justspitballing
Literotica Guru
- Joined
- Oct 11, 2020
- Posts
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This is a closed thread with Kililia. Scenes of intense non-con will be throughout the story and the thread will likely not shy away from forcing its main woman lead into horrible situations and a good few scenes may go beyond what is physically possible with sex. This story is about a demonic being having its way with a simple town girl and an evil sex driven cult. Enjoy!
***
The town of Witfield had a population of a little over a hundred and Villy’s home was just at the edge of it, before the wall, before the woods which of course no one was allowed to enter. He was a simple man, a man that knew just what was needed. He knew the church at the center of town saw to it that crops were plentiful and the weather was calm. They saw to protecting the town and blessing it by the hand of The Resting Man. They needed to be obeyed for the town to do well and for people to grow closer to The Resting Man, and this was the extent of his knowledge. That was the extent of a lot of the knowledge for most of Witfield.
The Resting Man is of course a being that is well beyond the towns folk. A being that should simply be trusted. A being that the God of the rest of the world cast out because they feared his power. A being that lived deep in the Earth and used people as vessels, every generation using these vessels to spawn the next leader of the Church, the next leader of Witfield.
Villy stood in the doorway of his daughter’s room. She slept soundly, a birthmark of a small figure on her shoulder, just lightly covered by a blanket. The mark meant she would be the next one used to give birth to a leader for the town. The ritual would be held this morning now that she was old enough. Soon the sun would be rising and Villy would have to take her to church. He had kept her destiny hidden from her, but soon she would be well aware of what was expected. After the ritual was done The Resting Man would wake, inhabited the people of the town, and father a child with his daughter, no matter how she felt about it.
It was the right thing for the Church to do, it’s what they needed to do, but it was still hard on Villy for him to allow this, though he didn’t know why. He was forty-five; a black, but greying beard on his chin that looked a bit more like a poorly cut stubble. Glasses held tightly on his face and a tall and imposing body frame. His hair a bit more wild then it should have been and his eyes a simple brown. He was dressed in his finest clothing for the day and watched his daughter rest until the sun did rise and he needed to wake her.
As that time past he thought back to the good life he lived in this town. His wife had died with his daughter’s birth. She had given birth to two sons before her, one now twenty two of age, and the other twenty. So Villy still had a good family, though now the two sons lived on their own and it was just him and his daughter. He did care for her deeply and she knew that no matter what happened she would still love him after today, at least that’s what he thought.
Once the sun did rise he slowly wandered over and patted his daughter’s shoulder kindly. “Get up before the day leaves you behind. We have a special church service to get to,” he said as he woke her.
***
The town of Witfield had a population of a little over a hundred and Villy’s home was just at the edge of it, before the wall, before the woods which of course no one was allowed to enter. He was a simple man, a man that knew just what was needed. He knew the church at the center of town saw to it that crops were plentiful and the weather was calm. They saw to protecting the town and blessing it by the hand of The Resting Man. They needed to be obeyed for the town to do well and for people to grow closer to The Resting Man, and this was the extent of his knowledge. That was the extent of a lot of the knowledge for most of Witfield.
The Resting Man is of course a being that is well beyond the towns folk. A being that should simply be trusted. A being that the God of the rest of the world cast out because they feared his power. A being that lived deep in the Earth and used people as vessels, every generation using these vessels to spawn the next leader of the Church, the next leader of Witfield.
Villy stood in the doorway of his daughter’s room. She slept soundly, a birthmark of a small figure on her shoulder, just lightly covered by a blanket. The mark meant she would be the next one used to give birth to a leader for the town. The ritual would be held this morning now that she was old enough. Soon the sun would be rising and Villy would have to take her to church. He had kept her destiny hidden from her, but soon she would be well aware of what was expected. After the ritual was done The Resting Man would wake, inhabited the people of the town, and father a child with his daughter, no matter how she felt about it.
It was the right thing for the Church to do, it’s what they needed to do, but it was still hard on Villy for him to allow this, though he didn’t know why. He was forty-five; a black, but greying beard on his chin that looked a bit more like a poorly cut stubble. Glasses held tightly on his face and a tall and imposing body frame. His hair a bit more wild then it should have been and his eyes a simple brown. He was dressed in his finest clothing for the day and watched his daughter rest until the sun did rise and he needed to wake her.
As that time past he thought back to the good life he lived in this town. His wife had died with his daughter’s birth. She had given birth to two sons before her, one now twenty two of age, and the other twenty. So Villy still had a good family, though now the two sons lived on their own and it was just him and his daughter. He did care for her deeply and she knew that no matter what happened she would still love him after today, at least that’s what he thought.
Once the sun did rise he slowly wandered over and patted his daughter’s shoulder kindly. “Get up before the day leaves you behind. We have a special church service to get to,” he said as he woke her.