0 comments/ 17816 views/ 0 favorites Demon Hunter By: Samuelx There are times in life when it really pays to be what I am. Sociopath. Psychopath. Menace. Rogue. I've been called many things. I prefer to think of myself as a Free Spirit. Roger Gerry is the name. I am a police officer in the small town of Drake, Iowa. Just a tall, average-looking Black man trying to make a living. It sucks out here sometimes but hey, it's home. Small towns really aren't what people think. When most people think of a small town, they assume it's a nice, quiet place where everybody knows everybody. A quaint place where everything is just peachy. Well, things aren't like that in Drake. We've got twenty thousand people in this town, along with all kinds of things. And I do mean all kinds of things. The land of Drake has always been a magnet for evil, since before Americans first colonized the land. Demons and other mythical creatures and entities from other worlds come to Drake all the time. Vampires, werewolves and all kinds of other things come here too. That's because there's an inter-dimensional portal right here in town. The last time one of the Lords of Hell came to town, he left me behind. I was part of his demonic retinue. I am a Half-Breed. Half human and half demon. Stronger than any human being on the planet, and also gifted with an accelerated ability to heal. I am also completely incapable of feeling remorse, like all Half-Breeds and Demons. You might wonder why I'm enforcement, especially in a town like this. Well, I had to make a living, didn't I? Also, I was raised by a lawman. Sheriff John Gerry is my adoptive father. He was married to a woman named Madeline Alton Gerry, once. I'm told she was beautiful and quite the nice lady. I never met her. My birth pangs were her death throes. Few women ever survive giving birth to Half-Breeds. Since we're creatures from Hell, we tend to drain our mothers from within, long before we are born. It's simply what we are. Not unlike the Xenomorphic creatures in the Aliens movie series. The Demon who sired me came to town twenty three years ago and took Madeline as his bride. He had assumed the traits of Sheriff John Gerry and seduced his wife. He left her with an heir. The Demon was never named but I know he must be a being of incredible power to have sired something like me. In spite of my being demonic and also indirectly responsible for his wife's death, Sheriff John raised me as his own. And that's the gist of it, I guess. There are others like me out there. Men and women of mixed Demon and human heritage. We can always sense one another. What we can do differ. I've met a man named Randall Hartford a while ago. He was a tall, good-looking, red-haired and gray-eyed Irishman in his early twenties. Like me, he was a lawman. He came from Benton, Iowa. He came to Drake on the trail of a woman named Astrid Joseph. Miss Joseph, a tall and absolutely gorgeous former Beauty Queen from Texas had killed a number of men and women in her day. The media thought she was just your not-so-rare female serial killer. Yes, women can be serial killers too. Unfortunately for them, they were wrong. She was something else entirely. Astrid Joseph was a Half-Breed, like me. She was incredibly strong and fast, gaining strength along with everlasting health and youth whenever she drained the life force of a person. She usually disposed of their bodies through immolation. She had somehow developed Pyro-kinesis, the ability to set things on fire with her mind. Randall and I teamed up to stop Astrid's path of destruction. Astrid had discovered that the life force of other Half-Breeds was more powerful than that of ordinary human beings. So, she came to Drake, a town where many young people were not exactly truly human. It was up to us to stop her. As we hunted her down, Randall and I sort of bonded. He was a really cool guy and we had a lot in common. It was fun to hang out with someone like myself, for a change. I've met many Half-Breeds but those I meet tend to be evil freaks preying upon the humans. Randall was different. He was a lawman, sworn to uphold justice. He was also like me in another regard. You see, Randall was bisexual. I know, it surprised me too. A half-human, half-demon, closeted bisexual African-American police officer in the Iowa countryside. Well, I'll be damned. We had some fun together. Hell, one night, after chasing down some leads about Astrid the She-Demon's whereabouts, we were tired as hell and crashed in my living room. I had invited Randall for some drinks. He accepted. There we were, two police officers sitting on a couch, talking about life. Two superhuman beings whose mothers were long dead and whose fathers were the Crown Princes of Hell. Isn't life funny? I was sitting there, thinking about my existence. I sometimes tried to forget that I was not like the humans. But how do you make yourself forget who you are? I'm a six-foot-two, 230-pound Black man with average looks and a seemingly regular life, but I was far from regular or average. I could lift close to five thousand pounds almost effortlessly. Add to that the fact that it takes an awful lot to hurt me. Bullets and knives can't do the trick. Neither can flames or blades and anything else that I can think of. However, I am vulnerable to silver. The only time I've been hurt is when a rather angry old Catholic priest attacked me with a silver Crucifix. Some Catholic priests are trained in dealing with demons. The man thought I was a demon. Whatever the case, when he thrust the silver Crucifix into my chest, I was not only hurt, I almost died. If my father hadn't pulled the silver Crucifix out of me, I would have died. Could you imagine this? Being gifted with superhuman strength, enhanced senses and near invulnerability and discovering that while you may have taken down demons and monsters, a pathetic geezer with a silver Crucifix could kill you. Yeah, it shocked me too. I healed really fast afterwards, though. I now know to avoid Crucifixes. I also discovered that Holy Water has on me the same effect burning acid has on normal humans. Just call it a downside of having mixed human and demonic heritage. On the plus side, I got ran over by a psychopath driving a Mack Truck once and didn't have a scratch on me. Anyway, where were we? Oh, yeah. I was telling you about Randall and me. We started to get really personal. He told me that back home, there was a woman he was dating seriously. He showed me her picture. Nicole Shavers. A tall, sexy, blue-eyed blonde bombshell who looked like a centerfold. Man, this dude really got around. He told me all about her. Nicole Shavers was a corrections officer in the town where he lived. Her father was the town's district attorney. Her mother was one of the district court judges. She came from a law enforcement family. I smiled. That sounds like fun. Randall shocked the hell out of me when he told me what he did. Apparently, he told her about himself. I looked at him, surprised. Did he really tell his girlfriend that he was half demon and half human He smiled and shook his head. He told his girlfriend he was bisexual. Apparently, she was okay with it. He wasn't sure how she would handle his demonic heritage, if and when he decided to tell her about it. I looked at him, amazed. Man, this dude really knew how to live. Randall looked at me and grinned. I clapped his shoulder, and congratulated him on being the most ballsy man I knew. He grinned, and grabbed my shoulders. Then, he kissed me. I was a bit surprised by this gesture, to tell you the truth. However, I kissed him back. Growing up, I've always felt attracted to both men and women. Yes, I am bisexual. In uptight, all-White Drake, Iowa, it's usually a good idea to keep the fact that you are different to yourself. However, this was different. Randall wasn't a mundane, like I called ordinary humans. He was kindred, someone like me. I could be myself around him. Right then, I realized that I wanted him, as much as he wanted me. Randall kissed me, and slowly we undressed one another. I climbed on top of him, eager to feel him. I hadn't been with anyone in ages. Especially a sexy black man like Randall. He kissed me and pulled me into his arms. I felt his hard, manly body underneath me. I also felt his hard cock. He reached and began stroking my dick. His expert hands got me hard in no time. I told him I wanted to suck him. And so I did. I bent down and began sucking on his long and thick cock. He grinned and stroked my hair as I sucked his cock. He tasted different from any other man I've been with. Saltier and decidedly better. I continued to pleasure him until he finally gave it up and came. When he did, I drank his seed. Tasted the first droplets of his manly essence, his whole being. I liked it. Afterwards, he couldn't get enough of me. Before I knew, he had me on all fours and took me from behind. I stroked myself as he began fucking me, hard and fast. I felt his hard cock in my ass and although it hurt, it also felt kind of good. He held me by the hips and fucked me like there was no tomorrow. We fucked and sucked the night away. When dawn came, it found us lying naked on my carpeted living room floor. Our bodily fluids were all over the place, evidence of wanton and absolutely masculine passion gone without restraint. When I first looked at Randall after our night of passion, he looked at me fondly. I was glad. I've been with a lot of men and a few women. Most times, after I've sexed them up, they don't want to chit chat or hang around once they've gotten off. Randall wasn't like that. Hell, we showered together and I made him breakfast. Then, we went out for a drive on the town. We still had a rampaging female demon to catch and demonically mutated townspeople to protect. For the first time, I felt okay. I mean, I know that Randall will leave town and that I will go back to my old life. What we had was a fun time, and we were amicable about it, that's all. But this taught me something. Maybe I shouldn't be looking for companionship among the humans. Maybe my fellow demonically enhanced superhuman brethren were all that I needed. I took comfort in that. It gave me something to live for. Demon Hunters The lost girl felt stirrings within the Dream. They were coming now. The Three. Malcolm Gerstein turned the ghostmobile into the driveway of the abandoned cider mill, stealing one last glimpse of Persephone's ample cleavage in the rearview mirror, before setting the parking breaks on the van. For her part, Persephone Orisha continued to stare at the blond curls cascading down the nape of Dante Hades' neck, if that even was his real name. She was beginning to doubt it. He was so neat though. She would never regret taking an internship with the Exploration Channel's Demon Hunters show as part of her senior independent study at Vassar. If she hadn't, she would never have met Dante. The show wasn't even carried on basic cable - it was on like channel 413 or something like that, but that didn't matter. She was in love with Dante, even if she was too shy to make a move on him. She knew he at least noticed her (and what heterosexual man didn't?). She saw it in his stolen glances, his subtle return of her smiles. Dante opened the passenger door of the van and stepped out onto the moss-devoured tarmac. He beheld the ancient vine-covered stone building before him. So this was the fabled Innsbruck Cider Mill, opened in 1873, abandoned forever in 1917. The edifice that probably caused the suicide of one prominent early psychical researcher (Edmund Gurney) in 1888, and drove another mad for a period of several months (that being one James Hyslop, the founder of the American Society for Psychical Research). Well, ghosts weren't so tough anymore. In fact, they never seemed to show up at all these days, something that wasn't helping the ratings of Demon Hunters or Dante's prospects for ever finding a real job. He walked around to the back of the van to help Malcolm unload the equipment. He handed Malcolm the digital camera. He prayed that Malcolm would put his thumb over the lens again, the way he had back in Amityville. They needed a couple of unexplained luminous orbs on this shoot, needed them badly after the most recent fiasco in Alabama. "What's this?" he asked Malcolm, after picking up an unfamiliar piece of equipment. "You like that/" Malcolm replied. "That's an old E-Meter. I ordered it from the Scientology website because it has all these cool knobs and dials. It's supposed to tell you if you are an operating thetan, which is like a perfect spiritual being or something like that. Look, it comes with this totally rad three-pen chart recorder, which makes a lot of scratchy noises and beeps and stuff. I figure we can easily shoot ten minutes of this thing beeping and scratching. The fans are gonna love it." "And its scientific validity?" "Dude, you have to be kidding me!" Dante rolled his eyes and asked, "OK, what else do we have." "The usual, infrared goggles, spot cameras, recording equipment, one outmoded magnetometer, two thermistors, and one standard-issue Schmidt random event generator," said Malcolm, pushing his nerd glasses back up his nose. "Oh, and I brought this, in case the action gets slow." He showed Dante an unopened Hasbro glow-in-the-dark Ouija board, fresh from amazon.com. "I sure as hell hope it doesn't get that slow," Dante muttered as he watched Malcolm attempt to haul the TV camera out of the bed of the van, his beer gut bouncing with each strain of his "muscles." "Here, forget that – just set up the tripod," Dante said, as he took the camera from Malcolm's sweaty paws. The dark spirit floating in the Dream-ether of the mill would also have rolled her eyes, if she had any. These guys were even bigger imbeciles than that crew back in 1976. Oh well, flesh was flesh, and she hadn't worn a human body in quite some time. She could almost taste the delights that were in store for her. Dante gave Persephone a wink and signaled to Malcolm to begin rolling the camera. He raised his hand mike and began the introductory spiel. "This is your intrepid ghostbuster Dante Hades. Welcome to Demon Hunters. I am standing before the infamous old Innsbruck Cider Mill in Avon, Connecticut. The windows you see before you have been boarded up and shuttered since 1917, when the mill was abruptly shut down and abandoned forever, allegedly due to paranormal activity." Malcolm panned the camera across the stone edifice, zooming on rotting boards, then following the creek that ran behind mill, which was barely visible because it was overgrown with swamp grass and cattails. Then he slowly panned back to Dante, carefully framing the picture to ensure that his pecs and biceps, so prominent beneath his black Demon Hunters tee shirt, would be clearly visible to the female audience (and possibly the gay male audience as well, although the consultants they had hired on the cheap did not provide much in the way of a demographic breakdown when it came to sexual orientation). Just to make sure his bases were covered, he zoomed out a little bit to show the bulge of Dante's package and his large quadriceps muscles. To boost their ratings up above zero and avoid cancellation, they might have to resort to shooting a sweat lodge ceremony with both Dante's and Persephone's buck-naked moist bodies fully exposed, Malcolm thought. He would have to raise that idea at the next production meeting. Of course to avoid a ratings killer, Malcolm's body would remain where it belonged, behind the camera. Malcolm suddenly become aware that in his digression, he had subconsciously swept the camera to focus on Persephone's humongous breasts, which were even at that very moment valiantly struggling to set themselves free from her halter top. To appear purposeful, he lingered there for only a second, then panned up to focus on her deep dark eyes, her dimples and her lustrous long black hair. This intern thing was definitely working out he thought, licking his lips. The ratings would definitely turn northward if he kept taking shots like this. Reluctantly, he turned the camera once again in Dante's direction. "As already mentioned, this old mill is famous in the annals of psychical research for causing the suicide of one prominent early investigator into the paranormal and causing another to lapse into madness for months after he spent just one night here," Dante continued. "In the 1930s, a group of college kids camping out in the mill mysteriously disappeared, never to be seen again, and three decades later a man and a woman seemingly engaged in a romantic tryst were found floating in the creek in back of me. Many others have died here. "Many of the visitors to the mill report catching a brief glimpse of a young woman in nineteenth century garb, who disappears when you look directly at her. Often these visitors report that they were in the process of falling asleep just prior to the vision. "Legend has it that the ghost is the spirit of Mary Thompson, a young mill worker who one night 1876 offered her favors to the entire mill crew, taunting each man as he finished. Mary Thompson was beaten to death for her troubles, and her body was never found. As a result, her spirit lives on in this place, a hungry ghost seeking justice, or more likely vengeance." Demon-Mary rose from the Dream, called forth by the sound of her name. She would extract her vengeance again tonight. She felt the darkness within her rising, her will gathering its strength for the coming ordeal. After several hours of playing with the ouija board while wearing infrared goggles and using the E-meter to test each other's spiritual achievements, our scantily clad intrepid investigators turned in early, early being around 2 AM for them. To Malcolm and Persephone's consternation, each slept alone, in order to cover the entire building in case anything began to happen. They all dreamed. This was moment the demon had been waiting for. Now she could wear their flesh, defile it and drive them mad. Not to mention eating the rest of Persephone's Big Mac. It had been fourteen years since she had last known the ecstasies of fast food. She slipped into the dream of the fat one. He was busily fucking Persephone in the ass and did not notice her as she stood behind him. How easy it would be to take him now, but the idea of wearing his jiggling flesh truly repulsed her. She would rather ride the body of one of pigs that lived down the lane. No, she would wet-dream the girl instead. She slithered out of Malcolm's disgusting dream and floated across the Dreamscape until she found the girl's dream. Predictably enough, she was still getting fucked in the ass. But this time it was Dante who was doing the honors. These mortals would never learn the truth. There is but one Dream and we each wear different masks within it. Demon-Mary tapped Dante's shoulder, as if she were cutting in on him in a waltz. He disappeared into a mist of droplets, and she now had the girl all to herself. She softly slid up and down Persephone's naked back, her erect nipples tracing lightly over the girl's soft young skin. She kept up the fucking movement, even though she was missing a vital part. Persephone didn't seem to mind, as Mary began to lick the swan-like nape of her neck, moving her wet cunt up and down the small of Persephone's back. Her tongue meandered forward to Persephone's earlobe, which the ghost began to lick furiously, sucking it, letting her tongue role around inside the folds of her ear, then back to her earlobe as she continued to slide her wet crotch up and down Persephone's back. She reached out with her hand and interlaced her fingers with Persephone's fingers and moved her tongue softly to her beautiful dark eyes, tracing the contours of her eyelids before turning Persephone's head to the side to grant her tongue access to Persephone's mouth, then swirling her tongue around Persephone's sensually full lips. She gently urged Persephone's mouth to open and then Persephone's now eager tongue met her own, sliding over it to slither into the dark spirit's own mouth, running its way along her teeth, fiercely exploring the wet inner linings of her cheeks. The girl turned and wrapped her arms around her, pulling her tightly against her as her tongue continued to dart in and out of her mouth. She felt Persephone's hand reaching down to cover her mound, her fingers teasing her clitoris, dancing circles around it so that her astral body was writhing in denied ecstasy until Persephone plunged three fingers into her dripping cunt and began to fuck it in earnest, as she continued to probe the demon's mouth with her frantic tongue. Dream-Persephone rolled their bodies over so that her naked body covered the demon's own, warming the lost girl's cold body with her own living heat. She moved her tongue from the demon's mouth and slid it over her chin and down the demon's exposed and vulnerable neck. She licked her way down the demon's body, stopping to suck and tease each of the demon's hard nipples, bringing them to pleasure and releasing them over and over again. She spread her hand to knead both of the demon's sizable breasts, squeezing them tightly and hard, as she continued her oral odyssey down the lost girl's body. Persephone's soft hair spilled upon the demon's naked torso as she licked her way down to her mons veneris.The demon arched her body, grinding it against Persephone's mouth. "Eat me," she whispered. "Eat me." Persephone was only too happy to oblige, her mouth engulfing the demon's clit, her tongue lapping it with renewed violence. She nipped it with her lips, pulling it up and then releasing it over and over again, until the demon's moans of denied pleasure filled the Dreamscape. When the demon's frenzy was at its peak, Persephone denied her no longer and opened her with her tongue, her lips pressed against the moist lips of the Mary's vagina, her tongue probing deeply, moving faster and faster in a fucking motion as her fingers continued to rub and tease her clit. She reached out with her other hand, tracing the crack of the demon's ass as her tongue swirled around her nether lips. She plunged her tongue deeply into the demon's cunt, and Demon-Mary arched her back, her hands coming down to force Persephone's face tightly against her cunt as she cried out in her final throes and turned herself into the Devil's rain, a cloud of acid vapor that poured itself into Persephone's mouth, burning its way down her esophagus and into the very core of her being. Demon-Mary reveled in the sensation of true flesh surrounding her as she rose from the mattress. She could feel the girl waking, futilely struggling to regain control of her physical body. It belonged to Mary now. She began to strip the clothes from the wench's luscious body. The next two tasks required that she be sky-clad. Persephone hoped that she was not awake. She watched her arms as they stripped her body. She tried to regain control, but to no avail. The demon was in her every thought, her body obeying only the demon's bidding as the foul spirit rode her like a horse. She could feel the taste of death inside her. Demon-Mary ran her hands up and down Persephone's naked flesh, which she now owned. The pleasure was so much more intense than dream pleasure. She circled her fingers around Persephone's areolas, the crowns of her magnificent breasts. The pleasure was indescribable. She ran her right hand down Persephone's taut tummy and plunged her fingers into Persephone's still-dripping cunt. The pleasure of actual flesh was so intense that she cried out softly as she plunged her whole hand into Persephone's cunt, moving it in and out violently. She longed for more. Over a century as pure spirit was far too long a time. Oh well, she had a job to do. Two actually. The first less pleasant than the second, but necessary nonetheless. She had no desire to ride Malcolm's flesh. She would take him in the waking state. She saw the items she needed in the supply room and went to get them. No more psychokinesis for her. She could simply pick them up this time. Malcolm Gerstein awoke with a start as he felt his balls being seized. He looked down to see, incredibly enough, a naked Persephone Orisha cupping his balls through his denim pants. She squeezed them and rubbed them with her right hand as her left traveled up to his already swollen cock, which she began stroke up and down, all the time maintaining her grip on his balls, which she continued to squeeze and press as though they were a tube of toothpaste and she was trying to force the drop of jism out of them. To increase the analogy, she began to run those luscious full lips along the length of his throbbing shaft as she began to unzip him, taking him eagerly in her mouth when his cock sprang free. He must be dreaming Malcolm thought, but he knew all too well that he was awake. Persephone's mouth relinquished his cock temporarily to say, "I see you looking at me. I know what you want. I have always wanted it too. But I have to feel safe. Will you obey my every command?" Malcolm nodded enthusiastically. "Strip," she said. Malcolm quickly complied. "Now put this around your neck," she said, handing him the noose. Malcolm complied, and she quickly drew the noose tight, barely permitting Malcolm to breathe. Then she straddled the rope and lay down in the prone position, pulling Malcolm's head against her buttocks. "Lick me. Up and down my crack," she commanded. Malcolm took one of her firm buttocks in each of his hands, then jammed his tongue deeply into her ass and began to move his head up and down the length of her crack, from the dimple at the top to the dripping cunt below, on each pass stopping to run his tongue around the bud of her anus, flicking it in and out of her asshole as she pulled him firmly against her with the rope. He flattened his tongue against her crack and ran it up and down its length as hard and as fast as he could, then plunged it deeply into her anus as he felt her body tauten, push back hard against his tongue, impaling it deeper. Then she softly cried out, and her whole body shuddered in orgasm. He though he could hear her weeping softly. "It has been so long," she whispered. "I had forgotten what its feels like to know true pleasure." Malcolm's head, which had been resting softly on Persephone's ass, was suddenly yanked down to her cunt, as Persephone's ass rose quickly and his mouth was forced mercilessly against her nether lips. He began to lap them like a hungry wolf and Mary / Persephone yanked on the rope tightly so that his face was buried in her crotch. "Eat me like a dog," she commanded. He reached around with his hand and fingered her clit, circling it, teasing it, then rubbing it violently as he thrust his tongue in and out of her vagina, slurping its walls as he continued to massage her clit. Demon Mary shuddered as she came, the organism ricocheting through her body, sending waves of pleasure to every corner of the luscious body she rode. She released the rope and lifted her ass and told him, "Now shove that cock into me. It's what you've been longing to do, right? Shove it all the way in. But you are not allowed to come yet. I'll tell you when it is time, and we will come together. I have a special treat in store for you." Malcolm stood and shoved his throbbing cock as hard as he could into Persephone's dripping cunt. She shuddered in response. He pulled most of the way out and then violently shoved it in again, up to the hilt. He began to fuck her in earnest, with Persephone's ass matching his every thrust, increasing the pleasure exponentially. Her hand reached under to seize his balls, which she began to squeeze and rotate as he continued to pump into her. "Grab my tits," she told him, and he reached under her to take those magnificent globes in his hands, squeezing and flattening them and using them as reins as he continued to thrust his cock violently in and our of her cunt. "Now lick my back," she commanded, and he lowered his mouth to her naked spine and licked her delectable young skin up and down as he continued to squeeze her tits and pound his shaft in and out of her. He did not know how he was going to refrain from coming. He could fell her tunnel walls beginning to contract around his cock and he shoved it in up to the hilt, feeling her whole body tremble and shake as she came over and over again. Then she collapsed against the mattress, with Malcolm's naked body covering her. They rested that way for a while, Malcolm's flesh pressed against her lovely back, his hands beneath her, still caressing her tits, teasing her nipples. After she had time to catch her breath, demon-Mary whispered, "It is time for that special treat I was telling you about. Stand up and don't move." Malcolm complied, standing at attention with his arms at his side. Mary / Penelope walked behind him and took something off the table. "Do not turn around," she told him as she came up behind him. "Now put your arms behind you. We are going to play a little game. You like games, don't you Malcolm?" She took his hand, placing them behind his back as she bound them with electrical cable. "Now the real fun begins," she whispered. "I am going to give you the blow job of your life. A blow job to die for. Now just stand on the chair, so that I can have easy access to that beautiful cock and those luscious balls of yours. I hate kneeling." Malcolm climbed up on the chair. She tightened the noose around his neck and threw the rope up over the pipe. She pulled on it until it was taut, straining Malcolm's neck so that he was forced to stand on his tiptoes. She then tightly wrapped it around the cleat in the wall. "What's this?" Malcolm asked, trembling. "I'm sure you have heard of autoerotic asphyxiation," Mary said. "This is going to be even better. This is going to be heteroerotic asphyxiation. Much more fun." Demon Hunters "But isn't that what killed David Carradine?" Malcolm asked." "Don't worry, silly. David Carradine was 72 years old. You are much younger. Plus, if this little trick allowed our Kung Fu friend to get off at the age of 72, just imagine what it is going to do for you." Demon-Mary took Malcolm's shaft in her hand and began running her lips up and down its length, teasing it with her flickering tongue. She cupped his balls in her hand, and squeezed and released them as she continued to run her talented mouth up and down his shaft, then around and around its sensitive hood. When she could feel his trembling and knew he was ready, she engulfed his prick with her mouth, running it along the inner linings of her cheeks, licking it with her tongue, then curling that tongue around his cock as she began to bob her head quickly up and down on his shaft, teasing his anus with one hand and squeezing his balls with the other until she could sense his trembling, could feel the orgasm rising from the very center of his being as she brutally squeezed his aching balls, violently impaled her mouth on his cock, shoved her finger all the way up his ass, and kicked the chair out from underneath him. He came in a torrent in her mouth, wave after wave of jism pouring down Persephone's throat, his aching balls leaping in her hand as they poured their contents into her mouth in what surely was the biggest explosion since the Big Bang. The demon watched Malcolm's now lifeless body as it swung like a pendulum from the pipe. One down and one to go, she thought. Persephone began to struggle against the demon's will as her body began to sashay down the corridor in the direction of the mill room, where Dante lay sleeping on the portable mattress on the floor. She knew what the demon intended to do and there seemed to be no way to stop her. Demon-Mary saw what she was looking for: our intrepid investigator and star of tonight's show, Mr. Dante Hades, famous ghostbuster and fearless investigator of the paranormal and soon to be her willing puppet. She would wear male flesh at last and see if its pleasures were all that they were cracked up to be. Most men that she had ever met were led around by their 'nads. Literally. She would soon become the most famous ghost of all, the spirit who took permanent possession of cable TV's foremost investigator of all things preternatural. Persephone's heart, tucked away in the deep recesses of the demon's mind, leapt at the sight of Dante's body. The smooth skin of his muscular chest, rising with each breath, almost glowed in the moonlight. She had always dreamed of this moment, but not like this. Not with her body ridden by a fiend and bent on the destruction of the only man she loved. Dante stirred as Mary / Persephone lay down next to him. Mustn't wake him, the demon thought. She could only take him in the Dream, where all rules and natural laws were suspended. She traced the smooth flesh of his chest, feeling his hardness, gently tracing Persephone's fingertip around his nipple, then cupping his pecs, and running her fingers up and down his hard chest. She lay close to him, pressing her lips against his exposed neck, flicking her tongue out and licking that neck from top to bottom, then, traveling up to his ear, taking his earlobe gently into her mouth, tugging gently on it as her hand traveled down Dante's abs and entered his shorts. He was already rock hard from the dream state and began to stir. She gently grabbed his cock and slowly began squeezing it and then releasing it in a continuous cycle, then traced her way down its eight-inch length with her fingertips. She needed that cock embedded in her flesh, not her dream body. She reached down to cup Dante's balls as she continued to glide her fingertips up and down his shaft, lightly tracing each vein, teasing the hood, running her fingers around the tip and feeling the attar of his precum as she brought her hand to her mouth to taste it. Dante began to stir and she grabbed his cock tightly, as if it were a powerful talisman that she did not want to lose. She wanted to feel that cock in real flesh, not in the Dream, which was only a pale shadow of Reality. Then, as soon as she was done, she would ride Dante's body and feel the ecstasy that male organ was capable of bestowing on its owner. She would fuck Persephone's chained naked body over and over, showing no mercy as she pummeled it savagely with Dante's magnificent organ, watching the slut's tears as they fell upon the stone ground of the mill, hearing her sobs as she knew that there would be no release, that no savior would come for her. Dante's eyes popped open as she squeezed his cock a might too hard in her reveries. He saw Persephone's beautiful dark eyes returning his stare, but they seemed somehow strangely cold, frozen. Her soft luxurious hair spilled onto his naked chest, feeling like the touch of a feather broom. He smiled at her and pulled her naked torso down to his. At last. He had been waiting for this moment, fantasizing about it every since she joined the team six months ago. He reached out to her swanlike neck and pulled her closer to his face. She kissed him softly at first, then teased his lips apart with her tongue, then ran that tongue along the inner walls of his cheeks, over his teeth, then over Dante's tongue. She increased the pressure on his cock, squeezing it with her right hand even as her lips and tongue traced their way over his ear and down his neck, then down his arching torso to engulf his magnificent cock. She began to bob Persephone's mouth up and down Dante's organ as he strained upward to meet her oral cunt. Demon Mary then began to ram Persephone's mouth down on Dante's shaft, and Persephone (but not the demon) felt the pain each time it crashed again into the back of her throat. She squeezed his balls hard, as she lifted her mouth from him. "I want you to fuck me like a dog., like the slut bitch I am. I want you to pound me wide open, split me in half so that I can't walk for a month. Use me in ways this poor worthless cunt has never imagined. Give me what I deserve." Dante was somewhat taken aback by Persephone's sudden zest for all things bestial. But never one to look a gift horse in the mouth, Dante obliged by mounting her proffered ass. This was not the way he had imagined their first act of copulation, but Persephone evidently had unplumbed depths that he had never suspected. He was only too glad to plumb them. He shoved his cock in her slowly, moving it almost tenderly as first as he reached out to grab her fabled breasts, licking his way up her bare back as her rammed his cock into her harder and harder, a sweat breaking out in his brow as he pounded her and pounded her. She reached back and squeezed his balls mercilessly, and he shoved his shaft up to the hilt and his balls jumped in her viselike grip and poured their contents into her eagerly waiting womb in a torrent. That's when he saw Malcolm, standing by the door, looking as pale as Jacob Marley's ghost, with blackened eyes and bruises around his neck, which still sported the noose that had released him from this world. Dante bestowed upon Malcolm's shade their standard greeting. "What up?" "That bitch Kung-Fued me." "That's nasty, dude. But it really doesn't sound like her," Dante said to the hallucination before him. If spending fifteen years working as a professional ghostbuster had taught Dante one lesson, it was this: there ain't no such thing as ghosts. They sure did help pay the bills, though. Ergo, the Malcolm thing was not real. Dante was dreaming. Right then demon Persephone turned her head back to confront Dante. It was black, like an insect's head, with one side charred and sporting an eyeball hanging from an empty socket. He saw a second Persephone clinging like a wallflower to the stone wall behind her. "I ate her, in a dream," the second Persephone said. "She poured herself into me, and now she has my body. I'm in there, floating, but I can't do anything." Well, all kinds of strange shit happens in dreams, Malcolm thought. So he Heimliched the demon-Persephone, still impaled on his cock. A foul-smelling sulphuric haze streamed out of her mouth and began to condense on the floor. It rose up, assuming the form of a naked girl (and a pretty fine one at that when you considered her zombie status and personal history). Dante felt someone shaking him violently. It was Persephone, a real and delightfully naked Persephone with no signs of lingering possession. "Dante, you have to wake up," she said. She can only get you when you are asleep. Dante grunted as he rose. He looked around for Malcolm and the demon. He saw nothing but empty space. "Malcolm?" he asked Persephone. "No," she said pointing at the swinging corpse in the next room. "We have to leave. Now." So that much was true. Persephone gathered her clothes as he tugged on his own. They ran for the door. Dante took one look back at the swinging corpse of Malcolm Gerstein. They were going to have some 'splaining to do. The lost girl floated in the Dream as she heard the van retreating into the distance. Just as before, she would wait alone, through the centuries if necessary, until she could once again find a place in the sun. Well maybe not exactly alone. She looked over at Malcolm's naked body, chained spread-eagled on the dream bed. He seemed to be actually enjoying this. A lot. They both grinned as she floated over to join him.