‘To pluck a beautiful flower from the desert is an unpardonable sin.’
– Man Of Mountain, Shoshone Medicine Man

My best friend Karla, lived with her dad, Hank, in a trailer until she was eighteen. Then she fixed up an empty trailer, one of those old chrome things with the rounded corners, and moved into it by herself. She used to get spooked in that trailer all by herself. She would call me on the phone and say, “Jan, come over and spend the night. You know I’ve got NetFlix; we’ll rent something to watch.” I never understood why she liked scary movies when she got spooked.

We grew up in the middle of nowhere — Joshua Tree, Nevada. Well, you’ve probably never heard of it, much less been here. A long time ago, way before I was born, when they built US 95 between Reno and Las Vegas, they bypassed our little tiny town. It was never much of a town anyhow, though I’ve heard about the so called ‘good ole days’.

There isn’t much here in the desert, just this flat valley of sand, Joshua trees, cactus and tumbleweeds. You can see the distant barren mountains in every direction. Just southwest is California’s famous Death Valley, and the government used to explode atomic bombs to the east of us. In fact, because of that, everyone around here receives a government stipend. You know, because it’s considered a high risk area for cancer and so forth. Old Bud Parker is the only person I know of actually getting cancer, and everyone said he smoked three packs of cigarettes a day for sixty years before he got sick.

Besides a lot of empty run down buildings, all that’s left in Joshua Tree is the Motor Lodge on the west side of the road. On the east side is Pop’s Saloon and Bottle Shop, Pop’s General Store, Buck’s Auto Garage, and Hank’s Diner.

*******************

A Harley-Davidson sped down the two lane black top. The engine’s thunderous roar was all that broke the dead silence of the desert. On either side of the road, endless Joshua Trees seemed to fly by the rider. The desert, as always, seemed unchanging and the scorching sun was relentless.

Kicking up behind the Harley, a dirt devil twisted across the sand as tumbleweeds blew across the road. His eyes peeled on the road ahead, the rider strained to see buildings looming ahead in a mirage-like haze. The loud bike sped toward the buildings as they came into focus.

The engine popped as he slowed to enter the town. A sleeveless denim jacket exposed the rider’s thick muscled arms, so completely covered in tattoos that they almost appeared black at a distance. Despite the road dirty doo-rag tied around his head, long black hair waved behind him. Dark sunglasses hid his eyes, but exposed a rugged face, severely tanned and chafed from the wind. He displayed several days’ growth of beard.

The road sign up ahead announced ‘Welcome to Joshua Tree, Unincorporated’. The miles of Joshua Trees visible across the desert in every direction, made the rider think it was an appropriate name.

With the deep roar of the motorcycle approaching, two old men jumped up from their game of Checkers and nearly face planted against the large plate glass window of Pop’s General Store. Wide open, peering eyes projected their curiosity as they watched the large muscled rider pulled up in front of the store and get off his bike.

“You two are gonna get snot on my damn window!” Pops’ scruffy voice sounded irritable.

Pops poked his head out the front door and yelled, “Gas is self service. I take cash and credit cards.” The spring on the screen door slammed it shut, as Pops turned to go back behind the cashier’s counter.

“You two act as if you ain’t ever seen a motorcycle rider.” Pops shook his head.

“This one looks kind of scary, Pops,” declared bald headed Duffy.

“I think he’s Hulk Hogan!” Shorty Rob grinned and nodded at Duffy and Pops.

“You think everyone on a motorbike is Hulk Hogan.” Duffy shook his head in disbelief.

Pops smiled, “Naaa, this guy’s not as tall or big as Hulk Hogan and he’s a lot younger. Look, he has a full head of long thick black hair. Hogan’s bald on top and has white hair.”

“Well, he might be a famous wrestler,” Shorty Rob insisted.

“Maybe he is, Shorty Rob,” Pops chuckled, “ask ‘im when he comes in.”

Once again, the spring on the screen door slammed it shut. Rustling across the floor, Duffy and Shorty Rob hustled back to their chairs and Checkers board but kept their eyes peeled on the tall, muscled biker that had just entered. Standing just inside the door of the store, he glanced around.

Heavy boots clicked loudly against the creaky wooden floor, as he stepped up to the counter and took out his wallet.

“Are you Pop, as on the sign?”

“Yep, Pops. Everyone calls me Pops.”

“So you run the Saloon and Bottle Shop, too?”

“Sure do.”

“In that case, I’d like to pay for a couple of bottles of Tequila with this gas. I like Don Julio.”

“No problem,” answered Pops, “Be right back.”

Hustling from behind the counter, Pops exited a large side door with the words Saloon above it. Duffy and Shorty Rob pretended to be playing their game of Checkers, but their constant gawking was obvious to the biker at the counter. Quickly, Pops was back with two bottles of Don Julio.

Slapping two crisp hundred dollar bills down on the counter with his thick fingers, the biker did not say a word but quickly studied Pops with his eyes. Realizing he was being studied, Pops nervously rang up the purchase then quickly counted out the change as he handed it to the robust biker.

“How’s the Motor Lodge and the diner here?” The biker’s voice was deep and gravelly.

“A Mexican family does a great job running that motel, real clean. And Hank is a helluva short order cook; grills a mean ribeye. His chili is damn good, too.” With his eyebrow twitching, Pops cautiously eyed the stranger.

“Hmm,” grunted the biker. His boots scuffed heavily off the wooden floor, as he walked out.

Pops and the two old guys watched curiously through the large front window, as the biker stepped onto his Harley and kick started it. The engine roared, as he turned it and crossed the highway to the Motor Lodge.

“Something about that guy doesn’t feel right.” Duffy scratched his chin. “Ya know, it’s getting about that time again. It’s been what, twenty years…”

“Ah, cut that out! I don’t want to hear any of that talk in here,” retorted Pops, obviously irritated at what Duffy said.

“Duffy’s right,” added Shorty Rob. “The timing is about right.”

“I don’t want to hear it!” Pops scurried through the door into the saloon.

*******************

There wasn’t much happening here, and it’s especially sad now that Karla isn’t around anymore. After she left, her dad, Hank, sold his diner to my Pops and then he too just disappeared. No one knew where he went. Now, my Pops owns every business around here except Buck’s Auto Garage.

Karla always told me, “Jan, I’m going places someday, gonna see the world.” I guess I just didn’t expect her leaving to happen the way it did.

Karla was just a year older than me, and we were the only two girls in Joshua Tree around our age. In fact, there aren’t even any guys here my age, even now. Evan was a year older than Karla, and he’d always been her main guy. He now lives over at Scotty’s Junction. That’s forty-five minutes away and the closest thing resembling a town to us. Evan has actually become my boyfriend now that Karla’s gone. And I know I’m not drop dead gorgeous like Karla, but everyone tells me I’m pretty cute.

You know, I’ve heard that Karla’s mother was beautiful. People rarely talked about her.

*******************

The little bell above the door announced his entry, as the rider stepped into the lobby of the Motor Lodge. Wiping his hands, the motel clerk walked behind the counter from a side room.

“Hola,” he greeted, ‘“you need a room?”

“Yeah, for one night.”

“Forty dollars.” The Mexican clerk turned toward the side room and snapped his fingers.

As the rider pulled the money from his wallet, a boy entered the lobby.

“Sí, papa.” Dutifully the boy stood next to his father.

“Enrique, you carry this man’s luggage to his room.”

“Sí,” the boy answered.

“Not necessary,” the biker grunted, “All I got are these side saddlebags, and nobody touches those but me.”

“As you wish, señor.”

“Vera Cruz?” the large biker asked.

“Sí, we moved here from Vera Cruz.” The clerk nodded his head.

“Recognized the accent,” the biker said, grabbing the saddlebags off the floor. “I’ve enjoyed some fine señoritas down in Vera Cruz before. That was some great panochita.”

Glaring at the biker, the desk clerk quickly covered his son’s ears.

Unlocking the door, the biker pushed it open with his boot, entered and tossed the dusty leather saddlebags onto the floor.

The rings of the curtain screeched loudly, as he violently yanked it open. Staring through the window for several minutes, he looked down the street toward the diner. He imagined Marcha Funebra by Chopin playing in his head. Without looking away, he easily pulled the sealed top off the Don Julio he held in his hand. It took several seconds for him to empty the entire 750 milliliter bottle of tequila down his throat.

*******************

No one has officially told me the story, but through bits and pieces of what I’ve overheard and when I’ve eavesdropped on conversations, I learned about The Curse. Yes, Joshua Tree, Nevada is cursed.

People have tried to lift The Curse, but all have supposedly failed. I used to not believe in The Curse — so much hocus pocus. But after — well, I’ll get to that later.

Once way back, I’m pretty sure they said Teddy Roosevelt was President at the time, some exorcists came to lift The Curse. Real serious exorcists, like that movie; they had sent for Catholic priests. Two were from New York City, but the main one came all the way from The Vatican in Italy. Isn’t that in Rome? I just know it’s in Europe, and it’s a long way to come.

They tried for days, camped out in the desert outside town over where the old fort used to be. One night, they came running back to town and wouldn’t leave the general store. They stayed there until the coach that ran from Las Vegas to Reno came, and they got on and left. Something scared them so bad, they didn’t even go back to the fort to get their stuff.

*******************

The sound of AC/DC’s Thunderstruck on a small speaker jolted the biker out of his daze. Reaching into his jeans pocket, he retrieved his cell phone.

“Yeah, boss,” he answered.

“Is she there, Asmodeus?” The voice on the phone was husky and deep.

Sniffing the air, the biker closed his eyes to savor the aroma of the atmosphere around him. “Yes, I can smell her.”

“I need you to keep to the schedule,” the voice said.

“In six thousand years, have I ever disappointed you?”

“No, Asmodeus, you haven’t,” the voice answered. “Te amo,” the voice added in Latin and the phone hung up.

A half smile formed on Asmodeus’s lips, as he looked through the window again, focusing on the diner across the street. His widening smile exposed his teeth, as the setting sun glinted off a gold incisor with a pentagram carved into it.

Asmodeus had showered and dusted off his clothes as best he could before venturing out. Smelling the food on the grill teased his senses, as he strolled across the street. Hank’s Diner was less than half full, but he sensed that it was rarely any busier than the way he found it.

Sizzling steaks and burgers popped and hissed on the grill, wetting Asmodeus’s appetite. He couldn’t wait to find a seat, sink his teeth into a juicy steak and get down to the business of checking out the entree he had been sent here for.

A gruff voice at the grill yelled out, “Seat yourself.”

Asmodeus made his way by the bar stools at the counter and passed most of the booths before sitting in the very back booth facing the interior. Studying the diner, he found himself thoroughly entertained by the naive cowboys, but most of all he was amused at the two preachers in cheap polyester suits chowing down on greasy hamburgers.

It was after he had scanned most of the room that he saw her turn toward him. Her face and smile radiated through the diner. He watched, as she flung her long, straight, blonde hair back in a flirty manner. It was as if everything had turned into a slow motion rotation with her at the center. Her face was perfect, true beauty in art — she was the perfect female form.

She gracefully grabbed her order pad and made her way toward his booth. Her motion oozed natural sexuality, as her innocent, charming smile mesmerized the patrons. Everyone’s eyes following her, as she slipped by their tables.

Asmodeus had seen and devoured more beautiful women than he could ever remember, but as her bright blue eyes caught his, he knew he had never seen any more gorgeous than this one.

He thought to himself how much fun this assignment was going to be — the delightful things nightmares are made of.

“Hi there, mister.” Her wide greeting smile exposed the gleam in her eyes. “Welcome to Hank’s Diner.”

“Well, hi there, Karla.”

Her eyes gave away her surprise upon hearing this stranger say her name.

Asmodeus smiled. “It’s on your name tag.”

“Oh yeah, that’s right.” She giggled. “It’s just that I nearly always know the customers, but I’ve never seen you before.”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you that way.”

“It’s no problem, mister.” Karla’s sheepish smile displayed a little embarrassment, but her flirty twist informed Asmodeus of what he needed to know.

As he studied her facial expressions and her body language for subtle hints that would determine his course of action, Asmodeus realized that she was studying him the same way.

He caught her eying his bulging muscled arms, and she checked out his flat belly that centered his rather large frame. His very dark tan on an already olive skin tone made him darker than anyone in the diner. He guessed that his long jet black hair and deep brown eyes added to his dark air of mystique that she seemed so curious about.

Asmodeus knew she would wonder about his arms saturated in tattoos, but he doubted she would understand the meanings behind them.

“I didn’t see a car pull up,” she said inquisitively.

“I walked from the motel.”

“Oh my god! Is that your Harley I saw parked over there?”

“Yes, it is.”

“It’s a real fancy one.” Karla smiled again. “I love to ride on motorcycles.”

“Hmmm… maybe you could ride with me later.”

Her eyes beamed with excitement, and she again twisted at the waist.

“Karla!” the gruff voice at the grill impatiently yelled out. “You got that order yet?”

“Getting it, Hank,” she yelled back. Turning to Asmodeus again, “Hank is my dad, I better get your order.”

“I heard the ribeye was good here. I’ll have that medium rare, some hash browns and a cold beer. One of the best things you Americans ever came up with was to refrigerate beer.”

“We Americans? Aren’t you an American?”

“Just a figure of speech, sweetie.” Asmodeus grinned. He had mastered the southwestern American accent decades before.

Sitting back in his seat, Asmodeus lustfully admired Karla’s twisty ass in motion, as she strolled back to the grill and clipped his order above it.

Still sizzling when Karla delivered it, the grilled steak and hash browns wetted his appetite. Riding his Harley in the desert always made him hungry and thirsty. Asmodeus downed four beers with his steak and potatoes, which he engulfed quickly.

Appearing with the check as he finished, Karla laid it on the table. “When are you going to give me a ride on that big hog you got over there?”

Asmodeus sat up and grinned. “I’m in Room 6, what time do you get off work?”

Again twisting at the hips, Karla broke into a smile. “I get off in an hour.”

“Come over then. I’ll fire the Fatboy up and we can play.”

“Oooh, that sounds good.” Karla twisted quickly, “See ya.” Her ass danced, as she strutted back toward the counter.

Leaning over to watch her twisty butt, Asmodeus suddenly saw a bright light. He pulled up quickly and saw it was the younger of the two preachers. The young preacher facing him in the other booth had been mostly hidden from his view by the back of the other preacher.

Asmodeus hadn’t seen a glow like that since the previous century. Quickly he wondered if the young preacher had noticed him. Just then, he saw the young man lean over the other preacher’s shoulder to peek at him.

Asmodeus jerked himself out of view. Yanking his wallet from his back jeans pocket, he laid out two crisp twenty dollar bills for a tip. Karla would remember that.

Gabbing the check off the table, he got up quickly and walked as fast as he could by the two preachers. Asmodeus paid Karla at the cash register, winking at her before he turned to leave.

“See ya in a few,” he said. She nodded and smiled back.

Quickly exiting, he disappeared into the dark shadows of the desert night. Lurking around the corner of an abandoned trailer, he watched the young preacher step outside. The young man looked up and down the street for a few minutes before giving up. Asmodeus had not felt fear for nearly a century until that moment, so he didn’t move until the young preacher went back into the diner.

*******************

It was way back when this excuse for a town was a US Cavalry post known as Fort Joshua Tree. That was when The Curse began.

One of the soldiers had been secretly seeing the daughter of the local Shoshone Medicine Man, Bear Paw. The federal government had moved the Shoshone west into a nearby Indian Reservation several years before. The soldier was just a private, a real young man, probably not even twenty years old at the time. But he and Bear Paw’s daughter, the medicine man’s only child, had fallen in love with each other.

When the affair was found out, Captain Miller, the commander of little Fort Joshua Tree, also Karla’s great-great grandfather on her mother’s side. By the way, Karla didn’t even remember her mother… evidently, she ran off soon after Karla was born. Pops just says she left with some smooth talking guy from the city and for me to never mention it to Karla. I always suspected there was more to it, and there was.

Oh, back to the beginning… Captain Miller was livid that one of his men was involved with a Shoshone girl, especially the daughter of the medicine man. Well, Captain Miller had the private sent back east with the supply wagon.

Bear Paw’s daughter was so heartbroken, she went out in the desert and committed suicide. They say Bear Paw mourned for two weeks by himself out in the hills. Some said he had been conjuring up something – something really bad – some powerful evil.

Bear Paw came to the fort with several Shoshone warriors. The Captain was very upset, as he was supposed to keep the Shoshone on the reservation and not allow them to stir up any trouble.

The Cavalry and the Indians had some kind of stand off, but Bear Paw wasn’t there to fight, though he did blame Captain Miller for his daughter’s suicide. While the soldiers had their guns drawn, Bear Paw danced and chanted words in Shoshone. Then he split open several leather bags of brightly colored powder. They say that immediately after, strong winds kicked up and blew the colored dust all over Captain Miller and his men. This is when the story really gets strange.

People around here only talk about this in hushed tones or when they know any young people or kids aren’t around. But this is how I’ve heard it over the years.

*******************

An old-fashioned iron bed frame and headboard filled up much of the small motel room. An antique art deco night stand with a cheap Tiffany lamp sat next to the bed. The chest-of-drawers was ornate Victorian, and a flower patterned, nearly worn-through sitting chair sat in the corner. The ceiling fan spun at its fastest speed, and the window air conditioner rattled, as it strained to cool off the room in the desert heat.

Drinking straight from the bottle, Asmodeus was gulping down Don Julio while sitting back on the bed. He turned up one more long gulp then savored the tequila before letting it slide down his throat.

He sat the bottle on the nightstand by the Gideon’s Bible that was turned open to his favorite passage in the book of Psalm. With a pen, Asmodeus had just circled Psalm 106:37-38: “They sacrificed their sons and their daughters to the demons; they poured out innocent blood, the blood of their sons and daughters, whom they sacrificed to the idols of Canaan, and the land was polluted with blood.” He had scribbled ‘the good ole days!’ next to it.

After clearing his throat, Asmodeus said out loud to himself, “She’s on her way.” He smiled faintly, as he listened for her knock on the door.

Very soon, soft knocking announced that she had arrived.

Upon opening the door, Asmodeus immediately turned his back and walked to the bed, lying back on it.

“Close the door and lock it,” Asmodeus said.

Karla closed the door, turned the lock on the knob and locked the chain. Sporting a huge mischievous grin, she twirled around quickly and looked at Asmodeus.

“What now?” she beamed.

“Have some of this tequila.”

“Do you have anything to mix it with?”

“Drink it straight.”

Karla bounced across the room, hopping onto the bed, seating herself next to Asmodeus. Reaching past him, she grabbed the bottle off the nightstand and put it to her lips. The edge of her mouth betrayed her smile, as she cornered her eyes to him. Then she turned it up.

Down her throat went a very long gulp of tequila. She pulled the bottle away from her lips and blew out of her mouth, fanning her face with her hand.

“Oooo, that burns.”

“It’s Don Julio,” said Asmodeus, “some of the best tequila made – my favorite.”

Turning the bottle up, Karla took another long gulp. After she swallowed it, she exhaled quickly.

“See, I’m no wimp.” She smiled, making her eyes twinkle. “Hey, what’s your name anyhow?”

“Asmodeus.”

“Asmodeus?” Karla looked puzzled. “That’s an unusual name, is it Biblical?”

He laughed, “Yeah, in a way, I guess you could say so.”

“Where are you from?”

“Vegas.”

“Yeah,” said Karla, “but before that. I mean, you’re not a Las Vegas native.”

“I’m from everywhere and anywhere, but I’ve been in Vegas a long time, since before you were born, girl.”

“Where are you going?”

“Back to Vegas when I leave here.”

Karla giggled. “A man of mystery, huh?”

Asmodeus grabbed an already rolled blunt off the nightstand. Taking an ornately patterned silver lighter that had been lying next to the blunt, he flipped and lit it.

“I hope that’s some good stuff?” Karla smiled, as she leaned toward him.

The blunt sparked, as Asmodeus took a long toke, holding the smoke in extra long before exhaling. Karla eagerly snatched it from his offering hand. She sucked hard on the joint, causing it to spark again.

Finally exhaling, she blurted out, “That’s some good shit.”

“After this, I got something better.”

“What’s that?”

“In good time, girl, in good time. Take it easy, we’re going to have some fun.”

“Great!” Karla rolled her eyes, as she kicked her shoes off her feet. “I’ve been soooo bored.”

“Your boredom is over with now.” Asmodeus took another long drag and handed the blunt back to Karla.

“Tell me, girl, why’d you take me up on my invitation? I mean, I’m a stranger and all.”

“Cause there’s something about you. I don’t know what it is… plus, you’re hot, and I need some excitement!”

“I’m hot?”

“God yes,” Karla rolled her eyes. “All those muscles, those unusual tattoos… Oh, my god! You’ve got jet black eyes and that long black hair. You’re so tan, like you work outside, and you look kind of exotic.”

Slightly laughing, Asmodeus asked, “Exotic, huh?”

“Yeah, what’s your ethnicity?”

Laughing out loud, he answered, “I guess my favorite was Philistine.”

“Philistine? Never heard of that?”

“You never went to Sunday School?”
“Oh, god no. Some traveling preachers come around, but Hank never made me listen to ‘em.”

Sitting back with his hands behind his head, Asmodeus cracked a smile at Karla. “Damn, if you aren’t one of the most beautiful and sexiest girls I’ve ever seen.”

“Thanks. People have always told me how pretty I am; they even say beautiful, but no one ever says sexy.”

“You are.”

“Thanks.”

“You look so innocent.”

“Everyone may think so, but I ain’t so innocent. I did some wild stuff when Hank and Pops sent me and Jan, she’s my best friend, up to Carson City to that all girls boarding school.”

“Yeah, like what?”

“We snuck out a lot and would meet boys. We even got some fake ID’s, you know, from some Mexicans; they make real good ones, very authentic looking. And we would go to Reno and party.”

“So you’re no virgin.”

“God, no.” Kayla rubbed his leg. “I’ll show you some stuff that will knock your socks off.”

Asmodeus cracked up laughing.

“Take another swig of tequila, girl.”

Karla turned the bottle up and again took a long swig. Wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, she said, “See, I’m getting used that already.”

“So you really think you can show me something that will knock my socks off?”

“Yeah, my boyfriend… well, he is the only boy close enough to see regularly, Evan is his name. Well, he’s got all these porn videos. You know, DVDs, and we sometimes re-enact all those positions. There ain’t much else to do around here.”

Very intrigued, Asmodeus asked, “Tell me, how often do you just hop into bed with some stranger you just met?”

Giggling out loud, Karla answered, “Never. Yeah, never; this is a first.”

“Why me, then?”

“Cause I want a real man and –“ She shrugged. “Well, it was kind of like, when I saw you, that I had been expecting you.”

“Hmmm,” Asmodeus grunted.

“Like deja-vu,” she added, “Yeah, deja-vu.”

From his reclined position at the top of the bed, he reached over to Karla and took her by the back of the head, pulling her to him. She smiled just before he kissed her. Sliding her arms around him, Karla showed just how badly she wanted to take his advances.

Tongues slipped deep into each other’s mouths and swirled in a frantic lustful dance. Wet smacking and heavy breathing accompanied the passionate deep kissing. Soon, Asmodeus’s strong hands were carefully unbuttoning the back of Karla’s waitress dress. Once unbuttoned, she pulled up from him. Standing up, she pulled the dress over her head and tossed it to the worn easy chair.

Smiling mischievously, she unhooked her bra and let it fall to the floor. Her perky breasts were a little bigger than average but looked very firm, making Asmodeus salivate.

Karla kicked off her sneakers before grabbing her plain white bikini panties at the edges and playfully slid them down her legs. Her beaming eyes stayed locked on Asmodeus as if she were studying his expressions for response.

“Do you like what you see?” She twisted at the waist like she had done in the diner.

Asmodeus sat up at the edge of the bed and gently pulled her to him by the sides of her waist.

“I like. I like it very much.”

Softly tracing her sides up and down with his hands, he felt her soft but very firm, young skin. Not a trace of a scar or tattoo was evident anywhere on her naked body. He knew that she was pure perfection.

His fingertips caressed her skin, as he allowed one hand to make its way to her neatly trimmed pubic hair.

“I like this style.” Asmodeus grinned. “So much neater than an unruly bush, but with more visual appeal to tease the eyes than completely shaved.”

Laughing Karla spoke up, “So you like my trimmie?”

“Yes, I do.”

“Evan keeps trying to get me to shave it, but that’s just too much trouble.” She rolled her eyes. “You know, the itchy stubble and all.”

“There is waxing, you know.”

“Yeah, but this is Joshua Tree. I’d have to order it by mail and then, well, everyone would know.”

Asmodeus laughed then stood to his feet. He started to unbuckle his belt. Karla immediately began to help him, and she ended up yanking his belt through the jean loops.

“You won’t need that,” she said, giggling as she tossed the belt across the room.

Grabbing at his black t-shirt to pull it off over his muscular shoulders, Karla stopped at the glittery silver words printed on the chest.

“The Devil’s Harem?” She looked him in the eyes curiously. “Is that in Vegas?”

“Yep.”

“What kind of place is it?”

“It’s a place full of beautiful young women like yourself.”

“Have you been there?” Karla giggled.

“I work there.”

“Is it a strip club?”

Yanking hard, Karla finally freed the t-shirt from his big shoulders and tugged it over his head.

“Part of it is, but it’s much more than that.”

“Oh, well what’s the rest of it like?”

“No more questions for now.” He grabbed Karla by the back of her butt cheeks and pulled her to him. Asmodeus kissed her. He stepped back toward the bed and fell back onto it, pushing his legs in the air.

“Pull these boots off.”

With a tight grip and mighty tug, Karla yanked the first boot off, then the other. She pounced on Asmodeus, pulling and sliding his jeans down his legs. Pulling his knees upward, he jerked his boxers off and dropped them to the floor, leaving him naked.

Astonished, Karla’s eyes shot wide open as she finally caught a glimpse of Asmodeus’s very large pecker.

“You’re not a pornstar, are you?”

That brought a chuckle from him. “No, I’m not.”

Reaching up, he took her by the hand and yanked her onto the bed with him. They again started to tongue kiss very passionately. But shortly after, Asmodeus lifted Karla above his head, planting her crotch upon his face.

He spread apart her already soaked cunt lips and began to tease and lash at her twat with his tongue. In her excitement, Karla nearly went limp. Her knees spread out on either side of his head, resting on the bed while she began to run her fingers through his long black hair.

Asmodeus cupped both her ass cheeks, as he pushed his tongue into her slippery wet pussy. Sucking her juicy nectar, he also joyfully inhaled her arousing pungent fragrance. Soon, he slid his tongue up and down along her swelling labia, then he began to tease her clitoris directly.

Karla clenched tightly and almost jumped off his face. Realizing that her clit was very sensitive, Asmodeus began to circle it, flicking at the hood that partially surrounded it.

As Karla bent over slinking downward, her long blonde hair fell down onto his face. She moaned and purred. He kept making love to her cunt with his tongue.

“Oh, my god!” Karla barely breathed out. “You're so fuckin’ good, where’d you learn that?”

Asmodeus didn’t break his concentration. Still working her clitoral area with his tongue, he pulled one hand forward and began to double stimulate her by using his thumb on her clit. His fingers slid into her juicy twat. First one finger, which probed and soon found her g-spot. Then, he pushed another finger into her pussy.

It didn’t take long at all until Karla erupted into orgasmic bliss, clenching her entire body as she screamed and panted for air, then going limp. Despite the limpness, she remained slumped upon Asmodeus’s face.

Rolling her off his face, he said, “I’ve got something to take things up a notch or two.”

“What’s that?” Karla said as she gasped for air.

“Nose candy — cocaine.” Opening the top drawer of the nightstand, Asmodeus carefully pulled out a round mirror already set up with several lines of white coke. “Have you ever done coke before?”

“No, just pot and x.” Karla shrugged.

“I guess you’re game, aren’t you?”

She giggled. “I’m game all right.”

Scooping up a line of coke with a half rolled dollar bill, Asmodeus eased back onto the bed. Raising his legs, he pulled them upward without the use of his hands, his ass pointing toward the ceiling. He then skillfully emptied the cocaine onto his asshole, filling the sphincter’s depression with the white powder.

He called what he did playing games; their lives were but his fiendish pleasure. And his pleasure had begun.

“Karla, I want you to use your nose to snort it off my butt.”

Karla’s face lit up, her mouth forming a childish grin before she shrugged and dove forward. Her face was quickly buried between his butt cheeks and she sniffed as hard as she could, inhaling most of the coke up her nose.

Suddenly popping up onto her knees, Karla desperately sucked at the air. Asmodeus snatched her wrist before she could wipe her nose.

“No, no, girl!” Asmodeus smirked confidently. “Wipe it off your nose and suck your fingers.”

Karla’s eyes sparkled, as a grin erupted across her face. She sat back on her haunches and ran her forefingers across her nostrils.

“Get it all, now, cause the real fun is just getting started.”

She giggled slightly after a stronger swipe, then she licked her finger clean of the cocaine.

“Like that?”

“Yes, like that.”

Grabbing her by the back of the head, Asmodeus pulled her face between his butt cheeks. Immediately, Karla lashed at his crack with her tongue.

She ran it up and down several times, always keeping her big blue eyes locked onto Asmodeus for his reactions. Soon changing her focus, Karla began licking and sucking Asmodeus’s heavy balls.

“You’ve got such big, heavy nuts.” She kept licking, teasing his balls with her tongue.

“I use them a lot.” Asmodeus tossed his head back and rolled his eyes in ecstasy, as Karla added a hard sucking to her ball licking.

Sliding her tongue upward, as if it were a sensual serpent, she had him moaning louder, as she swallowed his large cock into her mouth. Pressing her face ever harder against him, his cock slid down her throat.

Asmodeus held her face there and let her up just in time to catch some air. Coughing and gasping for a few seconds, Karla buried his thick veiny penis back into her mouth and gently squeezed his big balls.

“Get ready to swallow.” His tone was commanding but pleasant.

Karla pressed her face into him, catching his sterile semen as it shot hard into her mouth. With a glob of the white gooey cum on her tongue, she spread it along the width of her lips before licking and sucking it all into her mouth.

“My god!” Karla exclaimed. “Your cum tastes like honey — real honey bee, honey.” Her eyes beamed with excitement. “How is that?”

“You’ll know in due time, girl.” Asmodeus sat up, spinning Karla around and slapping her ass. “I’m going to fuck you silly now.”

“Okay.”

Smacking her ass much harder, he had Karla shrieking loudly. Asmodeus grinned.

With Karla on her hands and knees, he had pulled up behind her. His large cock was rock hard.

“I thought you just came?” quizzed Karla.

“I did.”

“But why didn’t your dick go soft?”

“My cock only goes soft when I want it to.” He pressed the large pecker against her soft juicy cunt lips, running the uncircumcised head of it up and down the length of her labia.

As he pushed his throbbing penis into her squishy pussy, Karla let out a loud moan. Her mouth shot open, as Asmodeus suddenly pushed deep inside her. With one hand, he grabbed a fistful of her long, soft, blonde hair. He jerked her head back, and Karla yelped.

Asmodeus slapped her buttock hard, the sound echoing in the room. Karla yelped again. Almost violently, he began driving his pecker, slamming his torso back and forth. Her entire body shook and bounced with each thrust.

“Oh my god! Oh! Oh! Oh!” Karla’s loud cries announced her extreme pleasure. “It’s so big!”

The slap of the skin to skin collisions reverberated around the room but were occasionally drowned out the slapping Karla’s reddened ass cheek.

Asmodeus pulled his cock from her soppy snatch, a long string of sticky cum hanging between the end of his cock and her shiny wet pussy lips. Slapping her ass one more time, he spun her around and onto her back.

On cue, her legs spread wide. His cock led the way, as he pressed himself down onto her. As his thick penis pushed into her again, Karla let out a loud sucking gasp.

Immediately her knees began to scissor in and out, as Asmodeus torso danced between her splayed legs.

Whole both of them were shiny and wet from sweat, neither showed signs of slowing or fatigue. Bed springs were squeaking so loudly, accompanied by Karla’s loud moans and screams of pleasure, that Asmodeus pictured the Mexican man in the motel lobby vigorously covering his son’s ears.

Karla had one hand vigorously fingering her clit, while her other arm wrapped around his mighty shoulders and rubbed his sweaty, hard back. Asmodeus continue plowing his quarry, knowing he was preparing Karla to be harvested for his master.

“Oh god! I’m cumming!” Karla shrieked. “Oh fuck! Oooh! Oh! Oh god!”

She squirted. It scared Karla, who had never squirted before. Asmodeus felt her female ejaculant as it soaked through his trim pubic hair, oozing down his balls and crotch. But his pace never slowed. No mercy was his mantra.

Looking into his eyes, Karla could not fathom what she saw. “Asmodeus, your eyes are glowing red,” she yelled, “like little light bulbs!”

“It’s the coke, Karla, the coke. You‘re seeing things.”

“Oh.” She felt relieved, though she could still see his eyes glowing.

Asmodeus turned toward the mirror above the chest of drawers to the side of the bed. His red glowing eyes were very bright. A slight smile curled along the corner of his lips.

This was as good a time as any, he thought. His balls began to tingle, while his entire prostate sizzled. His eyes rolled back, and his entire body tensed. With clenched muscles, his eyes slammed shut, and Asmodeus felt his orgasm build until it launched his steamy cum into Karla’s soaking twat.

She was his now, a plaything until the harvest for eternity. His mission was accomplished.

*******************

This is crazy stuff, I know, but I’ve listened around corners, pretended to be asleep while the old people were talking, just picked it up over the years. But this is what was said: Bear Paw shouted at Captain Miller that his seed would be but a slave to the desert sand around Fort Joshua Tree, and every twenty years, a beautiful daughter would be taken from them.

While the Captain and his men were busy trying to brush the colored powder off their uniforms, Bear Paw raised a knife and took his own life. A nearby Joshua tree erupted into flames. Bear Paw fell before them and was dead within a minute. The Shoshone warriors shrieked in fear and ran off. They knew that a spell cast in one’s own death blood on the ground was tied to the most powerful of evil spirits. Somehow, the fiery Joshua tree linked the curse in the ground to the air, whatever they meant by that.

I know outsiders will think I’m silly for believing in such hocus pocus, but this is Joshua Tree, and generations have seen this curse come true again and again. Every twenty years, a Miller woman disappears. Karla, her mother, aunts, grandmothers.

Being unrelated to the Miller’s around here, I’m supposed to be safe from The Curse. Karla’s mother married Hank at nineteen, and had just turned twenty when Karla was born.

*******************

The sun was just breaking the horizon. It was dawn; a new dawn for Karla, but an an old dawn that had come back to haunt Joshua Tree.

Karla climbed onto the back of Asmodeus’s big black and chrome Harley-Davidson. “I’m so excited about this,” Karla giggled.

The big engine roared to life, as he kicked the starter. Throttling it up, the engine roared louder, like a lion, the king of the jungle, after a fresh kill.

The big bike sped off with the two on it. Karla hunched forward, wrapping her arms around her new muscular master. Having discarded her waitress dress, she was wearing an outfit Asmodeus had given her from his bike’s saddlebags: tight, low rise leggings and a very tight black tube top. The glittery words The Devil’s Harem were spelled across the chest.

On her lower back, a tattoo was now showing on her previously unscarred body — the words in Latin: Filia Autem Diabolo.

About an hour later, charging into Hank’s Diner, the young preacher yelled to Hank, “Is that motorcycle guy still around?”

“How the hell should I know?” Hank grumbled.

“Well, has anything unusual happened last night or this morning?” The hysterical young man waved his arms wildly.

Sitting at the counter, Pops spoke up. “Karla is late this morning. She’s never late.” His voice sounded worried.

“No, she’s not.” Hank flipped the bacon on the grill. “I’ve called her over and over for an hour; got a good mind to go wake her up.”

“That motorcycle man,” the preacher interrupted, “does anyone around here know him?”

“What the hell is it with the motorcycle man?” Pops spun completely around on his stool.

“You all might think I’m crazy, but I can see people’s aura, whether they are good or bad.”

All conversations in the diner stopped, and every head turned toward the young preacher.

“I prayed and studied scriptures all night after seeing him.” The preacher sighed. “That guy isn’t human. He’s something real evil; I mean, powerful evil.”

To the young preacher’s astonishment, Hank dropped his spatula on the floor and ran out the door. Chasing after Hank, the entire diner exited. The preacher ran out behind them.

Hank sprinted down the road as fast as he could go, turning onto the gravel drive that led to Karla’s chrome trailer. As the crowd closed in, they all could see numerous scorched Joshua Trees around the trailer.

Collapsing on his knees in the sand in front of the trailer, Hank screamed as loud as he could, “No! No! You can’t have her! Why? Why?”

Tears poured down his cheeks, as he buried his face in his hands and collapsed onto the ground.

*******************

I miss Karla something awful. She was my best friend; we could talk about anything. It’s real hard not having a girl my age to talk to around here. And you know, it’s been really depressing around here.

Everyone is talking too, cause you see, the day Karla disappeared, Hanks’s brother-in-law, Buck Miller, he owns the auto garage, well, he found out that same day his pregnant wife is going to have a little girl.

Everyone tells me now, Jan, you oughta get out of here. Go someplace where you can get a good job, go to school. So even Pops has been for me to go to tech school in Carson City, maybe study to be a dental hygienist. So, I’m thinking of leaving Joshua Tree, maybe move up to Carson City and get a waitress job and try that tech school.

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Asmodeus (Asmodaios) or (Ashmedai) is a king of demons mostly known from the deuterocanonical Book of Tobit, in which he is the primary antagonist. Asmodeus is second only to Lucifer himself. He was considered by some during the Renaissance era to be the King of the Nine Hells. Asmodeus also is mentioned as one of the seven princes of Hell. He is one of the princes representing the seven deadly sins (Lust, Gluttony, Greed, Sloth, Wrath, Envy, and Pride). Asmodeus is the demon of lust and is therefore responsible for twisting people's sexual desires.

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There will be more stories of The Devil’s Harem…