock throbbed. His release was moments away.
I wish the Panacea was here so I can fix Fatima!
The Panacea’s light flooded the room, painting their naked bodies with rainbow. The Panacea lay next to them. Kyle grabbed it, holding it to his mom. She grabbed it with her hand. He stared into his mother’s eyes and exploded into the very pussy that had given birth to him.
“Yes!” she shuddered, another orgasm roiling through her. “That’s it!”
The stone flared blindingly bright for a moment, and he could feel something change inside it. The Panacea was ready. He shoved it between their thighs, pressing the warm stone against her pussy and the shaft of his cock, letting it drink in their mix of cum and pussy juices.
He collapsed on his mom, nuzzling her neck.
“That was amazing,” she whispered.
“It was,” he agreed.
“This was the only time it’ll ever happen,” she whispered.
“I know.” He stroked her face and kissed her lips. “I love you, Mom.”
She smiled. “I love you, too.”
Mount Asashi, Hokkaido, Japan
The sun had set hours ago by the time Fumi reached the hot spring. She was a Yuki-onna and the mountains of Hokkaido where no hindrance to her. She raced through the blizzard that had descended, holding her path with unerring direction. It was slow going slogging through the snow, but she was fueled by poor Ando’s life force.
And Yukishoujo-no-onsen, the hot spring, beckoned to her. The higher she climbed the mountain, the stronger it pulsed in her mind, guiding her, drawing her. It was a place of power, and it wanted her to find it. The fear of her pursuer dropped away as the hope blossomed inside her.
I’m going to be with Kyle fully!
It was a small, green pool bubbling on a rocky shelf surrounded by snow. The waters seemed to glow faintly, lighting up the darkness. Steam danced on the surface and she could feel the heat from ten meters away. She stripped naked, carefully setting her clothes on the rocky shelf before slipping into the warm waters.
She relaxed in the hot water, letting it drain the ache out of her muscles as she floated on the steamy depths. Her hair fanned out as she drifted, staring up at the dark skies and watched the heavy snow fall down, landing on her naked body, the flakes melting on her lithe flesh.
A great desire stirred in her loins, hot and demanding. Her hand slid down to her pussy, lightly playing with her pussy lips. Her lust grew as she teased herself, running up and down her slit, growing wet with more than the spring’s water.
It felt right to touch herself. She could almost feel something watching her. A kami, a divine spirit, inhabited the spring and a naughty thrill went through her. It wanted to watch her, and she burned to be watched. Her finger slowly entered her tight hole, setting off the nerves buried inside her.
“Aren’t I beautiful?” she purred to the voyeuristic entity as she stirred her pleasure.
The warmth soaked through her, mixing with the pleasure her probing finger generated. Such wonderful bliss. Her other hand slid up, the water rippling around her, to grasp her small breasts, pinching her small-olive nipple. Cold snow landed on her breasts and face, kissing her. This is where she belonged. This is where her kind were from—the snowy mountains of Hokkaido.
But Kyle was where she wanted to be. Needed to be.
She pictured his handsome face, his skin light-brown, his dark eyes slanted like a Japanese man, his chin rugged and strong like a Middle-Eastern. His strong body pressed against her, his rough hands stroking her. She pushed a second finger into her pussy and a third, pretending his cock was inside her, pumping away, flashing back to that magical, dangerous night he had actually entered her.
“Kyle!” she moaned to the snowy night. “My love! I need him!”
Her orgasm built, churning inside her. Her body shuddered in the blissful water, the scent of lilies filling her nose—her pheromones. Her gasps grew shrill, her fingers pumping away with the same vigor Kyle had fucked her. She groaned his name as molten heat rushed through her, her muscles clenching as rapture flooded her entire body.
She spasmed one last time, her pleasure retreating, her breath coming in ragged gasp. She opened her eyes, smiling, bringing her damp fingers to her lips and tasting her delightful flavor.
Something touched her ass, caressing her. The watching kami of the hot spring whispered in her mind, My Yuki-onna…
South Hill, WA
The man who called himself Principal Burke pulled his cell phone out of his pocket, holding his red, leather whip between his arm and side. The lovely Mrs. Skinner gasped and moaned as she shuddered in the chains. She taught math at his school and her students included Kyle and Aaliyah. Her husband, who taught computer science, sat in the corner of his dungeon, blindfolded, listening to his wives pleas and cries while he blubbered for mercy. Two members of Burke’s coven, Shadow and the Vicar, watched the sobbing couple.
Burke smiled at the caller ID and handed the whip to Shadow, the dark-skinned woman smiling as she took it, cracking it down on Mrs. Skinner’s back. Burke climbed his stairs at a hurried pace, the phone ringing and ringing, shutting his basement door behind him before he answered it.
“Faiza,” he said, slipping into the persona of Principal Burke.
“I was seeing if you still wanted to go out on a date.”
A smile creased his lips. “Has something changed with your daughter?” There was something different about the woman. He could hear it in her voice.
“Maybe. There are some…promising developments.” Life danced in her voice; his cock hardened. He could not wait to get his hands on the woman. “Anyways, I’m free Monday night.”
“It’s a date,” he smiled. “I’ll pick you up, say, six?”
“That’s fine.” He loved the excitement in her voice. Kyle had power and Burke knew he would need some insurance.
To be continued…
Click here for Chapter 18.
I have released Part 4 of the revamped, publication version of the Devil’s Pact. Read this post for more information if you’re interested!
Vote for which Devil’s Pact story gets released next! Click here for the poll! Ghost of Paris Interlude Chapter Two: The Police Officer won the last poll!by