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Introduction:

The Ghost enjoys a day at the park with a few hotties.
The Devil's Pact, The Ghost of Paris
by mypenname3000
edited by Master Ken
Copyright 2014

Chapter Twelve: Afternoon At the Park

Notes: Credit goes to PeacelovingXXX for the story behind this chapter.

Saturday, September 28th, 2013 – Paris, Texas

It was a warm, late September day as I strolled down the street towards Daniel Boone Park. A perfect, high-seventies day, with a gentle breeze keeping you cool. The girls were out in skimpy shorts and light tops, and my pecker was at full mast.

A couple rollerbladed by; the woman had a long, dark ponytail and shorts so tight she may as well have been naked. I wanted to grab her, take her behind some bushes, and just have my way with the sweet, young thing, but she passed me in a blur before I could react.

The cement was rough on my feet, but nearly a month of walking around naked had toughened my soles. The sun was warm but, thanks to my Pact, I didn't need to worry about sunburns while I was invisible. Hell, I didn't need to worry about any form of exposure. I could run naked through a blizzard, and so long as I was invisible it'd be just a pleasant stroll. Well, it'd probably be windy as all fuck, but I wouldn't freeze to death.

Daniel Boone Park was a flat expanse of grass dotted with bushes, and tall oak trees, their broad limbs providing plenty of shade. A small, man-made lake dominated the center and a few people fished it. Several paths circled the park, filled with joggers, walkers, bicyclists, and skaters. Others sat at picnic tables or on blankets on the ground, and more than a few girls were out in their bikinis sunbathing. There were two bathrooms that anchored either end of the park.

I surveyed the scene, a lion seeking out which gazelle on the Serengeti, or whatever the fuck those plains in Africa were called, was vulnerable. And there were a lot of mighty fine looking gazelles! Tall, petite, big tits and small. Some had great asses, others had legs that any coonhound would love to hump. Bronze, pale, or ebony skinned—they all made my pecker want to howl.

I spotted a familiar face. Ruth Annabeth Ahlers. The second girl I had fucked after becoming the Ghost. I had fucked her on her porch, and made the sweet, young thing show her treats off to a couple of boys. They had plastered her lovelies all across the internet. She sat on a bench, leaning back, wearing a tartan skirt, this time pink-and-black and far shorter, and a tight, pink halter top. She had a large smile and her brown doe-eyes twinkled with mischief. A pair of boys were watching her, and she toyed with her black hair in a long, plaited braid.

She spread her legs.

The boys all nudged each other, laughing and staring at her. I moved, waiting to get a look at her panties. I loved looking up a girl's skirt, and seeing what intimate surprises they might be wearing. Whether plain, old, boring, white panties or exciting thongs or sensuous French cuts or lacy or any of the hundreds of styles.

Ruth had a surprise for me; her juicy cooch was bare for all the world to see, dewy with her excitement. What a little, exhibitionist slut. Then she closed her legs, and sat all prim and proper. A pair of girls joined the boys, and they wandered off, though the boys kept looking back at Ruth.

I sat down carefully on the bench—I don't take chances now, too many splinters in the ass—and put my arm around Ruth, pulling her against me. “Miss me, sweetness?”

She stiffened, and groaned. “No! You turned me into a freak!”

“I saw the display. Your cooch looks as delicious as I remember.” I put my hand on her thigh, sliding up her skirt.

“I can't help myself!” she complained. “I was a fine, normal girl, and then you fucked me in front of them boys, and now it's all I can think about! Look at me, I'm flashin' myself like some pervy guy!”

My fingers slid deeper, rubbing through the groove of her pussy. She shuddered, her knees relaxing. Anyone who looked could see right up her skirt. I spread her cunt open, slipping three fingers inside the slut.

“At any second, someone's going to look,” I whispered in her ear.

“Oh, Lords yes!” she groaned, her pussy contracting on my fingers.

“You want that, don't you, slut?”

“Lord help me! I do! I want everyone to see my juicy pussy!” She groaned and her hips wiggled. “It makes me so wet.”

I pumped faster; her knees shot up, then her legs spread even wider, like she was trying to do the splits on the bench. Her head threw back, and she let out a low, wordless moan. A spasm passed through her; a piercing gasp, then juices flooded my fingers, the little slut cumming hard.

“I got to fuck you, sweetness,” I groaned.

“Right here?” she groaned.

“Abso-damn-fuckin'-lutely!”

“Oh, Lord! Do it!” Her hand found my throbbing pecker. “Fuck me! Let every fuckin' guy here see my juicy cunt cummin' 'round your cock, Ghost!”

I pulled her ass to the edge of the bench, and spread her legs wide open. Her cooch's lips spread open, showing her pink sweetness. Her clit was hard, set below a landing strip of black hair. I reached out, stroking her sensitive nub, and enjoyed her coos.

“Someone's watchin',” she whispered. “Fuck me! Please! I want him to see me bein' freaky!”

“Then show him your titties, sweetness. Let him see just how freaky you are.”

“Oh, Lord yes!” she hissed.

Her hands grasped the hem of her halter top. She licked her lips, took a deep breath, then Ruth yanked her top up. Her tits were round, full, and topped with hard, pink nipples. She licked her lips at her voyeur right through my invisible body, and pinched a pink nipple.

Her pink cooch called to me. I buried my pecker into her tight warmth. She gasped, arching her back, shuddering. Her hole spasmed about my cock; her wonderful tits jiggled as her cum quaked through her.

I fucked her with hard, deep thrusts, grunting “What a dirty, exhibitionist slut! Cummin' like a two dollar whore the moment my pecker shoved into your cunt!”

“Yes!” she gasped, arching against me. “I'm a whore! Watch me!”

“Holy shit!” the voyeur gasped.

“Oh, yes! Film me!” Ruth came a second time on my pecker, bucking on the bench. “Upload this on the internet! Let everyone see me!”

I wasn't going to last long in her constantly spasming pussy. She moaned and gasped, playing with her nipples. Her legs were still splayed wide, letting her voyeur see her cunt gaping open as my pecker reamed her over and over. The bench rocked and creaked as I fucked the slut harder and faster.

“Dirty whore!” I hissed into her ear. “When I cum in your cooch, I want you to take that voyeur over to them bushes, get on your knees like a bitch, and let him pound your cunt while I watch.”

She pinched her nipple, cooch spasming on my pecker, and groaned, “Yes!”

My body tensed, my cum building. I buried into her cooch, her sheath milking my pecker. I erupted into her juicy cunt, grunting loudly. I gasped and relaxed; finally satiated. I pulled out, flopped onto the bench next to her.

Her voyeur was a pudgy young man, pointing his cell phone at her. She stood up on wobbly legs, and walked towards him. She grabbed the voyeur's hand, sweat breaking out on the man's forehead, and led him over to the bushes. Like a good slut, she got on her knees. It's where all women belonged, on their knees, ready to please some man.

“Shit!” the pudgy voyeur grunted.

“Hurry up and fuck me!” Ruth moaned.

“Shit!” Did the fat fucker know any more words?

He dropped to his knees behind her, shoved his shorts down, and buried into her cooch. He fucked her hard, making her hanging tits sway back and forth. Ruth grunted, smiled at me, and fucked her hips back into the fat guy.

“Shit! Shit! Shit!”

“Oh, my god!” sneered a woman.

Two hot girls, eighteen or nineteen, and a beefy guy stood nearby, watching Ruth. The girls had looks of disgust on their faces, but the guy grinned. One of the girls—a tan brunette, the tips of her curly hair bleached; something red glinted on her nose, a piercing of some sort—nudged the guy.

“You're supposed to be gettin' us food, Nate,” the brunette said. “Not pervin' on some hobag.”

“Sorry, Cheryl-Lynn.”

The brunette hooked her arm through the other girl's, a sandy blonde with slim hips and small tits that her tube top showed off quite nicely. The blonde girl looked like Nate's sister: they had the same hair color and their faces had a similar shape. The brunette led the blonde towards the restrooms. They both wore tight, and very skimpy, shorts that hugged their asses. My pecker rose, and I followed after the girls.

“God, what a slut,” the blonde giggled. “I can't believe Ruth would do that.”

“And that guy she was fuckin'...” Cheryl-Lynn gave a shudder. “She's turned into a complete hobag, Tammy. Just like the mayor's daughter.”

Tammy let out a wicked giggle. “I heard she fucked every guy at the Cowgirl Salon.”

I was just a foot behind the two chatting sluts, their tight asses wiggling in their short shorts. Cheryl-Lynn's were purple, thin, and dug into her ass crack and molded to her beautiful cheeks. Tammy's were a pair of jean shorts, cut so high the bottom of her asscheeks peaked out. I reached out, and goosed her firm rear.

She jumped, looking around, and rubbing herself.

“What?” Cheryl-Lynn asked.

“Nothin,” Tammy muttered. “Just a bug bit my ass.”

“Ahh, do you want me to kiss it better.” Cheryl-Lynn pursed her lips at her friend.

“Eww. Stay away. I'm not lettin' you go dyke on me.”

Cheryl-Lynn threw her arms in the air. “But your beauty has captivated me. I'm only datin' your brother to get close to you!”

“Bitch,” laughed Tammy. “Then why was you squealin' like a pig last night in my brother's bedroom. Sound like you loved it.”

“Busted,” she laughed. “Come on, I gotta pee.”

“You had me worried. You was sounded like Marybeth.”

Cheryl-Lynn shrugged. “She ain't bad.”

Tammy gaped at her. “Oh, you slut! You've let Marybeth get her dirty, little mouth on you.”

The brunette grinned, twirling a lock of her frost-tipped hair. “That cheerleader can be very persistent.”

“That's disgustin'!”

“Oh, don't be gettin' your panties in a bunch. It was just some lezzie fun. No harm.”

The girls reached the restroom, pushing through the door. I glanced back and could barely see Ruth getting plowed in the bushes. Maybe I should swing by her house tonight, and give that girl another tumble. Crying shame her ma's a fat pig.

I followed the girls in. Tammy glanced back, blue eyes squinting as she eyed the door, then entered the stall next to Cheryl-Lynn. Liquid splashed, echoing in the bathroom, and Cheryl-Lynn moaned in relief. I twisted the deadbolt, locking the door.

“Damn, that feels good!” she sighed.

A second splash joined hers as I moved to Tammy's stall. It had one of those safety locks that you could open from the outside with a screwdriver, or a very long fingernail. I popped the lock, the door swinging open.

“What in tarnation,” muttered Tammy. “The damn doors don't work in this place.”

“Yeah,” Cheryl-Lynn muttered. “Oh, wow. You need to get on twitter. They're sayin' the army attacked Tacoma.”

“Tacoma?” the brunette asked, reaching to close the stall door. “That in Afghan'stan?”

I forced my way in. She gasped, my hands grabbing her blonde curls, then I shoved my pecker into her mouth. She coughed and gagged as I fucked her face. She struggled for a moment, then my Pact kicked in, and she started sucking.

“Naw. It's up in Washington State.”

Tammy had a sweet mouth, sucking hard and swirling her tongue around my pecker. I brushed the back of her throat with every thrust. “Gonna deep-throat me now, sweetness,” I whispered.

She looked up, her blue eyes sparkling in confusion.

“Blue hell!” Cheryl-Lynn cursed over the video she was watching on her phone. It sounded like a news report in a warzone. “It's like some cheesy movie goin' on in Tacoma.”

I pushed deeper into her throat; Tammy relaxed, and swallowed my pecker. Her lips pressed into my invisible pubes. She swallowed, massaging my shaft. Her mouth was wide open, and I could see inside her a bit, her tongue sliding around my invisible cock.

The toilet flushed. Silk rustled as Cheryl-Lynn pulled up her shorts. “This is wild,” she muttered, still listening to her phone. The stall door opened. I glanced back as Cheryl-Lynn walked into sight.

She froze, blinking at her friend.

I kept fucking Tammy's sweet mouth.

“Um?” Cheryl-Lynn asked. “Are you okay?”

Tammy moaned around my pecker.

“Are you choking?”

Cheryl-Lynn rushed in, her hazel eyes full of concern. She bumped into me, driving my pecker back down her friend's throat. The brunette squealed in fear, eyes trembling as she reached out and touched my back. Then she turned, about to bolt.

My hand snaked out, grabbing her by her frosted tips. She yelped as I yanked her back into the stall. She stumbled, and fell against me, her round tits pressing against me through the thin material of her tank top.

“Help!” she screamed at the top of her lungs. “Oh, Lord, help!”

I stopped fucking Tammy's face so I could reached out and stroked Cheryl-Lynn's cheek. “Ain't nothin' to be 'fraid of, sweetness,” I cooed. “Just relax your purtee, little head. I ain't gonna hurt you. Just gonna fuck you.”

She still struggled in my grip, just not as hard as my finger traced down her neck and into the cleavage of her tank top. I pulled it down until her dark-brown nipple popped out. I stroked it; she hardened and sighed. My Pact affected her, and she stopped resisting.

“See, sweetness, ain't that nice?”

“I guess,” she mumbled. “Are you the Ghost?”

“Sure as shit.” I pinched her nipple; her hazel eyes squeezed shut and a delicious moan escaped her lips. “Your slut friend's suckin' my pecker real nice. Ain't no reason we can't put your sweet lips to work. Get down on your knees and rim my ass.”

Her tan cheeks darkened with a blush. “You mean I gotta...”

“Get to lickin', sweetness.”

“Oh, Lords,” she moaned, kneeling behind me. I could feel her trembling breath on my asscheeks. Her fingers were hesitant as she reached out, sliding around my body. I stopped fucking Tammy's mouth, letting the slut do all the work as her friend searched out my asshole. Her fingers brushed it, a tremble passed through me. “Here goes,” she muttered.

Her tongue was wet as she rimmed my ass. Her face buried between my cheeks, and was silky smooth. Her licks were soft, then she swirled her tongue around in a circle. She moaned, and wiggled her tongue into me.

“Hot damn!” I groaned. “You sluts are the best.”

I enjoyed both of the sweet, young things' tongues on my body. Tammy had just the tip of my pecker between her lips, swirling her tongue around it, and sucking hard. The brunette pushed her tongue as deep as she could, then pulled it out and sucked.

My balls tightened. “Gonna flood your sweet mouth. Don't swallow. Good girls share.”

Her blue eyes looked up with understanding.

Cheryl-Lynn's tongue shot back into me. My pecker erupted. Tammy gasped, her mouth filling up with my thick cum. I leaned against the stall wall, grunting as another large blast shot into her mouth.

“Goddamn!” I groaned, firing one last burst.

I leaned against the wall, panting. I slid to the side and Tammy reached out, pulling her friend to her. The brunette smiled, and dove in to kiss her friend as eager as a bear going for a hive of honey. Cheryl-Lynn's tongue shoved into her mouth, pink organs fencing and swapping my invisible cum. Cheryl-Lynn's hands went to Tammy's tube top, pushing the fabric up and exposing a pair of perky, conical tits topped with little, mauve nipples.

“What?” Tammy asked in confusion as Cheryl-Lynn bent down and sucked one of those mauve treats into her lips. “Oh, no! Stop that!”

I reached out, stroking the blonde's face. “Relax, sweetness. Let your purtee friend dyke out on you. She's been achin' to do it. Ain't that right, slut?” I gave Cheryl-Lynn's ass a smack.

“I have!” she groaned. “I love your brother, but you got his hot looks. Please! Let me go down on your pussy! You'll love it.”

“Okay,” Tammy whispered.

Cheryl-Lynn nibbled on her friend's mauve nub. My pecker rose, watching that sweet, young thing make love to her friend's tit. She switched tits, sucking as much of the cone into her lips as she could; Tammy gasped.

“Oh, my!” the blonde moaned. “That's just...wow!”

“Wait until you feel my tongue diggin' in your snatch!”

Tammy bit her lip, seeming unsure about letting her friend eat out her pussy. I reached out, pinching her nipple and letting my Pact relax her, and said, “Can't wait to see her tongue buried in your sweet cooch.”

Her blue eyes widened. “Yeah! Do it, Cheryl-Lynn. Dyke out on my pussy!”

“With pleasure!” The brunette kissed Tammy's flat stomach, tonguing her cute bellybutton. She moved lower, nuzzling the triangle of blonde curls above Tammy's cooch. “I've been dreamin' 'bout this for months.”

Tammy's back arched; Cheryl-Lynn's mouth buried in her cooch. The garnet stud piercing in the brunette's nose glinted as she vigorously waxed Tammy's hardwood floors. Tammy's conical tits bounced and jiggled as she heaved on the toilet. The little slut was enjoying her friend's tongue lashing.

“Oh, Cheryl-Lynn!” she groaned. “Oh, my words! Keep doin' that! Oh, Lords, yes!”

Cheryl-Lynn's ass wiggled, barely covered by her short shorts. My pecker was ready thanks to Astarte's Pact, and eager to plumb this teen's cooch. I gazed at the tight ass, the way the fabric clung to her firm cheeks, and decided I wanted to plumb a different hole.

“Open up, Tammy!” I barked. “Need you to get my pecker nice and wet so I don't tear up your friend's cornhole.”

Tammy licked her lips and opened wide, giving my pecker a nice bath. You could just make out my cock's outline, glistening with her spit. I knelt behind Cheryl-Lynn's smoking ass, and yanked down her short shorts and black thong. Her cooch was shaved, lips swollen and protruding out. But I was interested in her sweet ass.

I spread her cheeks, pink asshole winking as she shifted her hips. I dove in. Her moans were muffled by Tammy's cooch. I loved it. She was tight, gripping my pecker like a two dollar hooker fisting me in a back alley, and she was, oh, so warm. I pillaged her, enjoying her squeals and grunts, and watching Tammy's conical tits bounce around.

Cheryl-Lynn's dropped cell phone began blaring one of those boy band songs. “Shoot. That'd be Nate.”

“Ignore it,” I grunted, pistoning inside her ass. “You're my slut. You can go back to him when I'm done with you and your sweet friend's cooches!”

“Umm, sounds great!”

“Oh, Lords! Oh, Lords, yes!” Tammy moaned. “Shoot! I'm gonna cum, Cheryl-Lynn! Oh my words, yes!”

“Cum for me, baby! Let me drink all your sweet honey!”

“Lord, yes!” Tammy screamed. Her entire body stiffened, face squeezing as she came as loud as a Tijuana firecracker.

“Oh, baby!” Cheryl-Lynn groaned. “That was amazin'! You shoulda seen your pussy spasming about. Fuck, it was hot! Umm, gonna cum myself! Keep stirin' that monster up my ass! Just like that! Go harder! Oh, fuck!”

“Cum, slut!” I grunted, pounding her cornhole hard. Our flesh slapped together. “Let me feel your slutty ass cum on my pecker like the dirty, little whore you are!”

“Yes!” she groaned. Her ass clamped down on my pecker.

I buried deep into her, letting her sweet ass massage my cock. My balls tightened, my body tensed. I whooped loud and unloaded! That wonderful, powerful release shooting out of my pecker and basting the little whore.

“Hot damn, you got a tight cornhole, sweetness,” I grunted, pulling out. Then I gave her tight rear a slap.

Tammy stood and pulled up her jean shorts.

“Hey now!” I objected. “Didn't tell you to put your shorts back on. Get your ass out of the stall, peel them off, and get down on the floor. I wanna give your cooch a twirl.”

“A'ight,” she smiled, slipping past Cheryl-Lynn who still lay panting on the floor. She looked down at the cement floor, grimacing.

I goosed her ass. “Get them jean shorts off and get down on the floor. Wanna fuck your cooch, sweetness!”

Tammy's phone blared in her jean pocket. She reached for it, but I knocked her hand away. “Right,” she nodded. “We're yours for 'while longer.”

“Abso-damn-fuckin'-lutely, sweetness. Now get them shorts off, before I tear them off, and whoop your ass for good measure.”

Her fingers unsnapped her jeans, then she wiggled out of them. Her panties were pink, bikini cut, and spotted with her juices. Her flip-flops came off with her shorts, her small toes wiggling on the cold concrete. She gingerly sat down and stretched out, and spread those lush thighs wide open for me.

“Cheryl-Lynn, why don't you go and sit that purtee, little cooch of yours right on your friend's face.”

Almost in a blur, the laughing brunette rushed to her friend and squatted down on her. She rubbed her juicy cooch on Tammy's lips, and threw her arm over her head like she was a cowgirl spinning a lasso.

“Ride that filly!” I chuckled.

“Umm, she's a spirited ride!”

My pecker was ready, thank Astarte for her gift, even if it did come with some cryptic, bullshit prophecy. I knelt down, barely feeling the cold, rough concrete, and hooked my arms under Tammy's knees, raising up her ass. I speared her cooch, washing Cheryl-Lynn's filth off in juicy cunt.

Cheryl-Lynn's blasted phone rang, filling the bathroom with some boy band's insipid lyrics. The brunette peeled her tank top off, revealing her round tits, and hummed to the song as she rode on her friend's face. Those were a mighty fine pair of melons, topped with dark brown nipples. I buried my face, sucking hard on a nub, and fucked Tammy hard.

“Oh, sweet Lord!” moaned Cheryl-Lynn. “I knew you would love dykin' out! You are a natural, pussy-licking sweetheart. Hell, yeah! Suck on my clitty! Oh, fuck! Keep doin' that! I ain't gonna last long on your sweet mouth.”

“Good!” Tammy moaned, barely understandable muffled by cooch.

Cheryl-Lynn squealed. “Oh, you dirty slut! Where'd you learn to do that? Oh, fuck! That buttered my toast!”

The teen's arms wrapped around my head, holding me tight. Her voice rose an octave, screaming her orgasm loud. I could smell her tart juices as she bathed Tammy's hungry lips. Tammy bucked her hips, grinding her clit against my groin.

A muffled knock. “Is that you, Cheryl-Lynn? You girls in there?”

“Oh, hell yes!” she screeched. “Lick my pussy, Tammy!”

“Shit! Is somethin' happenin' in there?” Nate shouted, struggling to open the locked door.

“I'm cummin' again! Sweet Jesus, yes!” Cheryl-Lynn screamed.

“Fuck! Hold on, babe!” Nate roared. The metal door shook, the jock slamming his body into it. “Fuck! Just hold on! I'll fuckin' kill you, you fuckin' rapist!”

Tammy's tight cooch spasmed about my pecker, cumming as hard as her friend. My balls ached to cum, but that damn banging on the door was really wrecking the mood. I closed my eyes, pounding harder on her sweet cunt.

“I'll kill you, mothafucker!” Nate screamed. “I'll rip your goddamn cock off and shove it up your ass! The cops are comin', and I'm gonna watch them fuck you up!”

Goddamn!

I pulled out of Tammy. “Slut, go open the door and let your stupid brother in! Boy needs to learn a lesson.”

Tammy stood up dazed, her face smeared with pussy juices. I grabbed Cheryl-Lynn, throwing her up against the wall, her tits bouncing. The deadbolt turned, Nate burst in, his face and thick neck red.

“Where is the fuckin' rapist!”

“These purtee, young thangs are mine,” I roared, sounding as ghostly as I can.

I pinned Cheryl-Lynn to the wall, lifting her up, and shoved my pecker deep into her cooch. She gasped, wrapping her legs around my waist and humped back. To Nate, it looked like his girlfriend hung suspended in the air.

The beefy lug's eyes widened.

“I'm the Ghost of Paris, and I can have any sweet, young thang I won't!” I roared, hammering away. My balls were just about ready to burst. “Any dumb guy that tries to stop me is gonna get his pecker ripped off and shoved up his ass.”

“Ohmygod!” Christy Lynn moaned. “Ohmygod! Fuck me harder!”

“Sorry, bro,” Tammy shrugged, snuggling up to me. I grasped her tit, letting her brother see it squeezed between my fingers.

“These sluts are mine for the afternoon! Get the fuck out, before I really get mad!”

He gave a strangled moan and pissed himself. Laughing insanely, I came in Cheryl-Lynn's sweet cooch as the meathead boyfriend ran away like fucking baby. Cheryl-Lynn squeezed me tight, howling in my ear, as she came again.

“I can't believe you frightened him off,” she moaned after a minute. “That asshole left us to be molested!”

“What a pussy,” I laughed. “You should find yourself a fuckin' man, not a little, fuckin' girl!”

“I reckon I should! Gonna kick his ass until next Tuesday for this!”

Tammy giggled. “It ain't so bad. I'll keep you company 'til you find a new beau.”

Cheryl-Lynn found her thong. “Sounds good. Maybe I should make the Ghost my new friend.”

“I'll be your friend, sweetness. But one woman ain't enough for me.” I pinched Cheryl-Lynn's ass. “You sweet, young thangs take care, I got to rustle me up another filly or three to while away the evenin' hours.”

To be concluded...

Epilogue: The Pink-Haired Girl

Wednesday, November 14th, 2013 – Paris, Texas

The last two-and-a-half months had been the greatest of my life.

For the measly price of my soul, the Devil gave me the power to be invisible and molest any woman I want, and for the even smaller price of letting Astarte posses Darlene Cummins for the night, I got unlimited sexual stamina. Sure, it took me a week to get used to the fact I had an almost perpetual case of blue balls, but I had a lot of fun with it.

I haunted the High School, fucking girls all day. I slipped into houses, fucked wives next to sleeping husbands, or fucked teenage daughters as their parents slept in the next room. Half the cheerleaders at Paris High School, and more than few other students, were pregnant with my child. I was a regular fixture at the Church of the Living God, the former Paris Revival for Christ, fucking the women who went there for worship. I knocked Happy up, and fucked her sister a few times when she got home from her honeymoon. And I had just finished paying a visit to my favorite librarian, my dick still wet with her pussy.

The world changed that day I spent fucking in the park. Mark and Mary Glassner ruled the US. Things were a little crazy as the Governor of Texas succeeded from the Union and reformed the Republic of Texas. The reborn Republic ended when the Governor was executed by the army. My favorite website, the Unearthed Arcana, had been shut down by the FBI as the Gods were going after anyone that may have summoned a demon and made a Pact. The Anti-Warlock Act had been signed into law: anyone who made a Pact needed to turn themselves in or be executed.

I wasn't afraid. I'm the Ghost of Paris. How could the Gods' forces ever find me?

My pecker was hard, as usual, and I was watching the main street of Paris for some pretty, young thing to fuck. I saw Ursula and Marybeth walking across the street and thought about molesting them. They were dating now and living together and planning on raising the kid I planted in Ursula's belly together.

Pink flashed out of the corner of my eye. I turned to see a stunningly beautiful woman walk by. She was a nymph, a beautiful young face framed by bubble-gum pink hair, her hips swaying, and barely covered by a jean skirt. A tight, pink t-shirt clung to her melons—she wore no bra, her nipples dimpling the fabric—with the words 'Daddy's little girl' printed on it. Only 'girl' was crossed out and 'slut' written beneath it.

I let out a hungry growl. She was a slut with a capital S.

Beware the maiden, pink of hair. Astarte's voice whispered in my mind.

She walked past, her ass writhing like a bag full of cats beneath that tight jean skirt. My pecker ached so bad to stick it in her cooch. I followed her. She was so beautiful, vivacious—desirable.

Beguiling figure, comely face.

What could this little girl do to me? It was getting hard to think as my blood filled up my pecker. I reached out, stroking her neck. She gave a delightful squeal, whirling about, looking wild-eyed. I loved this part, watching the fear, feeling my power over the girl. Her breasts heaved in her tight shirt. Hot damn, it looked like her nipples were pierced.

I had to see for myself.

I pulled up the hem of her shirt, gaping in awe at her titties. They were round and topped with pink nipples pierced with silver barbells. Before I could grab those beauties, she spun away, running down the street with a shriek, a gazelle running from the lion.

Beware the Maiden, pretty as death.

I didn't give one shit about Astarte's prophecy. I was going to stick my pecker in that slut's cooch and fuck her until she cums. God, I had to fuck that ass, too. I bet the slut's had a cock shoved up her cornhole before.

She ducked down an alley. I smiled; that led to an abandoned field with a high fence. She was trapped, at my mercy. I strolled through the alley, whistling. I could see her standing in the center, staring wild-eyed about, her tits still exposed to my gaze. She may be the most beautiful piece of ass I have ever seen.

Leading you to your final place.

What the fuck did Astarte know. I grabbed those breasts, fingered those gorgeous nipples, and pulled on her piercing.

“I'm gonna enjoy stickin' my pecker in you, sweetness,” I told her. She'd be powerless now. I had my hands on her, molesting her. I had wished that all girls would enjoy my touch, and that made them all clay in my hands.

She gave a snort of derision. “Fuck that.”

I blinked at her. “Ain't you feelin' horny, yet?”

“Not for you,” she said with anger.

Her knee connecting with my balls caught me by surprise. I doubled over in pain, falling to my knees. She pulled something out of her purse, one of them squeeze water bottles that athletes have. She squeezed it and a blue liquid fell on my invisible body.

Paint.

Fear jumped through me. There was paint smearing my body, revealing me to the world. I turned, sprinting like a madman for the alley exit. A big, fit man stepped out of the alley. He had a dangerous-looking military bearing. I tried to slip past him, but his hands grabbed me, slamming me to the ground.

The wind was knocked violently from my lungs and I could only stare up at the man as I coughed. The pink-haired bitch walked up. She was fastening something around her neck—a gold choker. The name “Alison” was writtenin diamonds, and inscribed below that was, “Mark and Mary's slut forever.”

“You work for them?” I asked.

“I was their first. I hunt filthy Warlocks like you down.” She gave a mock smile. “Well, you're my first Warlock. Turns out Sam's divining works perfectly. Only took me five minutes of walking down the street to get your attention.”

More men were entering the square. They grabbed me, handcuffing my hands with plastic zip ties behind my back. “I want my lawyer,” I spat. “I know my rights.”

The pink-haired bitch laughed. “Do we look like cops?” She pulled out a perfume bottle and sprayed it into my face. A strange feeling came over me, a kind of bubbly helpfulness. “Now, what's your name, Warlock?”

“Scotty Adams,” I answered, wanting to please the beautiful, pink-haired woman.

“Good.” I was happy, my answer pleased her. “Now, what did you wish for?”

“Well, from the Devil, I wished to be invisible, for women to love my molestation, and to be immune from the elements. From Astarte, I wished for sexual stamina.”

She whistled. “You made Pacts with two separate demons. You have been quite bad, Scotty. Now, have you heard of the Anti-Warlock act?”

“Yes, I heard 'bout it.”

“So why didn't you turn yourself in and claim the amnesty?”

“Didn't want to give it all up,” I answered truthfully.

“Well, Sergeant Holland, what's your assessment?” Alison asked the big guy who captured me.

“I don't see why we need to bother our Mistress with this piece of shit,” he answered. “His powers doesn't let him permanently control people so he couldn't bind them with the Zimmah spell so we don't have to worry about any collateral deaths. And he did admit to hearing about the Anti-Warlock act. I say summary execution.”

“I agree,” Alison answered, an angry, cold smile filling her lips.

“Wait, what?” I asked. “You can't just kill me! I have rights.”

“Warlocks do not have rights,” she snarled. “You all deserve to burn for what you did to my Desiree.”

Who was that? I had never met a woman named Desiree in my life.

I felt something hard, metal, pressing into the back of my head. This couldn't be happening. This was America. “Please,” I begged.

“Scotty Adams, I condemn you to death for violating the First Commandment of the Theocracy: You shall not make Pacts with Demons.”

“Wait!” I shouted. The gun barked.

Then I was falling, falling, falling into darkness.

The darkness gave way to fire.

“Hello, Scotty,” the Devil grinned as I burned before him. A chain of molten, red metal was about my neck, connecting us. “I hope you had lots of fun.”

I screamed and screamed. All I had to cling to were the memories of my conquests, all the sweet, young things I fucked as everlasting fire consumed my flesh. I pictured all their beautiful faces.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Monday, November 19th, 2013 – Deidre Cheshire – Paris, Texas

I gazed around at the group of women and girls assembled in the back room of the Paris Public Library, clutching the printout of the Magicks of the Witch of Endor. It was death to hold this book in the new Theocracy that had taken over America, but I was willing to risk that for the Ghost. I think I was the last woman he was with before Alison and the Theocracy cornered him. When the Theocracy announced his execution, I still had a load of his cum in my pussy and I saved it, the vial tucked into my bra, safe beside my heart.

“Has anyone seen him?” Ursula asked, the blonde cheerleader leaning against her girlfriend, Marybeth's body, a tremble passing through the busty girl.

“No,” Heather answered. The redhead teenager's face was twisted with concern. “He's never gone more than three days without slippin' into my bed and givin' me some lovin'.”

“Then it's true, the Theocracy's killed him,” Cheryl-Lynn pouted, hugging her friend Tammy tight.

“No!” gasped the twin sisters Rhonda-May and Marissa.

“It's true,” I said. I looked at them all—his lovers. There were almost thirty women and girls in the room. “The Ghost is dead. But there's a way to bring him back. If we're willing to pay the price.”

END
1 comments

Anonymous readerReport 

2014-11-12 09:11:51
sorry to say this penname, but your stories are slipping. you need to stop relying on the fame of devils pact and move on

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