{ASS} Harmed 11/11 FINALE .. NEW PRED-TV/WB

[PRED]

"So? Is this cool or what?" Persephone asked, twirling about
in a circle and waving her arms around.
"It's all right," Rue offered with a non-committal grin.
The red-haired demoness was proudly showing off the
underground dungeon below Destiny Enterprises. She had been so
anxious for Rue to see her "playground," that she'd bypassed the front
door of Destiny Enterprises and entered the building at the secret
basement entrance. Three flights of stairs later, and here they were,
standing at the entranceway of what was possibly the largest single
torture-chamber in all of human history.
Although she refrained from showing it, even Rue, at her most
jaded and inhuman, had to be slightly impressed. Whereas the ceiling
rafters were only about ten feet above them, the vault seemed to
stretch on for acres and acres beneath the huge complex. The walls
were imposing in and of themselves, fashioned from impassive
lichen-covered granite, while the floors were dank and earthen.
Destiny's catacombs reeked of utter desolation and unrelenting
despair. As far as the eye could see, women, teenagers and young
girls of all races, ages and sizes were getting violated in the most
debilitating and dehumanizing manner. The abusers were a variety of
warlocks, demons and just plain sick-fucks, and Rue was doubly
delighted to see that almost all of these horrific "sessions" were
being preserved for posterity on a variety of video and film cameras.
"We make quite a lot of money selling these videos,"
Persephone explained. "It's called 'demoncore' - human cunts getting
torture-fucked by demons and such. We had some competition out in
Hollywood last year, but some faggot vampire got them busted. So now
we're the only game in town. Collectors will pay like $1,000,000 for
one of these tapes. Since these cunts don't have souls anymore, we
can do any fucking thing we want to them, and they'll just go along
with it. I mean look at them," she giggled. "They're fucking pigs
for this shit .. all of them."
Persephone's observations were correct. The dungeon was
divided into an endless succession of cubicles, some very large and
others quite cramped. Many of these "studios" were outfitted with
inhuman-looking torture devices - racks, crucifixes, stockades,
operating tables, dentist's chairs, viper pits, etc. Others cubicles
were designed like movie sets to mimic everyday, mundane places --
living rooms, kitchens, retail stores, offices. Still other areas
further back in the dungeon were located under much higher ceilings
where some combination of demonic glamour and Hollywood-style FX magic
created the illusion of open areas -- crowded streets, parks, beaches,
etc.
On each of these soundstages, female victims were being
horrifically brutalized. In one scene, a man who could ONLY have been
Adolf Hitler stood over a woman in her late teens who must have been
very attractive at one point. Now, however, he head was shaved and
she was emaciated to the point of being a human skeleton. On her
bare, withered left breast a gold star with word Juden had been nailed
through her flesh.
Prostrated at Der Fuhrer's feet, the kike cunt was licking his
jack-boots and begging. "Please let me suck mein fuhrer's hard, Aryan
cock," she pleaded.
"Juden Schweinhund cunt!" Der Fuhrer spat into the bald
woman's face. "You are only fit to eat Aryan shit." With that, Der
Fuhrer dropped his lederhosen, squatted down and dumped a load of shit
on the floor. While the cameras captured every second, the debased
ham-hating whore greedily scarfed up the steaming pile of wet,
worm-infested feces.
"Okay, cunt, now rub your face in that shit and look up at the
camera," one of the demonic directors barked at the turd-gobbling
yenta.
The malnourished Jewess did just as she was instructed,
wolfing down the shit and then turning to the video camera with a big,
soulless, shit-eating grin.
"Okay," the director pointed to a seven-foot Aryan
storm-trooper stationed on the periphery of the set as a guard , "time
to plug her hole."
The storm trooper nodded then strode up brandishing a fierce
10-inch white cock.
"Now fill your whole mouth with Hitler's shit," the director
turned back to the kike cunt as the video camera rolled. "Now,
Fritz," he told the storm trooper as he looked through his monitor and
set up the shot, "when she gets a big mouth full of 'dolf's dung,
you're going to jam that big Aryan fuck stick down her mouth and choke
fuck that shit into her lungs."
The storm trooper nodded and watched as the Jewess stuffed her
mouth with Adolf's steaming shit. When she could fit nothing more in
her mouth, the storm trooper stepped up, pried open her jaws and
jammed his glistening rape-saber into her turd-filled mouth.
Like a ten-inch white drill, the Aryan's proud cock bored deep
into the stinking clod wedged in the young yenta's mouth. While she
gagged and choked on the fecal force-feeding, streams of loose shit
began to stream out her nose. The storm trooper didn't relent,
though. He just kept driving his white dick further into her polluted
Jewish mouth while she suffocated on Hitler's diseased dung.
"Ya! Ya!" Der Fuhrer danced about doing a mad jig. "Choke the
Jewess on my Aryan shit. Vas sprichst du, Juden Schweinhund cunt?
Sprechen!" he ordered, kicking the christ-killing cunt in the stomach
with his jack boots. "Sprechen!"
"Heil Hitler .." the distressed Jewess burped, the shit
streaming from her nose and mouth. "Arbeiten mach frei!"
"That's your cue, boys," the demon director shouted towards
the back of the set. Meanwhile, the film crew began scurrying around
setting up another shot. "Cum and get it. Fresh kike cunt for
everyone .."
Suddenly, a whole division of storm troopers marched onto the
set .. "Die Fahne hoch die Reihen fest geschlossen .." their voices
booming with the Horst Wessel song. Gagging on shit, her face smeared
with wet feces, the Jewess crawled over to the Hun horde and licked
their jack-boots while the kicked her about like a human soccer ball.
Blood spurted and bones cracked, and with every fresh wound and bruise
the Aryan horde let out a hearty cheer.
"This is great!" the director shouted above the mayhem. "Go
with it, boys. Gang-rape the kike cunt. Make the yenta pay!"
Rue couldn't help stroking her own pussy now as the storm
troopers lifted the Jewess's broken, bony body and raised it above
their heads like a trophy. In seconds, they unsheathed their Aryan
rape sabers like a precision drill team. Three rampaging white cocks
slammed into the ham-hating whore's gurgling, shit-filled throat while
strong hands split apart her ass cheeks, and a brave soldier buried
his Spear of Destiny inside her brittle buttocks.
They raped her brutally now, to the rhythm of the Horst Vessel
song and her cracking bones. Persephone's arms wrapped around Rue's
waist, and her tongue licked the cloaked witch's ear. "Is this what
you wanted?" she whispered. "You can join in. I'm sure Adolf and the
boys won't mind."
"You got anything else?" Rue asked, already bored with the
genocidal gang-rape.
"How about this?" Persephone led Rue to another soundstage.
This set looked just like the living room in a women's "crisis
center." The walls were painted in cheerful pastels and decorated
with posters that featured sayings like:
"It's Not Your Fault"
"Women are human beings, rapists are animals"
"Violence Towards Women begins at home, so
Move!"
Inside the "living room," a group of five women sat around on big,
comfy couches while a woman who looked exactly like Oprah Winfrey
listened to their pitiful stories of abuse and molestation.
"Is that really ..?" Rue started.
"Yeppers," Persephone beamed proudly. "Oprah fucking Winfrey
herself. She was one of the first cunts in the country to sign up for
Destiny months back. It seems old Stedman just wasn't satisfying her
in the big O department. Now she's our little nigger rape-toy. Cool,
huh?"
"Yeah, this does look mildly interesting," Rue admitted,
turning her attention back to the scene. As each female victim broke
down into tears, Oprah would give her a big hug and tell her how
special she was. Then, after the woman was all cried out, ALL the
ladies would share a big, sisterly hug.
"This is a lot harder than it looks to stage," Persephone
explained. "Remember, none of these cunts have souls anymore.
Getting them to cry on cue and display emotion requires some 'special
training' on our part. If you look closely enough behind their ears,
you can see big bumps. Those are behavior modification implants. You
see that guy over there," she pointed to a demon hunched over what
looked like a small mixing board. "He's sending electric impulses
into their brains that force them to cry and show other emotions.
With some good editing, it's really impossible to tell the difference
on the videos."
"So what happens now?" Rue asked, quickly losing interest.
"Oh, you'll see .." Persephone snickered.
Suddenly, the door to the living room burst open and a gang of
fat, dirty, reeking rednecks entered. Brandishing shotguns and brass
knuckles, they quickly subdued the squealing, struggling cunts. The
demon at the emotion-control panel was now a flurry of activity, his
spiny hands turning dials and pushing up levels.
"Okay," the director called out. "We got the shot." He
stepped in front of the main video camera. "Start the scene on my
cue. And .. Roll!" he clapped his hands in front the camera.
"Well, lookee what we have here ..?" the redneck leader asked
menacingly. "It's a reg-yee-lar cunt convention, this is."
"I don't know who the HELL you are, or how you got in here,"
Oprah fired back. "But I'm calling the police right now." She picked
up a phone from one of the end tables and started dialing.
"I don't think that there phone's gonna work, nigra'," the
redneck leader cackled. He mischievously dangled a severed cable in
the eyes of the terrorized cunts.
"Y..you won't get away with this." Oprah stammered, the
bravado gone from her voice now. "This shelter is under constant
watch by the police. There's a plainclothes officer stationed outside
right now, and he's probably calling .."
"You mean him?" the redneck leader pointed and grinned to a
man in the pack. The man stepped to the front of the throng and
flashed his badge so everyone could see. "This was all his li'l ole
idea, nigra. He calls me up and says: 'Buford, we done got us a whole
house full of quail just waitin' t'be drilled. When we gets done
here, he's gonna call up some of his buddy's at the precinct, and they
gonna come by for the leftovers."
"Th..this can't be happening," Oprah stuttered.
"Oh, it's happenin' all right, nigra'. And now we gonna have
us some fun," the redneck leader trumpeted. "Who wants to suck my
dick first?" he asked, producing a fat, herpes-covered organ that
resembled a pimply, eight-inch bratwurst. "Hey," suddenly a flash of
recognition passed over the redneck leader's face. "Ain't you that
fat water buffalo cunt with the talk show. What's your fucking name
again? Shit, it's right here on the tip of my tongue .. Ho-Prah!
That's it, Ho-Prah Winerfrie! I betcha a fat nigra ho' like you can
suck you some white dick REAL GOOD."
"Fuck you!" Oprah spit at him. "These women and I would
rather DIE than allow ourselves to be victimized by you."
"Jesus," Rue chuckled under her breath. "Who the fuck wrote
your dialogue?"
"Shh," Persephone giggled. "It gets better. Just watch."
"Okay, have it your way, then," the redneck leader marched up
to Oprah and shoved the barrel of his sawed-off shotgun down her
throat. "You can either suck on this," he wagged the gun around
between her stretched-out jaws, "or this." He gripped his thick,
pock-marked cock with his other
hand, rubbing the pus-covered warhead against the black diva's
terrorized face. "So what's it gonna be, Ho-Prah?" he asked,
withdrawing the shotgun just enough to let her speak.
"I'll do it," the African American icon shrieked. "Please ..
I'll do it."
"Do what?" the redneck leader jeered.
"I'll suck it," Oprah blubbered. "I'll suck your cock."
"You wouldn't just be saying that would ya', Ho-Prah?" he
laughed. "You wouldn't be lyin' to me just so's I won't blow your
filthy black-eyed pea-brains all across this here wall, would ya' now
..?"
"No," she sobbed. "I .. I want to .."
"Want to what?" he kept at her.
"I want to suck your cock," Oprah wept. "Please .. "
"Well, I fer one don't believe you, Ho-Prah," he scoffed at
her. "Me and my boys are gonna need a lot more convincing than that
if we're gonna let you and these other cunts taste our cum instead of
lead. I mean we could just as well kill the whole sorry lot of ya',
and save us all a lot of trouble, you know. I mean it's all the same
to us. You're all just cunts anyway. We waste your worthless hides,
and we'll just hunt us up some more pussy. No," he shook his head.
"This won't work this way. Y'see we done all been feeling
dis-crim-ee-nated against lately, what with all this woman's lib
bullshit, and all this yammering about so-called 'domestic' and
'sex-she-al abuse.' So we're starting thinkin' maybe all you cunts
are just a bunch'a rug-munching dykes who just don't want no hard
dick. And if that's the case, then we don't got no use for ya'.
'Cause everyone knows that the only use for a bitch is her cunt .."
"And her mouth and ass," the man who identified himself as a
cop added. "I like to fuck a bitch's mouth and ass, too."
"Well, Cletus," the redneck leader scratched his balls with
the barrel of his gun, "I'm thinking these bitches don't want none of
that from us. I'm thinking they ain't nothing more than a bunch of
bush-bumpers. I mean you heard Ho-Prah here. Just a minute ago, she
was saying these bitches'd rather 'die than be vict'mized by us. So I
say we just waste 'em right here .."
"But I want fuck this one's ass," Cletus the cop yanked one of
the women by the hair. She was an attractive blonde in her thirties
who looked like she might have been a soccer mom before she became a
soulless sex-slave at Destiny.
"Y'know, Cletus, you can always fuck her AFTER we waste her,"
the leader answered. "These bitches'll stay warm for almost an hour
after they've been capped."
"But I wanna hear her scream," Cletus insisted. "It ain't no
real fun lessen you can make 'em scream."
"But they don't want nothing to do with none of our cocks,
Cletus," the redneck leader grinned. "So I say we just respect these
bitches civil rights and waste them right now."
"NOOOOO!" Ho-Prah shrieked. "We want your cocks. That's all
we want! Hard cock! The only reason we're all sitting around here
whining is because we don't have any hard dick shoved up our worthless
fuck holes to straighten us out. Isn't that right, ladies?" she
howled desperately. "Tell them. Tell the men how much we want their
hard dicks pounding inside our worthless fuck holes. TELL THEM!"
"Please, mister," one of the women now piped up. "I haven't
had a hard dick shoved in my ass for such a long time. Please fuck my
ass and strangle me with a belt like my old man used to do. That's
the only way I can cum, if I'm beaten like a bitch and used like a
disposable cum dump."
"Me, too .." another women whined. Suddenly all the so-called
victims were begging to be tortured and traumatized by the redneck
gang.
Rue watched for another few minutes as the brutal gang-rape
began. She was mildly interested as both the men's cocks and their
firearms were jammed into the women's worthless cock slots. But after
a few minutes, even the sight of Oprah getting DP'd while being forced
to fellate a sawed-off shotgun grew old.
"Is this the best you've got?" Rue asked, leaving the Crisis
Center scene and wandering amid the rest of the soundstages.
"We have everything here," Persephone bristled slightly at
Rue's total ennui. "Any depraved, perverted fantasy you could
possibly imagine." She pointed to a whole village of screaming squaws
being gang-raped by General Custer and his 7th Cavalry Division while
thousands of castrated Indian warriors swung from the trees.
Rue looked at the scene with vague interest and moved to the
next set. Here a battalion of Japanese soldiers stood guard over a
shivering mass of American woman and children, their tattered clothes
adorned with prominent yellow identification cards pinned over their
hearts. The scene appeared to be Times Square circa 1945, only the
skyline and buildings were in ruins, obviously bombed to smithereens.
Ticker tape and confetti drifted down over the ominous scene, which
seemed to be a grim parody of VJ Day down to the last detail.
Instead of celebrating servicemen and cheering crowds, an
endless string of American Gis, sailors and pilots lined 42nd Street.
They squatted on the ground, their trousers and shorts pulled down
while their naked pink genitals rested across black chopping blocks.
Located in front of each block was a big wicker basket.
General Douglas MacArthur and President Harry Truman occupied
the last two blocks at the end of the line while War Minister Tojo
stood above them gloating. Seated before the entire assemblage,
Emperor Hirohito smiled down approvingly from his throne.
When the Emperor raised his hand, the first row of Japanese
soldiers lining the street stepped forward. In perfect unison, they
positioned themselves above each squatting American. With another
hand gesture, the Emperor commanded his troops to withdraw an endless
procession of samurai swords.
The snicker and flash of the polished steel sent a collective
sob through the American women and children huddled together. In
seconds, the burnished blades hovered above the vulnerable pink
genitalia of each bawling American male.
"What do you think of your much-vaunted American supel'iolity
now, Yankee dog?" War Minister Tojo jeered at Truman.
"Goddam Nip!" Truman cursed under his breath.
Tojo smiled, turned away from the defeated American President
and strolled amiably down the line of prisoners. He stopped at one GI
who was not crying, a handsome soldier in his mid-twenties. The
American dog-face glared up at the Japanese War Minister in total
defiance.
Tojo bent down and inspected the GI's dog tag. "Sahllgeant
Lobert Lichardson," he read aloud, the R's rolling across his tongue
like L's. He smiled and turned to the adjutant officer at his side
who was busily studying a sheaf of papers affixed to a clipboard. In
a few seconds, the adjutant looked up and barked orders in Japanese
towards the soldiers standing guard over the American women and
children.
Amid cries and sobbing howls, a group of soldiers went into
the huddled mass and began examining the yellow name badges affixed to
each woman and child. After ten long minutes, they finally emerged
from the mob dragging their quarry, a beautiful pregnant blonde in her
early twenties who was howling hysterically.
The Japanese soldiers hauled the weeping woman to Tojo who was
now also studying his adjutant's clipboard. With snorts of laughter,
the soldiers dumped the pretty pregnant woman at the War Minister's
feet. "Mrs. Loxanne Lichardson," Tojo smiled. He reached out with
his yellow hand and brushed the woman's greasy blonde bangs from her
eyes.
"Get your fucking hands off her, you fucking monkey-faced
nip," Sergeant Robert Richardson hissed.
"Sairensu!" the soldier standing above Richardson barked,
slamming the handle of his sword down on the GI's skull.
"So, ou'll Amerl'ican GI Joe does not r'ike when I touch his
beautiful b'lide," Tojo cackled. "He has much to r'earn about p'loper
humi'rity before his conque'lors." Tojo turned to the man's wailing
wife. "Perhaps it is best that we teach ou'll Amerl'ican GI Joe the
p'loper l'espect for his supe'liors." He grasped the blonde beauty by
her face and forced her mouth into the khaki crotch of his uniform
trousers. "You will suck my penis, Loxanne Lichardson, and if you do
not make me ejacu'rate in one minute, you'l husband will be
emascu'rated. Do you understand, American bitch?"
"Y..yes .." Roxanne Richardson sobed.
"Honey, no .." Sergeant Richardson started.
"Sairensu!" the Japanese soldier cut him off again with
another blow.
"You have 60 seconds," Tojo announced to the young American
housewife. He withdrew a pocket watch from his uniform and looked at
the hands with a malicious grin.
Roxanne Richardson's hands flew to the War Minister's fly and
ripped it open. Desperately, she pulled down his sweaty shorts.
Tojo's small, four-inch cock snapped out like the blade of a
pocketknife, butting against her blubbering lips. "55 seconds left,
Amel'ican bitch dog .." he spat in the blonde's teary eyes.
Taking a deep breath, she lowered her bawling lips over the
War Minister's small, hard prick, showering it with the full attention
of her tongue as she suckled. One soldier in the guard regiment
called out what must have been a foul curse, and the rest of the
soldiers broke their solemnity and laughed. In seconds, another guard
catcalled, and then the dam broke.
The air filled with gibberish Jap cursing while Roxanne
Richardson did her best to bring off Tojo's prick with her slavering
mouth. The whole while, the War Minister called out every five
seconds to announce how many seconds the American GI had before
surrendering his manhood to the Japanese samurai sword.
"Binbinkuru!" one of the Jap soldiers bellowed above his
fellow servicemen. All eyes turned to this soldier as he pointed his
rifle at the chopping block on which Robert Richardson's genitalia
rested. Suddenly the crowd of Japanese soldiers let loose with a loud
jeering laughter. In another second, all of the rank and file were
pointing their rifles and side arms at the chopping block, where a
conspicuous hard-on throbbed forth from Sergeant Robert Richardson.
"So," Tojo sneered at the stone-faced sergeant, "the Amel'ican
GI Joe grows excited watching his beautiful Amel'ican wife feast upon
supe'lior Japanese meat. Do you see that, Loxanne Lichardson? Your
husband g'lows excited watching you deg'laded. Pe'lhaps he would
r'ike to see his young wife p'reasure even more hard Japanese cock."
The War Minister clapped his hands, and a squad of Japanese
soldiers stepped forward, yellow cocks at the ready. Tojo barked some
orders in Japanese, and the men formed a single file line to his
right.
"10," he called out, his voice and his knees shivering. In
another three seconds, he began pumping his small hard prick furiously
into Roxanne Richardson's face while she sputtered and tried to spit
out the noxious sperm that spewed into her sobbing mouth. But Tojo
held her head in place and made her take every last drop of his Jap
gism, wiping his cock across her pretty features with a flourish.
When he was finished, the Nipponese warlord nodded to the
Japanese soldier poised above Robert Richardson's genitals. The
soldier betrayed a a quick grin before his blade flashed down. A
sickening THUD was heard as razor-sharp steel severed engorged human
flesh and sank into the wood beneath.
"Arrrgghhhh!" Sergeant Richardson wailed like a baby as the
soldier's blade casually wiped his bloody cock and balls into the
wicker basket.
"You'b b..bastard!" Roxanne squealed through her mouthful of
cum. "You'b p..promised .. you promised .."
"This is war, Amel'ican blonde bitch dog," Tojo sneered at his
pretty prisoner. "And in war, the spoils go to the victors." His
boot lashed out and kicked the sperm-smeared blonde across her weeping
face.
She fell back in a heap. Tojo stood above her and with his
sword he cut her tattered dress to shreds. In seconds, she was
clothed only in her bra and panties, her bare pregnant belly
ballooning up from her torso in heaving sobs. Tojo inserted his sword
blade beneath the elastic waistband of her panties and drew up the
cotton material, shredding it instantaneously.
Now Roxanne Richardson's bare pussy glistened before all the
conquering soldiers. "Bishobisho!" one of the soldiers pointed to
Roxanne's thoroughly damp pussy. He reached down, dipped his fingers
between the blonde pubes of Roxanne's slick snatch and withdrew his
hand with a flourish, jabbing his arm into the sky.
Now everyone - American and Jap alike -- could see the
evidence of the white woman's arousal. The sun glimmered off the
thick layer of pussy juice coating the Jap soldier's hand from the
tips of his fingers down to his thin wrists. "Bishobisho!" he cried
again. The Jap battalion shouted "bishobisho" in thunderous response
before the jubilant Jap soldiers broke into another round of gibbering
catcalls.
"It is so nice of you to become so a'loused, Loxanne
Lichardson," Tojo sneered at the bawling bride. "Do you see how your
wife wants me, Amel'ican GI Joe?" Tojo taunted Sergeant Richardson.
"She will become a baby factory for supe'lior Japanese sperm. But
first we must remove the infe'lior baby that po'rrutes her womb. You
do not mind, do you, Loxanne Lichardson?" he asked, returning his
attentions to the sergeant's wailing wife.
"Noooo .." Roxanne blubbered as Tojo motioned to a trio of
soldiers who quickly moved in to spread her legs and pin her to the
ground. Fighting with all her strength, she struggled valiantly,
kicking and writhing about in the dirt as Tojo scooted down to the
ground and knelt before her spread legs.
"Bonsai!" Tojo yelled as he thrust his hand between the
blonde's swollen cunt lips, jamming his entire arm into her womb. She
shrieked in utter agony as Tojo's fingers scraped the inside of her
uterus while he sadistically plumbed the depths of her womb.
"God, no, please," her husband was blubbering pathetically,
tears streaming down his face as he witnessed Tojo performing the
impromptu abortion of his first child.
For five whole minutes, amid the pitiful American sobs and
hearty Japanese cheers, Tojo's hand wrestled inside the pregnant
woman's belly. Then finally, with one decisive tug, the merciless
warlord yanked out the infant fighting for life inside Roxanne
Richardson's womb.
"Waaahhhhh!" the newborn cried with its first pathetic
breaths.
The battalion of Jap soldiers let loose with a mocking cry of
their own, mimicking the baby's bawling and the tears of their
American prisoners. As he tore off the placenta, Tojo called to the
crowd, "It's a girl!" Another cheer then arose before Sergeant Robert
Richardson was forced to watch something even more horrific than
anything that had just transpired.
Tojo tore the bawling baby from her umbilical cord, and spread
apart her tiny legs. Glaring at Richardson and all the American
prisoners, he then stabbed his still-hard prick between the baby's
kicking thighs, burying his samurai schlong deep into the tiny, smooth
groove that comprised the newborn's vagina. Gripping the infant
around the throat, he proceeded to choke her as he pounded his
four-inch yellow terror into her gasping, seizure-wracked body.
"BONSAI!" the Jap warlord cried at the top his lungs.
"Bonsai!" the soldiers chorused behind him, their slanty eyes
weeping for joy.
"Nooooooo .." Roxanne Richardson howled as she watched Tojo
rape her newborn baby girl to death.
For almost fifteen straight minutes, the ruthless warlord
vented his inhuman fury on the howling infant while the soldiers
whooped it up with continual chants of "Bonsai." Finally, teeth
gritted and mouth drooling, Tojo dumped his kamikaze cum into the
baby's bloated belly. Amazingly, the infant was still alive, and it
now hung from the warlord's still-hard cock like meat on the end of a
shishkebob.
"You will suck all these men now, Loxanne Lichardson," Tojo
ordered the howling housewife.
"Yes, Master Tojo," she spoke softly, her raped baby bobbing
before her zombie eyes, impaled on the end of the War Minister's rape
saber.
"If you do well, I will a'rrow you to suck my cock again," he
assured her, petting her blonde hair while she nuzzled against his
hand like an obedient bitch dog.
"Yes, Master Tojo," she licked his fingers before he raised
his hand and pointed to the line of soldiers at his right.
"I would be watching this, Amerl'ican GI Joe," Tojo turned his
attention back to Sergeant Richardson. "If your r'ove'ry wife fails
to make any of these men l'each o'lgasm in under one minute, you will
su'llender another one of your heads."
The Japanese soldiers that understood English laughed at
Tojo's pun, and began jeering at the pretty blonde bride as they
picked up her broken body and deposited it before the next enraged Jap
cock. Helpless and totally broken, the once-beautiful blonde bent
over the endless succession of cocks and sucked.
Only now, she wasn't sobbing anymore. In fact, she didn't
seem to be distressed at all. She inhaled the first yellow prick with
a mouth-watering hunger that could only be described as lust. "Come
on," she gasped between mouthfuls of hard Jap cock, "fuck my blonde
American face. Use my sweet American mouth like a pussy. Make me
your American bitch dog suck-slut. Jesus, your Jap cock tastes so
good, so superior. See this, honey?" she turned towards her
blubbering husband, jeering at him as the Jap sawed his cock between
her succulent, American lips. "This is how a real man treats his
bitch. You and all the rest of these Americans weren't man enough to
protect your wives and children, and now we're just going to become
cock slots and cum dumpsters for these superior Japanese warriors."
"Roxie," Sergeant Richardson bawled, "what are you saying ..?
Please .."
"Fuck you, Robert!" she spat at him then deep throated the
Jap's samurai schlong. "You and all the rest of the dickless GI
Joes."
The Jap fucking Roxanne's face started breathing much heavier,
and twitching slightly. "15 .." Tojo called out, still timing Roxanne
with the stopwatch. She was going to do it. She was going to suck
this Jap off to a cum in under one minute.
Greedily, the beautiful blonde worked the Jap's yellow prick
right to the bursting point. Then, just as she felt his balls quiver,
she withdrew her mouth from his glans and pinched her fingers hard
around the base of the Jap's throbbing cock. "Fuck you, Robert!" she
repeated, her vise grip preventing the Jap soldier from cumming as
Tojo counted down the last few seconds.
"5 .. 4 .. 3 .. 2 .. 1 .."
Roxanne sneered at her howling husband, and the Japs let loose
with their loudest cheer yet. Struggling like a madman, Sergeant
Richardson tried to squirm away from the block. But two strong Sons
of Nippon forced his pink neck across the chopping block and held him
there. Then, just as Roxanne released the Jap's cum into her thirsty
mouth, the soldier standing above Richardson lowered his sword and
lopped of the GI's head with one decisive stroke.
As the battalion resounded with another cry of "Bonsai,"
Richardson's severed head rolled into the wicker basket set before the
chopping block. The baby girl still impaled on his hard dick, Tojo
picked up the basket and raised it above his head like a trophy.
Another cheer boomed up as Roxanne Richardson went back to servicing
the Japanese servicemen with a self-satisfied smirk on her face.
After the cheering subsided, Tojo set the basket back down on
the ground and jabbed his sword inside. In a moment, he speared the
bloody pulp that had once been Sergeant Robert Richardson's proud,
American cock. He then withdrew the remains of the GI's once-mighty
manhood and presented it triumphantly to General Douglas MacArthur.
"Eat this!" Tojo jabbed the severed cock and testicles into
the war hero's face. "Eat it, or my men will l'ape every woman and
child here before the eyes of the Amel'ican people."
MacArthur glared up at the Jap Warlord. "Go to hell, you sick
Jap bastard."
"I was hoping you'd say that," Tojo snickered. He raised his
hands and called out in Japanese over the crowd.
In an instant, the huddled mass of women and children were
being forced to their knees and on their backs. Thousands of yellow
cocks whipped out and a massive gang-rape ensued. During the melee,
Tojo himself severed MacArthur's and Truman's genitalia and presented
them to the smiling Japanese Emperor Hirohito. Hirohito called his
chef and had the raw flesh served to him like sushi.
"That looks like fun, doesn't it?" Persephone asked Rue,
taking her by the arm and tugging her onto the set.
"Old school .." Rue muttered, shrugging off the demoness.
"Don't you have anything REALLY sick?"

"Remember," Inspector Darryl Morris told the SWAT officers in
the back of the unit's Emergency Response vehicle, "no one leaves the
Destiny building. We're talking total lockdown, do you understand -
employees and customers alike. NO ONE leaves the building. And don't
believe anything that anyone in there tells you. These people are
experts at brainwashing and mind control. When we get in there,
everyone is on the floor. EVERYONE! " he repeated. "Everyone is a
potential perp until we get the whole building searched, secured and
locked down. I've seen what these people are capable of, and we can't
afford ANY slip ups. Am I making myself clear?"
The SWAT officers nodded and acknowledged Morris's orders. A
minute later, the two SWAT ERVs and fifteen squad cars pulled into the
parking lot at 666 Destiny Plaza. It took only two minutes to unload
from the various vehicles and storm the complex's main lobby.
Megaphones blaring and weapons fully drawn, the San Francisco
SWAT team and scores of backup officers in riot gear made their
presence known immediately. Everyone in the main lobby was summarily
forced to the ground with their hands atop their heads. Many women
tried to resist the actions of the officers and flee, but as soon as
they bolted they were quickly subdued.
Amid the terrified squeals of hundreds of women Darryl Morris
emerged from the pandemonium and approached the main reception desk.
There, two officers were holding a tall, beautiful black woman at
gunpoint. As Darryl drew closer, he thought he detected a glint of
recognition pass through the black woman's eyes. This was odd because
he'd never seen her before in her life. Yet something in her
expression was vaguely familiar.
* Watch out for the mind games, Darryl, * he told himself. *
You've seen what these people can do. * Images of Prue and Amy Wagner
flashed through Darryl's mind. His interview with the Destiny victim
in her hospital room had been one of the most disturbing
interrogations he'd ever experienced.
Destiny had lured Amy Wagner into their clutches, played off
her loneliness and insecurity, and then turned her into some kind of
mindless sex slave. And, according to Amy's statement, Destiny had
done the same with thousands of other poor, desperate and alone souls,
women who would have literally sold their souls to the Devil for male
companionship.
Judging by what Amy had described, Destiny's appeal had no
boundaries. Women and girls of every age, race and socioeconomic
status had been taken in by their slick infomercials. Darryl had a
feeling that once everything about Destiny came to light, the victims
could number in the tens of thousands.
* These poor women, * Darryl allowed himself a moment of pity
as he strode through the crowd. * They have no idea what we've just
saved them from. *
Once Destiny's victims had been completely brainwashed, the
women would find themselves being coerced into making illegal,
underground pornographic videos - kiddie porn, bestiality, torture,
rape, probably even snuff films. Then, when Destiny was finally
through using the women, some kind of bizarre operation was performed
on them, and they were somehow lobotomized into the emotionless,
zombie-like state that now seized Amy Wagner
* Well, their little reign of terror is officially over, *
Darryl congratulated himself as he whipped out the search warrant and
court orders from his breast pocket. "Who's in charge here?" he
demanded, his eyes peering straight into the vicious gaze of the black
receptionist.
"You're all going to pay for this," the receptionist hissed
back. Her nametag read Lucretia. "You have no right to come bursting
in here like this. This is the United States of America, not
Afghanistan. We have rights. These women have rights .."
"Save it for the media, sister," Darryl cut her off. "Right
now I want to see the woman who runs this place. Lilith Magdalene!"
"You have no idea who or what you are messing with!" the
receptionist hissed.
"Do you see this?" Darryl waved the papers in her face. "This
is a federal search warrant to search every inch of these premises."
He showed her the first paper then the second. "This is a federal
court order demanding that Destiny Enterprises cease and desist ALL
business operations immediately pending a grand jury's review of
formal charges. Your sick little sex slave ring has been shut down.
Now you can either get Lilith Magdalene down here, or I'll go through
this building office by office, broom closet by broom closet until I
find her myself. Is that clear?"
"Are you sure you want to do that, Inspector Morris?" the
receptionist shot back.
* How the hell does she know my name? *
"There's no telling what you might find in your little search,
is there, Inspector Morris ..?" the receptionist continued. "We all
have skeletons in our closets, don't we, Inspector Morris. Who knows
who they all belong to? Some might even belong to you?"
Suddenly Darryl felt his mind burn. He doubled over in agony
and pressed his hands into his eyes, but he couldn't stop the pain or
the images flashing across his brain. In a split second, the entire
elevator scene with the blonde receptionist, Nicole, seared into his
consciousness. Then he saw something else - Lilith Magdalene
presenting a videotape of the incident to his superiors. More scenes
followed this mental footage - Darryl shivering in a prison cell,
crying like a baby as guards hustled him up and walked him down the
corridors to the lethal injection chamber.
"WE ALL PAY FOR OUR SINS, DARRYL MORRIS!" a voice boomed in
his brain. "AND YOU WILL PAY MOST DEARLY!"
"Stop it!" Darryl cried, tearing his face from his hands and
glaring through his tear-crazed eyes at the receptionist. "That won't
work now," he spat at her. "Do you understand. I know who you and
what you did to me and the rest of them." He whirled around to the
SWAT commander. "We're going through this complex floor by floor and
room by room until we find Lilith Magdalene. I want every square inch
of this place secured before we start tearing this place apart. Now
let's do it."

"We have a situation down here," Lucretia's telepathic message
drifted into Lilith's consciousness. The head Destiny demoness was
alone in her office, lost in deep intense concentration. It took an
unbelievable amount of energy and will power to maintain the integrity
of the Gateway yawning open inside her physical body. Every single
moment, the Abyss continued its relentless effort to suck her and all
the rest of the demons back into its dark maw.
Only the energy from the souls she'd eaten had allowed her to
keep the Gateway open this long. But the soul energy from her victims
was growing weaker just as the Abyss's pull was getting stronger.
Even the recent addition of Phoebe Halliwell's soul had only given her
a momentary resurgence of power.
Lilith needed more fuel, more souls, more energy to keep the
Gateway open until all the demons in the Abyss could be paired up with
human females and gain their release. Then, when the demons were
strong enough to exist on this plane under their own power, she could
release the human souls she was holding. Once those souls were
finally in the clutches of the Evil One, the Gateway could be closed
for good behind them. At that moment, demonkind would once more be
free to rule the Mortal Plane.
But the successful culmination of this plan was going to take
more time, more energy and more souls. Already, Lilith was feeling
the effects of her struggle with the Abyss. Even for a demoness who'd
spent an eternity in the Lake of Fire, the battle was painful.
"Lilith ..?" Lucretia's telepathy stirred Lilith from her
meditations.
"Yes, what is it now?" Lilith's mind snapped back.
"The police detective .. from earlier today .. he just marched
in here with about a hundred cops, a search warrant and a court order
shutting us down," Lucretia answered. "He's asking for you, too.
They're taking over the building right now. What are you going to
do?"
"DAMN!" Lilith sprang up from her leather chair. This was one
development she hadn't anticipated. She had been positive that they'd
thoroughly broken Inspector Darryl Morris earlier that day. She'd
even received an update from Persephone that Morris had been
completely eliminated earlier that evening at a hotel bar. Her
demoness operative had reported that Morris was dead - lynched by a
bloodthirsty white mob as a matter of fact.
* So what the HELL is he doing back here? * Something had
interfered. No, make that someone. It had to be those accursed good
witches. But that was impossible.
Lilith herself had just returned from eating Phoebe
Halliwell's soul, and the Dark Force itself had claimed the middle
witch sister, Piper. That left only the oldest sister, Prue, and the
White Lighter.
Somehow, they must have gotten to Inspector Morris and saved
him. And now he was back, armed with the full power of the mortals'
legal system to shut her operation down.
* Insects! * she howled to herself. With one wave of her
hand, she could disintegrate the whole lot of them. With one word,
she could release the very Fury of Hell to devour them. But that
would entail opening the Gateway inside her and venting the full power
of the Abyss.
In her weakened conditioned, she didn't have the energy to
hold back the Infernal vortex and control the Gateway's integrity.
Yes, she was certainly capable of annihilating the human pests, but
she and the demons she'd worked so hard to free would be sucked into
the Abyss along with them.
* There are still other means of dealing with the situation, *
she smiled to herself. Suddenly, her mind stabbed out into the
conscious thoughts of every human being in the building .. searching,
probing .. until she found the mind of Inspector Darryl Morris.
"WE ALL PAY FOR OUR SINS, DARRYL MORRIS!" she howled into the
detective's brain. "AND YOU WILL PAY MOST DEARLY!"
She relished the feeling as his inner being crumbled beneath
her mental assault. Instantly, she flooded his mind's eye with images
from his past - the elevator rape from earlier that day - and his grim
future as a death row inmate once the truth came out. The demoness
inundated Darryl's consciousness with the reality of his situation and
what awaited him if he continued with his investigation. She reminded
the detective that she possessed a videotape of Darryl's little
rendezvous with the Destiny receptionist. All she needed to do was
produce Nicole's corpse, and Inspector Darryl Morris would find
himself on the other side of his precious justice system.
Satisfied that the detective was once more under her control,
she released his mind, giving him a moment to gather his thoughts and
reconsider this futile fight. She knew Darryl Morris was no fool. He
would realize immediately that pursuing his vendetta against Destiny
only spelled his doom. He would call the police officers back.
Destiny would be saved.
Only that's not how it happened. Darryl emerged from her
mental assault with an even greater determination to see justice done.
He was now fully resigned to the fact that shutting Destiny down would
seal his own fate, but at this point he didn't care.
The human's own pathetic sense of honor was leading him into
self-destruction. Like a fool, he was trying to redeem himself.
Darryl Morris no longer sought to escape the consequences of his
actions. He was charging ahead to meet them straight on.
"FOOL!" Lilith screeched into his mind. But it was only a
vague whisper against the background noise of his inner-driven rage.
He was storming into her fortress with the single-minded determination
of a predator hunting prey.
"Lilith ..?" another telepathic voice now cut across the
demoness's mind. "I think we might have kind of a situation here .."
The mental voice was Persephone's.
Lilith's mind scanned the complex's interior and found the
demoness. She was located in the dungeon, among the demoncore
soundstages. "What is it, Persephone?" Lilith snapped. "In case you
don't know, we kind of have a situation going on up here as well .."
"There's someone down here who wants to .. um .. meet you .."
Persephone's thoughts seemed nervous and irritated. "She's the one
from the bar where we lynched the nigger cop .."
"What is she doing here?!" Lilith demanded.
"I .. she .." Persephone's thoughts stammered.
"Never mind," Lilith cut her off. "I'll see for myself."
Lilith's demonic consciousness now scanned the dungeon,
finding Persephone's companion immediately. An aura of pure cruelty
and inhumanity radiated from the woman's being with such intensity
that it totally masked her conscious and unconscious thoughts.
Through the psychic white noise howling about her being, Lilith could
sense a soul of such unadulterated evil that its depths seemed
virtually bottomless.
* What are you? * Lilith asked herself. Never in the billions
of eons of her existence had Lilith ever encountered a human soul with
such a capacity for EVIL. Her soul was a veritable black hole,
drawing everything it touched into its inexorable, obliterating grasp.
Her pitch-black karma equaled a million Hitlers and Stalins combined.
* With her kind of energy feeding me, I could keep the Gateway opened
and under my control for a millenium. *
"Persephone," Lilith telepathically snapped at the demoness.
"Keep our guest, right there. DO NOT LET HER GO, do you understand me
..?"
"Yes, Lilith," Persephone responded.
In a flash of hellfire and brimstone, Lilith vanished from her
office ..

"Now to find Prue," Leo encouraged himself while he got his
bearings straight. He had just materialized behind the walls of the
Destiny compound, and he no idea where he was. Nor did he have any
idea where he could find Prue.
The demonic energy inside Destiny coupled with Prue's cloak
scrambled his tracking sense somewhat. He could feel Prue close by,
but he couldn't focus on her exact location. That left one option, to
search the complex on foot while avoiding any demonic security guards
that might be lurking about. Not exactly his first option. White
Lighters were healers and guides, not warriors.
Fortunately, the ongoing police raid had fashioned the perfect
diversion for his incursion. Leo knew materializing inside Destiny's
walls would set off every demonic security alarm in the building. But
he was hoping the presence of the police would buy him enough time to
find Prue, get her the spell and potion, and vanquish the Abyss
demoness. He closed his eyes and tried to concentrate on Prue's soul
signature.
Evil reverberated through the walls like the roar of a million
tidal waves. The sensation sickened the White Lighter to the core of
his soul, but he staggered through his nausea, heading straight
towards the epicenter of the crushing Force. Logic told him that
Lilith, the arch-Abyss demon, was the focal point of all the Evil
Energy inside Destiny, and that if he could find her he'd probably
find Prue, too.
So he stumbled ahead through the empty corridors, his body
growing physically weaker with each step.
"And what the fuck do we have here?" a voice suddenly cut
through Leo's dizziness. He looked up to see a trio of guard demons
descend upon him. He was too weak to fight them, so he just collapsed
in their arms. Besides, he had a good idea where they were going to
take him, and that was precisely where he needed to be.

"What could you possibly want that we DON'T have here?"
Persephone asked Rue, her body twitching nervously now. She'd been
telepathically monitoring the events upstairs, and she knew the police
were closing in on the entrance to the dungeon. Once they got
downstairs, she had no idea what could be done. * Where's Lilith? *
she asked herself. * Why isn't she doing SOMETHING? *
"Do you really want to know what I want?" Rue asked,
interrupting Persephone's thoughts.
"Yes, please .." Persephone tugged her arm. "We can make any
fantasy come true here. I swear. My boss .. Lilith .. she's the most
powerful demon of all. She has a direct line to Satan himself."
"Really?" Rue suddenly looked interested again. "You say she
can put me in touch with Satan?"
"Um .. sure, I guess .." Persephone seemed a little nervous
now. "I mean, yeah .. she can make anything happen."
"I want to meet her," Rue announced. "I want to talk with
her. That's who I want to deal with."
"Um .. I .. sure .. Tell me what you want, and I'll tell her,
and .."
"No," Rue cut her off. "I want to talk to Lilith. Take me to
her right now! She's the one I want to deal with around here. You're
just a flunky. She's the boss, so that's who I'm going to work with.
Now take me to her."
"Um .. I .. it doesn't work like that," Persephone stammered.
"I just can't take a client to meet Lilith. She .. doesn't get
involved during the initial consultations, only .."
"Tell me, Persephone," Rue cut her off. "Am I like ANY client
you've ever had before?"
"No," Persephone shook her head.
"Well, then, if you don't want to lose my business, I suggest
you take me to see Lilith .. RIGHT NOW, before I march right on out of
here and find someone who CAN satisfy me."
"Did I hear someone say my name?" a chilling voice emerged
from behind Rue and Persephone, the bone rattling sound accompanied by
the noxious odor of brimstone. Both Rue and Persephone whirled
around.
"Are you Lilith?" Rue challenged, unfazed at all by the
demoness's sudden appearance.
"Yes," Lilith half-sneered. "And who, may I ask, are you?"
"Th..this is Rue," Persephone stammered. "She .. I .."
"I know who she is," Lilith hissed. "I know everyone who sets
foot behind these walls. What I don't know, though, is why you
brought this .. person .. here without checking in at the front desk.
You know that's a clear violation of Destiny policy."
"Please, Lilith, let me explain .." Persephone started.
"Silence!" Lilith cut her off. "You know we're under a witch
watch here. Yet you bring this .. human here into our inner sanctum
with no permission."
"I'm bored," Rue rolled her eyes. "I thought you stupid cunts
wanted to party. I'm out of here."
"You're not going anywhere," Lilith snapped back.
"She's not one of the witches, Lilith, I swear," Persephone
pleaded with her demonic boss. "You should see her. She .."
"I know all about what you and this .. human .. have been
doing." Lilith waved off Persephone. "You forget, I can monitor ALL
your activities on this plane WHENEVER I choose. And you're right,
this .. human is certainly no good witch. The trouble is, I don't
know what you are .. human," Lilith turned back to Rue. "I can't get
any kind of read on you whatsoever beyond a resonance of almost
infinite Evil. You appear human, yet your capacity for cruelty and
inhumanity rivals my own. You certainly aren't a demon. In fact, you
aren't like anything I've ever encountered in this or any other
universe. So, pray tell, please tell me what the HELL you are!"
"Me?" Rue spat back. "I'm bored. I didn't come here to talk,
cunt. I came here to GET OFF. And so far, all I've seen is a bunch
of lame shit out of a bad S&M novel. Come on, cunt. I thought all
you demons were supposed to be sooo BAD," Rue mocked the demoness.
"Pretty fucking disappointing if you ask me. I mean is this the BEST
Satan has to offer?"
"You have no idea what Satan has to offer .. human," Lilith
fired back, her eyes glowering with a demonic glint.
"So, why don't you fucking show me, then?" Rue challenged.
"Take me to Satan, and let me see for myself how BAAD he is. I'll
fuck his cock off. I'll hump his sorry ass until he begs me to stop."
"Rue .." Persephone started. "Y..you don't know what you're
saying. You .."
"I do so KNOW what I'm saying," Rue fired back. "That's why I
came here. Enough of this lame bullshit. I want the BIG ONE. I want
to fuck Satan himself. Now open the Gates of Hell and let's party."
"Rue ..?!" Persephone begged.
"Silence," Lilith ordered the demoness. "Rue has stated her
desire."
Suddenly a siren shrieked out over the dungeon's din.
"What's that?" Rue asked.
"We've been breached by spiritual forces," Lilith smiled. "No
doubt it's the remaining Halliwell sister and her pathetic White
Lighter. Bring the intruders to me," she commanded both aloud and
telepathically.
In a flash of hellfire and brimstone, three demons suddenly
appeared. In their spiny arms they held a struggling man. Their
prisoner's body was glowing with a bright white light. Through the
glamour surrounding her, Prue Halliwell's consciousness recognized
him. * Leo! *
"And what the fuck are you supposed to be?" Lilith spat in the
White Lighter's eye.
"He materialized inside the compound," one of the demons
answered. "He smells like a White Lighter."
"I can see that," Lilith hissed, then she smiled. "So, we
have one White Lighter, but no witches." She stroked Leo's handsome
face then grabbed his crotch. Her razor-sharp talons cut through the
denim and sliced into his tender genital flesh. She giggled while Leo
squirmed. "Tell me, White Lighter, where are your little witch cunts?
Huh ..?" she jeered, licking the tears from his cheeks with her
ice-cold tongue. "What happened to the Power of Three?"
"Go to Hell," Leo spat.
"No, you GO TO HELL!" Lilith cackled. "And there you can join
the other two Halliwell cunts .. what were their names again? Phoebe
and Piper ..? They're already waiting for you, White Lighter. Maybe
you'd like to see what Eternity has in store for them." She waved her
hand, and suddenly images appeared across one of the stone walls,
which loomed above Leo and Rue like a giant drive-in movie screen.
"Come on, cunt, SUCK IT!" a Bald Headed demon with a spiked,
twelve-inch cock jeered at a woman kneeling before him. While the
woman tried desperately to move her head away, he drove the spiked
cock into her mouth, the razor-sharp barbs shredding her lips, tongue
and cheeks with every thrust.
Yet, with every fresh laceration, the flesh of the woman's
mouth healed, only to be maimed again and again. Still in her cloaked
form, Rue's hands sank below her waist to her wet pussy. "Now this is
more like it," she sneered until she saw the face of the woman being
demonically raped.
* Phoebe .. NO! * Prue's consciousness surfaced for a fraction
of a second beneath the cloak. * Ignore it, * she snapped at herself.
* It's not time yet. I need to wait until the right moment. *
"Now doesn't that look like fun," Lilith cackled. "I wonder
what Piper's up to." She waved her hand, and the image of Phoebe
disappeared, only to be replaced with by scenes of Piper's Eternal
Damnation.
A giant demon was shoving a cock the size of a airliner into
Piper one millimeter at a time. Lilith roared with laughter. "Oh
that's sweet, that is truly sweet." She turned to Rue. "Do you see
what Satan is capable of now, human? Do you see what's in store for
you?"
"Well, then, quit your yacking and bring it on, bitch," Rue
retorted. "If I want to watch lame-ass pornos like this, I'll turn on
Cinemax Latenight."
Suddenly Leo struggled to get free of his captors. He was too
weak, however, and they easily subdued him.
"What are those things he's holding?" Lilith asked, her
interest in Leo suddenly piqued again. In one hand, the White Lighter
clutched a folded sheet of paper. In the other, he held what appeared
to be a water balloon.
"I don't know what they are," one of the demons replied. "We
thought you might want to examine them." He pried open Leo's hands,
and one of the other demons snatched the paper and balloon. While Leo
struggled in vain, the demon presented the items to Lilith.
Lilith unfolded the paper and examined it. "A vanquishing
spell," she giggled. "How quaint. And this must be the potion that
accompanies it. These will make a lovely souvenirs, don't you think,
Persephone ..?" Lilith asked.
"Oh, yes," Persephone beamed.
"Take these and put them in my office, right next to that vial
of Jerry Falwell's sperm." Lilith began to hand them to Persephone.
"I'd think you'd rather present them to Satan himself," Rue
interrupted. "You know, trophies of His Final Victory ..?"
Lilith paused for a moment then nodded. "You know, that is a
good idea, cunt. You can give them to the Dark Lord himself when you
see him." Lilith handed the items to Rue, then opened her mouth
wide. "Now it's time I granted your wish. Goodbye human .."
A large, gaping maw suddenly appeared between Lilith's parted
lips. A cloud of inky, jet-black darkness seeped forth from her jaws
and began enveloping Rue.
"I don't know WHO or WHAT you are .. human .." Lilith howled
above the growing roar of the Abyss. "But you will provide the
energy I need to control the Gateway and ensure demonkind's conquest
of this pitiful plane. Enjoy the rest of Eternity, cunt. Of every
Damned Soul in the Abyss, you shall suffer the worst. Satan hasn't
'gotten any' in billions of eons. If I was capable of it, I'd pity
you .."
"NOW, PRUE!" Leo suddenly shouted.
"Born in darkness .." Prue read the words from the paper,
suddenly stepping forth from behind the glamour and rending the
cloaking spell asunder in a brilliant flash of white light. " ..
Thence to return / Forsake this Plane / And Forever burn .." As
Prue's voice shouted above the cacophony, the Abyss continued pooling
around her, sucking her into its vortex.
"NOOO!" Lilith shrieked, as Reality itself began to bend
around her dark form.
"Release all souls / You hold in thrall," Prue continued, her
voice barely audible over the tidal wave of noise bellowing forth from
Lilith's maw. "Return to darkness / For Once and All .." Suddenly,
Prue stopped resisting the Abyss's pull and dove headlong into
Lilith's gaping mouth.
As she vanished into the all-encompassing Blackness, she used
her telekinetic powers to send the water balloon headlong into the
Abyss, bursting its contents against Lilith's coal-black lips.
Then the universe went BLACK ..
…………………………………………………………………

"Prue?"
The voice drifted in from the BLACKNESS like a single splinter
of white light. She recognized the voice.
"Prue?"
Another voice, different from the first, yet also familiar ..
familiar and comforting. She let the light from the two voices wrap
around her like a warm embrace. And she smiled.
"Piper .. Phoebe .." she felt her lips move and air move along
her tongue.
"You did it," Phoebe's voice stroked and soothed the burning
deep inside Prue's heart. "You vanquished Lilith and freed us. It's
all over."
"Wh..where are we?" Prue stammered, opening her eyes. The
brilliance of the light surrounding her made the eldest Halliwell
sister squint. As bright as it was, however, the Light didn't hurt
her eyes. Rather it seemed to be cleansing her from the inside out.
Tears streamed down her face, and her very soul seemed to be pouring
out from her tear ducts.
"I think this is .. heaven .." Piper's hands brushed back the
hair from her older sister's eyes. "I think we're in heaven."
"Then we're .. dead ..?" Prue asked.
"No," a fourth voice suddenly sounded all about them. The
sound didn't reverberate in their ears, however, but in their minds.
Before the awed eyes of all three Halliwell sisters a form
slowly took shape in the light. It was a man, a handsome bearded man
garbed in a raiment of the whitest white.
"Y.. You're ..?!" Prue stammered, but the words wouldn't come
out. The light emanating from the man's body pierced her very being.
Prue was transfixed, unable to do or say anything.
"Yes," the man spoke, his voice washing against her like the
soft lap of waves at low-tide. "I am Jesus, the Christ."
"Cool .." Phoebe exclaimed.
"Phoebe .." Piper snapped at her little sister, embarrassed.
"But it is cool," Phoebe protested. "I mean its Jesus, and
he's hot," she whispered.
"There IS such a thing as respectful awe .." Piper gritted her
teeth.
"Enough, both of you," the eldest Halliwell cut off her
sisters' bickering with one of her famous Prue stares. With Phoebe
and Piper silenced, Prue turned back to the man who had announced
himself as the Son of God. His Presence definitely brought one
question to all their minds. "You say we're .. not dead?" Prue asked
suddenly.
"No," Jesus shook his head. "You are very much alive, and
you'll be going back to your lives very shortly."
"So you came by to tell us what a great job we did ..?" Phoebe
inquired.
"Phoebe!" Piper snapped again.
"No," Jesus answered Phoebe's question directly. "I have
appeared to you tell you the Truth."
"The Truth?" Prue wondered aloud. "And what's that?"
"In a moment, you will return to your lives as they were,
before this entire chain of events transpired," Jesus replied. "You
will remember nothing of Lilith and the Destiny demons. In fact, they
never will have existed on the plane of your Reality. Nothing they
did will ever be recalled, and no one they touched will ever remember
what transpired."
"So it'll be like nothing ever happened?" Phoebe asked.
Jesus nodded.
"Wow, that's a relief," Phoebe smiled. "All those things I
did .. they were pretty horrible. It's nice to know they're all
forgiven."
"You misunderstand me," Jesus smiled grimly. "You are not
forgiven. None of you are," he spoke to all the Halliwell sisters.
"Excuse me ..?" Prue exclaimed in disbelief.
"You are witches," Jesus explained. "You are servants of
Satan. When you die, you will be Damned for All Eternity."
"Wh..what are you talking about?" Prue demanded. "We just
saved the universe for crying out loud."
"Your actions do not matter," Jesus shook his head. "You can
save the universe a million times over, and it still does not change
WHO you are. You are witches, servants of Satan. You will burn in
Hell with the rest of my enemies."
"But .. but we do GOOD!" Phoebe pressed. "We're good witches
.. we fight Evil .."
"What you do in life doesn't matter. Ultimately, the only
thing that counts is that you accept Me as your Lord and Savior. But
you are witches and already tainted with Satan's Power, so that is
impossible."
"Okay, then," Piper interrupted. "We'll just stop being
witches and become born-again Christians. Then we can escape Hell,
right ..?"
"No," Jesus shook his head. "That is not your Destiny. You
are destined to be witches and fight demons and warlocks. Then you
are destined to burn in Hell for all Eternity. That is the Father's
will."
"But we're good witches," Phoebe repeated. "We're not evil.
We FIGHT Evil."
"In the grand scheme of things, that does not matter. You are
still witches, and all witches are damned for Eternity as servants of
Satan. The fact that you fight evil matters not at all. When you
leave here, you will remember nothing of this and lead your lives as
you were doing."
"This doesn't make any sense," Piper argued. "Why don't you
return us and let us remember all this? That way we could stop being
witches and become Christians. That way we wouldn't be damned to
Hell."
"That is not your Destiny," Jesus shook his head. "You are
destined to burn in Hell. You are witches."
"This isn't fair!" Phoebe complained. "I mean where do you
get off telling us that we're Damned for all Eternity? We do a lot of
Good. We save innocents. I mean we save the Universe, and we're
STILL damned to Hell ..? Tell me, how does that work?"
"It is God's Will," Jesus replied.
"Well, God's Will can kiss my ass," Phoebe shot back. "And so
can you."
"Phoebe!?" Piper snapped at her younger sister.
"Well he can .." Phoebe shot back.
"So why tell us any of this?" Prue interrupted her sisters.
"If we're damned, why not just let us go back to our lives none the
wiser."
"I thought you should know the Truth," Jesus responded.
"And what is the Truth?" Prue demanded.
"God hates you," Jesus told them. "You're witches. You are
abominations in His eye. You think you fight Satan, but you actually
serve him. What you do doesn't matter, only what you believe. There
are rapists and murderers in Heaven who have accepted Me as the Lord
and Savior seconds before they died. They are now in the Father's
bosom. However, you and your sisters can save all the Innocents you
want, but you will still burn in Hell because you will never surrender
your lives to Me."
"Speaking of lives, why don't you get one?" Prue snarled at
the Lord and Savior before she and her two sisters returned in the
twinkling of an eye to the Mortal Plane.

Afterward

"Welcome, Ladies ..!" the woman's voice cuts across the sound
of ecstatic applause. The audience of lonely, eligible, enthusiastic,
single ladies is ready to witness THE MIRACLE. The announcer has to
speak even louder. "We all know why we're here. It's time to quit
playing games. It's time to meet your destiny head on. You deserve
happiness. You deserve success! You deserve it all! But most of all
you deserve the AB-ICIZER!"
The audience begins chanting "Ab-icizer .. Ab-icizer ..
Ab-icizer .." in a hypnotic mantra.
"And now," the woman announcer cuts in again, "here is the
woman who can make all your dreams come true, the Abbess of Abs,
Sister Mary Margaret Monaghan ..!"
The audience rises to its feet, clapping and waving their
hands about in ecstasy. Grown women are actually crying, hands
reaching out to touch the hem of a long flowing black habit that
sweeps by them and onto the stage. The black billowing habit twirls
about. A tall, slender, strikingly beautiful nun peers into the souls
of every woman who sees her.
"Okay, who out there wants flat abs?" she hisses. The women
in the audience start hollering ecstatically. The nun starts
laughing. "I thought so. Well, I'm here today to tell you that any
woman can have flat abs in forty days!"
The women in the audience begin laughing now, too. The
cheering slowly subsides, and the room becomes quiet. Every bottom is
now in a seat, and every silent eye affixed to the stage, to the
speaker, to Sister Mary Margaret Monaghan.
"This is some kind of big put-on, right ..?" Piper Halliwell
giggled from her seat on the big comfy lazy-boy that had been her
father's. She sipped her Merlot and scrunched her face in disbelief.
"Come on, Phoebe, you can't be serious about this?!"
"Shh, you .." Piper's younger sister Phoebe waved frantically
from her seat on the sofa. Phoebe Halliwell was transfixed, her eyes
glued to the television. She hugged an overstuffed pillow into her
ample bosom and lightly chewed on the fringed corner. "I hear this
REALLY works!"

The darkness in her studio apartment had seeped into every
corner of the single room. The only light coming in originated from
the pulsating mercury of a street lamp located directly outside her
window. She was crouched in the corner, though, where the diffuse
orange fog could not reach her.
Already she could feel the prescription sleeping pills taking
effect - all thirty-four of them. She clutched her knees to her chest
and rocked herself to eternal sleep. With her last few conscious
thoughts, she composed the epitaph that would grace her tombstone:

Amy Wagner
1964 - 2000
She would have sold her soul
To the Devil
To taste true love
Just once