Servant Makes My Housewife Mom His Sex Slave
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A Servant Of WisdomChapter 11 free porn video
"LILITH!"
The male voice was closer. Zak's heart beat faster.
A memory flashed before his mind. Krissy had told him a story. A tale of a small little boy, hiding from a large ogre. How the ogre stomped all over the forest, yelling, cursing. But he never found the little boy, who lived happily ever after.
There would be no hiding this time. No running.
He staggered to his feet, manhood half limp, sticky with evidence of their union. Lilith shot up next to him, too fast for the boy to even offer help. They stood, nude, as a shape appeared in the trees. Lilith grasped his hand.
"Grandpa..."
The man was tall. Old. Blue denim overalls hung on a frame that once had been muscular, but still showed strength. Zak had never seen overalls, outside of a movie or TV. Had not thought they existed, were just some relic of the past, like white hooded robes or white powder wigs. The man wore a white short sleeved shirt under it, clean, but worn, like the denim itself, or the man. His face was clean shaven, head bald. Brown eyes were deeply set, as if age had caused them to fall back into his skull. Those eyes widened in shock, horror, as they fell on the two lovers.
"Lilith!"
The girl slid behind Zak, pain shooting through his hand as she squeezed. Her grandfather looked around him. Eyes falling on a two foot long hunk of wood, he bent down to grab it.
"Grandpa! No!"
Lilith's voice only seemed to enrage him. The man lunged forward, weapon raised.
"Get away from her!"
Zak didn't think. He found himself disengaged from the girl, dropping to his knees as she staggered back. Calm hands found smooth rubber. The sling rose, a metal slug already loaded, pulled back as far as he was able.
He released.
"GRANDPA!"
There was a crack. A thud, as the hunk of wood dropped to the forrest floor. The man, no longer an ogre, dropped to his knees, one hand clutching his forehead. The other, barely, broke his fall as his body fell forward. A whimper of pain oozed from the old man. Lilith rushed to his side, grasping him.
"Grandpa! I'm sorry! Speak to me! Please!" She whirled to Zak, blue eyes blazing. "What did you DO!?"
Zak felt cold.
He had hurt someone. Hurt an old man. The grandfather of the girl he loved. He wanted to take it back. Go back five seconds, ten seconds. Do something different. Anything. He had never hurt someone. Never wanted to hurt someone...
Lilith eased the man back, sitting him down on the ground, legs unfolded in front of him. Blood dripped from between fingers still clutching his forehead. Zak had barely begun to look around for something to help when Lilith pulled a surprisingly clean blue handkerchief from an overall pocket. She folded it, pulled her grandpa's hand away, slipping it onto the wound before placing his hand back on top of it. Her head dropped down, eyes focusing on his face.
"It's not that bad. Are you OK? Say something!"
A large, wrinkled hand reached out, touching her bare knee.
"D-did he hurt you? Are you OK, Lilith?"
She smiled, hand covering his.
"He didn't hurt me, Grandpa. I'm so sorry. I know he didn't mean it. You just scared him." Her eyes, suddenly hard, bore into Zak. Millennium of evolution told him exactly what to do. He dropped to one knee before the man, although staying well out of reach.
"I'm sorry."
Adult eyes fell on him, slowly focusing. Zak swallowed hard. He didn't like dealing with adults. Didn't know how. Just Tom. He wasn't an adult, he was his new Dad. Real adults frightened Zak...
Those deep set eyes changed. Widened. Zak thought he saw ... fear? The man was frightened? Of him? Why?
"Grandpa!"
Zak looked at Lilith. She was looking down at her Grandfather's hand, its large fingers gripping her knee tightly. Zak could see white and red on her skin, the man cutting off blood. His eyes went back to the man's. The adult's expression was cold.
"I know," the man said, "what you are."
"Grandpa?" Lilith's voice was worried. "Grandpa, you're hurting me."
"Stay away from him, Girl. This one is touched. Evil."
"Grandpa! No he's not! Let go!"
"Yes he IS! Look at him! He has the mark! Evil has marked him!"
Zak rose.
Enough. Enough of this foolishness.
"Let her go."
"I will NOT let you have her!"
"GRANDPA!"
The man jerked back, hand grasping nothing. Lilith scrambled away, struggling to her feet, finger marks still on her bare leg. Zak found his sling back in his hand, another slug half pulled back.
"Stay there! Don't follow us!"
"Lilith! Don't follow him! This boy is evil! Can't you see it? Can't you feel it? Come here! Please!"
"Lilith, grab your stuff and get behind me!"
She hesitated. Zak saw her looking at her Grandfather. Could feel the tug of war inside her. If she went to him, all would be lost. Zak would never see her again. His eyes caught hers.
"Please. Lilith. I love you. Come with me. I'll protect you."
"He's lying! If you love Jesus, please, get away from him!"
One of those words must have been the wrong one, or one of Zak's the right one. Grabbing the pile of discarded clothing, the slim teen slowly walked to Zak's side. Her hand touched his arm, eyes wide with emotion.
"Don't hurt him. Please. Let's go."
"Lilith! Don't do it!"
Zak let the sling relax, metal slug releasing into his hand.
"Do not follow us."
Turning from the bleeding man, he grabbed his staff from against the tree, his other hand taking that of his wife. Swiftly, he led her deeper into the forest. Towards Eden.
James watched the two youngsters vanish into the trees.
He would not have believed it. Had not believed it. He was not a gullible man, after all. Religious, yes. Very. But not a fool. Not all the Holy Book said was Holy, and not all the minister said on Sunday's was gospel truth. No. Much as allusion, metaphor.
But the boy had the mark.
He had seen it. There, as plain as day. Strangely, James could not describe what he had seen, with the boy no longer there before him. Was not even sure he could have called it out to Lilith, for all she was standing right there and surely must have seen it herself. The mark. The mark, not of the Beast, perhaps, but of some otherworldly, unholy creature. Unchristian. More importantly, evil.
And she had gone. His granddaughter. Lilith. She had chosen this evil boy, over him. Much as her mother, his little Rachael, had chosen some Catholic, Atheist, whatever, from the city over him. She had left for love. Lilith...
James sighed, struggling to his feet, one hand still holding the cloth to his forehead. He couldn't blame her. The boy was beautiful. If he, as a teen, had found a similar brown skinned beauty in the woods, James would have gone to her, no questions asked. He was only human, and youth was foolish. And, he could be wrong. The mark might not be what he thought it was. His granddaughter might not be in danger.
Something moved by his foot.
James kicked out, even as a snake shot its head towards him. Fangs grabbed thick boot leather. He whirled, sending the side of his boot against the trunk of a tree. The sound of crunching came from the snake's body. He did it again. Again.
The snake fell to the ground, body limp.
James looked around the forest, eyes wary.
"Stay before me, Satan. Where I can keep an eye on you."
He knew where his granddaughter would be. Someone was living on that land, an old blue hatchback often now parked by the old gate. That would be the place. Should he try and rescue her? If it was safe for him to just go get her, then she was in no danger and there was no reason for him to go just yet. If she was in danger, true danger ... most likely, he wouldn't make it ten feet inside.
He's wait. Pray. Let time pass. Be there if she fled, or sent word. He loved her, after all. Wanted her to be happy.
And ... he could be wrong.
Lilith felt the very air around her change.
The day, up until that point, had been a dream. Unreal. Much of her life the past year she wished had not been real. That she could wake, find her parents standing there beside the bed. Mom telling her it had all been a bad dream. Dad hugging her, telling her everything would be all right. That life could continue on as it always been.
No. That had been real. So, too, must this be.
Marisol
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