Tag Archives: Voyeurism

The Devil’s Pact Ghost of Paris Chapter 12: Afternoon At the Park

 

 

The Devil’s Pact

The Ghost of Paris Chapter Twelve: Afternoon At the Park

by mypenname3000

edited by Master Ken

© Copyright 2014


Story Codes: Male/Teen female, Male/Teen females, Mind Control, Magic, Exhibitionism, Voyeurism, Oral Sex, Rimming, Anal Sex, Ass to Pussy

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 11.



Notes: Credit goes to PeacelovingXXX for the story behind this chapter.

Saturday, September 28th, 2013 – Paris, Texas

It was a warm, late September day as I strolled down the street towards Daniel Boone Park. A perfect, high-seventies day, with a gentle breeze keeping you cool. The girls were out in skimpy shorts and light tops, and my pecker was at full mast.
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The Battered Lamp Chapter 7: The Jealousy of the Witch

 

 

The Battered Lamp

Chapter Seven: The Jealousy of the Witch

by mypenname3000

© Copyright 2014


Story Codes: Teen male/Teen females, Teen male/Teen female, Mind Control, Magic, Wastersports, Incest, Oral Sex, Exhibitionism, Voyeurism, Domination/Submission, Ass to Mouth

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 mypenname3000@mypenname3000.com.



Click here for Chapter 6.



Note: Thanks to b0b for being my beta reader.

Monday, January 18th – South Hill, Washington

“So this is the wife?” Britney asked when she opened the door of Kyle’s car.
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The Battered Lamp Chapter Six: The Lust of the Warrior

 

 

The Battered Lamp

Chapter Six: The Lust of the Warrior

by mypenname3000

© Copyright 2014


Story Codes: Teen male/Teen female, Teen male/Female/Teen females, Female/Teen female, Magic, Watersport, Incest, Oral Sex, Exhibitionism, Voyeurism, Domination/Submission

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 mypenname3000@mypenname3000.com.



Click here for Chapter 5.



Note: Thanks to b0b for being my beta reader.

Saturday, January 17th – South Hill, Washington

Christy stumbled out of Ms. Franklin’s house. She felt so dirty. Last night she had given herself to Kyle, and today she had let her body be soiled by the teacher. She reached her car, slumping against it. Her lips still tasted of the teacher’s sour juices. I’m so sorry Kyle! She fought off her tears, feeling eyes upon her.
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Der Pakt mit dem Teufel Kapitel 33: Die Ruhe vor dem Sturm

 

 

Der Pakt mit dem Teufel

Kapitel 33: Die Ruhe vor dem Sturm

Von mypenname3000

Übersetzt von Horem

English version edited by Master Ken

© Copyright 2013, 2014


Story Codes: Male/Teen female, Male/Female, Male/Females, Male/Female/Teen female, Female/Female, Hermaphrodite/Female, Mind Control, Magic, Incest, Exhibitionism, Oral, Romantic, Lactation, Wife, Wedded Lust, Voyeurism

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 Kapitel 32.



Die letzten drei Wochen seit dem Überfall des SWAT, bei dem ich fast gestorben war, waren nur so verflogen. Und bevor ich es richtig wusste, war schon der 20. Juli. Die Sonne ging warm unter und die Brise war angenehm kühl. Die Luft war vom süßen Duft der wilden Blumen erfüllt. Hinten stand der Mount Rainier und dominierte den östlichen Himmel. Selbst im Sommer war seine Spitze weiß und blau wegen der vielen Gletscher. Eine Mütze aus weißen Wolken hing am Gipfel. Das waren die einzigen Wolken am Himmel.
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The Devil’s Pact Servants’ Chronicles Chapter 3: A Bodyguard’s Day

 

 

The Devil’s Pact Servants’ Chronicles

Chapter 3: A Bodyguard’s Day

by mypenname3000

© Copyright 2014


Story Codes: Female/Female, Female/Teen female, Mind Control, Magic, Femdom, Watersports, Voyeurism, Violence

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. To contact me, you can leave a comment or email me at mypenname3000@mypenname3000.com, and you can contact my editor by email at dionysus40@prodigy.net.



Click here for Chapter 2.



Notes: This takes between Chapters 46 and 47.

Thursday, February 14th, 2014 – Emine Mataraci “24” – Tacoma, WA

Something wet and warm nuzzled at my breast. A mouth sucking, nibbling, a tongue licking. My eyes fluttered open, a mewling sigh escaped my lips. Sandy-blonde hair spilled across my my dusky body as Jan sucked my nipple between her lush lips. Her brown eyes flashed up at me, and she smiled around my dark-brown nub.
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The Devil’s Pact Ghost of Paris Chapter 8: Public Transportation

 

 

The Devil’s Pact

The Ghost of Paris Chapter Eight: Public Transportation

by mypenname3000

edited by Master Ken

© Copyright 2014


Story Codes: Male/Female, Mind Control, Magic, Voyeurism, Exhibitionism, Anal Sex, Bondage/Domination, Public Sex, Cuckold

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 7.



Tuesday, September 17th, 2013 – Paris, Texas

I had just made a pact with Astarte, giving her Darleen Cummins—the mayor’s gorgeous, sixteen-year-old daughter—to possess for the night in exchange for unlimited sexual stamina, and now my pecker ached painfully. I had the worst case of blue balls I had ever felt in my life; I had to, needed to, find someone to stick my cock in and take the pressure off my nuts before they ruptured.
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The Devil’s Pact, Ghost of Paris Chapter 6: The Locker Room

 

 

The Devil’s Pact

The Ghost of Paris Chapter Six: The Locker Room

by mypenname3000

edited by Master Ken

© Copyright 2014


Story Codes: Male/Teen female, Male/Teen females, Mind Control, Magic, First, Incest, Anal Sex, Oral Sex, School, Exhibitionism, Voyeurism

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 5.



Monday, September 16th, 2013 – Paris, Texas

I stood at the scene of my very first crime—the girls locker room at Boone High School. When I was nineteen, I worked as a janitor at this very educational establishment. Being a voyeuristic horndog, I quickly figured out where to drill a small hole to let me peep on the fine, young things changing and showering and carrying on.

It was the best month of my life. At least, before I made my Pact to become invisible at will, it was.

The three years I spent in prison when I got caught were the worst years of my life.

But that was the past. Soon nubile, sweet, innocent, beautiful teenage girls would be filling this locker room, stripping off their clothes, showering and soaping their youthful charms, and I would be standing in the middle of it. My pecker was as hard as a concrete slab, throbbing painfully. I resisted touching it, waiting for the true show to begin.

A bell rang, and the girls started filtering in, talking like a flock of songbirds, chirping all the meaningless stuff of their lives. “You’ll never guess…” and “Oh, my god…” and “That slut…” filled the room. I didn’t pay their words any mind. Shirts came off, exposing their bras: plain, white bras; frilly bras; cute bras, complete with little bows; racy bras that pushed up youthful tits. Some girls boldly took off their bras, not caring if their classmates could see their perky flesh before they put on their sports bras or tank top bras, while others were shy, hunching their shoulders to protect their modesty.

I was in heaven, staring at panty-clad asses as girls bent over to pull on gym shorts. My hands reached out, giving plump butts a squeeze, groping a pair of budding breasts, or feeling sleek thighs. Girls would shriek, looking around confused as they saw nothing.

“It’s the Ghost,” giggled a girl, finally realizing what was up as I gave her ass a squeeze.

“Ohh,” another girl said with excitement. “The cheerleaders are all sluts for the Ghost. I’ve seen them disappearin’ behind the bleachers.”

“I know a girl that boasts ’bout the Ghost visitin’ her bed at night. She says the Ghost makes her cum better than any boy at our school.”

“That’s nasty,” another girl giggled.

“Let’s get goin’, girls,” a man yelled from the entrance of the locker room. “Get your butts out of there, or I’ll have you runnin’ laps all period.”

“We gotta go, Ghost. Don’t wanna have Coach Windbag makin’ us run.”

And they were gone, the few minutes I had with them over, my cock still hard. I should’ve just started fucking one right away. I laid down on the bench, waiting for their gym class to be over. One girl had caught my eye—shy, with braces. I didn’t get a good luck at her titties as she hid in the corner. But they’re gonna have to shower when they get back, and I bet I could have bit of fun with Miss Braces.

My thoughts were full of the black-haired freshman smiling at me, her braces glinting silver on her teeth, making her seem even more innocent. I just want to feel her tight cooch envelop my pecker, and shoot my cum inside her. I bet she’s never even been fucked before.

“You still here, Ghost?” a girl asked.

“Course I am, sweetness,” I answered in my best ghost impression.

The sweaty girls were filing in, giggling and looking around. Miss Braces looked at the ground, quickly heading for her locker. Like before, she was shy, stripping faster than a flash of lightning; blink and you would’ve missed it. The she made a beeline straight to the showers, a towel clutched about her body, protecting her youthful charms like a doe with her faun.

I followed.

She threw her towel over the metal stall, turned on the water, and stepped in. I watched her nubile body as she soaped her pale skin. Her breasts were lovely, a little larger than a handful, topped with tiny, red nipples. Her ass faced me, wiggling, and I pounced like a hungry lion.

“What in the blue hell!” she shrieked as I pressed her up against the shower stall, my hands finding her tits as my cock rubbed on her body. “Oh, no, stop!”

“Just relax, sweetness,” I purred. “I ain’t gonna hurt ya.” I nuzzled her neck, kissing her soft flesh.

“Oohh, looks like Lizzy and the Ghost be gettin’ acquainted!” giggled some girl. “Wild, I can see the water running down the Ghost’s body.”

Lizzy’s hands were braced against the metal shower stall as my pecker searched for her opening. She had stopped resisting, my wish starting to take effect – part of my deal with the Devil was that any girl I molested would enjoy it – and she moaned as my cock rubbed on her sweet cooch. I found the tight, spongy opening, and pressed in.

“Oh, wow!” she moaned. “He’s inside me pressin’ against my cherry!”

“Pop her cherry!” someone clapped. “Break her in for the football team!”

I felt something blocking my cock. Lizzy was an actual virgin with an actual cherry. I had begun to think it was a legend. I drew back and shoved forward; the tissue resisted for a moment, then it gave way before my pecker.

I whooped loudly. “Popped me a cherry!” A clap went up from the assembled girls as I pounded Lizzy’s formerly virgin cooch.

“Oh, geez!” she groaned. “Oh, my gosh! His cock’s slidin’ in and out of me!”

“How’s it feel?” someone called out.

“Pretty great!” she answered.

Her juicy cooch felt more than pretty great, it was fan-fucking-tastic: tight, wet, warm, spongy. I pushed her against the shower wall, warm water spraying us. I reached around, and gave those tiny tits – little more than bee stings, but her nipples were hard as diamonds – a nice grope. She gasped as I pinched her nipples, and her cunt tightened about my cock.

“Fuck her hard!” someone yelled out. “And make her cum!”

“Lizzy, you slut! Drain the Ghost’s balls!”

“Pound the little whore’s snatch proper good, Ghost!”

“Make her howl! Lizzy’s so uptight, she needs a good cum to mellow her out!”

I sucked on her neck hard, wanting to leave a hickey. Lizzy moved her hips, panting softly at first, then growing louder as I thrust into her depths. Her voice rose an octave. Her head threw back, braces flashing silver in her wide-open mouth, and she absolutely howled with pleasure. Her tight cooch spasmed about my cock. Nothing felt better than a teen’s cunt cumming about your pecker!

My balls were tightening, my cum nearing. I gripped her slippery hips, and thrust a few more times. “Fan-fuckin’-tastic!” I howled as I spilled my balls inside her.

“Oh, shoot! I think he just came inside me!” Lizzy groaned. “Oh, wow! That feels so wild! Oh, gosh, oh, gosh!” She quivered, her cunt squeezing on my softening cock, her black hair tossing as her orgasm burned through her.

“You was a great fuck, sweetness,” I said, slapping her ass and grabbing her towel. I dried myself off, leaving her panting in the shower.

Lizzy was the last to leave, hastily dressing, her cheeks flushed. She paused as the next group of girls filed in, and said, “Thank you, Mr. Ghost. I…um…I had fun!”

I gave her sweet ass one final squeeze. “Me, too, sweetness. You better skedaddle before I have another go at your hot cooch.”

She giggled, and slipped out of the locker room.

I didn’t do much with the next group but fondle a few breasts, letting them know the Ghost was here. My pecker needed a recharge after Lizzy’s sweet cooch. Which was a shame, because there were some god-damn-gorgeous girls. By the time the second period was over, my pecker had almost recovered.

A pair of smoking-hot twins trooped in with third period. My heart stopped. My pecker rose to full mast. I had to have them. They were slim and graceful, faces full of freckles and large, exuberant smiles. Their hair was a deep auburn; one had hers plaited in a French braid, while the other twin’s hair was streaked with blonde highlights. Miss Braid lifted up her frilly top, exposing a pair of small breasts in a lacy bra.

“Oh, my god, did you see Dillon?” Miss Highlights sneered. “That haircut. Eww, what was he thinkin’?”

“Right?” her sister added incredulously, her bra sliding off. Her nipples were dark pink.

I reached out and gave one a pinch. She froze, nipple hardening as I rolled it between my fingers. A small shudder passed through her. She tossed a look over her shoulder, eyes trembling with fear and lust. I pinched harder, and a soft mew, almost like a cat, escaped her lips.

“I was thinkin’ of lettin’ Dillon ask me out,” Miss Highlights continued, unaware of her sister’s plight. “No way now.”

I pressed my hard pecker against Miss Braid’s tight jean shorts, nuzzled her neck, and whispered, “Why don’t you slide down them shorts and panties off your purtee ass, and let me fuck your tight cornhole.”

“Maybe I should start flirtin’ with Shane. Matti dumped him, and he’s lookin’ so sad.” Miss Highlights shuddered, eyes squeezed closed. “I could make him feel all kinda better!”

Miss Braid unsnapped her jean shorts, sighing and writhing her ass against me. I had both my hands wrapped around her tits, kneading the pliant flesh. Her twin kept prattling on about some dumb boy as she unbuttoned her own blouse. The shorts fell off Miss Braid’s hips, then she peeled her panties down. Her ass was smooth and pale and plump, and my pecker nestled between her cheeks.

“After I’m done kissin’ him, Shane’d forget all ’bout the hussy who broke his heart!” Miss Highlights had a smile on her lips as her bra came off; her tits looked identical to her twin’s.

I spat on my hand, wetting my pecker, then spread her cheeks. Miss Braid gasped as I shoved my pecker into her tight cornhole. She was velvety tight and deliciously hot. Her sister looked at her and frowned.

“What are you doin’, Marissa?” Miss Highlights asked, then she reddened, and hissed, “What did you do to your butthole? It’s spread open.”

“I’m gettin’ buggered by the ghost, Rhonda-May,” Marissa moaned. “Ain’t you been payin’ attention?”
“Saint Peter’s ghost!” gasped Rhonda-May, hands clasping over her tits.

“I ain’t no saint,” I growled. “But I am a ghost! And your sister’s lovin’ my attention!”

“Shit!” Marissa hissed. “Oh, my god! His cock! Oh, wow! I didn’t know anal could feel good!”

Rhonda-May leaned into her sister. “Really? You’re likin’ it?”

My hand snaked out, pushing Rhonda-May’s protective arms away, and groped her tit. She gasped, and tried to pull away, but I got a good grip on her nipple, yanking her back. My wish affected her, and she relaxed, cheeks flushing and hips wiggling as her cooch grew hot and bothered.

“You two are gonna be late for gym!” a mousy girl called out, not realizing what was going on.

“Tell the coach Marissa ain’t feelin’ good!” Rhonda-May panted. “I’m helpin’ her out.”

“Oh, shit!” Marissa cursed, her face burning red. “There’s definitely somethin’ goin’ on in my butt!”

“Eww, TMI, Marissa,” the girl answered. “But I’ll let Coach Breeze know.”

“Why don’t you get out of that skirt, sweetness,” I told Rhonda-May. “Let me see your cooch!”

Her skirt unzipped down the side. Her panties were plain, but her cooch was shaved bare, passion glistening on her lips. I slid my hand down and shoved a finger inside her. She was as hot as her sister’s ass, and I pumped my finger in and out a few times, really stirring the slut out, while she gasped and panted. Then I pulled my finger out and tasted it.

“Shit. You taste as delicious as cranberry dressin’!” I hooted. I gave Marissa’s ass a slap. “Why don’t you give your sister a taste.”

“Marissa!” Rhonda-May gasped as her sister’s finger shoved inside her. “What the fuck?”

“Sorry,” Marissa answered, digging her finger deep inside her sister’s cooch.

“Well…ummm…you shouldn’t,” panted her sister.

Marissa pulled out her finger, drenched in her sister’s creamy juices, and stared at it. Then she quickly, like if she took a moment longer to think about it she would have lost her nerve, shoved the pussy-coated digit into her mouth. “Umm, she does taste like cranberries!” she gasped, then she shoved her fingers back into her sister’s cooch.

Rhonda-May leaned against the locker, closing her eyes, and enjoyed her sister’s fingerfuck. Then Rhonda-May reached out, and stuck her hands between her twin’s thighs. Marissa’s ass tightened on my cock, and I could feel Rhonda-May’s fingers wiggling inside her her sister’s cunt. I fucked Marissa harder, my blood boiling as I watched two actual sisters touch each other. Hot damn, selling my soul was worth this!

“You two are a pair of dirty sluts!” I groaned. “I reckon you should kiss.”

“Yes!” Rhonda-May agreed, and mashed her lips against her twin’s.

It was like watching a woman kiss her reflection. Tongues darted inside each other’s lips, both moaning their delight. Marissa shuddered, and came like an engine roaring to life, bucking and clamping her ass hard around my pecker. I was going to cum. Who wouldn’t watching a pair of hot, teenage twins kissing and fingering each other?

So I pulled out of her ass. I wanted to experience both girls, and if I came, it’d be a while before I recovered. There were so many pretty, young things to fuck and my pecker just wasn’t up to the task. Maybe there’s a way in the Witch of Endor’s book to get more stamina.

“Marissa, lie down on the bench,” I ordered. “I want to watch Rhonda-May eat out your cooch, while I fuck her ass!”

Marissa didn’t hesitate to stretch out on the bench. Her sister stared at her spread thighs and the shaved pussy glistening between them. She licked her lips, then knelt on the bench, her ass sticking up in the air, and buried her face in her sister’s snatch.

“You taste like cranberries, too!” Rhonda-May giggled.

“Don’t stop lickin’ me!” her sister moaned. “Ohmygod! That felt hella amazin’!”

I spread Rhonda-May’s asscheeks, her asshole brown and wrinkled, and cornholed the girl. She gasped into her sister’s cooch, her ass bearing down hard on my pecker. I fucked her hard, and she came as quick as a firecracker, already primed by her sister’s fingering.

“Lick me!” purred Marissa. “Keep licking me! I love it! Oh, why did we never do this before? Seventeen years sharin’ a room… Think of all the fun we coulda had!”

“Well, we got the rest of our lives to have fun!” Rhonda-May giggled.

“Umm, so much fun!” Marissa pinched her stiff nipples. “Oh, fuck! I’m gonna cum! This is hella wicked!”

“Cum for me, sister!” Rhonda-May purred as she slipped two fingers inside her sister’s cooch. “Cum on my tongue!”

Marissa’s back arched; she screamed and sprayed her twin’s face with juices right as the mousey girl walked back in. Rhonda-May tensed as she heard the footsteps. I didn’t care. I just kept fucking her tight cornhole.

“Rhonda-May, Coach Breeze said to take Marissa to the nurse if she ain’t…” her voice trailed off as she saw Marissa cumming on her twin sister’s lips. The new girl turned beet red, then fled the locker room.

“Oh, shit!” gasped Rhonda-May. “She saw us! Holy shit!” Her ass spasmed on my pecker, as the little slut came a second time.

Her ass milked me, my balls tightening. I was ready to cum. I buried myself deep in the girl’s cornhole, and pumped my cum into her. I pulled out, and sat down on the bench, breathing heavily. The two girls bolted up, sweat plastering their bodies, faces full of fear.

“Oh, no! She’s getting the Coach!”

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!” Marissa cursed over and over like a record skipping, about to hyperventilate.

“Relax, sweetnesses,” I told them, rubbing their faces. “Here’s what you do.”

When Coach Windbag – the school’s nickname for the blowhard – stormed in, his face red as a baboon’s ass, he found the twins cuddled together, looking as sexy as fucking possible. The coach’s eyes widened, and a bulge formed in his gym shorts.

“What in tarnation are you two doin’!” he demanded. “What a pair of brazen, depraved hussies!”

“We just wanted to show you how much we appreciate you, coach,” purred Rhonda-May as she fondled Marissa’s pert tits.

“Come here, and let us shower you in gratitude for being such a great teacher.” Marissa spread her sister’s legs, and fingered her shaved cunt.

No man could resist two twin teens fondling each other. The coach stumbled forward, eyes drinking in the sight. The two girls did exactly what I told them to, and pulled his shorts down and shared his cock, licking it like a pair of cats at a saucer of milk.

It was like watching my own porno. One of them fake school ones. Only there was nothing fake about this. The twins sucked and licked, sharing his cock between them, while the coach closed his eyes and gripped their auburn hair. Their tongues and lips would meet, and the twin sisters would kiss each other around his cock.

That was too much for the coach, and he erupted across both of their faces. They looked so fucking trashy as jizz dripped off their freckled faces. Without prompting, Rhonda-May licked a line of spunk up her sister’s chin, then shared a sloppy, cum-filled kiss with her twin.

It got the two girls out of trouble, and my pecker ready for the fourth period girls.

The first girl to saunter in for fourth period was a cute, skinny, Mexican girl, her dark hair falling in loose curls about her bronze shoulders, and her ass writhing like a pair of cats fighting in a sack beneath her tight jeans. She unbuttoned those tight jeans, shimmied them slowly down her thighs, waving a plump ass clad by a skimpy, bikini-cut pair of panties in my face.

“¡Madre di dios!” she gasped as I pushed her across the bench, and yanked those panties down her bronze ass. “What’s goin’ on?”

“Just the Ghost, sweetness,” I purred, giving her ass a squeeze. “Just gonna fuck that purtee cooch of yours.”

Her cooch was pretty and tight, brown lips hiding pink flesh like a flower closed for the night. A light fuzz of black hair adorned her cunt, making my pecker ache more for her innocence. I spread her open, admiring the folds of her cunt, juices beading as her cooch got all hot and bothered beneath my touch. Her nectar began dripping out, leaking down her thighs; she was as wet as a flower after an afternoon shower.

“Ooh, Zena, you are in for a treat,” Kelly, one of the cheerleaders I fucked on a regular basis, cooed.

I rubbed the tip of my pecker across the lips of her cooch.

“Wait, no, not in my clam!” Zena protested. “If you have to fuck me, use my butt! Please! I’m a good Catholic girl! It’s not sex if it’s up the ass!”

“Or cheating?” Kelly asked, curious. “I heard you let Bobby Yates fuck your ass!”

“Right,” Zena nodded. “Because anal ain’t sex, just like a blowjob or a handie. Only my boyfriend can have my clam. Please, Mr. Ghost?”

“Well, I reckon you did ask all nice and such,” I told her, then shoved my pecker up her cooch anyways, savoring the tight velvet of her clam. “But your cooch looked so purtee, like a redhead at prom, and I just couldn’t resist, sweetness!”

“¡Cabrón!” she yelled as I pistoned her clam, wriggling her hips, which caused her bronze ass to jiggle. “Oh, fuck! Umm, harder! Your cock is devouring my clam!”

“Is it cheating if it’s a Ghost?” Kelly asked.

“I hope not,” Zena moaned. “Because his rope is churnin’ up a furnace inside me!”

Kelly’s breasts popped out of her bra as she kept changing into her gym clothes. They were perky and round, and oh-so-pale against the locks of her flaming hair. I reached out, fingering her hard nipple; Kelly smiled, slapping my hand away. “You just concentrate on Zena,” she admonished. “Maybe you’ll get to play with me durin’ cheerleadin’ practice this afternoon.”

“Lookin’ forward to it, sweetness.”

“Oh, fuck! I wish my boyfriend felt this great!” Zena purred. “I’m gonna cum!” She moaned, her delightful clam sucking on my cock as her climax rocked her. “Christ, I’ve never cum when Julio fucks me!”

“You should dump him,” Kelly said. “Or make him go down on you!”

“Ooh, that’d be nice,” Zena smiled.

“Or I could go down on you,” Kelly offered.

Zena looked startled at Kelly. “You’re gay?”

Kelly giggled. “No, I’m straight. But every girl on the squad’s tasted pussy. Even Ursula.” A conspiratorial smile formed on her lips and she bent down. “In fact, straitlaced Ursula’s taken quite a likin’ to Marybeth’s snatch.”

“Oh, God,” Zena moaned. “Maybe you could…y’know.”

“You bet,” Kelly answered, pulling her gym shorts up her legs. “Better hurry up or Zena’s goin’ to get yelled at by Coach Windbag.”

“I reckon if you give Zena a nice kiss, that’d speed me up, sweetness.”

Kelly rolled her beautiful, blue eyes. “You are such a perv, ghost.” Then she bent over and planted a kiss on Zena’s startled face, the girl’s cooch tightening nicely on my pecker. Kelly’s tongue wiggled pink into Zena’s lips, moaning like a little trollop. It was too much for my balls, and I exploded inside the Mexican girl, pasting her taco with my salsa.

“I guess that did the trick,” Kelly smiled, and sauntered out.

Poor Zena still had to run laps, but she had a smile on her face the whole time. I sat on the old bleachers, careful not to get any splinters, and watched her run. Her perky breasts bounced beneath her shirt; she didn’t have time to put on her sport’s bra, and her regular bra just let her tits flop about. I leaned back on the bleacher, closed my eyes, deciding to take a nap. Soon cheerleading practice would start, and I needed my strength to please one of those nubile girls beneath the bleachers.

I definitely needed to go the library tomorrow. I wanted more stamina.

To be continued…

Click here for Chapter 7.

The Devil’s Pact, Ghost of Paris Chapter 3: The Lionesses

 

 

The Devil’s Pact

The Ghost of Paris Chapter Three: The Lionesses

by mypenname3000

edited by Master Ken

© Copyright 2014


Story Codes: Male/Teen female, Male/Teen females, Teen female/Teen female, Mind Control, Magic, Voyeurism, Male Masturbation, Exhibitionism, Oral Sex, School, First

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 2.



Monday, September 2nd, 2013 – Paris, Texas

Selling my soul was the single greatest decision of my life!

Being invisible was the greatest freedom in the world. And molesting the girls that I used to spy on was the marshmallow in the moon pie. I spent my Sunday the same way I spent my Saturday, cruising the Paris Commons and porking a few young things. I followed one home and spent the night in her bed; her parents had no idea just how much of a filthy whore their daughter was. Her name was Heather and I definitely had to revisit her bed.

I loved peeping on girls. I’ve been to prison twice for my hobby—once for drilling a hole into the girls’ locker room at Boone High and the other time for taking upskirt pics of girls at the mall. My absolutely favorite girls to peep on were the Lionesses, the Varsity Cheer Squad for Boone High School. Since the school’s mascot was a roaring lion, the cheerleaders started calling themselves the Lionesses. Since I got out of prison, I’ve watched them every time they’ve practiced. In the past I’ve been forced to keep my distance, but no longer.

I waited right on the sun-beaten, wooden bleachers for the girls. It was a warm day, and my pecker was rock-hard just thinking about those beautiful teens. They were all pretty, in their black-and-gold uniforms that showed off their gorgeous legs, and when they raised up their arms, their tops would ride up and show off a few inches of flat stomach.

While all of them were beautiful, I had five favorites: fiery redheaded Kelly, with her freckled cheeks; big-titted Ursula and her sky-blue eyes; shy and demure Brandy, doll-faced and tawny-haired; ebony-skinned Latonya, her hair gathered into a dozen or so short, beaded braids that clacked together whenever she moved her head; and tall, curvy Marybeth, with her pouty lips and smoky gazes.

The girls started arriving in ones and twos, giggling as they walked up, their pleated skirts swaying about their fine, toned thighs. There were about a dozen girls in the squad. Latonya’s the captain and she used her whistle to get their attention. I started walking amongst the girls as they started their stretching, admiring their bodies up close, trying to decide which girl deserved my attention first. They were between coaches, so Latonya was in charge of running things, and the Black girl shouted orders like a drill instructor.

I moved behind Ursula as she bent over, her skirt riding up and exposing her black spankies, the bloomer shorts cheerleaders wore over their underwear. The spandex of her spankies was tight across her ass and I could see the lines of her panties. I reached out and stroked the panty line on her right asscheek.

Ursula jumped and spun around, crimson spotting her cheeks. “What the heck, Marybeth?”

Marybeth – who was behind her and looking at Ursula through my invisible body – frowned. “What?”

“You touched my bum!”

Marybeth put her hands on her hips, shaking her head, her short, black hair, swaying about her shoulders. “I did no such thang!”

Latonya blew her whistle. “C’mon ladies, back to y’alls stretches. And Marybeth, don’t be such a dyke!”

“But I didn’t touch her ass!” Then she gave Ursula a considering stare. “Although, it is one mighty fine ass.”

Ursula glared daggers at Marybeth and moved away from the girl.

Chuckling, I goosed Marybeth’s pert ass and she shrieked, rubbing her butt. Latonya blew the whistle a second time and stalked over to Marybeth. “What’s gotten into you?”

“Someone pinched my ass,” the doll-faced girl complained.

Latonya rolled her eyes. “No-one pinched your assssaahhh!” I gave Latonya’s black booty a good squeeze and the captain whirled around and glared at Ursula. “Why did you grab me?”

“Excuse me?” Ursula asked, blinking in confusion.

Feeling bolder, I grabbed the bottom of Latonya’s top and pulled it up over her head. The girls all watched wide-eyed as I as twirled her top through the air, before I threw it to the ground. Latonya stared in disbelief at her blouse, her full breasts covered by a white sports bra that contrasted nicely with her ebony skin.

“It’s the Ghost!” Brandy gasped. “Mindy was tellin’ me ’bout it.” I smiled, remembering the fun I had with Mindy in the Banana Republic changing room on Saturday.

“Ghost?” Marybeth asked.

“Yeah, he haunts the Commons and molests any purtee girl he finds,” Kelly added. I grinned, pleased to hear about my growing legend.

Latonya still stared at her top in disbelief, so I unclasped her sports bra and ripped it off, freeing her chocolate breasts and bright pink nipples. Latonya gasped, and clasped her hand over her bare tits. She looked around wildly. In fact, all the girls were spinning about, holding on to their tops for dear life, and trying to spot me. God, this was such fun.

“We should skedaddle,” Brandy said fearfully.

The tawny-haired girl was backing slowly away from the group as Latonya shrieked. My lips engulfed her nipple, sucking hard, as I lifted the cheerleader off the ground and spun her about. All the Lionesses were backing away as their cheer captain was whirled about by the ‘ghost.’ Well, all of them except Marybeth. She was the boldest, and leapt at me. The girl’s sudden weight on my back threw me off-balance and the three of us went sprawling to the ground in a tangled mess of limbs as the girls struggled to get away from me.

My pecker was aching hard and I wanted to stick it into one of the objects of my voyeuristic affections. Latonya rolled away, so I grasped Marybeth’s spankies and panties, and yanked them down her ass. She didn’t resist; part of my Pact was for the women I molested to enjoy it. I pulled her up on her hands and knees, flipped up her pleated skirt to expose her curvy ass and shaved cooch, and I could just make out the triangle of black hair on her pubic bone. I knelt behind her and rubbed my pecker on her moistening cunt, then shoved into her velvety warm depths.

“Oh my Lord, the ghost is fuckin’ me!” Marybeth yowled like a startled alley cat.

The girls fled, racing across the field, leaving Marybeth to my mercies. Latonya didn’t even bother putting her top or bra back on, just ran with her breasts bouncing about for the entire world to see. I grabbed Marybeth’s curvy hips and plowed into her hard and fast.

“I love tight, teenage cooch!” I moaned.

“Umm, your cock feels kinda nice, Mr. Ghost!”

“Are all you cheerleaders such sluts, sweetness?”

Marybeth laughed, “Not all of us. But the football team ain’t got no complaints from me!”

Her cheermates were almost back to the school, and it wouldn’t be long before they were racing back with help. I redoubled my efforts, driving my pecker frantically into her slippery cooch. The little slut started fucking me back, shaking those fine hips, and moaning like a bitch in heat. She kept looking over her head at me, her green eyes roaming about, trying to see something.

“You gotta great cooch, slut!”

“Thanks, you gotta great dick, Ghost!”

The girls were coming back with a big man. The football coach, I think, and they were all running across the field towards us. Fuck, I was almost there! I had to finish fast; luckily I hadn’t molested anyone else today, and I was ready to pop off in a cheerleader’s cunt. Just a few more strokes and I would be shooting inside her. I plunged in and out; the angry football coach was fifty-yards away. Into her tight cooch—only forty-yards away; out of her cunt—thirty-yards away and closing fast.

“Fuckin’ A!” I shouted as I buried into her sweet cunt, and came as the coach was a mere twenty-yards away. I pulled out, my pecker still cumming, spraying her back and ass with invisible spunk as he reached Marybeth, his face ruddy with exertion. She looked back at me, frustration twisting her pretty features.

“You okay?” he growled at my little fuckmate, looking around. “Where’d that pervert go!”

“It was a ghost, Mr. Breeze,” Marybeth answered, pulling up her spankies and panties.

“A ghost?” Mr. Breeze roared, looking at the girls. Latonya followed at a trot, her hands clasped over her breasts. “Is this some sorta joke?” he demanded of her.

“No,” the girls all said, but he didn’t believe them and cheer practice was over as he marched the girls back into the school, unleashing an explosive tirade the entire way.

As they started walking dejectedly after the coach, I heard Marybeth whisper to Ursula, “Shame Mr. Breeze showed up, I was about to have me a nice cum.”

“You’re such a slut,” Ursula said with disgust. She opened her mouth, prepared to say more, but closed her trap as Mr. Breeze glared at her.

There was no cheer practice on Tuesday, to my disappointment. The girls must be in a heap of trouble, and I almost regretted fucking Marybeth yesterday. Almost. I was back on Wednesday, praying like hell that the girls would be allowed to practice. I mounted the bleachers to wait and plopped my naked ass down on the old wood. Pain flared and I jumped back up; something had stuck in my butt-cheek. I felt around, felt a rough splint of wood sticking dead center in the meat of my right cheek. Gritting my teeth, I grabbed splinter and spent a minute trying to dig it out of my ass.

“Fuckin’ piece of shit,” I muttered, flicking the splinter away. This time I carefully checked where I was about to plop my ass.

When the girls arrived, they were all huddled together, most looking a little nervous, and they all glanced around cautiously before they started their stretches. I started walking amongst them, admiring their breasts filling out their tops, or the way their pleated skirts fell on their asses. I grasped my hardening pecker and started jerking off madly. I was so excited I popped off early, spraying Kelly’s ass with my invisible cum.

“What in tarnation,” she muttered, rubbing her ass. “It feels like my butt’s all wet.”

“There ain’t nothin’ there,” Brandy told her as Kelly rubbed her ass. Kelly sniffed her fingers then flushed and grimaced, bending down to wipe her hands off on the grass. The little slut sure knew what she smelled.

I watched them go through a few of their cheer routines while I waited for my pecker to recharge. I found myself fixated on the redheaded Kelly. How did that slut know what cum smelled like? She must have tasted it before, maybe giving her boyfriend head in his pick-up truck? Or maybe she has been giving favors to the football team. I pictured her kneeling at my feet, my hand gripping her fiery-red hair as I fucked her mouth.

“Go Lions!” the girls cheered and clapped as they finished a routine, jumping up and down and shaking their pompoms—the gold-and-black ones in their hands and the perky ones beneath their tops.

My pecker felt rested, so I strode out into the girls, to Kelly. She shrieked when I stroked her face, brushing an errant, red curl off her cheek. “Oh no, he’s back!”

“Really?” Marybeth asked. Was that eagerness I heard in the slutty cheerleader’s voice?

“Just try and ignore him,” Latonya sighed. “We’re lucky we convinced Princ’pal Schneider to let us keep practicin’.”

Kelly flushed and the girls started the next routine. I watched Kelly as she clapped her hands and shouted the chant in time with the other girls. She turned to move and ran right into me, and grunted in surprise as she stumbled back. I quickly reached out and grabbed her shoulders, pushing her down to her knees, my cock slapping her face.

“Oh, no!” Kelly protested, flinching from my pecker. “The ghost is…”

I shoved my pecker into her open mouth. She was warm and wet, and I started fucking her pie hole. She sat unmoving for a minute while all the cheerleaders stared at us. Kelly’s hands pushed at my body, trying to force herself away for a moment, and then she relaxed and the little slut started sucking my pecker. It was heavenly.

“Are you suckin’ ghost cock?” Marybeth asked, her voice full of heat.

Kelly’s answer was muffled by my pecker. I grabbed a fistful of her hair and started thrusting wildly. All of the cheerleaders’ eyes on us spurred me on, and I slammed my pecker harder into her sweet mouth. She sucked as my cock rubbed against the roof of her mouth and brushed the back of her throat. Her tongue slid along the shaft, curling around and brushing the head, stroking the fire burning in my balls.

“You’re so lucky,” Marybeth complained. “Wish it was me. God, he fucked me so hard last time, and I was so close to cummin’ when Coach Windbag spoiled all my fun.”

“Gosh, you really are a slut!” Ursula snapped at Marybeth.

“Relax, Ursula,” Marybeth replied. “You seem tense, I bet you need a nice cum. That’d mellow you right out, and I’d be more than happy to give you a helpin’ hand. Y’know, give your clam a little fingerin’.”

“Fuckin’ dyke,” muttered Ursula.

Marybeth kissed at Ursula and purred, “Just for you, sugar.”

“Knock it off!” Latonya snapped. “Let’s keep practicin’. Umm, Kelly, you can continue when you…er…finish.”

Kelly’s tongue was roaming my cock as she blew me, and I slowed my fucking and let her do the work as I watched the cheerleaders go through their routines. Their slim legs flashed as they jumped and spun and kicked. Their breasts, particularly Ursula’s large tits, bounced around beneath their tops like two cats fighting in a sack. Kelly’s hand started rubbing on the underside of my pecker while her other slid up my legs and found my balls, massaging them softly. The slut must be eager for my cum.

I focused on Ursula’s big tits as they bounced up and down, over and over. It was almost hypnotic, watching her sweater puppies play beneath her top, and my balls tightened. I was close to cumming in Kelly’s sucking mouth. The little slut sure knew how to give head, clearly eager for my spunk, so, with a ghostly moan, I obliged her and spilled my cum into her pie hole. She coughed when I pulled out of her mouth, licking her lips, searching for any invisible cum that may have leaked out.

“How was it?” Marybeth asked as she gave Kelly an applause.

She glanced up at Marybeth and flushed. “Salty.”

Sadly, their practice ended before my pecker recovered. Thursday afternoon, I was back, eager to play with my Lionesses. Marybeth seemed to be the most adventuresome, and I had a perverted thought floating in my mind. As they did their stretches, I sidled up to Marybeth, rubbing her ass. The girl smiled over her shoulder at me and pressed her butt back into my hand.

I whispered, “How’d you like Ursula munchin’ on your rug?”

She glanced back at me, an excited twinkle in her green eyes. “I ain’t got no rug, Mr. Ghost.”

I smiled, remembering how beautiful her shaved cooch was. “Well, I reckon she could polish them hardwood floors you got, sweetness.”

“Ohh, I’d love to have Miss Prissy’s tongue up my snatch.”

I whispered my plan to her.

As the girls started their routine, I walked behind Ursula and reached around to squeeze her huge tits while I pressed my hard cock into her firm ass. She stiffened in my arms, and screeched, “Oh, no! Please not me, Mr. Ghost. I’m born-again. It ain’t right for me to do this.”

“ ‘Fraid it’s you, sweetness,” I whispered into her ear. “You’re just too purtee to resist. Particu’rly with them mighty fine melons.” I gave her tits a squeeze. “They feel mighty ripe, why don’t we check, sweetness?” I grabbed the hem of her top and pulled it up over her head. Her large tits were contained in a black, tank top bra, and I took that off, too; her melons popped out, and they were heavy and ripe, topped with fat, brown nipples and aerolas the size of silver dollars. A small, gold cross on a thin chain dangled between her melons, almost vanishing in the valley of her huge mountains. I hefted a tit, gave her meaty melon a squeeze, and bent down to suck a nipple into my mouth. “Umm, they are ripe and tasty.”

While I sucked her titties, I slid my hand down her pleated skirt to find her thigh, caressed her silky skin, and slid up beneath her skirt, finding the elastic band of her spankies. She stiffened, crying out, “Please mister, I’m a virgin!”

“Well, I reckon you ’bout to lose that there cherry, sweetness.” I shoved my hand roughly down her spankies and panties, feeling her soft cooch. “Don’t you worry now, my pecker’s gonna make you howl like a coyote at the moon!”

I pulled down hard on her spankies and panties, and now all she wore was her pleated skirt, her socks, and shoes. I lifted up her skirt to see a blonde bush; guess she was a natural. I reached a finger down and slid it through her cornsilk-soft down and found her growing wetness. She shuddered as my finger ran through her slit and rubbed on her little clit.

“No, no, no,” she whispered as I pushed down on her shoulders. She didn’t resist, though, stretching out on her back for me on the bright green grass.

Latonya blew her whistle. “C’mon girls, keep practicin’.”

No one listened. They all watched as I pushed up Ursula’s skirt, spread her legs, and prepared to take her virginity. Ursula was almost hyperventilating, and she jumped as she felt my pecker press against the lips of her virgin cooch. I rubbed the head of my pecker up and down on her lips, enjoying the feel on my sensitive tip. Then I pushed in slowly, delighting in the tight feel of her cunt as it gave way before my pressing pecker. Deeper and deeper I drove, until I buried every inch of it into her juicy cooch.

“Where’s your cherry, slut?” I demanded in disappointment. I always wanted to pop a girl’s cherry. “Thought you said you was a virgin?”

“I broke it years ago. Doin’ cheerleadin’.”

Her cooch gave a little squeeze on my cock, and her hips twitched as I plowed into her. I leaned down, felt her pillowy tits on my chest, and whispered, “You like my pecker in you, don’t ya slut?”

A small whisper escaped her lips.

“What was that, slut?” I asked, really nailing my pecker into her tight cooch, enjoying every velvety inch of her cunt.

“Yes.” Her eyes were full of shame.

“Louder!” I hissed. “Let everyone know how much a slut you is.”

“I love it!” she yelled. “I love his penis inside my vagina!”

“Your cunt,” I corrected.

“Yes, yes, my cunt! God forgive me, but fuck my cunt! Oh my gosh, this feels so, so…fuck!”

Her hips started moving beneath me as I fucked her velvet cunt; she had the tightest hole I’d ever been in. Luckily, she was well greased and I pumped in and out of her smoothly like a piston in a cylinder, my every thrust igniting her spark plug. Around us, the cheerleaders were all watching us fuck, their young faces flushed with desire, especially Marybeth’s. I rose up, hooking her thighs with my legs, and started pounding her cooch, Ursula’s big tits flopping about as her body shook with the force of my fucking.

Latonya blew her whistle. “C’mon girls, keep practicin’. Just ignore them.”

“How can I ignore those purtee tits,” purred Marybeth. “I reckon she’s as stacked as Dolly Parton!”

“Don’t you be lookin’, dyke,” Ursula gasped, covering her breasts with her hands

I stopped fucking her, my pecker buried in her cooch, and pulled her hands away. “None of that, sweetness. I want to see them big melons of yours.”

“Sorry! Just keep fuckin’ in me!” she begged, wiggling her hips in frustration. “I’m so close!”

“Now, what you said to Marybeth was purtee mean,” I told her. “She was just payin’ you a comp’ment. I reckon you owe her an apol’gy.”

“I’m sorry for callin’ you a dyke,” Ursula panted.

“I’m not sure that’s good enough,” Marybeth said with indignation. “You’re always callin’ me names.”

“Well, Ursula, how ’bout you let Marybeth sit on your face, and you eat her cunt out good and proper,” I suggested. “Then I’ll keep fuckin’ you.”

Ursula shook her head violently.

“Okay, I’ll just go fuck Marybeth.” I started to pull out and Ursula wrapped her legs around my hips and pulled me back in. “You gonna munch on her muff? That’s why I’m here, sweetness. You girls gotta learn to like each other.”

Ursula bit her lip, then softly said, “Okay.”

Marybeth grinned and pulled off her black spankies and panties revealing that shaved cooch dripping with juices. She straddled Ursula’s face, and a look of fear passed over Ursula’s face as she stared up at Marybeth’s cooch, then Marybeth lowered her cunt down. I couldn’t see what was happening with her pleated skirts in the way, but Marybeth was moaning like a banshee.

“Hold your skirt up,” I ordered.

I almost came seeing Ursula’s tongue licking through Marybeth’s shaved cunt. Her tongue was stiff, hesitant, but as I started fucking the former virgin, she seemed to get more and more eager. Marybeth had a shit-eating grin plastered on her lips as she rubbed her cooch across Ursula’s face. Latonya kept blowing her whistle, trying to get the cheerleaders to practice, but none of the girls were listening, too caught up in watching our three-way.

It was Kelly who started the cheer, and the other girls quickly took it up:

“Get her all fired up!
Get down, to town,
And go all the way!
Get her all fired up!
So lick and suck
And blow Marybeth away!”

I fucked Ursula faster, spurred on by the cheerleaders. Everywhere I looked, beautiful, teenage girls jumped and pranced. Some flipped up their skirts and shook their asses in my face, others pulled up their tops and flashed some Grade A teenage titties. It was like I had died and gone to perverts’ heaven!

“Lick my pussy!” moaned Marybeth. “Ohh, Ursula, I love your tongue. Why didn’t we do this ages ago? I can tell that you’re a natural oyster shucker!”

I wasn’t going to last much longer in Ursula’s tight clam; my balls were boiling over. I gave one of her big tits a squeeze, rolling her fat nipple between my fingers, and I groaned loudly as her tight cunt squeezed my cock. I needed to cum, badly, and I pistoned my pecker into her hole as fast as I could, that explosive release just a few thrusts away.

“Lionesses are hot.
Lionesses are wet.
Lionesses will explode
And cum all over you!”

Their newest cheer did it! I spilt ropey cum inside Ursula’s virgin cunt; I bet she wasn’t even on the pill. How big would her tits grow if she was pregnant? She would be sexy as hell with her pregnant belly, and I reckon her breasts would become absolutely ginormous. Breathing heavily, I pulled out of her cunt and sat on the grass, picturing how sexy the squad would be if they all were pregnant, prancing about with their round bellies. Fuck, I wanted to knock them all up.

This was definitely worth selling my soul for!

“Umm, I think the ghost just finished,” Marybeth purred. “Let me clean you up.” She bent down and lapped at Ursula’s cunt. “Um, you taste great Ursula. Now I’ve tasted the entire squad’s pussies!”

“Go Marybeth!” Brandy shouted, jumping up and waving her pompoms.

“Wait, she’s gone down on more than just me?” Latonya gasped. Most of the girls blushed guiltily.

“Umm, and you all taste wonderful,” Marybeth giggled.

“You are such a slut,” Kelly teased.

“The biggest!” Proudly, Marybeth bent down and started licking at Ursula’s cunt while Kelly started up another chant, punctuated with claps.

“Hey, Hey
Hey hey are you ready?”
*clap, clap*
“Are you ready?”
*clap,clap*
“To cum!”
*clap*
“Go Ursula!”
*clap*
“Go Marybeth!”
*clap*
“Lionesses go all the way!”

Ursula and Marybeth seemed to take their teammates’ cheer to heart as both girls writhed and moaned into each other’s cunts, both eagerly licking up the other’s juices as they came. There was something so beautiful about two lesbo teens making each other cum. Marybeth flopped onto her back, breathing heavily, while Ursula licked her lips, a surprisingly happy smile on her face.

“Who’s the dyke now?” Marybeth asked.

“We are,” Ursula giggled, her jugs jiggling as she sat up.

“All right, back to practice,” Latonya ordered bossily. “We need to be ready for Homecoming on Saturday!”

Of course I was back on Friday; I wasn’t about to miss out on the last practice of the week. The girls were all full of giggling excitement when they walked onto the field, Latonya at the lead. She looked fierce, like a Zulu warrior marching into battle. As she swung her head around, looking for me, her beaded braids clicked and clacked a staccato beat; her war drums leading her into battle.

“Are you here, Mr. Ghost?” she asked, hands on her hips.

“Course I am,” I answered. “Wouldn’t miss you fine, young thangs shakin’ your asses.”

“You are disruptin’ our practices,” Latonya declared, her ebony face stern. “So we decided that one girl would entertain you behind the bleachers, allowin’ the rest of us to practice unmolested.”

I mulled that over. “Which girl?”

“We drew straws,” Latonya said, then her ebony skin somehow flushed darker than I thought possible, and her posture became less firm, less certain. “Today it will be me. So, do we have a deal?”

I didn’t answer her, just grabbed the Black girl and threw her over my shoulder while she gave a surprised scream, her beads clattering loudly. Then I pulled off her spankies and panties, stroked her Black booty, gave her wet groove a stroke, then turned and marched to the bleachers with my prize. Behind me the cheerleaders started up another chant:

“Up and down, our girls don’t mess around,
because our cunts are the best
put our pussies to the test!
On your cock, our girls slide up and down!
Go, Lionesses!”

Behind the bleacher, Latonya’s ebony breasts, topped with pink nipples, wildly bounced as she rode my pecker up and down. I wasn’t sure if the Lionesses’ cunts were the best. I hadn’t tried them all.

Yet!

To be continued…

Click here for Chapter 4.

The Devil’s Pact, Ghost of Paris Chapter 2: Tartan Skirt

 

 

The Devil’s Pact

The Ghost of Paris Chapter Two: Tartan Skirt

by mypenname3000

edited by Master Ken

© Copyright 2014


Story Codes: Male/Teen female, Mind Control, Magic, Voyeurism, Exhibitionism, Toy, Female Masturbation, Anal, Humilation

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 1.



Saturday, August 31st, 2013 – Paris, Texas

At dawn this morning, I sold my soul to Lucifer, the Devil himself, for the power to turn myself invisible. I loved peeping on women, and being invisible was the ultimate way to peep. Just an hour ago, I watched a girl change in the Banana Republic dressing room. Her name was Mindy, and I ended up fucking her hard. She thought I was a ghost who couldn’t pass-on to heaven unless my blue balls were fixed.

To recharge my batteries after my romp with Mindy, I lay on the cold floor of the Paris Commons, beneath the stairs, so I could stare up some women’s skirts. It was my favorite spot in the whole mall, and now I didn’t need to be afraid of getting caught. My pecker was stirring and I was looking for the next girl to molest while enjoying the sights.

I loved the thrill of looking up a lady’s skirt and seeing her unmentionables. I loved them all: plain, white panties; cute panties with cartoon characters, or hearts, or kisses; sexy panties made of gauzy fabric, lace, and bright bows. Boy-shorts, bikini, high-cut, tangas, thongs, g-strings, and even the plain-old classic-cut. I loved them all!

Color flashed out of the corner of my eyes and I looked at the base of the stairs and saw a pair of tan knees that peaked out beneath a green-and-red tartan skirt. I smiled, watching the girl mount the stairs. I loved the anticipation, wondering what sort of panties she would have on. She was young, a sophomore or a junior in high school. I was betting on cute panties with some adorable animal printed on them.

There was a flash of hot pink beneath her legs and my pecker stiffened. Well, Scotty, you were wrong. I had one perfect moment where I could see straight up between her legs at the filmy gusset of her panties. The material – molded to the lips of her cooch – was transparent enough that I could make out her shaved slit and a landing-strip of dark pubic hair.

I had found my next playmate.

I rolled out from beneath the stairs. I had to dodge a bevy of shoppers. No-one could see me, and that made it difficult to move through a crowded mall. Luckily I was a skinny guy, and slipped through. I raced up the stairs, taking them two at a time. Reaching the landing, I searched for Miss Tartan-Skirt. I looked to my left, straining to see the red-and-green of her skirt.

Nothing.

My heart was hammering with frustrated excitement. I had to find her. I had to see those panties up close. I had to see what they were covering. I whipped my head about desperately. Where was she? I looked to my right, nimbly dodging around an old man in a scooter that almost barreled into me. Did I lose her?

Disappointment soured my stomach. I lost her.

As I turned to walk back down the stairs, I caught a a flash of red-and-green skirt disappearing into a Lady Footlocker. I grinned and hugged the wall as I walked down the second-floor balcony to the store. I reached the window and peered in. There she was, looking at tennis shoes. She wore a white blouse, with very short, ruffled sleeves. Her hair was long, black, and plaited and her face was round and innocent, with huge, dark, doe-eyes.

She found a pair of shoes and sat down on a bench. I quickly hurried over, kneeling down on the floor. Her legs were spread wide and I had to lower my face almost all the way to the floor, but I was able to see right up her skirt at the treasure hidden between her legs. Oh, fuck, that is a lovely pair of panties. A fringe of pink lace surrounded the leg-holes. In fact, the panties were made entirely of pink lace that left her pussy on display.

I moved closer, my head almost between her legs as she tried on her shoes. Then she stood up and I scurried back, bumping into the display rack in my haste to get out of her way. The rack shook and Miss Tartan-Skirt jumped in surprise and frowned at the rack. She shrugged and walked away from me in her shoes; my eyes were glued to the way her ass swayed beneath her skirt.

I grasped my pecker; stroked it slowly as I watched her tight ass. She turned, and I noticed just how well her breasts filled out her top. I could just make out the shadow of her bra beneath the blouse and I wondered what it looked like. Hot pink and lacy, like the panties, with her hard nipples and pink aerola visible? Or something else.

Miss Tartan-Skirt shook her head, kicked off the shoes, and returned them to the box. Then she started to browse the shelves. I moved closer, my pecker inches from her pert ass. I reached out and stroked the nape of her neck.

“Holy jeez!” she yelped and, laughing silently, I stepped back. She stared in confusion right at me, her doe-eyes wide. I stroked my pecker harder. Shaking her head, she turned back to browsing for shoes.

Then I reached out and caressed her arm. Her looks of confusion and consternation were priceless. Every few minutes, just when she seemed to relax, I would strike. A light touch on the back of her hand, a caressing swipe at her calf, a gentle stroke of her cheek. She looked around carefully before she started to try on the third pair of shoes. As she bent down to untie her own shoes, I reached around her body and gave her firm tit a good squeeze.

“Everything ah’ite, miss?” drawled the clerk when Miss Tartan-Skirt just about jumped out of her skin.

“Yes,” Miss Tartan-Skirt squeaked in fear. “I’ll take this pair!”

I followed the girl as she scurried out of the store, the bag with her new shoes tightly clutched in her hands. She was so unnerved she didn’t even bother to try them on. I followed her all the way out of the mall. She was almost running by the time we reached the parking lot. As she fumbled in her purse for her car keys, I goosed her ass and enjoyed her plump feel.

“What in tarnation!” she gasped and dropped her purse and Lady Footlocker bag.

Her doe-eyes were wild as she stared around. There was no-one anywhere near us. Her hands shook as she bent down to retrieve her purse and bag. She fished out her keys and almost dropped them again. She took a deep breath, muttering about being tired, and began to calm herself down.

She unlocked her Toyota Corolla, popped her trunk, and put her shopping bag in. I opened the rear, driver-side door and slid in. She gaped in surprise. “Need more sleep,” she muttered as she slammed the door closed. She got into the front seat, and kept glancing back, frowning.

I loved being invisible. It was the most freeing thing in the world.

As she drove, I carefully grabbed a loose lock of black hair and leaned in and smelled her apricot shampoo. To my horror, she started texting as she drove. Glancing up from her phone every few seconds to make sure the road ahead was clear. Whenever she sent a text she would almost instantly get a response. Twice we drifted into oncoming traffic without her even noticing. I wished to God I could put on the seatbelt, but it would be a little obvious floating in the air around my invisible body.

Finally she pulled into a driveway of a one-story rambler the color of a cloudy sky. She got out of the car, collected her bag, and texted as she walked. I quietly opened the door, slipped out, and shut it every so softly. She was at her porch, furiously texting away; I stalked up behind her. A vindictive feeling grew inside me. The stupid girl almost got us killed and I wanted to make her pay.

She put her phone into her purse and fished out her keys. As she reached for the lock, I pounced and pushed her up against the door. She screamed and glanced over her shoulder as she struggled in my grasp.

“What in the blue hell is goin’ on!” she shrieked in fear as she looked right through me.

I slipped a hand up her thigh, up to her butt and gave it a squeeze. She started to relax. I had wished that any woman I molested would enjoy it. My fingers found the waistband of her panties, hooking through the elastic band.

“What are you?” She sounded afraid and aroused; her big doe-eyes shone with her mixed emotions.

“A ghost,” I moaned, trying to sound ghostly. “Forever cursed to haunt purtee gals and use them for my relief.”

I was pulling her panties down, my hard pecker pressing against her now naked ass. She jumped, feeling the streak of invisible pre-cum my pecker must have left on her ass. “Relief?”

“I need to cum in a sweet young thang’s cooch or I can’t get to heaven.”

I pulled her hot-pink, lacy panties down until they were bunched around her ankles. I gave her ass another squeeze and pressed up behind her. I could feel her pillowy cheeks pushing against my groin as I guided my pecker to her moist pussy.

“Please don’t,” she begged. “We’re outside. People’ll see us!”

My pecker started to sink into her. “I reckon that’s what makes it so excitin’!”

Miss Tartan-Skirt threw back her head and moaned as my pecker speared into her hot, moist cunt. Like Mindy, she was tight but not a virgin. I grunted, and started working my pecker through her slippery sheath.

“Oh fuck,” she moaned. “This can’t be happening!”

“Sweetness, you just better start acceptin’ it!” I licked her ear. “You got one hot, juicy cooch!”

“I must be going crazy.”

I kept pounding her snatch, enjoying her sweetness as I reached around her and found the small buttons that kept her blouse closed. I tried to fumble with them, but they were too tiny for my fat fingers. Instead, I ripped her blouse open and her cunt tightened on my pecker as she shrieked in surprise. I groped her breasts. Her bra felt lacy, and I fingered the pattern. Her nipples were hard underneath and she gasped every time I brushed one.

My balls started to boil over and I pounded her cooch harder and harder. I heard a few muttered laughs, and looked over my shoulder to see a group of teenage boys filming us with their phones. I wondered just what they were seeing. Her panties were down around her ankles and her skirt bunched up to expose a tan ass with just the faintest lines from her bikini. Her blouse hung open and her head was thrown back. It must look like she’s masturbating on the porch.

I smiled; the teens watching us were voyeurs after my own heart.

So I decided to give them a show. I picked up Miss Tartan-Skirt, spinning her around. “What in the blue hell!” she screamed. Her porch had a railing. I bent her over it, and continued to fuck her fast and hard.

I grabbed her bra, pulling the cups down to expose her tits to the hungry gaze of the teens. “No, no, no! Please don’t do this!”

I groped her naked tits, pinching her hard nipples as I pounded her snatch. She tried to cover her breasts and I pushed her hands away. Mortified, she buried her face in her hands. I watched the boys, their eyes wide with lust and disbelief, phones held up to capture every moment.

“What a ho!” the first yelled, the boldest of the boys. And then they all were shouting.

“You’re a fuckin’ slut!”

“Holy shit, look at her tits!”

“How the fuck is she doin’ that?”

I was playing with her round breasts, squeezing them and lifting them up. “Look at them,” I told Miss Tartan-Skirt. “Enjoy their stares like a good little slut.”

“I’m not a…ohhh…slut!” she moaned.

“You sure as hell are, sweetness. I’m only drawn to girls as easy as a seein’ tits at Mardi Gras.” I reached around, grabbed her arms and pulled them away from her face. “Now sweetness, don’t be shy. Be proud that them boys there like to see your sweet hooters.”

“Oh my word!” she moaned, her cunt tightening about my cock, her hips giving a little wiggle. “I can’t believe I’m gonna cum!”

“You best believe it, sweetness, and cum for them boys!”

She gave a loud, wordless moan and her cunt started convulsing around my pecker. She felt so good as her orgasming snatch massaged my pecker. I slammed one last time into her and flooded her with my invisible cum.

“Thanks, sweetness,” I said as I pulled out of her.

Miss Tartan-Skirt rushed to the door, tripping on her panties. She fell onto her knees; her skirt flipped-up and exposed her tan ass and freshly-fucked cunt. The boys hooted in delight, and snapped photos as she scrambled back to her feet. She grabbed her purse, fumbled for her keys as she hastened to unlock the door. She was so frazzled she left the keys in the lock as she slammed the door. The deadbolt clicked and I heard her lean against the door and sigh in relief.

She walked away from the door and I waited a few minutes, before I pulled the keys out of the doorknob lock and slid them into the deadbolt. The same key worked for both locks, so I slowly twisted the key and tried to not make any noise. I winced as the lock clicked loudly, and waited for Miss Tartan-Skirt to investigate. She didn’t. I pushed the door open and slipped in.

She was sobbing on the couch. She had pulled her panties up, slipped her breasts back into her bra, and closed the ripped blouse as best she could. On her lap was a pillow fringed with tassels that she cried into. I almost felt bad for her, but I remembered just how great her cunt felt. My stomach rumbled, so I walked back to the kitchen to see what I could steal. I heard muffled music began to pound through the house and peaked back into the living room. She was gone, fled to her bedroom and that god-awful boy band music. One Direction, maybe? Or Justin Beiber? It all sounded like crap to me. Give me some Johnny Cash or Elvis. Hell, I’d take some rap over Justin Beiber.

I found a beer in the fridge and made myself a bologna sandwich. I devoured it and made myself a second one and washed it down with a second beer. It was a Bud Light, and I was a Coors man, but beggars cannot be choosers. I started wandering through the house. It wasn’t big; two bedrooms and a bath. There were pictures everywhere, mostly of Miss Tartan-Skirt, but also of a frumpy woman that looked to have been pretty once, before a hard life stole that from her. The mother, I figured, and a single one at that. The only pictures of a man were with Miss Tartan-Skirt as a child. I figured her dad must be dead, why else would her mother keep his pictures up?

I amused myself by rummaging through the master bedroom. Her mom’s bedroom wasn’t as tidy as the rest of the house and dirty clothes lay strewn across the floor. I found a pair of large, used panties and gave them a sniffb then shuddered to think how fat her mom must be. These panties would be a tent on me. I found a black, rubber cock in her panty drawer and a depraved idea entered my mind. It had been over an hour since I fucked Miss Tartan-Skirt on the porch and my pecker felt alive and ready.

“I swear it was a ghost,” Miss Tartan-Skirt pleaded to her laptop as she sat at her desk. She must be skyping. I could see a teen girl’s face on her laptop’s screen rolling her eyes.

Miss Tartan-Skirt’s music was loud enough that she didn’t hear me open her bedroom door. I held her mom’s dildo in one hand as I walked into the room. Her room was tidy. Her bed had a purple comforter and was precisely made, like she was in boot camp. That’s how my pa always liked things. Old bastard seemed to think he was still in the military half the time. On her shelves sat crystal and porcelain figurines: mostly unicorns, but a few pegasi, centaurs, and one crystal dragon. Her closet was open and her clothes hung neatly.

“Whatevs, Ruth,” her friend said dismissively. Miss Tartan-Skirt had a name. And it was rather plain and boring. “Last week you tried to convince me you saw a UFO.”

“But I did,” Ruth protested. “It was hoverin’ over the Eiffel Tower.”

I wondered if a UFO really hovered over that gaudy tourist attraction. Since our town was also called Paris, someone, naturally, built a replica of the Eiffel Tower. And since we were in Texas a huge, red cowboy hat rests atop it. I loved UFO’s and all that paranormal shit. But I hadn’t heard anyone reporting a UFO in Paris, and I would have heard about it. I visit all sorts of ‘alternative’ websites. Hell, that’s where I learned how to summon Lucifer and make my deal to turn invisible.

“You’re such a liar,” her friend dismissed.

I turned off her iPod docked to a set of speakers. Ruth jumped. She had put on a baggy T-shirt and still wore that lovely, red-and-green tartan skirt. Her doe-eyes widened as she saw the rubber cock floating in midair. I waggled it; the pecker flopped about and the color just drained from her face.

“It’s back!” she screeched.

“What is, Ruth?”

“The ghost!”

I could see her friend roll her eyes on the screen. “I’m not fallin’ for another one of your pranks. Later.”

Ruth looked on in horror at the rubber cock. “You got your relief. I thought you moved on?”

“ ‘Fraid not, sweetness. Goin’ to have to try a little bit harder this time, sweetness.” She glanced at the dildo in my hand and blushed. “This was up your mama’s cunt.” I inhaled deeply. “Smells fresh. Bet your ma used it just this mornin’.”

“I…I wouldn’t know.”

I smiled, grabbed her arm, and pulled her up. “I want to see you stick this up your slutty cooch.”

“That’s disgusting!” Her voice was full of indignation, so I pushed the dildo into her face, laughing as she flinched and tried to slap it away. “Please stop!”

I grabbed the hem of her shirt, tugging it upwards. She didn’t resist. Her bra was hot-pink and lacy as those panties, her dark nipples peaking through. “What a slut,” I murmured and traced the edge of her bra. “Let’s get that off and free them sweater puppies!”

“No.”

I didn’t like her defiance so I pushed her bra up, exposing her full tits. I licked my lips, then bent my head down and started to suck on one. She gasped, then her hands cradled my head as she mewled in pleasure. I threw the rubber cock on her bed and felt around for the zipper on her skirt. I found it and her skirt slid off her hips. I released her breasts and saw her almost-naked body, and those lacy, hot-pink panties really didn’t cover much anyways.

“C’mon, Ruth, get them there panties off,” I told her. “I wanna see you fuck your little cooch with mama’s big toy!”

“Please, Mr. Ghost, my momma’s gonna be home real soon.”

“So? You take ’em off or I’ll rip ’em off, and tan your hide besides!”

Ruth pulled her panties off and finished taking off her bra, too. She folded them up and neatly set them on her computer chair. I was getting impatient as she started folding up her tartan skirt and I ripped it out of her hands and threw those back on the floor. She swallowed, getting the message, and laid down on her bed. She grasped the rubber cock gingerly.

“And this will help you move on?” she asked.

I knelt on her bed, staring at her obscenely spread cunt. “Abso-damn-fuckin’-lutely, sweetness.” My pecker was hard and I started to slowly stroke it.

“Fine,” she sighed, tightening her grip on the rubber pecker.

She rubbed it against her pussy lips, then slowly slid it inside herself and sighed softly. Her eyes widened as more of it disappeared into her tight cunt. It was thick – fatter than my pecker had been – and I remembered just how tight her cunt was. She kept pushing it in then pulling it out, and pushing right back in again.

“Umm,” she moaned softly, slowly fucking herself with the dildo. I watched the pleasure ripple across her face. She picked up the speed.

The room filled with a wet, squishing sound as the rubber cock reamed her teenage cunt. I breathed in her tart scent deeply, my eyes fixed to her cooch. Her lips were obscenely spread open, her pussy flushed red with her arousal. I could see her juices leaking out, running down her ass to form an ever increasing wet spot on her comforter.

“Are you watching?” she panted.

“Hell yeah!” I answered, almost speechless as she started playing with her clit. Watching her pussy engulfing the huge toy was mesmerizing. “Fuck yourself, whore! That toy is strechin’ your little cooch.”

She gave a throaty laugh. “This is so wicked!” She picked up her pace, fucking herself faster and faster. “I’ve never been so wet in my life!”

“Sluts liked to be watched!”

“Yes, watch me! Watch my naughty little cunt as I pump momma’s dildo in and out! Umm, it’s so big. I’ve never felt so full! Oh yes! I’m cummin’!”

Her breasts heaved, a flush crept across her skin as her orgasm rippled through her body. She buried the rubber cock inside her cooch, holding it in place as her back arched; her legs stretched even wider and I caught a glimpse of her puckered asshole. Her eyes fluttered as she shuddered then lay still, breathing softly.

“Keep going,” I urged her as I eyed the swell of her buttocks, trying to catch another glimpse of her asshole. What would it be like to slide my pecker up her shitter?

“Sure,” Ruth purred, and started diddling her clit as she slowly fucked herself again. “It’s so hot bein’ watched!”

“I reckon you’re one of them exhib’nist!”

I grabbed her pillow and shoved it beneath her ass. She didn’t stop pumping her ma’s dildo into her cunt. I spread her cheeks and looked at her asshole. I’ve never fucked a girl’s ass before, but I’ve always wanted to. I spit on my hands a few times, got my pecker nice and wet.

“What in the blue hells of tarnation!” she screamed.

She had stopped fucking herself as my pecker violated her asshole. I shoved it straight in, pushing deeper and deeper into her velvety, tight ass. “Don’t stop playin’ with your cooch!” I yelled as I bottomed out in her ass. She squirmed in discomfort, then started to slide the rubber cock in and out of her cunt again. I could feel it rubbing through her pussy. She was stuffed so full of pecker, both real and fake, it made her even tighter.

I started to slowly fuck her ass. She closed her eyes, biting her lower lip and wincing in pain. Slowly her winces turned to sighs and she opened her eyes, and licked her lips. She started pumping the rubber cock faster, pleasure contorting her face. I matched her pace with my ass-fucking.

“Oh fuck, that feels weird!” she gasped. “But nice! Umm, I think I like your dick up my ass!”

I laughed. “Only a slut would like it, though.”

“I am a slut!” she panted. “Umm, a naughty slut that…um…that loves gettin’ her ass fucked by a ghost!”

I really started to pound her ass and Ruth was reduced to wordless moans and gasps. Her breasts jiggled as I fucked her. Reaching out I started pinching her nipple. Her ass squeezed hard on my pecker. The delicious, little slut was lost to the pleasure building up inside her. And I was getting closer and closer to filling her dirty ass with my cum.

“Harder, harder!” she begged me. “Ream my ass! I’m so close to cummin’!”

Her hand was furiously thrusting the dildo into her cunt. I leaned over her and pistoned my hips as hard as I could. She shrieked as her orgasm crashed through her. I kept right on fucking her. My balls tightened, readying to cum in her ass as I kept pounding away. The little slut cried out again as she slipped into multiple orgasms.

The front door opened.

“Ruth, you home?” an older woman called out.

Ruth’s eyes opened in horror. Her door was open. I could hear her mom walking down the hallway. I kept right on fucking her, thrusting my pecker in and out; her ass clenching my pecker as she kept cumming. The footsteps drew closer. Out of the corner of my eye I could see a figure looming in Ruth’s doorway, her purse crashing to the floor.

“What in the holy hell are you doin’ Ruth Annabeth Ahlers!” her mom shrieked.

Ruth’s hand was still on the dildo in her cunt, her body drenched in sweat and flushed red. Ruth was still cumming as she tried to cover her breasts. Her ass squeezed even harder on my pecker and I stiffened and flooded her bowels as her mother watched her daughter’s masturbation in horror. I quickly pulled out and jumped off the bed as Ruth’s husky mom stormed in.

“Have you no decency, Ruth?” The mom’s eyes fell on the rubber cock sticking out of Ruth’s cunt. “You little slattern. Have you been sneakin’ ’round my room?”

“No, momma!”

Ruth yelped as her ma ripped the rubber cock out of her cooch. “Then where in the blue hell did you get this?”

“The ghost, momma!” Ruth was trying to pull up her sheets up to cover her nakedness.

“I’ve had enough with your lies about UFOs and ghosts! You are grounded for a month, young lady!”

“But momma…”

“No, buts! I have half-a-mind to bend you over my knee and tan your hide proper!”

Laughing silently, I slipped out of the room, out of the house, and wondered who would be the ghost’s next victim?

To be continued…

Click here for Chapter 3.

The Devil’s Pact, Ghost of Paris Chapter 1: Freedom

 

 

The Devil’s Pact

The Ghost of Paris Chapter One: Freedom

by mypenname3000

edited by Master Ken

© Copyright 2014


Story Codes: Male/Teen female, Mind Control, Magic, Voyeurism, Male Masturbation, Oral

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.



Friday, August 30th, 2013 – Paris, Texas

“Staying out of trouble, Scotty?” Mitchel Craig, my parole officer, asked me.

“Yessir, boss,” I lied.

It was complete bullshit that I was here. What was the harm in taking a few photos up a few girls’ skirts. I mean, they were wearing panties. Hell, those girls probably wear skimpier bikinis when they go to the beach. But the judge disagreed, particularly with my prior, and gave me three years. I was paroled in eighteen months, and had to report to this slug once a month.

“You still livin’ in Paris, son?” he drawled. Craig had a fat, ruddy face and he wiped at the sweat beading his forehead every minute with a grimy handkerchief he pulled out of his back pocket. “At that halfway house on Sperry Street?”

I nodded. It was the shithole that all the sex offenders were sent to. You had to be home by 8 PM, and your room could be searched at any time for ‘contraband’: porn, drugs, weapons, and booze. If you had a job, you could stay out past eight, otherwise you were confined to your room or a shitty common area with a broken TV, a couch from the fifties that had lost all of its padding, and a chess board missing half its pieces.

I ground my teeth as the fat sack of shit drawled on and on. I wanted to mosey my way over to Boone High School and watch the cheerleaders practice. It was the Friday before Labor Day weekend, and there wouldn’t be any school until Tuesday. It was bad enough having to go three days without watching those fine young things shaking their stuff, let alone adding another day because my PO liked to hear himself talk.

I wasn’t, strictly speaking, supposed to be watching the girls. I was a voyeur, and over the years my tendencies has landed me in a mess of trouble. When I was nineteen, I got a job at Boone High School in my home town of Paris, Texas, as a janitor. Well, I drilled a hole in the girl’s locker room and enjoyed the sights for a whole month before I got caught. That landed me my first stint in prison. Sentenced to six years; out in three on good behavior. I thought I got smarter, after I got out, thought I got more careful. But at twenty-seven, I was caught in the Paris Commons, the local mall, with my digital camera hidden in my shoe taking upskirt shots.

I just couldn’t stop. I loved watching girls. I often fantasized about being a fly on the wall, just watching them, up close. Or one of them superheroes that can turn himself invisible. I would just sit in locker rooms, watching the gals and jerking my pecker. I just had to see the ladies naked, I couldn’t help myself. Since my parole last month, I had already snuck a camera into the locker room at the Y and for three days got some delightful footage before the memory stick filled up.

“I’ll be keeping an eye on you, Scotty Adams,” my PO warned. “Don’t think you can be peeping on the girls under my watch.”

“Sure thing, boss,” I nodded. The dumb sack of shit had no idea what I’ve been up to since I got out. I glanced at the old, analogue clock on the wall; there was still time to watch the practice.

The cheerleaders were jumping around when I arrived. Their pretty legs flashing as they cartwheeled around, their firm breasts jiggling beneath their red tops. And when those gold-and-black pleated skirts flipped up and you could see their black, tight spankies that hugged their asses, well it was like I died and gone to heaven. Their school mascot was the lion, and the cheerleaders called themselves the Lionesses. But, it was over all too quick, and I wandered over to the public library. Maybe I’d surf some porn, or check out what was happening on reddit. You could always fine some girl posting a titillating selfie.

I browsed some porn for an hour, receiving a few dirty looks from a mother. Luckily, the first amendment protected pornography as free speech so the shrewish librarian couldn’t do anything about it. But, I couldn’t jerk off either, so I switched over to a few sites I liked to visit. One was called the Unearthed Arcana, a forum for people who loved the occult to post theories on, or to inform people on the latest revelations from spirit channelings and the like.

My first love was spying on pretty young things, my second was the occult. I just ate that shit up. I read Alice Bailey, Madam Blavastky, Alestier Crowely, David Icke, and all the rest. At night I would listen to Coast to Coast AM with George Noory. They were always preaching the truth about the government and aliens and the like. I loved it.

I started browsing the forum of UnearthedArcana.com. Someone posting as attaboy-simon claimed that the rising power in the Northwest, Mark Glassner, had sold his soul to Lucifer as outlined in the Magicks of the Witch of Endor. There was quite the lively debate. These Miraclists that worshiped Mark as a God were quite the fervent defenders, deriding the original poster for even suggesting that their God would consort with demons. attaboy-simon said he was going to prove them all wrong and his final post simply read: “I did it haters, fuk you and fuk your god! Lucifer gave me entire cheerleading squad!! *-)” It was accompanied by a picture of a man and more than a dozen smiling, naked girls holding pompoms.

My heart stopped.

Lucifer gave me an entire cheerleading squad, echoed over and over in my mind. What if this worked? I devoured the Magicks of the Witch of Endor, printing off the pages on how to summon Lucifer. It was well worth the thirty cents the library charged for printing if this actually worked. My hands shook. I could get three wishes for my soul. I was going to hell anyways, just ask my pa the Baptist preacher.

I could realize my dream. I could become invisible, and spy on women. But that was only one wish, what could I do with the other two? I smiled, thinking on the possibilities. I had to do this, it was the chance of a lifetime. I would have to break curfew, but it’d be worth it. Curfew wouldn’t matter if this actually worked.

I bought a steak, stole a grill out of someone’s backyard, and squatted in an empty house on the outskirts of Paris and waited for the sun to rise, a case of Coors to keep me company. I fell asleep. Luckily I remembered to set the alarm on my cell phone and woke up before dawn. I lit the grill and watched for the sun to rise. According to the book, if I offered a heifer as a sacrifice at dawn, I could summon Lucifer. Well, here’s hoping this steak came from a heifer and not a bull.

The wait for the sun seemed to be an eternity. The horizon lightened, fading from black to dark blue to light blue to gray. Hints of rose and orange started to appear. I was shaking with anticipation, my hand holding the bloody steak above the lit grill, just waiting for the first ray of the sun. When that golden light touched my eye, it was like the crack of the pistol at a race; my hand opened and the steak dropped, sizzling on the fire.

“The Shining One, Son of the Morning,” I shouted at the sun. “I give this pleasing offering of flesh and ask that you appear before me. The Shining One, Son of the Morning, appear before your humble servant so that he may beg three favors from you!”

For a moment, nothing happened. Disappointment curdled in my stomach. And then a wind rose up, whipping dust into my face, and I saw a dust devil racing across the dry fields towards me. I stepped back in fear as the brown whirlwind seemed to be bearing down right at me. The wind was howling as the swirling dust roared closer. This wasn’t natural. It stopped, just a few feet away, and I licked my lips in fear. Dust devils never stayed in one place. Then it stopped, and out stepped a handsome man in a dark suit, immaculately clean despite the dust falling around him.

“Hello, Scotty Adams,” the man greeted, a friendly smile on his face. His eyes were scarlet and I swallowed, my heart up in my throat, as he calmly strode up to me. “What’s the term they use these days?” he asked, pursing his lips. “Oh yes, you rang?”

I swallowed. “You’re Lucifer?”

“Really, son, I thought you’d be brighter than that,” he sighed. “You said the words, made the offering, who did you think I was?”

I gave a self-deprecating laugh. “Yeah, I guess you’re right, hoss.”

His scarlet eyes stared at me and I shifted uncomfortably in his gaze. After a minute, he asked, “Well, what do you want? It’s a very busy time for me.”

“Yessir, I guess,” I shrugged. “I mean, Halloween just ’round the corner, right?” Lucifer’s eyes narrowed in annoyance and I quickly said, “I wish to be able to turn invisible. Like, with just a thought.”

“Really?” Lucifer asked, a slight smile on his lips. “That’s a first.”

“Well, I mean, I’m pretty average looking. No-one ever gives me no second glance.” I shrugged. “Even still, I get notice far too much. Bein’ invisible, well, that’d just make things easier on me, hoss.”

“Okay, Scotty,” Lucifer grinned. “One down, two to go.”

“Well, when I’m invisible, I’m gonna molest women and I want them to enjoy what I do and not freak out somethin’ terrible,” I said. It came to me last night that spying on women was fun, but touching them, feeling their most intimate parts, well that would be even better. Lucifer nodded. I was surprised to see understanding in his eyes, not disgust. “For my last wish, I want to be immune from exposure when I’m invisible. Y’know, no sunburns, no frostbite, no hypothermia, or that heat stroke.”

“Done.” There was a flash of scarlet light and yellow smoke that smelled of rotten eggs and a contract printed on yellowing paper appeared in his hand. “Read it, then sign on the dotted line.”

I quickly read it. It was surprisingly straightforward. Lawyers could learn a thing or two. Lucifer pricked my thumb with a black, old-fashioned fountain pen, and I signed in my own blood. Lucifer signed in his, then he nodded to me and vanished in a gust of swirling dust.

Did it actually work though. I held out my arms before me, concentrated, and then to my delight, my arm vanished. There was just the sleeve from my Megadeath T-shirt. Holy shit, it worked. I went back into the house and checked out my reflection. I was just clothes around nothing. It was like that movie, Hollow Man, with Kevin Bacon.

I whooped in delight.

I peeled off my clothes, I didn’t need them anymore, and walked out into the street. It was exhilarating. I was naked and no-one could see me. This was freedom! No-one could see me, could judge me, or tell me what I was doing was wrong! I was free of all the bullshit morality that sent me to prison twice just for a little bit of harmless fun. It’s not like I touched any of those girls, just looked at their fine, taut bodies.

Well, I had the freedom to touch them now!

The street was warm on the soles of my feet as I walked down the black asphalt, the sun warm on my naked back. I quickly missed my shoes, but I sucked up the pain. People used to go barefoot all the time back in olden times; my feet would toughen up, I told myself.

There were, however, other problems.

I had to dodge out of the way of pedestrians. When I went to cross the street, a car almost ran me over making a right turn. And just because I was invisible, it didn’t stop dogs from barking at me. It was an adjustment; I needed to learn to be careful. But it was all going to be worth it as I walked up behind a woman waiting to cross the road.

She was wearing a lavender sundress with a short skirt. I reached out, grabbed the hem and lifted up the skirt and saw her pantied-covered ass, nice and plump, before she spun around. She frowned as she looked for whomever had grabbed her skirt. I almost laughed, this was priceless, watching the confusion on the woman’s face. She turned back to face the light and I reached out and rubbed her bottom. Instead of freaking out at the touch, she wiggled her butt back into my hand and sighed.

“Who’s there?” she asked, looking over her shoulder. I jumped back as she reached for me, then feeling bold, I grabbed her breast. Her eyes widened and I could feel her nipple hardening. Fear and pleasure flickered across her face as I groped her.

I would have gone farther, but a man barreled into me, knocking me down. The man looked around in surprise, and the woman fled across the street as I struggled back to my feet. I was about to follow, when I saw the car making a turn and I stopped before it hit me. Then the light changed red and traffic started flowing. By the time it was safe for me to cross, the woman had disappeared into an apartment complex.

Oh well, there were other women to play with. I kept walking, heading to the Paris Commons. It was Saturday and the teenage girls would be flocking to the clothing stores. I picked up my pace, eager to get my hands on some pretty young thing. My pecker was hard with anticipation, bouncing about as I walked.

It was challenging to walk through the mall. I had to hug the walls to avoid bumping into people, but I threaded my way to the Banana Republic. I waked back to the dressing rooms, waiting for a likely girl. The first was a tall girl, with an okay body, but her face was long and narrow and very plain, so I passed on her. Next was a chunky gal in her thirties and I shuddered when I saw the tight clothing she selected. It my opinion, spandex is a privilege, not a right.

The third, though, she was just right; young and hot. She was short and petite, with long, honey-brown hair and vibrant, green eyes. She had a shy smile on her face as she walked up to the dressing rooms, a couple of skirts, a pair of shorts, and several blouses in her hand. She walked back to the farthest changing room and opened the white door. I moved quickly, stopping the door from closing and slipping in.

She frowned as I moved into the corner, peering around. “Hello?” she asked with a dulcet voice.

I tried to stop my heart from beating and breath as softly as possible. My pecker was rock-hard with excitement as she frowned and then shrugged. She hung her clothes on the hook and grabbed the hem of her loose, white blouse and pulled it over her head. I almost groaned as her bare back came into view, marred only by the straps of her white bra. In the mirror, I could see her small breasts cradled in the plain, white cups of her bra.

Thank you attaboy-simon! This was so much better than upskirt shots and peepholes. I was just a foot away from a teenage girl, probably a freshman, stripping her clothes off. I grasped my pecker, stroking it gently as she kicked off her flip-flops, then unbuttoned her jeans. She wiggled her hips deliciously as she slid off her tight pants, exposing a pair of white panties decorated with Minnie Mouse. Her ass was slim and the panties dug into her crack, outlining her cheeks. When she bent over, the gusset of her panties was pulled tight against her pussy and I could see wisps of brown hair peaking out the side.

I almost came just from that sight. If I had been stroking my pecker any harder, my cum would have been splashing all over her rear. I stroked harder, trying to be as quiet as I could, but the sight before me was just too much. She straightened up, grasping the shorts and pulling them up her legs. She turned, looking at her ass in the mirror, her breasts just inches away. I stroked my pecker harder, biting my lips to keep from moaning.

“Is someone out there?” the girl asked, frowning as she pulled on one of the tops.

I slowed my strokes down and the girl shook her head, muttering under her breath as she modeled her clothes in the mirror. She frowned, shaking her head, and started to strip out of those clothes. She wiggled the shorts off, once again bending over. Oh god, her pussy was right there, covered by those tight, girlish panties, inches from my pecker. My balls were boiling and my face contorted in pleasure.

My cum was also invisible, it turned out, as it splashed on the girl’s ass and crotch. “What the fuck,” the girl gasped, jumping and spinning around. She rubbed at her ass, feeling my sticky cum, and she frowned as she lifted up her fingers, rubbing them together, but not seeing what was causing that sticky feeling. Her eyes flicked around the changing room. “What is going on?” she muttered.

God, my pecker was still hard. This was just too exciting. But I needed more. She turned to grab her clothes and I made my move. I reached out and grabbed the clasp of her bra and ripped it open. She spun around again, hands clutched to her bra to keep her breasts from being exposed. Her lip trembling in fear.

She didn’t resist as I grabbed her arms and pulled them away, just continued shaking in confusion. Her bra slipped off exposing her small, snowy breasts topped with dark-red nipples. Oh, God, she was so beautiful and innocent. She bit her lips, staring down at her arms, trying to see what force held her wrists.

“A-are you a ghost?” she asked.

“Yes,” I answered with a smile. “I’m attracted to the only the most purttiest girls.”

She flushed, her nipples hardening. “You think I’m pretty?”

I pulled her right hand down to my hard pecker. Her eyes widened as she gripped my pecker, squeezing gently. “Feel how hard I am for you, sweetness.”

She gasped, letting go, her entire body was beat red. “I did that?”

“I got to have you,” I groaned, my hands grabbing her flesh. Her breasts were soft yet firm, her nipples hard and she moaned as I played with them. It was strange, watching her breasts deform as my invisible fingers kneaded her pliant flesh.

“Do you need relief, Mr. Ghost?” she asked. “Do you have a bad case of blue-balls keeping you from passing on?”

I slid my finger down her taut stomach and started fingering the waistband of her cute panties. “I do. I’m in so much pain. I just need a purtty, young thing like you to give me some relief. Y’know, so I can get to heaven!” I slipped a finger into her panties and felt her silky pubic hair.

She was breathing heavily, her hands reaching out hesitantly until she found my body. “Okay,” she whispered as her hands slid down and found my hard pecker. “I’ll help you, Mr. Ghost.”

“Rufus,” I said. “Call me Rufus Scott, sweetness.” Rufus Scott was some bigwig from a long time ago, his mansion was a tourist attraction.

“I’m Mindy. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Scott.” She shook my pecker like we were shaking hands.

I knelt down and pulled her panties off. She gasped in surprise, but willingly stepped out of her panties. I held them up, sniffing her scent. She smelled sweet and fresh like a summer meadow. Her bush was darker than her hair, and matted with her arousal. I smiled, my Pact was exceeding my wildest expectations. I couldn’t resist, I stuck my head in and licked at her slit. I never went down on a girl before, but damn if she didn’t taste wonderful.

“Oh, Mr. Scott!” she gasped.

“Shh, you don’t wanna get caught,” I warned her.

“Sorry,” she whispered, then clapped her hand over her mouth as I dove back in for another taste.

Her pussy was tight and when I parted her lips she was pink and wet inside. I slid my tongue through her groove, gathering her tasty juices. I sucked and nibbled on her lips, then I found a hard button at the top of her pussy. I licked it and she shuddered and moaned into her hand. It was her clitoris, I realized. The pleasure button on a chick. I sucked it into my lips and she bucked like a bronco on my lips and I held on for dear life.

“Oh wow, I’ve never came so hard before,” she sighed happily. “Thank you, Mr. Scott. Now, maybe we should attend to your problem.”

“Abso-damn-fuckin’-lutely, sweetness,” I panted, standing up.

I picked her up she was so light, gripping her ass tightly. She wrapped her legs around my waist and I quickly maneuvered my pecker to her wet cunt. “Oh, yes, Mr. Scott,” she cooed happily as I sank into her pussy. She was tight, but no virgin.

She started pumping her hips on my pecker, and I enjoyed the velvety tightness of her pussy. I glanced at the mirror and all you could see was Mindy floating in the air, writhing like bitch in heat. I turned around, facing away from the mirror. Then I looked over my shoulder and I could see her pussy gaping open as my invisible pecker fucked into her pink hole.

“Oh, fuck this is wild!” I moaned, pumping my hips.

“I can see down my pussy!” she gasped softly as she saw her reflection in the mirror. “Oh, it’s so pretty! Mmh, your ghost pecker feels so great inside me!”

Her hips twisted on my pecker, driving me crazy with pleasure, and I pumped my ass as fast as I could. I just came a few minutes ago, but her teenage cunt was quickly building me up to another one. I squeezed her firm ass, then started sucking and licking at her neck. Her hard nipples and soft breasts rubbed against my chest and her arms snaked around my neck and she hugged me tightly.

“Oh, yes!” she moaned. “Sweet Jesus, I’m gonna cum again!”

Our flesh was slapping together, we were getting louder and louder. I had to finish before the store clerk interrupted us. The silky walls of her pussy rubbed the head of my pecker with every thrust, sending pleasure that radiated out from my pecker. I could feel my orgasm nearing and I pumped wildly. My balls were getting closer and closer to exploding. Just a few more thrusts and I would be there.

“Fuck!” I grunted as my cum boiled into her cunt. “Goddamn fuckin’ hell! You got one amazin’ cooch, Mindy!”

“Oh wow!” she gasped, bucking in my arms as her cunt spasmed on my pecker. “Oh, Sweet Jesus, yes! Yes! Oh crud, I’m cumming!” She panted, rubbing her cheek against me. “Umm, that was nice.”

“Yeah,” I said, letting her go.

“Good thing you’re a ghost,” she joked. “’Cause I’m not on the pill.”

“Uh-huh,” I laughed, then slipped out of the changing room, catching one last look of her naked body. Wouldn’t that be rich if she got pregnant.

I started whistling as I walked out, passing the clerk, a pretty young woman with black hair who looked around, confused, at the sound as I walked by. She had a firm-looking butt, and I couldn’t resist reaching out and pinching her fine ass.

“What the fuck!” she screamed in surprise.

I grinned. Mindy wore me out. I would need a break before I could go again. So, I started heading to my favorite spot in the whole mall. If you stood underneath the stairs that led to the second floor, you could see up a woman’s skirt through the gaps between the steps. I stretched out on the floor mall’s cold, hard floor. It was uncomfortable, but the view was well worth it. And who knows, in an hour or so, I bet I could find another woman to help a poor, suffering Ghost get some relief.

To be continued…

Click here for Chapter 2.