DISCLAIMER: The following is fiction. The content of the story is not representative of the writer’s beliefs, opinions, or attitudes. This story is intended for adult entertainment only. The characters and events depicted in this work are fictional. The author does not condone or promote any unlawful activity such as is depicted in the story. By continuing to read this work you acknowledge that you are an adult who wishes to read works of fantasy and fiction for the purpose only of fantasy. All the characters in this story are adults. They may play different ages for the fictional character that they are depicting but they remain at all times adults. All Rights Reserved © 2024 LITTLESALLY666.

STORY CODES: LGBT themes, Incest, Young Ones, Coercion, Corruption, Demons, Supernatural, Evil themes.

CREATED: 01.02.2024

DEDICATION: Specially written for my new friend, Little Nicky. I hope you enjoy it as much as the first.

Sine Nefas 2 (Nothing Without Sin 2)


Returning to the sordid world of the Fosters, of Nina, Sara, and Susan, we find Nina’s school teacher, Miss Mandy, caught up in both a dilemma of faith and desire. As she struggles to come to terms with her demons, she finds young Nina ignites a passion that drives her to the edge of sexual insanity. In the meanwhile, Father Dominic, seeks to clear his name but finds he’s out of his depth.


  • Nina (10) – Sara’s real daughter / Susan’s adopted daughter
  • Mandy Seah / Miss Mandy (26) – unusual school teacher from the village school
  • Father Dominic (30) – the new local priest framed by the Sisterhood
  • Sister Juliana (45) – administrator and nun from St. Mary’s Orphanage
  • Sister Joanna (21) – a novice nun (not yet taken her vows) from St. Mary’s Orphanage
  • Bishop Andre (55) – a corrupt church official and follower of Satan
  • Susan Foster (36) – Identical twin to Sara, mother to Sally and Steven, wife to David
  • Sara (36) – Identical twin to Susan, mother to Nina


“The scariest monsters are the ones that lurk within our souls.” Edgar Allen Poe 

Nina Foster was ten years old. She’d been adopted by Susan and David Foster for only a short while, but her influence over the attractive couple and their two young children, Steven aged twelve, and Sally aged just eight, had been profound. You see, her true birth mother had been Susan’s identical twin, Sara. Outwardly, the twins had appeared to be opposites. One devout. The other a harlot. It had been Nina who had brought them all together in an inferno of incestuous passion that had been a powder cake waiting to explode.

But as life’s little routine settled in and Nina attended the small village school, her wayward passions, simmered to seduce and manipulate others, in the way that she’d been taught at the St. Mary’s Orphanage — an unholy place of devil worship and pedophilia.

This is where we find our story begins. Nina’s art teacher, Mandy Seah or Miss Mandy as all the kids knew her, had taken a “special interest” in little Nina. And little Nina had taken a “special interest” in her teacher. Miss Mandy was outwardly, a religious person, in her mid-twenties. She wasn’t exactly your run-of-the-mill teacher but she kept her secrets to herself.

“Good morning,” said Miss Mandy to her art class.

“Good morning, Miss Mandy,” the class replied.

Nina, though only ten, was by far the most gifted of the students in the class. She had a practiced skill at drawing her ideas in a very realistic way. She enjoyed it. And she could tell that Miss Mandy was enthralled by this. The teacher had encouraged her to explore her imagination.

Of course, Miss Mandy had no idea that Nina’s thoughts and fantasies were not that of normal children. Yes, she drew pictures of imaginary creatures, people, landscapes, and even self-portraits … but her fantasies encompassed an unhealthy interest in sexual perversion and devil worship. What she liked to sketch were images that were profane, blasphemous, and depraved. She’d shared these with her mother, who had encouraged her to explore this side of her sexual psyche, knowing that it would only deepen and sharpen her daughter’s hunger for incestuous depravity.

As her teacher made her way around the class of twenty or so children, it seemed to Nina, that she was making a bee-line towards her. She hovered around her. Drawn to her. She seemed to frequently look at her (thinking that Nina wasn’t aware of her observations). Nina secretly enjoyed it. It was like a game of “Cat and Mouse” … But who was the hunter and who was the hunted?

She knew the way her teacher stared at her wasn’t normal — after an upbringing in such a toxic environment where the nuns of St. Mary’s regularly abused the orphan children, sexually. Miss Mandy may have not even been aware of her sexual attraction to her student. She had many issues of her own. Maybe she had buried such wicked thoughts in her religiosity. But Nina knew they were there and couldn’t help but play up to them.

”Miss, can you help me?” asked Nina, knowing full well that she would get the immediate attention of her teacher, “I cannot do my laces properly.”

Her teacher smiled. No doubt the opportunity to touch her small bare feet … caress her toes … linger to take in Nina’s distinctive aroma. Nina’s sexual pheromones would be tantalizing. And they were. It felt like the moment lasted for a long time. The world stopped — it was just Nina and Mandy.


Father Dominic had nowhere to run. Disgraced by Sister Juliana and Sister Joanna of St. Mary’s Orphanage, he set out to try and clear his name. But how? He’d been accused of molestation of an under-aged girl — while it had been the girl in question, Louise, that had instigated it — he didn’t understand what he’d gotten into, but these events were neither isolated nor random. Something was happening at the orphanage. This was how he would clear his name. He was no pedophile. Had God deserted him? Why didn’t God intervene? This was the work of Satan. He’d been suspicious of the orphanage previously, but now he was sure that this was the key.

The plan was simple. He needed some kind of evidence, in whatever form, he could find, and return to the bishop. He would understand that Father Dominic had acted without malice. His intentions were purely to serve God, the church, and humanity.

Returning to the orphanage at sunset, he could move and not be observed. There were signs of activity in the chapel. Maybe this would be the place to begin. Maybe he would get a glimpse of whatever was going on. He would get only one chance — so he had to be careful.


Miss Mandy collected up the assortment of crayons and paints from the empty decks of her art class. It was Friday. The bell had rung and she’d dismissed her students for the day. It was already getting dark at four o’clock — winter was like that in the village. She loved teaching art. She was new to the school but enjoyed being part of the local community. It was her opportunity to start afresh. Her students were a mixed bag, some attentive, some not so, and as the school was very small, she found the mixed age groups could be a challenge. Village life was very different from her last teaching job in one of the big city comprehensive schools — so many students — so many rules and regulations. To many obstacles. Here it was a lot simpler.

She’d recently acquired a new student. Though she was new herself. Her name was Nina. An adopted child of a family she knew as the Fosters. Nina was a talented art student and had quickly caught her eye. Her sweetness and politeness aside, there was something a little unnerving about her — it was as if she knew far too much for a young girl of ten — something that Miss Mandy expected from the older kids in her group. Regardless, Miss Mandy couldn’t help but have a fondness for the young child. Like a kindred spirit, maybe?

Life was always full of little surprises and tonight she turned to see Nina standing by her door. Nina, like the other students, was dressed in her school uniform of a collared white shirt, plaid skirt (in the school’s distinctive red and green), and her white Bobby socks and black shoes. Her long black hair was tied in two ponytails. Across her shoulder, she carried her leather school bag.

“Miss, sorry to disturb you, but my mummy is running late. Is it okay that I wait here, as it’s getting very cold and dark outside?”

“Of course, Nina,” replied her teacher, “Why don’t you take a seat? I’m just clearing up.”

Miss Mandy didn’t give the situation a second thought as she continued to reorganize her classroom for the next week. She would have to leave soon, but she couldn’t leave Nina on her own on school grounds. The students were still her priority. Miss Mandy didn’t have a family to go home to, but she had a dog to feed and walk tonight. But, that could all wait for now.

Nina had taken a seat and had pulled out her sketchbook. Miss Mandy had noticed her doodling in this sketchbook before but hadn’t asked her about it. An artist herself, she’d encouraged her students to develop a passion for drawing and sketching. Most of the others just did it, because it was project-based. Nina seemed more engaged. More dedicated. More engrossed in her activities. Such a pretty young girl, Miss Mandy thought.

Just at that moment, there was the sound of a car honking. It must be Nina’s parents, thought Miss Mandy. Sure enough, it was.

“Thanks, Miss, got to go,” said Nina politely.

“I’ll walk you out,” she answered.

Miss Mandy held Nina’s hand and walked her down the corridor and out into the courtyard, in front of the school, where the children were dropped off and picked up by their parents. There was a familiar SUV waiting. Miss Mandy opened the door for little Nina, who then jumped into the back seat.

”Thanks for waiting with her,” said Nina’s mother, Susan Foster, from the front window, “I hope it wasn’t an imposition, we were caught up with an errand. Won’t happen again!”

Miss Mandy thought Susan was attractive woman. She smiled, invitingly.

“It’s okay,” replied Miss Mandy, “It happens sometimes. Your daughter is very talented.”

“Thank you. She loves your classes very much … Sorry … Got to run.”

Miss Mandy watched the SUV pull off the curb and disappear around the corner.


Sister Juliana and Sister Joanna gathered a small congregation in the chapel. They’d had a surprise visitation by Bishop Andre. The fifty-five-year-old bishop, who looked much older than his years, wasn’t against the malevolence that was so prevalent in the orphanage. He was a staunch supporter of their unholy agenda. A most unattractive man with a cock as thick as a Coke can, he was like many in the upper echelons of the Catholic Church. The bishop’s beliefs no longer followed that of the Abrahamic God. Satan was his God. Lust was his religion. Perverted and depraved sex was his only doctrine.

“Blessed Satan. O Satan, most depraved. We call upon your demons to bring evil and wickedness to our hearts and loins,” prayer Sister Juliana, in mockery of their Christian liturgy, “O God of Perversion, bestow upon your faithful servants, your gifts of abuse and molestation — that we may serve you on Earth, as it is in Hell.”

The Sisters had been an integral part of his bishop’s supply chain. Orphans disappeared regularly — the bishop being one of many who enjoyed their pain and suffering before death. His preference was for young boys of eight or nine, but that didn’t mean that a young virgin girl wouldn’t be a delight, now and then. And the Sisters at St. Mary’s were always so obliging as they relied upon the bishop’s generous donations for their upkeep.

“Blessed Sisters,” replied the drooling bishop, “By Satan’s decree, bring forth, that which my loins most desires. Let their misery, torment, and woe, bring joy to our Dark Lord. O Satan, let my penis be your instrument — to penetrate their bowels in unholy sodomy as our Sacrament of Sin. O Satan. Hear our prayer!”

The small congregation gathered after sundown in the holy chapel. It was the desecration that made it all the more purposeful in the service of Satan. Two young boys, both semi-naked and aroused, danced effeminately before the naked bishop, who sat upon a special throne that had an opening beneath the seat. A third young boy lay immediately below the ugly, fat bishop, his young lips, tongue, and mouth worked hard to appease the bishop, who enjoyed analingus as a starter.


Nina had climbed into the back seat with her birth mother, Sara, as Susan pulled away from the curb to drive them towards their home. Nina kissed Sara tenderly on the lips. Sara drove her ever-eager tongue into her mouth as their kiss became much more animated. Sara’s hand slipped up her daughter’s creamy white thigh and was rewarded by instant access to her knickerless wet cunt.

“Did you do the little deed, as we talked?” asked Sara.

“Yes Mommy,” she called them both Mommy., “My teacher is so hot.”

”Et erue nos in tentationem, nos ad mala fortis tenebris, O Satan (Deliver us unto temptation, bring us unto wicked darkness, oh mighty Satan),” replied Sara pressing her daughter’s head downwards between her open legs.

Life had never been the same since Susan and her estranged slut sister, Sara, had rediscovered their secret incestuous passions. They had been taboo lovers from a very young age.

But life had taken them both in very different directions. Susan had suppressed her incestuous memories, forgetting that it had been her that had instigated it in the first place. Up until only recently, she’d lived the life of a devoted Christian mother and wife.

Sara had been her polar opposite. A complete slut. A filthy pervert. And a prolific pedophile. She’d become very wealthy from her unsavory and illegal activities. It was Nina, her daughter who had brought the two identical twins back together. She was reigniting their depraved lusts for each other and their love of young flesh. Of course, this had now boiled over to include Susan’s children — Sally, aged eight, and Steven, aged twelve — Susan had also discovered her husband’s joy in such unnatural acts, sharing his perverted cock with her sister-lover.

Now they all lived together. Life was … “Nothing without sin.”


Miss Mandy returned to her darkened classroom to finish her chores before leaving for the day.

As she stepped inside, she noticed Nina’s sketchbook on the table. The young girl must have jumped up at the sound of her mother’s car and had forgotten to put it back in her school satchel. She picked it up and brought it to her desk for safekeeping. She’d return it to Nina the next week.

For some reason, she opened the first page of Nina’s sketchbook. There were some drawings of people, animals, landscapes, and even an image of her. It was very flattering. So childish, but so sweet. She’d drawn her teacher dressed in a simple black tunic with her hair up. Miss Mandy wasn’t very tall and her strongly Asian features made her look very distinctive. Nina had captured a really good likeness for a young, ten-year-old artist. It only reaffirmed her belief in Nina’s natural ability to express herself.

Usually, sketchbooks were like creative diaries and were treated as private, but curiosity got the better of her teacher, and she turned the page. Another beautiful drawing. Still very childish, but very obviously a self-portrait of little Nina. She was dressed for school, with her white collared shirt and red and green plaid skirt. The drawing made Nina’s youthful body look so small and vulnerable.

Miss Mandy turned another page. It was Nina again, but disturbingly, she’d drawn herself without any clothing on. Naked. Her eyes looked as if they were closed and her mouth was open. Maybe that wasn’t the disturbing part, as it looked as if she’d drawn herself, masturbating with a crucifix — obscenely plunging the inverted Jesus up her stretched vagina lips. Not only that but the image was surrounded by images and symbols of devil worship. The inverted cross. The phallus of the Baphomet. The five-pointed pentagram. The number of the beast, “666.”

Miss Mandy had become a deeply religious person. She was a regular churchgoer. She’d tried to put her sinful thoughts behind her. She was trying to be a better person.

Just looking at Nina’s obscene drawing, had made her flush with the strangest of feelings. It felt like fear, guilt, and intrigue all mixed up. A strange reaction to such a blasphemous drawing. Her hands were visibly shaking. She wasn’t sure what to make of it. Maybe she misunderstood the meaning of all these blasphemous things (as she was still so young) — but somehow she doubted it. Nina was such a very smart and talented girl.

She didn’t want to see it anymore. She snapped the pages of the sketchbook shut. She couldn’t leave it in the school. It was such a toxic thing to behold. She would have to talk to Nina about this problem.



“Chastity is the most unnatural of the sexual perversions.” ― Remy de Gourmont

Nina’s life had changed little from the orphanage to the home of the Fosters, as both were havens to ungodly things. The nuns at St. Mary’s Orphanage had been openly abusive. Some of the other children had been unwilling to participate in their sexual gratifications and constant rape rituals, but Nina had not been one of those children. Her mother had instigated many activities with her from a very early age. And she was more than a willing participant.

There had been Sister Juliana. She’d been the key instigator of all the evil at the dark orphanage. The nun had even been involved in bringing Nina’s twin sisters back together again. Some of her earliest memories were of her birth mother and Sister Juliana sharing Nina’s tender young body in rituals that celebrated the worship of their god — a god that they called Satan.

Nina seemed always to be looking out for her next conquest. Her next encounter. She was prolific. A hypersexual in the body of a ten-year-old child. She knew her kind. She knew pedophiles. She knew how to seduce other young children — and when she wasn’t fucking, she was thinking about fucking. “The apple doesn’t fall from the tree” as both her mothers would say.


Father Dominic found purchase as he climbed into a position that looked into the holy chapel. The lighting inside the chapel was dull, but he could see that there was a gathering of adults and children. Disturbingly, they were all naked. This was not a ritual that he was familiar with — there was something nefarious about it. He immediately recognized the faces of both Sisters Juliana and Joanna — his so-called accusers — and a third figure that was seated and shrouded in shadow. The chapel windows seemed to create blind spots that obstructed his complete view.

The nuns still wore their wimples and head coverings, but below that, both were naked. Sister Juliana was the older of the two, her breasts were large and her nipples pierced. Sister Joanna, was much younger, still a novice nun, not yet taken her vows. Both had inverted crosses hanging around their necks.

The third adult figure appeared to be seated on a throne. His identity was obscured from view. All Father Dominic could gather, was that the elderly man was naked. There was a young boy seated upon his lap … the young seemed to be struggling unsuccessfully as the older man gripped him tight and sodomized him.

Father Dominic used his mobile phone and tried to take as many pictures as he could. They wouldn’t be crystal clear, but he hoped that they would provide the evidence he would need to incriminate the Sisterhood at St. Mary’s and in doing so, clear his name.


Miss Mandy had thought of little else since the discovery of Nina’s evil drawing.

She’d taken the foul sketchbook home so that it wouldn’t be left on school premises. She wasn’t sure what influenced the young girl to draw such obscene things. She would have to get to the bottom of this. She’d have to have words with her mother. Maybe if the headmaster found out it would lead to Nina being expelled. She didn’t want that. She was sure that needed professional help of some kind as the young girl was very troubled. But then again, maybe — with the influence of all the pornography that was available on the internet these days — it was something she’d seen and just translated in some bizarre way. Pornography, she thought, was the devil’s playground.

Miss Mandy took her dog, Blake, for a walk. The night had gotten even colder and darker and she was keen to get back home for some much-needed rest. It had been a very long week. For some reason, Blake seemed very frisky tonight, pulling on the lead and barking uncharacteristically. What had gotten into him? She’d returned home to her small cottage and got the fire going. Miss Mandy had almost forgotten about the sketchbook for a while. She changed into one of her comfortable white slips and made a warming cup of hot chocolate.

Then, she remembered Nina’s drawing and recalled how strange she’d felt looking at it. Disgust or delight? Maybe it was an isolated incident? She picked up her school bag and retrieved the offending article. She even handled it as if it was a toxic substance.

She searched for the offensive page in Nina’s sketchbook. The masturbating child page. The blasphemous page. The devil worshiping page. Instead of finding what she’d looked at before, she found another drawing instead.

This one depicted her.

Nina had drawn herself and Miss Mandy together — scissoring — their naked bodies meshed together. Adult and child, in front of an audience of other naked adults and other naked children. The placement of their fingers and the erect nature of the depicted males left nothing to the imagination. A voyeuristic crowd, a satanic black mass, all masturbating, as they watched Nina and her teacher fuck each other on a desecrated altar — before an evil phallic idol — the twin-sex Baphomet. It struck a chord. Breasts and cock. A hard, thick erection rising upwards from between the demon’s thighs.

This was beyond obscene, but still, Miss Mandy couldn’t tear her eyes away. She noticed how she was shaking again. She was revolted at her own unstoppable curiosity.

She turned the page and this time there was a drawing of herself with a flesh-toned strap-less dildo — or was it a penal clitoris? It appeared as if Nina had drawn her with a penis … a huge cock-like thing pressed inside Nina’s anus. Sodomy — the devil’s intercourse. A shemale succubus. Their audience looked similarly adorned with cocks and breasts. Transgendered. It was the prelude to some kind of perverted orgy, overseen by dark sexual demons. Its explicitness had made Miss Mandy swear. Her heart was racing and she felt out of breath.

Enough, she thought.

She threw the sketchbook aside. What was she thinking? This went beyond any childishness. It was simply diabolical. Evil and twisted. But even as she chastised, the warmth of the room had made her fall asleep in her favorite armchair in front of the dancing flames of the fireplace.


Nina knelt before the idol of the Baphomet, twin-sex god, and prayed. The transgendered demon. Her small little cunt was oily and itchy. Pressing her fingers to her pussy and anus, she imagined they were Miss Mandy’s. She pictured the attractive Asian teacher quaking at the sight of her naked student masturbating herself and praying to the devil.

She smiled to herself knowing that right now, her teacher, Miss Mandy, would be suffering ,,, torturing herself … so much self-censoring, so much resistance … so much self-denial to her secret proclivities.

She’d thanked the devil for giving her many talents — real or not — she closed her eyes and imagined her school teacher. In her mind’s eye, she saw her, praying to Jesus. Praying for forgiveness. Praying for help with her wayward thoughts. She saw her in the confessional. In the darkened booth, Miss Mandy sat and stared forward into the lattice that divided her side from that of the dark shadow of her priest.

“Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned,” she said in a mousy voice with her Asian accent.

She made the sign of the cross.

“Confess your sins …” replied a deep, raspy voice from the other side of the partition.

Miss Mandy didn’t recognize the priest’s voice. It didn’t sound like Father Dominic.

“Well …”

“Father, I fear I have fallen. Not in body but in spirit. I have dreams. Terrible dreams. I am so ashamed … but …”

“… but you are aroused by them,” answered the dark voice, “While you know they are wrong and wicked, they still excite you … they make you wet and you find that you cannot refrain from touching yourself … the sins of Satan tempt you … and you find it difficult to refuse!”

He’d taken the words out of her mouth. They weren’t the words she’d intended to use. But they were exactly her thoughts.

“… Father … I am so ashamed … what such I do?” Miss Mandy stumbled to respond.

“Ashamed … are you? I think you lie to yourself … I can smell your arousal even now, you filthy whore …”


The flames of the fire burned fiercely — almost too hot and toasty. Miss Mandy’s mind stirred. Her eyes rolled left and right beneath her heavy eyelids as her sweet little dreams began to turn to darkish nightmares. There in her nightmare, a vision of Nina’s drawing began to materialize. The image of Nina masturbating with a crucifix. A foul image. The image of her and Nina scissoring. Ritual sodomy. The twin-sex goddess of depravity. Demons with both breasts and erect phalluses. Urine, drunk as sacrament. A satanic black mass. Adults and children. A pedophile orgy.

Some images didn’t make sense. She saw two older women — identical in their appearance. They kind of looked like Nina’s mother. Like she was mirrored but she wasn’t. Same face, and bodies, and both were completely naked. Their bodies glistened in the firelight — sexual perspiration.

They kissed like lovers. Their fist-sized breasts touching. Their hard pointed nipples pressed together. They rubbed their excited genitals against each other’s upper thighs. As they both turned towards Miss Mandy, she saw that instead of vaginas, both were transgendered. They both stroked their erect cocks that dripped with strings precum from the eyes of their engorged cock-heads.

”Et erue nos in tentationem, nos ad mala fortis tenebris, O Satan,” They both prayed.

Miss Mandy turned to look away, but not without first, feeling a burst of unexpected sensual arousal. She’d thought that she’d overcome these unholy bisexual desires of her tender years. God Almighty had supposedly shown her the way. She’d abstained from any form of sexual stimulation. Maybe that’s why the drawings of juvenile masturbation had impacted her so negatively. Her body simmered in her unwanted excitement.

“Miss Mandy.”

She recognized the deceivingly innocent voice immediately. It was her wayward ten-year-old student, Nina.

”Don’t be afraid,” said Nina, “Let me show you my wet, horny cunt.”

Miss Mandy looked at her in shock. The girl was dressed in her school uniform with a pair of little devil horns upon her head. A little devil indeed. Her white shirt was fully open and her dark little nipples stood out against her completely flat chest. Nina moved towards her, almost dancing to some strange pagan beat, thrusting slowly back and forth. She quickly whipped off her short plaid skirt to expose her naked little cunt to her teacher.

Miss Mandy’s legs seemed to give way. As she slowly crumbled to her knees on the warm animal-skin rug. It was then that she realized her nakedness. Exposed. She tried to cover herself. Hide her genitals. Ashamed of herself and her obvious sexual arousal.

”Tasa reme laris, O Satan – Ave Satanas.”

Devil Nina moved closer and closer still until she stood only inches away.

“The devil’s work makes my cunt so juicy — don’t I make you horny, just looking at me?” asked naughty Devil Nina, “Miss Mandy. O Satan wants you to lick me. Mmmmm … Yes, Miss Mandy … Mommy says that you’re a good cunt-licker. Eat my baby cunt. O Satan wants you to taste my cum and piss. Smell my brown flower. Give me the ‘Black kiss’ …” said Devil Nina as she thrust her naughty little fingers into her wet hole, “Come on, I’ve seen you looking at me, that way, in class. You’ve thought about it, my pervert teacher, more than just once or twice. You’re just like my mother and her twin sister. They’re both incestuous perverts. They’re all pedophiles. You like to prey on vulnerable young girls and boys. Don’t you? O Satan … It’s the only way you can get off — isn’t it?”

The voice was of a young child, but her blasphemous words were that of a sex demon.


Miss Mandy woke suddenly from her lucid dreaming. Maybe, it had been more of a nightmare. It had been soiled with evil, lustful, and sinful things. The vision of little Devil Nina masturbating was still fresh in her mind. Outside, it was still very dark but her fireplace was still burning brightly. She remembered everything so vividly. Every detail. The erotic smell of her childish vagina. The sweet essence of her brown flower. It all seemed to have happened in a blink of an eye. She’s awoken feeling alive and very horny. O Satan. What dark magick is at work? She thought.

First, she removed her soaked nightgown … giving in to the undeniable urge to be completely naked … to masturbate.

Miss Mandy slipped her nighty over her head and threw it aside. She looked at herself in the full-length dressing mirror. Her skin looked so reddish in the light of the fireplace — a devilish red. Her chest was almost completely flat. Her soft little Asian mounds were crested by hardened nipples. She touched them. Stabs of self-pleasure rippled through her nubile body.

Next, she needed to see Nina’s perverted sketchbook.

She opened the page to an image of Devil Nina fucking her adopted father. His cock was thick, hard, and buried deep in her tiny cuntlet. Incest. It looked obscene. Devil Nina, just like in her dream, wore black pointed horns upon her head. Her cute little face was made up with black lipstick and dark eye-shadow that looked very adult.

Finally, she was overwhelmed with the desire to rub herself as her mind was consumed with lust.

She gingerly touched herself. She slipped two fingers effortlessly into her oily anus. It felt incredible. She turned the page in Nina’s sketchbook to an image of Nina fucking a large dog. Nina’s picture was drawn at such an angle that you could see her expression of ecstasy, as well as, the dog’s knot buried deep in her cunt-hole. The dog strangely looked a lot like Blade. It was again, very shocking, but made Miss Mandy slip a third finger inside her ripe anus as she buggered herself faster and faster.

“O Satan,” she whispered daringly.

She immediately exploded. Her body shook uncontrollably. She squirted copious cum, over the sketchbook, as her entire body shook violently.



“Cruelty is simply the energy in a man, that civilization has not yet altogether corrupted — therefore it is a virtue, not a vice.” — Marquis de Sade.

“Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned,” said Miss Mandy.

It had been a while since her last confession. Her disturbing dreams and even more bazaar behavior were driving her insane. She figured that Father Dominic would know what to do. She made the sign of the cross.

“Confess your sins …” replied a deeper and much more raspy voice from the darkened interior behind the partition.

It was a dark and fearful voice. She’d heard it before but she couldn’t remember where. It wasn’t the reassuring sound of Father Dominic. No, this was a deep vibrato sound that seemed to solicit the gravest of her moral sins.

“Father, I fear that I have fallen. Not just in body but in spirit too. I have terrible dreams that I am so ashamed of …”

“Tell me exactly what you are ashamed of?”

Miss Mandy swallowed hard as it sounded more like a command.

“I dream of molestation. Of … sexual abuse. Of the deeds of sex demons. Of many blasphemous and depraved things …”

“And tell me — do you do them — of your own free will?” It sounded a reasonable question but Miss Mandy struggled to admit her willingness to commit these atrocities … even though they were just dreams. “Let me put it another way then. Do you masturbate yourself and offer orgasm to my name?”

A sudden dread gripped her, so tightly. It was as if the dark voice could see into her very soul.

“Who … who … who are you?”

“Don’t be so coy, Mandy. You know exactly who I am. I’m the one that brings you these delicious dreams.”


Monday came around quicker than she expected. Nina knew something was about to happen. Some naughty and wicked — she couldn’t wait. The school bell rang. Nina entered the classroom. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, only that upon her teacher’s deck she spied her special sketchbook. Maybe, Miss Mandy hadn’t looked at it yet? No, surely her curiosity would have gotten the better of her? Nina was positive that the temptation would have been far too strong for her wayward teacher. The devil would have made work for her teacher’s idol hand (or fingers)? But then again, maybe she had been just too busy to notice. Damn.

“Good morning,” said Miss Mandy.

”Good morning, Miss Mandy,” chimed her classmates.

The day began. Miss Mandy said nothing specific. Did nothing specific. Then out of the blue, Miss Mandy, who appeared unhappy, rapped her knuckles on Nina’s desk.

“Nina,” she said forcefully and completely out of character, “I am not sure where your mind is today — but I am not happy with your efforts — you will need to see me, after class.”

Nina’s fellow students looked a little shocked but relieved that it was not them that their teacher had pounced upon. Nina had always been such a model student. But nobody wanted to be the subject of their teacher’s wrath.

The bell rang and the class quickly emptied.

“I have had alerted admin to contact your parents, Nina, as you’ll be late tonight. I have told them that I will drop you back home after your detention. I may need to have words with your mother and father, as well.”

Miss Mandy locked the classroom door and drew down the little blind that covered the window in the classroom door. Nina looked meekly at Miss Mandy, but secretly she felt excited by her teacher’s sudden assertiveness. Her little cuntlet began instantly wet. Her oily juices rang down the inside of her legs. She’d deliberately reframed from wearing any underwear in the hope that her filthy little sketchbook could have infected her teacher.

Nina was beginning to believe that it had.


Father Dominic stayed in the deepest of shadows. After witnessing, first hand, the blasphemous acts at St. Mary’s Orphanage, his hope of redemption had lifted his spirit, but he needed to show it to Bishop Andre, as he oversaw the local activities and reported to the church authorities. He was wise and would know what to do. He would see what Father Dominic had seen. The photos and video were very explicit. They incriminated both of the sisters. It had been a shame that the third accomplice had remained unseen. It was a pedophile nest. But the objective was to clear his name and then the might of the bishop’s authority would come down on the perverts and sinners of St. Mary’s. Thanks to Almighty God, he thought.

He would need to reach out to the bishop without drawing attention to himself. He was still like a wanted man. Father Dominic was determined to put things right. He knew that the bishop took private prayer on Sunday evening at the convent chapel in Eastbrook — a small village not far from his parish — there wouldn’t be any official entourage, just the bishop and a few cloistered nuns. This would be his opportunity to present the bishop with his version of the story.


After the last student left, Miss Mandy closed the classroom door, and locked it from the inside. She pulled down the little blind that conveniently covered the only visual access into the classroom. With the rest of the class dismissed it was only little Devil Nina and herself. She’d openly scolded her most favored student in front of the other students — to create a reason to hold her back after class. And under the pretense of punishment in detention she had her all to herself. She’d even gotten the school admin to call Nina’s parents to inform them that she would be held back after class for detention and that her teacher would make sure that she got back safely.

”Nina,” said Miss Mandy, “I am very disturbed by what I have seen in your sketchbook.”

She looked at Nina sitting alone on her chair facing the blackboard. She appeared as if she was about to burst into tears. But of course, Miss Mandy knew these would be just crocodile tears. It was such an act, Miss Mandy thought. Nina was such a clever girl — and now, a great actress too.

She saw through the girl’s ploy.

“You’re a very talented student. You know I think highly of your skill and imagination.”

Miss Mandy retrieved the sketchbook from her desk and passed it to Nina. She’d marked the page. It made her groin throb and quiver. The girl was obviously perverted — but so young and tender — it made Miss Mandy want her even more.

“I want to know why. Why the drawings of me?” asked Miss Mandy.

“Because you’re not who you say you are, Miss …”

“Not who I say I am? I don’t understand.”

“Yes you do. You pretend. You lie to yourself,” replied Nina as she played with the end of her plaid skirt up her ten-year-old thighs, “You think Jesus loves you? Do you think he has a place for you in heaven? Is that what you want? A harp, wings, and a cloud?”

Miss Mandy laughed out loud. It was a deep laughter that no longer sounded feminine.

”Open the sketchbook,” ordered Miss Mandy.

Miss Mandy felt a familiar throbbing between her thighs. She saw Nina look down at the book that rested on her lap. The young girl had just assumed it was her sketchbook. But on a second glance, Nina would see that it looked different. Thicker. Heavier. She opened it to a pre-marked page.

To Nina’s complete surprise, it was a drawing of herself and Miss Mandy together. But, it wasn’t drawn as crudely as Nina’s childish sketches — it was far more realistic, detailed, and drawn by the hand of a true artist — the foul image was one of Miss Mandy standing naked as she fucked Nina’s brown flower with her small Asian cock. The drawing showed the expression on Nina’s face to be one of complete ecstasy … her mouth was open in orgasmic bliss!

Fuck, it was hot watching her young student becoming enlightened to Miss Mandy’s secret desires.

Like in Nina’s sketches, it was set in a dungeon-like setting while other naked children, all danced around them … all watching … all masturbating … all at the point of orgasm! Evil, dark, blasphemous.

“You … you … you drew this?” Nina stuttered in disbelief.

Miss Mandy watched her student turn the page. And another. And another.

There were more similar drawings. Images of her teacher. Not as a woman — but as a shemale demon with a thick, throbbing cock. Rape. Sodomy. Cock sucking. Piss-sex. They were images of her beloved teacher ejaculating over herself. Urinating over herself. A cock demon. Drawing of her teacher fucking both young boys and girls. They appeared disgusting, depraved, and pedophilic — much more perverted than Nina’s — even more twisted and debauched. The heavy sketchbook was full of them! Nina’s hand had snaked beneath her school skirt.

Miss Mandy’s erection stood upright. Proud. She rubbed herself in front of her protege. No longer a secret … as she watched her student getting off looking at these vile and demonic drawings — Nina seemed to be unable to help herself — as Miss Mandy watched her plunging her childish fingers into her ripe cuntlet.

“Fuck yer!” little Nina groaned.

As Nina looked up, she saw the elegant fingers of Miss Mandy’s fist, close around her throbbing cock-flesh, as she began to masturbate furiously. Nina saw for the first time her teacher’s true gender. Miss Mandy’s cock head was reddishly inflamed, like a swollen mushroom, and greasy with her copious precum juices.

”See, young one. We’re both children of Satan,” groaned Miss Mandy, “Now I need you to suck my devil-stick, you cock-teasing, little whore!”


The Bishop Andre was a very private man. He rarely made any public appearances. And to get an audience with him was virtually impossible. He liked it that way. His love of perverted fetishes and his devotion to Satan, were most closely guarded, except between himself, and those within the church hierarchy who, like him, were dedicated to evil. He was the one who organized their clandestine rituals using the children from a nearby orphanage. There were such delights in such depravity.

He had recently visited St. Mary’s Orphanage. It was one of the bishop’s favored institutions, which was run by pervert nuns who were more than sympathetic to his causes — and in reciprocation — he made sure that they had ample financial support to maintain their unholy activities. More than once, they had called upon him, to cover up unfortunate incidents that could have possibly exposed them, as it was very difficult hiding in plain sight of those who may be objectionable to their supernatural rituals of devil worship, which always involved pedophilia, abuse, castration, snuff and even sexual cannibalism.

It was part of his Sunday ritual to take private prayers at the convent chapel in Eastbook, a small village not far from the orphanage. Maybe he would swing by, unannounced, to St. Mary’s Orphanage for some late-night entertainment. He’d arrived at the convent. The nuns were familiar with his Sunday routine. As they all had taken a vow of silence, after vespers, the chapel would be quiet and empty — just as the Bishop liked it.

The Bishop didn’t bother to lock the chapel door. He kept a copy of his Satanic Bible hidden inside a Christian Bible cover. He thought it ironic that the convent sisters all believed that he came to the chapel to pray to their Abrahamic God, when in fact, all the while, he was praying to their adversary.


Father Dominic found the Bishop alone. He was relied on. It would mean that he’d be able to get a private audience without all the red tape and protocol. He wasn’t in a position to go through the proper channels — due to the accusations of the nuns. Of course, this would all make sense to the good bishop, once he’d seen the footage on his mobile. The video of the young boy being sodomized by the unidentifiable man, while the two sisters masturbated, was very conclusive evidence.

“My Lord, Bishop, please forgive my interruption of your private prayers,” said Father Dominic.

The bishop looked surprised. He closed his Bible.

“Father Dominic, is that you?” he answered, “I heard that there was a problem with a young child!”

“I can explain everything,” Father Dominic began, “It was a set-up. A shame. I did nothing to the girl. It was the nuns from St. Mary’s. They aren’t what they seem, my Lord. They’re devil worshippers. They’re perverts that use the helpless children in the orphanage with other pedophiles … I have evidence … video … photos …”

“Slow down. What? Are you saying that they set you up to look like a molester and that all the time, they were doing far worse?” asked the bishop in a sympathetic voice, “ Sit down. Relax, we’re all alone here. Catch your breath.”

The priest sighed in relief. It was the first time, since the incident, that he had felt any relief. His mind had been moving at high speed, as he tried to figure out what to do next.

“Yes, yes, of course. Sorry, I’m so upset over this. I just couldn’t believe it, until I witnessed it with my very own eyes,” replied Father Dominic, “It was horrific!”

Father Dominic sat down.

“Yes, I’m sure it was.”

“Look, I managed to get a video of their obscene behavior, my Lord,” said the priest holding out his mobile, “It’s all here. It’s all here.”

The bishop put his hand on Father Dominic’s shoulder. It was obvious that the young priest was completely distraught after all that happened. The bishop took the mobile phone from the priest’s hand and played the footage for himself.

The bishop watched it all in complete silence.

He replayed it several times without comment. The video showed several naked children of various ages being sexually abused by the two perverted nuns. They forced the young ones to kneel before them and to pleasure their hairy cunts with their mouths. Unknowingly to the young priest, the bishop felt his cock thicken with blood and throb secretly as he watched the two evil women object-raping a young girl before the idol of Satan.

I couldn’t but notice the third person there. Of course, he knew it was him. And with the bishop’s identity obscured he sighed in secret relief, as it was clear that the obsessed male was brutally sodomizing one of the young boys. The behavior of the boy showed that the act was far from consensual it appeared that the boy’s suffering seemed to be an integral part of their dark ritual.

“It’s … it’s horrific, right?” said the younger priest.

“Is this the only copy?”

“Yes, I haven’t been able to return since the incident. I had nowhere to go. That’s why I came to you.”

”Well, I’m glad you did. I will need to keep this for a while,” said the bishop as he put the priest’s phone into his robe packet.

He would “accidentally” erase all the evidence, once the priest had left. He would need to warn the sisters. And then he’d need to move quickly to deal with this troublesome priest. A suicide. An unfortunate suicide — the official story would be that he could no longer live with the guilt of his horrendous crimes. Yes. That would work.

”Of course, my Lord,” responded the trusting priest.


To be continued?


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 xpanther2019@protonmail.com