D.P.S. Sex Scandal
folder
Erotica › General
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
1
Views:
9,140
Reviews:
11
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Erotica › General
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
1
Views:
9,140
Reviews:
11
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of characters to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The Author holds exclusive rights to this work. Unauthorized duplication is prohibited.
D.P.S. Sex Scandal
Author’s Note: This story belongs to me, as well as most elements and characters found within. Any likeness to actual people, places and events, is purely coincidental. Without further adieu, enjoy the wanton smut.
Prolouge
The comforting hands of the wind caress my body as I dashed across the rooftops of Paris, France. Jumping from roof to roof, my landing shook the foundations of the structures I land on. The year is 1845, my name is Garithe, a powerful incubus. I was the ruler of this city’s streets, gathering my powers from these mortal whores. I judged not by creed nor race nor age, all I craved was their beauty, all I lusted for, was their body. The voices grow closer now even though I fled with all my might.
“There he is! After him!!”
“Don’t let it get away!!”
“Burn that damned Demon!!”
Funny isn’t it? Those who I considered to be the ones at the bottom of the food chain, now hunt me like I was some mongrel on these damned streets. Now, seems as though half the city was after me. Yes, I, a powerful Incubus, ran for my dreary existence. It was all the fault of that damned priest, luring me into his little trap and almost destroyed all my power. The Key word there is: Almost. I managed to escape before he could snuff out the last of my dark magic. My eye’s glowed dark blue in the moonlight, my clothes, tattered and charred from the pursuit. I leapt once more into the air, the Eiffel tower standing in the background before I landed on top of the next building, leaving a neat little crater. I stood up straight calmly, walking to the center of the building. It was him, I could feel it.
“Come out, Pienne” my voice said imperiously, “Come out you fucking priest!!”
Almost as if on cue, that all too familiar face stood a dozen meters in front of me. Fr. Antonio Pienne was an Exorcism Agent of the Vatican. That’s just another fancy way of saying demon hunter. We had clashed several times in the recent past, all of which ending in him just barely escaping with his life. But now, the mortal bastard turned the tables on me by somehow discharging me of my magic. Now, one unsaid law bred into all demons is to never underestimate a demon hunter. Hard to remember as I look into the eye’s of this balding little man. But one has to keep in mind, little or not, he scaled these roofs and got ahead of me.
“Garithe, you dared to have tainted this land with your poison” he began as if preaching a homily. “Now, God will discharge you back to the pits of which you slithered out of.”
“Really? I’d like to see you try.” I replied, morphing back from my human to my true form. Magic or none, I still had my strength.
I now stood an imperious 8 feet over the priest, fangs barred and claws at the ready. My horns sprouted idly from either side of my forehead, pointing towards behind me. My eye’s glowed a violent dark blue, clashing with my spiny, armored dark skin, clothes being ripped apart by the transformation, reducing my pantaloons into a loincloth over my private parts. I hunched over, my tail snaking in the air, before lunging at the priest with a mighty roar.
The priest materialized a revolver from out of nowhere, unloading 3 rounds into my air born body. The bullets pierced mein the air, making me lose my balance. The priest then easily sidestepped as I flew past him, crumpling on the ground. I staggered to stand up after a moment, feeling the burning holes on my shoulder and chest.
“Silver…” I managed to growl before a boot to my face sent me flying across the adjacent rooftop.
“Holy Silver.” Pienne corrected after leaping after me, then slowly walking towards me. “And the boot tip was carved from drift wood preserved under the sands of the River Jordan. Now Garithe, The Lord works through me, go back to the inferno, demon, He commands you!”
He was now standing next to my fallen body, revolver trailed at my head. I could sense him about to pull the trigger. At that moment, my tail whipped at his hand holding the weapon. The hard spines of my tail wrapped around the weapon and the hand holding it. Wrenching it to make the revolver point towards a different direction, it mangled his hand into a fleshy pulp and making him drop the gun as well.
“Acckk!!!” he yelped in pain.
Quickly, my hand cut through the air, impaling my claws into his stomach, raising him off his feet as I stood up.
“You should thank me.” I smiled malevolently. “You get to see your God sooner.”
The little man only mumbled a few incoherent words, causing me to laugh out loud.
“Are you begging?” I began, amused.
“No…” he finally said, blood trickling from his mouth. “I’m chanting a prayer.”
“For what?” I began, laughing again. “You’re a dead man, God has left you!”
“That, is where you are wrong, Garithe.” His good hand yanked off the crucifix he wore around his neck and stabbed my hand that impaled him.
I could feel a burning sensation course through my veins. The crucifix was a silver syringe. He had injected me with a solution of holy water and holy salt. My arm immediately crumbled into burning embers, dropping the priest as my skin cracked all over my body, doomed for the same fate.
“GARRRRRRRRRRR!!!!!!!!!” I roared, howling into the night sky.
“In the name of the Lord.” The priest said with his last few breaths, cradling his bloody hand and the wound on his torso. “I expel you!!!”
My body shattered into ashes and embers, casting a dark cloud across the city.
No, no.
You’re very mistaken.
This is just where our story is about to begin.
Almost 2 centuries later…
To be continued…..
Prolouge
The comforting hands of the wind caress my body as I dashed across the rooftops of Paris, France. Jumping from roof to roof, my landing shook the foundations of the structures I land on. The year is 1845, my name is Garithe, a powerful incubus. I was the ruler of this city’s streets, gathering my powers from these mortal whores. I judged not by creed nor race nor age, all I craved was their beauty, all I lusted for, was their body. The voices grow closer now even though I fled with all my might.
“There he is! After him!!”
“Don’t let it get away!!”
“Burn that damned Demon!!”
Funny isn’t it? Those who I considered to be the ones at the bottom of the food chain, now hunt me like I was some mongrel on these damned streets. Now, seems as though half the city was after me. Yes, I, a powerful Incubus, ran for my dreary existence. It was all the fault of that damned priest, luring me into his little trap and almost destroyed all my power. The Key word there is: Almost. I managed to escape before he could snuff out the last of my dark magic. My eye’s glowed dark blue in the moonlight, my clothes, tattered and charred from the pursuit. I leapt once more into the air, the Eiffel tower standing in the background before I landed on top of the next building, leaving a neat little crater. I stood up straight calmly, walking to the center of the building. It was him, I could feel it.
“Come out, Pienne” my voice said imperiously, “Come out you fucking priest!!”
Almost as if on cue, that all too familiar face stood a dozen meters in front of me. Fr. Antonio Pienne was an Exorcism Agent of the Vatican. That’s just another fancy way of saying demon hunter. We had clashed several times in the recent past, all of which ending in him just barely escaping with his life. But now, the mortal bastard turned the tables on me by somehow discharging me of my magic. Now, one unsaid law bred into all demons is to never underestimate a demon hunter. Hard to remember as I look into the eye’s of this balding little man. But one has to keep in mind, little or not, he scaled these roofs and got ahead of me.
“Garithe, you dared to have tainted this land with your poison” he began as if preaching a homily. “Now, God will discharge you back to the pits of which you slithered out of.”
“Really? I’d like to see you try.” I replied, morphing back from my human to my true form. Magic or none, I still had my strength.
I now stood an imperious 8 feet over the priest, fangs barred and claws at the ready. My horns sprouted idly from either side of my forehead, pointing towards behind me. My eye’s glowed a violent dark blue, clashing with my spiny, armored dark skin, clothes being ripped apart by the transformation, reducing my pantaloons into a loincloth over my private parts. I hunched over, my tail snaking in the air, before lunging at the priest with a mighty roar.
The priest materialized a revolver from out of nowhere, unloading 3 rounds into my air born body. The bullets pierced mein the air, making me lose my balance. The priest then easily sidestepped as I flew past him, crumpling on the ground. I staggered to stand up after a moment, feeling the burning holes on my shoulder and chest.
“Silver…” I managed to growl before a boot to my face sent me flying across the adjacent rooftop.
“Holy Silver.” Pienne corrected after leaping after me, then slowly walking towards me. “And the boot tip was carved from drift wood preserved under the sands of the River Jordan. Now Garithe, The Lord works through me, go back to the inferno, demon, He commands you!”
He was now standing next to my fallen body, revolver trailed at my head. I could sense him about to pull the trigger. At that moment, my tail whipped at his hand holding the weapon. The hard spines of my tail wrapped around the weapon and the hand holding it. Wrenching it to make the revolver point towards a different direction, it mangled his hand into a fleshy pulp and making him drop the gun as well.
“Acckk!!!” he yelped in pain.
Quickly, my hand cut through the air, impaling my claws into his stomach, raising him off his feet as I stood up.
“You should thank me.” I smiled malevolently. “You get to see your God sooner.”
The little man only mumbled a few incoherent words, causing me to laugh out loud.
“Are you begging?” I began, amused.
“No…” he finally said, blood trickling from his mouth. “I’m chanting a prayer.”
“For what?” I began, laughing again. “You’re a dead man, God has left you!”
“That, is where you are wrong, Garithe.” His good hand yanked off the crucifix he wore around his neck and stabbed my hand that impaled him.
I could feel a burning sensation course through my veins. The crucifix was a silver syringe. He had injected me with a solution of holy water and holy salt. My arm immediately crumbled into burning embers, dropping the priest as my skin cracked all over my body, doomed for the same fate.
“GARRRRRRRRRRR!!!!!!!!!” I roared, howling into the night sky.
“In the name of the Lord.” The priest said with his last few breaths, cradling his bloody hand and the wound on his torso. “I expel you!!!”
My body shattered into ashes and embers, casting a dark cloud across the city.
No, no.
You’re very mistaken.
This is just where our story is about to begin.
Almost 2 centuries later…
To be continued…..