Charmed: Harmed Part 6 (FM+/b,M/F,ncon,inter,demon,morph,scat)
by Pred

* God, it hurts SO BAD! * Phoebe Halliwell looked up wearily from The Book
of Shadows, the pain in her soul wringing out her insides like a wet sponge.
* I can't let myself slip away, * she tried to hold back the tears. * Prue,
Piper, Leo,.. the world needs me. But it just HURTS SO BAD! *

She needed to take a break. She'd been studying the Book for well over an
hour now, ever since Piper left to rescue Jenny. * She HAS to save her. *
Phoebe felt a tear forming in her eye. * It's all my fault, all my
fault... * She couldn't stop the images flooding over her mind - Jenny and
the dogs, Persephone and Thomas, Piper and Dan, Leo... Antonio.

As the mental montage compounded, she felt the demon attached to her growing
more and more powerful. And, as his strength increased, the pain became more
and more unbearable. She could literally feel the teeth gnashing inside her,
gnawing away her soul, bit by bit, piece by piece.

* I'm going to Hell, * she sobbed to herself. Below her, the Book's pages
were blurred from the tears in her eyes. * Good, pure thoughts... * She
recalled Leo's instructions. * Good, pure thoughts. * She now called up
images from her childhood, Prue, Piper, their mother... * You are not Evil,
* she told herself. * You are Good. Feel the Love coursing through you.
You are Good... *

Phoebe Halliwell wiped her hand across her eyelashes and tried to get back
to the task at hand. It had only taken her a few minutes to find a spell
suitable for vanquishing Abyss Demons, and the verses were already
transcribed into her notebook. In her "tainted" state, however, she couldn't
cast the spell herself.

So all she could do was wait for Prue or Piper to get back and release her
from the demon. Then it would be time to kick some serious demon-butt.
* Come on, you guys... * she implored her sisters silently. * I don't know
how much longer I can hold out. *

Once again, she studied the words she'd written down, committing the
incantation to memory for what seemed the hundredth time:

Born in darkness
Thence to return
Forsake this Plane
And Forever burn.
Release all souls
You hold in thrall
Return to darkness
For Once and All.

The words were simple enough. The hard part, though, would be the
accompanying potion.

* Wouldn't you know it, * Phoebe mused. * It can never just be a simple
spell, can it...? * In addition to normal ingredients such as mandrake
root, nightshade and oil of smoke, the mixture also called for something
called "essence of forgiveness." When Phoebe looked up this additive, she
immediately became concerned.

"Essence of forgiveness" was any physical artifact freely given from the body
of an "Innocent Wronged." Further study revealed that in cases of demonic
possession, especially massive infestation, it became paramount to find at
least one "innocent wronged" who could freely forgive one of the Possessed
for any horrible acts committed. If the innocent voluntarily surrendered
from his or her own body a token of forgiveness, then this would constitute
the potion's "essence of forgiveness."

In most instances, a simple teardrop was used. Sometimes blood from a fresh
wound would be given, but any bodily artifact - sweat, a lock of hair, even a
severed digit or limb - would suffice. The crucial element was forgiveness.
If the innocent didn't have true forgiveness in his or her heart, it didn't
matter what was used in the potion.

Phoebe's mind now raced. She needed to find forgiveness from one of
Destiny's victims, as well as a teardrop or some other physical token from
the innocent's body. * Thomas? * She thought about the young teenager
that she had helped abuse in the Destiny suite. If she could get to him,
maybe...? But he was being held at Destiny, which was the last place in
the world she could go in her semi-possessed state. This only left two
other victims that she personally knew of -- Jenny and... Antonio.

* Antonio... * Her mind flashed with images from earlier that day, when she
had reached down and fondled the boy's small privates. Despite her blatant
abuse, he had only returned her molestation with trusting, loving eyes.
* Yes, Antonio! * The little seven-year-old neighbor boy would forgive her.
In fact, he already had, out in the driveway. Antonio loved her, and she
loved him.

Phoebe's heart swelled with such purity and goodness that she felt the demon
feasting on her soul hesitate slightly. She thought of Antonio's sweet,
tender, trusting smile, and the way his little arms wrapped around her waist
when they hugged. * Take that, Mr. Demon! * she snapped defiantly in her
mind, filling her consciousness and what was left of her soul with every
sweet memory and tender emotion connected to Antonio that she could muster.

All she needed to do was leave the house for a minute, run over to the
Mariano's, talk to Antonio and get something from him - a lock of hair,
perhaps. She knew she wasn't supposed to leave the Manor. But this was
important, and she was sure she could last for a short while outside the
Manor's protective walls. Leo himself had told Phoebe that she had the
strongest mental will among the three sisters. She would just have to
FIGHT whatever urges the demon threw at her. * It'll only be for a few
minutes, * she insisted to herself. * I can do this! *

She rose from the table in the attic and started towards the stairs. * I can
do this... * she kept repeating the mantra as she descended the staircase
onto the Manor's second floor. * I can do this... * She walked down the
hallway to the Manor's main staircase, turned down the steps and emerged in
the living room. Not giving herself a moment's chance to reconsider her
actions, she headed to the front door. Grasping the knob and twisting it
forcefully, she found herself outside on the porch in another second.

The evening was cool, and a crisp breeze filtered through the last remnants
of twilight. The street was empty, but every house on the block was aglow
with the domestic warmth of lamp-glow and television screens. Even with the
swell of ground-light rising from the city's streets, the first pinpricks of
star-shine twinkled against the fabric of night, covering the whole world in
a cozy blanket of calm.

Phoebe's senses drank in the peaceful gloaming. Standing there on her porch,
it seemed impossible to even conceive of the Evil fluttering all about her.
But somewhere, in the dark corners of her mind, she heard the beat of its bat
wings, the shrill, omnipresent drone of its siren song. * I can do this... *
She steeled herself against the encroaching darkness and vaulted headlong off
the porch, her determined footsteps carrying her directly to the Mariano's
front door.

Not allowing herself even a second to hesitate, Phoebe reached out and rapped
her knuckles on the front door. From behind the thick oak, she could hear
the muffled sound of voices and then the shuffle of feet. A second later,
the door opened a crack and Mrs. Mariano's face peered out. "Ph..Phoebe...?"
she stammered.

"Hi, Mrs. Mariano," Phoebe smiled. "I came over to see Antonio. Is that all
right? I'll only be a minute. I just wanted to apologize for being so short
with him this afternoon. I had something going on, and I was in a hurry..."

"Please, Phoebe, there is no reason to be sorry," Mrs. Mariano cut her off.
The tone in the Colombian woman's voice seemed troubled, harried, as if
Phoebe had picked the worst possible time to pay a visit. Her eyes flashed
at Phoebe, and it was obvious she wanted the youngest Halliwell sister to
leave her doorstep immediately. "You really don't have to apologize..."

"Lupe," a man's voice from behind the door interrupted the woman. Phoebe
detected a definite accent... British perhaps. "You don't have to be rude
on our account. Please invite your guest in."

Lupe Mariano bit her lip and nodded, flashing Phoebe another troubled look.
"Please..." she lowered her eyes as she opened the door. "... come in..."

"I'm sorry if I'm disturbing you," Phoebe apologized as she entered the
Mariano's foyer. "I promise, this will only take a minute." She turned away
from Lupe now and walked into the living room.

In the center of the parlor, Manuel Mariano, Antonio's father, sat motionless
in his wheelchair. A former construction worker, Mr. Mariano had been
injured three years earlier during an industrial accident. The tragedy had
left him paralyzed from the waist down. The Marianos now lived off the
insurance settlement and what Lupe earned as a maid. They weren't rich, and
they had certainly been dealt their share of setbacks, but the Marianos had
always seemed like a happy, content little family to Phoebe.

Maybe this was why Phoebe immediately noticed the tension hanging over the
room. Ten strange men were seated all about the parlor, and an eleventh man
stood about three feet away from Manuel's wheelchair, his hands resting on
little Antonio's shoulders. Amid the plethora of saint statues, religious
medals and distinctly Catholic artwork, the strangers certainly looked out of
place in the Mariano household.

One of the seated men was shaved completely bald, even his eyebrows. Beneath
his eyes, teardrop tattoos ran down his cheeks. The rest of his body was
also adorned with garish skin-art -- dragons, swastikas, iron crosses, and
an upside-down pentagram that outlined the visage of a horned beast. The
words DEVAXCUS LIBRT were written beneath the beast's head, and other words
also adorned the man's body. The letters H A T E were inscribed below the
knuckles of his right hand, while the letters R A P E decorated the other.
When the man blinked, the words PAIN and DEATH could clearly be read across
his eyelids. Hanging from his belt was what appeared to be some kind of
whip, the barbed leather wrapped in coils like a coaxial cable. When he
noticed Phoebe staring at him, the bald man opened his mouth to reveal two
rows of sharpened gold teeth and a heavily-pierced tongue.

Totally squicked, Phoebe avoided the man's leering, feral eyes and quickly
studied the rest of the seated strangers. Although not a word had been
spoken yet, their very appearance made very hair on Phoebe's body stand on

Collectively, the whole group reeked of violence, depravity and corruption.
One of the men was so fat he could barely fit in his chair. Unctuous folds
of flab were spilling out everywhere. The stench of sweat and other bodily
fluids wafted from his bloated form in an almost visible cloud.

Another of the men, slimy-looking and rat-faced, sat chain smoking. His
bony body twitched with a nervous palsy. His beady eyes were locked onto
Antonio's form with such intensity that Phoebe felt a cold, nauseous shiver
creep up through her stomach.

The other seven seated men presented an assortment of even more perverse
characters. One towering black man stood well over seven feet, his bald head
reflecting the overhead light like a lighthouse beacon. Another man, Asian
in appearance, compulsively opened and closed a butterfly knife, the rhythmic
clicking sending a shudder through Phoebe's heart.

Seated next to the Asian, a huge dough-faced brute loomed, his slack jaw
hanging open to reveal a foaming puddle of drool. He was dressed in
overalls, and looked like a reject from the cast of Deliverance. To his
right sat another smaller man also dressed in overalls, harsh cruel lines
etched across his weather-beaten face. Together the two men could have been
cast as Lenny and George in Wes Craven's "Of Mice and Men." Seated in
another set of chairs, the three remaining strangers added a further air
of ominousness to the scene.

One was a large, husky white man dressed in what looked like a prison guard's
uniform. In his beefy hands, he methodically tapped a thick metal billy
club, a malicious grin spread ear-to-ear across his face. The man next to
him was also smiling, the corners of his painted lips curling up into a sneer
that permeated from his ghastly, clownish features. He was tall, lanky and
effeminate, a cross between the Joker and a drag queen. To cap off his look,
he wore a mortician's tuxedo and a rainbow-colored fright wig.

The last of the ten seated men was the most normal-looking of the lot. He
was actually quite handsome, with Tom Selleck features, bulging biceps and a
cut torso clearly visible beneath his tight, white T-shirt. Still, despite
his pleasant face, there was something about his eyes. When Phoebe stared
into his gaze, she shivered. His dark pupils were like portals to some sick,
soulless void.

"Hello, Phoebe." The man standing behind little Antonio broke the uneasy
silence that had settled over the room. This was the man who had spoken when
Phoebe first arrived at the door. "I've been expecting you."

For the first time since she'd arrived, Phoebe took a good look at the man.
He was... absolutely gorgeous. Part Simon LeBon, part James Bond, with a
little Sid Viscous thrown in for good measure. *ALEISTER... ! *

Although Phoebe had never seen the demon before, she knew him immediately,
instinctively. She had been feeling him feed on her soul all day, and with
his physical presence the pain grew even more excruciating. "How did
you...?" she began, then stopped when she realized how foolish she'd been.

The demon was sharing her every thought, conscious and unconscious. When
she'd made the decision to come over to the Mariano's, he'd known her plans
immediately. And now he was here, waiting for her. Her stupidity and
selfishness had now placed three innocents at the mercy of Evil.

She turned wildly towards the door, ready to flee back to the Manor, hoping
that Aleister and his cohorts would take up pursuit and leave Antonio's
family alone. It was her soul that Aleister wanted. And she would do
anything, even sacrifice herself to an Eternity of Damnation, if it meant
Antonio and his family could escape harm.

"How touchingly heroic," Aleister grinned. He was obviously reading her
mind, her every thought and instinct. "It won't work, though. Go ahead," he
challenged, a patronizing, amused tone in his voice. "Run. See if we follow
you. Go on..."

She stood there, frozen to the floor. He was right. They wouldn't even
bother taking up pursuit. With Aleister's hold over her growing every
minute, they had no reason to chase her down. She couldn't run from the

If Phoebe took flight, she would only be deserting Antonio and his family,
and that was one thing she couldn't afford to do. She was their only chance
at protection. Without her there to defend them, the Marianos were as good
as dead. Aleister and his companions would amuse themselves with the
innocent family, then come looking for her when they were finished.

"I'm glad you see the folly in running," Aleister responded to Phoebe's
thoughts again. "It'll really be much more fun if you stay here. This is
our first date, you know," he smirked, his cold, pale hands stroking
Antonio's soft dark hair. "We really should get acquainted."

"L...Let them go," she stammered, using every fiber of her strength to resist
falling down on her knees and worshipping her Man of Destiny. "It's me you
want. Let them go."

"Actually, I already HAVE you," Aleister grinned.

Hearing him say those words sent Phoebe's heart into somersaults. He was
SO ABSOLUTELY gorgeous. More than anything in the world, Phoebe Halliwell
wanted this HUNK to have her, to POSSESS her, body, mind and soul.

* NO! * she tore away from his piercing gray eyes with a savage twist of her
neck. "No... you... don't... have me..." she spoke aloud, but each word grew
softer and less emphatic.

"Really, Phoebe," he shook his head. "I thought you were more intelligent
than all this. Now let us dispense with all this rubbish and get down to
some fun. That is why we're both here, isn't it...? I've arranged this all
for you, you know." He waved his hand across the room, indicating everyone
in the parlor - Antonio, his parents, and the scary men. "You do recognize
these chaps, don't you...?"

"No... I..." Phoebe stopped. She was lying. She did recognize the men, and
her blood ran cold. * The Scary Men... *

From the deepest, darkest, most depraved corners of her mind, they had
somehow materialized to sit in the Mariano living room. The Scary Men were
the stuff of Phoebe Halliwell's most secret adolescent fantasies; the random,
perverse creations of masturbatory excess. The Scary Men peopled the inner
mythology of sexual terror that Phoebe had never shared with anyone - not
Piper, not Prue, not even the psychologist she'd briefly consulted years
earlier while living in New York City.

She had stumbled upon the Scary Men totally by accident one night many years
ago. She must have been no more than thirteen. Waking suddenly from a
nightmare, she had found her hands eagerly at work inside her sopping,
sparsely-haired snatch. Bathed in arousal and perspiration, still-vivid
fragments of the terrifying dream broke over Phoebe's cloudy consciousness
like shards of technicolored glass.

A man was chasing her - the Scary Bald Man, with the menacing tattoos. As
she ran across the expanse of her waking dream, her pounded even more
moisture into her pouting pussy. The wetness bubbled up inside her like
lava, her burning clit the cap of a volcanic peak. She could feel the Scary
Bald Man's footsteps pounding behind her, inside her. The steam and scent
from his heavy breath condensed on the hairs of her bare neck. He was
gaining on her with each passing second, and with each passing second the
passion boiling inside pushed further and further up to the surface.

Some kind of long leathery coil snapped out at her, part whip and part leash.
Like a barbed tentacle it wrapped around her neck and dragged her roughly to
the ground. Her legs still kicking, she screamed as Scary Bald Man tore her
flimsy clothes off with his glinting, golden fangs. In the shadows of her
mind, she spotted something hovering below his waist. It hung in the air
between them, menacing her like a fist ready to strike between her legs.
"That's it, cunt, scream for me..." he hissed.

And she did scream, every single time the Scary Men paid a visit. And with
that scream came the RELEASE. Then, in the aftermath of her spent passion,
she'd bolt upright in her bed, bathed in a hot sweat. Piper would be at her
side moments later, soothing her soaked brow, telling her it had all just
been bad dream. But it wasn't a bad dream.

She called the Scary Men to her - first the Bald Man, next the Fat Man, then
the Twitchy Man, followed by the Overall Brothers, the Black Savage, the
Asian Butcher, the Prison Man, the Clown Man and finally Ted Bundy Man. On
certain nights, when her urges ran their darkest and deepest, she would
invite the Scary Men into her bed, her hands mauling her tender privates in
carnal fury.

Through the years, the Scary Men paid fewer and fewer visits, but still they
always flapped like batwings in the deep dark forests of her soul. And
sometimes, when she was making love and finding herself pitched at the brink
of frustration, she would call one of the Scary Men out from shadows. She
would close her eyes and see the chase. She would taste his ghastly
presence, and something inside her would begin to scream again - the lava,
the volcano, the RELEASE.

Now they were here, in corporeal form, brought to her as a special gift by
her Man of Destiny. But there was more to their presence, MUCH MORE,
something even deeper, darker and more depraved than her Scary Men fantasy
flights. Aleister stood above little Antonio and smiled, reading her
thoughts, and thrilling to the images his scenario now conjured inside her

"You know why I brought them here, Phoebe," he smiled. "You know what I'm
giving you, what they will help us share." He stroked little Antonio's
terrified face.

"Y...yes," Phoebe could not help but reply. "I know..." She tried not to
look into Antonio's frightened eyes, but she could not help herself. It was
just like she'd always imagined The Fantasy - the shivering boy, the pack of
men surrounding him and eyeing him like shark's catching a whiff of blood.

The Fantasy had first taken form while she lived in New York City. Her
apartment was located in the West Village, off Christopher Street. For
two years, queers, queens, leather boys, transvestites and various other
subcultures had surrounded her erotic reality. Welcomed into their world
as a friend, Phoebe soon found herself taking the role of a participant
observer -- part cultural anthropologist, part curious voyeur.

The thought of gay sex, two men fucking, had always fascinated Phoebe, and
when she finally had a chance to experience this diversion first-hand it
became an obsession with her. Peep shows, porno parlors, back alley bargains
and restroom rendezvous - Phoebe Halliwell's eyes feasted on every delight
in this carnal cornucopia. She became so obsessed with her pursuits that
she stopped dating men altogether for several months, her mind and body
thoroughly content with playing the Watcher. For a short while, she achieved
satisfaction with merely her own eyes and her own hands.

This was when The Fantasy began, the one with the small boy running from the
Scary Men as she had once run from them. Only in this version, she was now
running alongside the Pack., welcomed into the society of the Scary Men as
Watcher, Confidant, and Accomplice.

In The Fantasy, Phoebe would do nothing as the Scary Men ran their prey
aground. She would offer no assistance to the howling boy as he was tackled
to the ground. Instead, she was the one who held his bawling body down as
the Scary Men took turns satiating their ravenous hunger, their ghoulish
pricks obliterating the small boy's screaming soul.

When The Fantasy was finished, and her own perverse passions satisfied,
Phoebe would always swear to herself that she would never conjure the
horrific scene again. But days later after the revulsion dissipated, she
would find herself alone in her bed again, the images calling to her,
coaxing her to bring them forth again. And she would, over and over again,
unable to control the compulsion.

Forever after, Phoebe always thought of his period in her life -- the
Watching, The Fantasy -- as the "New York Madness." Eventually, the obsession
ran its course, and when Phoebe Halliwell finally emerged back into the light
of day she never mentioned her experiences or lucubrations to anyone. Soon,
The Fantasy was shelved away with all the rest of the feelings, sensations
and memories she'd collected during these wild days, never to be thought of
or spoken of again.

Until this evening...

"Do you see what I've done, Phoebe?" Aleister interrupted Phoebe's silent
reverie. "Do you see what I can do for you? Your every desire handed to
you. Your every living, breathing moment a wedding of our conjoined souls.
I am your only future, Phoebe, and now it is time... time for you to take
my hand, time for you `to embrace your Destiny."

"I know..." Phoebe answered, every last shred of her soul tattered and shorn
by Aleister's physical presence. "I know what happens now."

"Phoebe!" little Antonio now spoke for the first time since she'd arrived.
"I don't want to play this anymore. Make the scary men go away. Please,
Phoebe. I don't like them."

"He's truly priceless, Phoebe," Aleister grinned, his hands still stroking
the small boy's black curls. "He will rape so well. You'll see. This will
be even better than your fantasies. Hard cocks breaking his tight tiny
asshole... the feel of his squirming body as you hold it down... his shrill
screams pounding into your wet pussy."

"Oh, Aleister..." Phoebe shuddered, almost swooning with the ecstatic images
exploding across her mind. "Yes... now. I can't wait any longer. Now,
please... now..."

"You sick bitch," Lupe Mariano hissed, hatred seething out from every pore
of her body. "We trusted you. Antonio loves you. How could you do this,
you... you sick bitch...?" The woman's English faultered at this point, and
she began to curse Phoebe in Spanish. At the end of her short, gibbering
rant, she spat: "I'll kill you, Phoebe Halliwell. I swear. I will KILL

"Mommy, don't say that to Phoebe!" Antonio cried. "She's not going to let
the scary men hurt me. She's going to give them all karate kicks and save
us. Aren't you, Phoebe?"

"No, Antoni-oni-oni-oh," she cooed, reaching down and stroking the boy's
hair. "Don't be silly now. The Scary Men are my friends, and they're going
to hurt you, rape you..." she uttered those last words with relish, letting
them slide like sweet cool grapes across her tongue. "And I'm going to help
them," she finished, turning to Aleister and seeking his approval.

"No, Phoebe," the boy blubbered. "No..."

"Let go of my son, you bastard!" Manuel Mariano suddenly emerged from his
stupor, lunging pathetically at Aleister from his wheelchair.

Before Manuel could make contact with the demon, however, Prison Man sprang
up from his seat and crumbled the cripple with a blow from his billy club.
While the paraplegic writhed about on the floor, Prison Man calmly unzipped
the fly on his uniform pants, extracted his beefy eleven-inch cock, and
pissed on the groaning gimp.

"You gonna try anything else stupid, you little gimpy greaser?" Prison Man
taunted Antonio's father, his pee sizzling against the handicapped man's
moaning mouth. Grinning, he jabbed the billy club into Manuel's rib cage,
pressing a button on the club's handle and sending a massive amount of
voltage into Mr. Mariano's chest.

"ARRRGGGGHHH!" Manuel screamed. The urine soaking his body amplified the
current, and suddenly the room was filled with the acrid aroma of ozone and
sizzling skin.

"Papa!" Antonio screeched.

"YOU FUCKING CUNT!" Lupe leaped at Phoebe, a flurry of teeth, fingernails
and Spanish invectives. But the Asian Butcher cut off her attack before she
could ever reach Phoebe. His butterfly knife snickered in the air then
sliced up into Lupe's stomach with three deft strokes. The startled look on
the Colombian woman's face was positively priceless as she reached down to
her stomach, her arms suddenly filled with spilling blood and entrails. As
Lupe sank to her knees clutching her intestines, she looked up at Phoebe.
"Burn in helll..." she gasped with her last breath of life.

Phoebe looked at the fresh corpse, expecting to feel something - remorse,
disgust, self-loathing. But the dead woman meant nothing to Phoebe now. The
only thing that mattered was living out The Fantasy. She turned to Aleister.
"Are we done here?" she asked. "I wanna play," she whined.

He nodded, then addressed the men. "Bring the boy outside. It's time for
the Chase."

Phoebe's heart raced with giddy anticipation as she watched as the Scary Men
arose. * They're really going to do it, * she shivered with excitement.
* This is really REALLY happening! *

Large Overall Man scooped up the shrieking Antonio and carried him towards
the front door of the house, the boy tucked helplessly under his massive arms
like a small lamb. The rest of the Scary Men followed Large Overall Man out
the door. In another instant, they were all outside the Mariano house,
spilling onto the street. Phoebe and Aleister, arm in arm like high school
sweethearts, brought up the rear.

"Won't they see us?" Phoebe asked, pointing to all the houses that lined the
streets. "What if someone hears the screaming and comes outside?"

"They're all watching TV or surfing the web ontheir insipid computers,"
Aleister pointed out with a snide grin. "Filling their lives with cartoon
violence and mindless pornography. Besides, who wants to get involved
anyway?" he threw up his hands in mock despair. "If the boy's screams get
too loud, they will merely close their windows, turn up the volume and drown
it out."

The Scary Men were congregating in a pack now, each waiting for the Chase
to begin. Aleister and Phoebe stepped to the forefront of the group, and
Aleister motioned Large Overall Man to lower screeching Antonio. When the
his feet touched the ground, Antonio stopped howling for a moment and looked
at the contingent of ghoulish eyes peering down at him.

"Now is your chance, boy," Aleister smacked the seven-year-old Colombian on
his small bottom. "RUN!"

Sensing his brief moment of freedom, Antonio whirled around and dashed
headlong down the street, his small short legs churning wildly in the
moonlight. The towering Black Savage made a move to take up pursuit, but
Aleister held him off with a wave of his hand.

"You know the Game," Aleister told the Black Savage. The demon withdrew a
stopwatch and clicked down the START button. "He has exactly one minute.
Then the Chase can begin."

As Phoebe watched the boy vanish into the dark shadows of the neighborhood,
she thought to herself that this single minute was the longest sixty seconds
of her entire life. Her eyes fixated on the ticking hand of Aleister's
stopwatch as it swept past the each bold-faced number... * 5... 10... 15...
20... 25... 30... 35... 40... 45... 50... 55... 0! *

Aleister punched down the STOP button and raised the watch so all the Scary
Men could see it. "Let the Chase begin!" he shouted.

In a split second, the Ten Scary Men, Phoebe and Aleister began running into
the darkness, their every collective sense - sight, hearing, smell, taste,
feel -- searching and scanning for the fleeing boy. The Bald Man immediately
took the lead, his black leather jacket glistening and rippling in the glare
of the streetlamps, moonglow and starshine. As the pack followed in his
wake, the group slowly spilt apart, each Scary Man picking up his own
particular scent and trail.

With the passing of another few seconds, Aleister and Phoebe were alone
again, their feet pounding the pavement. Down the street, up driveways,
across cool moist lawns - the couple ran hand-in-hand like wolves on the
hunt, their conjoined souls thrilling to the bloodlust, the Chase. As
Aleister's cock raged with superhuman hardness, Phoebe's pussy flooded
with an issue of passion that spilled out from her labia and flowed down
the smooth flesh of her bare, muscular thighs. Her tongue licked the
crisp night air, tasting the fear that sweated from the boy's pores.

One of the Scary Men was closing in. Phoebe could sense it. She heard
Antonio's shrill cries begin to stab through the darkness, each caterwaul
ripping through her pussy like a mini-orgasm. "There he is... " she heard
the Bald Man shout. "I've got the little greaser."

Phoebe's eyes followed Bald Man's harsh, raspy voice. To her sheer delight,
she saw the Scary Man flush the boy out of a shadowy thicket, like a cheetah
running down a baby gazelle.

Antonio's tiny legs had carried him onto a playground, and now the child was
trying to elude his pursuer by ducking under a set of monkey bars. Ahead of
the boy lay a large baseball field, then a tree line, then a fence, and then
a sea of twinkling residential lights beyond. Scary Bald Man withdrew the
leather coil from his belt loop and brandished it about his head as he closed
in for the capture.

Glancing behind himself, Antonio spied the tentacle slashing out at him. He
tried to duck out of its way, but the coil wrapped around his neck. Scary
Bald Man then stopped dead in his tracks and yanked the whip back like a
leash. Antonio's small body went rigid, his neck and spine snapping with a
violent cracking sound, his feet shooting out from under him and flailing at
the air.

With a small thud, the boy fell backwards to the ground. All the Scary Men
let loose with a cheer now as they closed in on Bald Man's position. While
Phoebe and Aleister brought up the rear, the horde formed a ring around the
struggling, screaming boy. Their strong legs kicked viciously at Antonio's
tiny, weak body. As they congratulated each other on another successful
hunt, their zippers hissed own. In seconds, a fully-loaded arsenal of sodomy
sabers snapped to attention, cocked and ready to commence firing.

Catching her breath, Phoebe pushed her way through the ring, her hand still
clutching Aleister's. "Oh..." she gasped when she saw the howling, bawling
boy squirming about so helplessly on the ground. The Fantasy had come to
life. Her cunt throbbed. She stood on her tiptoes and kissed Aleister's
grinning face, worshipping his mouth with every fiber of her being. For
what seemed an eternity, Phoebe basked in the emotional glow of a giddy
schoolgirl, sharing her tongue with a childhood sweetheart. "I love you,
Aleister," Phoebe gasped when they finally pulled apart. "I love you soooo

"I know, my darling," Aleister extended his hand and pointed to the
shivering, shrieking boy. "He's all yours. Enjoy."

Phoebe squealed with delight, just as she had on her seventh birthday when
her mother had presented her with a fuzzy kitten. She jumped up and down and
skipped up to the grim tableau. Prison Man's boot was pressed into the small
of Antonio's back, holding the boy down. In his strong hands, Prison Man
tapped his billy club impatiently, waiting for Phoebe to take charge of the

Eagerly, like a child riding her first merry-go-round, Phoebe scampered and
squealed to Prison Man's side. For a second, she listened to Antonio's
wailing pulse through her wet pussy. The boy's screams washed over her, into
her, through her. She threw her head back and laughed with sadistic ecstasy.

"Poor little Antoni-oni-oni-oh," she cooed, dropping to her knees. She was
at the boy's side in a moment, pinning him down with her strong bare arms.
When she had the boy secure, she looked up at Prison Man and smiled. Phoebe
Halliwell didn't want any help. She wanted to feel the boy's every
terrorized struggle by herself, with no interference.

Prison Man leered at her and lifted his boot, releasing Antonio totally to
her care. Feeling the sudden easing of pressure on his back, Antonio made a
violent attempt to break free and escape. But Phoebe was ready for this, and
as the boy squirmed around desperately she wrestled him back to the ground.
Her laughter mixed with his screams now, and she stroked his hair while he

"Do you want the honors, darling?" Aleister asked her, pointing to the little
boy's trousers.

Phoebe nodded anxiously, licking her lips and fighting with Antonio to get a
hold of his trouser snaps and zipper. While Phoebe fought to get the boy's
pant legs down, the Scary Men cheered her on. When she finally managed to
pull down the zipper and tug the trousers over the boy's waist, she raised
her hands in triumph. While the boy screeched, the Scary Men erupted into a
barking, woofing chorus.

Drawing his trouser legs down with one hand, Phoebe playfully snapped the
elastic waistband of his underpants with the other. With the men egging
her on, she worked down Antonio's shorts. After a moment's struggle, the
moonlight kissed the boy's small, naked, olive-skinned ass. Overcome with
the thrill of the kill, Phoebe now smacked the child's bare bottom,
squealing with delight as she felt his tiny cock stiffen under her abuse.

"Okay," she giggled, "who's first? Who wants to bust this tight little,
seven-year-old ass?"

"I bagged him," Bald Man rasped. "I get first crack," he punned.

Phoebe looked up at her original nightmare lover, whistling appreciatively
when she saw the full fury of his 10-inch, tattooed cock. Pierced through
the bulbous warhead with a thick gold ring, the entire length of his fearsome
shaft was lined with four spiked silver chains that ended in another gold
ring inserted into the shaved, wrinkled skin of his scrotum. As Bald Man
stroked his sphincter shredder, he prodded the boy's wriggling body with his
steel-toed boots.

"Get a little spit on that thing," Ted Bundy Man suggested to Bald Man.
"Let's see him suck that big pierced dick."

"Yeah," Phoebe begged Bald Man. "Make him suck it."

Bald Man sneered, then stepped around the boy's body. Grasping Antonio
through his tousled black curls, he pulled the boy's bawling face up to his
rampant cock. "You heard 'em, taco," Bald Man rasped. "Suck it!" he
ordered, butting the head against the boy's clenched jaws.

Antonio shook his head violently, tears streaming down his face as he refused
to open his small mouth. Bald Man laughed and yanked the boy's hair hard.
Antonio shrieked in pain.

"I said 'Suck it,' you filthy little greaser," Bald Man spit in the boy's
face. Before Antonio could slam his jaws shut, Bald Man rammed his pierced
prick deep into the boy's gasping, gagging mouth. Instinctively, Antonio bit
down on the thick tube of meat between his lips. His tiny teeth only clicked
down on metal, though, and the spiked chain sliced the inside of his small
mouth to ribbons.

Blood pouring from his puking lips, the boy sobbed in heaves as Bald Man
drove his armored cock forward. Bald Man grunted as he power-fucked the
boy's mouth. His sharp schlong tore through Antonio's tonsils until his
pierced prick-helmet bottomed out in the boy's windpipe.

"Let's see how long the little greaser can hold his breath?" Small Overall
Man suggested.

"Aleister," Phoebe looked up at her Man of Destiny, "use your stop watch."

The demon nodded, withdrew his watch again and punched the START button.
"One... two... three..." he began counting off.

"Come on, fuck his face!" Phoebe cheered Bald Man on. "Choke fuck him! Oh
look at his face, Aleister," she wept for joy. "It's so beautiful. You're
so beautiful Antoni-oni-oni-oh."

"If you ain't gonna take that tight cherry ass, then I am," Twitchy Man
snarled. Consumed with choke-raping the little boy, Bald Man offered no
objections as Twitchy Man lowered himself to the ground. With one hand,
Twitchy Man furiously stroked his thin 7-inch cock to its maximum hardness.
With the other hand, he spread apart the delicate folds of the boy's
olive-skinned ass-cheeks.

"Ahhhhhhggghhh!" Antonio howled as he felt Twitchy Man's needle-dick nose
against his tender hole.

"Now let's see how you ride, you little beaner," Twitchy Man taunted. He
took the cigarette out of his mouth and pressed the burning end against
Antonio's naked tender ass flesh. The skin seared and Antonio convulsed in
agony, his tiny body bucking wildly as Twitchy Man sliced his needle-nosed
prick deep between the boy's dry, clenched ass-cheeks. "Oh, yeah..." he
panted, the boy flopping around like a harpooned baby seal on his dick,
"that's the ticket, taco. Christ, this little beaner is tight."

"I mussst have ssssome of that adorable little mouth," Scary Clown Man
lisped. With his long, bony fingers he pried the boy's jaws even further
apart, managing to slide his short, thin pecker alongside Bald Man's until
both organs were wedged inside the boy's blubbering mouth. "Oh, my," Scary
Clown Man gushed, "that feelsss posssitively delicioussss."

In unison, both Scary Men now pounded into Antonio's face, while Twitchy Man
rode the boy's ass hard into the ground. Phoebe ground her pussy into the
boy's back, humping away as she watched the Scary Men tear into the child's
tender body. Aleister reached out and popped one of Phoebe's aching tits
from her blouse, massaging and tweaking the nipple sadistically while the
youngest Halliwell sister panted in heat.

"Your cock," she gasped, kissing the legs of the demon's tailored trousers.
"Please let me suck your cock. I want to taste it so bad."

"You do, do you?" Aleister glared down at her mischievously, grasping her
hair and snapping her neck back hard. She looked up at the demon in total
worship, kissing the crotch of his trousers hungrily. He grinned and
unzipped his fly, letting Phoebe stick her face into his pants and fish for
his prick with her slobbering mouth.

In another second, she had his magnificent eight-inch cock gripped between
her sucking lips, bringing it out into the moonlight. Now, with her eyes
fixed on the Scary Men's assault, she allowed Aleister to fuck her face with
impunity. His hard demonhood plowed between her gasping lips and butted up
against the inside of her cheeks, stretching out the skin until she thought
his cock-head would punch through to the other side.

Inspired by the Twitchy Man, Small Overall Man was now flicking lit matches
against Antonio's naked, olive flesh. As each match seared into a fresh
patch of skin, the boy jerked into a spasm of renewed anguish.

"Oh, shit that's good," Twitchy Man gasped, his cock riding each spastic
seizure. "Keep it up. Shit, this little beaner is so fucking tight. You
should feel his ass every time he squirms. Oh fuck..." Twitchy Man was
nearing the point of no return now, really pouring it on, thrusting hard
and deep into the boy's broken butt. "FUCK YOU, you little shit-skinned
mongrel," he spat, withdrawing his smoking cock from Antonio's ruined rectum.

"Give the man some room," Ted Bundy Man shouted to Scary Clown Man and Bald
Man. Black Savage and Large Overall Man pulled the two Scary Men from
Antonio's mouth, allowing Twitchy Man the first trophy shot of the evening.

Gripping his needle-nosed dick tightly in one hand, Twitchy Man used his
other hand to position Antonio's sobbing skull point-blank at his piss-hole.
Seconds later, he released the grip on his cock and relaxed his urethra. A
sizzling spurt of cum dumped all over Antonio's tear-stained cheeks.

While the boy blubbered, Twitchy Man smeared his spunk over every contour of
the boy's beautiful face, then inserted his cock-head between the boy's soft,
bloody lips. "Suck it, clean, beaner," he spat in the boy's face while he
wrapped his thin hands around the boy's neck. "Get every last drop, or so
help me God I'll strangle you like a little mongrel puppy-dog."

Obediently, the crying child complied, licking and slurping at the molester's
foul dick like he was drinking a thick milkshake. "That is so beautiful,"
Phoebe cooed in between mouthfuls of Aleister's demonhood. "Look at his
little sobbing mouth suck that hard man-cock. Oh, Aleister, I love you so

"You think that's beautiful, baby, you ain't seen nothing yet," Ted Bundy
boasted. He swung his cock to-and-fro like a baseball player taking some
practice cuts in the on-deck circle. "It's time a REAL man showed you how
it's done."

Ted Bundy Man's cock was nine very hard, very thick inches. It jutted out
from below his ripped abs like a carved slab of white marble. Every vein and
ridge glistened in the moonlight. "DO IT," Phoebe egged him on. "Rip his
tight little asshole even more. He didn't cry loud enough the first time. I
REALLY want to hear him howl."

"Oh, he'll howl all right," Ted Bundy Man grinned sadistically. "Just hold
him down and I'll take care of the rest."

While Phoebe struggled to hold Antonio down, the little Colombian boy began
kicking furiously again. His shrill cries grew even more frantic as he felt
the weight of his next attacker press down upon him.

As Ted Bundy Man pried open the boy's stretched sphincter, he looked up at
Black Savage. "I got an idea," Ted Bundy Man smiled at the other Scary Man.
"Let's see how this little taco likes the taste of dark meat, my brother."

"Damn straight," Black Savage flashed a watermelon grin. "Time to get
biblical on the boy's mouth."

While Ted Bundy Man split Antonio's ass-pipe with his piston-like thrusts,
Black Savage bitch-slapped the boy's bawling face with his thirteen-inch
bone. "Beg me for it, boy?" Black Savage baited Antonio. "Beg me for that
big black bone. Come on, boy, BEG!"

"Please stop hurting me..." Antonio howled, his broken body unable to offer
any more resistance to the relentless assault. "Please, I'll do anything.
Just stop hurting me..."

"Beg me, boy," Black Savage kept at him. "Beg for this big black bone.

"No..." Antonio sobbed. "No... just stop... please..."

"Listen, boy," Black Savage jeered. "Would you rather suck on it, or choke
on it? The decision is yours, 'cause it don't make no mother-fucking
difference to me, all right...? 'Cause I'm gonna get my big black dick
sucked off no matter what, all right...?"

"Okay... okay..." the boy sobbed.

"Say the magic word, boy, just like yo' mommy taught you," Black Savage
pressed him, still beating his bone upside the boy's head.

"Please... please..." Antonio wept.

"Now you see," Black Savage grinned, "that wasn't so hard, was it, boy...?"
He held his cock against Antonio's lips and let the boy suckle it like a
nursing baby. "Now ain't that sweet?" Black Savage asked the Scary Men.
"Look at the little greaser suck that big black dick just like a little baby
on his mama's tit."

"Awwww," the Scary Men cooed in unison.

His sobs now muffled beneath thirteen-inches of hard black cock, Antonio's
blubbering was barely audible as Ted Bundy Man drove his dick home with
authority. Phoebe marveled at the skillful, catlike way Ted Bundy Man
sodomized the boy, his every last muscle focused on the savage ass rape.
With each thrust of his muscular hips, Ted Bundy Man's sinewy buttocks
rippled. While Antonio's blood curdling shrieks colored the darkness, Ted
Bundy Man extracted every last bit of agony from the child's asshole.

"Lift him up," Fat Man wheezed to Phoebe. "I want to suck that little brown
prick of his."

Phoebe nodded, lifting the boy high enough off the ground to allow Fat Man
access to his tiny cock. Fat Man now sucked while Ted Bundy Man sodomized
and Black Savage choked fucked the boy.

"Shit!' Ted Bundy Man finally gasped, unable to hold back any longer. He
withdrew from Antonio's asshole and joined Black Savage at the boy's mouth.
Stroking their dicks in tandem, they synchronized their trophy shots so that
little Antonio found himself drowning in twin jets of hot cum.

Taking a moment to savor the moment, the Scary Men let loose with a hearty
cheer before resuming their campaign. Working together like a well-oiled
machine, they didn't miss a beat. As Black Savage and Ted Bundy Man stepped
aside, the Overall Men took their places. "Turn him on his back," Small
Overall Man ordered Phoebe. "Lenny likes to look 'em in the eye when he
cornholes 'em."

Phoebe did as she was instructed, spinning the bawling boy onto his back.
Large Overall Man grabbed the boy's tiny ankles and split his legs apart like
wishbone. Although Black Savage's dick may have been longer, Large Overall
Man's cock was as thick and bumpy as summer squash. By the apparent looks of
things, there was no way his mammoth tool was going to fit inside the boy's
narrow shit chute, even with the previous two rapings.

But Large Overall Man paid such considerations no heed. He just butted his
monstrous meat into the boy's broken bottom with a relentless fury that
finally, somehow allowed him to wedge the grapefruit-sized cock-head into the
boy's wrecked rectum. "See, George?" he babbled to Small Overall Man. "I
told you it would fit. It always fits, George. See, I told you."

"Yeah, you did, Lenny," Small Overall Man agreed. "You told me all right.
Now fuck that little beaner's ass while I get me some skull." He pried open
the boy's lips and buried his six-inch cock to the hilt, holding Antonio's
mouth open so that he could more fully enjoy the sights and sound of his deep
throat raping.

Readjusting to the new position, Fat Man now bent over and returned to
slurping on the boy's dick. While Antonio howled, Fat Man laughed and
started nibbling at the boy's tiny bald scrotum. "So tasty," he joked before
chomping down and crushing the boy's testicles between his teeth.

"Yeah," Phoebe hissed between mouthfuls of Aleister's relentless ramrod.
"Bite those boy balls. Eat that little dick. Listen to him scream,
Aleister," Phoebe gushed a s she sucked the demon passionately. "It's just
like my Fantasy, only better."

While Fat Man fed on the boy's testes, Antonio just cried and cried and
cried. Large Overall Man caved in the boy's ass for almost ten straight
minutes before he finally pulled out and dumped in the boy's face. Small
Overall Man then took his turn mounting the boy in the missionary position.

One hunger sated for the moment, Fat Man released the boy's shriveled nuts
from his mouth. Lifting his massive flabby form, the whale-like man waddled
up to the boy's head, kissing his small body tenderly. Then, without
warning, Fat Man sat down, plopping his entire weight on the boy's face.
Bouncing up and down like a playful whale, Fat Man let loose with about
twenty loud, wet farts before he relaxed. In seconds, long ropes of turd
began emerging from his distended anus.

"Eat that shit, boy," Prison Man ordered Antonio when the boy tried
desperately to turn his face away. To accentuate his demands, Prison Man
jabbed his billy club into the boy's abdomen, letting loose with a burst of
voltage. Blubbering, the boy relented, and began eating Fat Man's shit as
it pumped into his small mouth.

"Take that, you fucking little shit-skinned mongrel," Small Overall Man
groaned, thrilling to the feel of the boy's tight ass around his cock.
Unable to hold back any longer, Small Overall Man pulled out from the boy's
butt. His cock raining cum across the boy's smooth brown tummy.

"My turn now," Fat Man wheezed. He dismounted from the boy's suffocating
face and lay down on his flabby back. "I want to see him ride me like a
rocking horse," he told Phoebe.

Obediently Phoebe and Prison Man lifted the boy's broken body off the ground
and impaled him on Fat Man's stiff eight-inch cock. The boy slumped over,
too tired to fuck. "Do something," Phoebe pouted. "I want to see him ride
Fat Man's prick."

Prison Man smiled, then jabbed at Antonio again, the voltage inspiring the
boy to slowly begin humping up and down on Fat Man's cock. As Prison Man
continued sending jolts through the boy's body, Antonio picked up the pace
until he was bouncing up and down on Fat Man at a furious pace.

"Look at the little taco go," Bald Man rasped before stepping up to the boy
and once more brandishing his pierced, tattooed dick in the boy's face.
Antonio needed no encouragement now. His eyes were bleary with a soulless
glaze. He merely opened his tight bloody mouth and allowed Bald Man to use
it as cock slot.

Prison Man stepped up, too, now as did Scary Clown Man. In a few seconds,
they were working Antonio's mouth along with Bald Man, the three Scary Men
playing hot potato with the child's sucking, slobbering skull. One man would
power fuck the boy's mouth, then pass him to the next man, who would repeat
the process, then pass him back to another thrusting cock.

Phoebe knelt next to Fat Man, her hands pressing the back of Antonio's skull
and forcing the boy's tired mouth to take each dick thrust deeper and deeper.
Scary Clown Man was the first to blow his load, and when he did he fired
several rounds up the boy's nose then rubbed the rest of his diseased issue
over the boy's coughing face.

Bald Man was the next to go, and he beat the boy's face with his fists as
he spewed his seething spunk. Prison Man kept his nut, however, and
methodically raped every inch of the boy's mouth until Fat Man finally dumped
his scum directly into Antonio's colon.

Phoebe jumped up and down, giggling and clapping as the boy's broken body
slumped over and rolled off Fat Man's flab. With one quick movement, Scary
Clown Man now lowered his head to the writhing boy's crotch, bit down on his
tiny cock and balls, and tore off Antonio's genitals with a bloody flourish.

The boy's blood curdling shriek tore through the neighborhood. It was his
loudest scream of the night, but still not one door opened. Nor did one
curious person bother to peek out a window or even report the disturbance to
the police. Howling in agony, Antonio rolled onto his bloody stomach, his
hands desperately trying to close the wound below his waist. All the
seven-year-old child could do was whimper, though, as Prison Man straddled
him from behind.

An instant later, Prison Man's billy club snapped over the child's neck in
a chokehold. Yanking the club back, Prison Man forced Antonio to arch his
back. While the boy tried desperately to squirm away, Prison Man butted his
beefy dick-head into the boy's blasted butt-crack, grunting as his warhead
plunged deeper and deeper into the boy's stretched-out hole. Moments later,
he was power-fucking the child's spent sphincter, his every thrust tearing
deeper into Antonio's colon.

Feeling his asshole give way again and his vertebrae begin to snap, crackle
and pop, Antonio let loose with a fresh round of screams that were like music
to Phoebe's ears. She crawled right up next to the bawling boy and kissed
his ghastly face as Prison Man stomped his shit chute and crushed his neck.

"Fuck him harder," Phoebe panted, her fingers frantically strumming her clit.
"Harder... HARDER... HARDER, GOD DAMN YOU... Harder..." She kissed Antonio
again, letting the boy howl like a banshee into her sucking mouth. "That's
it, baby," she cajoled the tiny rape victim. "Ride the Scary Man's cock.
That's a good boy. Feel him FUCK YOUR tight, seven-year-old. little-boy

"Motherfucker..." Prison Man gasped, his large body pushed to its limits with
the inhuman sodomy. He slumped over the boy and with a loud belch polluted
Antonio'ss ass-pipe with a quart of his scalding cum.

"Oh, god, Aleister," Phoebe whined pitifully. "I still haven't cum yet. Oh,
god, I've got to cum... please..."

"I know what you want, darling," Aleister sneered. "I know exactly what
you've always wanted." He waved his hands over Phoebe's sopping snatch.
Suddenly a growth began to spurt from her trimmed pubes. The Scary Men
watched and grinned when they recognized the appendage sprouting from
Phoebe's twat.

"A cock..." Phoebe wept for joy. "My very own cock to rape my little
Antoni-oni-oni-oh's tight, seven-year-old ass. Oh, thank you, Aleister...
thank you, thank you, thank you... I love you soooo much."

Phoebe wept for joy as she ogled her new limb, stroking it lovingly. Her
cock measured nine rock solid inches, and it bent upward with a wicked twist.
While she rubbed it back and forth, she thrilled to the feel of each nerve
ending in its sensitive head.

"Oh, I've got to feel what it's like to get sucked," she giggled. "Come on,
Antonio, suck it." She jabbed her new prick against the boy's blubbering
mouth. "Suck Phoebe's big hard cock. Show me how much you love me. Come on,
Antonio, SUCK IT!"

As she coaxed him, she slid inch after inch between his yielding lips. Every
new nerve ending tingled with the feel of the child's tight, blood-slickened
lips as they closed around her swollen glans. "No wonder guys always want
blow jobs," she giggled while she battered against his tonsils. "Jesus, that
feels so fucking good. Suck it, bitch... suck it... suck it..." she repeated
over and over again.

"I know that feels exquisite," Aleister interrupted her ecstatic abuse. "But
you really must try fucking him. There's nothing quite like the feel of
buggering a boy's tender bottom, feeling your hot spunk pour into his tight

"How should I do it?" Phoebe asked, still thrusting inside the boy's gaping
mouth. She had her hands gripped through his hair now, her fingers clutching
at his ears. While her hips pounded into his head, her swollen balls slapped
up against the bottom of his chin with a wet whacking sound.

"May I suggest lying on your back and letting him ride astride that fine
prick of yours," Aleister offered. "This way you can look him in the eye as
you rape every last bit of love from his soul."

"Cool," Phoebe droned, pulling out of Antonio's mouth and playfully slapping
her cock across the boy's face. "Do you hear that, Antoni-oni-oni-oh. We're
gonna play horsy again, and this time you're gonna ride my cock."

The boy neither said a word nor evinced any kind of emotion. He merely
waited for Phoebe to lie on her back, then sat astride her hard cock with no
expression of terror or pain. The Scary Men had reduced the once vital young
boy into nothing more than a numb, callused husk. His shit chute stretched
completely out of shape, his ass pipe now molded onto Phoebe's dick like a
rubber glove.

In seconds, the boy just began bouncing on her dick like an automaton. When
Phoebe looked into her eyes, she saw nothing, not even one single tear. The
child didn't blink as he impaled himself on her thrusting shaft. He merely
stared ahead, his zombie-like gaze registering nothing.

Phoebe was too close to her soul-shattering cum to care, however. The feel
of the tiny boy's body as it hopped up and down on her dick sent tidal waves
of orgasmic pleasure through her body with every humping thrust. * So this
is what guys feel before they cum, * she mused to herself. The sensation was
totally different than a womanly climax.

Whereas female orgasm was all about releasing one's life essence, male orgasm
was all about taking that life away. The cum spewing from her testicles was
sheer violence, her cock a weapon. She bit down on her lip and concentrated
on the sensation, letting the testosterone-induced rage overwhelm her every
sense and faculty. "I'm going to cum..." she shuddered. "Fuck that dick,
little boy, ride that hard cock..." she babbled, the words seeming to lend
even more meaning and clarity to the experience. * It must be a GUY

While Antonio rode Phoebe to her final launch, Aleister silently motioned to
Asian Butcher. The Scary Man with the butterfly knife now silently stole up,
his blade poised and ready to strike.

"I take it the cunt's ready," a woman's voice suddenly seeped out of the

Aleister turned to the speaker and watched Lilith Magdalene emerge from the
darkness. "Yes, the witch is ready. She was easy... so easy..."

"Let's get this over with, then," Lilith licked her lips impatiently. "I'm
hungry and I need to get back to the office. We're still waiting for her
sister to show up."

Aleister nodded to Asian Butcher. The slanty-eyed Scary Man waited a moment,
gauging Phoebe's pending orgasm until she saw her eyes roll back into her
forehead and her hips start bucking furiously. He smiled, then quietly
pounced on her luscious young body.

In an instant, Asian Butcher's knife sank straight between her heaving tits.
With the skill of a surgeon, he tore open her torso and speared her heart.
After digging around for a moment, he withdrew the blade.

There, impaled at the end of his butterfly knife was a miniature version of
Phoebe Halliwell. The blade bit into the cleft between the small Phoebe's
legs. The doll-sized Phoebe squeaked like a mouse. Asian Butcher rose and
offered the prize to Lilith. The demoness grinned hungrily, opened her mouth
and bit into the fleshy soul.

In a second, Phoebe's soul was demon food. Suddenly her consciousness left
her own body, and started falling... falling... falling... forever.

Eons later Phoebe's soul landed in a pit of scalding sulfur. Indescribable
pain enveloped every last quark of her being. When she opened her eyes, she
saw that was immersed in an endless pit with trillions of other damned souls.

"Now it's your turn, cunt," a voice seared into her brain. She turned to see
Bald Man peering into her with fiery eyes. She felt herself plunge into his
gaze, then land hard. Beneath her naked body, cold ice bit into her flesh.
She scrambled to her feet, but slipped immediately, her face smacking the
ground hard.

"Hello, cunt," a chorus of voices... SCARY voices... boomed all around her.
When she looked up she saw an endless line of Scary Men surrounded her, each
one stroking a hard cock. She tried to flee, but her feet could find no
footing on the sheer icy surface. Her feet kicking desperately, she felt a
coil wrap around her neck.

Suddenly, her precognitive powers were unleashed to their full extreme.
The rest of Eternity became one endless vision where she could see and feel
nothing but the ceaseless raping of her immortal soul. "Nooooo..." she
wailed until the end of time.

"Welcome to HELL!" the Abyss responded.


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