SSS-Class MILFs And Their Yandere Daughters, I Want Them All!

Chapter 620: Demons Walking Amongst Us

Amanda Lioletta had always been different.

From a young age, she had felt the darkness inside her—the urge to dominate, to control, to make others suffer.

It was a hunger that never went away, no matter how much she tried to suppress it.

She had learned to hide it, of course.

She had built a mask of warmth and kindness that fooled everyone around her.

But the hunger remained.

Her blessing only made it worse.

The ability to invade minds, to read memories, to manipulate perceptions—it gave her a taste of power that was intoxicating.

She could see people’s deepest secrets. Their fears. Their weaknesses.

And she wanted to exploit them. She wanted to reach into their minds and hear them scream.

But she couldn’t. Not in the real world.

The authorities kept too close a watch on powerful Blessed individuals.

If she ever acted on her desires, she would be caught. Imprisoned. Possibly executed.

So she buried her hunger deep inside and played the role of the gentle, caring teacher.

It was a mask she wore so well that even she sometimes forgot it was there.

Then she met Marcus.

It was at one of those tedious events where Blessed individuals mingled with politicians and celebrities.

Amanda had been bored out of her mind until Marcus approached her.

They made small talk. Shared pleasantries. And then, very subtly, Marcus began to probe.

He asked her questions that seemed innocent on the surface but carried darker undertones.

He made comments that could be interpreted in multiple ways.

He was testing her—she recognized the technique because she had used it herself many times.

He was looking for someone who shared his particular…interests.

Amanda took the bait.

Over the following weeks, they met in secret.

Marcus revealed his true nature—the murders, the torture, the Devil’s Playground.

And instead of being horrified, Amanda was fascinated. Envious. She wanted what he had. A place where she could do anything she wanted without consequences. A playground of her own.

Marcus was delighted to oblige.

He brought her into his domain. He showed her his victims—the men and women trapped in his dungeon, the children cowering in their cells.

And he offered her a gift: she could do whatever she wanted to them. She could satisfy every dark urge she had ever suppressed.

Amanda had never felt so alive.

They became partners. Lovers, of a sort—though their relationship was based more on shared sadism than genuine affection.

Amanda helped Marcus select victims. She used her psychic abilities to identify people who wouldn’t be missed, people whose disappearances wouldn’t draw attention.

She even helped him refine his torture techniques, using her knowledge of the human mind to maximize suffering.

“The Terror Face Murders.” Charlotte whispered. “You were involved too.”

“Some of them were mine, yes.” Amanda said it as casually as if she were admitting to borrowing a book. “The ones that made the news, anyway. Most of our ‘playmates’ don’t get that kind of attention.”

“They just…fade away. Their bodies go through the motions for a while, and then one day they simply stop. No one ever suspects a thing.”

“And when Marcus told me he had caught a very special fish.” Amanda continued, turning her gaze toward Charlotte. “I was intrigued. And when he told me it was my own student—my precious little Charlotte—I was absolutely thrilled!”

She knelt down, bringing her face level with Charlotte’s. Her smile was gentle, maternal, monstrous.

“Do you know how long I’ve wanted to play with you, dear? From the very first lesson, I could feel the potential in your mind. So powerful. So full of light.”

“I wondered what it would sound like when you screamed. What your face would look like twisted in agony. What it would feel like to break that brilliant consciousness into pieces.”

Charlotte couldn’t move. Couldn’t speak. Couldn’t breathe.

“So when Marcus told me you had sealed yourself away in Mika’s domain, I was so disappointed. All that potential, locked behind a door I couldn’t open.”

She sighed dramatically before smiling brightly.

“But then we came up with a plan. If we couldn’t break the door down, we would convince you to open it yourself. We would stage a rescue. I would be the hero.”

“And you, in your gratitude and grief, would beg Mika to release you—to let you come back to me.”

Her smile widened.

“It almost worked, too. You were so close, Charlotte. So beautifully broken. If Mika hadn’t interfered…well.” She shrugged. “We would be having a very different conversation right now.”

Charlotte finally looked up. Her eyes were red from crying, but there was something else in them now—something that hadn’t been there before.

Rage. Pure rage.

“You’re a monster…” She whispered.

“I prefer ‘visionary,’ but monster works too.”

“I trusted you. I loved you. You were like—you were like family to me!”

“And that’s exactly what made this so delicious.”

Amanda stood up, brushing off her gown.

“The look on your face when you realized the truth—when you watched your beloved teacher die right in front of you—that was worth more than all the torture sessions in the world.”

“You—”

“But unfortunately, it seems our little game has been cut short. The boy saw through our ruse before we could get what we really wanted.”

She glanced at Marcus. “What now?”

“Now?” Marcus picked up the axe from where it had fallen, examining the blood-stained blade.

“Now we go back to the old-fashioned way. We break the boy’s consciousness the hard way. And once we do—”

He looked at Charlotte with undisguised hunger.

“—we finally get to play with our real prize.”

Mika was about to interrupt, his mouth already opening to deliver some cutting remark, when Amanda’s voice came through.

“What about the others? Won’t they want a piece of the pie as well?”

Mika’s expression stiffened. That…was not what he was expecting to hear.

Marcus also froze. His hand, which had been reaching for a particularly vicious-looking scalpel, stopped in mid-air.

“Do we really have to share them with the others?”

His voice carried a petulant, almost childish whine.

“Why can’t we just keep both of them all to ourselves? I found them first. Lady Charlotte walked into my domain. The boy is my plaything.”

“Why should I have to share!?”

Amanda rolled her eyes with the practiced exasperation of someone who had dealt with Marcus’s selfishness many times before.

“Because I already told them about it, you idiot!”

“And the moment word got out that we have a Battle Angel’s daughter in our presence, they’ve been absolutely ravenous!”

“Do you have any idea how many messages I’ve received in the past few days? They’re calling me constantly. Begging. Demanding!”

“Some of them are practically salivating at the thought of getting their hands on such prestigious prey.”

She crossed her arms, her expression hardening.

“They’re starving, Marcus. Absolutely starving. And you know how they get when they’re denied something they want.”

Marcus’s face twisted with frustration.

“Then why did you tell them in the first place?! We could have kept this quiet. We could have enjoyed them all to ourselves for weeks—months, even! You know how long I’ve waited for toys like these!”

“First of all—” Amanda held up a finger, her tone shifting to that of a teacher lecturing a particularly dense student. “—think about the benefits, you short-sighted fool.”

“By informing the others and giving them a taste of such exquisite prey, we gain favors. Political capital. Leverage. Do you have any idea what some of our more powerful guests would trade for even five minutes with a Battle Angel’s daughter?”

She began to pace, her green gown swishing around her ankles.

“Senator Halworth has been trying to push through that legislation we need. One session with Lady Charlotte, and he’ll sign whatever we put in front of him.”

“General Vorst has access to military resources we’ve been coveting for years. And don’t even get me started on what the Bluefield leaders would offer.”

She stopped pacing and turned to face Marcus directly.

“And secondly—” Her eyes flicked toward Mika with a mixture of frustration and grudging respect. “—you can’t break him. You’ve had an entire week with this boy, Marcus. Eight full days of your most creative work. And look at him.”

She gestured at Mika, who stared back at her with those dark, defiant eyes.

“He’s still here. Still conscious. Still fighting. His mind hasn’t cracked. His will hasn’t shattered.”

“He’s more resilient than anything we’ve ever encountered!”

She walked over to Marcus and placed a hand on his shoulder, her voice dropping to a whisper.

“So why not let the others try? Let them exhaust themselves against that unbreakable wall.”

“They have techniques we haven’t thought of. Methods we haven’t explored. And even if they fail…”

She shrugged elegantly.

“…we’ve lost nothing. We’ve only gained their gratitude and their favors. It’s a win either way.”

Marcus was silent for a long moment, considering her words.

Then, slowly, a smile spread across his face.

“I suppose that makes sense. I have been rather greedy, haven’t I? An entire week with this toy all to myself.” He chuckled, shaking his head. “Perhaps it’s time to share the wealth, as they say.”

“Exactly!” Amanda patted his cheek affectionately. “That’s my partner!”

Mika, who had been listening to this entire exchange with growing dread, finally spoke.

“What do you mean, ‘others’?”

Amanda and Marcus turned toward him.

“Don’t tell me…”

Mika continued, his eyes narrowing.

“That there are actually more psychopaths like you roaming around in this domain.”

Amanda stared at him for a moment.

Then she threw her head back and let out a laugh that echoed through the library like breaking glass.

“Of course there are, you silly boy!” She wiped a tear of mirth from her eye.

“Did you really think that this vast, magnificent realm where we can do anything we want was occupied by just the two of us?”

She spread her arms wide, gesturing at the mansion around them.

“There are dozens of us, Mika! Even over a hundred!”

“Politicians who pass laws by day and torture innocents by night.”

“Celebrities who smile for the cameras and then come here to satisfy their darkest urges.”

“F-Class Blessed who want to feel powerful.”

“A-Class Blessed who want to feel even more powerful.”

“S-Class and SS-Class Blessed who have grown bored with ordinary pleasures and seek something more…exquisite.”

She began to pace, her voice taking on the cadence of a tour guide describing the wonders of a museum.

“Some of them you’ve already met. At parties. At functions. At the galas your family attends.”

“They smiled at you. They shook your hand. And all the while…” She chuckled. “…they were thinking about what it would be like to have you here. In this place. At their mercy.”

Mika’s expression didn’t change, but Charlotte saw his fingers tighten around the armrests of his chair.

“Even the greatest saints.” Amanda continued. “The ones who have donated millions to charity, the ones who have built hospitals and schools and orphanages—some of them come here too.”

“They wear their halos in public, but in private?” She sneered. “In private, they indulge in desires that would make the devils themselves weep with horror.”

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