After flubbing a powerful incantation, meant to give newly coronated Demon Queens the wisdom of their ancestors, Devilla Satanne awakens to memories of her past life as Jacob Divington, a human from Earth. Having gained a new perspective on life, she quickly comes to a rather horrifying conclusion: she's been a complete and utter brat! No wonder everyone hates her!

And then there's the fact that she's apparently been reincarnated as the villainess of Tower Conquest, a lesbian porn game with a surprisingly intricate plot. One in which the Heroine conquers Dimona Tower, turning Devilla's people against her in the process. In victory, the Heroine brings about a glorious age of peace between demons and humans for the first time in millennia. ...Which actually sounds pretty good for her people, come to think of it. Devilla knows her terrible behavior is beyond forgiveness, but maybe she can still make up for her past mistakes? She just needs to make sure the events of the game unfold correctly. Though there is one little detail she'd like to change - the part where Devilla herself is killed or enslaved!

The series cover was commissioned from https://twitter.com/HaizeUqei

This is the final chapter of Samantha’s story (I do have other content set in the Sissy Camp universe). It’s also my first completed, public story, so I want to thank everyone who has read so far. If you’ve enjoyed it, I’d suggest you subscribe to my patreon where we have 21 Sasha Sucklove’s, 7 Bimbo 101s, 7 Stud Clara and Sissy Missys, a few one shots and 36 captions.

Honeymoon Reveal
A Short Story
By Maryanne Peters

We had only been married for three years at the time and we had never enjoyed a proper honeymoon. The fact was that after we had met on a dating site and almost immediately, she had thrown herself in to caring for my young sons … and me. My sons and I had all been devastated by the loss of my first wife Marion, their mother, only a year before I met Cherise, but she helped to pull us all out of our dark mood. She said that it was all she wanted - to bury herself in a loving family.

So, here we are again. Please enjoy another random chapter of the weirdness.

Chronicles of Ashley Elizabeth Fisherman
Northern Flags in Southwinds Flutter

-4-
What is the price to pay? Hell the prince to pay!

Chapter 23

It was early in the morning when Willow’s phone alarm woke her. She was slightly disorientated to wake up in a strange room. She looked around and remembered that she was going home in a taxi with her father today. She went to the bathroom and prepared for the day. When she came out, wearing one of the hotel dressing gowns, her father was waiting to go in.

A woman wakes in an alley with no name, no memories, and a haunting sense that something is terribly wrong. But one word stirs something deep Artemis. With only that name and flashes of strange things, she’s thrust into a world she doesn’t recognize. As she searches for clues to her identity and what happened to her it becomes clear her past isn’t just lost… it may be dangerous.

Part 33

Earn it, how? He had already done more than enough to humiliate and degrade himself. Of course, most of that was from before Julia slipped the cage on him. And Amy was clearly treating it as something separate from the ever increasing amount of leverage she had on him.

He just waited for her to explain. Talking like a girl still wasn’t something that came naturally, even if he was getting more and more used to it after being chastised every time he sounded like a boy.

Chapter 3: “Whispers of Conspiracy”

A Minor Job, a Major Gut Feeling

Chapter 1: “Dockside Ghosts”

Arrival at the Dock

The shuttle's recycled air tasted of protein slurry and something metallic—burnt capacitors, perhaps. A soft, low hum from the engines shook the shuttle. With every breath, Lena’s perfume—a bittersweet lavender ghost—clung to the air, triggering a phantom ache in my chest. I reached beneath my shirt, fingers brushing the outline of the Star of David pendant. My mother’s gift. A small, silent comfort in the rising tide of unease.

I rushed to the music hall, grabbed my bass from Mr. Smith and went into the empty studio used for small ensembles or practice for electric instruments. It was almost soundproof inside and I would take that to my advantage to run scales and patterns. I strapped my wood grain bass over me and started to play a somber sounding melody, at least I liked to think it was.

Bianca returns to Chicago for Thanksgiving and finds a few surprises awaiting her.

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