A Foreign Evil: Diablo Snuff 1: An Erotic Horror Read online

  A Foreign Evil

  Diablo Snuff Book 1

  An Erotic Horror

  By: Carver Pike

  A Foreign Evil: Diablo Snuff Book 1

  2nd Edition

  Copyright © 2015 by Carver Pike

  Published by Erotic Mayberry Publishing

  Written by Carver Pike

  Cover created by Carver Pike

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  http://www.eroticmayberry.com

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  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Dedication

  I’ve been a fan of horror stories and scary movies since I was kid. I remember sitting in front of the TV, just a foot or two away from the screen, watching The Texas Chainsaw Massacre and Poltergeist and The Exorcist and Friday the 13th. One of the first books I thoroughly enjoyed was Halloween, the novel by Curtis Richards that was based on the John Carpenter movie. I’ve always been fascinated by fear.

  Fast forward a few years and here I am spending most of my time writing erotica. I love putting everyday people in sensual settings. So it just seemed to make sense to blend my two passions and see what kind of child was birthed.

  This book, Diablo Snuff: A Foreign Evil, is my first of what I hope will be many erotic horror novels and novellas.

  I dedicate this book to anyone who knows they are still a good person even when they get off on sex, erotic stories, and scary tales. This book is kind of sick and twisted. I’m warning you ahead of time.

  There’s a lot of evil out there in the world right now. Just watch the news or read some of the nasty shit that is posted on social media.

  But for all that evil surrounding us there’s still a helluva lot of good too.

  So I raise this tumbler of Southern Comfort and make a toast to all of you who can still separate fiction from reality, imagination from actuality, and good from evil.

  Live out your dark desires through a good book or a movie. Don’t do that shit for real.

  I hope you enjoy this book.

  Chapter 1

  *The characters in this book are fictional and fully understand the need to use protection during sex. If it is not mentioned in this novella, it is only to prevent the slowing down of the story or interruption to the fantasy element. Have fun and be safe!*

  Let me tell you about the night I experienced true evil.

  It started with a gaze. She was eye fucking the shit out of me.

  Two tables away sat the voluptuous and clearly brazen prostitute. How did I know she was a prostitute? They all were in this part of town.

  I was in Panama City, Panama, for my buddy’s bachelor party getaway. That’s how rich kids roll. They don’t do nights. They do getaways. This one lasted four days.

  It was our last night in town and we’d decided to hit the casino strip for the second time during our trip. Gary had a problem with the dice. He could stay there all fucking night and since he had the money to burn, he usually did, before finally retiring upstairs with whatever whore he had strapped to his arm. When I left him he was still at the table.

  My other two friends, Coleman and Pete, had disappeared at some point in the night, probably followed their own chicks upstairs. Probably the two hookers we’d had sitting at our table half the night. The girls in the casino weren’t shy that’s for sure. I had one pinch my ass and one make kissing noises and whistle quietly as I made my way to the bathroom.

  And then there was this one, watching me from a faraway table, at this burger joint, as I nursed my beer. I was already feeling a bit tipsy and this Panamanian beer was strong. Not strong like it will knock you on your ass but strong like the flavor was acidy. So I was trying to take it easy.

  “Hey Hermano,” I heard from the street curb just a few feet away.

  I looked over to see a taxi driver leaning against his car. He looked right at me and kept going.

  “You wanna go to a club? You drink all night. Hottest pussy. Great time my friend. I take you there.”

  I laughed. Man, pussy seemed to be everywhere in the casino area.

  “I’m okay, thank you. But no,” I replied.

  He just kind of shooed me away with a flip of his wrist and turned to taunt a pedestrian crossing the street. I wondered how much commission he got for ushering foreigners into the strip clubs and whorehouses. Clearly enough that it was worth parking his cab for the evening.

  Another very hot hooker passed me and joined the one who’d been eyeing me from afar. My eyes were momentarily glued to them. Both had long black hair, bright red lips, and big fake tits. In other words…perfect.

  The first hooker, who by that time I’d nicknamed Salma, pointed at me and both girls giggled. Not like they’d heard the funniest damned joke ever but that kind of chuckle you give when you want someone to notice you’re chuckling.

  “Cuidado,” I heard from behind me.

  The voice was female, sexy. I scooted my seat around and looked back to see HER seated at the table behind me. She was alone. And this girl was different from the other two. She had long black hair, just like the others. She had brown eyes, just like the others. She had amazing tits, just like the others.

  But this one looked more…real. She didn’t have the hooker aura the other two possessed. She wore a tight black dress kinda like the other two but she wore a white mini sweater over her shoulders.

  “I’m sorry,” I said. “Were you talking to me?”

  She was sipping a strawberry shake and putting ketchup on her burger. She looked up at me and smiled. I caught a sparkle in her eye. It was like the light bouncing off the nearby casino sign drifted to her eyes and hung out there awhile, reflecting back at me.

  I was entranced. God she was stunning.

  “You should be careful,” she said with the most adorable accent ever. “I tink they like you.”

  I was so tempted to repeat her version of think but decided against it. Insulting girls, or negging, worked on American girls—sometimes—if done in the right joking kind of manner but it might not go over well here.

  “Should I go talk to them?” I asked.

  “If you want to spend a lot of money to be with a very experienced woman, then sure. Do it.”

  And experience in this situation is a bad thing I guess.

  “Are you their pimp or something?”

  She looked at me and tilted her head to the side. She didn’t understand my joke.

  “Never mind,” I said. “I don’t really want to spend a lot of money or be with a woman THAT experienced.”

  She smiled.

  “That’s unusual for a…gringo.”

  “But not men from Panama?”

  “Oh men from Panama are worse. But they go for the lower priced whores.”

  We both laughed.

  “Men from my country fuck them for free,” she added.

  “Your country?”

  “Oh you think I’m from Panama? Ha, no. Colombia.”

  God bless Colombia.

  I turned my seat so that I was in better view of her, not quite joining her at her table, but definitely not far away at mine. I couldn’t take my eyes off her and I didn’t want to.

  That’s when I caught my first glimpse of her tattoos. I saw the wing and head of what appeared to be a mockingbird peeking out from her top, right above her
right breast. On the other breast I saw what looked like ivy curling out.

  She wasn’t as innocent as I thought if she had that kind of ink. I wondered how much more she had.

  Somehow, over burgers and eventually beers, I ended up sitting across from her at her table. We hit it off right away. Her accent drove me crazy and from what she told me, she liked mine too. I’m from Jersey. I didn’t know I had a fuckin’ accent but if she said I had one, then I had one.

  She asked my name and I told her the truth. For some reason, when traveling, I’d always lied and said my name was Paul. My military background taught me it was always safer to keep some secrets. But with her, the truth came out naturally. I told her my name was Michael.

  She was Isabelle and she worked at one of the smaller casinos. She’d just gotten off work and didn’t feel like going home. She lived with two of her friends and hated how they just sat around the apartment smoking pot all the time with their boyfriends. So she usually delayed her return home on the weekends.

  Lucky me. I hoped her friends smoked pot all night long so she’d have a reason to stay with me.

  She asked if I liked to dance and I don’t but I said I do. You don’t understand. This chick could have asked me if I liked cyanide Kool-Aid and I probably would’ve said yes.

  Isabelle took me to this seedy little bar at the bottom of some steps beneath a bank building. It was a lot like the location where the dad found Gizmo in the first Gremlins movie. A hidden away dive.

  It was a dark and smoky bar but perfect for the two of us. We didn’t know each other well enough and the shadows of the shady place were perfect for enhancing our unplanned night together.

  And there, I danced. I danced like a drunken moron, doing the gringo sway, rocking my hips from side to side to salsa and merengue music. But she seemed to be digging me. It was great. Just the two of us mixed in among the other couples on the dance floor.

  More than anything, I loved the way she pressed her body up against me whenever a sensual song came on. She held me close, pressed her tits firmly against my chest, put her face against mine, and moved me to the rhythm of the music. I wasn’t a good dancer but she worked with what she had. And man did she work it.

  My dick was hard during the first dance so I thought I was going to burst by the last one.

  We’d been drinking beer and occasionally throwing back shots of tequila. I was buzzing so good and enjoying my time with Isabelle. It was probably the best night of my life.

  During our last dance together, some reggae-like song, she turned her back to me and grinded her ass against me. Suddenly, she leapt away from me. Then she drunkenly sashayed back to me and stumbled, wrapping her arms around my neck as she fell into my arms.

  “You’ve had a lot to drink,” I said.

  “I felt you,” she said.

  “You felt me?”

  “You are very aroused. You like me?”

  Do I like you? Are you fucking kidding me? I’m enamored with you.

  “I like you. Very much. You are absolutely the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen and your personality is amazing. You’re…you’re like perfect,” I said.

  My words sucked, I know, but I was half drunk, had maintained an erection for hours, and just wanted to fuck this girl. Don’t get me wrong, a relationship would’ve been fine too, preferred, really, as I’d been single for far too long.

  “Ha, perfect? No!” she squealed.

  She was really drunk.

  “Yes, perfect.”

  “You want to know a secret?” she asked as she leaned in close to my ear. “I like you too.”

  Then I felt it. Her tongue, so moist and soft, licked my ear. She took my earlobe in her mouth and bit on it gently.

  “Please don’t leave me tonight,” she whispered. “Take me somewhere. Be with me.”

  I turned her face towards me and kissed her. God, her lips were so soft and to this day I’ve never felt a tongue so succulent. I wanted to eat her mouth, to be there in its embrace forever. She tasted so good and we fell into a rhythm that seemed to go along with the music. I grabbed the back of her head and pulled her into me harder.

  When she moaned into my mouth I almost came. My cock was pressed so hard against my zipper that I seriously almost lost it. I needed to control myself so if I did get her alone, I wouldn’t ruin it with a premature ejacabarrassment.

  I took her hand and rushed out of the bar, barely stopping to pay my tab. Whatever she wanted, I’d be down for it. As I led her up the stairs, her body hugged tightly to mine, I couldn’t decide where I wanted to take her. I couldn’t take her back to my room because I was pretty sure the guy I was sharing the room with, Pete, was already there with one of the hookers from the casino.

  I had some cash on me and a credit card, but the truth is I couldn’t afford to book a whole new hotel room, at least not at the Sheraton where we were staying. There had to be cheaper hotels around.

  As we stood at the curb, I decided to just be honest with her.

  “Look, I don’t know where to take you. My roommate is busy in my room right now. You know this city better than I do. Where can we go?”

  Lame, I know, but come on. I was in a foreign country on limited funds with a smoking hot Latina on my arm. What would you do?

  “It’s okay. I know. Just take me to a push,” she said.

  “A push?” I asked, wondering if it was some sort of strip club or something.

  “A push button,” she said as she stuck her hand out to hail a cab. “There is one close to my house. I will show you.”

  Chapter 2

  It never takes long for a beautiful woman to catch a cab, anyplace in the world, and especially not in Panama. We had a taxi in a matter of seconds. She spoke Spanish to the driver and told him our destination. Then she snuggled up close to me in the back of the cab and wrapped her arms around me.

  I was in heaven.

  And this time she kissed me. She looked up into my face, put her hand on my cheek, and lowered me into her, sliding her tongue past my lips and finding mine. She didn’t give a shit what the driver saw as she almost climbed on top of me in the backseat.

  “Be my man tonight,” she whispered.

  Again with the secret code shit. What is all this “stay with me” and “be my man tonight?” What the fuck does that mean?

  I’m not naïve. I was pretty sure what it meant but just a little worried that maybe she was too wholesome to fuck on the first date. What if she was just really drunk and I was taking that for super horny? Maybe she just wanted to cuddle and fall asleep together.

  “You want me?” I asked, hoping to draw the words out of her.

  “Yes,” she said. “I haven’t had sex in a long time. I need you.”

  And there it was. I felt like I’d walked into a grand opening at an electronics store and balloons were falling from the ceiling and I was about to be handed a 64-inch flat panel, 3D TV. I’d just won the jackpot.

  And if her words weren’t enough, her hand was totally supporting her answer as her fingers found the zipper to my slacks, slid it down, and reached inside.

  Her hand was warm as it found my cock and gripped it, her soft touch tickling a little as her fingernails gently scraped me.

  “You are ready,” she teased.

  “Yes, I’m…I’m really ready.”

  She giggled. Her attitude had changed so much from when I first met her at the restaurant. Back then she’d seemed almost too fresh and innocent. I mean she did work in a casino so I should have supposed she wasn’t a total prude but this newer freer Isabelle was fucking awesome.

  I was so into her mouth and the stroking of her hand along my dick that I barely noticed how dark it had gotten inside the cab. I found time to pull away from her tongue long enough to glance out the window.

  We’d left the bright lights of the casino district behind. To where we’d travelled, I had no idea. It was a darker area. I could see some little supermarkets and other stores. A few peo
ple walked the crumbled sidewalks. We passed a lit up sign that said “Amor Real.”

  “There’s a hotel, let’s just go there,” I said.

  Isabelle laughed.

  “That’s not a hotel. That’s a push button.”

  “I still don’t know the difference but if we’re going to a push button why not go to that one?”

  “You’ll see. This one is special. Now pay attention to me, please.”