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: Blasphemy, Sacrilege, Young, Incest, Rape, Sadism, Sexual Torture, WS, Scat, Supernatural, Demonic, Satanic, Abuse, Corruption, Evil, Devil Worship, NC, Sexual Sin, Sex Demons.

CREATED: 31.10.2019 / REVISITED: 23.07.2023

Five Demons 1


Spoiler Alert!

We’ve all seen A Christmas Carol. A ghost story of Christmas. This novella by Charles Dickens was first published in London in 1843. It recounts the story of Scrooge, who is visited by the spirits of Christmas Past, Present, and Yet to Come. After their visits, Scrooge is pleasantly transformed and everyone lives happily ever after…

Well, this ain’t that story.

Five Demons is a story of a pious cenobitic priest, who over time has become disillusioned with the whole ‘Heaven and Hell’ thing. And in this delicate time, as his faith falters, he is visited via his dreams (or nightmares) by five demons. Transported to different times of his life, the demons have been sent to increasingly corrupt his heart, mind, and soul. Eventually, as the last bastions of his faith are lost, will he be finally liberated and willingly becomes a servant of Satan in Hell?


His name was Brother Alp and he was a simple cenobitic monk that followed the traditions of early Christians and adhered to the strict ruling as prescribed by St.Bruno of Cologne. At thirty years old, he had spent most of his adult life, dedicated to the monastery library.

Brother Alp was one of the seven monks charged with the boring and tedious work among the books and manuscripts of the huge monastery library. It was said there were over twenty-seven thousand volumes. He would refile the valuable publications that were surveyed and referenced by the most senior of the Holy Fathers.

Brother Alp had lived a pious life. He had dedicated himself to his faith and had become adept at Latin and even some of the more obscure and exotic written languages like Syrian, Arabic, Copic, and Ge’ez. But Alp lacked the ambition to be anything more than he was. The library was his life’s lot or so he thought.

Maybe it was nothing. Maybe nothing more than a passing phase, but Alp had found himself wondering about his life and his faith. The Five Holy Fathers sometimes called it the ‘Questing’ and it was exactly like that for Brother Alp. The constant battle between Heaven and Hell. The angels and the demons. What was God’s plan for the world? What was God’s plan for him? He prayed hard in the hope of enlightenment – but none came.

On one particular occasion, Alp had been refiling a few of the rarer publications in the Reserved Section of the library. It was usually off-limits to the lesser monks (like him) – as some of the text was said to be subversive, even blasphemous. Not that he had taken much prior notice, but Brother Alp did sometimes wonder why such controversial material would have been kept by the monastery. Wasn’t it supposed to be a place of holiness? No specifics had been given by the Five Holy Fathers about this. They seemed to discourage such inquiries.

It had been by chance that he had happened upon a strange volume entitled, upon its thick leather spine, ‘Quinque Daemoniorum’, which he translated to literally means, ‘The Five Demons.’ The heavy book was sealed with an archaic metal-locked clasp. He tried to open it to no a vale, but even holding it in his hands, Brother Alp felt a strange prickling sensation that he could not explain – maybe, that he did not want to try to explain. He dutifully filed the publication in its rightful place on the shelves of the Reserved Section and promptly forgot about it.

Or did he?



Masturbation is sex with demons. It defiles and destroys your body and the temple of the Holy Spirit. Masturbation is a spirit – a demon. This spirit of evil and darkness does not come alone, it is accompanied by the spirit of profane lust. The depraved spirit of lust includes lust for eyes, lust for flesh, and lust for perversity.

1 Corinthians Chapter 6:1Versus 8-19 says … “Flee from sexual immorality. Every other sin a man commits is outside his body, but he who sins sexually sins against his own body. Do you not know that your body is a temple of the Holy Spirit who is in you, whom you have received from God? You are not your own.”


“UNUS. UNUS. UNUS,” they chanted.

Crazy. Perplexing. Intoxicating. Vivid and yet illusive. A sweat-drench nightmare of gargantuan proportions. Hideous. Ugly, Verminous.

Father Alp panted as he sucked desperately at the warm air in his private cell. He could smell his own sweaty sourness. His eyes are wide open in the darkness. His heart beating like the drums of Hell itself.

Oh, Father in Heaven. Here my prayer … lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil.

It was an obvious thought. But no voice responded. Nothing. Alone in the grip of his doubts. Alone in his fear. Unknowing what to believe. It was getting worse. More vivid. More perverse. Or was it that he could see clearer?

He pulled the rough flax sheet up around him and pressed his face into the straw-filled sack that served as his crude pillow. There was also the perpetual irritation of his hairshirt. It tortured his naked body, yet his penis remained rampant. Hard as steel. He pressed his face harder into the moss-dampness. He hoped for thoughtless sleep. He welcomed the void. But still, his mind turned over and over. The cross. The suffering. The self-sacrifice. His only son. Oh, Heavenly goodness.


As the dream unfolded, Brother Alp found that he was not himself.

He looked at himself, reflecting back in the disjointed mirror. He blinked in disbelief. Naked. Before him was not a man of thirty years – but the body of an eleven-year-old boy. He watched his reflection touch himself. The skin was so soft. The bones are so fine. His build is lithe. Even his eyes had a glint of naivety, from a simpler time of life.

He looked about his surroundings. The mirror was no longer there. It had vanished. He was now alone without his reflection. In a forest. In a dark forest that smelt of damp things. There was a naturalness, woodiness, and earthiness. Fungus. Rain. He heard the sound of running water. A bird chirped and then it was silent.

Something moved. Wind? Animal? Alp dropped down on his hunches. His eleven-year-old eyes scanned back and forth. Trees, scrubs, and shadows. There were tree trucks in every direction. He felt the uneven undergrowth. The warm dirt against his bare toes.

A dry stick broke with a sharp snap. A whisper.

“Don’t be afraid,” said a voice from the darkness.

Alp was afraid and suddenly felt his own nakedness. He felt exposed and unprotected. He tried to remain as small and hidden as he could. Hoping that he hadn’t been noticed – that the voice from the darkness was not talking to him.

“Don’t be afraid.”

It was a young impish voice.

Alp’s curiosity got the better of him and as he peeped out between the ferns and foliage, he saw a faun-boy. The faun-boy was naked like he was. He leaned casually against the stump of a fallen tree. The faun-boy appeared to be no older than Alp. He blew into a small pan-flute that he was holding in one hand. The melodic sound was high-pitched, sweet, and rather eerie.

Alp stood up slowly.

“There you are, Alp. I’ve been waiting for you.”

He knew his name. Alp was still very unsure.

The faun-boy beckoned him forward and Alp felt a strange magnetism pulling him towards the strange little creature with tiny horns and the hairy hind legs of a goat. He approaches cautiously. The naked faun-boy continued to play his eerie pan-flute with one hand whilst the fingertips of the other hand danced over his erect penis that stood forth from between his fur-covered thighs.

Alp had been brought up to believe that it was a mortal sin to touch one’s own genitals in such a way. Alp’s legs were trembling. Watching the faun-boy stroke his penis and testicles was causing Alp’s own tiny penis to become fully erect. At first, he’d felt self-conscience being erect in front of the faun-boy, but seeing the creature touch himself without any hint of embarrassment, seemed to take away Alp’s awkwardness.

“Rub it,” said the faun-boy, “Rub it, like this.”

The faun-boy boldly demonstrated how he liked to masturbate and pleasure himself.

No longer concerned with his flute, the faun-boy turned to face Alp and closed his fist tightly around his engorged cock that now looked bigger and longer than it had done at first sight.

The faun-boy accentuated his movements. Hard and slow pulses in which he pulled his foreskin back to expose the wet purple crown of his rock-hard cock, then thrusting his closed fist upwards – repeating the movement over and over until globules of clear fluid oozed from the tip.

“Aargh … FUCK YER … mmmm … It feels so … mmmmmm … ”

The young faun-boy groaned, seemingly engrossed in his sinful movements. Alp and the faun-boy were now only a few feet away from each other.

Alp’s fingers gingerly touched himself. He looked inhibited but after watching the ardent faun-boy perform, in only a short while, it was as if his fingers had a mind of their own. His penis tip was wet too, weeping with viscous silky fluids that only seemed to enhance his own self-stimulation. He wanted to groan out loud but still felt too shy. His eyes never left the sight of the faun boy’s throbbing cock, which now seemed larger, redder, fuller, and even wetter. It excited Alp like nothing he’d ever experienced before.

The faun-boy bent his head forward — his pinkish tongue snaked out and glazed over the wet purple tip of his own cock. He licked it, much like Alp would have done whilst enjoying a sweet lollipop.

“Mmmmmm … Oh yer … FUCK! Taste yourself.”

Alp bent forward but could reach his penis and self-suck like the faun-boy. Instead, he settled for bringing two of his moist fingers up to his lips and tasted the slight saltiness upon them. Not unpleasant. He did it again. He liked the way he tasted.

“Come, let’s rub against each other,” suggested the amorous young faun-boy stepping nearer and closing the distance between them, “Let’s be naughty and rub our hard cocks together.”

Alp wasn’t sure about this at all. He was trembling terribly. Then, he felt the soft fur of the faun boy’s groin tingling his bare white thighs. It felt stimulating. The faun-boy wasted no time in pressing their eager groins together. Cock to cock. They began to frot, gently at first and then it began to get more urgent as the sensation built.

“FUCK!” said the faun-boy, “FUCK. FUCK … this is … mmmm … hot!”

Now their cocks rubbed hard directly against one another. Wet flesh against sinful wet flesh. The faun boy’s cock was almost twice the length and girth of Alp’s, but that didn’t seem to matter, as the faun boy’s long fingers closed around both their wet cock shafts and began to rub them both vigorously together.

“Aaaaaaghhh …” gasped Alp, his breath taken away.

He could no longer help himself as they continued to frot wildly against each other. Alp’s heartbeat pounded in his ears like a pagan ritual drum. Though most of the sensations focused on their genitals, Alp couldn’t help being excited about feeling the hairy little faun-boy rubbing against him — their hands roamed across each other as the faun boy’s open mouth pressed against his. Lips and tongues. They twisted together. Alp felt lost in the faun boy’s sinful embrace.

Now, the fan boy’s grasp tightened and increased the speed and veracity in which his small hands thrust up and down their tightly pressed cocks — rubbing their pre-cum wet shafts … faster and faster.

Alp felt a strong tickling sensation rising from below his tight little balls and up the base of his swelling rod. Alp began to buck uncontrollably against the faun-boys stranglehold. The new sensation suddenly hit him in mini shock waves. He began to violently convulse as he approached its peak. It overwhelmed him completely in undulating jerks of forbidden bliss. Alp’s engulfed body literally shivered from head to toe in unfamiliar spasms of his first sexual climax.

A clear torrent of seminal fluids spurted upwards, between them, from the top of Alp’s small cock — splashing over himself and the awaiting faun boy.

“FUCK YER!” groaned the faun boy.

He reciprocated with his own copious flood of hot and spicy jism, directing upwards and over Alp’s face and open lips. The faun boy scooped up Alp’s cum and fed it to him.

“Taste it,” he ordered.

Alp did as the faun-boy commanded. He felt in awe. He was gasping for breath. He was still totally overcome from his first experience of orgasm. The faun-boy tongue kissed Alp roughly and they exchanging more cum and body fluids in the process.

“FUCK! Deliciously hot!” he said as he continued to stimulate Alp, through his post-orgasmic state and keep Alp from going completely soft.


“Come,” said the eager faun boy as he lead Alp towards a small clearing in the forest.

Alp tried his best to keep up with the faun boy’s agile movements as they moved through the dark forest of tree trunks. Up ahead of him, Alp could see a fire. A bright bonfire. The orange and crimson flames leap upwards to lick the dark night sky. As he got closer, he noticed that there were silhouetted figures dancing around the bonfire. Naked figures. Naked young boys, all about the same age as him. The eleven-year-old Alp. He’d almost forgotten what it was like to be thirty years old.

Or had he?

They quickly arrived at the edge of the small clearing that was encircled with strangely carved totem poles grouped together in pairs. It felt like an unholy place. Mischievous. Primitive. Raw.

From the tree line, Alp could observe the dancing figures in more detail. He noticed how long their hair was (they could have been mistaken for girls) and their dance movements were very effete – but then, the sight of their rigid cocks told a very different story.

“My faerie bois,” said the faun boy.

Alp watched. The sissies all rubbed themselves vigorously as they danced dandily. They cried out in lusty high-pitched voices, chanting obscenities and thrusting their slim boy hips back and forth to an indigenous pagan drum that was accompanied by a tambourine and flute. Alp could see the source of the music but felt it arousing.

The faun-boy took Alp’s hand and led him boldly forward.

“Remember now, they are your brethren. And they all worship … me.”

“Worship?” asked Alp.

“Yes, Alp. They worship me as their god. They sometimes call me, Pan.”

“Pan?” said Alp.

It sounded familiar.

“Yes, Pan. Their god of masturbation,” Pan laughed, “But, together, we do a lot more than just masturbate! Fuck yer! I love sissified orgies. Cock worshiping faerie boi orgies. Hail little boy cock! Hail faggot semen! Hail sodomy!”

Pan’s erect cock was now the color of bruises, darker and jackhammer-hard. His flesh dagger looked even bigger than it had done before, with its dripping wet tip and thick-veined shaft of fuck muscle that curved upwards, reaching the middle of his chest. He rubbed it continuously, licking at his own wetness with his long feral tongue.

“Come Alp. Come celebrate with your cock-loving girly brethren,” said Pan.

He grinned devilishly, licking again at the tip of his own cock.

“Hail cock! Hail Pan! Hail the cock god!” cried the naked faerie bois as they realized that Pan, their unholy god, had finally arrived.

“This is Alp,” announced Pan, ”He’s one of you, my prissy children. He seeks the pleasures of Pan. Make him welcome – show him how to worship your delicious cock god!”

Several of the sissies gathered around Alp.

“Welcome Alp,” said one of the most effeminate of the group, as he tilted his head and played with his long dark hair.

His face was alluringly girlish and he moved like a prowling cat. He leaned in and immediately began to kiss Alp on the mouth. His kiss was gentle at first. And then pressing firmer, he mashed their wet lips together as his long faerie boi tongue invaded Alp’s mouth. They kissed and kissed.

“Hail Pan. Cock god,” groaned another of the effeminate faerie bois.

He knelt down in front of Alp and began to fondle Alp’s sensitive ball sacks. Then his lips closed around the head of Alp’s throbbing little cock. Alp groaned uncontrollably into the first faerie boi’s mouth. Alp was in sinful bliss. His mind was a vortex of unnatural desires. Without conscious thought, he started to rock his hips back and forward as he began to fuck the face of the eager mouth in front of him.

“That’s it! Hail your divine cock god!” encouraged Pan.

Alp watched as Pan pressed the head of another of the faerie boi downwards so that his mouth engulfed Pan’s giant penis. It looked grotesque, so big black, and veined as it pressed between the sissy boy’s lipstick-painted lips. The petite boy could get only a few inches of it into his orifice, as it stretched his jaw. Alp guessed that Pan’s cock was at least three times the length and girth of any of the other sissies (himself included). He could wait to take his turn in sucking it too.

Fingers plied Alp’s buttocks apart. He was so caught up with all the attention he was receiving that he felt a hot tongue probing his oily anus. It felt incredible as it burrowed its way up his dirty little shit hole. The tongue was then replaced with a slender digit that twisted and pressed upwards inside his virgin sphincter. One finger became two. Two became three — all pressing directly against his prostate. Soon they were see-sawing in and out as he continued to fuck the face of the kneeling boy.

The throbbing pagan drum beat that had been, up and until now, gaining momentum, suddenly slowed and the faerie bois all disentangled themselves. Pan looked on approvingly as the faerie bois led Alp to one of the twin totems that stood just in the clearing. They took Alp’s hands and with pink ribbons, they secured his wrists to each of the cock poles so that he was now spread-eagled between them. Alp tugged at the restraints, but the pink ribbons held him fast. He felt a moment of panic.

“All hail the cock god,” said the excited sissies.

They each took turns kissing his mouth and fondling Alp as he hung helplessly. Some even squeezed his balls a little too cruelly. They grinned wildly.

“It is time for your first initiation, Alp,” announced Pan.

His dark purple cock glistened with faerie boi saliva.

The gathering of young sissies formed a loose semi-circle around him, as Pan stepped to the rear of the totem poles. The pagan drum pounded loudly as they all began to stroke their angry cocks, faster and faster, as their petite sweetness began to rapidly fade from their sissified features to reveal expressions of sexual desperation.

Alp was horrified at how ugly and gaunt their faces had suddenly become. Now they appeared, not as they had done initially as effeminate young boys, instead, their flesh had sunken back, and their skeletal faces had fixed evil grimaces caught in demoniacal contortion. They bared pointed teeth and sported horns upon their brows. They all growled and howled like wild animals as they continued to thrust their fists, which were tightly wrapped around their cock flesh. Up and down (dug-dugga-dug), up and down (dug-dugga-dug), up and down (dug-dugga-dug) … in time to the hungry pagan beat … as if they were all in some kind of race to be the first to reach orgasm.

“This is going to hurt a bit,” cooed Pan hotly into Alp’s left ear, “No, actually, it’s going to hurt a lot!”

Alp twisted desperately against his bindings that resembled rusted chains instead of pink ribbons. He was covered in his own sourish sweat. His heartbeat was thumping in his ears as loud as the demonic drums (dug-dugga-dug), but still, he heard Pan laugh dementedly from behind him.

The disfigured boys began to orgasm. One-by-one. Their hot salty semen spurted over Alp as he hung helplessly. They never seemed to stop jerking themselves and rubbing their demented flesh, even as they reached orgasm … they continued rubbing to the demonic beat (dug-dugga-dug) … trying to spurt another load over him. He dripped in their seminal offerings.

Alp felt the sharpness of long nails dug painfully into the flesh of his slender hips. Looking down he saw craw-like hands grasp his torso. Strangely his cock remained hard and rampant — pre-cum dripped copiously as his balls tightened as his seed awaited urgent release.

Then, he felt the tip of Pan’s cock press against the tiny hole of his anus.

“But know it,” whispered Pan, “That it is only the beginning of your dark journey to Hell.”





God formed Lilith as the first woman in the same way as he created Adam. The only difference was that in place of pure dust, he used filth. Lilith literally means ‘’the night’ and she is the spirit of fornication, salaciousness, but also fear and terror. She is said to be the demon queen of whoredom … and as such a forbidden sexual partner.

Isaiah 34:14 says … Among the howling and hissing wild creatures and demons, Lilith herself, demoness of the night will call Eden her haunt, A place to recoup and rest between her devastating forays.

Next chapter:



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