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 © 2023 LITTLESALLY666.

STORY CODES: LGBT themes, Incest, MC, Masturbation, Corruption, Scat, WS, Coercion, NS, Rape, Lolita, Magic, Blasphemy, Devil Worship, Demons, Occult, Satanic Rites, BDSM, Cosplay

CREATED: 12.12.2012 / UPDATED: 20.05.2022 / REVISITED: 18.07.2023


Another such victim is Novice André Depaul. A recent recruit to the priesthood, enthralled by the Dance of the Amanojaku … his gullible nature turned this upright Christian believer … preying on his confused sexual identity … they feed his dark fantasies and lewd thoughts … to molest the vulnerable he swore to protect.


Amanojaku — The Prayer


Novice André Depaul remembered a time when things were simpler. His Father, Jacques Depaul, had not wanted him to become a priest, but to remain in the family business. But Andre had got the calling and had turned down the lucrative life for the path to find Christ.

The Word of God had brought him some peace. The ‘good book’ brought him some solace. The life dedicated to religious instruction had order, structure, and harmony. Deep in his heart, he was consciously aware of his impurity. But then again, no life is without sin … and the Lord’s immeasurable and unfathomable forgiveness gave him hope that the life of service he had chosen. It would make him ‘one’ with the Lord Almighty, who would fix his imperfections … make him right … make him righteous.

The faith, of course, had its challenges. And as he progressed to his recruitment to the religious ranks, he felt some affirmation of this commitment to the life of abstinence … to turn his back on sinful thoughts and unwelcome desires of the flesh.

His four years in the Seminary, taking his Master in Divinity had not gone without some deep soul searching. Though his peers, had recognized him for his devotion, care, and empathy, he had inwardly struggled against his sexuality. As a novice brother, of the Holy Order of the Prieuré de Sion, he had been placed as a librarian in the Holy Cross Archive of the Seminary library.

He had found it rather slow and uninspiring at first. Simply cataloging and preserving rare books and manuscripts was a very lonely pursuit. But over time, he had come to realize that this more solitary occupation, kept his mind and soul straight … away from the temptations. He came to see it as a blessing in disguise or as he put it, “God’s way” — the path of the faithful was never to be an easy road — and as a Man of God, he recognized that his life choices would remain challenging even with the Grace of God.

Unfortunately, that was not the way things were working out. He also found that he had a passion and secret interest in studying some of the uncategorized publications. Some of these publications were rather controversial, as they draw reference to the “Broken Cross,” which accused his Order of being founded on imaginable filth, perversion, and Satanic persuasion that celebrated the imminent victory of homosexual pedophiles. Of course, he never actually filed such publications, but hide them among the thousands of unclassified items left for him to manage.

The sacrilegious words stirred within him. The “Broken Cross,” was repulsive and attractive to him simultaneously. The Devil seemed to be as omnipresent in his mind, as did the vision of Christ. In moments of weakness, he could even understand and appreciate the deviance away from the light towards the darkness — an Order founded on the principle of Satanism — was an affirmation in a work of the Devil, but aligned itself to his undeniable sexual attraction to young boys. Sometimes, his longing for the flesh would return with vengeance and praying to the Devil to sate his desires conspired against his pious will.

He seemed to oscillate between these poles. Frequently he would have to remind himself of Exodus 20:1-5, “Thou shalt have no other gods before me. Thou shalt not make unto thee any graven image or any likeness of anything that is in heaven above, or that is in the earth beneath, or that is in the water under the earth: Thou shalt not bow down thyself to them, nor serve them,” — only to find himself masturbating over an orgy to corrupt fantasies in which devil worship and the ritual molestation of young boys brought him to orgasmic delight.

It was during one of more wicked days, looking through his secreted manuscripts that he came across an oversized manuscript that seemed to be sealed with a strange metal clasp. André had seen publications like this before, after nearly a year in the Seminary Library he had handled many Anthropodermic bibliopegy and actually rebelled in the fact that most of the other librarian priests were unable to tell the difference between leather and human skin. He noticed the unique aroma of vanillin and anisol, and the even more unique prickling sensation in his fingertips as he tried to dislodge its stubborn lock. The novice was not one to give up, so he decided to take it back to his room, as he had a few tools there that may quench his rising curiosity.

As the day ended, André arrived back at his room. It was a stark and basic place with only rudimentary furnishing. He placed the book upon his dresser, washed and changed for bed. The novice felt tired and thought that he would attempt to open the stubborn publication in the morning.

That night André tossed and turned in the turmoil of his lucid dreams. He awoke in a complete sweat. He glanced at the bedside clock. It was three o’clock in the morning, “The Devil’s Hour.” At first, he turned his face into his pillow. He tried to ignore the raging erection between his legs. He recited the Lord’s Pray over and over, but opening his eyes again and looking across at the dresser, he could make out the shape of the strange manuscript — it seemed to glow with an eerie whitish glow. He got up and brought it over to the bed. He tried to see the source of the small but definite, illumination. André sat down with the manuscript laid across his bare lap. As the textured material connected the bare skin of his legs, his erection touched its surface. It was then, that he noticed, that the clasp had opened.

There was a flash of bright light that filled his mind like a huge spotlight shining directly into his face … the brightness made him squint to focus. He was no longer sitting on the bunk in his room, but found himself in a moonlight garden… a primal place. He felt that he recognized the place as it reminded him of what he imagined the “First Garden,” would have looked like. Obviously, it must be a dream … he told himself, a lucid dream of being at the place of Godliness, of creation. He must be standing in Eden.

But it felt different from anything else he had dreamt before … the novice could see ahead of him, six naked slender figures in the center of the clearing. They seemed to glow in the bright light and appeared to be angelic. He thought he was dreaming of the “Sabbaoth Army,” the Heavenly Host gathered for the battle at, “End of Days.” He was in absolute awe. It was divine and sacred. The angels, with long white hair and graceful wings, danced vivaciously in a circle with clasped hands.

Watching their splendid dance in the bath of moonlight. They moved in perfect unison and harmony with each other. The novice could only imagine the soundless flute that filled the air and swept along with their enchanting movements. André tentatively stepped forward toward them. He took their nudity, as a sign of purity, yet they seemed to be of both male and female form combined together as divine beings. The novice was both fascinated and afraid. The closer he got the more malnourished and skeletal they appeared. Their sunken faces and visible bones reminded him less of angels and more of medieval demons.

One of the androgynous dancers turned to face him and beckoned him to join their circle. He had made the sign of the cross and prayed silently. He was not deserving of such an immaculate vision. He was not without sin. It was then that the novice realized that he too was undressed and became self-conscious of his nudity as they guided him to kneel within the circle, which he reluctantly did.

Looking upon these heavenly creatures, he found his penis becoming inappropriately erect. Its rigidity felt crude and offensive in full view of the angels. He tied to stop the sensation but failed. André kept his gaze downwards, trying to hide his embarrassment. He felt bony long fingers beneath his chin, guiding his face upwards until he gawked at the naked bodies that now very closely surrounded him – like him, they were turgid.

He could see now that they were not angels that surrounded him, but the demons of temptation … and he rejoiced blasphemously as their dance turned to one of unabated lust … and his penis pearled with pre-cum as he feasted upon their open wickedness. They obscenely thrust back and forth, stroking their own and each other’s cocks, their fists tightly wrapped around their upward-curving appendages. As they convulsed and shot their slimy demonic loads across the novice’s face and into his open mouth as they screamed in evil ecstasy to André to “Dance with us and you will receive the gift of your darkest desires.”

André shuddered, expelling the somnolence, as he realized that he was still in the dark seclusion of his room in the rear of the library. His rational side was caught in sophistries … until he remembered the Dance of the Amanojaku and with trembling excitement the words of the demon.

“Dance with us and you will receive the gift of your darkest of desires.”

He turned on his reading light and opened the heavy pages of the manuscript. The book quivered in his hands as his rock-hard cock rubbed directly against the tingling texture of the manuscript, bringing an unexpected intensity of pleasure — like electric shocks of sexual delight pulsing through his lap — unconsciously he bucked back and forth against the ribbed flesh-like material.

The page fell open upon an illustration of a bent and broken cross that had nailed to it a repulsive and distorted figure of Jesus Christ. Jesus was completely naked. His body twisted in demonic suffering with blood pouring down his contorted face from his crown of thorns, from his wrists and ankles from the nails; but in all the pain and suffering he was very erect — his cock dripping with bloody precum — as if the suffering that was foretold as a sacrifice for man’s sins, was also the catalyst for André’s own twisted fantasies.

André turned the parchment viewing the illuminated scriptures that cleared and showed images of naked demons worshiping the cock of the Baphomet, just like the Amanojaku of his dream they were raping and torturing young boys in a frenzied perverse orgy in a medieval vision of the torments of hell. André’s body convulsed in waves of forbidden sexual ecstasy as his semen sprayed from his cock across the pages of the manuscript, his huge load spattered across the perverse images, as he gave himself fully to this vision of sacrilegious delight.

At that moment, it was clear. The novice recognized his wish; his darkest desires; he would become a vulture, a scavenger, a predator as he had always fantasized … he would corrupt and seduce the young that tormented his perverted mind.



The flamboyant and effeminate choirmaster, Brother Dion Boulle, had met Novice André on a number of occasions and found him to be a hardworking and studious novice — a valuable asset to the Seminary library — he also found that he was very attracted to this youth, and sensed kindred darkness about his soul.

“Young Brother André what business brings you so late to the choir practice hall? Feel the need to sing in praise for the Lord?” He immediately found the sight of the young brother stoking his frustrated libido. He would sell his blasphemous soul for a steamy night with this lad.

“Brother Dion, my mouth always serves the Lord.”

Brother Dion went as hard as nails

“But tonight I have come to ask for your advice and council,” replied André.

“Of course. Please, we can use my room, it is very private and quiet. We can be completely alone,” replied the lecherous choirmaster.

He had only just spoken the words when his mind was besieged by lucid visions of this young novice semi-naked before him, touching himself. Everything seemed to move in slow motion in a kind of immoral ritualistic dance. His gown opened to the front as his flesh gyrated to tribal pagan sounds. His face displayed the wickedness of unholy pleasure as the boy’s hand beat the shaft of his delicious young cock across the brother’s face as he shot his load.

Brother Dion gasped out loud. He held the wall for support and immediately prayed in Latin to hold back this onslaught, his breath sharp and shallow, as he dripped with carnal arousal beneath his gown.

“Are you already Brother Dion?” asked the novice so concerned, so innocently.

“Yes … Oh, yes … just a short dizzy spell my son. Please come in and take a seat on the edge of my bunk,” replied Brother Dion

Inside the sparse room at one end was a simple desk; and to the opposite side, there was a simple bunk and a low but sturdy table. The windows were large, but too high, for anyone to peep over.

“Brother Dion, I have reason to believe that there are sinful young boys in the choir that have been using the library, as a place to meet for unsavory activities — dare I say, ‘mutual masturbation,’ and, ‘oral sex’ — Brother Dion.”

“Dear Lord,” Brother Dion gasped.

His mind filled with another apparition of his latent desire. He could see the novice secretly observing his two young sopranos — sinfully naked together — embracing each other, joined at the loins, as they frantically rubbed against each other in carnal delight. Their mouth and tongues plunged together as they fornicated.

Brother Dion felt flushed and had begun to shake.

“Another dizzy spell Brother? If it is not a good time — I came to talk to you tomorrow?”

“Yes, I mean no … please, don’t stop … continue your report.”

“Well … Brother, I have observed that they have been looking at some of our, more … controversial books. One in particular that is intended to warn us of the power of lustful demons that seek to pervert us to serve their depraved master, Satan, through sacrilegious desires and the ritual of sodomy.”

The very word, “Satan,” made his balls tighten and his cock weep.

“I see,” panted Brother Dion, ”I had no idea that we kept such … interesting books in our Seminary Library?”

“Brother, I have brought such a publication for your close examination. Further to your council, I seek to keep this matter only between us — I have prayed for them, but I feel we need more than just prayers — I beseech you to find a fitting punishment for those wayward boys before it is too late.”

“Your discretion in this delicate matter is highly appreciated. Let me see this publication for myself.”

Novice André placed the evil manuscript in front of Brother Dion, opening it to this illuminated scriptures filled with images of naked demons raping and torturing young boys. The choirmaster almost orgasmed without touching himself — the blasphemous fantasies leaped from the page — his soul was already burning among the black ritual candles made from the fat of sacrificed babies. He was a priest — a high priest of the horned god — his cock was balls deep in the throat of an unfortunate boy offered to in sacrifice to the fully erect Baphomet.

Novice André’s hand fondled the tented front of the brother’s gown, who groaned quietly under the young man’s seduction.

“Brother Dion, why don’t you call the boy sopranos? Do you know how they make you feel? They need to be punished without delay.”

“Yes. Yes. Yes … they certainly do, Brother André,” panted Dion as his hips bucked unconsciously against the novice’s corrupting touch.

Withdrawing his hand from its grip of the choirmaster through the cause material of his gown, he closed the manuscript.

“They need to be punished. Their souls are at stake, Brother. It is our solemn duty to punish them … to purge them together,” affirmed the novice.

Brother Dion tried to catch his breath.

“Yes, Brother André … their blasphemous ways must not go unpunished. Remain in my room … I will fetch them here, so that we may proceed over such retribution for it is the work of the Devil.”

Disappearing briefly, he walked down the hall and called the two preteen boys over. He shepherded them into his private chamber, where Brother André stood waiting for them. He held a short cane in his hand, tapping it against his palm in a menacing way.

The boys were still dressed in their white choir gowns, as part of the dress rehearsal for the Liturgia Horarum at the end of the month. They had both intended to retire — before being called by their choirmaster.

“Shall we make sure that the door is locked Brother Dion, so that there are no interruptions during the punishment?” Brother Dion nodded eagerly and locked his room door quickly.

The two tiny boys looked troubled and confused. They were not sure why they had displeased their choirmaster. He had only ever been supportive of their efforts. Now he looked uncharacteristically austere as he pulled the prie-dieu into the center of the room.

“It has come to our attention that you have both been doing unspeakable acts in the library,” accused their choirmaster.

The boys’ look of confusion had turned to one short of panic, as they truly did not understand the bogus charges.

“Sir. We go to the library to study. Just study … we do not know of any unspeakable acts master?”

“You have both been seen by other members of the clergy — a very reliable source — he says that you have been touching each other in the private parts? That you have been observed fellating one another?”

The two of them began to sob, unable to comprehend those awful words, unable to think of why they had been singled out for such obscene wrongdoing that was simply not true.

“I have called you to me because such insidiousness must be punished.

“Shouldn’t we humiliate them, before their punishment, dear Brother?” whispered the deviant novice in the ear of the choirmaster.

“Take off your gowns, the pair of you,” barked the effeminate choirmaster.

The boys complied with their master’s orders, now standing naked they held themselves in shame.

“Sodomites — put your hands to your sides and stand upright, while we observe you.”

Brother Dion was salivating at the sight of his two naked little choirboys. The novice boldly stepped forward and used the short cane to lift the genitals of the first boy.

“Shall I cane his genitals first?” the novice questioned the other boy, then switching the cane to the second boy’s he asked, “Or shall I cane yours first?”

“Him … not me … please not me.”

“No master, not me … cane him.”

“I see, neither of you is honorable enough to own up. Then we shall test your chastity … you will masturbate each other in front of us … and the first to spill his seed will be punished … the other will be spared my cane … do you understand?”

The boys both nodded. Their crying seemed to subdue with this more ominous of challenges.

“Well then … begin.”

Gingerly they both reached out for the other’s penis. They both looked awkward and held their partner’s flaccid member in small hands. Clumsily they began rubbing each other. They soon became erect. Soon their little cocks wept with clear boy precum. Soon they both groaned in their efforts to make the other spill his seed first.

Brother Dion could not resist the urge to rub himself beneath his gown as he watched the two boys as they frantically tried to avoid the punishment. He stood immediately behind the novice, bending his head to his ear, and whispered, “Brother novice … this is truly an act of heresy.”

Emboldened by the actions of the young choirboys, the novice pushed back against the older monk, so that his backside rubbed directly against the hard flesh of his Brother.

“Unholy brother master … don’t we both enjoy masturbation whilst impaled upon our crucifixes? Blasphemy is such a delight! Does our seed belong deep in their unworthy bowels? Their cries will be such music that no choir could ever match! Should we not give thanks to the one true god, Io Pan, the androgynous one? Ave Satanas! AVE SATANAS!”

“It is true young novice …. You inflame me with wanton lust … Ave Satanas … I kneel between Io Pan’s huffed legs and kiss his filthy anus every night.”

Brother Dion’s hands gripped firmly the young brother’s hips as he ground his erection firmly up and down the crack of his anus. Separated only by their flimsy gowns, André gyrated against his rapid up and down movements, causing the harsh fabric to chaff Brother Dion’s desire for anal penetration. André muffled his urge to moan as the two boys’ hands continued their graceless efforts to make the other ejaculate first.

The smaller of the two sopranos began to groan uncontrollably as he reached orgasm first … despite his best attempt not to ejaculate, he began to jerk. The Brother Novice quickly caught his blast of clear fluids in a silver chalice intended for holy communion.

The contest lost, and the victor tried to step back, but Brother Dion pulled the naked boy onto the prie-dieu so that he knelt in front of the perverted manuscript. Brother Dion opened the page to the image of the priest of Satan, dressed in a tall pointed hat, his gown open and a young naked boy impaled upon his enormous penis.

Without further coercion, the boy began to masturbate himself, groaning in an overt displace of his newfound pleasure. His companion looked on in horror — he was in complete disbelief — his damp flaccid penis hung limply after his forced ejaculation. The novice removed his gown and began to rub himself against the rear of the masturbating boy, pushing his cock between his legs, so that the boy could masturbate the pair of them, their cocks held together in his small fingers. Holding the chalice to the boy’s mouth, he poured the contents into his open mouth, which the young boy devoured.

Brother Dion removed his gown too and eagerly pulled the flaccid boy towards him.



Sister Corneille Brolic and Novice Marie d’Aspilecute were nineteen and twelve, respectively.

They were introduced to the talented choirmaster Brother Dion Boulle and his young associate from the Seminary library, Novice André Depaul to assist with their duties. They had met behind closed doors on the pretext of an important research assignment that warranted further verification.

Sister Corneille had immediately expressed her discomfort with certain topics of debate brought up by the enigmatic Depaul and Boulle, who seemed to challenge the doctrine of the Holy Order of the Prieuré de Sion, by their mention of how their fore-founders had been guilty of what they had described as, “The Worship of the Generative Powers,” — that by this Depaul explained to the wary Sisters that they had in fact worshiped the Devil as a priapic fertility God; under the guise that this God was a healing God, particularly of diseases and defects of the reproductive organs in which the sexual act was necessary for the continuation of life.

Sister Corneille could not believe what they were saying. This was complete heresy. The fore-founders were beyond reproach and deserved the highest of respect. But even as she thought these words she utter unto herself, “They declare the celebration of sexuality as procreation as a religious act?” The thought made her afraid of the implications. What if the Brothers were right? She knew that her colleague, Sister Marie, was still too young to appreciate the immensity of this claim; but she, on the other hand, felt desperate to prove them false.

“By what proof, learned Brother, can you verify such terrible claims?” asked the older of the two Sisters.

She paced back and forth. Nervous and unsettled.

“Let me say … we too were both horrified when we first came upon this revelation,” lied the corrupt novice.

He eyed the attractive young Sister and wondered what she looked like beneath her black gown. He would find out soon enough.

Depaul showed them some of the documentary evidence that he had uncovered hidden in the Holy Cross Archive. It detailed their fore-founders’ worship of the supposed, “God of the Witches’ Magic,” that they had partaken in celebrations of the fertility deities, adopted many of the customs and used relics of ancient fertility rituals; and used the Witches’ Sabbath, Priapeia and Liberalia in all their venereal details to reproduce copious licentious orgies in the name of Aquelarre (he-goat).

“They had kept in ritual, the priapic worship, that in fact, they had taken vows which the people of antiquity addressed to Priapus, our fore-founders then redirected their prayers to a new God, that we know now as Satan,” he reported somberly, but with hidden zeal.

“Brother Dion, this is incredulous. You mentioned an ancient manuscript that you believed to be critical. Could it be part of this evil lore or in fact be the missing piece in this insidious puzzle?”

Brother Dion held the manuscript in his hand offering it to her. Sister Corneille eyed the manuscript with suspicion. She took it into her grasp. It seemed to vibrate with an energy all of its own.

“Yes, Sister. But we fear this manuscript you hold as the work of a powerful and wicked sorceress. The manuscript itself is controlled by dark magic … in order for us to observe this, we need your help,” asked Brother Dion.

Sister Corneille felt a small epicenter of arousal awakening something dormant … small as it seemed at first, its rapid warmth filled her loins and spread across her sexual parts — arousing her instantly — against her better judgment and certainly against her own will to be pious and restrained in such matters.

“Aaghhhhhhhh …” She gasped, trying to gain control, but losing it as quickly as she seemed to hold herself back. “We … we must disprove this heresy! The clasp … it will not open?” Groaned the Sister as she tried to peer inside. Warmth upon warmth and tingling became a penetrating pleasure. “Of course Sister Marie and I … we will do anything we can to help. But what is it that we must do?”

Her mind was spinning as the dark magic surged through her. “I feel so strangely excited. What is happening to me?”

“You must understand Sisters, that this must not be shared with anyone. That, this matter must be handled with delicacy and diplomacy — it must be our secret — until we are sure,” insisted Depaul.

“Of course brothers. We understand, don’t we Sister Marie?” Sister Corneille responded.

Her heart was pounding loudly in her ears. She could feel the flow of fluids sliding down the inside of her legs. Her vagina throbbed, urging her to touch herself. She wanted to run off.

“Yes,” agreed the young novice sister, not truly aware, but trusting of her Sister’s knowledge on such matters.

“They mentioned that it was the Sisters who took an ointment given to them by the Devil, with which they anointed a wooden phallic rod, at the same time rubbing the palms of their hands with it, and then, placing the phallus between their legs inserting it into their vaginas. This was supposed to transport them to the lieu de la chèvre (place of the goat) … to perform a ritual at Tableau de l’Inconstance des Mauvais Anges et Demons (The Volatile Table of Evil Angels and Demons),” whispered Depaul.

“What exactly are you suggesting Brothers?” asked Sister Corneille.

Any discomfort with the subject manner was rapidly changing from outrage to lewd excitement. Carnal thoughts overwhelmed her senses.

“Sisters … we want to be absolutely sure about this, if we are to bring this to the attention of the Holy Order, we had better have investigated it fully. I believe the only way to uncover the secrets, is to assume their ritual to penetrate their lies and deceptions,” assured Brother Dion.

“Blasphemous thoughts? Partake in filthy pagan ritual? Offering ourselves to sex demons?”

“Yes, Sister all of these and much, much more … the articles said that through this initiation they were transported to a banquet of sumptuous viands, filled with a multitude of people. The Devil presided over their Sabbath, a great assemblage of witches, of both sexes and demons. They each brought new converts with them, and on their arrival, presented them to the Devil who appeared in the form of a goat, with the tail of an ape, and a human countenance. Each new convert, first did oblation and homage to him by offering him his or her soul, and then, as a mark of adoration, kissed his unclean posterior,” read Depaul aloud, his piercing eyes noticing the subtle changes coming over the older Sister.

“Yes, Brothers … tell us more of these tenebrous rituals. So that we may be forewarned of the illicitness and salaciousness ahead,” Sister Corneille’s voice trembled with her obvious eagerness.

“And after the grand feast, they would all rise from the table to dance, discarding their clothing as a scene of wild and uproarious revelry began. Alternately a male and a female held each other’s hands in a circle. The naked dances became progressively more violent and obscene in character. The songs, too, which were sung in these orgies were obscene and vulgar. The music was often drawn from burlesque instruments, such as a stick or a bone for a flute, a horse’s skull for a lyre, the trunk of a tree for a drum, and a branch for a trumpet.

“As they became more excited, they became more licentious, and at last they abandoned themselves to indiscriminate sexual intercourse, men and women, boys and girls, men and boys, women and girls … in which the demons played an active role. As the demons took part, assuming alternately the form of either sex, according to that of their temporary partners, some assuming the sexual organs of both male and female within the same form … these androgynous demons were called the Amanojaku,” Added Brother Dion.

“Oh my …” gasped Sister Marie.

She could feel the shift that she was not a part of, like the tide turning rapidly against her.

“Sister Marie … We have to think of the greater good,” reassured Sister Corneille salivating over her young cohort.

“Yes, the greater good … it is said that the women must adopt a lascivious temperament, which must be shown even in their manner of dressing, their headdress as being singularly indecent, exposing their person immodestly …”

“We must do as the Brothers suggest,” uttered the panting Sister Corneille as she opened her gown to hold the manuscript against her naked flesh below.

“What are you doing Sister? I’m afraid … ” asked the child novice.

She quivered, afraid of what might come next.

“Sister Marie, just do as I do …” she replied.

“Please Sister, let’s leave this place!”

“No Sister, we have a duty.”

“Upon the Witches’ Sabbath, that worshipers, both male and female made offerings to the Devil, obliged to seal their denial of the Christian faith by trampling on the cross, spitting on and blaspheming the saints, in despite of Jesus and of the Holy Trinity, to perform other profane acts,” charmed Brother Dion as he too loosed his gown, no longer pretending to be virtuous.

“What offerings must be made to summon these evil creatures?”

“The demons, it seems, were mostly appeased by the offering of children … their innocence and virginity seemed to be prized … the witches had prepared them, corrupted them, molested them … re-baptized them in their urine before they were offered to the demons for sex,” coaxed the evil novice.

They all looked like Sister Marie.

Sister Corneille smiled through gritted teeth.

“Child, have you bled yet?” The girl silently shook her head. “Excellent.”

The Sister felt the clasp open and in surprise the manuscript fell to the floor, open to a page depicting a child being offered to the Devil. A young naked girl, no more than twelve years old, kneeling before the towering goat-headed Devil. Aquelarre stood naked, his erect member exhibited for all to see, as it stood upright over a cubit (twenty inches) in length and his great tail hanging behind. Depaul had opened his own gown.

“We have prepared for this moment,” announced Depaul, as Brother Dion, donned the skull of a horse and opened his gown fully to display his enormous cock, “Sister you must re-baptize the child once naked and kneeling before your demon brother … offer the child, so that the ritual may transport us all to the lieu de la chèvre (place of the goat).”

“Oh Merciful God … what are all doing?”

“Isn’t it obvious my child? We must honor the true traditions of the Holy Order of the Prieuré de Sion … with the phallic rod, we will offer you to the Divine one … the Horned God … the Aquelarre … the great Cock God!”




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