DISCLAIMER: The following is fiction. The characters in this story have been made up. The content of the story is not representative of the writer’s beliefs, opinions or attitudes. This is story is intended for adult entertainment only. All Rights Reserved © 2022 LITTLESALLY666.
STORY CODES: LGBT themes, Incest, MC, Masturbation, Corruption, Scat, WS, Coercion, NS, Rape, Lolita, Magic, Blasphemy, Devil Worship, Demons, Occult, Satanic Rites, BDSM, Cosplay
CREATED: 12.12.2012 / Updated 21.05.2022
THE SECRET – SYNOPSIS:
At an obscure antique fair, two avid collectors, Hanna Ikanov and Viktor Koshkin, bid heavily against each other to purchase a rare and dangerous book. They both seem to know something about it, or have an inclination of its worth. Just as they both decide that they will go to any means possible to get what they want, it seems through the Dance of the Amanojaku, their unlikely truce may forge an answer both their darkly and sinister masturbatory prayers.
THE SECRET – PART ONE
The dusty old auction room was as much an antique as the items that it peddled. Dust particles danced in the vertical beams of light that fell from the slated ceiling above. There was an odd ensemble of people scattered throughout the small auditorium made of uncomfortable wooden benches in front of the auctioneer’s rosewood podium. It smelt of an old staleness that felt comforting to Hanna Ikanov as she sat expectantly at the edge of the central row.
Hanna wore her usual black attire head to toe. She thought that it would keep her inconspicuous as possible … not that many seemed to ever notice this small, slight, introverted woman; with her dark brown shoulder length hair. Dozens of other people milled back and forth as the buying and selling was spadmodic.
“And now for Lot 233, an old manuscript of unknown origin. I will start the bidding at 500 Rubles. Do I hear 500 Rubles,” droned the silver-headed auctioneer with his bespectacled eyes staring blankly into the crowd.
“500 Rubles,” said Hanna.
She was a procurer of rare things. She thought knew something that nobody else knew. She had heard many stories about a manuscript of similar description. It was said to possess a strange power. Some said that it was capable of granting wishes … dark wishes. This had caught the five-foot tall woman’s attention … a masturbatory catalyst, as she had so many evil desires. She stirred, getting wet between her legs, with a thought of owning such an item, “Sex with demons,” she thought to herself.
“10,000 Rubles,” countered another punter from the back of the room.
Hanna felt a sharp spasm in her crotch. Who else could have any knowledge of this evil thing? How she loved to masturbate with evil things. It had started when she had bribed a corrupt museum official, to acquire the heavy curved blade of a knife, used by Mayan priests to cut the hearts from their victims offered to their gory Sun God – the particular knife had been well documented.
The official had no idea of Hanna’s intended purpose, to masturbate with its wooden knob handle imagining all the evil priests, as they cut the living heart from the chest of their naked child sacrifice. There was also the ugly string of shrunken heads from an extinct cannibal tribe; that were said to have offered in primitive sex rites to their dark forest demon; partaking in the raping of their victims before eating them; then saving their heads that they wore as trophies around their necks while they danced in morbid celebration to thank their demon.
She had worn the disguising thing around her own neck and held them against her erect nipples as she had performed her own naked masturbation dance in front of the mirror. So many rare and horrid items over the years she had acquired. Her favorite had been a steel dildo. It was said to have been made from the nails, used in the crucifixion of Jesus … melted down and obscenely cast in the shape of a long phallus.
It had been engraved with markings of those who worshiped the Devil. It had cost a large sum to acquire. Hanna could still remember vividly the first time she held it in her bare hands. Her whole body shaking as she held against her vagina; pushing it in enough to soak it in her juices. Then, watching herself in the mirror as she kissed and sucked at it; before plunging it inside of herself — cumming over and over — as she imagined the bloody death that created her evil toy …
Now she squinted in the poor light to see where the higher bid came from. But she could not locate where the voice came from.
“Do I hear 11,000 Rubles from the lady in the black jacket?” asked the auctioneer. Hanna nodded. “I have 11,000 Rubles. Looking for 12,000 Rubles,” said the auctioneer, looking towards the rear of the room.
Hanna could now make out a gentlemen standing in a long dark coat. He was not very tall, but his hand shot up to signal his bid.
“Do I hear thirteen?” asked the auctioneer.
“Forty,” retorted Hanna.
There was a stunned silence. That was a year’s salary for an average family.
“Going once. Going twice.”
It was an outrageous bid for such an odd thing in such an obscure setting … the hammer fell.
“Sold to the woman in the black jacket for 40,000 Rubles.”
Hanna wasted no time. She got up from her seat and made her way out of the small auction room. Exchanging the auctioneer’s slip with a stack of well-used bills to the disinterested sales girl, she went to retrieve Lot 233 from the collection area. Hanna felt herself trembling in anticipation as she took physical possession of the ancient document. Could anything they say be true? She tried to ignore her somersaulting stomach. It was much heavier than she had imagined. The magic manuscript tingled against her black silk-gloved hand. Another hand, a male hand went to touch it, but she quickly snatched it back from his grasp.
“I could give you twice what you paid for it,” said the man’s voice.
There was something about that instantaneously intrigued her.
“Why didn’t you simply outbid me then?” she counted.
“You caught me out. I wasn’t expecting any competition over such an old and unimportant thing,” answered the mysterious man.
Hanna wanted to leave with her prize … but there was something about her auction rival that interested her. Was it him or the manuscript that was making her wet?
“Sorry, but I would not sell it. Not even for twice the price. Besides, if it is, as old and unimportant as you you say, why would you pay so much?”
“Well, you have a point. I consider myself somewhat of a connoisseur of these types of things. I have been out-witted today by a smart and beautiful woman.”
Hanna felt flattered by his words as his voice had such a genuine tone to it.
She only thought of herself as pint-sized, gaudy and gaunt — others had compared her to a, “Witch,” — with her unnaturally milk-white flesh, aquiline nose, and strong eyebrow line and protruding cheekbones.
Maybe, “Witch,” had been somewhat harsh, but in school, her flat bony chest, narrow hips and tiny stature made her an easy target for the cruel words from the other more popular girls — crushing any ego — she may have had, and holding her painfully conscious for the rest of her adult life.
Though she looked in her early thirties, she was now in her late forties, her interests and paraphilias as means of sexual fulfillment had pushed her to the lonely fringe. But, the attention of this particular man, this handsome young man with a common interest in the evil manuscript, sparked a strange arousal.
“A connoisseur? So what exactly are these types of things?”
What did he know? Her interest masked in a slight sarcastic tone.
“Dark things, Madame … dark evil things. Here is my number. I sense we are very much alike.”
“You should not be so presumptuous. You don’t know anything about me.”
There was a touch of pain in her words. Though she truly longed for someone just like him to share her nastiness with — she also resented the intrusion. Though maybe in the case, of such an attentive man, she should make the exception? Curiosity killed the cat! What exactly did he know? Maybe the dark magic of the manuscript was already at work? Her eyes searched his interesting face for a clue.
She had prayed, from only eight years old, to Satan for a demon lover … an incubus to fulfill her needs and take his with her. She recalled the words from an ancient spell she had used to conjure an incubus, “Know the demon for he shall be endowed with a phallus of a cubit in length,” — and during masturbation, the thought of such an impressive sexual organ, filling her to the point of being impaled, always took her over the top every time.
“Maybe, we could come to some arrangement.”
Her mind was already raced with the possibilities of illicit liaisons, sharing bodily fluids in unconventional ways in the praise dark gods.
“My apologies for being blunt … for I know what we have in common. As, I think you know too. I feel your frustration with life; your boredom with the mundane; and your search for the illicit. Your interest in the manuscript confirms it. I have prayed many times for the darkness to bring us together. An arrangement would be mutually beneficial. My name is Viktor Koshkin.”
He held out a piece of folded paper in his hand. As she took it, his fingers touched the bare flesh of her hand above her glove. Her pussy tingled. She needed to masturbate chronically … she need her evil phallus to reach up into the back of her cervix.
“It has been interesting. Goodbye, Mr Koshkin,” said Hanna as she left without a further word.
She checked carefully over her shoulders to make sure that she was not being followed and did not feel completely safe until she reached her apartment. She closed the door and turned up the heat. Denial was so pleasurable … the sweet torture of anticipation.
Her cunt was slimy and itchy as she took the manuscript into her, “Sanctuary,” – it was a room with no windows, only an oversized fireplace and purposeful furnishings for her masturbatory pleasures. It was a room designed originally as a very large, “Panic room,” and from the hallway was concealed as a wall panel. It had been an expensive renovation to her top floor apartment, but with her inherited wealth she had no concerns over material matters. She had dressed herself as she imagined a priestess of Satan should be dressed — naked beneath a long hooded robe — her boyish chest rubbing against the sensual material of the ceremonial gown.
The tingling sensations from the manuscript had intensified as Hanna brought it closer to her gown-covered groin. If the legend is true, the manuscript will open only when it sees the blackness of my heart – She told herself, almost jumping from her skin with dark joy.
Hanna had laid out her masturbation toys, including the steel dildo, on the black rug that covered the wooden floor in front of her furiously burning fireplace — the flames giving the dark room an eerie orange glow — she had positioned a dressing mirror in such a way that she who be able to watch herself. She held the manuscript with great reverence and placed it on her elaborate demonic altar winged with black candles — with a statue of the Baphomet at its center — all upon a black cloth with the pentagram insignia.
Taking an antique silver church chalice she carefully urinated into it, filling it until it brimmed with her salty fluids and then set it upon the altar. Then taking a decorative antique plate, depicting the Immaculate Heart of Mary, began to empty her bowels upon it.
A long rope-like turd extended eight inches from her anus, until the first seven inches broke off and landed across the face of the Mother of God. Hanna’s heartbeat pounded in her almost flat chest. Her fingers curled around her tiny areolas and tugged on both her erect nipples that stood out hard as bullets. The pungent smell was rank, but to Hanna, it was the smell of arousal, a delicious fragrant that initiated her most private and obscene of rituals.
She had not completely finished defecating, but she pinched her anus tight to cut the process. Her stomach hurt but she enjoyed the momentary discomfort. She retrieved the plate with its disgusting content and placed it ritualistically upon her dark altar.
Opening her gown, she dug her index finger into the filthy ass crack still filled with the remainder of her shit and coated her fingers in her warm brown ass fudge. Using it like paint, she wrote the numerals, “666,” across her chest. She looked at her hand covered with shit, her fingernails still filthy. She brought them to her mouth and sucked them clean. The bitter taste was foul.
“Hail Satan. Bring me an incubus or a succubus! Hail Satan. Make me scream in orgasm!” she chanted.
She held the manuscript in her hands. This time, you brought it into direct contact with her juicy cunt, rubbing the ribbed texture across her engorged clit. She moaned lewdly in a pre-orgasmic state as she imagined a demon’s cock in her every orifice. She was on the verge of a powerful orgasm — but felt herself stuck on the precipice — unable to reach the orgasm she so desperately wanted. Unable to open the locked manuscript. It must work!
“Give me my dark wish!” she shouted in frustration.
THE SECRET – PART TWO
The phone rang. Though Viktor was eager to answer it, he let it continue to ring. It’s her I just know it is!
He had masturbated furiously almost every couple of hours thinking about her. She is the one. He had imagined her thin waifish body naked before him. He had imagined her long aquiline nose between his ass cheeks as she enthusiastically performed ass-to-mouth.
He had followed her back to her walk-up exclusive empire-style apartment on the Palace Embankment. He had noticed her glance backwards on several occasions and had hide to avoid detection. He had jumped the wall and now he stood in the inner courtyard. He looked up and watched the lights come on at the fifth level, which was also the topmost floor. He knew this area was expensive, and the penthouse-style top floors would be even more luxurious.
He answered on the sixth ring. He lifted the receiver.
“Viktor? Viktor Koshkin?” asked a coy female voice.
He recognized the voice and became immediate erect. His ten inch cock looked totally unnatural against his small body frame — just over five foot, two inches tall — it reached reached up to be level with his nipples. Despite this asset, Viktor had found dating awkward and was embarrassed by his physique. Of course, being well-endowed had its advantages and he had become an expert at auto-fellatio. His cool palms wrapped around the base of his long shaft as he began to jack-off. He wanted to moan lewdly.
“Who needs to know?” he answered coolly, but trembling with excitement.
“It’s Miss Ikanov. Hanna Ikanov … we met yesterday night … at the auction … I was the woman who bought the manuscript.”
Viktor rubbed his foreskin back and forth very slowly to the sound of her voice.
“Of course … Miss Ikanov.”
He could clearly hear the discomfort in her voice. She obviously must be having some sort of problem … maybe the manuscript is a hoax, surely not?
“Well Mr Koshkin,” she cleared her throat.
“Call me Viktor.”
“Yes. Viktor … please call me Hanna. Can … can you tell me first what you know of the manuscript.”
Viktor paused collecting his thoughts, rubbing his thumb across the tip of his cock and then tasting his own pre-ejectuate.
“My understanding is based only on rumors and conjecture … nothing substantial, but, I must admit it got my interest … I have heard that the manuscript is extremely old and that its origins are not quite human … some say it maybe of demonic creation. It seems to have been created with the explicit purpose of corrupting the innocent, to bring out their shadow side and offer them an insidious wish … a dark and sinful wish … as the legend goes — an evil sorceress was fixated on corrupting the innocent — she made a pact with the Amanojaku.”
“With the who?”
“They say that the Amanojaku were perverted demons who seek the souls of those they can trick through temptation and by the arousal of their darkest most desires. They perform some sort of exotic sex dance. I think they call it the, “Dance of the Amanojaku.” Anyway, at first glance the, “Dance of the Amanojaku,” seemed simply mischievous. They appeared like imps, with a child-like innocence, a clever disguise of their evil agenda. Their dance was captivating … evoking the dark and insidious nature of its spectators.”
“And … mmmmm …”
Viktor could sense, even over the phone, that Hanna was aroused by the story. His tongue flicked across the tip of own cock.
“And that is all I know … now tell me what you have heard … “
Viktor could hear her voice had gone from nervous to very excited.
“Well … Viktor … mmmmm … I’ve heard several variations on this story, but like you, these are all rumours and I treated them with circumspect. I had heard that the manuscript was magical. An evil thing to behold … that it was covered with a skin-like material. Not that it is particularly unique, as the use of human skin to cover publications was quite a big thing, back in the day … but this skin covering is suppose to have originated from an offering that was made by the sorcess — she offered the demons a young virgin girl in return for performing their forbidden dance — this erotic performance created the evil sex magick. After the Amanojaku had raped and devoured the young girl, the sorceress used her skin to capture the essence of the spell in the form of the manuscript … or manuscripts, as there maybe more than one … Viktor, my demon fiend … it feels like flesh … it tingles with evil and selfish purpose … when I touch it, I imagine her … being raped by the Amanojaku demons … their cocks fucking her to death … mmmmm …”
Viktor groaned audibly, basking in their mutual perverted pleasure, his hands moved with a mind of their own, rubbing his foot-long stick, to the sound of the obvious enjoyment in Hanna’s words. She likes what I like.
“Then … my dear Hanna … neither of us shall be granted a wish,” stated Viktor.
“What do you mean?” asked Hanna, her small voice gave away more than a hint of disappointment.
“I mean, we both are already corrupted. Listen to us. I am masturbating myself, talking to you about sex with demons … about things that normal people would see as awful and horrendous … even shocking to contemplate, let along see as sexually exciting …”
“Yes, yes … talking to you about it dear Viktor is so thrilling, but I also see what you mean. I thought maybe it was all a disappointing hoax; a legend with no substance. But there is something magical about it. I can feel it, but the manuscript will not open for me,” Hanna’s voice sounded frustrated.
She called me, “Dear Viktor,” Viktor enjoyed their instant familiarity.
“Hanna … I have an idea, but we need to meet. I believe the manuscript is real. I believe that it wants us to do its bidding … it may grant us a dark wish, only if we wish for it together …”
“Oh Viktor, that makes me so wet. You could be right, I know this, because every time I hold it and think of the evil pleasures we could enjoy together, I orgasmed very hard …”
Viktor felt a rush in his loins, but he pulled short of orgasm.
“Oh my devious demon … you thought about me?” He panted.
“Yes … you must come to my apartment … the thought of the two of us worshiping it together … offering it a virgin … is just too much too imagine … oh, Viktor I am cumming again … aahhhggghhhhh …” Viktor could hear Hanna’s heavy breathing … “I guess you know the address? No need to answer Viktor. I noticed that you followed me. Come to me my demon …”
Viktor was going wilder over this depraved woman with every second.
Viktor arrived at Hanna’s apartment building and pressed the intercom that announced his arrival for their par amours. The August night air was fresh. He thought about his past rejections and disappointments. She is an evil pervert like me. He thought about all his paraphillias and physical imperfections.
“It’s Viktor,” he said into the grilled device. The buzzer sounded and the front door unlocked. Inside the entry his footsteps echoed against the marble, stone and glass, gleaming in decadence and quite a contrast in its Haute couture compared to his own humble abode.
The lift quickly ascended to the penthouse level and opened directly into the finely appointed apartment of eighteenth century Gothic decor with crimson wallpaper and antique-styled fittings. Inside the double-volume hallway, Viktor felt the warmth, uncomfortably warm in his clothing. He noticed a handwritten note.
Undress my demon.
Come worship the manuscript with me.
Our mutual dark wish awaits us.
Viktor apprehensively stripped naked. He stood in the hallway and looked at the trail on the floor marked the way ahead of him with black rose petals. It led down the dark wooden paneled corridor. He passed large old paintings depicting obscene, blasphemous and demonic themes and statues of clay, bronze and wood from various ancient phallic worshiping cultures – it was an eclectic collection of sexual wickedness appealing to his hierophilic taste. Original or ostensible, he could not tell. The trail led to an opening in the wall panel ajar that was obviously not a door.
She shares with me, her secret place.
Viktor peered inside the tenebrous room. This is the vestibule of our journey. Black candles lit the interior space like a hundred flickering wishes. Kneeing naked in the center of the room was Hanna. The shadowy interior befitted the evil excitement he felt. Ah, the altar, the Baphomet. The lusty desire that had burned inside him for years seemed to all rush forward to this moment.
She looked majestic in her emaciation. Hanna’s eyes were closed as she knelt with the manuscript lay in front of her with her hands at her sides — submissive and yet predatory — her short black hair and heavy black make-up contrasted her pale alabaster skin tone. Her boyish bony body, flat chest and hairless protruding vagina in full display for him. Viktor grinned in the semi-darkness. She was exactly as he had imagined her. His cock was now fully erect.
“Come to me, my demon,” she beckoned nervously.
Though her eyes remained tightly closed, she wore a mischievous grin on her impish face. He thought about the playfulness of the evil Amanojaku.
The temperature of the room was uncomfortably hot and he could feel himself sweat in tiny beads down his back.
“You look incredible,” he stated.
“Thank you,” she said, visibly shaking.
Viktor stepped closer and knelt in front of her — the manuscript laid between them.
“You look like a small boy with a demon’s cunt,” he said.
“Are you disappointed?” she asked.
“No, not in the slightest. You are exactly as I prayed for, my succubus.”
Her eyes popped open and stared at him piercingly. He felt his nakedness in front of her. She subconsciously licked her thin pale lips. Unsure what she would think of his hideousness – he felt like the beast — but then again, he thought to himself that had been what she had seemed to be looking for … the evil beast. Her eyes scanned his nakedness … up and down his hugely disproportionately erect cock that pointed vertically upwards across his stomach.
“You look like a small boy, but you have the cock of a incubus.”
“Are you displeased?” he asked.
“You are exactly as I prayed for, my incubus,” she answered as she brought herself forward so that her pudendum touched the surface of the manuscript as she kissed Viktor’s open mouth.
Viktor felt her tongue slip inside as she groaned into his mouth. Her kiss was wet and passionate. Wanton. Hot. She sat back on her legs.
“It’s … it’s stronger when we kiss,” she panted, “Your turn … let your genitals touch the manuscript … as we kiss … the feeling is even more licentious.”
Viktor did as she instructed. It feels like skin – human skin. It’s alive. His mouth closed silently over hers and the kissed for the second time. His loins buzzed with an intense sexual tingling that felt pre-orgasmic. She pushed back gently and stood above him, her legs straddled his upturned face. She placed her hands on his narrow shoulders and pulled him towards her until his face was close to her genitals.
“Aaarghhhhhhhhh …” she howled with pleasure, pushing his face hard against her wet cunt, “You make me want to morbidly sinful for Satan. I want us do evil things together. Like the Amanojaku … I want us to make an offering of a waif to the manuscript … seduce her, rape her, destroy her and dance in her skin.”
Viktor licked wantonly as she steered his mouth across her hairless childlike genitals. He drooled across her pudendum that appealed his acomoclitic taste. The intensity of the manuscript between his legs only increased with every moment.
“And you shall my true desire,” said Viktor, pulling her downwards until her vagina dripped directly onto his enormous devil cock, “We shall suck, fuck and commit every sin together. We shall invite the Devil’s craving into our hearts and sexual organs.”
Hanna’s tiny body pressed downwards against the tip of Viktor’s cock. Her elevated heart rate sounded like a bass drum in her ears. She could feel the wetness of her sweat as it poured from every part of her nakedness. The heat of hell, my love. She felt her incubus thrusting upwards between her parted legs. You will know the Devil as he shall be a cubit in length.
She allowed the first couple of inches to enter her, feeling the girth of her demon-lover. Though she had been preparing her small frame to accept such an appendage … it still felt as thick as her wrist as it stretched her, sliding deeper inside, inch-by-inch, with every thrust. The sensations of the manuscript seemed to pass directly through her lover and into her as if it were her who sat directly against it.
“Aaarggghhhhh … fuck yerrrr …” she howled even louder, allowing Viktor’s cock to reach up against her cervix. She felt the enormous cock impaling her, burning inside with both pleasure and pain.
There was a flash of lustrous white light that blurred her vision. Hanna realized that Viktor and her were still fucking, she could feel his cock inside her body, but no longer in her apartment. They found themselves surrounded by sylphlike androgynous demons. She immediately recognized them as the Amanojaku. They are with us. The Amanojaku danced and masturbated languidly around them, encouraging their coupling, as they rubbed their prodigious cocks over the pair of them efficaciously. Hanna fucked Viktor’s cock harder hoping to appease the pallid demons … we will offer you many virgins in return for my deviant wish, we are your willing servants … the demons began to sing their blasphemous requiem with raucous screams as they feed them an image of their hideous desires as they began shooting their demonic loads over the mating couple.
Hanna was not sure if it had been hours, minutes or just seconds. Time seemed to have no relativity. She felt herself leaning against her lover, who was equally disoriented. Hanna’s arms still draped around Viktor’s shoulders, their bodies covered in perspiration.
“Viktor … did you see what I saw?”
“Yes Hanna … the orphanage … the nuns …” Viktor croaked pointing towards the manuscript.
Hanna slide from Viktor’s body and retrieved the manuscript. It purred even stronger in her arms. They could both see that the latch was open.
“Open it Hanna.”
“Let’s open it together.”
They both took hold of the manuscript — as an exotic shock wave of pleasure gripped them.
Hanna opened the cover to display an image that echoed their Amanojaku dream … the orphanage … the nuns … the naked children being forced to have sex with the clergy and with each other … hideously divine … a horror story that brought Hanna and Viktor to edge of another demonic orgasm.
“I know this place,” panted Viktor.
“What do you mean?” Asked Hanna.
“I mean I know where this is. We must go there. I know what we must do.”
“Yes, I feel it too … an investment … I must become a beneficiary … the crooked and perverted clergy will do anything we request.”
“The isolation and secrecy fills me with such wickedness.”
THE SECRET – PART THREE
Hanna and Viktor waited in the cramped reception room.
Hanna looked out through the dirty windows into the courtyard filled with a group of waifish children dressed in dirty ragged cloths. Looking around, it was evident that the place was the result of years of neglect. Everything about the orphanage looked filthy, broken down or worn out. The door creaked opened and two nuns appeared to entertain their special guests. The enigmatic Sister Ogla Barz was a slim brunette of 31 years. Her colleague, Sister Izobella Rudolf, was a slender blond 22 years; both were excited and concerned about the outcome of this meeting.
“Welcome Mister Koshkin and Miss Ikanov. I am Sister Ogla and this is Sister Izobella.” Said Sister Ogla.
She eyed the two visitors, sizing them up and weighing the content of their earlier conversation over the phone.
“Please Sister Olga, call me Viktor. And this is Hanna,” replied Viktor.
“Thank you Viktor. Thank you Hanna … welcome to the orphanage. We are very pleased that you took the time to visit our humble establishment. It is a long drive out here, may we could offer you some refreshments?”
“Yes that would be pleasant,” replied Hanna.
“Sister Izobella,” said Sister Olga turning to her colleague, who immediately got to assist with the request.
Sister Olga waited for the door to close.
“Sister Ogla … now that we are alone, let me come straight to the point. As I mentioned over the phone, we are in a position to offer financial assist to aid the work that the Sisterhood does here at the orphanage … but under certain specific conditions,” said Hanna in a low tone as she leaned in close to the Sister.
“It is the same reason that I joined the clergy at the orphanage in the first place. You will find that most of the Sisterhood here at the orphanage are sympathetic to your sexual preferences.”
“Excellent,” replied Viktor, his cock beginning to stiffen at the mention of this aspect of their venture.
“You mentioned your interest in our occult practices?” asked Sister Olga.
“Yes, tell me more about this,” said Hanna excitedly.
“Most of my Sisters, not all, but especially those who share your passion for the young ones, have expressed to me a desire to practice the, “Black Mass,” we are all very excited about the possibilities … removing those who refuse to follow the insidious path, will create the perfect enclave for us, to exercise our dark worship.”
“Then you must do it. You must remove those who stand in the path of the darkness,” replied Viktor, trying to keep his voice above a whisper.
Just at that moment Sister Izobella returned with a tray of spicy tea. She handed them out to Hanna and Viktor.
“Thank you Sister. Would you be so kind and collect my billfold from my room?”
“Of course Sister,” replied Sister Izobella as she disappeared outside again.
“Sister Izobella is one of my devoted younger Sisters. But please tell me about your kind offer of assistant?” asked Sister Ogla nervously sipping her spicy tea.
Viktor handed her a brown envelope stuffed with bills all of large denomination. She quickly thumbed through its content, adding the value and then smiled.
“Consider it a down payment Sister. There will be more. Just get rid of your troublesome Sisters.”
“It will be done very soon,” answered Sister Ogla as she hid the envelope of cash in the folds of her black cloth habit.
“Tell me more about the abuse,” grinned Hanna enthusiastically as she took the Sister’s hand in hers. Hanna’s hand felt slightly damp to Olga. She liked their new sponsor. Sister Ogla accepted Hanna’s gentle caress, returning it without hesitation.
“There is about two dozen of the Sisterhood here, of which more than three quarters regularly partake in sins of the flesh. Either with each other or with selected young ones.”
“Yes. We keep them separate from the general population of about five hundred children that range from six to thirteen years old. The selected ones are always the prettiest of the girls and boys; who we keep chained to bunks in the lower floors – where they can be abused — beyond prying eyes of the Mother Superior.”
“She is one of the stumbling blocks?”
“Yes, Mother Superior and Sister Yullana, her second in charge. I have sympathetic colleagues in the regional administration. Some of this, “Down payment,” will be used to grease the wheels of corruption … they will both be gone within a week … and I will succeed them, as the next in the chain of command … and then Hanna…” Sister Ogla lent her lips close to Hanna’s ear. Ogla’s tongue flicked out along Hanna’s ear lobe … “The real fun can begin.”
Hanna removed the manuscript from within a leather satchel and placed it on the Sister’s lap. She looked curiously at Hanna. Her faced show signs of strong sexual arousal.
“What is it? It feels alive in my lap … oh … oh … o h… it’s as if I am also orgasming …” she puffed.
“It is ancient and very evil. It was created by demons. Let’s call it the pornographic bible … a book of sacrilege … a book of perversion …”
The spring lock opened and Hanna opened the manuscript to the very first page. Upon the yellowed and stained parchment was the image of two elderly nuns … each had been striped naked and nailed to inverted crosses; around them danced some very young naked children, all masturbating over them as the nuns hung and bled from their wounds.
“A premonition Sister.”
“Yes … I think you are right.”
It was a week to the day when Hanna and Viktor got word from the Sisterhood that due to unforeseen illness, both the Mother Superior and Sister Yullana were relieved of their duties, placing Sister Olga in charge of the orphanage. Sister Olga arranged the transfer of several other Sisters on the same day, removing all those who may appose her and the malicious changes she intended to make. Replacing them were others that shared her interests, making it possible to secure the entire establishment in the hands of those who honored dark gods. Hanna’s contribution made other changes possible. Hanna and Viktor looked forward to returning as soon as possible.
Sister Olga watched as they approached the gatehouse in the old Volga. The sun had already set and all around the grounds of the orphanage long shadows of their rural isolation began to close in. She had arranged the boundaries to all be reinforced. Nobody would be able to get in or out, without her permission. The old car parked on the gravel driveway, and she could see her patrons walk up the steps into the old brick building that housed the orphanage. There had been a few changes since last they visited. She was excited to share these with them. The purpose of their sponsorship was obvious, but she felt there was more it than just the perverted sex.
Sister Izobella greeted them at the door.
“Hanna. Viktor. Welcome,” she said.
“Thank you Sister,” the two women embraced, “I was so excited to hear the news … oh tell me that we shall celebrate tonight with High Mass?”
“You have arrived just in time … and you both will be our guests of honor at our dark harvest! I can’t wait to show you the changes that we have made. Come inside Sister Olga will be delighted to see you both.”
Sister Olga embraced first Viktor and then Hanna.
“We are so honored to have you both back again. It was so unfortunate that the Mother Superior and Sister Yullana fell to the sickness,” Sister Olga smiled inappropriately.
“What happened, please tell.”
“Come, I will tell you the whole sordid story. It is most unfortunate. But first, you must see the new chapel.”
Sister Ogla led Viktor and Hanna, while Sister Izobella followed behind. They entered the small chapel, with its high arched lancets and restored stain-glass windows. The light fell in glorious color across the wooden pews that radiated from the wooden pulpit.
“As you can see, at first glance, it appears that all is, as it always was. This is what the authorities will see, upon their regular visits to the orphanage.”
Sister Ogla then opened a small door at the side of the altar that led to a narrow staircase that descended downwards into the darkness. The stairs ended and the darkness gave way to a twinkling of candlelight. As their eyes became accustomed to the light Hanna and Viktor could see the ritual chamber beyond – a dark and wicked place dedicated to worship of evil.
Hanna was naked beneath the long hooded surcoat like all the other Sisters of the orphanage – the, “Black Angels of the Baphomet.” Her body tingled with the sense of occasion and for the release from the constraints that the Sisterhood of the malicious orphanage provided. Here she could be herself, among those who desired the same deviant pleasures. Her Sisterhood … she had set them all free.
After learning about the true fate of the Mother Superior and Sister Yullana, who had in fact never left the orphanage, that they had not really willingly retired, but had been held against their will. They who were to be offered during the blood ritual orgy – the first of many human sexual sacrifices for dismemberment that would offered on the Black Sabbath in demonic revel and celebration to their one true God, Satan.
The gathering had begun. In the center of the ceremonial temple gathered most of the Sisterhood … impatient for sex with the child slaves … impatient to taste the blood of the non-believers … impatient for the demonic orgasms promised by their Dark God.
Immediately below the monstrous effigy of the naked and phallic Baphomet, were the Mother Superior and Sister Yullana, stretched naked by their limbs and each nailed upside-down an inverted wooden cross. Both of them wailed and cried to their fellow sisters to help them, to reject the Adversary and to repent for the Mercy of God. Their screams fell on the deaf ears of the murderous pedophile Sisterhood who licked the blood from their gaping wounds and took turns at forcing long wooden dildos into their exposed cunts.
Sister Ogla greeted Hanna and Viktor and guided them to a place of honor – to oversee all that they had made possible — the noticed for the first time how well endowed Viktor was.
“It is as we both saw in the pornographic bible … the Devil is among us, and we shall know him for he shall be a cubit in length. There are many other things that the manuscript showed me Hanna … and tonight they shall unfold as you shall take your rightful place as the high priestess of Satan and we shall rape and partake in the flesh of the non-believers … and from this day forward every child shall worship Him or be offered to Him … and there shall be no end to the orgy in the temple dedicated to the worship of wickedness of the Amanojaku.
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