THE CORRUPTION OF SISTER SIMONE by Sinful Simone

Feature Writer:  SinfulSimone

Feature Title: THE CORRUPTION OF SISTER SIMONE

Published: 11.05.2023

Story Codes: Erotic Horror, Blasphemy, Demon Sex

Synopsis: A letter from a “tormented” nun

The Corruption Of Sister Simone

Mother Superior Josephine Haywood
Sisters of Christ’s Mercy Convent
113 Boulder Road
June 6, 1968

Dearest Mother Superior,

Had I known he was a demon, I never would’ve spoken to him.

As you know, I have taken my vows very seriously since I joined the Church ten years ago. I was eighteen, and I grew up very poor, so the vow of poverty was a life I knew already. Mom and Dad took me to Mass every Sunday for my whole life, and we studied the Bible every night as a family. I knew and loved Jesus better than I even loved my parents. Becoming a nun — a Bride of Christ — was something I dreamed about since I was very small.

And nothing could be more fulfilling than our charity work. A vow of chastity was nothing compared to the prospect of spreading God’s Word and Jesus’ love throughout our community. Besides, the boys never paid any attention to me during school, so I never once had that temptation. Perhaps if I’d had more experience in that area before becoming a nun, I may not have succumbed so easily.

But he was a polite young man. He was well-spoken and dressed nicely but casually. He asked for my help with a recipe in the grocery store, and we simply got to chatting. His name was Luke. He had bright blue eyes, dark brown hair, and a sweet smile.

“I’m new in town, just moved in from the South, and I just started my new job this week,” he hesitated, “I hope I’m not being too forward asking, but would you like to have coffee with me sometime?”

I’d never been asked out by a man before, so I paused for a few seconds, struggling for what to say.

“You don’t have to, of course! It’s just that I still don’t know anybody around here yet, and I thought it’d be nice to chat to a local,” he explained.

“Oh, no, of course,” I responded. I took this as an opportunity to do more community outreach, and to make a friend outside the church, “But … I’m a nun, so don’t go thinking this is a date or anything.”

He looked me up and down, curious. I felt him studying all five feet and three inches of my slim frame, my long blond hair, and my green eyes. He gestured towards my long skirt and my button-up shirt.

“You’re a nun? No way! Where’s the gowns? The whole black-and-white getup?”

It’s been three years since the Second Vatican Council but still people outside the Church don’t know that nuns are allowed to wear civilian clothes now.

“I only wear my habit during Mass and around the convent. We can wear regular clothes when out in the wider community.”

“Well that’s very progressive … for the Catholics,” he smirked.

There was a tone of disdain in his voice that I didn’t care for, but I chose to ignore it. After all, the Church taught me that community outreach is not about persuading people to join but about spreading God’s love through good deeds and generous attitudes. Besides, defensiveness and talking down to others never got me anywhere.

“It’s the Sixties, Luke. The Church has come a long way in the last few years.”

I smiled, letting him know I wasn’t offended.

“But I really must return to my duties as the convent shortly. I’d be happy to meet you at Lou’s Diner. Thursday at 10.00 am? It’s just a few doors down the street.”

He agreed and we said our goodbyes. I didn’t deliberately withhold information about my not-date with Luke from my fellow Sisters at the convent — I just didn’t want them to gossip and turn an innocent thing into something it wasn’t.

Thursday morning arrived, and I met Luke at the diner. We chatted, he asked a lot of questions about the city and I answered them as best I could. He then asked some questions about the Church, the convent, and being a nun. I answered these confidently, happily. I invited him to that week’s Mass, but he politely declined.

“Besides, I’d probably burst into flames the second I set foot in a Catholic church.”

I remembered his Southern upbringing.

“Baptist, huh?” I asked with a sly smile.

“Something like that,” he agreed.

I’m an only child, but talking with Luke was what I’d always imagined it would be like to have a brother. Fun, innocent discussions about anything and everything, without any ulterior motives on behalf of the man.

So I continued to see Luke regularly when I was in town on errands or community outreach. Every time, he was polite and respectful of me and the Church. Though I never convinced him to attend Mass, he was nevertheless interested in everything I had to say about our religion.

Which is why I never gave it a second thought when he invited me back to his apartment after one of our lunch meetups at Lou’s Diner.

I willingly, naively, followed him to his building and up the elevator to his penthouse suite. The place was enormous! With gorgeous hardwood floors, marble kitchen counters, a newly renovated bathroom, and expensive-looking modern art on almost every wall. To a poor country girl, Luke’s apartment looked like something out of the movies.

“You okay, Sister? Your jaw’s almost on the floor,” He chuckled.

“Gosh, I’m sorry, but your apartment is bigger than my parents’ house! This place has gotta be expensive, right?” I immediately chastised myself for being so materialistic.

“I guess. I don’t know. Work paid for it, I just live here,” he shrugged modestly, ”Drink? I’ve got tea, coffee, water, wine …”

“Just water. Thank you.”

He poured a glass and handed it to me. Our fingers briefly made contact. A deep, loud buzz filled my mind the instant we touched. It blocked out all thoughts. I never realized it until then, but for all our time together, we had never physically touched until that moment. I recoiled from his fingers, almost dropping the glass in my haste.

“Whoa! Simone? You okay?”

I shook my head, clearing the static. “I … I think so. I think maybe I got a static shock or something. It’s gone now. I’m all right.”

“Okay. If you’re sure …” he still looked concerned.

I nodded.

“I am. So, what was it you wanted to show me?”

“Of course! I almost forgot!” he chuckled, embarrassed, “Here, take a seat on the couch. I’ll go get it from my study.”

I sat in the comfiest seat I’ve ever sat in. The fabric hugged me warmly. The padding gave way to my body politely. My feet rested comfortably on the floor. I was so relaxed on that couch, that I could’ve slept there immediately, but Luke returned in a flash.

He pulled the object from behind his back.

“I saw it at a market last weekend, and it made me think of my good friend Simone,” he explained as he extended his arm out, offering it to me.

“Oh … Oh Luke, it’s magnificent!”

It was a crucifix. No ordinary crucifix, however. This one was solid gold, encrusted with huge and expensive gems — rubies, sapphires, and emeralds. Hundreds of tiny diamonds graced the border of the Cross. Jesus was nailed to the Cross, intricately carved in gold. I could see the definition of his lean muscles, the divots in his hands and feet from the nails. His crown of thorns scratching and digging into his head. It was a few inches round and about ten inches in length.

I stared at it in his hands for a long while, admiring the incredible artistry and detail.

“Go on, take it. It’s yours.”

“Luke, no … I could never. It’s too … it’s too much. It deserves to go on display in a museum or something. Not just sit in a drawer in a sad little nun’s desk.”

“Well, then, you can donate it. Please, take it. I got it for you. As a thank you for making me feel so welcome.”

I hesitated for a few moments, then surrendered.

“Okay. It’s way too much, truly. But thank you. It’s incredible. I don’t know how I’ll ever repay you.”

Our hands touched again as I accepted his elaborate gift. Once again the loud, droning buzz filled my head. My mind vacated all thoughts all at once. Voices screamed at me. All of them saying dark, sinister things. None of the voices were mine. Black tendrils crept in from the corners of my vision. My knees gave way. But wasn’t I just sitting down? How was I standing up?

“Simone? Simone!” Luke’s voice, was full of concern.

Coming from deep within a well, one thousand miles away. I followed it back to reality.

I was clutching the crucifix so hard the diamonds were cutting tiny holes into my palm. Luke was looking down at me, holding me in his arms like dancers at the end of a routine.

“What … happened?” I asked groggily.

“You took the cross, stood up to … I guess hug me? Then you started to collapse or something. Lucky I caught you, else you would’ve cracked your skull open on the coffee table.”

“Oh. My hero,” I smiled.

The buzzing was still in my head now, but I was getting used to it. It was actually kind of pleasant, having a break from my own incessantly nagging thoughts for a while.

“You sit down, I’m gonna call a doctor. I don’t think you should go back to the convent just yet.”

He guided me back to the world’s comfiest chair.

“Yes … good idea. Thank you, Luke.”

He nodded, then disappeared behind me, presumably going to the kitchen to phone a doctor for me. I spent my time examining the crucifix. Jesus’ face had so much detail, that you could even make out his expression of anguish. But … was it anguish? I looked closer. It almost looked like he was smiling. Grinning, even. I looked at his body again. At his lean, muscular chest. His subtly defined abs. At his large, throbbing erection. How did I miss this before? Jesus was not only nude, but fully erect?

I gasped with shock, then giggled like a schoolgirl. Then something compelled me. And I’m ashamed to admit this, Mother Superior — I rubbed Jesus’ erection with my thumb. As I did so, I felt a feeling I’d worked so long to repress since taking my vows. I felt aroused. I felt my crotch tingling with forbidden excitement. I looked down at Jesus again. Grinning, erect Jesus. He winked at me, then nodded. I had his permission. I was a Bride of Christ, after all.

Immediately, I lifted my skirt and moved my underwear aside. I guided the golden, bejeweled crucifix between my legs and started rubbing it against my vagina. I forgot all about Luke, even though I was in his apartment. I was obsessed with my pleasure and nothing else.

I rubbed the crucifix against my bare labia and my clitoris. Wantonly masturbating with the Cross. I was moist and moaning. I slipped it inside myself, using the crucifix as a dildo while I rubbed my clit with my other hand. Faster and faster, harder and harder. It didn’t take me long to climax. I came hard on Luke’s sofa, my whole body twitching as sinful, sacrilegious pleasure enveloped my body.

Once the high of my orgasm faded, sanity returned. I couldn’t believe what I’d just done. I felt shameful and disgusting. My blasphemous masturbatory act was bad enough, but to do it so openly in a man’s home? I was worried there weren’t enough beads on a rosary to redeem myself. I pulled the crucifix from my womanhood and fixed up my panties and skirt. I stood up to leave when I realized Luke was sitting in the chair opposite me.

“How long have you been there?!”

My face burned red with shame.

“The whole time. You didn’t see me?” he grinned.

“You went to call a doctor for me after my fainting spell, then disappeared,” I recounted uncertainly, “Right?”

I was beginning to doubt my memory, my grasp of reality.

“Doctor? I said no such thing, Sister,” He stood up and approached me, “Are you feeling okay? You aren’t acting like yourself, Simone.”

He pressed the back of his hand against my forehead, checking my temperature.

The horrible static returned, but this time I was grateful for it. I welcomed it. I let it drown out my thoughts, my guilt, my dwelling over my shameful masturbating. I stared into Luke’s dark eyes and felt another sudden burst of arousal.

“Would you stop me if I tried to kiss you, Simone?”

I shook my head.

“No.”

My body wanted it. My mind was an empty void.

He nodded, then leaned down to kiss me. I regret to inform you that I allowed him to do so. Not only that, but I opened my mouth and kissed him back.

We embraced, kissing in the middle of his living room – a nun and her new layman friend. Lips pressing against lips. Body pressing into body. Breathing heavily. His hot, wet tongue slipped into my willing mouth. My tongue slid against his.

I opened my eyes and to my surprise, Luke’s were already open and gazing into mine. I wondered how I could have ever thought they were blue because when I looked into his eyes as we kissed, I saw for the first time that they were entirely black.

I was so transfixed by his shark-black eyes that I didn’t even notice he’d started undressing me. He’d unzipped the side of my skirt and slid it down my legs. He’d unbuttoned the front of my shirt and was now slipping it off my shoulders. I allowed him to unhook my bra, and I helped him remove it. And still, we made out. Swallowing each other’s saliva, moaning softly and breathing quickly, hearts racing with desire.

He grasped my breasts with his large, strong hands and kneaded my tits like bread. Rough, hungry fingers pressed and pulled at my soft B-cups. Sharp fingernails tweaked my erect nipples. My crotch ached with lust. I sucked his warm tongue greedily.

It wasn’t long before his hands ventured further down my torso until they found my underwear. My white panties, which were almost see-through I was so wet. He hooked his fingers into the waistline of my panties and yanked them down. The air in Luke’s apartment was hot, but it felt refreshingly cool on my wet pussy. Apart from my rosary beads, socks, and sneakers, I was now naked in this man’s apartment. And I was glad.

Without warning, Luke shoved me down, back onto the luxuriously soft couch. I melted into it and spread my legs, displaying for him my bare, untouched womanhood. He immediately dropped to his knees and shoved his face into my crotch, burying his mouth in my thick, unkempt pubic hair.

Mother Superior, I’ve never felt such overwhelming pleasure before. His hot tongue flicked and lapped at my virgin vagina, and we both moaned as he drank my juices of arousal. I surrendered to his magnificent tongue. I parted my smooth legs as far as I could, granting Luke access to as much of my pussy as I could. I writhed and squealed with carnal delight at the feeling of his tongue and lips exploring my womanhood. He sucked and licked, building my pleasure with each tiny movement.

He reached up and resumed playing with my tits. Squeezing and tweaking while he devoured my hot, wet pussy. I placed my hands over his, urging him to keep fondling my tits.

I could feel the feeling building inside me.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck,” I cried, ”You’re gonna make me cum!”

And seconds later, I came. Red hot flames of pleasure engulfed my body as Luke made me cum. I squealed and moaned and cursed throughout the orgasm as my body twitched and jerked from the blood his mouth provided. I looked down at him, my eyes locked in the deep pools of pure blackness of his eyes. My mouth was wide open, drooling from the corners.

“Oh fuck, that was incredible,” I whispered gratefully.

Luke grinned up at me. His smile was all teeth, all sharpened to points. How had I never noticed that before? His face was turning red from the heat. He stood up and extended his hand. I accepted it, and he helped me to my feet.

I kicked off my shoes and quickly pulled my socks off, and then I kissed him again. I could taste my pussy juices on his lips and his tongue, and I was delicious. I stuck my tongue into his mouth to taste as much of myself as I could.

As we made out, I heard Luke unzip the fly of his suit pants.

“Suck my cock, Sister Simone?”

I was sucking his tongue at the time — the voice didn’t come from his mouth — it seemed to come from the center of my skull.

I obediently dropped to my knees and now was staring straight at Luke’s hard cock. It was thick, circumcized, and about eight inches long. There wasn’t a hint of any pubic hair at all. His dick looked like the tastiest thing in the world. I didn’t hesitate, and I grabbed it gently with both hands and guided the head of his dick into my mouth.

It was so warm and so tasty. My eyes were locked on his black eyes. I swirled my tongue around the thick purple head several times, savoring the garlicky, fleshy flavor of this man’s cock head. I swallowed his sweet juices of arousal, and it was like taking a sip of whisky. The heat filled my throat and my stomach.

I needed more. I’d never sucked dick before, but instinct kicked in. Guided by his hand on the back of my head, I started bobbing my head back and forth, sliding my lips up and down his shaft. In and out, Luke’s large cock entered and exited my mouth. He groaned with approval.

He grinned down at me.

“What a naughty nun! You’re a natural cocksucker, Sister,” he told me with the voice in my head, “Keep it up.”

I was so eager to please him, that I didn’t even care he was mocking my ongoing fall from grace. I just kept sucking and sucking, faster and faster. I wanted him to feel as good as he made me feel. I needed to make him cum. I needed to drink of his seed.

He allowed me to suck his cock for another few minutes, then he ordered me to stop.

“But … why?” I pleaded with him, my chin wet with drool, “Was it not good enough?”

“I need more, Sister Simone.”

He pointed at his bedroom.

Somehow, sanity began to return to me. The spell was starting to weaken.

“I … I don’t know,” I covered my chest with my arms, ”No. I should go … I’ve already done more than I could ever atone for.”

I thumbed the rosary beads around my neck and began to recite The Lord’s Prayer to myself.

“And go where? Back to your little convent? Back to your priests to whom you’ll confess your sins?”

His laugh was cruel.

“I’ve sinned. I have to atone for my discretions, my blasphemy!”

“Sister,” he spoke to me as though he was speaking to a particularly stupid child, “Don’t you realize? The church is full of sinners.”

“What are you talking abo—“

He placed his head on my forehead.

“Allow me to show you.”

The black tendrils crept across my vision again. They grew and grew until they eclipsed the room with blackness. Then, I began to see visions. Sister Margaret and Sister Theresa playing poker, betting with money they stole from the donation box. Sister Amy, Sister Pamela, and Sister Mary drinking to the point of passing out. Sister Wendy performing oral sex on the wife of a parishioner. Father Callaghan masturbating in the confessional. Father O’Brien doing things with altar boys.

“No, no, that can’t be true,” I tried to protest. I tried to rationalize it, “Besides, even if the local church is tainted, the global Church is helping the world at large!”

And so, the visions kept coming.

Bishops with secret families. Priests helping former Nazis escape Germany after the war. Giant palaces in the Vatican, filled with enough gold to eradicate world hunger three times over. Soldiers killing innocents in God’s name. So many atrocities were committed in the name of Jesus.

Luke released me.

“You see? The Catholic church doesn’t care about you. The Catholic church doesn’t even care about God. So why devote yourself to a cult of hypocrites, Sister? Embrace sin. It’s the only rational choice.”

I stared at the floor, unable and unwilling to accept what I knew deep down to the truth. He’d broken me. Shattered my faith in not just Catholicism, but Christianity as a whole. It would be no different in the Protestant church, the Anglican church, the Mormons, or the Jehovah’s Witnesses. Every religion is only about feeding the ones in power and bleeding money from the naive followers.

Luke ignored my existential breakdown. He continued with his mission.

“The ritual is not yet complete, Sister,” he informed me with the voice in my head.

He put a hand under my chin and squeezed my jaw lightly. The loud, droning buzz returned.

I looked up at him. I hadn’t even seen him undress. I studied his suddenly naked body. His hard, delicious cock. His red skin. His dark hair. His impossibly black eyes. The trance was back upon me. My resistance faded. My lust returned. I nodded.

“Yes. I understand.”

He picked me up by my jaw and lifted me to my feet.

“Bring that thing, too.”

He pointed to the crucifix he’d gifted me what seemed like a hundred years ago.

I dutifully picked it up from the sofa and followed him to the bedroom. Watching him walk was hypnotic. His lean, muscular back. His tight, round ass. His strong, long legs. All that bare skin, bright red and glowing. Oh Mother Superior, how could I resist?

The bedroom was painted entirely black. Dozens of red candles burned brightly. He gestured to the king-size bed — an ensemble mattress with black sheets — and I lay down on my back. Unlike the couch, the bed was incredibly uncomfortable, it felt more like a stone slab than a mattress. I placed the crucifix on the bed beside me and spread my legs.

Luke climbed on top of me. I placed my hands on his hot back and pulled him close against my body. His flesh was so hot, that it almost burned me. I parted my lips and he slid his tongue into my mouth. It was now longer, thin, with a forked tip. I let his snake tongue slide deeply into my throat, feeling it tickle down past my voice box. I pressed my lips against his.

Suddenly, I felt his hot hardness pressing against my wet, aching pussy. I spread my legs and tilted my hips, allowing him easier access to claim my virginity.

A pillar of burning flame entered my maidenhead. I screamed and he roared. Oh my dear Mother Superior, Luke’s cock burned wonderfully inside my virgin pussy. He thrust it in roughly and deeply. He buried himself in my willing, holy hole.

I opened my eyes and gazed into him, my entire body aflame with carnal desire. His forehead was now adorned with two horns, about ten inches long. Sharp, twisted, and black as obsidian.

He pumped his burning hard cock into my body relentlessly. I screamed and grunted with pleasure beneath him, lips still locked on his. I asked him a question in my head.

“Luke … are you a demon?”

Vile, malevolent laughter filled my mind.

“Have you just now realized? You stupid Catholic cunt.”

He ceased kissing me and propped himself up on one muscular red arm. His hands had now become vicious claws. A narrow tail with an arrow-headed point danced behind him.

“They said demons were only metaphors for sinful temptation,” I thought, “Nobody said they were real!”

He laughed again, mocking me while defiling me. He squeezed my right breast in his left claw.

“Is that real enough for you, Sister Simone?”

The stinging, scratching pain only fueled my lust. I moaned in grateful pleasure, submitting to this sinful act of sexual congress with one of Satan’s army.

“Give yourself to me and I’ll show you pleasures far beyond those your Christ ever will.”

His tail wrapped around my throat three times and started constricting.

Seconds later, I was cumming beneath the demon I used to know as Luke. My nipples were hard as rocks, my pussy was convulsing around his thick, burning demon dick, my eyes were rolling in the back of my head, I squealed until my breath ran out. My body spasmed and shook on the rock-like bed.

At that moment, I gave myself fully to The Demon. When my orgasm subsided, I started thrusting my hips in rhythm with him. I squeezed his thick, unholy cock tightly with my defiled pussy. “Fuck me, Demon! Fuck me!” I screamed for all to hear.

He roared with triumph, grinning his evil shark-tooth grin. The candle flames flickered, then flared. He grew taller before my eyes, reaching over eight feet in height. The Demon’s cock also grew and grew inside me. It stretched my desecrated vagina with each thrust, peaking just before I felt like I would be split in two. The head slammed relentlessly into my cervix. My vision flashed white with pleasure-pain at the peak of each of our thrusts together.

“Fuck God! Fuck him!” I squealed, “Fuck Jesus Christ! Fuck Jesus, Mary and Joseph!”

I renounced their holy names while fucking the satanic beast.

“Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me!”

“Yes, Sister Simone!” the Demon bellowed, “Surrender to me! Surrender to sin! Surrender to Satan”

“Defile me! Ruin me! Fill me with your seed!” I begged him. I wanted nothing more than to be his unholy whore.

“Who is your Lord now?” he demanded.

“Lucifer!” I screamed.

And with that, he unleashed a torrent of his unholy seed into my fertile womb. The candles flared once again, lighting the windowless room brighter than the sun. It burned inside me as he filled me with gallons of demonic cum. I looked down and saw my belly expanding with each throb of his massive unholy cock.

When the Demon had finally emptied his balls, he withdrew his cock from my body, and that was the first time I saw the true size and shape of his manhood. Have you ever seen a horse’s penis, Mother Superior? They’re at least twelve inches long, as thick as your arm, with a wider, angled, flared tip. That is what the Demon’s penis looked like, only his is red with a deep crimson head. His two testicles were each bigger than my fist, and they hung low behind his massive cock. I assure you, the sight is breathtakingly beautiful.

His scalding cum flooded out of my ravaged womb as he pulled out with a grunt. Panting, I looked down at my naked body. My tits were covered in long, red scratches from his claws. My stomach was swollen with cum. A giant pool of demon semen spilled from me and onto the bed altar. I’d never felt sexier in my life. I looked up into the eyes of my unholy seducer.

“Baptize me,” I asked him.

He looked down at me, the fallen nun. The unholy slut he had created. He grinned maliciously.

“Baptize you?”

“That’s what you meant to do to me, isn’t it? When you spoke of ‘the ritual’?”

He laughed.

“Perhaps I underestimated you, Sister. Very well. Come, onto your knees before me.”

I obediently climbed down from the bed-altar and knelt in front of the Demon between his cloven-hoofed feet. I was vaguely aware of the feeling of his cum continuing to leak from my pussy.

He lifted his massive cock and held it in front of my face. His voice boomed in my head. \

“Do you renounce Jesus Christ, the Holy Spirit, the saints, and the Catholic church?”

I nodded.

“I do.”

“Do you renounce God and his heaven?”

I nodded again.

”I do.”

“Do you devote your eternal soul to Satan?”

Without hesitation, I responded …

“I do.”

“Then I baptize you, in the name of Lucifer.”

With a laugh, The Demon commenced urinating on me. It was the temperature of a shower that’s about five degrees too warm. The stream hit me with force, almost knocking me over. But I held strong and maintained my balance. I let the beast’s piss wash away my piety, my devotion to my former religion, my guilt, my shame. I opened my mouth and allowed his hot, amber piss to fill my mouth. It stank of rotten beer and tasted worse. I relished every part of his vile urine. I gulped it down thirstily, feeling it filling my throat and stomach with his unholy piss.

What I couldn’t swallow flowed over my naked, defiled body. I bathed in it. I rubbed it into my tits, my swollen belly, my soaked pubic hair, my arms and legs. I let him saturate my hair in his beautiful, disgusting piss, until my whole body was soaked.

Anointed in demon piss, I felt reborn. Dripping with the contents of his bladder, I looked up at him and smiled. I ripped the rosary from around my neck and threw it into the puddle of demon cum and piss on the floor between my knees. He looked on with approval.

I licked the tip of his cock, still savoring the bitter taste of his dark yellow urine. I stroked his shaft with both hands, resurrecting its hardness. I fellated his unholy horse cock as a display of loyalty to my new dark master.

He reached for something on the altar, then handed it down to me.

I held the golden, bejeweled crucifix dildo and immediately understood what he wished for me to do with it. I rubbed it in the cum-and-piss puddle, then slid it inside my stretched pussy, fucking myself while I sucked and licked the Demon’s cock.

This continued for a while until he grabbed my head in one massive claw and lifted me into the air. He twisted me around and roughly placed me onto the altar with head flat against the stone and my ass in the air. He pulled the crucifix dildo from my pussy and rubbed the tip against my asshole, then twisted it as he shoved it inside me. I howled with ecstasy as the cross spun into me, stretching my final untouched hole.

As he continued fucking my ass with the desecrated dildo, he positioned his monster cock against my pussy. I thrust my ass backward, impaling myself on his tool. I started fucking him, my body consumed with satanic lust.

He fucked my ass with the crucifix dildo and I fucked his cock with my insatiable cunt, both of us grunting like wild animals as our bodies collided over and over. I started rubbing my clit furiously. The flames danced around us. Sweat poured from my body. He wrapped his tail around my neck again and started squeezing. He scratched at my back – long claw marks that drew fine droplets of blood.

Screaming, I came hard. Drool flowed from my gaping mouth, my body convulsed on the black altar, my pussy tightened around The Demon’s cock, my ass squeezed the crucifix dildo. I saw stars.

My orgasm only fed The Demon’s burning lust. He roared with pleasure, wrapped a claw around my torso, and lifted my body from the altar. He stood up and started sliding my body up and down his cock, using me like a masturbation aid. I bobbed helplessly on his cock as his claws dug into my skin.

“Fuck me! Defile me! Destroy my cunt!” I screamed, “Pump me full of your seed, Demon!”

I started rubbing my clit again. He stuck the tip of his tail into my mouth. It was hard and scaly and tasted sour and I sucked it hungrily.

He continued using me as his cock-sleeve for another fifteen minutes before his voice boomed.

“Take my seed, demon-whore!”

Then he came inside me again. Scalding, steaming cum erupted from his massive, beastly cock. It flowed into my pussy and my womb, filling me once again and inflating my stomach until I looked seven months pregnant.

“Yes! Yes! I’m yours! Fill my unholy cunt with your demon sperm!” I cried as another orgasm washed over me, robbing me of rational thought.

The Demon continued fucking me throughout his climax, squeezing my throat ever tighter as we came together. When we were done, he removed me from my perch at the end of his monstrous cock and threw me down again onto the altar.

Breathless, ravaged, defiled, defeated, and filled with unholy glee. I lay there, half-conscious, soaked in demon piss and leaking demon cum, my ass full of a dildo in the shape of the crucifix. The creature I used to know as Luke completed the ritual. He placed some of the flaming candles around me on the altar in the shape of a pentagram. He dipped his thumb claw in his semen and drew an inverted cross on my forehead and another pentagram on my cum-swollen stomach. They lit with flame that burned without hurting. He then spoke a prayer in a language that hurt my ears and clouded my vision. At that point, I finally passed out.

I awoke two days later, encrusted with filth. I looked around. I was still on his altar. The candles had all melted. I peeled myself off the altar and stood up. The crucifix dildo fell to the floor with a clang.

My body still aching, I stumbled into The Demon’s empty apartment. I was expecting to find it looked nothing like I remembered it — like the expensive decor was all just part of the Demon’s spell. But it was exactly as large and expensive as I recalled. I caught a glimpse of myself in the reflection of his windows. Not believing what my eyes were telling me, I quickly found his bathroom and switched on the light. I stared into the mirror, which confirmed what my ghostly reflection had shown.

Gone was my blond hair — it is now black as ink. My fair skin has turned so white as to be almost translucent. My green eyes remain, but the pupils are now bright red. My belly had deflated, and my scratches were mostly healed. My tits have grown a cup size, now a generous C cup. My pubic hair has now darkened, matching my new hair color. No horns, no tail, no shark teeth. I grinned into the mirror. If this is what it meant to be a demon’s whore, I would’ve signed up long ago.

Just then, his voice boomed into my head.

“Good, you’ve awakened. Quickly shower and get dressed. You’ll find new attire in the bedroom.”

“Yes, my love.”

As I showered, he informed me of the next part of the plan.

First, I was to write this letter. I’ve had to stop masturbating so many times, it’s taken me all day. I hope reading of my exploits with the Demon has awakened something in your loins, Mother Superior.

As for the second part of my demonic husband’s plan, he has requested I meet with Sister Wendy and Sister Amy after they attend the soup kitchen tomorrow afternoon. I imagine that by the time you receive this letter, Amy and Wendy will be part of our church, newly baptized as demon-whores. If not? There’s plenty of room in Hell.

Please accept my apologies if I worried you all with my disappearance … and the imminent disappearance of Amy and Wendy. I ask that you do not pray for me or my soul. I’m very happy living in sin as one of my unholy husband’s whore-brides.

I’ve always preferred the heat, anyway.

Yours in sin, Demon-whore Simone