CHAPTER 1

 

Deveril had every reason to feel contented with the progress he was making in establishing his own brand of religion in America. Senator Dalby had trusted him implicitly and the shapely young daughter, her mother and yet a further friend had all succumbed to the strange magnetism coupled with the Birth-Rite Spells he had been able to practice on the victims of his choice.

The smooth running engine of the powerful car could not be heard above the sound of his own pursed lipped whistle. He approached the small town and as he drove through the main thoroughfare, he saw the wedding party as it came from the church. His foot pressed lightly onto the brake pedal. As the car slowly passed the lovely young bride, Deveril responded to a deep hungry urge to spoil the husband's first night. He had nothing against the husband as such, but his loins felt a swelling response at the sheer beauty of the innocent faced blonde who was laughing excitedly as she clutched the crooked arm of the man to whom she had just promised to share the rest of her life. The attractive youngster drove the car to an empty parking space and with something like diffident casualness, alighted from the seat. He did not lock the car door; he knew that if anybody dared to attempt to interfere with the car or the contents, the intruder would long be sorry for any such foolishness!

The Devil's emissary, son or priest, whatever name he chose to accept on behalf of Lucifer, stood stony faced, his deep almost violet pupils studying the shapely excited young woman as she posed for the numerous photographs the commercially minded photographer took of her. It was not until the well-wishers swarmed forward to kiss the bride that Deveril moved away from the spot to which he had patiently sited himself. With the crowd he became swallowed up as just another well-wisher, and then he was standing immediately before the lovely young woman who had taken his vision when he had driven past. She did not even think to question him; he was just another member of the large number who, as far as she was concerned, had come to see her married, and then her lips met his. Deveril sensed the soft receptiveness of her tulips buds for a mouth; he felt her mouth gently but urgently accept the caress of his own spell-binding mouth, and when he took his face from hers, he could see the confusion and mingled excitement in her own blue, blue eyes. Her breath had caught in her throat as the first signs of doubt flooded her ... her forehead wrinkled just slightly as she became aware of a strangely sweet yet demanding urgency inside her whole body to get to know this very attractively handsome young man. Then he was gone with the rest of the congregation. People were pressing her lips to theirs, but the lovely bride was by now confused and her throbbing breasts were seeming to swell erotically inside her bra.

Throughout the reception dinner, she found herself scanning the faces of the well-wishers and relations, and she also found herself worried that she might have lost the young man whom she felt she HAD to meet again. What she could not possibly have known was that by the end of that evening, she would be posed nakedly, her shapely torso receptive to the castigation and obedient commands of Deveril, the gifted disciple of Satan!

With his self assured calmness, Deveril learned the whereabouts of the newly-weds' suite and removing a large leather black case from the boot of his car, he walked slowly and perfectly poised to the isolated bridal rooms. He threw the case onto the bed and his thumbs prised the fastening catches. He extracted the tapering ebony type cane and gripped the plaited handle with determined intent. A rare smile played on his sensitive mouth as he visualised the pretty bride presenting herself for the fiery kiss of his cane.

His own artistically shaped fingers opened the cigarette case and he flicked the lighter to ignite the end of the white tube. With impersonal ease, he lay back on the bed dragging smoke into his lungs, his eyes closed, but his senses very aware and acutely attuned. After stubbing out the expensive cigarette, Deveril lay absolutely still and was statuesque in his own posed immobility.

He seemed to tire after the thirty minutes and his impatience to have the shapely bride before him became a nagging worry. He pressed his forefingers to the lumps of his temple and closed his eyes. Over the mystic ether, his thought waves sent out urgent demands, and Deveril's demands were never questioned. After the barest amount of time, he relaxed again; he knew that within minutes, the lovely woman would come through the door.

Debbie was just beginning to frown at the inebriated condition of her husband. Somehow, the handsome young man had succumbed to the alcohol very quickly, and although he was more than bemused at his sudden incapacity to hold his liqueur, he just could not prevent the extreme drowsiness that filled his head and his body with the same reaction as though he was very drunk. Suddenly, Debbie was beside him, taking his elbow and wishing everybody goodnight. She had felt a distinct urgent need to get away from these people, and to retire to her room. She had hoped to have a long sexual experience tonight, and her whole body and mind had been keyed up to being petted and physically loved by her husband. At last, she managed by herself to guide him to the quietude of their bridal suite. She jumped noticeably when she walked into her large bedroom. Her eyes stared in blended thrills, fascination and a deep sense of fear. Sprawled on the bed was the strange young man whom she had seen that afternoon.

Her husband looked at the bed, but by now his befuddled mind was in a completely uncomprehending state. Deveril easily raised himself and approached the couple. His two hands came out and he held the young husband's face. Debbie's newly made partner went into the realms of deep unconsciousness. Wildly she stared at Deveril, expressing in her face the fear that she felt.

"He will be all right," Deveril told her softly.

The very words seemed to re-assure her, and in her own deep confusion she could not understand why she did not demand explanations and apologies. She knew it was all wrong, she knew everything was very badly set for her, yet could not really find it in her to argue. Some small part of her felt a sense of elation at seeing the stranger here, and something that she did not acknowledge was telling her that tonight, she would be the bride of this person who seemed to have such a command over her very inner being.

It was when he pushed her deeply unconscious husband into another room that Debbie saw the cane. Her eyes stared wildly at the tapering instrument, and terrible shudders throbbed through her body. She was not that naive that she did not recognise the intent of the punishment stick laying on the bed. Deveril smiled when he returned to the room and saw the terror in her blushing features.

"Come here," he said. The two demanding, commanding words were softly power filled, and Debbie's eyes flicked from the large bed towards her Master. Swallowing the lump of apprehension from her throat, she walked on what she felt were wooden legs towards him.

"Please," her mouth framed the word and it came from her like a breath of fear filled terror.

He waited for her to be standing before him: his eyes stared down into her own, and Debbie felt herself responding to sweet thrilling vibrations that emitted from his very depths to embrace her own mind and then she felt a complete loss of control over herself. She became receptive of her own surrender to him, and although it filled her with a deep sense of sheer terror and horror, she knew that her body was going to be punished. When she felt his hands round her own face, Debbie shuddered, but it was not in fear. A thrilling sweetness pervaded through to her very soul. She offered him her lips when his serious, handsome face came down to meet hers. Her eyes closed and sheer thrilling pleasure speared into her; hunger waves of passion ignited inside her body and her juices seemed to emit from the very core of her sexuality. As his lips chewed on her mouth, so his fingers easily unzipped the dress; Debbie was aware of the coolness surrounding the smooth creamy skin of her back as the dress parted without support of the zipper. She moaned as the fine material was eased down her shoulders. She wished she had worn a bra, she found herself thinking, but when she had dressed for the after-dinner dances, it had been with her husband in mind! And now, with no brassiere to hide them, her softly rounded melons were free to this stranger's eyes and fondling fingers. She gasped as her breasts became like swelling balloons as his hands closed over the ripe lushness of them. Debbie gasped as her body reacted to the hot fire kindling her sexuality.

"Mmmmmmm ... yes ... oooooh yes ... pleeeease," her voice mewed as she eased her shoulders back to thrust her tits forward. Again she moaned and gasped out as pleasure pain filled her torrid mounds when he deliberately pinched the hard aching nipples in his fingers. The blood gorged flinty knobs responded to his mauling fingers; he twisted them without gentleness, and Debbie's head shot back as sweet agony ripped through her body.