Chapter 11
I lied to her. I’m not proud of it, but I lied to Amy. I told her it would never happen again, but I can’t really promise that. Not when there’s this overwhelming rage that simmers in me day by day knowing that for a while there, she was willing to ignore my will—her soon-to-be husband’s will—and refuse to have a child.
Now, I’ll just have to fuck her willingly. It’s harder, honestly, to keep it up when it’s not a corpse, but when I approach her as she sleeps, which is the next best thing, she doesn’t resist me when she eventually wakes from me fucking her, touching her.
And I’m pretty proud of myself, actually.
I found a new girl to watch, to observe. It seems like they come more often lately, like I become interested more easily. And maybe that’s because I’m so eager to expand this little family we’re building.
Three weeks pass, while I’ve been stalking this girl Janelle. Hm. Maybe stalking isn’t the best word; I simply gauge whether she’d be a good addition to our family, whether she’s worthy enough for my offer.
She’s a stripper just like Amy was, but she works for a club called Scuttlebutts in South Philly.
I decide to really immerse myself in this world of neon lights and intrigue; the night scene of Philadelphia. And to do so… I bring Amy along.
It’s her first time being out of the house since I acquired her, and to say she’s nervous is an understatement. Or perhaps excited?
She’s nearly shaking beside me, her grip on my hand like a vise.
“Can we see Amelia while we’re out?” she asks.
Ah. I see.
Well, I’d be a dick if I said no…
“I’ll think about it,” I say instead.
I’m excited too, but it’s for an entirely different reason as we walk along the chipped sidewalk and past multi-story buildings holding the seediest secrets of the city.
When we come upon Scuttlebutts, her brows furrow in confusion. “A strip club? I thought we were avoiding things like that.”
“Patience, child,” I scold, my voice low. “We’re observing these sinners for a higher purpose.”
Why did I bring her out?
Because I want her to look through new eyes at this sinful world she used to dwell in. Not to mention if she sees Janelle, I want her opinion on her; she knows by now that I spend my nights looking for others who could be like her, and as far as I know I haven’t seen any jealousy.
I wonder why , a small part of me whispers. Does she not want me all to herself? Why not?
But maybe it’s better this way. I’m meant to expand our home, our family, our new world, and I can’t do that if I’m only limited to one woman. Not to mention what the Bible says about building that family: “Like arrows in the hand of a warrior,
So are the children of one’s youth.” Psalm 127:4.
I’m working to craft a new world. Children will be essential parts of that.
Entering the strip club, I’m caught off guard by the overwhelming scent of jasmine and musk.
Strobe lights illuminate women in cages dancing to a hypnotic beat. The poles are just as busy, with beautiful women gyrating and twirling around the metal fixtures with reckless abandon. Eager men lean forward in leather chairs around tables, enraptured by the scene before them.
“Look at all this through a new lens,” I command Amy as we delve further into the dark. “Through what you’ve learned from me.”
Spotting Janelle, I smile to myself. Bingo.
She’s got black hair tied into a long braid and freckled skin with pink contacts in her eyes. It’s mesmerizing watching her saunter around the stage with her pink thong and nothing else.
It’s been a few weeks of watching her now. Yet another possible conquest, another possible wife.
I guide Amy to take a seat in one of the booths in the joint, concealed in shadows and illuminated only by strobe lights.
Here, we have a good view of the entire club.
So many sinners, so many ripe for Hell.
But one girl I hope to save among them.
“What do you see?” I whisper to Amy, peering over the crowd and dancers.
“So much sin,” she whispers back. “I can’t believe I was a part of this before.”
“Mm.” I nod thoughtfully. “But you’re free from this life. What do you say we free another?”
Her head swivels to face me. “Tonight?”
“Indeed. I think tonight would be good. It’s your first time out, a real treat. And what would make it better other than converting someone just like you used to be?” I tease.
Her eyes gleam in the shadows. I can tell she’s nervous, but there’s a glimmer of excitement in her gaze. In the way she hungrily looks out over the club.
“I have someone in mind,” I murmur. “She goes by Juicy.” Licking my lips, I say, “How about we get a private dance?”
All in the name of converting, of getting this sinner out of this Hell. But who says we can’t have fun along the way? Maybe Amy’s growing on me with her easygoing ways.
She nods, and I flag down Janelle when I spot her again. She props her hand on her him, leaning closer so her bare breasts are nearly in my face. I almost roll my eyes at the disgusting display of sinful flesh, but I can’t deny the arousal pulsing in my pants. Amy watches curiously.
“What can I do for you, darling?” Janelle drawls.
“A private dance for both of us.” Flashing a hundred from my wallet, I smirk. “And we want… a little extra. There’s more where that came from.”
I already knew she commonly whored herself out in this place in the VIP booths.
“Mmmmm, date night?” Janelle croons, reaching out a hand to stroke Amy’s delicate cheek. “Yes, sir. Follow me.”
We trail after her to the VIP rooms, entering one and being greeted by pink velvet lounge chairs and a plush velvet couch that beckons me and Amy closer with its softness. The lighting is a dim purple that evokes a sense of want, of need.
As Janelle starts dancing over us, I can see the desire in Amy’s face clear as day. The woman moves closer, rubbing her tits in Amy’s face, and I encourage her to touch them.
It’s like a spark of something new ignites in her expression when she makes contact with the woman’s breasts. She moans, and the two of them kiss. I hold their heads together with my hands, gentle but firm, and throw my own back to groan at the sight. It’s so fucking hot, even if it’s technically forbidden before marriage.
See, I don’t believe the stuff about how same-sex intimacy is a sin. I think that’s a load of bullshit, that it’s nowhere actually in the Bible.
And seeing my beautiful girl making out with this potential wife of ours? Fuuuuck.
I start stroking my cock over my jeans, but before I can take it out, Janelle beats me to it. She strokes me as Amy moves to kiss my neck, and I hum in approval. My good, gorgeous girl.
The two of them kiss again, then move to kiss me together, our tongues and teeth and lips a clash of need and dominance.
Janelle continues stroking me, and I command of Amy, “Kneel.”
She obeys, obediently lowering to the floor.
“Suck me off,” I order.
In an instant, I’m in her mouth, her tongue laving over my hardened cock and her fingers caressing my balls. I grip her hair, lifting her face. “Show me those pretty jaws,” I say then, and she bares her teeth.
I smirk, lowering her by her hair back down to my cock, which she worships with her skilled mouth.
Janelle lowers a moment later, and they both take turns sucking and kissing my cock.
God, I’m in Heaven. Hallowed be thy fucking name. I’m loving this.
The music thumps with a hard base, and the girls move in sync as they go faster, and faster, and faster. I’m close. I’m fucking close.
I pull away and squirt my cum on their faces, rubbing it into their cheeks with the head of my cock. Godddd. That was fucking hot. Good girls.
There’s big potential for Janelle if she can keep this up outside the club.
When the private dance is over, Janelle is still so worked up that I invite her to come home with us.
She accepts, and we drive back to the house; all of us stroking and caressing each other in passion.
Yet when we reach the gravel drive of the house, I already know what awaits us. What awaits Janelle, if she says no.
She has to say yes in order to make it out of tonight alive. Little does she know.
But Amy knows, and her expression darkens as we cross the threshold of the house. There’s a noticeable shift in mood when we close the front door, and Janelle shifts uneasily on her feet, pulling her coat tighter against her.
“We have a proposition for you,” I say slowly, turning from Amy to Janelle.
“A threesome, yeah?” Janelle laughs nervously. “Isn’t that what we agreed to? I’m down.”
I shake my head, and her face falls.
“No, Janelle, I mean something regarding your salvation.”
“H-how do you know my real name?” she stammers, echoing a sentiment Amy had herself long, long ago. It feels so far from us now.
“I’ve been watching you.”
So, so similar, yet oh so different. This is a new soul, a new prospect, and there’s so much potential here if she says yes. Expanding our family.
“There are three absolutes in this life. We all are sinners, sin must be purged, and the truth must be shared with the world. If you accept our offer to join us, you will be spared from that purge,” I drawl.
“And what happens if I refuse?” Janelle challenges, the unfortunately typical response of a sinner too far gone from the will of God.
“Then you perish.”
She scoffs, heading for the door. “Fuck this.”
In a flash, I grasp her hair, yanking her back. My knife is out in the next instant, and I begin to pray as I slowly slit her throat as she thrashes against me to get free. “Forgive her, Lord, for she knows not what she does.”
She drops to the ground, convulsing as blood flows freely from her neck and starts to soak the hardwood floor.
Amy watches this all with no emotion on her face. I’m surprised at her bravery; the first kill is definitely not easy. But what she says next is what truly surprises me: “What do we do now?”
Not a rejection. Not a scream or a shriek or any of the terrible things that could come from rejecting the Lord’s will. She wants to know more .
“Now… we cut her into twelve pieces; one for every apostle of Jesus Christ,” I explain carefully.
“Can… can I help?” Amy whispers.
I’ve never been so proud.