A bump and the prattle of pebbles against the side of the van told us all that we had gone off the road. If I had seen where we were headed, I might have ran away. It wasn’t simply about the place either. Had someone told me right then what great-grandma had done so many years ago, there would have been no chance I would’ve even spoken to Morgan or any of the other Phi Gamma Omega girls. I understand now why they put us in the van. It had been so much more than another way to force us to endure shame. No, that van was there to protect us from ourselves so that we could become free.
The car stopped at last. The back door opened with a creak. We stepped out into a courtyard with cobble stone walls around us. All the sisters were there. Two of them closed a wrought-iron gate behind us. Before us loomed a large Victorian home. Its black shingled roof rose like steeples to the cloudy sky. Its two lanterns on the porch gloomed an orange-yellow. The front door reached an arch, and on a plaque I saw ‘H.G. Constructions. 1962’ -my family’s company. We had built it years before I was born.
The sisters guided us into a dark foyer. The lifeless air cared nothing for us, but the lit, wax dripping, candelabra right past the front door awaited us. Morgan took hold of it, and then distributed single warm candles to all the sisters. She led us through stairs and halls until we entered what I know now was a chapel. A great stone fireplace stood at one end of a five sided room. Granite statues of chained male and female angels stood in the other four corners. Floor pillows, a pair of red velvet couches, and some ottomans were the only furnishings here.
Any sane person would have panicked at the sight of the altar in the center: A black clothed miniature table. A bowl and a bejeweled knife awaited us on top of it. One of the big sisters stroked a fire in the hearth. As it heated the room, Morgan motioned us pledges to a couch. Then, she took the knife from the altar, held open her hand, and made a long cut. She winced at the pain. Blood dripped from her squeezed fist into the bowl. Another sister rang a bell. Its tone filled the room in a relaxing vibration.
“Mistress of Phi Gamma Omega, lady of hell, and our patron,” Morgan’s voice projected in the room. “This generation of sisters gives our blood, as our sisters before. Come to us and judge which of our lambs is worthy.”
I remember so vividly the next moments. Each sister silently walked to the bowl, cut her hand, and dripped her blood into it. When they finished, they dropped a match into the bowl. A pillar of fire consumed it in a flash. Bristol looked like a terrified rabbit. Yumi held her hands together in her lap. Me? Yes, my head was spinning, screaming at me to leave, to run, to forget all that I was doing. But where could I go? Already I was becoming free.
“All kneel!” said a sister who rang the bell a second time.
The sisters turned and faced the doorway. All of them took to their knees around the room. Yumi, Bristol, and I followed them. The sisters began a whispering chant. Then the bell rang again. Then another bell rang. This time it came from the other side of the door. The tinny sound of the bell echoed along with whispered chants. Then our door creaked open, and the girls went silent.
In stepped a barefoot, black-robed girl. She carried a goblet, decorated like the knife. The girls moved and made way for her. She looked down at Morgan, who glanced up to her.
“Hello Morgan,” the girl whispered. “It’s been too long.”
“Hello Kayla,” said Morgan. Her short words dripped with remorse. Morgan forced a posture of strength. Kayla stepped between the girls, clearing space, and she did so with a serenity none of these other girls would ever know. Morgan’s heart suffered, I could see it even then. Two more girls followed, dressed as Kayla. The clasps at their necks held their hoods and robes in place. It created a long vertical parting that revealed their naked bodies beneath. One carried a flogger. Another carried a set of leather restraints. They motioned all the sisters towards the edges of the room.
Then she entered. I know what she is now. She is who was summoned, who offered a pact, and who maintains her bargain year after year. A woman, tall and with black hair set against light skin. She wore her thick, shoulder length, hair down like a glamorous 1950s film star. Her irises were of no natural color and glowed with a faint violet. Her tight bodice accentuated her chest. A black skirt flowed from her waist into whispy tatters below her knees. Leather straps criss crossed over her feet and up her shins.
Wings. She had a pair of oily, dark, bat-like wings coming from her back.
I wished to run. My mind told me to do so, to flee from something so unnatural and terrible. Yet my body would not obey. Bristol jumped back in fright.
“No! What the fuck this isn’t…” Bristol shouted.
A sister grabbed her and covered her mouth. Bristol muttered further protest, but this strange women look at her -at all three of us- with a malicious serenity that compelled us to silence. Bristol knelt again, eyes still open in terror and her lips sealed tight. Yumi’s breath hastened, but like me she stayed still.
“You have called sisters, and I have answered. I ask you, have I kept my bargain with you?” the woman began.
“You have, mistress,” said Morgan.
“Do you wish all that I offer you? Do you wish your lovers to be your servants? Do you wish to seduce those who stand in your way?” She took strides around the room. Looking over the kneeling girls and gesturing with her whole arms. Her spread wings churned the air. “Do you wish for years of lust without trouble? Sex without shame? To use those who would use you? To hear minds and to influence them?”
“We do, mistress,” said Morgan. She stood up as did the rest of the sisters. She motioned us, the pledges, to stay on our knees. “We offer tribute.”
The women paused and the room’s fire crackled behind us. She smirked. This woman radiated beauty like a black hole. It was this aura that would have kept me on my knees all night. One that even then made me ever so wet. That dress I had on? Already I wanted to strip it off like a whore.
“So you’re looking good, Morgan,” said the woman, this demoness. Her voice became gentle and familiar, leaving the theatrics of the ritual behind her.
“Thank you mistress,” said Morgan. Her voice was rote and without passion.
“The internship after you graduate?” said the demoness. “You did get it, didn’t you?”
“Yes, mistress,” said Morgan. “I’ll be flying to Los Angeles in June.”
“And what’s going to keep those sharks in suits from eating you up?”
“The power you gave us, mistress,” said Morgan. She gritted her teeth.
The mistress laughed.
“I’ve seen so many like you, Morgan. Regret nothing. Forget your sunken costs,” she said. She curled a finger under Morgan’s jaw and raised her own smugly. “Guilt, sweetie, it will eat you alive. Eat others instead.”
She greeted many other big sisters similarly, asking them each about their plans, where they would work, and what they would do. I thought of the wall in our sorority house. These big sisters would follow in those women’s footsteps, sucking the marrow out of life with unassailable ambition. I learned how my sorority had attained such glories in that warm, insidious, chapel.
“Now who have you brought for me?” said the mistress at last.
“Pledges, stand up!” commanded Morgan. “Stand in the center.”
We stood up and stepped with trepidation to the center of the room, lined up in bewilderment. We stood still. I dared to glance at the winged demoness who strutted around us.
“Now let’s do introductions, pretty little lambs,” she said. She pointed to Yumi. “Names starting with you.”
“Yumi,” she said.
“Yumi what?”
“Yumi Terese Allister.”
The mistress pointed to Bristol.
“Bristol Johnston.”
She aimed her violet eyes at me.
“Jasmine Haverton Vicinda.”
“Haverton.”
“A legacy,” I uttered.
“Right,” said the demoness.
She stepped around us. She tugged at my jacket and then removed it. It fell to the ground. Yumi’s fell next to it. The demoness pet our bodies with her hands and her wings, and even teased us with her undeniably hot exhales across the raised hairs of our skin. I don’t know if I could not move or if I didn’t want to anymore. When she cupped my chest, I tried to beg her to undue my dress zipper, and let my breasts be offered to her. Though those words stayed stuck in my mind. Already, I was becoming for her.
She put her arms around Bristol, and curved her wings around them both like an unholy cocoon. My mistress made the softest of kisses on Bristol’s neck, a peck so tiny, it was no louder than a rain drop landing in a puddle. Bristol moaned for it and gasped as the demoness stepped away from her. The terror in her wide eyes melt into a confused, and plaint, glaze.
“Fuck..” stammered Bristol. She undid the top of her shorts. Her hand went down into them. She touched herself in a fever.
“That’s it…” purred the demoness.
Bristol spread her legs and continued to caress herself. Her eyes darted around the room, and she was met only with the solemn silence of the uniformed sisters. One of the robed girls dragged a large pillow forth before her.
“That’s for you, little one. Get comfortable,” said the demoness.
Bristol dropped herself to the cushion. She undid her top and released one of her breasts from the bra. She got rid of her shorts next. Then put her hand back on her pussy, massaging it with a liberated sigh.
“You don’t come yet,” said the demoness. She walked to the altar and picked up the knife. “You keep pleasing yourself, but don’t you come.”
The demoness paced around Yumi, who stood as still as I did. Her chest rose and fell with terror. The demoness pressed the cold blade’s dull side to Yumi’s neck, who only craned her head higher and brushed her hair aside. With a flick of the wrist, the demoness sliced the cloth straps around Yumi’s neck. Her white top slid further off her chest with each other cut the demoness made.
Bristol squelched while she touched herself.
The demoness ignored Bristol and unclasped Yumi’s necklace. It tumbled to the ground and landed with a clink. Yumi’s expression melted into placidity. Her pupils opened as wide as unguarded gates.
“Jasmine Haverton Vicinda,” The demoness’s voice boomed in my head. “Stand beside Yumi here. Get a hold of her pussy. Both of you watch that slut over there.”
I cuddled next to Yumi. Her arm wrapped around me, holding me. My arm reached down and unsnapped the buttons at the top of her skirt. Some voice in my head told me that it wasn’t safe or normal. Wouldn’t I simply lick a big sister’s pussy and be done with it? I had been naked with these girls, but this defilement crossed so many more lines. Yumi didn’t stop me, but why did I do this? Was I doing it for my future ambitions? I had some purpose to join this sorority, but I was forgetting it. Because I was a legacy? That was a mere means to an end. The demoness desired this, and that single thought drowned out all others. My palm slid over the short coarse hairs of Yumi’s mons. I slipped my fingers onto Yumi’s folds and pet her.
“Yes… Jasmine,” she whispered. “Please touch me.”
We watched Bristol. She struggled, whimpered, and her eyes watered from the pain of denied orgasm.
“Do you want to come?” said the Demoness.
“Yes, mistress!” she declared.
“Can you come? Did I tell you I could?”
“No, Mistress!” Bristol’s voice strained.
The demoness squatted down. She groped Bristol’s trembling body, then took a hold of her nipple piercings and tugged. Bristol suppressed a scream of pain.
“Hurts, doesn’t it?” she said. Bristol gasped and cried out. Tears spread from her closed eyes. “I can let you come, would you like that?”
“Please let me come!” shouted Bristol.
“Oh, you’ll come,” said the Demoness with a playful tone. “You’ll all come. You’ll all be doing what I want tonight.”
She released her grip on Bristol’s breast.
“Orgasm, now!” she ordered.
Bristol’s legs shook in release. Her orgasmic screaming echoed against the hard walls. Drips of wet juices from Yumi’s pussy moistened my hand. My own pelvis sweltered with heat. I wanted Yumi right then. My teal dress became nothing more than an oppressive barrier between me and these sisters. Never, not once, had I lusted like this. This demoness, this horrendously gorgeous monster, had been changing me since the moment I crossed the threshold of this house. I loved her for it.
The demoness reached for the ties that held her tattered skirt in place. The robed girls knelt before her, one bearing the goblet. On instinct, I sat in reverence. Yumi did too. Bristol, still sighing from her climax, joined us.
“What comes at no cost in the world?” the demoness intoned.
“Nothing at all,” the uniformed sisters chanted around us.
The robed girls tugged away the demoness’s skirt, carefully folding it and placing it aside on a pillow.
“My power is a deep well of water, and I offer you all a cup full,” she continued. “Let lust be your leash. May you all live sweet, delicious, and enviable lives.”
The three girls reached to the demoness’s legs and hips and rubbed all around her pussy.
“And we offer lambs to you. One to be your thrall throughout her time in university. Choose well, our mistress.”
The demoness smiled and tossed her head and wings back. She groaned as her thralls caressed her. Then out of the top of her cunny, erupted a thick erect phallus. I wanted that strange, unnatural thing. Her entire visage, wings, hair, and that thick beautiful dick had a magnetic pull on my heart. Though her will invaded my head, telling me to remain on my knees. Those cloaked thralls took turns before the demoness, each one swallowing and stuffing that shaft in their mouths. Jealousy welled inside me, and the demoness could tell. She relaxed her body, and her thralls brought her to orgasm. First, the thick white cum fired in spurts. A messy splatter landed between the sister’s faces and the goblet they held. Then it came in steady pumps. Heavy drop after heavy drop landed in the goblet as the thralls wiped their lips. They wasted nothing. Kayla placed it on the altar.
The demoness made sweeping strides around. Wings whooshed and fanned us. With graceful movements that paid us no mind, she extended her hands out and downward as if controlling us by strings. Yumi and Bristol crawled forward to the pillows, both of them half naked. They went at each other in feverish lust. Yumi kissed Bristol from her wrists to her neck. Bristol rolled Yumi to her back, and her hair covered their passionate kissing. Why not me, I had thought right then. So stressed and anxious, I did not want to kneel and stare. My heart palpitated that the demoness did not regard me though it delighted me to see Yumi get out of even more of her clothes. Bristol straddled Yumi’s face, and Yumi lavished her pussy. It had to have ached. Yumi fucked Bristol with her fingers and pleased the clit with her tongue.
My mistress squatted behind me. She pulled down the back zipper of my dress. She slid her hands under it and against my skin. At last, she touched me. Her possessive hands groped all over my body. She grasped my neck and tilted my face upwards to her. Wings wrapped around me and she conquered me with a hard kiss.
“Mistress…” I said. I could not utter my desires fully. Bristol moaned in another orgasm.
“Yes, little lamb, you will please me,” she said. “It would please me if you consumed Yumi until she comes on your pretty face.”
She released me. At last, I undid my dress and my panties. It was maddening, that I spent so much time in anxiety and indecision about that outfit. I discarded it on the floor. No longer did its fabric bind me or keep me from pleasure. Something, some distant voice, screamed a quiet scream. It needed to know what was becoming of me, what would happen next, if everything would be perfect, if I would make the right class, and a dozen other silly thoughts. Yet that scream became so quiet and distant against a singular domineering thought: I would be for my mistress. It pleases to obey.
Yumi welcomed me between her thighs. The first taste of her tangy pussy juice touched my lips. Never had I tasted that flavor before. I took hold of her pussy, palming and caressing it, and it thrilled me to hear the sounds of pleasure in her voice.
“I want your pussy, Yumi,” I couldn’t believe I said such things. I hadn’t ever done this before. I fingered her, finding her clit, and then played with her some more. Her faced flushed in delight. The will to dive down on her could not be resisted even if I had tried. I found my face between her thighs licking her long, tear-drop shaped cunny as my mistress wanted. Yumi sweltered with juices there. So much that the smell and taste overwhelmed me. The novelty, and unnaturalness of everything that happened to me might have stopped me, but now I craved Yumi like I craved my mistress’s pleasure. Yumi’s pussy splashed juices onto my face. Oh the sounds she made when she came! Yumi forget everything except pleasure as she wailed.
We welcomed Bristol in and we became a pile of pulsating lust together. We’d been naked together for hours, though never had we become this intimate. I had no idea that lips on my clit could feel that good. Bristol yearned to please me that way. I liked holding them, and rubbing them. Each new way that we found to tease each other only energized our tired bodies further. Our orgasms, our spectating sisters, and the aura of our mistress, consecrated our threesome, in all of its depravity.
“Split yourselves up now, lambs,” commanded the demoness. We obeyed and departed away from each other. Oh, I wish I could have held Yumi for only a few moments more. Though I did not linger on that thought long. The thralls surrounded me and I knelt with instinct. They passed around the cum filled goblet. Each one took a sip and swallowed the pearls down.
“Now you,” said Kayla. She held the cup out to me and I took it. They’d left a lot for me. “All of it.”
If you had told me that I would ever do a thing like this, in this chapel, before these girls, I may have abandoned my destiny. Now, I know never to overthink, and life is only to obey. I took the goblet to my lips, held it bottom up and let the thick cool cum pour into my mouth. The sisters and the thralls whispered a chant. The cum! There was more to it than a sweet and salty taste or the texture as it slid on my tongue. My mistress’s cum took the evanescent, post orgasmic bliss in my mind, and stretched out its euphoria. When I handed the goblet back, I looked to Morgan. Her face looked like it had when Kayla talked to her. I didn’t know why she looked sad. What was there to be upset about? She could be jealous of me though it didn’t matter. I’d never been so satisfied and serene.
“The mistress has chosen,” said Morgan flatly.
“Hold the bell, sisters,” said my mistress. “This one is special.”
Gears creaked above from the ceiling. A chain descended from above us. One of the robed girls attached the cuffs to it. I reached for them and my mistress closed their clasps around my wrists. The chains tugged back up lifting my heals off the ground, forcing me to balanced towards my toes. My mistress groped and fondled me. Her nails scratched my skin. She twisted my nips as she had Bristol’s. Oh, it hurt so much. I loved it.
“Morgan knew I would pick you, Jasmine Haverton Vicinda,” said my mistress with sadism. “I will tell you why.”
Her cock teased my belly so close to my wetness. I lifted my leg to accept her and my mistress stepped back.
“Your ancestor called me here,” she said. “She was the first to ask for a deal.”
She undid the leather bracers on her wrists, dropping them to the ground. Her thralls unlaced her bodice. Her perfect breasts came out. I wanted to place my lips on her wicked nipples and make my mistress feel good.
“She offered her dorm roommate as tribute.” My mistress stretched out her wings and arms, displaying smooth and vivacious skin. “I still wear that body today.”
She held my cheeks in her both hands. Her violet iris glinted with a new glow. She struck my cheek with a mean slap.
“I gave your ancestor wealth, power, and luxury. Without me, she would have been nothing, another anonymous, helpless, housewife.” She stepped back and gave me another hot slap in the face. “Smarts though, she had on her own. She knew better than to allow her daughters to come to this sorority.”
The demon held out her hand. Kayla placed the handle of a flogger into it.
“I’ve waited over fifty years, and through dozens of thralls to take a daughter of Helen Haverton.”
She whipped the floggers tails back and forth as she stepped closer. The flying tails inched closer. I arched my back, offering my breasts. The tails brushed over my nipples. I wanted it. I stretched my chest out further forward. I needed to get beaten. “Beat me,” I muttered out loud in a haze. My mistress closed the distance. The lush tails landed on my chest with thud after thud. Better than anything I had felt on my skin until then. Each slap hurt and left an echoing sensation of agony on my skin. My mistress did not relent and the will to keep my body prone held me there. I yelped at each strike, and begged her to continue.
“For the next four years, you are mine!” declared my mistress. She stepped around me with the flogger. Strikes landed on my shoulders, ass, and thighs. “You will wear what I tell you to wear, or will be naked as I see fit. You will attend classes when I say and leave them as it pleases me.”
She gave a series of cruel slaps to my ass.
“You will fuck, who I want you to fuck,” she sneered. “You will seduce who I command you to.”
My chest took another aggressive flogging.
“You will reside here, cloistered with your sisters. You will sleep in a cell or in a cage, for no reason except my appetite,” she growled. She handed the flogger back to Kayla, then embraced me. Her nails tickled my beaten skin once more. Talons at the tips of her wings grazed my back side. Oh, it was wonderful.
“What do you say to all that?” she hissed.
“Yes mistress. I obey.”
“That’s right. Now tell your sisters something else,” she tugged the nape of my hair, directing my face to Bristol, Yumi, and the uniformed sisters.
“I love my mistress…” I pronounced.
The chain extended lowering my heels, then my arms, and then slacked to the ground in a cold rattle. The little voice didn’t exist now. There was not even a quiet screaming one. Obey the mistress. Please the mistress. Those thoughts echoed with every breath now. How I would please remained the only choice that mattered. What did my mistress want from me? On my knees, with wrists bound, I dared to take hold of her thick phallus. I licked it and sucked it, just as my cloistered sisters had done before. Would she give more of her cum? I didn’t know, but I needed her dick in my mouth. The way she moaned made me so proud and so free.
“You’re good at that, thrall,” said my mistress. “Touch yourself while you suck me. Get wet.”
I rubbed my clit. The pleasure of the suckling and the ache at my clit made me more lustful.
“Enough,” commanded my mistress. “On all fours, thrall!”
I assumed the position. My hips tilted upwards. My pussy dripped with juices and my mistress glided her cock over its surface. Then she penetrated me. That painful stretch from such a hard, warm, and thick shaft put me in a deeper stupor. My mistress fucked me like a whore. She rammed me with an aggressive fury.
“I love my mistress,” I stammered when she turned me over to my back. I could not get enough of her. Her chest shook and her eyes glowed as she rammed away within. I twiddled my own clit, bringing myself closer to climax.
“Not yet,” said my mistress. “You will come when I permit you.”
She positioned my hips to fuck me deeper. I’d become such a slut for her. The will to keep touching myself, while suppressing my own orgasm overrode the pain and tears. The fucking changed pace. My mistress moaned and her beautiful face blushed with her climax. She didn’t need to tell me. My body released in time with her, and gushed juices against the cock inside me. Her cum pumped inside.
She pulled out. I flopped down to the stone floor.
“Phoebe. Samantha. Take care of your new sister,” she said. My two cloaked sisters came to me. They rubbed my ravaged body with this oil that smelled like lemon grass. It softened that throbbing on my skin. I might have drifted off to sleep under their soothing care. Though I stayed half awake, and aware of all those in the room around me. My mistress had flooded my pussy with her cum. I enjoyed that my sisters saw it drip out.
One sister rang a bell.
Yumi and Bristol blinked. Bristol looked around with wide eyes. Yumi reached for Bristol’s hand. They both sat there panting. Were they afraid? No, that wasn’t it. Surprised. That’s what they looked like to me.
“Well bitches, get your clothes,” said one of the sisters. Yumi and Bristol grabbed the rags they came in with and held them in their laps.
“Now you, little thrall,” said the demoness. “What will you do with that precious dress you walked in here wearing?”
The fire still blazed. Its orange light beckoned me to do what my mistress expected. I gathered that coat, that dirty old pastel dress, even my shoes, and my thong. I tossed them one by one into the fire. So simple I became then. No more apprehension, anxiousness, or brain spinning its wheels so fast that I could not choose. There were no decisions now. My mistress had made me free.
“Morgan?” said the Demoness. Her glorious cock had receded. Her wings folded behind her back, while Kayla tied the back of her bodice.
“Yes, mistress?”
“You’ve given me what I’ve wanted for over half a century,” she said. “Do you know Kayla’s time of enthrallment ends soon?”
“Four years as always,” said Morgan.
My mistress motioned Kayla forward and pulled back her hood.
“She needs to slowly adjust to life outside my cloister,” said the demoness. “I want you to take your old friend home tonight. She’ll please you if you want that, or not if you prefer. But you must share a bed with her tonight, and maybe longer.”
Morgan’s eyes brightened in surprise. Kayla stepped to her holding her palms out, and Morgan took them as if to lead a dance. They looked at each other for a time.
“You still there?” Morgan whispered. Kayla leaned in and the two of them connected lips. Morgan’s lashes opened wide, then she closed them as she explored the sensations. “I guess we’ll find out,” she said when they released.
Morgan then turned to Bristol and Yumi.
“Congratulations bitches, you made it. You’re full sisters now,” she said. The other sisters applauded. “How do you feel after all that?”
“You all did this too?” said Bristol. “Then I’m good. We can do anything.”
“I’ve wanted to be with women forever,” said Yumi. “That was my first time. I feel… well no one here can judge me, right?”
The sisters chuckled warmly. Morgan smiled.
“Yes, that’s how I felt too when I sat there my first year,” said Morgan. “Now you know our secret. Every year we pay tribute to our mistress. You’ll see these other girls around campus, in our sorority house and so on. They don’t belong to us anymore.”
She paused and glanced at Kayla.
“Now there is this door here that opens to the basement in the Sorority house,” she began.
My mistress turned to me and spoke softly.
“Little thrall, it’s time for you to go to bed,” she said. “Phoebe and Samantha will take you to your cage. Soon, I’ll prepare your cell for you myself.”
“Yes mistress,” I said. My robed sisters held my arms. They led me through the door and into the dark hallway. I became a cloistered thrall to a gorgeous demon. My mind became numb. My will was suppressed, usurped, and replaced with hers. What would become of me? I didn’t know, but placidity and pleasure soothed my once uncertain heart. No longer would I exist as I had before. I need only be for my mistress now.
End Chapter One
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One of my personal favorite kinks is religious taboo. It’s fun to read about sex cults in action. It’s even more fun to read complete sexual desecration. Because why avoid sin? Temptations is only as delightful as the tempted is conflicted.
Since I began writing erotica years ago, I needed a NSFW author avatar of my own. Sure, I had a pretty hot illustration for years, but it wasn’t mine. Yet my own visual art greatness goes only far as picking colors for background gradients.
