Book five of the Noah Ravenswood series titled “The Devil His Due” is out at www.darkroastpress.com as of Thursday January 21, 2010. Here’s the first chapter just to whet your appetite!
AUTHOR’S NOTE: The following contains graphic language, sexual situations and violence if you are under the age of eighteen LEAVE NOW!
Candles flickered in the dark cellar around the chorus of droning black hooded figures. They sang as several of their number surrounded a naked blonde woman kneeling on the cold cement of the basement. In the scant light dancing upon her the woman’s trembling breasts appeared to ripple though she held still, with men around her stroking their hard cocks in a religious fervor. Her eyes darted around nervously as they tugged at their bobbing members. Her eyelids fluttered and she shut them, waiting for their ejaculation.
Standing off to one side was a man covered in an elaborately embroidered black cloak. Like the woman’s tits, the gold threads which formed mystic symbols seemed to move of their own accord, weaving snake-like over the material. With a whispered word of corrupted Latin, High Priest Cloven completed the circle with a flick of his fingers. The small exertion of his magical will sealed and began the ritual.
He turned to look at the men he had chosen by whim to sanctify the woman he had randomly picked out to serve as their altar. He smiled as he recalled her giddy joy at the choosing. She wasn’t gorgeous, but she was cute in a passing-glance way. If they didn’t peer at her too closely they would find her reasonably attractive until they fixed their lusty gazes upon her face. Her teeth were a bit crooked and her face had a pinched, angry look to it.
But her body did make up for the unattractiveness of her features. Her tits were full, yet perky. Her nipples stood out erect in an arching manner that seemed to beg for someone’s touch. Her limbs were supple and firm. Cloven stared at the line of her spine curving from the nape of her neck and flowing pleasantly to the small of her back. Beyond that narrow waist was the extended swell of her ass, heart-shaped and dimpled, making his cock twitch with a sudden carnal need. The flesh of those globes was white and flawless, tempting him to walk over and redden it with harsh blows of his right hand.
She would mark up very nicely. He nearly groaned out loud as he envisioned his burning handprint on that pristine fleshy surface. The unexpected need to strike her unprotected ass, rapid and hard made Cloven tremble with breathless, hot desire. The bottoms of her feet peeked out beneath the swells of her ass, only making her willing submission seem that much more erotic. Her dainty feet were accented by black toenail polish that gleamed in the soft, yellow candlelight.
He tore his stare from her sexy body and got back to the business at hand. “Anoint the altar, ye faithful followers of our Infernal Lord,” their tall thin leader intoned from the depths of his pristine black velvet hooded robe. Their efforts increased and tight fists flew faster across their rigid manhoods. He witnessed the whitening of the knuckles of their other hands that held up the hems of their robes. They swayed on their feet with hoarse grunting as their orgasms neared. With a smile, Cloven watched as the men gasped with whimpering cries and thick arcs of their semen jetted forth, painting the woman’s body. Semen splattered on her face, hung off her erect nipples, and sprayed randomly over her naked form. His own erection twitched once more as she darted out a tongue to clear off her smeared lips.
He moved towards her with a purposeful stride. “Kneel and take your place,” the High Priest instructed her. She got onto all fours to obey and seductively crawled to the spot where he pointed. Her unholy passions skyrocketed and her musky desire was evident. He could see the wet gleam of her labia as she parted her legs wide to maintain her balance.
I should hold her back for the further instruction she desires, he thought sarcastically to himself as he wet his trembling lips. No doubt she would willingly do anything I ask.
Her cascading golden hair fell like a curtain, hiding her features as she cried out in painful need. He noted she wept; her tears dripped onto the cold floor. The sight of four men using her naked form to masturbate had electrified her aching longing.
Soon she will be crying for another reason, he smirked inwardly. She’ll be kneeling here for over an hour and it will be interesting to see if she can manage to hold the position. I wonder if she’ll succeed, or succumb to the toll of time quickly taxing the limits of her strength. His lip curled in appreciation of his own rhetoric. It mattered not if she couldn’t; the Master will be served by her pain just as well as the sex magick she will help provide.
She had come to the cult with an overpowering desire to learn dark magick at Cloven’s feet. The woman had literally thrown herself before him only a week ago when she accosted him at the front door of his mother’s house.
“My name is Juliana,” she’d cooed from across the threshold. “I heard you could teach me magic.”
“Oh yes,” he recalled telling her with a wide smile as he stared down at her heaving bosom with his lust apparent on his face. “I can indeed, my child.”
Now, in the chilly confines of the downstairs of his mother’s house, that comment was still funny, because she was only a few years younger than him. She had stood up and come in to have a cup of coffee. She drank it provocatively while he interviewed her to see if she was genuinely interested. He used coffee time to discover if a prospect was really a cop or a reporter. He had too many encounters with such types the last few years to just allow anyone to walk into his inner circle.
She stayed for an hour and talked. Quickly he figured out she was just as she appeared, a college student looking for something to give her life meaning, another little lost lamb who had wandered too far from the shepherd. Like many people nowadays, she was a product of her time. Mommy and Daddy worked and her siblings were too involved in their own pursuits. This left poor Juliana feeling without a connection to the world or anyone in it. She spoke of a missing portion in her life; he pretended to listen but spent most of the interview watching her breasts move as she talked and breathed.
It was a delightful view. But not as interesting as the one she’s sporting now. Cloven watched as the men’s leavings dripped off her body to pool in sticky puddles around her knees and hands. He smiled, deep within his cowl. Debased desire had turned her into his ritual tool. He turned from that hot vista and waved his hand at a tall steel brazier, which erupted into a burning blaze at his gesture. The “ahs” and “wows” of the cult stole out from under their hoods at his demonstration of power.
He retrieved the brand and placed it inside the leaping flames. The brand had been made during the darkest night over two years ago. It was one of the first things he had created after agreeing to become an initiate to his demonic teacher. The brand was a combined symbol, depicting an inverted crucifix piercing the center of a reversed pentagram. He had smeared his own blood on it while letting the succubus penetrate his anus with a strap-on as he ejaculated on it, to complete the unholy rite. His awakened organ twitched yet again as he recalled the overwhelming power of that climax.
He picked up the darkly stained basket lying beside the brazier and placed it before the human altar. He heard the brand sizzle as it heated as he turned to address his congregation.
“Brothers and sisters, bring forth the offerings,” he said, and he took his place behind the altar.
They rushed forward to pour all sorts of coins, bills, and valuables into the black wicker basket he had placed before the kneeling woman. Rings, necklaces, wallets, credit cards, and other material goods fell in a rain that would have made a miser sob with joy. As quickly as they deposited their stolen goods, the cowled multitude hurried back to their previous positions. Only one, a college professor, hesitated as he fumbled within the folds of his cloak. He produced several first edition books by a very popular author and dumped them on top of the glittering pile. He bowed quickly and ran back to his place beside his young male lover.
“Let these tithes, taken by force and bloodshed, please our Lord this night,” he addressed them with a commanding voice. With a dreaded familiarity an unsettling feeling engulfed him. In the darkness, hidden in the far back corner, he felt his mistress arrive from the Void.
He could see her broad smile as it gleamed in the pool of night while her gaze caressed him like a hot touch. She was positioned within the sanctuary but outside of the circle of power he had created. He opened his Third Eye to make sure it was indeed her. He saw the memorable seductive curves of her body outlined in his Sight. Her wide hips, mammoth bosom, and curvaceous limbs shone within his otherworldly vision. An unnatural lust burned within his soul as he viewed her lush body and remembered wanton things he had done to it.
“We conduct this mass for his Infernal Majesty,” Cloven said a shaky tone. “Our goal is to awaken him to beg for his indulgence to aid us in our dark desires. Who wishes to sacrifice to our sovereign lord?”
“I do!” a voice rang out of the crowd.
“Come forward then.”
The large figure draped in black hastily moved to the forefront of the crowd and supplicated himself just a hand’s reach from the black wicker basket. Cloven looked at the prostrate form and rolled his eyes within his hood. It was Johnny Chesterfield, as usual. The thirty year old manager at a local fast food restaurant was constantly begging for the Master’s favor.
Cloven had seen him at work just a few days ago. The fat man had stared at the cashier waiting on Cloven with his piggy eyes filled with lust. He was eternally confounded by the high school girls who worked for him. The current object of his affection was named Shelly Macmillan a high school graduate with smoldering brown eyes, a black mane of gorgeous hair, a cheerleader’s body, and a bright future ahead of her. The nineteen year old college student ignored his pathetic advances and wallet-draining gifts with her hands barely covering her smirking lips.
“Brother Stag, what do you offer up to our Dread Lord?” Cloven inquired, addressing him by his coven name in a bored tone.
“I offer up my firstborn!” the man answered in a loud, proud voice.
“You do not possess a child, fool!”
“If my lord grants me my desire I would sacrifice my firstborn to him! With his aid I would secure a marriage to Shelly and… ”
“The Master demands payment first,” Cloven reminded him with a frown, interrupting the man’s obviously well-prepared and practiced speech. “What would you do if your teenage bride produces no offspring? The Master would be quite vexed with you.”
“I,” he blubbered as he lifted his face towards Cloven.
“Ye have continuously come forward each mass to beg for the hand of one woman or another. Yet thou bringest only trinkets as payment of what would be a king’s ransom. Do ye really think that He would bother to grant thy miserable request?”
“But, but,” the man stammered.
“Get thee from my sight!” Cloven thundered. “Thou doth make me sick with thy weak desires and paltry offerings. Come forward at thy own risk unless thou possess something of greater value than words!”
The humiliated man staggered to his feet and started to turn around. Suddenly he spun in place, pulling a cruelly barbed knife out of the sleeve of his robe. Cloven backed up a step out of sheer instinct as the weapon’s gleaming blade was revealed. Brother Stag jerked off his hood revealing his red, tear stained face, which he thrust audaciously at the High Priest.
“Thou darest pull a knife on His chosen High Priest!” Cloven snarled with false confidence as the icy tendrils of sheer terror gripped his heart.
“I will s-sacrifice,” Brother Stag sobbed as he bent over and jerked up the hem of his robe, “I will give up…my own…f-flesh!”
Cloven eyes widened as the man reached underneath his considerable paunch and exposed his shaved and shrunken genitals. Before Cloven could speak the man took hold of his penis and moved it aside. With a nervous lick of his lips he drew the serrated blade across the top of his bared testicles drawing a bright red line across his scrotum. The line widened in a sickening manner and fleshy, bloody lumps fell to the floor of the basement in a rain of scarlet gore. A horrified gasp rippled through the assembled cultists as the knife clattered to the concrete. Brother Stag tried to stem the tide of crimson he’d created with both shaking hands. Cloven looked up to his mistress, who inclined her head, indicating the offering was acceptable.
“Thy sacrifice pleases the Master,” he stated with a smile. “Ye have finally grasped what is required and in return He will make her thine.”
“T-thank you,” the ashen-faced man moaned, pale from blood loss and pain.
Cloven walked quickly to the brazier and pulled the red-hot brand from the fire. He glared at the shivering mass attendees as they cowered away from their bleeding parishioner.
He walked over to the whimpering man and seared the wound closed with the blazing steel poker. Stag screamed shrilly as the metal, glowing a cherry red, seared his sundered flesh closed with a sizzle of burning meat. A quick whiff of stinking, fried flesh filled the room and greasy smoke drifted up around the man’s large gut.
“If thou truly desire His favor,” Cloven spat at the rest of his congregation, “thou wilt take to heart Brother Stag’s example when ye each come to plead thy case.”
They went silent. As their maimed member limped back into their ranks, Cloven called for another of their number to surrender what was needed to attain their desires.
The cult had gone and the candles were snuffed out. The basement was now lit by electric lights and Cloven stood there staring at the bloody pile still cooling on the basement floor. He had mechanically gone through the rest of the mass, completely unnerved by Brother Stag’s unexpected antics. After the fat manager had spilt his blood and flesh upon the floor the rest of his followers offered lesser things. As they filled out wordlessly, Juliana the altar rose from her hands and knees and offered up her body to Cloven with pleading eyes, trembling limbs, and wet musky cleft. He had been too shaken by Brother Stag’s actions and merely told her to come back another time to complete her initiation and dedication to their Master. She left still barely able to contain her pleasure and need, forgetting entirely to wash off the dried semen from her face and body. She wiggled and bounced her ass as she climbed the stairs, but Cloven was unable to rise to the occasion.
“I can’t believe he cut off his nuts,” Cloven whispered in awe. “I never would have suspected he had that kind of courage.”
“As you said,” a sultry voice answered from the back of the room, “he realized what he needed to sacrifice to attain his goals.”
Cloven turned to the speaker who emerged from the shadows. She strode confidently towards him, igniting the long dead coals of his lust. She was utterly and completely naked. Her bright red skin was unmarred and smooth. Her breasts were ridiculously large, like the bosom of some Japanese anime character. Those huge globes hid her biceps and swayed in a liquid manner as they rolled upon her chest as she walked. Capping those enormous tits were dark, almost black nipples the size of fifty-cent pieces. Her pelvis was accentuated at the center by a black haired cleft. The creature’s clitoris protruded unabashedly from her pubic mound as if it was crying for his lips and tongue. Beyond the wet, glistening labia her body split into a pair of perfect legs that narrowed to a pair of finely boned ankles. Her delicate feet soundlessly moved across the floor. Her tail whipped cat-like between her legs. The end of it was arrow headed, wide and flat. It slapped at her heels as she sashayed sensuously up and pressed against Cloven, making his temperature and heart rate rise due to her close proximity.
She was unearthly beautiful. Her face was framed by her long, luxurious black hair and a ringed crown of delicate red horns atop her head. Her ice cold, blue eyes transfixed him like a bug collector’s pin would a new specimen’s carapace. Her ebony lips parted revealing teeth so white and perfect that they would make an orthodontist weep with joy.
“S-sacrifice,” he muttered drunkenly.
“Yes, sacrifice.” She smiled as she caressed his quivering lips. “Sooner or later everyone has to pay the debts they have rung up in life.”
“What’s on your mind?” he drawled, chuckling inwardly at the dark humor of how the female demon usually wore a glamour that imitated his mother, now two years dead, as a disguise. Now she’d actually started to sound a bit like dear, old Mommy. He moaned loudly as her hand traced down across his chest, past his navel, to flutter erotically around his now erect cock. Her fingers danced provocatively outside the confines of his robe but he quivered as he realized how erotic her touch was even through the robe’s fabric.
“This.” She smirked as she grabbed his testicles through the material of his robe and crushed them in her palm. Hot pain shot into his brain and his breath completely left him. He gasped for air and gibbered in fear as she tugged and squeezed.
“Aaaggh!” he screamed, and tried to pull away from her hurting grasp. But she pulled him by his aching balls closer and bit his lower lip. Her sharp teeth drew blood from the playful nip that ran down his chin to spoil his velvet robe. The stinging cut added insult to injury as she rolled his nuts painfully around in her hand.
“You promised our Master to kill Noah Ravenswood years ago!” She spat his blood back into his face. “But you have yet to fulfill that bargain! Why do you wait?”
“We’re not powerful enough yet,” he gasped in pain, as her scarlet spittle ran down his face. “Don’t you remember our last attempt?”
“Last attempt?” she growled at him. “You mean to tell me that pathetic kidnapping plot you came up with? All we did was tip our hand to the witch! He now knows someone is after him. He’s on guard and that only makes our job harder, you stupid asshole!”
“I have another plan,” he weakly whined as she tightened her grip. “It’s already in motion!”
Agony shot through his body and he slumped against her hot flesh, trying not to fall down and accidentally rip off his precious jewels.
“Do not fail this time,” she demanded in a terrible voice. “I’ve done every degrading and foul sexual act you’ve dreamed up. I’ve instructed you in the Dark Arts, when you aren’t spilling your thin seed into my various openings. I’ve helped you build this pack of losers into a real cult, one that is truly worthy of His name. They kill, maim, steal, and corrupt at your slightest whim.”
“This is t-true,” he gasped.
“Now fulfill your bargain,” she told him as she licked off the blood from his chin. “Kill Ravenswood and I’ll teach you more about Magick and Sex than any mortal has ever known.”
“But fail our Master and I’ll rip off what I have in my hand and stuff them up your ass!”
Cloven shuddered in fear; he knew she wasn’t bluffing.
“Then,” she whispered into his right ear, “I’ll really hurt you…”
Cold shivers of fear spiked throughout his body; she released his balls allowing him to fall to his knees on the floor. He bent over and cradled his aching, bruised testes. His teary eyed vision made the room swim. He wiped away the tears and watched her feet as she walked away. She ascended the stairs to the first floor without another word.
Cloven hated and loved her but he knew he was totally within her power. He tried to stand up but failed. His face was twisted in a mask of pain and anger. But her chilling words quickly cooled the fire of his ire. “I’ve managed to put her off for two years now,” he groaned to himself. “It’s either Ravenswood or me…and quite frankly, I’m rather fond of me.”
He only hoped now Patricia didn’t fail him, like the last time she’d tried to get to Ravenswood.