Episode 32: Hark Angel

Somewhen betwen 3000 and 1000 BCE! Bronze Age Bullshit! Best advice travel anywhere else!

“Oh fuck! Oh fuck! Oh fuck! Why did you have to make my clit so sensitive, Gemma?”

Former Army sniper and erstwhile homeowner to a haunted mansion in the wilds of Virginia Erin Parrish lay outstretched on a sacrificial altar as a full moon rose up in the heavens. With the stone temples nonexistent roof wide open the lunar glow illuminated the beautiful blonde’s body as well as her vivid actions for a good dirty thirty warrior women to witness. Masturbation at a time, rather IN A TIME like this was insanity. Many in their buxom number found themselves rubbing their own cunts while mumbling in some ancient dialect that to date had never been deciphered in modern day.

Their chants were almost fueling Erin’s inserted knuckles as if against her will. Not only that but the mesmerizing blue glow of her tiny stone emitted feverishly as if in a seismic wave. The stone which Erin had discovered in Afghanistan and illegally smuggling home had given her great comfort these last few years. Giving it the name Gemma as if it were her bestie the stone was moments earlier hidden away up her vulva in hopes it might not be stolen away. In a strange mental thought of jest the silly gem wiggled free of her vagina and had fused itself to her clitoris. It was now getting brighter and brighter by the moment. Almost hypnotic to the warriors observing her moans, Erin screamed a delightful exhaustion into the night.

Up in the hills a certain werewolf boyfriend, too soon, but the thought was nice sensed Erin’s exotic hormones and howled. He loved her delectible scent. No agony, all adrenalin he remained vigil and filling his belly with sheep innards. So good! Primal under the full moon catching him off guard he was fighting hard to maintain his sanity. This era was long before his bloodline curse was ever born so the moon’s phase was dramatically different. Time would tell how different!

Squirting violently time after time Erin seemed to never tire. Maybe that amped up ability bestowed by Gemma was fueling her, almost a direct opposite of what the Baphomet’s were doing in feeding their ewe’s back in Belltower, Virginia. Forward in Belltower rather! She hadn’t thought of that for even a second. All she wanted was to keep having orgasms.

Even the demon Lilith herself, wherever she resided seemed to be enjoying the show, yet knew her followers were struggling. The ritual had to be performed no matter the cost before her. The Dark One’s Lilith adored were waiting on souls. The souls that this centuries old plot would see to fruition. Sacred ground this island, where once a millenia past Devils were separated and sent to various versions of Hell. Forbidden children who lost their way. Pipeline to places unknown. This altar beneath Erin was the first lava formed rock at the beginning of time itself. Cooling beneath the harshest of suns and bathed in newfound water. Defiant!

“YESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS!” Erin shrieked, her echoing throughout the complex amplified all the way across the island. Inhabitants for miles, some not warrior women, merely female hunter gatherers heard the cries and felt their pussies tingling. It was almost as if a call of the wild situation. Even down on the beach amid dozens of the dead Erin’s timelost companion Belltower police officer Dreyfus Bodine revived and spit mud from his mouth. Energy depleted by sundown he wondered for a moment where he even was. Hearing Erin he realized he knew the voice.

Spying boats off the shore, the Minoans in wait for first light Dreyfus got up and made his way toward the beaten path up the hill. Uncertain what good he might be without his witch cursed Bull form or even a police issue handgun, all he had was bravado.

“I hope I am still of service after all of this, Mistress Abigail. I will miss you.”

Belltower, Virginia! The day Erin and her party left for the distant past!

“Please Ewing ... come back to us baby.”

Sara Lambert’s astral form was confined within her mother Vivian’s body. For some unexplained reason she along with her husband Abe were bound in a shared form. Navigating blindly they tried to get as close as they could to her own daughter Ewing, her outstretched body naked and vibrant on the grass of Black Thorn cemetery.

No reaction at first all they could do was stare at their quite naked daughter covered by a skinned lamb which housed the astral body of the youthful witch Abigail Bloom. The girl Ewing wore a pentagram emblazoned on the lamb’s bloody back, glowing red and absorbing the souls of the deceased from the graveyard one by delicious one. Fearing their own souls being sucked away spooked them but again, their real bodies lie on the other side of a barrier they had miraculously pierced. Would that save them? It was only their astral forms inside Vivian. “Abraham? You can’t possibly be turned on by this. She’s our daughter, how could you?”

“Dammit! I forgot we could hear one another’s thoughts. I can’t help it. I’ve never seen Ewing naked before now. Well, except as a baby. Sorry, Sara!”

“With a dead lamb on top of her sucking away souls? Are you really the man I married?”

“Of course, I am. I’m sorry! I’ll just hang out behind you if that’s even possible. And no I won’t say nice ass because it would be your mother’s.”

“Oh, fuck you Abe.”

“Yes! Fuck ewe, Abe.” They mentally heard Ewing’s voice with a disturbing echo inside Vivian’s brain. “Daddy wants to fuck his baby girl, don’t you daddy? You can if you want, I still have my asshole free to be used. Oh, wait! You don’t have a dick to use. You can assert control and use Grandma’s tongue on my ass, that could work.”

“Holy fuck! Ewing! Stop it this instant. What is going on here. Talk to us.” Abraham was now concerned more than ever. Forget his sloppy thoughts. He did indeed love his family.

“I am talking. Isn’t it so cool how wide my jaws are as I suck off that cutiepie, Lucas? I think my jaw is dislocated I heard boners popping. So hot!”

“You are not our daughter. What are you? Some demon?”

“Sure am, Mommy. You can enjoy my asshole too. I love two tongues in there at once. Shoot! Grandma’s tongue only. I keep forgetting where you two are right now. Does Grandma need her Depends changed?”

“WHAT ARE YOU?” Sara bellowed!

“The first succubus. That’s why I’m snuggling up to dear sweet Abigail. Say hello, Abi.” A muffled hello was heard, followed by an odd mutter of “Be strong my rock. My bull!” This seemed to make Ewing squirm a bit even as her thighs rallied to oppose the other end of the ramrod her cunt shared with the true sacrifice, missing person Felicia Wolfe. The ram’s head forced so deeply into each of their vaginas that it collided with interior organs, as well as a the spirit of a very deceased baby by the name of Serena Montoya sloshing about in the womb of Felicia’s cum filled belly. How Serena had form was insane by itself.

Each time the Shepard nutted it filled Felicia’s interior even more. To Serena’s solidified ghost somehow still able to maintain form it was like rocking in a cradle of goo. Not solid upon first entering Felicia, but now it was a transition, her psionic cries erupting through her biological sister Isabel’s throat. It made Izzy bawl!

The Bostonian first victim of the Baphomet’s rebirth teenager Vienna Edwards bound spirit within Izzy’s body was held captive and at the risk of being sucked away due to her unexplainable milky white pentagram that mirrored Abigail’s. In Izzy’s case the star was right side up whereas Abigail’s was still down sided. How any of this was of help no one knew, not even the bearers.

Izzy was clueless other than the fact she had a soothing feeling coursing through her rather than any pain. Still, she was unable to peel off of Felicia’s chest. The only thing she felt was the Shepard’s overheated breath teasing her butthole each time he snorted.

“Succubus?” Sara Lambert questioned it all. “I’ve heard my mom talk about them. Soul stealers, seducers. Why did you choose our daughter? She was so innocent.”

“Virgin she was. No longer! She worships sex now.”

“I damn you to hell.”

“Thank you! I look forward to returning home a hero.”

“Home? Where is home?”

“Eden! Where I can castrate Adam once and for all. Then let my brothers take Eve as the whore she was created to be.”

“In no Bible anywhere does it mention Adam and Eve as anything but misguided. The devil tempted Eve; Eve tempted Adam.”

“Is that what the scribes say? How utterly foolish. It was I that tempted Eve, we were lovers and that did not go over so well. When Adam was resorted to a cuckold the Creator grew tired of watching him touch himself. We were all cast out of Eden, mother of Ewe, of ewe, of ewe, of ewe. Right on down the line.”

“I don’t care. I believe in God. He will put an end to this.”

“Will he? His forces will be depleted, his putrid Heaven will fall around his feet.”

“At least God is a he.” Abraham realized!

“Did I say he? Perhaps I should say she. They?”

“STOP IT! Stop trying to confuse us.”

“Alright! Bye now! Rather busy. Suck harder Ewe! Show daddy what a good little whore you are. Dream of me daddy!”

As if on impulse Ewing Lambert arched her spine higher and used her hands to stroke the sides of her Baphomet’s firehose size girth. The merest touch made the beast that harbored Lucas Ramsey ram his dick deeper down his ewe’s gullet, so deep in fact his basketball size scrotum hid away Ewing’s face entirely. Topping that, the cryptid lamb was lifted up, Abigail screaming through what was left of its mouth.

Oddly enough, Vivian DeVore’s body vomited for Sara and Abe, their waning illness utilizing the elder’s bodily functions. Or so they thought! Ewwwwe! “Tasty, isn’t he? Do share the wealth my loving parents.” White gooey fluid spilled from Vivian’s mouth all over their daughter below, including the cryptid’s face. Somehow, the Baphomet’s nut transferred from Ewing expelled through her grandmother’s body. The taste horrid. Abe was not turned on by his daughter any longer. Scarred for afterlife!

Still going strong in the bright moonlight, Erin Parrish had her entire right hand shoved up her stretched cunt. The more female warriors gathering about the large stone altar each sharing expressions of lust, the harder she came. Whatever Gemma was doing to her body right now was more than welcomed. On a darkling level Erin felt obsessed with pleasuring everyone. Fighting her thoughts on behaving was next to impossible. There had to be more at work here than Gemma’s encouragement, she just knew Lilith was somehow factoring in.

Lilith’s voice returning to the temple alone escalated Erin’s hormonal insanity. Off in the hills Ian Flynn heard her screams, her howls. Even high on a ridge the wolf felt like jerking off. The sexual vibrations surrounding the island were just too strong. Too enticing! The problem was man was not allowed to defile these women. All females brought here as babies were raised to be independent of man. Just setting foot on the island was not good. Between Ian, Dreyfus Bodine, and strangely even the poodle Cotton they had tainted the soil. However, all three of them were mystically enhanced which salvaged the curse in these final moments.

Minoans lying dead on the beach only added to that taint. Those still out on the Black Sea awaiting dawn, not knowing what was coming, were only a breath away from the struggle of masturbation, the sexual waves in the air stimulating even they at a mile offshore. A lot of decks would be swabbed by morn.

Drums sounding, fires burning around the temple as if making certain no intruders could enter confined those within the habitat itself. Sheep herded within were being butchered for their coats, blood drained and poured all over the altar around Erin. Not even that, as gross as it was, prevented Erin’s knuckling of her uterus. The great stone wall with a million intricate runes carved within began glowing, possibly drawing in the flames about the temple. Who truly understood magic? True magic. Sorcery from the beginning of time on this planet, brought to it by castaways banished from celestial homes. Lilith was not one of those, she was born here on this very island where the first stones cooled. Eden? Not exactly! Never misinterpret the writings of man. It takes a woman to get the story straight.

Amid the stones glow, a formation appeared as if the runes were twisting and turning like puzzle pieces until the visage, a shadow of a tall woman with long flowing hair manifested. As if a shadow stepping through from another realm Lilith had arrived.

All of the islands warriors dropped to their knees in worship of Arias, as they knew her. Drums fell silent! As did the last of slaughtered sheep. Pelts were greedily cast on top of the altar as if a bedding for Erin. Observing Lilith’s rise, Erin Parrish swallowed at the ancient one’s untold beauty, her body covered in the runes that she brought forth from her residence in the rock.

Thoughts addled, Erin realized those were the very same runes that coated Ewing Lambert’s body in the far future. Whimpering at the notions she might end up like the ewe Felicia Wolfe, Erin mumbled, “Why Gemma? Why baby?” No answer, her blue pebble like stone fused to her clitoris had stopped glowing. As if forced back into its atomic level. That had nothing to do with her hormones, she simply could not stop having orgasm after orgasm.

Lilith stepped closer, petting her warriors on the heads as if lap dogs, each time they cooed and trembled a gifted orgasm that forbid them to touch themselves was offered. A circle to share her love of her worshippers, if it could be called that, Lilith waved her hand and the pelts of golden wool spread out around Erin.

A twirl of Lilith’s wrist, Erin’s entire body lifted three feet off of the altar, fisting herself in mid-air. While suspended the fleece bedding spread out on its own beneath her until the altar of blood was completely covered. The runes engraved on the altar itself made the pelts glow like fire, a bed of gold if ewe will. Lowered down into them Erin felt the softness, nice after hours on solid rock. No itch even, due to wool. Cozy!

A sudden howl in the distance now that the drums had stilled, Erin reacted to Ian’s call. “Puppy?” Forcing her hand free of her cunt Erin spilled a large volume of juices pent up within her. Hand drenched she flicked it, the droplets lashing out at a few of the kneeling warriors. As an unexpected result the women cried out and fell over in an orgasm gifted by Erin. Lilith witnessing this narrowed her eyes.

“Magic from your world? Tempting mine! How intriguing.”

“Baptism! They’re my bitches now.” Erin only had bravado. What else was left?

“You fancy yourself as a goddess? There are so many to choose from in the fantasies and hopes of mankind that they forget the Creator.” Erin dipped her fingers inside her vulva and gathered more juices flicking them about her at other warriors. Same result! The sheer joy within the women was felt when their voices were switching sides it seemed. Although indecipherable the language could easily be read as blessing Erin for her intimate love. Lilith found it amusing. Further water tortures shared Erin grinned.

“My pussy is better than yours.” Cocky bitch!

“Is it now?” Lilith sneered with a smirk. Casting a spell of her own merely by thought, those warriors blessed felt their faces burning, flesh scarred by Erin’s offer. Still, their orgasms kept them from feeling true agony. Lilith did not like the ignorance of pain and disfigurement even if the women seemed to be embracing the Hell wrought upon them.

Peering up along the temples stone cropping only Lilith could witness new arrivals. “Ah! The Watchers. Come to see your true Mistress triumph over the Creator? Try not to touch yourselves, it will get rather appealing quite soon.”

Erin hearing her in English as allowed by Lilith looked up. It was then that Gemma’s blue glow returned to her clitoral home. All around the outer ridge of the temple walls stood females, tall blue females with no eyes in sight, as hidden by locks of hair. How can they watch if they don’t have eyes? Boggles the mind! Watchers? Voyeurs? Wonderful!

A billowing cloud of steam erupted from beneath the altar where the hole Brimley Stone’s poodle Cotton fell into was. A deafening hiss of something hot being cooled in the water below had resulted in a hellish mist shrouding even Lilith. “A step closer my loves.” She was heard to say.