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, WS, Coercion, Corruption, NC, Cannibalism, Rape, Sadism, Snuff, MC, Demons, Supernatural, Evil themes.

CREATED: 29.07.2011 / REVISITED: 21.07.2023

Deviant Dreams


If it is the dirty element that gives pleasure to the act of lust, then the dirtier it is, the more pleasurable it is bound to be — Marquis de Sade

Lena awoke suddenly. She felt alive, totally and utterly elated. It was an innocent moment filled with intuitive feelings that bring great spiritual joy and freedom; like the awakening from one sweet dream into another even sweeter. It was like a child’s anticipation of the wonders of Christmas or a birthday celebration — something she hasn’t felt for a very long time.

Happiness found through sight unseen, through pencils and pastels of blue and green. Silently singing their songs of praise, through awareness uplifted and joy upraised. to know and see in the presence of thee is the gift of joy bestowed upon me.

The softness of the early morning light cascaded like the dust that danced in the radiant beams through the net curtains of the high and horizontal basement windows of her secluded apartment. Her mind was inspired by the incandescence of spiritual mystery that burned so brightly inside her mind’s eye.

She took a deep breath and tried to piece together the exact content of this awakening dream. A few lucid droplets of clarity seemed to echo in the light and shade of the visual poetry that teased the paintbrush of her contemplative imagination.

I must capture this dreamy gesture before the feeling is lost.

Jumping out of bed, she quickly pulled on her white monogrammed dressing robe and skipped barefoot into her painting studio. A virgin canvas lay waiting, she wasted no time in trying to capture the vividness of the moment — to express herself with great vigor as transformational energy swept through her very being — a lightning bolt of creativity.

Lena had always felt that her purpose in life had yet to be revealed — she sensed that that moment had finally come. Like a heavenly guardian had illuminated the way. Her paintbrush moved feverishly inspired by a chorus of divine angels and she was compelling to capture the heavenly beauty of their choric voices of praise.

She prayed to the Lord to give her guidance in her everyday life and took great solace in the good book and the small local church she attended. A slight woman, no taller than five foot with a boyish figure, Lena had long dirty blond hair that was always drawn into a ponytail, reflecting her conservative dress of twin-sets, knee-length skirts, and flat shoes.

At twenty-eight, she sometimes felt life was passing her by. With no family, no husband, no boyfriend, and not even any likely prospects … this morning was an instance of self-realization, she was focused like never before.


‘It’s beautiful, you’re such a talented artist’ announced Sara as she studied Lena’s latest creation. The surreal white-on-whiteness of a beautiful winged angel dominated the canvas that was bigger than both of them. The subtly she had employed to gave grace and poise without loss of fluidity… a painting filled with the joie de vivre …

“I know,” replied Lena.

Her staccato laughter betrayed her nervousness at such a presumptuous statement.

“I know you’re not supposed to say that about your own work right? But I can’t explain it. It was truly amazing. It was as if the idea and composition just appeared in my dream, and I had to paint it before the image slipped from my memory.”

She must think I’m going crazy.

Lena and Sara lived together and had been friends since primary school and though Lena was not aware, Sara had had a secret crush on her since they were only eleven years old. Sara was also very deeply committed to the church and to the spiritual life that they both led together. Maybe at a subconscious level, Lena had some awareness of the way Sara felt, but she never said anything or acted upon it.

She had seen Lena go through the loss of her parents and in many ways felt the deep grief and her compassion seemed to transcend her own selfish desires — though there was no denying Sara’s attraction to Lena’s cuteness had only got more intense over the years. Sara shook her head to rid herself of these unwelcome feelings.

Sara wasn’t much taller than Lena — maybe an inch, but no more. In fact, they looked and dressed like each other, like sometimes twin sisters or best friends do when they are younger — but this had somehow been extended into their early adult life. It was so ingrained that they didn’t even notice it about each other anymore. Sara’s mother had remarried and consequently had a much younger stepbrother of about twelve years. She hated her family’s politics, and though she rarely saw them, she did enjoy the time she spent with her sibling.

She must think I’m going crazy.

“What’s wrong?” asked Lena, “You aren’t telling me everything? Do you think I am going a little crazy? All this talk about dreaming of angels and divine feelings, right, I know it all sounds a bit foolish, right? But I tell you, it was an incredible sensation — I just can’t explain it!”

“No Lena. I feel it when I look at your painting. It is wonderful. I get it, but it’s a bit scary. To think that I haven’t seen you so energized for ages and it is so good to see you picking up your brushes again. What have we been doing all these years? And look at me. I don’t have dreams like that.”

Lena cuddled Sara for a moment.

“You’re such a crybaby,” she said tenderly to her dearest and best friend.

Sara didn’t move. She just enjoyed her friend’s warm and comforting embrace. She could not help noticing their soft breasts pressed together beneath their clothing. Her nipples immediately hardened inside the protective thickness of her conservative bra and though she longed to kiss her friend passionately on the mouth, she just sighed to herself.

“Come on Sara,” consoled Lena, “We will be late for Mass this afternoon. Do you think it would be too weird to mention this to the priest — he might think that I am.”



The only way to get rid of a temptation is to yield to it — Oscar Wilde.

Lena tossed and turned into a REM dream world. She had become a tangle of nightgown and bed sheets; her body was dusted in lightly perfumed perspiration. Her sleeping mind was floating with the softest of the whispers of angelic voices in clouds that shifted and changed like a sea of immaculate fusion.

A radiant figure appeared before her in a shining translucent shroud. She could make out the face of an angel, or at least, what she believed an angel would look like. Neither male nor female, the androgynous figure stood against the brightness of a full moon. The angel beckoned her, but Lena could not move, immobilized in some sort of temporary paralysis as the obscure whispers seemed to surround her.

“Listen, Lena,” said a whispering voice, “Listen to the grace of your god. Listen not with your ears, but with your heart. Open yourself to us and obey. Obey the greatness of the true God – the divine one who calls upon you to obey.”

These words curled like smoke from a ghostly candle that left her unexpectedly moist between the legs. She stood naked and pure in the bright light like a vestal virgin. But this didn’t seem to be important right now, as god was all-seeing and all-knowing.

“Listen Lena … Kneel before your great God, so that you may worship with the creativity that flows from his loins.” The single whispering feminine voice was suddenly joined by a chorus of whispers, all urging her … “Worship him, worship his loins.”

Worship him. Worship the loins of God.

Lena awoke abruptly from her dream-like state with a physical jolt that left her gasping for her breath and drenched in her own sweat.

Oh my …

“Lena. Lena. Are you all right?” it was Sara, “I thought I heard you cry out?”

She quickly added, as she realized that Lena’s nightgown was twisted in a way that left her almost completely naked from the waist down — Sara felt a sudden flood between her own legs, as she could not help but stare at Lena’s delicate pussy, her labia were flushed with arousal and soaked from her nocturnal arousal.

Lena didn’t move for a moment. It felt as if she had been drowning one moment, and then escaped to the surface to breathe again.

“Oh, Sara. Oh Sara, hold me please,” said Lena trembling, “A dream, another dream, but I don’t understand what it means?”

Sara held her friend tightly against her bosom. She could smell Lena’s damp genitals and desperately wanted to lick them. Pretending to pull her nightgown over her lap, she ever-so-slightly allowed her fingers to glide across the wetness of Lena’s upper thighs. Holding Lena to one side to obscure her view, Sara took the chance to taste her moist fingertips.

Oh so fucking delicious.

Sara never did anything like this normally. She had always kept a respectful distance. She had on so many occasions suppressed her secret feelings. Lena was her spiritual sister. But tonight she felt different … naughty and dirty …

“Oh Sara, I am so sorry for waking you. I dreamt of the angel again, but I am so confused, the feeling was more than spiritual, it was almost physical. There was nudity and it felt … almost … sexual? What does it mean Sara? Am I going crazy?”

Worship him. Worship the loins of God.

Sara could only think of devouring her, lapping up her salty pussy juices, and much, much more. The smell of Lena’s arousal was driving her crazy with lustful thoughts. She fought these feelings and tried to gain her own composure.

“Lena, everything is going to be all right. It is only a dream.’ A dream that Sara hoped she’d have every night if it meant getting this close to her secret love. ‘I’ll stay here with you tonight. Cuddle up to me. I won’t let anything happen to you. I love you.”

Her pussy smells divine.

“Oh Sara, you’re such a special friend. What would I do without you?”

For all their differences, Lena thought about how Sara had always been there for her, especially when her parents died. She remembered her very brief encounters with a few boys she had dated, it had been Sara that had always talked to her and brought her back to her senses — she saw through them and they weren’t good enough for her …

Sara stroked Lena’s hair gently. She then lightly caressed her neck, bare arms, and shoulders. As Lena began to relax, her breathing rhythm became slow and regular, as she fell back into a deep sleep. Sara took the opportunity to allow her fingers to dance lightly across Lena’s breasts.

Her nipples. Suck her delicious nipples.

Lifting the hem of Lena’s nightgown upwards over her waistline. Sara hesitated, but she couldn’t help herself … she wanted to see this beautiful sight again … to draw in her secret lover’s essence … Sara began to masturbate discretely as she gawked at Lena’s vagina as she slept so peacefully in her arms.

God, I’m cumming just looking at her sweet cunt.


The morning found the two girls still next to each other. Lena was still fast asleep. Sara was awake first up. Feeling Lena in her arms was incredibly sensuous. Regrettably, she got up to get ready for work.

Lena only stirred when she heard the door close, as Sara left the apartment. She got up and slipped out of her damp nightgown, leaving it on the floor as she stepped out of it. She felt refreshed, but frustrated. It had been a very strange night, and though she didn’t understand the underlining erotic twists and turns in her dream — all she could think about was painting. She stared at her masterpiece. It was not right. Like a cocoon containing the butterfly, she had to bring forth what she felt. She had to paint it. She must paint it!

Like a sculptor, forming a living shape out of an amorphous piece of clay, Lena reworked the wet paint from the day before, adding provocative images of naked angels, both male and female, captured with their vibrancy and erotic rawness.

Worship his loins. Worship the cock.

She seemed to have completely lost all track of time as she stood painting canvas after canvas. Lena was still completely naked, her body dashed in splashes of paint as she absentmindedly fingered herself faster as each brushstroke became more daring and revealing than the previous.

Worship his loins. Worship the cock. What is wrong with me? Heavenly angels, I know not what you want of me. I feel a passion, a strange dark passion, but a wonderful passion. What does it mean?


Sara’s thoughts were not on her work.

I need to suck her beautiful breasts. I need to lick her divine cunt.

She found it very difficult to concentrate on the mundane routine assignments of the day when she kept slipping into a daydream about Lena’s body. For years she had guiltily fantasized and madly masturbated about her and had recorded her most intimate thoughts in her diary. She had secretly taken soiled articles of Lena’s underwear to smell and taste during her more debauched sessions. One time, when Lena had been asked to provide a urine sample for her doctor, Sara had offered to drop it into the surgery on the way to her work – just so that she could secretly drink it, while she got off with some pretty raunchy bisexual porn on the net.

In sharp contrast to her strict religious upbringing and church routine, Sara had actually become quite a porn addict lately. It had all started very innocently, but now she had collected quite a large volume of video files, pictures, and erotic stories, that all centered around strangely rather blasphemous and sacrilegious themes. She was very ashamed of it. She was deeply afraid of it, but completely drawn to it, seeking more and more of it every night. She longed to share this interest with Lena, but she was so prim and proper.

Today she left early. She couldn’t contain her lustful urges. She needed to masturbate with one of her toys — maybe a nice fat dildo in both holes.

Arriving home, Sara looked around at the mess. Nothing had been done in the house all day.

What has Lena been up to? I hope she didn’t realize that I came last night next to her – she’d think I was a whore. I want to be a whore and fuck her so badly.

“Lena. Lena, where are you?”

Sara peered around the open door to the studio, but Lena closed the door quickly first.

“Lena, what’s the matter? Let me in.”

“Sara is that you?”

“Yes, it is. What’s going on?”

‘Nothing. I am still working on something … need to …’ her voice trailed off with the sound of movement behind the closed door. Sara wasn’t sure what Lena was up to, but it was definitely not the Lena she had come to know. It was a much more interesting Lena – maybe one that may have a secret to share with her. She hoped and prayed; though by the unsavory thoughts she was having, she was sure these were ones she didn’t want to share with God, more befitting of the thoughts of the devil.

Oh, naughty daemons grant me this wish and I will worship thee instead of this worthless God of virtuous chastity.

Sara mauled her own breasts with one hand and frantically fingered herself with the other.


Lena finally opened the door to the studio and looked around. Everything was quiet, too quiet. Sara must have gone out. It was here choir practice night, and Lena was supposed to have joined her. Sara stared at her painting. The angelic figure had disappeared into the swirl of darkness from which emerged a sprite … a dark seductive figure tempting her with his nakedness. Other figures fought to emerge from the inky background — just gestures in splashes, yet undeniably sensually suggestive …

Still undressed, Lena felt aroused. She had to break her concentration by walking away. She aimlessly ended up in Sara’s bedroom. It was a funny feeling being naked in your flatmate’s bedroom. She couldn’t remember the last time she had actually been in her room, even with her clothes on. She felt naughty and curious. She saw herself in the large full-length dressing mirror and noticed how it was angled toward the bed — as if one wanted to watch one’s self on the bed. She noticed an aroma, a sweetness that she knew was Sara, but in her room, it seemed to be more concentrated. Lena had never made the connection between her best friend’s aroma and the intense sexual arousal that she felt now.

She’ll really think I am crazy if she catches me naked in her bedroom.

Lena opened her bedside drawer and got a surprise. There among her personal things was a long black dildo — a disgusting thing. It looked evil and perverse. Normally Lena would have run a mile, but today she felt different. Today, she picked it up in her tiny hand. Her heartbeat throbbed in her naked chest as her nipples instantly hardened.

Sara puts this in her pussy. It’s disgusting.

Her revulsion was also her attraction to it. She lifted it to her nose and sniffed it suspiciously.

Sara puts this in her cunt. I can smell her cunt juices dried on it. Lick it bitch. Lick my fucking dildo … mmmm ….

Her whole body screamed to stop this temporary insanity. Her mind could not comprehend such wanton wickedness. Still, her tongue tentatively snaked out of her prim and proper mouth and licked the dull black surface of the dildo.

This is what Sara’s cunt tastes like. Fucking hot.

Turning to face the mirror, she watched herself suck the obscene object into her mouth. She looked like a whore of Sodom. She lowered the dildo and rubbed it against the outer lips of her itchy pussy and then pushed the head of it between her lips, rubbing it back and forth across her erect clit.

Worship his loins. Worship cock.

She lay on Sara’s bed and could now appreciate what Sara would see, looking into her dressing mirror, her legs spread as she worked the dildo up and down, but not too deep – it felt sinful and shameful to do it in Sara’s bed but made her feel excited and alive like never before!

As she leaned back against the headboard, she felt something hard beneath Sara’s pillow. She went to shift it, to make herself more comfortable, when she realized it was her flatmate’s diary.

This was Sara’s personal writing; she never shared this with anyone … She opened it up and a few loose pages fell to the floor. Lena scrabbled to pick them up. The first was a picture of herself, a very young picture, that must have been taken in the days when we still used Polaroid cameras. She looked so innocent and sweet — a guilty feeling hit Lena like a ton of bricks.

This was Sara’s and she had no right to violate her privacy. She had already gone way too far. Second was also a picture of Lena, a more recent one. She was almost completely naked on her bed, her breasts and vagina were clearly visible, and lying next to her was Sara, smiling back at the self-held digital camera, also naked and fingering herself. She noticed Sara’s slick-shaven pussy. It looked like when they were both little girls, sharing a bath-time fun together…

Disgusting. Oh so disgusting. Oh so fucking filthy and nasty. What else is in this little treasure trove?

Her cunt burned with a heat that needed immediate attention. Lena unfolded the piece of loose paper that was filled with the addresses of dozens of perverted websites. The names said it all.

She opened Sara’s diary at the page marker. It was yesterday. She had written in graphic detail about her feelings for Lena, and how she lusted after her. Intimate details of all the kinky things she dreamed of doing to Lena. Flicking the pages backward, it seemed that every entry was a lewd and twisted fantasy involving men, women, animals, transsexuals, but mostly Lena.

She wasn’t even sure what a transsexual was – but knew she wanted to find out. Her frank descriptions of masturbating with Lena’s dirty underwear in her mouth, drinking her urine sample, and even a dark prayer to an unchristian god for his evil blessing. Lena’s fingers were thrusting toward the edge of a delicious orgasm.

Worship his loins. Worship cock.

She noticed Sara’s laptop on her desk. As Lena touched the mouse, the screen saver disappeared and a password box appeared. She tried a few hits and misses … but when she used her own name … the screen purred to life. The hard drive was full of pornography … Lena was shocked, and disturbed at her own excitement was watching a video of a young girl having sex with a dog; another with a woman eating her own shit; and finally a scene that made Lena realize what a transsexual was …

Panting deeply, she felt her hand subconsciously push the dildo deeper inside her causing her to convulse in pleasures that she had never allowed herself to indulge in before. A noise outside the apartment door startled her. Her heart skipped a few beats and her mouth went dry. What if it was Sara? She didn’t want to get caught in her room, with her personal stuff laid out on the bed and her dildo stuffed halfway up her best friend’s fanny.

Lena quickly tried to put everything back the way it was and skip back into her bedroom. She wasn’t sure what to think about everything that had happened. She would need to pray for forgiveness. God would understand her intentions were innocent. She knew she was lying to herself.



We will sin today and ask for forgiveness tomorrow, such is the beauty of the faith — Unknown

Sara went through the motions at choir practice. It was no fun without Lena there. She could not stop thinking about Lena’s secretive behavior — it annoyed her and excited her at the same time. Her pussy ached from the thrashing she gave herself with the dildo back in the sanctuary of her apartment bedroom.

All the way home her mind keep jumping back and forth over the night before. Sara felt ashamed of her shocking behavior, it was one thing to fantasize and another to act upon these unchristian desires. She just went too far this time. Lena meant more to her than that, she loved her so dearly. Life without her would be unbearable. No, she would have to face the fact that she was never going to be more than a friend — a really close friend that meant more than the sinful thoughts that threatened to spoil their relationship.

Standing outside the apartment, she could hear some movement inside, she thought she would wait a moment – give her good friend the time to know she was home, and then she’d act as if nothing had happened.

“Lena. Lena it’s me Sara.”

“Hi, Sara. Sorry, I don’t feel very well. I’m going to get an early night,” she answered from behind the closed bedroom door.

‘“Okay. No problem. See you in the morning.”


“Love you,” she said guiltily.

“Love you too,” replied Lena.

Her thoughts are distracted by the discovery of Sara’s secret passions and desires. I must be chaste. I must be strong and resist the urges of the devil. I must pray for both of us…


The cloak of night fell abruptly. After a marathon of repentant prayers, Lena lay on the top of her bedclothes … too tired to even slip between the covers. Her heavy eyelids soon clamped shut and she drifted off into an impure sleep.

A vision appeared before her in the form of a dark male face. His eyes burned with desire and passion… naked beneath the thin black shroud. He looked down upon her disapprovingly. His face was not compassionate. His once enigmatic smile was now twisted in scorn and contempt. She could clearly see his erect penis tenting the front of the gossamer-thin vale. It looked disgusting and exciting at the same time … she thought of Sara’s dildo.

“Listen Lena.”

It was the whispers that filled the void between her and the sinking feeling of displeasure. The low voices sounded as if warning her of impending danger.

‘Listen, Lena, your work is not done. Your God has called you and you must answer him. He is displeased with you. He is disappointed with your lack of progress. See his new vision, see it and worship him …”

Worship his loins. Worship cock.

Lena’s sub-consciousness found profound sorrow, at the bitterness of god’s displeasure, eroding with an anticipation of sexual mischievousness. She found herself surrounded by human-like forms, each covered in a delicate vale. Their erotic naked forms were just visible in translucency as they began to slowly move around the male figure.

They began to immerge from their cloth cocoons, slowly ripping and tearing the barriers that kept their nakedness apart. They faced away from where Lena stood, their feminine forms knelt at his feet as their tiny hands reached upwards to tear the vale that surrounded him until he too was naked before Lena’s eyes.

What was once white and pure became dark and sinister. The feminine forms gyrated and fondled themselves and each other — wriggling at his feet as they orally copulated with his maleness. They moaned in ecstasy as they licked and sucked his thick juicy cock. He glared at Lena. Was it a test of her chastity? The temptation was intensifying — Lena was surrounded by dark sexuality.

Worship his loins. Worship cock.

This wasn’t God. Not a Christian God or a God of grace. This was unclean … filthy … dirty … nasty … lewd … upon his brow, small horns were visible … his cock poured with thick precum as he encouraged his entourage in their sinful duties.

“Listen Lena. Look how wet you are! You want to please him. Give yourself freely and willingly … worship his loins.”

Oh, God. Oh, God. What wickedness. How shameful was my fall? Oh, God. I’m so wet, so fucking hot. Oh, God please guide me … I’m falling.

“Suck your master. Suck his cock. Suck his cock and taste his pre-cum. Offer your mouth. Offer your cunt. Offer your anus!”

His minions moaned in orgasmic delight as they pleasured one another. Their tongues lapped at his rod and at each other’s open mouths. As they moved, Lena could see that they were not female — yes they had breasts, beautiful breasts with hard nipples, but between their legs were cocks … transsexuals with stiff hard cocks … all dripping and rubbing against one another.

Lena could feel the wetness dripping like honey down the inside of her thighs. Her eager fingers traced the sticky wetness upwards until her hand could feel the heat from her pussy. Her eyes could not pull themselves from the demonic orgy that was unfolding before her — it was insidious and revolted her, but her arousal gave away her deeper feeling of craving and thirst for wickedness. Her fingers twisted and rubbed her erect clitoris, sending shivers of pleasure with every touch. Before her the minions copulated; their long cock pistoned in and out of each others’ mouths and rectums.

Worship cock. Worship cock.

She heard a voice from behind her. Turning her head towards the voice, she felt a pair of loving arms wrapping around her and a soft mouth closing over hers.

“Lena. Oh, Lena,”

The sound was drowned in the wet tongue kiss that followed. A hand with eager fingers searched out her itchy cunt as she ground her hips against this delicious intruder. Breast against breast as rigid nipples rubbed against each other … she opened her eyes to see Sara’s soft and sensual face before her.

Oh my God. Oh, my Gawd… aarrrggghhhhhhhhh …

In her dream, Lena orgasmed spontaneously …


“Lena. Oh, Lena’ a soft and kindly voice shook her back to consciousness. Lena tensed against the women’s soft embrace. ‘It’s Sara, you’re having another dream … more like a nightmare … you’ll wake the neighbors the way you were screaming,” she laughed quietly.

Lena immediately felt uncomfortable with Sara’s closeness. Her body had been perspiring and she could still feel the residual effects of her unconscious orgasm.

“Don’t know what was going on in your dream, but I want some,” said Sara with a spark of naughtiness.

If only you knew. I want her to kiss me, but I know it is a sin in the eyes of god. Two women can never lie together.

“I’m so sorry to do this again. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I was …” she pulled short … “It was all too weird to explain. I need to go to the studio.”

“It’s a bit late for painting?”

“I know it sounds dumb. I just have to go.”

“Well, I will keep you company.”

“No, Sara! I need to be alone right now.”

Lena got up and straightened herself up. She disappeared into the studio and locked the door behind her.

Sara listened at the door for a while, she could hear her estranged friend panting and moving around inside. For the first time in their friendship, Sara felt she got a sexual vibe between them. It was subtle, but it was there.

Oh, daemons. Oh, daemons take my soul. I want her … give her to me.


Lena awoke on the floor of her studio. She was still naked and covered in the residue of her frantic painting. It had been like a trace. An uncontrollable hypnotic trance – that’s the only way she could describe it.

As she got to her feet she looked around the studio. Her canvas had been repainted again. She could barely even remember doing it. It had been like a spirit working through her, taking over her body, with an unstoppable and uncontrollable force.

Every surface was covered with fornication.

Oh God, what have I done? I must be possessed! Oh my God!

The sadistic paintings depicted daemons, dark-skinned transsexual daemons with large, thick cocks all stabbing their victims as they sodomized an unfortunately outnumbered group of male and female angels. It was a cornucopia of heaving, voluptuous flesh … a debauched orgy of perverse worship. At the centerpiece of a large canvas … A tall naked daemon that she recognized was Satan. He was masturbating his enormous cock. Lena felt a total sensory overload. The words replayed in her mind…

Worship his loins. Worship Satan’s cock.

Lena slowly knelt down and began to finger herself feverishly — her mind swirled in the dark dream that had possessed her. She began to buck wildly as she fantasized about her oldest and dearest friend. She wanted to do nasty things … she wanted Sara to do nasty things … she wanted them both to sin together as lovers … and defy their uncaring God … to worship a new God, one who encouraged their open fornication …

Oh Mother Mary, please forgive me for my sluttish thoughts …

Suddenly, without warning the door burst open. It was Sara. She just stared at the scene before her. She was speechless.

Oh God, what have I done? I prayed to the devil and he has heard me. Oh God, I have corrupted my love … my poor Lena … this is all my doing. I have sinned against heaven and now we will both go straight to hell.



He who sins is of the devil, for the devil has been sinning from the beginning. In this the children of God are revealed, and the children of the devil — I John 3:8-10

The church pews felt cold. Lena and Sara fidgeted nervously as Father Dominic made a call. It was not a number he had called before, but under the circumstances, he felt it was his solemn responsibility. There were souls at stake.

Lord have mercy, I hope we are not too late.

Father Dominic, like many other clergy openly acknowledged the fact that Satan is alive and well, tormenting and destroying souls. But many would not go as far as believing in possession and they were afraid to believe that it could occur. It seemed ironic to him that most of his parish feared Satan and what he could do to them, more than they believed in God who could do all things.

The phone clicked at the other end.

“I will be there this afternoon,” concluded the somber voice.

The voice had been from the church ministry, a vague contact that most priests knew, but hoped they never had to call — a special priest, one who understood the true nature of daemons and knew how to exorcise them.

“It is done. You both shall remain here under my vigilance. Our world has become a playground of sin, pornography, homosexuality, drugs, and alcohol. There are so many instruments to spread Satanic messages on television, internet, radio, music, and even the clothing you wear; thus we are all exposed to a multitude of temptations and are wide open to the suggestions of evil.”

The girls said nothing. They shivered and continued to stare at the ground between their feet.

Lena sobbed quietly.

Hell, I am going to hell. To think it, to desire it, is as good as the actual sin itself. And to know it is a sin and still desire it is absolutely unforgivable.

Sara’s guilt burned inside her chest.

What have I done? I’ve turned away from god. I solicited the devil. There is no saving my soul — but I must help Lena.

“Father Damien is a priest of the Benedictine order. An ancient sect of the church, one of the remaining orders to perform exorcisms,” assured the nervous priest wiping the brow with the edge of his sash.


He is here.

It both filled Lena with both relief and dread. Father Dominic had never met this Benedictine priest and was probably not going to either. Father Damien had requested a meeting with his ‘patients’ strictly alone — it had all sounded very cloak and dagger. They were to wait at their basement apartment, separately. No contact with each other. His instructions had been very specific.

It was already early evening by this time and Lena hesitantly opened the front door to their basement apartment. The dark figure stood, silhouetted by the street lights, in the stairwell with a small bag in his left hand and a heavy leather-bound book in the other.

“Ms. Lena?”

A statement or a question, Lena wasn’t sure, but she felt an uncomfortable aura about this man, that seemed to draw her towards him.

“Lena, I am Father Damien. I am here at the request of your priest, Father Dominic.”

He stepped forward into the light of the apartment hallway. Lena’s heart skipped a beat as she held the door open. His face was very familiar. His youthful attractiveness was more than easy on Lena’s eye. She shook her head to snap out of this thought — the attraction was not an appropriate response under grave circumstances. She gingerly gestured and stepped aside to allow him to enter their apartment.

“Are we alone?”

“Yes … Father Damien,” answered Lena nervously.

Even saying his name felt sexual.

“Where is Ms. Sara?”

“Sara is … in her room … as you instructed.”

Lena lifted a finger and pointed to the closed door to Sara’s room.

He nodded in acknowledgment.

“Father Dominic has explained the situation. Everything will be as it should be.

You have nothing to fear … if you are truthful with me and do exactly as I tell you to do.”

“Yes of course Father.”

Father Damien, looked around the house.

“The Studio?”

He pointed to the closed door.

“Yes, Father.”

He opened the door to the studio and looked upon Lena’s painting.

“I will need to cleanse the room first.”

Father Damien stepped into the room. Lena went to follow him, but he quickly held his hand up, indicating her to stay put. She did. She watched from the doorway as the Father turned slowly as he chanted …

“Omis virtus adversarii, omnis exceritus diaboli, omnis incúrus, omne phatasma Satanæ eradicare … All power of the adversary, all diabolical armies, all hostile attack, eliminating every satanic apparition … Uf fiat ómnibus, qui eo usuri sunt, salus menti et corporis … and all who would use this would have the health of mind and body.”

Lena watched the Father sprinkle what looked like holy water around the room and opening his doctor-like bag, he retrieved a long rosary and wooden cross, wrapped in the Benedictine purple sash.

“You will wait in here. Kneel before this cross and contemplate your evil deeds. I will speak to Ms. Sara first. When I am ready for you, I will return. You will stay there until I am ready for you. You will not leave the room, unless I call you, no matter what happens. Are we clear?”

“Ye-s-s Father.”

Father Damien watched Lena do as he had told her. He knew she was scared, if not petrified. He could smell her fear. She would obey him in every way. He looked upon the evil painting — the devil’s work indeed. When the door to the studio was closed, Father Damien knocked lightly on Sara’s door.

The latch clicked and the door opened to reveal a scared young face behind it. She scowled at the sight of Father Damien, who pushed the door inwards as Sara stepped back even further into the darkened room.

“Ms. Sara.” said the Priest.

His authoritarian voice sounded like a magistrate about to deliver a guilty verdict.

“Yes, Father.”

“Ms. Sara, you know who I am.”

“Yes …. You must be Father Damien, the Benedictine exorcist?” answered Sara, with a quivering voice.

“Ms. Sara, sit down.”

The Father pointed to her unmade bed. Father Damien closed the door making the room even darker. Only the flicker of a few tea lights illuminated the trashed bedroom.

Sara sat down and looked up at the strikingly handsome priest.

“Why am I here?”

She pondered his line of questioning but wasn’t sure if she clearly understood the answer.

“Father, this is all … my fault! I have brought this upon us both!”

She was weeping into her open hands. The Father sat down next to the crying girl and put his hand beneath her chin. As he pulled her chin towards him, she looked into the priest’s face. His hands were damp from her sobbing tears.

“Ms. Sara … do you understand what possession is?”

Sara shook her head.

“Ms. Sara … possession is when an evil spirit enters and takes over the physical and mental capabilities of a victim.”

Sara held her hands together as if praying.

“However Ms. Sara, the soul will remain free. Satan acts through the victim without the victim’s consent, thus the victim is morally blameless. Satan does not act alone when he possesses an individual. He works side by side with many other evil spirits such as the demons of lust, greed, sexual perversion, blasphemy, incest, sodomy, homosexuality … sin is everywhere Ms. Sara, sin in every shape and form.”

The Priest wiped the tears from her eyes.

“But I am not here to assign blame, Ms. Sara. How can it be your fault if you are merely a victim Ms. Sara? A victim who has been manipulated by a wicked and perverted sex daemon without your consent?”

Sara saw a glimmer of hope for her soul; a hope that she would not be drawn into an eternal punishment for her transgressions; but she also knew in her heart of hearts that it was not true. She was not a victim … she had lusted after her friend and had committed herself to the path of inevitable evil.

“You need help, Ms. Sara. You do want me to help you, Ms. Sara? To get what you want?’

He grinned at her. It was not the look she had expected of a holy man … certainly not a Benedictine Priest sent to exorcise the evil daemons that supposedly processed her. Sara could see that in his mesmerizingly attractive eyes, glowing in the low light. It was as if he was teasing or playing with her emotions. Not like her savior, but more like a predator and its prey.

He picked up her diary. She looked in horror as he read its contents, casually to himself.

“You want me to help you get Ms. Lena, don’t you? …. You want her don’t you?”

Sara hesitantly nodded as she measured his words, almost afraid of what they meant, but excited but what they could mean.

He sees right through me. He knows everything. He knows my secret lusts!

Deep and bitter guilt was the first feeling; a sinking into purgatory … and then relief, as of a weight lifted from her shoulders. An incredible burden has suddenly vanished into thin air. Now she felt a strange sense of empowerment. Did she really hear what she heard?

“But Father, I don’t understand?” she timidly pretended.

The Priest licked his lips and stroked her head slowly.

“Oh, Ms. Sara, don’t be coy.”

His hand traced the wetness of her face with his slender finger and then pushed it into her open mouth – he drew it back and forth between her lips.

“Don’t you know, we take care of our own? We want you to have what your heart desires – we know and understand you truly, Ms. Sara.”

His smile disappeared.

“A simple choice Ms. Sara, this is what I offer you. You have the choice … on one hand, I make this all go away … you can return to your unfulfilled, pathetic, and chaste life under the caring eye of Father Dominic … or …”

The Father placed one hand around her small shapely breast and the other hand on the back of her neck.

“You can help me, to help yourself …”

The priest opened his dark robe.

She had already made the choice.

“Repeat after me: Ave Satanus princeps tenebrarum.”

“Ave Satanus princeps tenebrarum,” repeated Sara almost in a whisper …

“Ducere nos in tentationem.”

“Ducere nos in tentationem.”

This time she sounded a little more confident …

“Hail Satan the Prince of Darkness. Lead us into temptation,” translated the priest, as he pushed her head downwards upon his erect penis.

Hail Satan the prince of darkness, and lead us into temptation.

“We will require a soul … a young and pure soul … your sibling … he must bow before Satan and be offered to me.”

Sara nodded without hesitation.

“Then we have an understanding.”

“Yes, Father…”

“Call me … Master.”

“Yes, Master.”

Sara sank her slutty wet mouth around the girth of the evil priest’s throbbing cock and took its veined length into the back of her throat, as she had done with many of Lena’s so-called boyfriends — they hadn’t been good enough to touch her Lena, but soon Lena would be Sara’s … her most debauched and perverted fantasies would soon be fulfilled with Lena … a willing and subservient Lena …


Lena waited patiently. She thought about strange feelings about this Benedictine priest. He was here to help them — to save their souls from eternal damnation, to pull them back from the edge of the bottomless precipice. Darkness surrounded her.

His face looked so familiar.

But Lena couldn’t join the dots yet.

She heard some faint panting and grunting sounds coming from next door in Sara’s room. Curiosity drove her to put an ear to the wall. She got an empty glass from the nightstand and tried to see if it helped … she could hear muffled groans that sounded rather animalistic. The process of redemption sounded grotesque.

His face reminds me of someone.

Finally, there was a knock on the door and the attractive priest let himself into her studio.

The priest arranged some black candles and lit them one by one.

Please save my soul

“Ms. Lena your skill as a painter is admirable. Your abilities are simply masterful. But the subject manner?”

“Father, I don’t even remember painting … it was as if I was in a trance.”

“Yes Ms. Lena, I understand. Daemons are very clever. They can deceive and trick even the clergy. I fully appreciate your predicament and what you did was almost as if you were sleepwalking.”

“YES! YES! Father.”

This explanation made perfect sense. She could not be blamed for something she did in an unconscious dream state. Her heart lifted and was warmed by the Priest’s affectionate touch.

“But Ms. Lena, I don’t understand. What happened after you painted them? Didn’t something else happen? Something that you’re very aware of?”

Her heart sank like a rock.

“I don’t know what came over me … I felt strange.”

“You knelt before the painting. The paint wasn’t even dry and you knelt before it naked and wanton.”

Lena was panicking. Her heart rate rose dramatically. It was as if the blood had drained from her face …

“Show me, Ms. Sara. Show me how you knelt and offered homage to the Devil,” he ordered.

Lena was like a rabbit caught in the headlights of an oncoming freight train.

“Were you not naked and aroused Ms. Lena?”

“Yes, but …”

“Show me! Show me now. Show me exactly how you knelt and offered homage to the Devil!”

The Priest sounded very irritated by Lena’s lack of cooperation to this point. She felt embarrassed and stupid but did as he told her. She knelt down before the dark canvas.

“Lena … were you dressed at the time?’ it was a mocking comment, “I said I want to see how you offered yourself! Do it now … you fucking bitch!”

She slipped out of her clothing. She was embarrassed and highly conscious of her nakedness. She felt truly stripped and naked, both literally and spiritually.

“I don’t understand … how this will help,” she protested as she tried to remember what she had done. “Please Father …” she began to beg.

“You seek repentance, faith, and forgiveness, but I have seen your perversity and blasphemy – these depictions of great perverse evil, that you have danced naked, wanton, and masturbated yourself too … and incited the Satanic spirits to possess you and Ms. Sara …”

Lena began to weep again.

“I’m so sorry … I just didn’t know what I was doing …”

“You knew exactly what you were doing and you willfully blasphemed … so show me now, if you want to save your friend from the pain of eternal damnation. Show me exactly what you did Ms. Lena.”

Lena’s eyes pleaded with the aggressive Priest. She was both scared and unexplainably excited.

His face reminds me of my painting. Oh my god! It’s him. It’s the daemon in my painting…

Lena felt the most awkward she had ever felt in all her life. This was like getting caught with your fingers in the cookie jar… but somehow being caught had a surprisingly erotic outcome. She began to pump her hips back and forth, as she continued to cry. Her fingers began to touch her naked breasts and then pussy… and her dirty anus

“I am not convinced that you want to save Ms. Sara. No, I think that you believe this to be some kind of bad joke. That somehow you can commit a mortal sin – worship a graven image of the devil … masturbate … fornicate and expect not to suffer the consequences of your actions! Stop crying. Show the devil that you want your friend’s salvation … even if the price is your own damnation slut.”

Lena’s body began to respond, despite her mind fighting to hang onto her sliver of sanity. The pleasure of SIN began to fill her mind and body.

“Make me believe in you mean it … do it with gusto … with GUSTO!”

Lena thrust her pelvis out as she finger-fucked herself faster. She felt even nastier in front of the daemon priest … as she felt an uncontrollable passion welling up inside her and having an audience seemed to amplify the deviant pleasures as she openly prayed in obscenities to Satan.

“Ohhhhhh … Fuck me SATAN. Ohhhhhh … Fuck me all you DAEMONS of lust. Come violate my virgin cunt and rectum with your vile seed. Ohhhhh… Fuck my mouth, so I my taste the foulness of your semen.”



Without deviance from normality, there can be no progress — Frank Zappa

Behind her, the audience of two watched with wicked delight.

When I have so corrupted this fragile thing and brought out a writhing, mewling, bucking, wanton whore for my enjoyment and pleasure … enticing from within this feral lioness …growling and scratching and biting … taking everything I dish out to her … at that moment she is never more beautiful to me. Marquis de Sade

The daemon that had been thinly disguised as Father Damien, enjoyed the last dying moments of her loss of innocence. Besides him knelt Sara, naked and wanton as she watched the object of her deepest affections perform her masturbation dance for her evil god – her Master had kept his promise, and soon Lena would be hers to fornicate with. There had been years upon years of pent-up frustrations, chastity, and sexual denial.

Lena, soon you will be licking me out. I can’t wait to smother you and soak your face in my cunt juices … use your tongue to bring me the best orgasms of my entire life …

The moment she had been waiting for, longing for was close to unfolding. The price would be the soul of her sibling that she gladly gave in return for the fulfillment of her lustful and perverted desires.

“Ms. Sara, you are one of us now. Take your time and enjoy this moment. There is no need to rush. Enjoy the euphoria of SIN. Soon Ms. Lena will be your willing sex slave.”

“Master, words cannot describe this feeling.”

“Praise to the savior, Satan, for the forbidden fruits are plenty upon his harvest of SIN … tomorrow night, you must arrange for your sibling to stay over … and then upon his offering, Ms. Lena will bow down before you; eager to perform every vulgarity imaginable … blossoming to satisfy your hunger for her untainted flesh.”

“Master, may I touch myself?”

“Of course my dear and let’s not leave that pretty mouth empty.”

The daemon pulled her towards his sweaty grotesquely hanging ball sacks. She eagerly nestled up against him.

“Please your Master.”


Sammy ran to the arms of his half-sister, Sara. Though he was 12 years old, his small frame made him look even younger than he actually was.

“Hi, Sis.”

“How’s it going Sam?”

“Okay. Mom said to say hi.”

“Did she?” Sara frowned.

“Thanks for letting me sleep over. It is really going to be cool, being away from Mom and Dad. Can we stay up all night?”

“Yes Sam, we probably will.”

A small price to pay for the crown jewels …

“Come inside, I’ve run the bath.”

“I don’t take baths anymore. We have showers …”

“Well our shower is not working, so you need to take a bath before we … have some real fun … you like games right?”

“Sure. Cool.”

Sammy ran into the bathroom, and Sara followed. She had imagined using him in her sex games many times in fantasy – forcing him to perform disgusting and degrading things to satisfy her lust. She paused for a second, as she watched his reflection in the bathroom mirror as he changed, oblivious to her carnal thoughts and desires. She remembered the daemon’s words …

There is no need to rush. Enjoy the euphoria of sin.

She smiled to herself, at his slim boyish figure. She noticed his little boner pointing upward towards the ceiling, as he jumped into the bath water. She contemplated her approach. First, she would take a washcloth and rub his back, shoulders, and chest – and then wash him between the legs. She would allow the rough material of the washcloth to wrap around his little erection and then ever so slowly, begin to masturbate him through the material. Her heartbeat pounded in her chest. To think that Father Dominic had sent this special priest, unknowingly – the irony was that she did feel free; freer than ever before in her life; free to pursue the explore and discover a whole new world of blasphemy and perversity.

“I need to pee.” announced Sammy.

“Then do it in the bath.”

“Mom would say that’s disgusting.”


Sammy laughed. He liked her wicked encouragement from her renegade half-sister. Despite his initial shyness about allowing his big sister to see his penis in an erect state, the excitement of the moment took over.

“Watch what I can do.”

Sammy raised his hips above the waterline so that his erection was clearly in view and aiming his hard little penis upwards he squeezed out a short burst of his yellowish fountain that splashed everywhere. Sammy looked at Sara and grinned wildly.

“Now that looks fun. When did you learn to do that?”

‘“Dunno, just learn I guess. Gross huh?”

“Do some more. Do lots more. See how high you can go.”

“But I might get it on myself.”

“It’s only like water silly. You can wash it off right.”

“Yeah, suppose so.”

Sara was crouching next to the bath, secretly fingering herself during the whole process.

He will be easy to turn. I will have him worshiping Satan between my legs by the end of the night.

“Wait. Can I aim it for you?” asked Sara timidly.

“You want to?” answered Sammy in an excited tone.

“Yeah, let’s see how high you can pee.”

Sara reached over the bath rim and for the first time touched her half-brother’s erect penis. It was hot and slippery from the bath water. She pulled the foreskin back and aimed it vertically.

“Piss you dirty little pig.”

Sammy giggled; he liked her dirty language and let go of another burst of pee.

Sara twisted the base of his penis, so that it sprayed over herself, soaking her thin white braless top, speckling it with light yellow dots. She licked her lips and could taste the boy’s pee.

There is no need to rush. Enjoy the euphoria of sin.

“Oops. You nasty fuck.”

They both laughed. Sara had two fingers of her other hand jammed in her wet cunt as she leaned against the rim of the bath for support.

“Er. You got pee-pee on your face,” laughed Sammy.

‘“I’m all wet. Now I will have to get washed in the bath.”

This was unexpected but gave Sammy a whole new thrill. He was going to see his hot sister without her clothes on.

Continuing the game, Sara stripped slowly from her damp clothes. She noticed that her sibling was watching with great interest as she performed her little striptease. First her breasts and then her shaved cunt, Sammy just stared in disbelief. Sara acted it out as if it was just a strange but innocent game at bath time between siblings.

Stepping into the lukewarm bath water, she pretended not to notice her half-brother’s eyes as they roamed over her body with pre-teen lust.

“Come on let’s do something really nasty. Wanna try and piss in my mouth?” she added.

Sammy didn’t hesitate as he lifted his waistline upwards. He liked his big sister’s confident fingers wrapped around his dick and looking at her facing him naked in the bath was by no means normal. He was about to urinate into her mouth – all sorts of naughty possibilities filled his mind.

Instead of simply holding and directing her sibling’s cock, Sara now was masturbating on him. His eyes rolled back and a low moan escaped his parted lips.

“Piss in my mouth Sammy” commanded Sara.

She watched the wriggling little boy, as she moved her thumb and forefinger faster. Sara closed her mouth around his cock as he pissed into her eager mouth. The tangy taste of boy piss was an overwhelmingly pleasurable victory. As the urine filled her mouth, she allowed it to flow out of the sides of her mouth as her fingers continued to stimulate Sammy’s cock.

He couldn’t pee anymore. He saw Sara lick her lips as if she’d just quenched her thirst for the most expensive champagne. She stopped rubbing his cock and stood up over Sammy.

‘I need to pee’ said Sara.

It was his turn. Sammy wanted Sara to continue to masturbate him and intuitively knew that if he did what she said, he would get more.

As Sara’s piss started its amber cascade from her slit, Sammy watched it. He put his hand into the warm flow and brought it to his mouth, he licked the palm of his hand and tasted her urine for the first time. It was disgusting and vile – but he loved it. He leaned forward, opening his mouth under the piss stream so that it drenched him and filled his mouth.

“Dirty little devil.”

Sara stepped from the bath and with one hand wrapped around her sibling’s cock, she lead him out of the bathroom and into her bed. No words were exchanged between them. Both their bodies were still wet with piss as she pulled him down onto the white bed sheets. Without releasing her grip on his cock, she lay over him in a sixty-nine position and pushed her urine-flavored pussy into his mouth. Sammy sucked and licked his half-sister’s slit as she took his entire cock and balls into her hot mouth. She pushed against his bladder and he pissed into her mouth as she pissed into his face.

Sara loved this new feeling of corruption. It gave her an overwhelming sense of power; a primal feeling of dominance that made her wet and excited from head to toe. She knew that had done something so morally wrong and completely unnatural … she wanted more …

Satan the true God has shown me the way …


Father Dominic paced back and forth across the refectory floor. He clearly heard Father Damien’s words and understood what he was to do. No contact, no interference unless Father Damien expressly requested it. Who was this mysterious Benedictine priest? He felt acutely uncomfortable.

I must have faith. I must be patient.

This didn’t stop the worry and concern for these two sinners. Their precious souls hung in the balance between good and evil, between redemption and corruption.

I must pray for their souls. I have done the right thing to call the Benedictines. They are the experts and know what to do.

He knelt in the coolness of the chapel and prayed. The anxiety he felt just did not seem to let him be.

The good Father looked upwards towards the painted frescos of saints and angels as they gave glorious praise to the one and only almighty god. The gold glistened against the aged medieval paintings that had lost their luster of many centuries. Father Dominic wondered if it was the same with faith itself. Had the power and the glory of God, dulled over the centuries too? Had this created the opportunity for wickedness to gain a foothold in his community? What evil processes young women to lose their path? There were so many unanswered questions. So much he did not understand.

Maybe I should just drive by. Maybe I should just give it another twenty-four hours – I am sure I will receive a call from Father Damien soon.

He returned to his pacing for a while, but with every passing moment, the disquiet increased. The Father grabbed his rosary and small Bible; he decided that a brisk walk in the cemetery would help him calm his nerves. The evening air was cooling. Long shadows punched the grey forest of tombstones with dark recesses. As the sun disappeared the silhouettes grew and merged together.

Father Dominic felt a fear that he had never experienced before. As if an evil haze had reached out to consume goodness in its somber secrecy. Evil shadows twisted and morphed with the ghoulish gargoyles.

No, things were not right. He felt his discomfort was justified. He would need to find out what was happening. No matter what the Benedictine Priest had ordered, it was his parish… his community… his responsibility.


The daemon that was once Father Damien sat naked in a large armchair in the darkened studio with one leg thrown over the armrest. The sound of his rhythmical breathing echoed back and forth in the room, like a tom-tom beating slowly and persistently. The only light in the basement studio came from the black candles made from the fat of sacrificed babies and the oil lamps that burnt with a potent mixture of musk, camphor oil, almond oil, and other secret herbs that added further aphrodisiac qualities. He rubbed his oily hard cock while he observed.

Sara opened the door and entered with her half-brother in tow. They were both naked and glistened in the lamplight with amber droplets and the hit of the aroma of urea. She led to the center of the room and stopped in front of Lena’s painting of the daemon.

Sara whispered something into Sammy’s ear and he knelt before the graven image of Satan and began to slowly masturbate his stiff little cock.

The daemon stood over him.

“You are truly a witch of means. You will consummate your allegiance to the Prince of Darkness.”

He led Lena, who was covered in a dark net vale to stand before Sara. As the daemon chanted, Lena translated, her soft feminine voice sounded out of place with the words that passed her lips.

“Ave Satanus princeps tenebrarum, ducere nos in tentationem.”

“Hail Satan the Prince of Darkness, to lead us in temptation.”

“Omnipotens Deus carnis. Adoramus lumbis.”

“Almighty God, of the flesh. We worship his loins.”

“Deus sodomitico, sacramentum sumatur urinae.”

“The God of sodomy, the sacrament of urine is taken.”

“Pravitas facere, propter nomen tuum.”

“To do the perversity, for the sake of thy name.”

“Accipe sacrificium libidinem.”

“Receive the sacrifice of lust.”

The daemon grinned at Sara … taunting her, as if to milk the last dying moments of her fulfillment … slowly he pulled the dark vale away from Lena to reveal her face and body. The sound of the tom-tom beating of the daemon’s breathing seemed to move up a notch and was louder and more urgent. Her eyes burned with evil intent. Her hair had been cut short and dyed black. Around her neck was a thick studded leather dog collar and just below it on her chest hung an inverted cross. Her nipples stood dark and proud. Her vagina lips were disdained, thick and fully aroused; her pubic area had been completely shaved and her body oiled so that in glowed with slickness in the low light of the flickering lamps.

Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!

Sara looked upon Lena with pure lust that she could no longer contain.

“Who giveth the soul of this young virgin boy to me?” Asked the daemon in a ritual chant as he lifted the boy effortlessly so that his virgin anus was but an inch above the daemon’s steel-hard cock.

“I willing give to you my flesh and blood. My sibling for a sacrificial offering to the Prince of Darkness, Lord of Hell.”

The daemon grimaced and moaned lewdly with bright gritted teeth as he lowered the boy downwards upon himself. Sammy’s legs dangled limply on either side as the powerful daemon began to impale the boy’s fragile body upon his thick-veined demon cock …

“Please no … it’s too big!” screamed the helpless boy.

The daemon’s enormous erection pushed hard upwards against the brown flower of the boy’s rectum as he placed his hands upon Sammy’s shoulders and began to force him downwards.

“Arrrrggghhhhhhh! … Nooooo! …. Urrrggggghhhhh!” screamed Sammy.

Sara watched with perverted excitement as the daemon penetrated her tortured sibling. She pulled Lena to kneel before her on the floor. Her cunt was itchy and hot.

“Lick my cunt bitch. Lick my cunt now!” commanded Sara.

Her obedient slave knelt before her devilish mistress and looked upwards in complete sexual adoration. She wanted it … to taste Sara’s dirty fucking pussy. Her tongue gently lapped at Sara’s erect clit as her juices flowed thickly down across her chin.

“Suck my cunt” screamed Sara.

Her hands pulled Lena’s face hard against her open pussy lips and dragged her sticky hole up and down Lena’s face. She moaned lewdly, getting off on Lena’s absolute obedience. This was the beginning. She would make Lena become a perverted sex toy for her to exclusively abuse.

Lena’s mind was filled with a new yearning. She wanted to please her evil Mistress, to worship her as she did the evil creatures that filled her mind with visions of perverted bliss. There was no going back. The old Lena was dead. The new Lena only lived for blasphemous bliss.

Her mouth fell upon Sara’s open snatch, and her fingers opened the flower wide so that she could suck Sara’s pussy nectar while pushing her tongue as far as she could inside Sara’s steamy cunt. She loudly slurped between her evil lover’s legs. As she sucked Sara’s clit, Sara thrashed from side to side as her hands and fingers gripped Lena’s shoulders for support. Sara had cum continuously for several minutes and her orgasmic vibrations rippled through Lena, the source of her pleasure.

They are ready.

The daemon fucked Sammy enjoying his suffering and agony.

“Hail Satan the Prince of Darkness, and lead us into temptation … give me my cock daemons!”

A cascade of fluid washed across Lena’s face, dripping from her chin and onto her breasts. Lena felt Sara’s vagina open as if something was emerging from within her body. She stopped and feel backward.

From between her open pussy lips, emerged the head of an obscene appendage; it pushed forward from between her cunt lips; extending outwards and curving upwards, its veined shaft into view.

Lena looked down, seeing the new cock for the first time, she knew this was a gift of the daemon. Just like the daemons in Lena’s painting. It pulsated and moved as she swayed her hips from side to side. She had to touch it hesitantly at first as she admired its girth and oily ribbed length.


The pleasure flowed through her new cock as she took it in both hands, fondled its length as it continued to extend until it reached over ten inches in length.

I am a cock daemon. A fucking cock daemon.

Sara regained her balance, only to find between her upward thrusting hips the head of something also emerging from between her cunt lips. She began to convulse in exotic waves of immense sexual pleasure, as she too soon looked down at her equally obscene appendage.

“Disciples … come to me … serve your master …” bellowed the daemon as Sammy hung flaccidly upon his impaler.


Father Dominic stood outside the basement apartment. The dark street was silent and completely deserted. Only the wind seemed to move, blowing the remnants of a newspaper across the adjacent empty parking lot. There were no signs of life. It was as if the evil specter had stopped time itself.

Armed with only the strength of his convictions and the grace of his pious beliefs, Father Dominic placed his hand nervously on the handle of the basement door. The fluorescent tubes buzzed annoyingly in the ceiling space above the doorway, as they flickered on and off intermittently like a faulty camera flash.

The good Father took a deep breath, opened the door slowly, and stepped inside. His ears were filled with the sound of the rhythmical heavy breathing of the daemon. He covered his ears and pressed on into the hallway towards the burning lights from within the studio.

I must help Father Damien. We must together save the innocent ones.

Father Dominic, at first was besieged by the attack upon his senses. The scene that confronted him was beyond his comprehension … the smell of evil filled his nostrils; the satanic images across the painting; and the orgy of three sex demons consuming an innocent young boy was simply overwhelming… what had gone wrong? How had the exorcism failed? Where was Father Damien?

At first daemon monster was too preoccupied with the intense pleasures of the sacrifice of flesh to notice the lone priest enter the basement studio.

“Stop in the name of God,” screamed the priest at the evil being.

Momentarily, the daemon discontinued his relentlessly thrusting of the limp naked boy upon his cock. He stared with pure malice at the priest and laughed out loud, as his two cock daemons continued to pleasure themselves at his feet.

Father Dominic picked up one of the thick black blood candles and hurled it towards the wet oil painting, which immediately caught fire in a spectacular combustion.

“NO!” screamed the daemon.

He immediately dropped the boy in an effort to stop Father Dominic, but it was already too late. The evil power of Lena’s painting spontaneously broke as flames quickly consumed it.

The daemon’s rage boiled in the realization of what had happened, but even as he tried to regain control, he too began to burn vigorously.

The two girls had collapsed … their obscene appendages shriveled as they returned to their original human form.

Father Dominic stepped over them and grabbed the unconscious boy from the floor. Pulling back and exiting back into the hallway he coughed in the choking fumes … the burning daemon’s shrill-like screams pierced his eardrums until they bleed … but he kept going, dragged the limp naked body of the boy outside.

Father Dominic collapsed on the pavement outside, his lungs filled with the caustic fumes. All around him, the street had become alive with panicking people. Fire and black smoke bellowed from the thin basement windows and the sound of fire trucks and ambulances wailed as the fire spread and engulfed the entire block.




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