This story is mine and is copyrighted by me, The Purple Herald. Please don't copy it and add it to your website and make a profit off of my hard work. Please don't strip my name off of the story and claim it for yourself. Please don't be an asshole.
The urge was upon me. I watched the people moving in front of me on the street as I sat in the café. A glimpse was all I needed. A flash of thighs, a twist of their head or tightening of their purse would tell me everything.
Some women were pure of motive and useless to me.
Some women hated men and were of no interest to me.
Some women were ugly and undesirable to me.
Some women were bad and they glowed like brilliant stars to my eyes. These were whom I hunted. These were the women who searched for me when they tortured their husbands. These are the teases that leave their top buttons undone in the office. These are the women who refuse to swallow for their boyfriends but happily suck down the man next door.
Today I was impatient but He Who Must Cum blessed me for I saw a suitable woman rather quickly. She was a tall Italian woman with long black hair and heavy breasts. Her face had begun to age from too much stress and too much pouting. I could feel her disdain for everything around her and her lips were in a sneer to match my own. She was wearing tight jeans in a style that was too young for her but she wore them well.
She would be mine.
I paid my bill and went up to her. Her dark eyes flashed at me for my presumption but then softened. My curly blonde hair and cruel lips had that effect on bad women. I smiled warmly at her and began to tell her what I knew.
"When your husband is asleep, you go online as 'YourWhore38' looking for young men," I told her.
Her eyes widened in shock and she stopped on the street.
"How did you know that?" she demanded.
"Last night you yelled at your husband for wanting sex on a work night, even though your panties were soaking wet from talking to Jerry's son who lived next door."
"Who are you?" she hissed quietly on the crowded street.
"Last Christmas, you let your husband's uncle feel you up and then promised to meet him later after the party. You left early and masturbated for weeks about how disappointed he was."
Real fear replaced the anger she felt at first. "Is this blackmail?"
I chuckled. "No, this is your punishment." I took her by the arm and began walking. Her heels clicked on the pavement as she tried to keep up.
"I'm supposed to meet my mother-in-law in half an hour," she said.
"What's your name?" I asked. My powers let me see their sins but never their names. There is too much power in a name.
"Lillian," she said.
I tightened my grip on her arm. That was a sin. "Your real name," I repeated.
"Stacia," she admitted. "What is your name?"
"Neil," I lied.
I ignored her other questions as we entered my hotel. Her cheeks blushed as the hotel staff stared at her. Lisa could tell by their snickers that she wasn't the first woman I've brought here. It amused me that she was embarrassed. It was her fantasy after all.
The elevator doors closed on us and I pulled Stacia into my arms. Her mouth tasted like cappuccino. She melted into my arms as I devoured her mouth. It wasn't part of my powers; it was just something she craved.
When she was out of breath, I broke the kiss and turned her around. I grabbed the bottom of her blouse and pulled it over her head. Sure, she protested but she didn't try to stop me. While she was still turned around, I unclasped her bra and dropped it to the ground. I flipped her back around to kiss her again. Her nipples were stiff against my chest.
"Neil!" she admonished when I broke the kiss. "What if someone sees us?"
"They will," I said. The doors opened and I took the topless woman by the arm. Stacia tried to cover her large breasts with her free arm but it was useless. The heavy bosom that she used to taunt her husband was now exposed to the people we passed in the halls. Stacia buried her face in my shoulders every time we walked past someone but I knew she could hear their questioning laughs and lewd insults.
I opened the door to my room and Stacia rushed inside. Her cheeks were red but she was smiling. The slut was exhilarated.
"Really, who are you?" she asked.
"I'm the man who knows how many vibrators you hide in the bottom drawer of your dresser. I'm the man who knows about the group cyber fuck you had online. I'm the one who knows how many humiliation stories you read online and how badly you wanted to be the slut in those stories."
"How?" she asked with something like hope in her eye.
I cupped one of her tits in my hand. The tan lines painted the area around her nipple a pale white compared to the dark tan of the rest of her body. For a moment I considered telling her how I came to my powers: How I found the Purple Book, how I did the ritual that let me see the darkness in women that was matched in myself and for one long second, I even considered telling her of the terrible price I paid after every night of wild sex. Instead, I simply twisted her nipple in my fingers till she groaned in pain and desire.
Turn around," I commanded. "Strip off your pants."
Stacia obeyed. She couldn't wait to obey. The tall tanned woman wriggled out of those tight jeans as fast as she could. I didn't have to tell her to remove her black lace panties that she received from an online admirer. Her panties came down to reveal her round ass with just a touch of flab. Stacia was proud of her ass, and was prouder that no one had ever fucked it no matter how much her husband begged.
I pulled off my belt and cracked it on the floor.
"Bend over onto the bed," I told her.
Stacia did as I asked. Hesitantly, she bent over until her breasts and head were flat on the bed and her ass was up in the air. I kicked her legs slightly apart and picked up her lace panties.
"Do you know why you are here?" I asked her.
"Yes," she said, the excitement in her voice.
"Tell me," I demanded.
"Because I cheat on my husband. Because I tease everyone. I'm a selfish cunt that deserves to be punished."
.... There is more of this story ...