Editor's note: this work contains scenes of incest or incest content.
Cast of Characters
Warlocks
Mark Glassner -- Mary Sullivan
Sex Slaves "The Sluts"
Alison -- Desiree Fitzsimmons -- Xiu -- Korina -- Fiona -- Violet -- Lillian -- Nurse Thamina -- Karen (Sister Louise Afra) -- Jessica St. Pierre, Reporter -- Agent Noel Heinrich, FBI -- Dr. Willow WolfTail -- April
Demons
Lucifer -- Lilith -- Marduk
The Cult of Lilith
Lana -- Chantelle
Sisters of Mary Magdalene
Mother Superior MaryΔm -- Sister Theodora Mariam -- Archangel Gabriel -- Dominion Ramiel (Angel) -- Sister Agnes Chibuzo -- Sister Isabella Cecillia -- Doug Allard -- Tina Allard
Other
Brandon Fitzsimmons -- Antsy (Mark's Sister) -- Alice -- Sandy (Mark's Mother) -- Sean (Mary's Father) -- Shannon (Mary's Older Sister) -- Missy (Mary's Younger Sister) -- George (Shannon's Fiance)-- Damien (Missy's Boyfriend) -- Felicity (Sean's Slut) -- Joy (Sandy Slut) -- Avialle (Antsy's Slut) -- Samnag Soun (Grad Student NYU) -- Rachel -- Leah -- Jacob
Chapter One
The Mother Superior was generous in her mercy to Brandon Fitzsimmons, a lesson she hoped he would learn. The man, who would stylize himself the God-King in a few months, fled Rennes-le-ChΓ’teau. He had his chance to turn his back on evil. The choice all men are given. Brandon did more than choose evil--he embraced it.
--excerpt from
The History of the Tyrants' Theocracy
, by Tina Allard
Saturday, June 22nd, 2013 -- Doug Allard -- Toulouse, France
A strange nervousness seized me as the cab pulled up to the front of the Toulouse-Blagnac Airport. My wife would be arriving from the States. The both of us were changed, Gifted powers. Mother Superior MaryΔm assured me Tina was on her way, guided by Providence. Sister Catherine Sarah had transformed my wife into a nun.
The same way I had been transformed into a monk. I now possessed the Gift of the Spirit.
But would I recognize Tina? Would she recognize me? When Mark Glassner, the Warlock with the powers to control people with his words, sent me to France to stop my former employer, I was a middle-aged man, overweight from a life spent as a private investigator. Stakeouts in cars and eating cheap fast food did not help my gut. Now I looked eighteen, fitter than I had been in high school, my body strong with youth, my muscles coordinated.
I knew how to fight. I had been taught in my dreams by the angel Sophia. With a word, I could summon a celestial gold sword and armor, a weapon capable of harming any demonic flesh. I was a warrior now, charged with protecting the original copy of the Magicks of the Witch of Endor.
I patted my laptop bag, the carry on I had brought with me from the states. I felt the impression of the scroll case through the fabric. I kept touching it. I swallowed and slipped the driver a wad of euros before climbing out onto the sidewalk.
A plane roared overhead. I looked around, unsure where I should go. I did not know what flight my wife was arriving on from the States. I didn't even know the airline she flew on. I strode into the terminal, people bustling around me, an announcer speaking in first French than accented English.
Providence would guide me. I had to trust it.
I closed my eyes and turned in a low circle, my feet shuffling. I lost my bearing after a few turns. I was sure I must look dump. No doubt people stared thinking, "One of those dumb Americans." When it felt right, I stopped and looked up.
I faced a ticket counter. There was no line, unlike the ones on either side. A bored, slim man with dark hair and a pencil mustache played with his smart phone. His eyes flicked up every few moments, making sure he didn't have to work. I marched to him with confidence.
His eyes took one look at me. "Do you have a reservation, Monsieur?" he asked, a nasal pitch to his tone.
My stomach clenched. I didn't. "Yes. Doug Allard."
"Let me see, Monsieur," he said, slipping his phone into his pocket. He typed on his screen, his eyebrows furrowing. "Yes, yes, here you are. To Tel Aviv."
"Israel?" I blurted out in shock.
The man looked up at me. "Is that not correct, Monsieur?"
"No, no. Just...tired. Long trip."
The man nodded, then looked around. "And your...wife?"
"Wife?"
The man's eyebrows furrowed deeper, shadowing his eyes. "Yes, yes. A second ticket. For a Tina Allard. Is she, perhaps, a relative? A, um, mother or sister?"
"Doug?" a woman asked, her voice hesitant.
I turned my head. A young woman stood there, eighteen, slim, lovely, face without blemish. My wife was never a beauty queen, but the creature before me would have been the prom queen at her high school, the center of attention.
"Tina?" I gaped.
She rushed to me and threw her arms around my neck. Her lips were on me in a flash as her youthful body pressed against mine. Flashes of the Mother Superior's and Sister Frances Joan's nubile bodies appeared in my mind. The Mother Superior had slept with me to exorcise me from Mark's control, and Sister Frances Joan made love to me to give me her Gift.
I didn't feel any guilt for breaking my marriage vows. Making love to those two women were special, holy events.
My cock throbbed as Tina's kiss deepened, her tongue pressing against mine as her right hand slid around, rubbing at my muscular body beneath. An excited purr burst from her lips as she clearly enjoyed the changes to my body as much as I enjoyed hers.
I slid my hand down and squeezed her ass. She had the Gift, too. She had made love to Sister Catherine Sarah to receive it.
"Your wife, Monsieur?" asked the young man.