Date: Sun, 27 Jun 2021 09:27:35 +0200 From: roby bobby Subject: the-devil-lives-in-paris/the-devil-lives-in-paris-7 This story contains graphic sexual scenes between males under 18. If material of this nature offends you then you should not read this story. Additionally, if you are under 18 years of age in most states, the state may have forbidden you from reading this story by law. Please understand this is a work of fiction. The actions described in the story are not real nor encouraged or condoned in real life. It's fiction, folks, and remember that, please. While most of the locations are real places in the real world, all the characters are absolutely fictional and any reference or resemblance to real people, living or dead, is purely coincidental or just functional to the plot. Feedbacks welcome at de182tg@gmail.com. I'm not native English speaker, so please be kind to me! Thank you! *** The Devil Lives in Paris *** – Part 7 Paris, France – 24 October 2020 I open my eyes with difficulty. This time I don't wake up in a dark and cold place: a soft light illuminates an elegantly furnished room. I don't feel cold, but neither is it hot, honestly. It is like when in the middle of winter you go out on the balcony to smoke a cigarette while it is snowing, and when you go back inside you feel the warmth of the environment around you, but you are still cold as an icecle... I am lying on a sofa, naked as the day I was born. With an inhuman effort I slowly raise myself up on my elbows, looking around. And I see Him. And all the memories of my past come back to me... painfully. It is Him, De Vil, my new Father. He is completely naked, with his sculptured, muscular body glistening with sweat. I can't help but admire the beauty of it, with all the muscles in full evidence under his black skin, taut and flawless. He is in front of me, sitting with his legs open on an antique armchair, covered in leather and looking like a throne. His cock is hard, huge, a thick, 12-inches of hard, throbbing column of black flesh that points straight up. My new brothers, two black boys, twins and about 13 years of age, are with him. It takes a minute or two to me to process the memory of when they had sex with me and Vlad. I instinctively touch my cock and give it a tug. He reacts and starts to lift the little bald head that can think of one only thing ... I look at it just to make sure it is still there, in one piece... I see it's pale, white as a corpse. Under my hand I feel its familiar consistency, and a faint warmth of living flesh... or resurrected flesh... I don't know yet, I haven't fully understood what I am, what I've become. One of the twins is kneeling between our Father's legs, his muscular, round ass resting on his heels. He seems to be busy licking De Vil's balls as he wanks his coal-black cock with one hand and strokes his own cock with the other, which I can't see, however. The other one is sitting on De Vil, face to face, the chest of one pressed against that of the other. The African's big hands caress the boy's back and further down, finally pressing on the boy's ass. The two are kissing passionately, their mouths open, their rosy tongues dancing together, joined by thin strands of spit. Fuck, it's hot... fucking hot, if you ask me. The first twin now turns his full attention to the black cock towering in front of him. With his flattened tongue out, he begins to lick the underside of the shaft with gusto, up and down, slowly, accompanying the movements of his soft tongue in sync with those of his long black hands. De Vil's cock is so thick that the boy's hands can barely encircle it. I remember when it breached into Vlad's 9-year-old tight ass... I can't believe it happened... Suddenly, the boy seems to notice his brother's asshole on display in front of his mouth. Without ceasing to wank De Vil's colossal cock, the boy begins to lick and penetrate the hot hole, gradually spreading it with his tongue rolled up first, and with two fingers later, well lubed with spit. Two fingers soon become three and then four. De Vil pulls his hands away and spreads the buttocks of the boy sitting on him and I watch in disbelief as the second twin plunges his whole hand and all of his forearm into his brother's ass and starts to slowly fist-fuck him. In and out his arm goes, stretching his brother's ass ring, filling his colon with his arm and preparing him for De Vil's humongous cock. At this point my cock is as hard as ever, it has also acquired a faint rosy colour, it seems almost back to life... I feel warmer and warmer as well, as if warm blood finally started to flow through my cold body again. "Oh, Drago, my son! You are finally awake... welcome back to us at last! It was time for you to wake up and join your new family" De Vil tells me. Then, to the twins "The Seeder is back among us, sons. While I renew my love oath to Andras, you Bael shall welcome your new brother back to our dark world" "I know where I am and I remember everything you said to me, Father. But where is my son Vlad? What about him? When will I be able to see and hug him again?" I'm full of questions and De Vil stops me. "Soon, Drago, soon. Look ..." De Vil waves a hand in front of him and, suspended in the air like a pale cloud, I see a projection of Vlad sitting in a police car as it whizzes through traffic with blaring sirens. The image disappears and I would like to ask De Vil a thousand more things, but he tells me to wait for our guests and in the meantime have fun with my new brother Bael... As if I could tell one twin from the other... Meanwhile, Bael pulls his arm out of his brother Andras's ass. I see him grab his Father's colossal cock and aim its fat head at his brother's gaping hole. Andras slowly lets himself go down on De Vil's cock, impaling himself with a deep sigh on the hard, coal-black cock. I watch in awe at the tight ass ring slowly stretches over his... ehm.. our... Father's thick cock. The head sinks in and Andras gasps out loud, but he doesn't stop. I find it funny when our Father says him to hurry up "as we do not have eternity available, son..." as if the Devil himself could be in a hurry... De Vil grabs Andras by the hips and pulls him down, while pushing his hips up: in a blink of an eye the colossal cock is buried deep inside the black boy. Balls deep, that's it. From where I'm sitting, I can clearly see Andras's ass stretched out beyond belief, wrapped on the thick root of our Father's humongous cock. Meanwhile Bael, looking straight into my eyes, has approached me, walking on all fours and wiggling his little black ass like a model on the catwalk . When he is finally between my legs, I expect him to start sucking my balls and cock like he just did to our Father. But no, apparently he has other ideas... he grabs my ankles and pulls my legs up, pushing backward until my knees almost touch my chest. I understand what he wants to do and I hug my legs tightly. Bael spreads my buttocks with his hands and, without too much ado, sinks his long tongue into my ass. Strange, I think ... here I'm with the Devil himself and his acolytes... and indeed I'm one of his acolytes as well... but I feel like I'm in heaven as my asshole tightens on my black brother's darting tongue and I start moaning for the intense pleasure. Without bothering to stop fucking his son in the ass, De Vil looks at me over Andras's shoulders and smiles, telling me that I'll be next to taste his Beast. I think it's going to be hard, but the thought of his colossal cock breaking my ass turns me on... a lot, really. My cock begins to drip pre-cum and I finally feel a warm, humid and enveloping warmth. I'm alive again. ************ Guerchard drives his Paris Metropolitan Police service car as if it were on autopilot: his body reacts to all traffic stimuli, his hands move nimbly between the steering wheel and the gear lever, his feet always know what to do at the right time ... brake ... accelerate ... press the clutch. But his mind is completely busy, saturated with the words spoken by little Vlad half an hour earlier: "He is fine where he is ... He says not to worry about him. Old fart is happy and at peace, little scoundrel." Nobody, absolutely nobody could have known the nicknames that his twin brother, Jean, and he used to go by. And Jean is dead. He died by his side, way back in 1979. How.the.fuck. could Vlad know? And the story of the star-shaped mole? Want to talk about it? Guerchard didn't usually go around showing his ass around ... how the fuck could Vlad know? Only De Vil, perhaps, had an answer... Traffic is becoming more and more intense. Obviously ... rarely in October there is such a hot and bright Sunday afternoon, and people flocked around the city ... those who walk among the boulevards and those who enjoy pastis and pastries sitting outside a café with their partner, those who have led the children to run and play in the parks and those who apparently drive aimlessly from one part of the city to the other, driven by nothing but the desire to leave the house for a while. Guerchard turns on the siren and the flashing lights and moves quickly through the traffic, heading for the Galérie De Vil. Vlad is sitting next to him, silent, tied with a seat belt designed for an adult police officer, certainly not for an overweight nine-year-old boy. His emerald green eyes are fixed on the adult next to him, busy driving. Vlad can feel his agitation, his confusion ... Inside his head, a child's voice repeats "Don't worry, my friend ... we'll meet again soon and finally I'll be able to hug again my little scoundrel..." Finally, and remarkably so, without killing anyone Guerchard reaches the Pont Des Arts, crosses the Seine and quickly heads towards the Galérie. Fortunately, he finds a free parking space right in front of the entrance. He parks the service car and turns off the engine. His hands are wet with sweat and tremble slightly. As he turns to look at little Vlad, he notices something strange around them... It is as if time has stopped... everything around them is... it is like the frame of a film that is paused. Guerchard has the impression of looking at a photo, but in 3D. Or rather, it's like being inside a 3D photo: people are still, some with their arm in mid-air while they bring a cup of coffee to their lips, others fixed in the gesture of greeting someone ... the birds are still, up in the sky or flying around a tree, similar to butterflies stuck with pins in an exhibition of insects at the museum. Even the leaves carried by the wind are static, sucked into small whirlwinds towards the sky or gently placed on the face of a young lady bothered by the wind. Wind that no longer blows, however. The only sound Guerchard hears is the throb of his blood in his ears. Obviously he does not understand what is happening around them, the only thing that matters to him is to find De Vil and squeeze the truth out of him. "Vla... Vlad?... V L A D ! What on earth are you doing?" Vlad has already got out of the car and approached a couple, probably a mother and a daughter, motionless on the pavement, like statues of flesh and blood instead of hard stone. The boy stands in front of the girl, apparently a pre-teen with a flat chest, and begins to make strange noises and funny faces, trying to understand if she is all a fake. Obviously the girl doesn't blink, stuck in the "Pause" while she was probably talking to her mother about something important to her. Guerchard looks with horror as Vlad lifts the girl's skirt and, with a firm tug, lowers her panties up to mid-thigh, appreciating the sight of a small, immature pussy. "Vlad! V L A D !!! What the fuck do you think you're doing? You... you can't... you can't undress a girl on the street! " "But she doesn't notice it, she is... she is like the sleeping princess of fairy tales..." "It doesn't matter if she notices it or not, Vlad... put her panties back now! And come on, I want to find De Vil, not to waste time with a perverted little child!" "I'm not prev... pervre... pervertreted... I'm just curious... I've never seen a naked girl before..." Vlad is about to cry, but he puts everything back in place, not before one last furtive glance at the little girl's hairless pussy. Then, taken by the hand by Guerchard, he follows him towards the entrance of the Galérie. La Galérie is deserted and the first sensation Vlad and Guerchard get is of an oppressive heat. As the Commissaire looks around, Vlad runs to the stairs and rushes up to the first floor. "Vlad! VLAD!... stop the fuck! Where are you going? Stop... Come... Back... Now!... V L A A A D !!!" But it is too late and the pudgy boy has already disappeared at the top of the stairs with an unexpected speed. Guerchard looks around, his gaze captured by the near life-size painting of a black boy, naked and completely hairless, kneeling on his left leg and holding a primitive spear in his right hand... and a frightening feeling of dejà-vu assails him, along with an increasingly oppressive heat wave. ********* This episode contained a grateful homage to Nicholson Baker's book "The Pause". ********* Now that I'm a "junior" author I understand how important it is for a writer to receive your feedbacks, kind reader. So, everytime I read something on Nifty that I like, now I take my time to reach out for a "thank you" to the author: please do the same, emails are for free and we live (almost) for your appreciation. Thank you to all of you that have provided a feedback! Please keep Nifty alive, donate to http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html ... Seriously, do it. My stories on Nifty (all written 'mostly' in English): https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/incest/little-alex/ https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/young-friends/little-alex-friends https://www.nifty.org/nifty/bisexual/incest/little-alex-jenny-and-the-machine https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/sf-fantasy/a-romanian-in-paris/ https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/incest/grampa-will-journey-to-arkansas/ https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/incest/the-devil-lives-in-paris/ https://www.nifty.org/nifty/bestiality/little-alex-furry-friends/ https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/adult-youth/il-commissario-bellandi/