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 a story intended for adult entertainment only. All Rights Reserved © 2021 LITTLESALLY666.
AUTHORS NOTES: Inspired by a close friend who is going off to Seminary School very shortly. Thanks once again to BG for editing notes and corrections.
STORY CODES: Supernatural, Demonic, Satanic, Ritual Abuse, Rape, Corruption, Evil, Devil Worship, NC, Sexual Sin, Sex Demons, Young, Cross-dressing, Transgender, Transformation.
CREATED: 09.07.2021 (V33)
Seminary for Sissies 1
Peter’s father was a deeply religious man and he hated his twelve year son’s effeminate behavior. He had thought that discipline and prayer would be the answer — but it hadn’t had the desired effect. So he packed Peter off to St. Andrew’s Evangelical Seminary, hoping that the learning experience in an institution of God would make him a righteous boy … maybe even follow into the priesthood. Unfortunately, the St. Andrew’s Evangelical Seminary is filled with pedophile cross-dressing priests that parade as the “nuns” — these sexual predators use a three stage process that they call “XXX” — Xpose, Xcite and Xperience — to systematically abuse and molest them. Peter quickly discovers that he is not the only sissy in the school. In fact all the boys are specially selected for their effeminate qualities and latent homosexual tendencies that feed the network of pedophile priests in the corridors of the Holy See. It’s a corrupted place where they will learn that their true god is not benevolent or holy — in fact the priesthood serves the darkest of Gods and offers no excuses for their excesses in sexual depravity.
- Peter – a twelve year old boy, effeminate and bisexual
- William Gallop – Peter’s father, a staunch Christian, 45
- Coleen Gallop – Peter’s mother, 36
- John – an effeminate 12 year old boy that Peter means at the seminary school
- Matthew – an effeminate 12 year old boy that Peter means at the seminary school
- Mark – an effeminate 12 year old boy that Peter means at the seminary school
- Father Samuel – An effeminate pedophile priest and sexual predator that runs the St. Andrew’s Seminary School, 36
- Sister Angelina – An effeminate cross-dressing priest that dress as a “nun”, 35
- Sister Emmanuel – An effeminate cross-dressing priest that dress as a “nun”, 39
- Sister Stacy – An effeminate cross-dressing priest that dress as a “nun”, 32
- Cardinal Angelo Becciu of the Vatican – supporter of the school, fat pervert, 60
SEMINARY FOR SISSIES – CHAPTER ONE (2,624 WORDS)
“ 5 Let the wise listen and add to their learning, and let the discerning get guidance— 6 for understanding proverbs and parables, the sayings and riddles of the wise. 7 The fear of the Lord is the beginning of knowledge, but fools despise wisdom and instruction. 8 Listen, my son, to your father’s instruction and do not forsake your mother’s teaching. 9 They are a garland to grace your head and a chain to adorn your neck. 10 My son, if sinful men entice you, do not give in to them.” Proverbs 1: 5 – 10
Peter Gallop was twelve years old at the time. He was a small impish lad who cried all the way to St. Andrew’s Evangelical Seminary School. It was a long journey by car and his father, William Gallop, had given him a serious hiding for just being who he was.
You see, young Peter wasn’t the most masculine of boys. He was very cute, attractive and petite for his age. In fact at school, he was constantly being teased as a sissy, poofter, bender or pillow-bitter. Yes, he wasn’t strictly heterosexual … and realized in his early years, that he had an obvious preference for cock over cunt. At twelve the boys can be very cruel — but what was worse was his father’s loathing and homophobic reaction to everything that Peter liked or desired.
William Gallop was a deeply religious man of 45 years and his expectation was for his son to be just like him — an alpha male — who worked hard and dedicated his life to the righteous cause. To live by the good book. But from very early on, William could see his son wasn’t up to the mark. When beatings and punishment didn’t work, he had talked with his wife, Coleen, and the two of them had figured that the best way to deal with the problem was to send him to a strict religious institution, where their miscreant son would be taught by righteous priests and God-fearing nuns, and they would mold him into the young man he needed to be.
Coleen had been against it, at first. But William had said it was for the best. She loved her son dearly, despite William’s distaste of his effeminacy. At some level, she experienced a sense of guilt and self-loathing for her own weaknesses. These feelings she had never shared with her staunchly religious husband. How could she? He would have disowned her for such unholiness. Was it because she had really wanted a baby girl and not a boy? To dress up like a precious doll. Pretty, frilly dresses and ribbons in her hair. Practicing make-up together as they giggled in the mirror together.
Coleen never told William that she had found out that Peter had been interested in her delicate underwear. She had discovered that he had been tampering with her intimate apparel. If she had reported this to William, he would have undoubtedly beaten their son severely for masturbating with her stockings and wearing her sheer panties. His semen stains left a telltale sign — maybe sending him away would be for the greater good of their family — especially as she found a secret sexual joy in tasting her own son’s semen or that insistent, niggling need to place the dirtied garment right over her hallowed place — She pushed the blame for such sinful thoughts onto her husband. The boring Saturday night ritual. Missionary position with the lights off. A few quick pokes and William would groan with his release. If only her husband would provide her the same pleasure as when the thoughts of Peter sliding his boy cock into her steamy lady parts. The dark thoughts would always induce an immediate and powerful orgasm in the mature woman — followed by the shame and regret that came from knowing such harmful desires existed within her.
St. Andrew’s Evangelical Seminary School was located on the far west coast, in an old repurposed monastery. It was a remote place away from prying eyes. William had hoped that, not only would their son emerge a real man, but also, may choose to follow a life in the service of God Almighty. This had been a desire that William had felt, but was unable to do, as he lacked the emotional intelligence required for such a calling. Nevertheless, Peter, their son would be better off in a school where they were intolerant towards any wayward behavior and where they would use God’s strict rules to shape Peter’s fate.
“Welcome, Mr. Gallop, I am Father Samuel,” said the priest as he took Mr. Gallop’s coat, “And welcome to you, young Peter.”
William grabbed his son by the scruff of the neck and heaved the reluctant boy forward.
“The priest is talking to you, Son. He’s a man of God. Show more respect and answer him properly.” His father pushed him again roughly as if there was no bond or love between them — only a deep resentment for his son’s unnatural proclivities. William hated queers and poofs … and no son of his was going to turn out that way.
“Thank you … Sir,” replied Peter in abject fear.
Father Samuel was neither tall or short, fat or thin. Average in every way. But he had an ageless demeanor about him. A handsome man that appeared to be maybe in his mid-thirties. He was charismatic and seemed to be able to charm most. His hand rested gently on the boy’s shoulder.
“Just call me, Father,” added the priest, “ … and please Peter, why don’t you sit down over there, while I talk to your father for a moment?” Said the priest in a mild, reassuring and almost hypnotic tone.
Peter did as he was told immediately — without even thinking about the words of the priest — it was as if he was completely hypnotized by the mere tone of the priest’s voice. A voice he knew he had to obey. Next, he just found himself sitting down on the hard wooden bench that stood before the cross. Peter felt a little dreamy. He looked up at the large ominous cross … It wasn’t the cross that he was familiar with. It was a St, Andrew’s cross — that formed at “x” shape.
“Now, Mr. Gallop,” Started Father Samuel, turning his attention to the boy’s aggressive father, who still looked agitated by his wayward son.
“Please call me William,” answered William. The two men took a seat opposite each other, below the huge stained glass windows with images from the Old Testament. “My son …” he started, “My son is a bit … you know … and I have tried to beat it out of him … I have tried to “man” him up … but … mmmm …”
“William,” Father Samuel interupted with a firm yet non-accusatory tone, “We will take care of him … we understand exactly what you mean … and he will find that here, in St. Andrew’s Evangelical Seminary School, we have a zero tolerance towards any homosexual behavior … as the good book says in Leviticus 18:22 … “Thou shall not lie with a man as with a woman; for it is a perversion against God’s nature.”
Peter’s father glanced over at his son, who was still sobbing quietly. He loathed cry babies.
“Excellent, Father, Excellent!”
Convinced of his good judgment to place his son in the school, Peter’s father had taken his leave. After signing all the necessary paperwork — that meant that Peter was now the problem (if not the property) of St. Andrew’s Evangelical Seminary School; he thanked the priest and said goodbye (without saying a word to his cowling little son).
Father Samuel saw Peter’s father out. The priest had watched the car turn around in the wide gravel driveway and speed off into the distance. He smiled to himself. St. Andrew’s Seminary was in a very remote part of the countryside. There was only one road in and one road out. On three sides of the old monastery were shear cliffs that lead vertically downwards into the foamy white surf of the western sea. It was always stormy here at St. Andrew’s. There seemed to always be hostile weather conditions — it was frigidly cold and unforgiving — maybe the hardness had been one of the reasons that the evangelistic monks in the fifteenth century had chosen this desolate place to build their lonely monastery.
Father Samuel turned back inside. He felt his cock begin to throb. He looked at the crying boy. So effeminate. So pretty. He couldn’t wait to see the little queer boy completely naked. To be able to touch the boy inappropriately, as and when he wanted — to sexually abuse him in the way of their Dark Lord. But, he was getting ahead of himself. There was a proper way to inoculate the boy. A proper procedure that they always followed. A ritual of sorts to be observed. It never failed to break the boys in. Boys that would become even more girlie — even more effeminate. A pretty sissy for demon cock. He, like his fellow students, would all quickly become cock meat for his perverted brotherhood, soon enough … And, the dark journey towards Satan’s path would begin immediately.
At St. Andrew’s Evangelical Seminary School, all the lessons were conducted after midnight — when evil was most concentrated. The boys would learn the deviant way. To serve their Lord. It was what he called the “XXX” process of Xpose, Xcite and Xperience. They first would be “exposed” to the truth about their true Lord. Then they would learn to “excite” their masters. And upon the appointed time — they would “experience” the dark pleasures (more like give the dark pleasures) to him and his evil nuns. Yes, the doctrine must be observed.
Ah, thought Father Samuel … his beautiful wayward nuns. They all looked so convincing dressed in their dark habits and starched white cowls. They all moved like pretty-faced nuns. They all talked like angelic nuns of the Abrahamic God … but beneath their light robes, they were all pedophillic cross-dressers … with rock hard cocks and testicles filled with semen ready to be spilled in His name … all eager to sodomize their new intake of young bum boys. Boys who would learn to serve them … with their hands, mouths and anuses … to ultimately become sex slaves; serving the depraved priesthood … and serving the pleasure of the Dark Lord Himself.
Father Samuel sat down on the long wooden bench next to the new boy. They both looked up at the large St. Andrew’s cross that loomed over them. Father Samuel handed Peter his white lacy hanky and smiled at the crying boy. Peter accepted it and wiped his boy-tears.
“Things will be different for you here, Peter. Your father doesn’t understand you. But we do,” said the priest as he gently fondled Peter’s bare leg. His voice was hypnotic. “We serve the Lord and the Lord’s word, Luke 6:31 — “do unto others as you would have them do to you” … do you like me touching your leg, Peter? Does it make you feel nice?”
Peter had stopped crying. He nodded to the perverted priest. The attention of the kind man was calming. Peter liked the way the priest looked at him. The way he smiled with his perfect white teeth. He felt his anxiety lessen (now that his cruel and unloving father was gone). But also felt the priest’s touch, somewhat, inappropriate — but he didn’t dare to complain. Actually the softness of the priest’s hands was an unexpectedly pleasant feeling. Peter smiled back at the priest. Father Samuel moved his hand further up the boy’s leg, gently squeezing his twelve year old flesh — now his fingers pressing directly against Peter’s groin. Peter found himself becoming uncomfortably erect beneath the pressure of the priest’s fingers. His cock hardened and pressed upwards from inside his shorts.
“Now, I noticed that you were looking at the Cross of St. Andrew’s. It’s not the typical cross that you see in most churches, is it?” He asked.
“No … it’s … kind of … different…,” stuttered Peter.
Peter’s erect penis throbbed and ached against the firm rubbing of the priest’s caress. It felt orgasmic. Nobody had ever touched him that way. As he looked up into the priest’s eyes, he thought he saw the fiery glimmer of his own sexual awakening … he sat very still … How could he resist? He enjoyed the grown man feeling him up. Anyway … How could object against this figure of authority… even if he wanted too … which he didn’t … Peter let a quiet moan slip through his lips.
“Yes, exactly. It is very different, Peter,” continued Father Samuel.
The priest’s fingers wrapped tightly around the boy’s little hard sausage, squeezing it firmly and rubbing up and down its three inch length. The priest knew that in the darker parts of the old monastery, there were a lot of these “X” shaped crosses. They were used for the bondage, sexual abuse and for sacrificial offerings to Satan (his Dark Lord).
“This school is also very different, Peter. I want you to be very open with me. And I will be open with you. Do you ever touch yourself?”
Peter’s mouth went completely dry. “Errr … No …” he lied.
Father Samuel seemed to realize the lie immediately, glaring at the boy disappointingly.
“The Lord sees all, Peter. He knows what’s in your heart and what is in your loins …” Said the priest, “Well, enough questions for now, let me introduce to you, Sister Angelina.”
An attractive young nun appeared as he spoke.
“Evening Father. Hail the Lord,” said the nun, bowing her head and talking in a soft feminine tone. Her eyes sparkled at the sight of the priest gripping at the little boy’s groin.
”Hail the Lord …“ responded Father Samuel.
Finally the priest withdrew his hand from Peter’s lap. Peter’s breathing struggled to return to normal. Thoughts of how delightful the older mans hand felt upon clashed with what he had been beaten into him, making it hard to calm down as quickly as he wished.
Turning his attention back to Peter, he added, “As I said, things are done very differently here at this seminary. You will study at night. You will rest during the day. You will share a bed with another boy. You will learn to sleep completely naked here. The only clothing that you will wear ever, will be your sandals and acolyte gown. The nuns will oversee your washing, eating, lessons and your rest. Listen to your nuns, Peter. Sister Angelina will now take you to the dorm and dress you accordingly.”
Sister Angelina was not very tall. She was slender in build and was almost flat chested. Her face was very pale (as if she never saw the sun) and to Peter’s surprise, she wore mark-up. Nuns didn’t wear make-up, he thought? He said nothing. Luckily, his erection had subsided enough for him to stand without embarrassment. As he stood up, Sister Angelina took him gently by the hand.
“Father Samuel,” she said, “I will put him into the dorm with John, Matthew and Mark.”
“Very good Sister. Now Peter, as I said, you must listen to the nuns. Do exactly as they instruct. They will ask you to do “new” things. You must accept these “new” things as this is the way of our Lord. Hail the Lord!” The priest’s sing-song voice echoed in Peter’s head … that strangely hypnotic in its tone … how could Peter refuse … he felt intoxicated and was totally under his spell.
“Hail the Lord,” said Father Samuel.
“Hail the Lord,” replied Sister Angelina.
“Hail … the … Lord,” said Peter unconvincingly.
SEMINARY FOR SISSIES – CHAPTER TWO (2,561 WORDS)
“ 7 Just as Sodom and Gomorrah and the surrounding cities, which likewise indulged in sexual immorality and pursued unnatural desire, serve as an example by undergoing a punishment of eternal fire.” Jude 1: 7
Sister Angelina observed the young boy as they walked hand-in-hand towards the dorm. She found his obvious effeminacy arousing and was quick to imagine his fate in the hands of her fellow nuns. Sister Emmanuel and Sister Stacy, would be equally attracted to this sweet young thing and use him as cock bait — she licked her dark mauve lips as she thought about the hours of mutual masturbation, oral copulation and anal sex in the worship of their Dark Lord.
“Hail the Lord,” she whispered under her breath.
Upon their arrival at the dorm, Sister Angelina, led young Peter into a small antechamber that served as their privy … a kind of washroom, toilet and change room. Inside the white tiled room there were several urinals and toilets, but no stalls — no doors or privacy. And everywhere Peter looked, there were large floor to ceiling mirrors. He caught his own reflection — he looked nervous.
She ushered him inside and selected the appropriate sized acolyte gown. This was a gown made of a thin white fabric that would be open at the sides, held together with a loose cloth tie. Once placed over the head of the acolyte, this gown covered only to the mid-thigh and had a vertical slit at both the front and the rear — the front being purposefully placed, so that once the acolyte was erect, his penis would be clearly visible — and rear was to provide easy access to the boy’s anus.
“Now, don’t be shy, take off your “home” clothes,” said the nun. She licked her lips subconsciously.
“Can … Can I do it on my own?” Asked Peter meekly.
“You will have to get used to us nuns my dear. We will be the ones who feed you, educate you and wash you … so, let’s get started shall we?”
Peter looked as if he was about to cry again. This turned Sister Angelina on even more. Breaking this new boy in was going to be such a delight. Her she-cock was already rampant beneath the folds of her dark habit — precum was pooling at its tip and she desperately wanted to deflower this little runt. Depucelation was one of the many pleasures that the nuns enjoyed at the expense of their young victims.
“Let me bring Mark here,” the nun suggested.
Mark was one of the boys from Peter’s new dorm. Like Peter, this twelve year old was also small for his age. He had grown his hair shoulder length and his soft effeminate features, really made him look very girly. The nuns encouraged the boys to wear make-up … a little mascara … blush … a light lipstick … even paint their fingernails (and toenails). Mark was very pretty and Peter found himself immediately drawn to him, sexually.
“Mark, my dear, this is young Peter, he will be your new dorm mate,” informed Sister Angelina.
Mark, like Matthew and John, were all quite new to the school — though the three of them had all arrived a few weeks earlier — and had already started their routine at the Seminary. Classes were about to start. So Peter had arrived just in time.
“Say hello to Peter, Mark.”
Mark smiled at Peter, “Hello … Peter, it’s nice to meet you. I like your hair,” Mark said as his fingers toyed with his own long hair, “Mmm … Welcome to St. Andrew’s.”
“Now remember when you first arrived at school and we had to change from our “home” clothes to our gown of worship?” Asked the Sister.
“Yes, Sister Angelina.” Answered Mark. His girlie little voice always made the nun excited.
“And remember, you were once shy before the Eyes of our Lord?”
”Yes, Sister Angelina.” Answered Mark, checking his dark red nail polish.
“Will you please remove your gown, and help Peter to feel that being naked before your Sisters is expected here at St. Andrew’s … and that the Lord sees all.”
“The Lord sees all …” replied young Mark obediently.
Mark lifted his gown over his head and stood naked in just his sandals before the nun and before Peter. Mark’s body was thin and very pale, he had no public hair, a narrow bony chest with large round puffy areolas. Peter’s eyes couldn’t help but notice that Mark was semi-erect, as his penis stood out at right angles to his body. Sister Angelina grinned evilly.
“Now your turn Peter.” Said Mark, his excitement was obvious.
Peter removed each garment of clothing, one-by-one, and handed them to the waiting nun. Peter was already fully erect and blushed with shame.
“As this is Peter’s first time. I think you should stay Mark — maybe you can help with the cleansing? Would you like that?” Asked Sister Angelina.
“Yes, Sister Angelina.” He replied eagerly.
Sister Angelina asked Peter to stand in a shallow depression in the middle of the tiled floor of the antechamber. She brought a small container filled with warm water, together with soap and a rough washcloth. Mark took the wash cloth from Sister Angelina. He dipped it into the warm water and rubbed the creamy soap into the flannelette fabric.
“Lift your arms,” order the nun, “get on with it Mark, I haven’t got all night!” Her voice was a little agitated and impatient as she secretly stroked herself through her folds in her habit. Her cock strained with the need to be vigorously masturbated. Soon enough, she thought.
“Yes, Sister Angelina,” replied Mark.
Mark’s cock was now fully erect and Peter couldn’t help but stare at it. He wanted to reach out and touch it. He wanted to put it into his mouth and suck it. But he was just too shy. Mark pretended that the washing process was simply that. But he knew when the Sister asked him to wash the boy’s genitals … he would be expected to bring the new boy to orgasm … to rub is cock hard and fast … to make him ejaculate before the eyes of the Sister … before the Eyes of the Lord.
“Enough … now, Mark … wash Peter’s genitals. Make sure you clean his anus properly. Get your finger in there. Deeper. That’s it, cleanliness is next to godliness. Now, let me inspect it. Yes, that is … now his testicles, wash his balls, one at a time … excellent … and don’t forget his penis. It is the way of the Lord.”
Peter couldn’t believe what was happening, but accepted everything unknowing of where it was going. The way of the Lord was very different from what he had expected. After years of brainwashing at Sunday school and Bible classes. And surely, if his homophobic father knew about this cleansing, he would be completely horrified. It made Peter smile. Fuck him, he thought. Fuck him! The boy had pressed the warm soapy cloth against his dirty little anus. It feels so good. Mark’s finger had slipped through the cloth and penetrated his anus, sliding in and out several times, until he started to play with his balls. Nobody had ever seen his bottom, let alone touch it, so softly and intimately. Being penetrated by Mark’s finger, made Peter wonder about what it would be like to have the boy’s penis inside his rectum. All the time, Peter’s cock throbbed uncontrollably. He wanted to touch himself. He thought about Father Samuel. There was something about the priest. He wanted to please him … but wasn’t sure why or how?
Finally the boy wrapped the rough cloth around his little penis and began to stroke him up and down. It wasn’t the movement of cleansing. It was masturbation. Peter let out a soft moan.
“Yes, cleanse him … a bit faster!” Ordered the nun.
Mark obeyed immediately, stroking the new boy’s small three inch cock faster and faster.
“ Faster!” Ordered the nun. Her voice no longer sounded sweet or feminine. “It’s the way of the Lord!”
Now Mark’s finger glided up and down Peter’s shaft, touching him directly. His fingers pressed exquisitely against Peter’s exposed cock head, rubbing firmly with every down stroke, as the nun observed. The pleasure was intense. That funny tickling feeling in his stomach … those delicious butterflies began to sink into his perineum and testicles. A wash of electric energy shimmered and then, Peter could no longer control himself. His body shook from head to toes, as he ejaculated into the air. His cum shot over Mark’s pretty sissy little face. The intensity of his orgasm made him almost lose balance. Peter was mortified at what he’d done. But Mark just smiled and licked his salty lips.
“Look what you’ve done!” Scolded the nun, “You will have to lick your filthy cum from his face …”
Peter looked at the nun in total disbelief.
“Do it, darling … “ said Mark, smiling coyly.
Peter knelt down next to Mark and began to lick his own cum from the boy’s deliciously pretty face. Peter loved the taste of his own cum … he often ate it, imagining that it was another boy’s … but now, licking his spent semen from Mark’s face, made his cock stiffen again (even though he’d only just ejaculated).
“Eat your cum Peter…” ordered the nun, who was just a little too obvious in her enjoyment of the whole situation — watching the two horny boys had brought her to the brink of her own orgasm.
As Peter licked Mark’s pretty little face, their mouths and tongues kept meeting … it was magnetic … Soon they kissed each other passionately … even swapping Peter’s semen back and forth between their open lips.
Peter joined the late class. It was now after midnight and the classroom was dark outside. And though there was a storm brewing, inside the classroom, it was almost uncomfortably warm. Peter had not got used to the thin gown that barely covered his genitals. But, as all the other boys wore the same, he tried to adjust to this new environment. Mark held his hand. He had never held another boy’s hand before. Especially one that he was very attracted to. He couldn’t believe that he had cum on Mark’s face … and the boy had definitely wanted it … and how he’d loved kissing the boy … sucking each other’ tongues and tasting his semen in Mark’s delicate mouth. .
Sister Emmanuel was teaching the class. She was a slender thirty-two year old. Her habit had a plunging neckline that was low enough to show off the cleavage of her fake tits. Her face and make-up were immaculate. Long eyelashes and dark mauve lips.
Sister Angeline guided the two boys to the empty seat at the front, right under Sister Emmanuel’s eyes.
“Evening Sister Emmanuel … Hail the Lord,” said Sister Angelina to Sister Emmanuel.
”Hail the Dark Lord,” answered Sister Emmanuel.
Dark Lord. Had he heard right? Peter thought he must have heard it wrong.
“Welcome,” said Sister Emmanuel addressing both Peter and Mark together. “You must be the new boy, Peter, right?”
“Yes, Sister …”
“Sister Emmanuel, aren’t you a pretty one. Hail the Dark Lord!” There it was again. He had heard it right.
“Can anyone tell me why we do our classes after midnight? … Yes, Lewis?”
”Because that’s when the sexual demons are most active.” Said Lewis.
“Very good Lewis … Now, tonight, we will be watching a short film, in which you will see how to please the Dark Lord … we know Him by many names, don’t we? Can anyone tell me one? … Tristan?” Said the nun, looking towards the young boy with his hand up.
“Correct, anyone else?”
“Lucifer.” … “Old Nick” … “The Devil” … “The Adversary” … “The Devil” … “The AntiChrist” .. the eager young children all called out.
The lights dimmed and from the back of the room, the old 8mm film (in black and white) shuddered into life. The sound track was something pagan in nature, a simple flute and a tambourine. Rhythmic. Pulsing. Raw. The image of the Baphomet appeared. The idol of the black skinned demon with the head of a goat and the infernal flame coming from its brow. It’s curved horns. Leather-like wings. The naked pert breasts of a woman, crowned with thickly erect nipples. The hands extended, either sides, with words, ‘Samuel’ and ‘Lilith’ inscribed upon them. With the hind legs of a goat … and between its open thighs, rose an impressive erect cock, encircled by the twin serpents.
The camera pulled back to show a group of young excited boys of similar ages to those in Peter’s class, maybe some as young as ten and some as old as thirteen, all gathered in their semen-stained gowns of worship. They all knelt before the evil idol, praying and chanting — their little sissy cocks were erect and poking outwards from behind their gowns. The chanting got louder and more insistent as they all began to masturbate themselves in time to the pagan music.
Mark’s hand had snaked beneath Peter’s gown and had begun to masturbate him again. Peter groaned in pleasure. His libido was in overdrive, and his little boy cock immediately wept with copious amounts of precum into Mark’s effeminate palm. They looked at each other in the flickering light of the shuddering film. Mark kissed him on the lips. It was nothing more than a quick peck, but it excited Peter … he wanted more. Mark took Peter’s nervous hand and placed it over his erect cock.
“Stroke me, please, stroke my cock …” he whispered hoarsely, “I want you, Peter … I want you to cum in my mouth tonight …”
Peter was in a sexual daze as he gripped Mark’s small hard cock as they mutually masturbated each other. There were soft moans around the classroom, as all the twenty or so students indulged in the same. The sound of slapping wet flesh and the sourish smell of cock lust quickly heightened Peter’s arousal. Within moments he was close to orgasm — sensing this, Mark slowed his moments …
“Don’t cum yet … I want it in my mouth …” The young sissy begged.
The movie now showed a young boy dressed in his cum-stained gown standing before the evil statue. His cock was thin and long and he danced and stroked himself as they others watched and chanted …”Hail the Dark Lord … hail the Dark Lord …” the young boy pointed his cock towards his face and began to urinate over himself, his piss flow snaked up over his gown, soaking it until it turning it translucent … his piss stream was strong, fountaining from his erect penis as he pissed into his open mouth … gulping down his own salty offering to Satan.
Peter watched in complete awe. He’d done similar things secretly on his own. Oh, yes, he thought. His cock pulsing in absolute delight. How perverted! He loved doing disgusting things like drinking his piss and playing with his shit. He never imagined that there were others who would enjoy the same … his orgasm rushed forward like a runaway freight train …
”I’m … I’m … gonna cum …” Peter moaned as he felt the warm mouth of his classmate wrap around his small cock just in time as he blasted his sissy cum into the back of Mark’s hungry throat.
SEMINARY FOR SISSIES – CHAPTER THREE (2,639 WORDS)
“13 When tempted, no one should say, “God is tempting me.” For God cannot be tempted by evil, nor does he tempt anyone; 14 but each person is tempted when they are dragged away by their own evil desire and enticed. 15 Then, after desire has conceived, it gives birth to sin; and sin, when it is full-grown, gives birth to death. 16 Don’t be deceived, my dear brothers and sisters. 17 Every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of the heavenly lights, who does not change like shifting shadows. 18 He chose to give us birth through the word of truth, that we might be a kind of first fruits of all he created.” James 1: 13 – 18
The brightness of the morning light was quickly dampened in the dorm as the nuns closed all the heavy window blinds — plunging day into an artificial night. The forty or so boys of St. Andrew’s Evangelistic Seminary School were all in their respective dorm rooms. The stormy weather outside seemed to make no difference to the school’s steamy heat. The monastery’s boilers and heaters keep the school in a perpetually steamy state.
Peter, Mark, Matthew and John were located in the first of ten dormitories. Ten dormitories with four boys in each. Inside the dormitory itself — the room was simply furnished with an open closet to hang their cum-stained gowns of worship (that were never washed) and store their pretty little sandals. There was a large dressing mirror (to apply their sissy make-up). There were two low identical cots and a large white chamber pot — for it was forbidden to use the privy during the “rest” time. Peter and Mark were to share the same cot. John and Matthew were to take the other.
Naked, the four boys knelt either side of their cots in silent prayer to their Dark Lord. The nuns had told them during the midnight classes that “rest” time was a gift from Satan … that they were to spend it practicing the pleasures of the flesh … a simple prayer to their sex demons … to make them cum hard and enjoy as many orgasms as possible before nightfall … when they would bath, eat and learn more about “service” in the name of their one true God.
It had been towards the end of the classes that Father Samuel had arrived. Two of the acolytes had been specially selected by Sisters Angelina and Emmanuel to partake in a special ritual in the Dark Chapel. It was considered an honor to be selected. Peter had felt jealous that it hadn’t been him. He felt a great fondness towards the priest … dare he say, a strange kind of love even … there was sometime that drew him to this enigmatic man … a sissies desire to be deflowered by his majestic cock, maybe? He wasn’t sure. There seemed to be a concentration of wickedness in his presence, that triggered a deep craving .. an unholy and depraved lust.
In the flickering candle light, Peter saw that Mark now laid across on top of the sheet, opening his legs and rubbing his hard little pricklet provocatively as an invite to Peter to join him. Peter wasted no time to lay down and immediately felt the electric shock of Mark’s bare legs touching his. Sissy sex. The sensation of touching another boy’s flesh was exciting to Peter. Completely naked and unrestricted in any way. Just knowing that at St. Andrew’s Seminary, gay and sissy behavior were not only allowed, but encouraged, opened the door to a whole new world of sexual possibilities.
Soon the two sissies began to kiss each other — fondling each other’s cocks in mutual masturbation. Peter took the dominant role and lay on top of Mark, so that their little swords could duel — frotting their hard little cocks against each other, as they wildly tongue-kissed in the candle light. Peter noticed how Matthew and John were laying head to toe, sucking each other’s cocks. Watching them pleasure each other excited and spurred him to want to try the same. Peter thought about the film that the nuns had shown in class … the acolytes all urinating over each other … soaked in their filthy piss … a stinking piss orgy in the worship of Satan … their true God. He wanted to taste Mark’s piss. He wanted to lick Mark’s tight little anus and to finger fuck him up his dirty little nether-hole. These thoughts filled his mind … but the night had been long … and he was exhausted and spent … and despite all the delicious lustiness …
… he quickly fell asleep in Mark’s gentle embrace.
As young Peter drifted off into blissful sleep … he was home again … his father, William, smiled at him and took his sissy little hand. They walked into the local church. The choir were singing hymns of praise …
Then sings my soul, my Savior God to Thee
How great Thou art, how great Thou art
Then sings my soul, my Savior God to Thee
How great Thou art, how great Thou art
His father gently guided him to the front-most pew, right in front of the altar, and they both sat down. As Peter always did in the tiny chapel, he looked up upon the twisted body of Jesus Christ, who hung, crucified in great suffering upon his heavy cross. The crown of thorns, piercing his brow, with blood pouring forth and down his contorted face. To Peter’s complete amazement, the blood seemed to actually be flowing like real blood from a real puncture wound. He noticed how Christ was no longer draped in a loincloth, but hung now, completed naked and exposed … and his penis was erect. Shocked, Peter quickly turned to look up at his father expecting some kind of scolding for his wayward thought … but he wasn’t his father … he was sitting next to the priest … he was Father Samuel, who smiled evilly at him, while he caressed Peter’s inner thigh.
“Things will be different for you here, Peter. Your father doesn’t understand you. But we do,” said the priest as he gently fondled Peter’s crotch … wrapping his greedy fingers around Peter’s little sissy cock, “We serve the Dark Lord and the Dark Lord’s word — “do unto others as you would have them do to you” … do you play with yourself, Peter? Does touching your cock, make you feel nice?”
”Yes, Father …” answered Peter.
”YES you play with yourself? Or, YES, you like me touching your cock?”
”Both, Father …”
Then everything changed as dreams tend to do … Peter’s mind filled with all the chaotic joy and the taboo lust that he had experienced in his first night at St. Andrew’s Seminary School — the handsome face of the dark priest, Father Samuel, continued to smile at him approvingly. Images of the black stone Baphomet and the Dark Chapel with its pornographic stain glass windows; that depicted scenes of hellish sex between young pretty femboys and the beasts of hell. Peter marveled at how detailed the images were … how elongated the demon’s sexual organs were, so huge, that they reached up from their foul loins into their own mouths as they performed auto fellatio …
As Peter dreamed on, he saw more images of the Dark Chapel (a place he had actually only heard about, but had never actually seen). A secretive place of evil and wickedness. He saw that it was lined with long narrow wooden pews (like that in his Father’s church). But along these pews, at regular intervals, there were carved wooden cocks that extended upwards from the pew seating. Each six inch phallus positioned to correlate to a standing sissy boy — who, at the appropriate time would lower themselves upon their respective phallus — impaling themselves and taking their anal virginity in the glory of the Dark Lord.
Now Peter heard choral sounds — songs of praise, but of a different faith — in their most prettiest and practiced of voices the choir of sissies sang so beautifully. These were pagan songs of praise in Latin to honor the Goat of Mendes. The blasphemous words proclaiming their lust for demon cock; their proclivities for all forms of sexual depravity; and their love of sex with demons. Though Peter had never learned Latin, in his dream state, he intuitively knew the meaning of their song …
We awaken in lucid dreams,
touch us now with demonic means.
We feel alive in lustful nightmares,
Forbidden love for the one who dares.
Peter’s perverted dream stirred his femboi cock to full erection, weeping with copious precum, as his dreaming eyes fell upon the vision of three evil nuns — Sister Angelina, Sister Stacy and Sister Emmanuel. Though their heads were still covered in their deep black cowls — but upon their foreheads, spouted tiny horns. Their bodies, no longer hidden behind shapeless habits, displayed their true sexual identities …
Forbidden fruit is our pedo madness,
Sex with demons for all their badness.
Seen by none, you’re our evil one,
A night of phantasm love to makes us cum.
The three shemale Sisters swayed their narrow little effeminate hips and gyrated provocatively — their rampant cocks dripped with demonic seminal fluids. And as they cavorted gaily around in their evil Dark Chapel, they all rubbed their fake bubble tits and engorged transgendered cocks. Peter panted hard. His little preteen hips bucked back and forth subconsciously. Finally with their masturbation dance was over and the three pervert nuns knelt before their demonic high priest. Their godhead. He sat motionless upon his phallic throne-like seat that was open beneath his buttocks — Peter gasped — it was Father Samuel. For he was truly demonic … no longer human … His crown was adorned with large pointed black horns; his hairy legs shaped like the hides of the goat; and his cubit-long cock, dripping with his evil precum slime …
Kiss us deep with your forked-tongue kiss,
Coiled in your serpentine bliss.
Blasphemous dream of our perverted love,
Hail Baphomet, fuck the God above.
Peter then noticed his other dorm mates, young John and young Matthew. John lay naked at the base of the great throne, his face was positioned immediately beneath Father Samuel’s anus. John’s tongue engaged in licking the Father’s open oily sphincter with great gusto; while little sissy Matthew crouched across John’s legs so that their genitals rubbing against one another; his small pretty fingers (with his freshly painted nails) of both hands, wrapped around the veined girth of the Father’s enormous cock. Matthew grinned with wickedness, his mucoid-coated fingers gripped the priest-demon’s flesh. He glided the priest-demon’s pellucid foreskin up and down, over the its bulbous-shaped cock-head. And as he slowly stroked the priest-demon in time to the pagan chanting, the joyously the sissy choir sang with their effeminate voices echoing inside the evil lair.
Succubus cock and demon seed,
Pederasty and sodomy is our willful deed.
Worship Satan to the pagan drums,
Take thy pissing cock inside our virgin rectums.
The three nuns stood and once again began to dance provocatively before him, touching themselves and each other as they gyrated and frotted together. Peter watched their feisty movements, as they masturbated their rampant little cocks. Now, taking the used chamber pots from the boys’ dorms, that were filled to the brim with a briny mixture of sissy piss and feces, the nuns began to anoint themselves and the statue of the Baphomet, pouring the stinking urine and shit over it — smearing the softened mana down the length of its stone phallus — in mock masturbation.
”Our Father, who art in Hell, Satan be thy name,” chanted the three shemale nuns, “Thy Kingdom cum. Thy will be done, on Earth as it is in Hell. Hail the Dark Lord …”
Peter’s mind floated above it all — and looking down he saw himself and young Mark. They were the chosen ones. They were both naked and prone. Both facing each other, but separated, as they had been bound to a huge free-standing St. Andrew’s Cross. The enormous cross stood immediately before the Baphomet idol. They were to be offerings to the Devil. Peter’s arms and legs were bound by tight leather cuffs, so that he was spreadeagled along the arms of one side of the St. Andrew’s Cross and Mark’s arms and legs spreadeagled along the reverse side. They faced each other between the upper divide of the “X”. Close enough that if they pressed forward they could tongue kiss, and close enough between the lower divide of “X” that their groins could touch.
The choir of pretty fembois danced and gyrated upon their wooden phalluses, thrusting up and down in time with the pagan beat, rubbing their eager cocks in anticipation of the human sacrifice. Now the Sisters began to anoint both Peter and Mark. First drenching them in the urine from more of the used chamber pots; then paying special attention to their anal openings, the nuns grabbed handfuls of soft feces and smearing it over their genitals.
”Our Father, who art in Hell, Satan be thy name. Thy Kingdom cum, Thy will be done, on Earth as it is in Hell. Hail the Dark Lord…”
It was time. Peter found himself, no longer disembodied, but back inside himself, as he hung helplessly against the hardness of the St. Andrew’s Cross. Sister Angeline positioned herself behind Peter, rubbing her cock against his virgin anus. Sister Stacy did the same to little Mark. Grabbing Peter’s hips, the shemale nun pressed her cock forward, so that its tip penetrated Peter’s anal opening.
“Let the sodomy sacrifice begin!” proclaimed the priest-demon stood upright from his phallic throne upon his black-haired goat legs, “Hail Samuel. Hail Lilith.”
Peter bucked uncontrollably — overtaken by his depraved wet dream — his sissy-boy semen spurting upwards over his naked body.
It had been a while, since Coleen had heard anything about her twelve year old son, Peter. She wondered how he was doing at his new school, St. Andrew’s Seminary. For William, it seemed that out-of-sight-was-out-of-mind. He got on with his dull routine without any further thought of Peter and his long distance from home. Coleen thought with her son gone, that her unholy and unnatural thoughts of incest would vanish. But they didn’t. It had actually compounded her desire for something more deviant in her dull and unsatisfactory sex life.
Oftentimes, she would find herself staying from thoughts of godliness to desires for wickedness. Instead of being the devoted and selfless spouse, whilst shopping, she would find herself looking at young boys and girls (all about Peter’s age) … not missing her son, but wondering what it would be like to undress them and touch their young bodies … sometimes willingly and something against their will.
And at home, instead of being a diligent housewife … oftentimes she would find herself in her walk-in-closet … she had kept her cum-stained underwear as if they were precious objects worthy of worship. She loved to touch herself whilst inhaling their sourish bleachy odor. It would always make her cum hard as she watched herself jilling-off in the dressing mirror.
It wasn’t easy to accept the fact that she was a pedophile, disinterested in sex with her husband. And when forced to indulge William every Saturday night, she would imagine the unspeakable. As his cock thrust into her — in her mind — she was being fucked by her own son or one of his effeminate friends. Their androgyny seemed to excite her more than she had realized. In her heart, she knew this was wrong … that this was the devil’s work, she told herself. I am evil, vile and wicked … but she liked being this way.
If you have enjoyed this story or would like to offer praise to the author, who is always hungry for encouragement and affirmation, please email to firstname.lastname@example.org