Date: Mon, 22 Feb 2021 00:16:12 +0000
From: encolpius1@protonmail.com
Subject: Devil's Hollow 6

			      DEVIL'S HOLLOW
				    By
				 Encolpius


DISCLAIMER:  This story contains elements of theistic Satanism

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					SIX

	Paul stood at the tree line calling for his wife for a long time.
Long after he stopped yelling, he stood.  Waiting.  Waiting for her or one
of the children to emerge from the forest.  But no one came.  But he
thought he couldn't spend another night here.  He couldn't bear dreaming of
Aamon ravishing his wife.  They had ony had sex sporadically and none
recently.  She was frustrated and unsatisfied and he knew it.  He had to
think of dirty, taboo, evil thoughts of young boys, of the kiddie porn
videos he has seen in order to complete the act.  But she was his wife and
he did love her even if not sexually attracted to her His children, too,
were in the forest and now gone from him.  He did love them and hated that
he had brought them here only to be seduced into evil from the dark forces.
In just a few short days, everything had come undone, the whole carefully
worked out implicit family compomise.

	To go in was to die, Paul thought.  Turning his back on it all.  He
would have to give up everything.  He couldn't even rescue them without the
jeopardy of his own soul.  He had to choose.  Going in after them and never
emerging from the darknes or walking away and going toward the light alone,
still struggling with all the base instincts that had brought them here to
begin with.  He wondered briefly why the boy - the devil - hadn't come for
him first.  Surely he knew Paul's weakness.

	Slowly, reluctantly, he went and pcked a bag and got into the truck
and left.  Turning left out of the church yard, he drove through the small
little town whose beauty belied it's evil and across the bridge to go up
and out of the hollow. He drove mile after mile, trapped in his own
thoughts.  His own regrets.  The temptations he felt.  The loss of so much
of his life.  The road, wedged between mountains and the river on his
right, went on and on, further it seemed that it had when they drove the
other way earlier in the week.  He rounded a curve he didn't remember and
then another and gave it little thought, trapped in his own thoughts.

	Up ahead, on the right, was the church.

	It was in even sadder disrepair than it had been with one of the
corners of the foundation having crumbled and that corner partially
collapsed.  The camper, their brief home, was an overgrown and rusty shell.
He pulled in and parked and got out of the truck, a man defeated.  He
looked around and saw nothing but defeat.  Suddenly in a fit of rage he
screamed toward the woods, a loud aminal cry of distress and hatred and
anger.  He stood there dejected, his anger spent until it rose again and he
yelled some more.  When the futility of that was plain, he drove back into
town and pulled into the liqour store and parked.  As he entered the store,
a shelf of rum was in front and he grabbed a big bottle and went to pay for
it.

	"I wondered when you would be back" Preacher Joe said.

	Paul stared at him with blank eyes.  "How long has it been?"

	"Time has little meaning here, You do get used to it. A day for you
is a year for me and then a day for me is a year for you."  he said shaking
his head.  "And it's like the song says: 'you can check out but you can
never leave'"

	"So we are all prisoners here?"

	"No.  Everybody here but you is here willingly And I predict you
will be too, pretty soon.  Go back to where you were, the last place you
felt hope and see what happens.  Take the bottle. It's free.  Try not to
die of alcohol poisning.  What has to happen will happen"

	Paul looked dwon and away. "Can I die of alcohol poisoning?"

	"I don't know" Preacher Joe said.  "You won't though"

	Paul took the bottle and left.  Back at the church, he half
expected the family to be there, things to be restored but the sad,
depressing tumbled down state was still like it was.  There was a heavy
gloom over it despite the bright sunshine all around the green gold of the
mountains framing the scene.  It was sad and picturesque.  As he began to
drain the bottle, the sharp taste of alcohol on his inexperienced tongue
biting, he expected Aamon, the golden haired bronze boy to emerge from the
woods to taunt him.  One chug lead to a second.  He was warm all over.
Soon, he felt free and loose.  A third and he began to feel angry.  He
raged at the tree line.  He yelled at the boy.  For stealing his family.
For stealing his wife.  For stealing his future.  For stealing his hope.
For stealing his faith.

	"You have left me nothing, you devil!.  You are evil incarnate!
The thief.  You devour everything.  Liar and cheat and the very snake that
caused all the grief and war and sin and violencce and death in the world.
I condemn you!  I cast you out in the name of Jesus Christ!"  he screamed
at the woods.

	Another chug and he sank to the ground, sobbing.

	It was hard to get up.  The world was moving.  Nothing was certain.
An all devouring depression fell over him.  A black darkness.  He stumbled
around, walking serpentine and hesitantly from one place to the next.  He
looked over the sad failure of his life.  One last chug, the bottle half
drained, and he stepped into the woods.  He stumbled drunkenly over a
fallen fence post and fell onto the leaf and straw covered ground hard.
The bottle hadn't spilled a drop.  He picked himself up.

	There was a naked boy standing.  Short, small, golden haired. He
was slightly built. He had an erection.  Paul's eyes went immediately for
the crotch, an involunary response.  He had just begun puberty.  He was
beautiful.

	"I'm drunk" Paul said

	The boy smiled.  He reached out his hand. "Can I?"

	"Why not? You're the devil" Paul said, handing him the bottle.

	The boy tilted it up and drained off half of what remained and
handed it back.  "It's just water" he said

	Paul put it to his lips and it was just water.  He realized he was
actually perfectly liucid.  Lucid despite the hallucination around him.

	The boy smiled and nodded his head for them to go.  He led the way
and Paul fell in behind him, admiring the boy's ass, firm and ripe.

	"It is real.  At least real enough.  I guess there is a gray area
between reality and non-reality and we all exist there but I don't guess it
matters.  It is real enough for you and me.  Even if you are drunk you came
in willingly and are following me and that's important but you're not there
yet.  I could have come for you first..  It might would have been logical
but logic isn't necessary here.  You have protected yourself from yourself
for so long, it was better to be indirect.  But you are going to have to
choose between the thing you want and the thing holding back from being
happy"

	"Get thee behind me Satan" Paul said firmly "I will not choose
evil.  I will not serve you"

	"I am not Satan but I am high up and special among his followers.
The ancients knew of me, of the me that has gone before, as the Incubus and
as the Succubus.  I guess in the modern world they would call me
transgendered" Aamon said wtih a laugh.  "Non-binary at least"

	Paul stopped.  "This far and no farther"

	Aamon turned.  "The God you serve is evil.  The plagues on Egupt,
the wrath, the vengeance. The restrictions.  Think about it.  Leave your
family, your parents, your children and follow after Him.  The lake of
fire, casting you out.  He is needy, greedy, narcissistic.  He demands
constant praise, constant adulation.  You have to give up yourself to
follow Him.  You have to turn your back on natural human interaction.  It's
better to marry than to burn It's actually better to be free and to be
intimate and to share.  To give and receive tha greatest pleasrue of all.
Yahweh is evil.  He is.  My master is about freedom.  Magic.
Possibilities.  Love and sharing.  Yahweh brings dealth and disease and
torment in order to bully you into believing him.  No one has to die here.
If, after a long life, they wish to go on to what is next, they do.  Some
never have.  There has to be no disease, no torment, no anger.  All of it
was invented by Yahweh.  So, come on if you want or leave.  If you leave,
you leave forever and this place is gone for you, never to return.  But the
Lord Satan doesn't want you hurt.  It will be as if nothing ever happened.
The ones you leave behind will never have existed in your world or
consciousness.  Or you can stay.  It's your choice"

	Paul stared at thim. He was beautiful and alluring and he knew it
was a trap but he couldn't walk away.  He nodded and Aamon led on.  The
boy's ass was perfect.

	"What's happened to my family?"  Paul asked

	Aamon stopped and turned to look at him. "I expected that"

	He was in the yard of a house, an old clap bouard house wth a
gabled roof.  In the back garden, a muscular young man with a close cropped
black beard and black chest hair on his shirtless torso was setting post
holes.  Paul recognized him instantly. It was Trip.  He looked up and saw
them.  A look of disbelief on his face and then he dropped the post hole
diggers and ran toward.

	"Dad!"  he cried, throwing his arms around him.  "I'm glad you came
back!  Man, it's realy good to see you"

	"Looks like a lot's happened" Paul said

	"Yeah, to us.  Maybe not to you" Trip said.  "But it's all
good. Aamon, take him to see Mom.  She'd like to see him.  Even if it
hurts, Dad.  She has two husbands now.  They are good guys and they care
about her.  They give her what she needs"

	Paul looked down, sorrowful.  He had hoped a little that Jena would
have mourned him some. "And you?"

	Trup nodded.  "It's totally cool but it's weird.  It's me and
another guy and 5 women but we all totally get along and, I don't know, it
works out.  The oldest one is 120 years old, if you can believe it.  And
she is smoking too.  I know you're gay and all but, man, she is hot."

	A black haired boy came out of the house.  He was shirtless, lean
and boyish, in shorts, his skinny hairless legs in constant motion.  He was
no more than 9 years old.  He came up to Trip and got beside him, shyly
pressed up against the man.

	"Dad, this Chemosh.  My oldest.  He was born, I guess, about a year
after you left" Trip said "Chemosh this your grandfather"

	The boy stuck out his fist for Paul to bump. "Hello" he said in a
high pitched child voice.

	"I'm glad you're happy son" Paul said

	"I totally am.  I guess I ought to thank you for bringing us here."
Trip siad "Listen, Aamon's got to do his thing.  I don't know the whole
theology of it but, trust me, converting to the Lord Satan is not bad at
all! When it's all done, come by and have dinner.  I'd like you to met
everyone"

	"I'd like that" Paul said

	As he turned and walked away, Paul looked at the young man Trip had
become without him.  At the son he was raising.  In opposition to
everything Paul had ever believed in and was happy despite it all.  Then he
found himelf in the woods in a dark and gloomy spot near a cabin.

	"And Jena?"  Paul asked

	"You're not ready for that. She is happy.  A full member of the
community.  But now it's your turn to make a choice" Aamon said

	"I guess it should be clear what choice I am making" Paul said

	"The Lord Satan is best honored when you are most human.  Yahweh
doesn't really want you to have pleasure and true intimacy because it takes
from him the attention that he thinks he deserves.  But your new lord knows
that you are never closer to him than when you orgasm"

	The boy's skin was soft like velvet.  They were in the bed, both
naked and both hard, the boy bathed in a golden light Paul could see that
he had no tan line, like he spent most of his life naked.  His crotch was
decidedly male, a perfect cock and balls in miniature, the hard cock with
it's pink red glans poking out from the foreskin, pointing up toward his
flat, wiry torso to his beardless chin.  Paul, naked, was covered in hair:
his pubes, his legs, his pits, his chest and even some unshaved scruff on
his face.  The boy, but for the golden wavy hair on his head, was clean.
Paul's cock throbbed, seeing him.  Hesitantly, he reached and put a hand on
the boy's hardness.

	Aamon giggled and wiggled away.  "Everybody wants tthat!  And it
doesn't even do anything!"

	Paul was stunned.  He jerked away. "It doesn't feel good?"

	"Pow.  I shoot you!" he said, pointing his erection toward Paul.
Then he cuddled up next to Paul and ran his small hand through his chest
hair and kissed him, open mouth planted on open mouth.  "I like being a
little boy.  This is what I am when it's just me.  I wish more people
needed me this way because it's fun.  I like this.  I like that you need me
this way.  Just for right now, i can be your special boy.  But you don't
have to be shy.  I'm big and I'm tough.  I'n rough and tough.  And it
doesn't do anything except make me feel good.  Except pee"

	He angled his short thin dick toward Paul and a full thick stream
of golden water coursed from it, hitting Paul on the torso, Aamon wiggled
it like a firehorse and the stream coated his crotch, piss dripping off his
hard dick.  Paul closed his eyes and bathed in the warm liquid, nearly
cumming from that alone.  He stroked his piss covered dick, the thin liquid
providing some minimal lubrication.

	Aamon gave a deep belly laugh and rolled all the way over and back,
choking on laughter and scooted back toard him.

	"Suck my big dick, piss pot!"  he said, spurring himself to further
laughter.

	"It's not so big" Paul said

	"It's big enough!  Pow! Pow1 Pow!"  Paul put his perfect hardness
between his lips and almost shot his load right then but felt the power of
the boy in his mind holding him back, only gradually ramping up the
pleasurable releases of dopamine in his pleasure centers of his mind.  His
hardness between his lips and Paul wrapped his tongue around him "Oh yeah.
I like that!  That's good!"

	He sucked on his small balls as Aamon clenched his cock in hand,
perfect sized for jacking and did it as Paul sucked on the balls and licked
his hairless taint.  He arched his back and wiggled a little as Paul
pleasured him.  He took the balls out of his mouth and licked up the shaft
of it, his hands rubbing up the lenght of his torso, lena and undeveloped
to this senistive brown bipples.  Aamon sighed and Paul kept going.

	"Uhhhh" Aamon whimperd.  His whole body was tense and he was
panting.  He was able to strangle out one last thing as he had a boygasm,
"Hail Lord Satan!"

	"Hail Lord Satan" Paul said

	Aamon grinned.  "I like that the best!  It's my favorite"

	"I'm very glad.  I've wanted to do that with a boy for so very
long.  So very long but I didn't want to exploit a boy or molest ..."

	Aaom looked at him with open an dloving eyes.  He still had the
high pitced voice a boy "Have no fear.  Not here.  The right man and the
right boy and it's the most beautiful coupling of all.  And when you lose
control, you won't hurt me.  I promise"

	Aamon lenaed up and over and grabbed Paul's hard cock, grinning
devilishly.  He got into a good position and then took it down his throat.
It was, in Paul's limited experince, a masterful and skilled blow job.
Less than 4 1/2 feet tall and 65 pounds wet but Aamon took him to the root.
Paul, lost in the sensation so remakable and so amazingg that he could
barely take it, didn't think about that.  He just enjoyed it.  And it felt
so good.

	"Ohhh, this is perfect" Paul said in a low moan.

	Aamon moved up and down on him, this tongue and lipsa dnt eh
sucktion of his mouth and the drip of his small hand, pleasuring him.  Paul
slowly began to move it up and down in the boy's mouth, ever so slightly.
Aamon worked the head and Paul whimpered a bit.  Nothing he had ever
experienced - certainly nothing with Jena - could match or compare It felt
great.

	"You can fuck me" Aamon said, coming off his dick.

	"Are you sure?"

	"Of course, silly"

	Paul was on his back and Aamon hovered above him and thnn sat on
the hard dick, Paul feeling the sensation of bare skin against bare skin in
the tightest of holes and far tighter than Jena's vagina, while facing
foward toward him.  He stayed hard as he rested on Paul's crotch If there
was pain, Aamon didn't show it.  He seemed bright eyed and happy as he
began to rock back and forth on him. He stoked his small hard dick.  Paul
clasped him by his hips as Aamon moved.  He wanted to fling him up and down
on his dick but he was a little too heavy for that.

	Aamon was furiously jacking himself "I'm going to cum!"  he cried
out

	He settled back on Paul's lap and stopped bobbung up and down but
did shift his weight around, keeping hte dick moving inside him.  His whole
body was tense and his face screwed up tight and his eyes closed sas he
flailed on his little cocklet.

	He forced out a cry "Uuuhhh"

	Then he relaxed and smiled.  He laughed.

	"Do you want to stop?" Paul asked.  He knew that when men came,
they were done. He wasn't sure about boys, much less demons.

	"No!"  Aamon said "This is the best!"

	He started moving back and to on Paul's still rock hard dick and
Paul had to admit that fucking a boy was the best.  Simply the best.  The
greatest sensation in the world.  Slight, small and sexy, he drank in the
sight of Aamon riding him, still acking his own hard little dck, smiling
and telling Paul how much he loved it.  But he began to ramp it up and Paul
began having trouble breathing.  It felt too good.  But as soon as the
thought entered his mind that what he wanted to do was hold Aamon down and
fuck him hard from behind, Aamon rolled of of him and onto the bed.  At
first, Paul was confused and disappointed.  He was so close.  Surely he
wouldn't stop now.  Aamon got on his hands and knees, his back arched.

	"Do it" he said "Fuck me"

	Wordlessly, Paul got up and over him, angling his dick down and
pushed it in as gently as he could muster, not wanting to hurt the boy and
split open his tight little ass.

	'Fuck me!"  Aamon said "Fuck me hard!"

	Paul fucked him.  Despite what the boy said, he was hesitant to
just let it go.  But it felt so good.

	:Fuck me!  Fuck me harder!"

	Paul grabbed the boys hips and rammed it in him, hard and savage.
The kid sighed.  He loved it.  Paul railed on his ass, giving himself up to
his lust completely.  Dirty, nasty, taboo, forbidden, lustful.  Paul
reveled in it.  It was more delicious for that, the greatest thing he had
ever felt, a perfect coupling, man and boy.  It was everything he had ever
longed for And the boy loved it.  He was jacking himself and pushing back
on Paul's hard dick, trying to get it even deeper into him.  Then Paul
couldn't control it anymore.  He railed on it, hard, fast and furious.

	One last stroke and he unloaded.  "Hail Lord Satan!"  Paul cried
out, convinced now and sincere

	Aamon rolled over and stroked himself until he boygasmed a third
time.  "Hail Lord Satan!:"