The Devil's Randy Daughters
From the moment their sextuplets were born, Mr and Mrs Daniel Dewar, thought the sun shone out of their little darlings. Their daughters, Pearl, Coral, Ruby, Jade, Amethyst, and Amber, could do no wrong.
Six pairs of newborn, jet black baby eyes looked up, with what their their parents thought was love, when in actual fact it was utter contempt.
The older they got the more alike they became, until it was impossible to tell them apart. They grew into six identical images of each other.
“Peas in a pod.” Their father would proudly announce when talking about his daughters. He saw them as six lovely angelic angels, and not what they really were. Six evil monsters with no regard for anyone or anything, except their own perverted pleasures. Whilst it was true, they were physically beautiful, their souls were as ugly as the devil they sprouted from.
His wife, Crystal, and the mother of this demonic troop, unfortunately for her sake, began to suspect otherwise. As her daughters grew from six boisterous children into six unpleasant women with a dangerously dark side to them, the curtain of a mother's unconditional love fell from her eyes.
She watched in dismayed impotence as they developed, into creatures with wild moods, and even wilder tastes. Her husband saw none of this. It was why one dark night as Mr Dewar, slept in-front of the television, his daughters hatched a plan to rid themselves of their troublesome mother.
The Dewar family lived in a pleasant suburban neighbourhood, in a charmingly small English market town, in a county that was famous only for it's strong tasting cheese. Into this idyllic, and unsuspecting community, eighteen years earlier, the devil had impregnated Mrs Dewar, as she dreamed about her favourite movie star, and her husband lay in comatosed sleep beside her.
Eighteen years later, Mrs Dewar, had taken to going to church. She felt the need for protection from a higher authority other than her husband, who was clearly not capable of protecting her from their own daughters. God she hoped would fill in the gap. It was on one such Sunday that her six daughters had chosen to kill their mother with a large axe taken from their father's tool shed.
After consulting the book of spells their father the devil, not Mr Dewar, had given them for their eighteenth birthday present, the sisters with newly acquired skill, flew their broomsticks onto the church roof, and waited for their mother. Carefully laying down a carpet of nettle leaves, preventing the hallowed sanctity of the roof from burning their pert bottoms they sat and waited for the morning service to finish.
One by one the congregation filed out of the church, thanked the vicar for his wonderful service, and left via the local pub, to go home and eat as much Sunday lunch as they could before falling asleep in front of the television.
Finally after a long and anxious wait, on the part of her daughters, Crystal Dewar having prayed her final plea to the almighty, also gave her thanks to the vicar, and began to walk the mile and a half to her house.
A lazy woman by nature, Crystal decided to take the short cut through the woods. Just as her daughters knew she would. Swooping low the sextuplets skimmed the tree tops, keeping pace with their unsuspecting mother. Halfway on her journey she reached a clearing in the middle of the densely tree covered wood. Breathless from walking she took a moment to rest on a fallen moss covered tree. As her daughters knew she would.
Whilst their mother got her breath back they drew lots to see who would get the pleasure of the first blow with the axe. Then they took it in turns to wallop her upon her head. Amber got the first whack, then Jade. After her came Pearl, then Amethyst, followed by Ruby, and then finally Coral. When they had finished Crystal Dewar not longer looked quite like she used to.
As the blood gushed out of her many head wounds, Crystal Dewar lamented that God must be busy else where.
It was decided that rather than bury their mother's body, and as they too were all rather hungry for Sunday lunch, they would eat her instead.
Six witches, with wands that zapped lasers made fast work of cutting up their mother's corpse. Having carefully wrapped the remaining parts in cling-film, and storing them in the freezer, the girls cooked the torso of their now dead mother in the large oven of her kitchen range.
She fitted nicely, as they knew she would.
The delicious smells of roasting flesh, drew their father away from his usual seat in front of the television. His nostrils twitching with hoggish anticipation, he sat down at the dining table to unknowingly eat his wife. As his daughter's knew he would.
As Daniel Dewar, tucked into his wife's belly, he complimented his children on their cooking skills, and gave no thought to his missing wife. He had never tasted anything so scrumptious as the food now sitting on his plate, inviting him to consume as much of it as he could. He ate as a man possessed, which he was. Enslaved by the black magic spell his daughter's had cast on the food before him. He ate like a starving man. He could not stop. The more he ate the more he wanted.
“Carve me more meat.” He ordered. The sisters watched in disgust as with drooling saliva running down his chin, he shovelled in a frenzy of gluttony, mouthful after mouthful of his dead wife into his seemingly cavernous stomach.
He ate until there was nothing left to eat, pushed back his licked clean plate, patted his now distended belly, clutched at his heart, and keeled over – dead from greed. As his daughter's knew he would.
Their parents now safely out of the way. The Dewar sisters began to put into action their devilish plans to cause chaos in the small market town where they were born. Their home town famed only for it's strong tasting cheese was about to become infamous for something quite different.
Murder and mayhem.
A list was drawn up of suitable candidates for murder. It was unanimously agreed that the goody-goody vicar would be the first to go. It was this saintly man who comforted Crystal Dewar, in what he thought was a delusional terror for her off-spring. His habit of an afternoon stroll among the graves in his churchyard, an open grave and a handy shovel, sealed his fate.
“Always enjoyable visiting with mother, don't you think?” Ruby observed dryly with more than a hint of sarcasm.
Having disposed of their parents, and the vicar the sisters went next for the teachers who had taught them at the private school for girls they were forced to endure. Starting with the headmistress,
Miss Clarissa Jones, they worked their way through the long list, leaving only one teacher alive.
Miss Honoria Stone, the chemistry teacher was saved from their murderous attentions. They liked Miss Stone, and uncharacteristically for the sisters, when the school summarily dismissed her for unteacher like behaviour, they felt sorry for her. Beating her students with a stick, and enjoying it far too much had met with the headmistress's strong disapproval. It had put Miss Clarissa Jones at the top of their list. The sisters, never on the receiving end of Miss Stone's punishments, considered they had a lot to thank her for. Without the lessons learned at her sadistic tutelage, of such things like the periodic table, and the reactions of certain chemicals. Deciphering the book of spells would have been a whole lot harder. She had given her six favourite students the ability to cast spells.
But then she knew she had.
Ingenious and devious ways to kill off their intended victims were devised, and all would have gone well, if it hadn't been for the neighbours next door selling their house, and getting as far way away from the remaining members of the Dewar family, as they could.
The sisters were half way through their list of murderees when a new neighbour caught all six attentions as he swaggered, muscles rippling, up the garden path.
They had all been too busy thwacking that fateful Sunday, to hear their mother's final short prayer. “Please God send down an avenging angel.”
If they had paid more attention ----- well they didn't, and it was a good thing too. Otherwise how many more of us poor mortals would have met an untimely end?
The angel Michael had his orders. Kill the devil's spawn. Get back up to heaven. Don't let anyone down on Earth know what was going on.
Handsome among the celestial clouds, with the exception of the arc angel Gabriel, Michael was everything you'd expect an angel should be. He was kind, considerate, loyal to his leader, and had good intentions toward man's well-being. He also possessed a passionate hatred toward the demonic forces of evil that was thought, even in heaven, as zealous.
Crystal Dewar's plea for help against Satan's offspring, did not go unheard. It was thought that Michael's enthusiasm to rid Earth and the heavens of anything to do with hell, would help him get the job done quickly, without fuss, and without the inquisitive nature of man getting in the way.
All this was unknown to the sisters, as noses pressed up against the glass of their ex-parents front window, Pearl, Coral, Ruby, Jade, Amber, and Amethyst Dewar, drooled, never guessing that the beautiful young man who had just moved in next door had come to destroy them. They saw what they wanted to see. A tall handsome, delectably layable, penis on legs or rather hanging roughly, or so they thought, at the top of a tight arse and a pair of powerful thighs.
As is the way with angels, everyone sees what they want to see.
Pearl lusted after the blond haired, blue eyed, three foot tall midget.
Coral, took one look at the rugged stubble chinned, muscle bound Neanderthal that filled his torn jeans and checked shirted to bursting point, and knew, he was all she would ever want in a man.
Ruby could not believe that the vision of loveliness, swathed in rippling fat, and with an undeniably strong odour of male sweat, had come to live next door.
Jade's eyes bulged as she watched the soft featured, coyly demure creature of perfect femininity, pout her moist lips as she glided gracefully into her house.
Amber and Amethyst, having similar tastes in their sexual partners gazed with awestruck wanderlust throbbing between their legs, at the hairy orang-utan, and silver back gorilla, loping along the path.
The one thing they all had in common. Their sexually desperate tongues were hanging out of their sexually frustrated mouths. And to a girl, each sister decided they just had to have the guy next door.
Very soon a distance began to develop between the sisters, and a chasm of bitter mistrust opened. The Dewar sister's perfect coven of togetherness, thanks to the angel Michael, began to disintegrate in a torrent of bitterness fuelled by jealous rivalry.
The problem was that although the devil had filled his unborn daughters with all the knowledge they needed to succeed as evil demons of the black occult. It didn't occur to him that their education, whilst still in the womb, should include how to deal with an angel bent on annihilating his satanic spawn. The devil in his arrogance hadn't instilled in his daughter's monstrous minds that the forces of good would want to destroy his evil progeny – i.e. Them.
As I've said, when looking at angels, people see what they want to see. The girls did not see Michael, in his true self but only their own depraved visions of what constituted the perfect shag.
Exactly what Michael intended. Angels can be devious when they want to be.
If their education hadn't have been incomplete, they would have known this. They would also have known that as an angel, he too was incomplete. When it came to the necessary tackle needed to give his six lusting fans, the ultimate orgasms they were hoping for, they were out of luck. In a word, although he looked male, and in many respects was, as an angel he was also – sexless. Possessing neither the required physical attributes or the mind set to go with his heavenly beauty.
One evening after a particularly nasty argument, the sisters agreed to take it in turns at seducing the sexually desirable new neighbour. As they had no idea who was the eldest sister, taking their names in alphabetical order seemed to be the fairest, starting with Amber. It was also agreed that should the sister who's turn it was, fail, she would leave the district to give the next one a even chance of success.
Carrying a large basket of fruit, strongly biased towards bananas. Amber knocked on Michael's front door. Amber, of course had no idea what she was dealing with when she pushed forward her basket into the willing hands of Michael.
Nor did she realised why their new neighbour seemed genuinely pleased to see her. Amber turned, and waved in triumph as her watching sister's gasped with envious dismay.
An angel is an all seeing immortal. Try as you might, you cannot hide your true nature from angels. He saw no beauty in her smouldering dark eyes or her long black hair. The sensuousness of her curvaceous body meant nothing to him. He saw her for what she was – the devil's daughter.
With a double meaning smile, he invited the unsuspecting Amber into his angelic lair, whilst at the same time, thanking his boss for this unexpected gift. It had been Michael's intention to wait until about 4.30 am, the following morning, and dispatch his quarry as they slept. Job done – bish bosh – fast and furious – back home in time for tea.
It's a lot less troublesome to send the daughters of Beelzebub back to daddy if they don't see you coming.
Amber mistook the angel's welcoming smile for pleasure at her coming to see to see him, “Oooo... you are a beast.” She cooed entangling her fingers in what she thought was thick orange fur.
“The father hath said, thou shalt not lay down with beasts.” Michael quoted.
“I don't intend to lay. I want you upright against the wall or better still on all fours. Fancy a banana?” The reference to his father, and beasts going straight over her head, Amber held the yellow fruity dildo aloft. Suggestively laying the innuendo on thick, she slowly peeled the banana's outer skin back.
“I can do the same for you. Peel away your skin that is.” Amber giggled.
“Thou hast defiled the earth with thy presence. I shall render thee unto thy father.”
Of course, Amber had no idea what he was talking about. She thought it was some kind of dirty foreplay talk, and began taking her clothes off.
“Give it to me. Give me your all.” She panted stripped down to her skimpy thong style panties. She wanted sex with this furry Adonis, and she wanted it there and then.
The angel Michael did as she asked, he gave her his all. He unfurled his angel's wings, and with one mighty blow sent Amber down into the depths of hell to meet her demonic father.
It had been agreed that just to make sure the coast was clear, the next sister in line would wait twenty four hours before trying her luck.
Amethyst gave it forty five minutes before the impatience gnawing at her, had her knocking on Michael's front door.
Desperate to lay down with the beast, she reckoned her and Amber's similar tastes in anthropoid bed partners, would, in all likelihood mean a threesome was a dead cert.
Michael opened the door to Amethyst with the same inviting smile he had given to Amber. As soon as she was inside, he wasted no time in dispatching her to meet her father, and sister back home in hell.
Pearl, Coral, Ruby, and Jade's suspicions were aroused. They had seen their sisters go into the house next door, they had not seen their sisters come out again – but they had seen Michele walking down the road whistling with a basket of fruit in his hands.
They had until then, assumed the three were having the most wonderful, sexually explosive, rumpy-pumpy of all time. Their suspicions aroused, they did what all curious women, satanic or otherwise, would do. They followed him. They trailed behind him all the way to the local children's home where he left the basket. Then they spent the next five hours outside their mother's old church, whilst Michael, was inside.
Something, they decided was very wrong. And something, had to be done about it. They weren't bothered by the loss of their sisters, in fact they were rather pleased that a large slice of the competition was now out of the picture. What bothered them the most was that their new neighbour liked God. Generally speaking they mused, people who went to church were not that interested in the devilish side of things. It was a bit of a worry.
So - whilst Michael was inside the church reporting on his progress to the office. The Dewar sisters conversed outside, on how to get the object of their desires to desire them.
They decided to invite him to dinner. After all there was still a large portion of their mother left in the freezer. What was it she used to say? Oh yes. Waste not want not. So, they also decided not to waste her.
Returning from the uplifting conversation with his boss, Michael found, as he knew he would, in his letter box an invitation to dine with his neighbours. The note hoped he wasn't a vegetarian.
A great believer in, 'it's better to kill four devils with one blow', Michael gladly accepted, arriving promptly a 7pm, as per instructions.
The smell of roasting parent, filled his angelic nostrils with equal measures of disgust, and determination to have before the evening was over, the remaining four daughter's of the devil barbecuing in hell.
Smiles were exchanged all round, glasses were filled, and an attempt at small talk, by the girls, began.
Michael's nose started to itch, inflamed by the increasingly heavy aroma of Crystal Dewar's body parts cooking in the oven. Immediate action was called for. A mighty swipe of his wings, and oblivion for the creatures dancing attendance on him was the obvious solution to his problem.
The sextuplets earthly father had been a thrifty man. Whilst he could have afforded to buy the larger more expensive house next door, he chose to save his miser's pocket, and purchase the smaller version, thus saving several thousands of pounds, none of which he ever shared with the rest of the family. The limited span of the living room, now filled with demonic temptresses, and an avenging angel, made opening said angel's mighty wings to full stretch impossible. This unforeseen obstacle meant a mighty blow was out of the question.
The six Dewar sisters twinned each other in every physical detail - but their nasty depraved habits were uniquely their own.
Where as Amber enjoyed a good shag with an ape or a monkey, and a cigarette afterwards. Amethyst preferred eating her bed partners after having sex. Secretive by nature, she told no one of her taste for the raw mammalian flesh that she consumed in great quantities, not because she was ashamed, but out of fear that her sisters might want some too.
Jade, her usual sexual dish, was the warm and wet, not on four legs sort, pussy. Men were, if there wasn't an available woman around, something she put up with. Her dislike of a man's cock was robustly surpassed by her love of a woman's vagina. When the feminine objects of her desires were unwilling to participate in her sadomasochistic games involving chains, whips and latex, Jade closed her eyes and pretended the man she was dominating was really a woman in a man's inadequate skin.
Pearl consumed by an arrogance that mere mortals were all beneath her. She looked down on humanity, and soothed her revulsion of them by having sex with someone who was too short to look into her eyes, as he pumped his vigorous all under her.
Ruby had no such qualms about height or gender. Nor was she species specific, so long as they were fat she was interested. And not just a little fat. Mordantly obese pushed her buttons. The more mordantly obese, the harder her buttons got pushed.
As for Coral, she loved rough sex, preferably with truck drivers. Several, who assured her they could pleasure her all night, had driven away after a night of her passionate abuse, barely able to walk. If she had her way, she told herself, Michael would have to crawl home, scrapping the ground with his belly.
Limited for space to administer his mighty blow, Michael hesitated to send Coral off to daddy. She was not so shy. The instant the door clicked shut when her sisters went into the kitchen, Coral was like a rat up a drainpipe. She pounced. Launching a full frontal assault on Michael's body, Coral made a grab for the manly bits she so longed to feel thrusting away inside her.
Disappointment wasn't in it. Coral howled with a rage filled anger at the missing objects of her desire that would have woken the dead. She didn't waken the dead, nor did her sisters respond to her howls of anguish. They mistakenly took the screeching of their sister as the whoop of a sister getting something they weren't. Grinding their teeth with jealousy they furiously basted with spitting hot fat, the nicely browned flesh of their mother. The hot spitting fat of her once plump body mirroring how they felt.
Michael, an angel of action, decided there was no time to waste. If he couldn't give the bitch a full smite of heavenly wrath, a lesser smote would have to do. He smote. Coral disintegrated in a puff of demonic smoke and went, like her sisters before her, to meet daddy.
As angels never dined on human food, preferring ambrose and nectar, the need for speed in sending the devil's witches into oblivion was evident by the smell of post roasted, ready for the table, mother.
That and Michael had just about had enough of the devil's randy daughters.
It had been several centuries since he was last on earth, and it was obvious to him that he was rather out of touch. The six sexually rampant, stunningly beautiful, voluptuous Dewar sisters, looking nothing like the wart ridden hags he'd expected, were a shock. He wanted to go home.
“Need some help?” An unexpected voice enquired. Dressed in 18th century highwayman garb, a seedy looking, hoping to pass for a gentleman, and not making it, tallish man with a pock marked face materialized on the spot Coral had just departed from.
“Who are you?” Michael quizzed the suddenly appeared.
“I'm a guardian angel.”
“You what? I know all the angels in heaven, and I've never met you before. Who are you? Why are you here?”
“Reasonable questions. Okay so you got rid of the three other sisters on your own, but do you really think you can take on the last three of the devil's spawn without some help? Especially in such confined quarters as this cramped room.” The new guardian angel replied.
“Who sent you?”
The answer was elusive, “The boss.”
“Ah but not mine I'm thinking.” Michael countered.
“Never said it was yours - did I squire? You don't think Satan is about to let you thwart his plans. I'm here to stop you smiting his girls back to hell. So piss off and leave the young ladies alone.” The demon snarled annoyed his disguise had been so easily seen through.
To call those repulsive creatures, young ladies, was an overstatement. Michael was about to point it out, when Satan's little helper lunged at him with a red hot pitchfork.
He did what any sensible angel would do, he buggered off back next door to think of a new strategy.
In the battle between good and evil. Good generally wins. This inevitable outcome was not lost on Dick. It was how he had got to be a demon in the first place. He was evil. The county sheriff of York, who arrested him, wasn't. The hangman who tightened the rope around his neck, in Dick's option, was as evil as he was, but the crowd cheering for his demise thought otherwise.
The highwayman Dick Turpin, had lived in an age when justice for the wicked was dispensed at the end of a hangman's noose. Like Michael, it had been awhile since he had been allowed back on earth, and he had every intention of making the most of the few precious hours he'd been given.
Shagging all three of the remaining Dewar sisters at the same time, as far as he was concerned, would definitely constitute making the most of it. When he was alive, Dick considered himself to have a well deserved reputation as a ladies man. He had no intention of letting these particular ladies down, after all, he had no idea when the opportunity to show off his prowess would present itself again.
“Cooeee...” Three voices trilled from the dining room.
Sometime later a satiated demon wiped the dribbled gravy from his mouth, and said with appreciation, “She was delicious. How about the four of us having wild uncontrollable sex together?”
Demons, just like angels, have the ability to show themselves in the form that is most pleasing to whoever it is, who wants to be pleased.
Jade, Pearl and Ruby, shot delighted glances at each other, nodded agreement, stripped naked, and ran squealing with anticipated pleasure up the stairs to their departed parents double bedded room.
“Dick by name – dick by nature.” The highwayman turned demon commentated as he pushed, his substantial pleasure weapon, as hard as he could up Ruby's warm wet, awaiting pussy.
On all fours, backside upwards, Ruby climaxed soon after the first few thuds of Dick's, vast, fat rolled belly hit her jutting buttocks. As he thrust away, she revelled in each flap of his mountainous flesh against the tight smoothness of her own.
A couple of hundred years without sex, was, as far as Dick was concerned, going to take a lot of satisfying, and as he was on a time schedule, he got down to business as fast as he could. Not easy when who've got three insatiable sexual fiends to satisfy.
Whilst Ruby recovered, he gave Jade what she had been waiting for. He let her lick him in the places she thought was a woman's erogenous zone. Dick had enjoyed oral sex when he was alive. Not that he got it much. Living at a time when bathing had not been considered necessary that and being on the run from the law didn't allow for a lot of washing. Women, even smelly ones were often put off by the pong of his unwashed nob-head. He lay back on the pillow, arms behind his head and enjoyed the sensuous sensation of Jade's tongue, lips and open mouth giving him her all. The irony that she thought she was sucking pussy made the moment that bit more special.
“Hoy – it's my turn.” Pearl complained yanking Jade back with a sharp tug of her long black hair. Not giving Jade a second chance she clambered on top of the little man her sister had been so enthusiastically sucking off.
Whilst happy to let Pearl think he was 3 foot tall. He refused to include his penis in the deal. Dick kept his dick's well endowed length, which surprised and delighted Pearl.
“For such a little man you are oh so BIG.” She enthused at the jumbo sized proportions of the highwayman's engorged weapon. Her eyes widened almost as much as her legs, as he showed her exactly how jumbo sized his weapon was.
Many sexually rampant hours after they'd jumped into bed, with the women finally satisfied, and his weapon out of ammunition, Dick Turpin, fell into a deep sleep of the sexually exhausted. Lost in the carnal pleasures of his charges, the mission to watch over, and keep safe the sisters now sleeping the same exhausted sleep beside him, forgotten. The danger of an angel bent on wiping from the face of existence all of the devil's spawn, was completely wiped from his feckless self-centred 18th century highwayman's mind.
Angels were the strong. They never slept. Angels had right on their side.
Demons on the other hand were weak minded and indolent. And they definitely didn't have right on their side.
Michael held these comforting thoughts as he unfurled his wings on the front lawn of the Dewar house, and rose majestically up into the air. He hovered, eye level with the ex-parents bedroom window, where in sexual contentment, unaware of the danger outside bliss, the daughter's of Satan, and a dead highwayman lay loudly snoring.
With the enthusiasm of the true zealot, the angel Michael called out to the almighty as he drew from his inner soul the greatest smite he'd ever smote.
Dark clouds rolled in the heavens, a storm of torrential rain fell, thunder clashed and lightening bolts dashed blue and yellow across the early morning sky. All this of course, was only happening over the Dewar's house. The rest of the sleeping town, slept on, never knowing of the battle between heaven and hell, happening in their midst.
A white light of purest intensity shone out from Michael's goodness, “Take that.” He yelled shattering the window glass, and sending the last of the wicked Dewar sisters back to daddy.
In another part of the town, Susan D'eath dreamed of her imaginary lover. He was tall, dark and handsome. He spoke soft words and caressed her where she longed to be caressed. Not for him, the quick in and out of a husband who puffed and panted till he was done, then rolled over to sleep, his selfish, satisfied sleep, leaving his wife to wonder what was the point of sex. Her night lover took his time as he brought her to the first orgasm she'd ever had. Six times he brought her to a climax. Such wonderful memories she would cherish – until the day she died.
It was a funny thing, no one in their family had ever had so much as twins, let alone, sextuplets, Susan's mother remarked the day Susan D'eath's daughters were born.
The same day as the late Dewar sisters birthday.
October 31st. - Halloween.
thanks for reading this post
Josephine Sanchez Vanner
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