DISCLAIMER: The following is fiction. The story’s content does not reflect 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 that 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 portray different ages for the fictional characters they depict, but they remain adults at all times. All Rights Reserved © 2026 LITTLESALLY666.
STORY CODES: Blasphemy, Sacrilege, Young, Rape, Sadism, Sexual Torture, WS, Demonic, Satanic, Abuse, Corruption, Evil, Devil Worship, NC, Sexual Sin, Sex Demons.
CREATED: 02.10.2026 (FINAL)
IX – Hermit
IX – HERMIT – INSPIRATION
My inspiration for this story came from the duality of the characters Sméagol and Gollum, from The Lord of the Rings, and how he seemed to suffer from a split personality, severe addiction, and extreme paranoia. He showed the classic traits of Schizoid Personality Disorder and Dissociative Identity Disorder (DID). For Sméagol, Gollum was his self-nemesis. Simply his own worst enemy, acting as the primary obstacle to Sméagol’s own success, happiness, or goals.
SECRET SEXUAL MEANING BEHIND THE HERMIT TAROT
Rather than a lack of desire, it represents gathering creative and sexual energy inward — expressed through masturbation and self-pleasure. Sexually, it points to a period of the “Held Breath” of Desire. When The Hermit appears — especially if reversed — it speaks to profound psychological fractures. Dual personalities (Dissociative Identity Disorder) involve distinct identity states, while psychosis involves a detachment from shared reality or delusions. The Hermit carries a lantern, illuminating only what is directly in front of him. In DID, this represents an identity state (“alter”) that is currently isolated, hidden away in the subconscious, or keeping vital trauma secrets from the host personality. The Hermit’s lantern can represent this delusion or paranoia. This context warns of a dangerous “Dark Night of the Soul” where isolation turns toxic.
IX – HERMIT – SYNOPSIS (SPOILER ALERT!)
Father Samuel was an effeminate priest in a small but queer neighborhood. Not without his own issues, most times, Samuel cried and bemoaned his destructive self-nemesis, whom he has called “Mistress Retch” (after the choking sound of throwing up). Mistress Retch is a cross-dressing succubus, and Samuel’s worst enemy — always there to make good things turn really bad. However, they meet in a dark, wicked place. Even Samuel couldn’t resist the corruptive power and sexual pleasure that was gained through Mistress Retch’s bizarre behavior toward those she seduced.
CHAPTER ONE — IX – HERMIT (2,038 WORDS)
“I call upon you, Brothers and Sisters of Christ, to rise and face today’s unprecedented challenge to our faith. It is insidious, wicked, and the work of the devil! I am, of course, referring to the RAINBOW PLAGUE of queers, transgenders, cross-dressers, and gays that pollute our communities with their obscenity and foulness!” — Extract from the speech of Archbishop Marek.
xxxxx
The Archbishop stood at the podium. It was a glorious day. The crowded cathedral was bathed in the brilliant light cascading from the huge stained-glass windows, peppered with the colors of the patron saints, the heavenly angels, and the haloed baby Jesus. The choir finished their rendition of “Yield Not to Temptation”.
“Brothers. Sisters,” chanted the Archbishop, “Fellow clergy. I gather you all here today before our Savour, Jesus Christ, and the Father, our Lord Almighty. We face an unprecedented scourge in our community today. I am, of course, referring to the RAINBOW PLAGUE. But like the plagues before, this scourge is polluting our people with corruptive sin, sexual temptation, and sexual perversity. It must be stopped at all costs!
The crowd seemed to murmur but was receptive to his call for action.
“These sodomites must be brought to face the consequences of their actions. Our governments are too lenient — they talk about inclusion, modernity, and acceptance — I say we need to burn these bastards at the stake!”
xxxxx
Samuel. Father Samuel was a slight man. Maybe less than slight, as he seemed malnourished and gaunt. Beneath his gown, his body betrayed the more feminine appeal that his years of HRT had transformed. Many would say that he had a sweet face, beautiful blonde hair, soft features, and pale skin. At almost thirty years old, he came across as a little submissive and effeminate. Not a strong personality. More quiet, reflective, and reserved. Though he seemed eager to seek affirmation and recognition from others, he didn’t really enjoy the crowd.
On the surface, he came across as friendly, with a great deal of restraint, and a sense of Christian morality. His sermons were sometimes rather controversial, but always well prepared, and he preached the word of the Lord with a quiet kind of passion towards tolerance and acceptance.
He had completed his seminary studies when still in his twenties. And then he became a priest in a small but somewhat disparate neighborhood. The place was rather neglected and old, more urban and sleazy, more back-lot, more dull-witted than sophisticated. A place where people could easily just disappear into the crowd.
However, for all Father Samuel’s pluses, he was not easy to read. There was something secretive, deceptive, and hidden behind that affable priestly smile with perfect white teeth. Without saying anything, he came across as a bit gender fluid. Gay. Though it was not disclosed, was there something about his past that suggested that he had suffered some form of sexual abuse as a younger person?
Behind closed doors, he talked a lot to himself, mumbling and cursing, in an irritated manner. It was almost as if there were two Father Samuels. Maybe the one in public believed in doing good but could have been persuaded by his alter ego to do things he knew he should not.
This was the Father Samuel that his congregation saw as a good priest, whereas there was a facet to Father Samuel that hid in the shadows and called herself “Mistress Retch”. Two distinct personalities. Two different attitudes. Most times, Father Samuel cried and bemoaned his destructive self-nemesis. Mistress Retch was often his worst enemy, acting as the primary obstacle to Father Samuel’s own beliefs, code, and Christian goals.
But it must be said, there is a dark and wicked place where they both met. Where they seemed to merge into one, where even Father Samuel couldn’t resist the corrupting power and sexual pleasure that was to be gained through Mistress Retch’s wayward behavior toward those she seduced.
Father Samuel looked at himself in the full-length dressing mirror. His reflection looked back with malice.
“What do you think you’re looking at?” his reflection demanded.
It was Mistress Retch. A cross-dressing succubus. Mistress Retch was wearing her usual short blonde wig with a blunt fringe, dark eyeshadow, a matching open-cup bra, suspender belt, black thigh-high stockings, and high-heeled shoes. Her nipples were hard and dark. Her cock was fully erect. It drooled with sticky precum. She masturbated openly over the open pages of Father Samuel’s Bible, with Father Samuel’s rosary and crucifix hanging loosely around her thick cock shaft.
She smelt of sexual sweat, semen, and urine.
“I look at myself, and I feel only shame,” said Father Samuel.
“Fucking liar. You and that fucking bishop and his Rainbow plague! Fuck yer. Devil-sent! You love it. When we touch ourselves. You cannot resist it. You don’t fool me for a second. Look at you, faggot-sissy. Cock-lover. Sissy whore. Gooning. Playing with yourself for hours. Dressed like a tranny whore. Looking shamelessly at porn. Shemale porn. Gay porn. Bestial porn. Taboo porn. Satanic porn. As you jack off and pray to the Devil.”
“That’s you! Not me. For the love of Christ!” Exclaimed Father Samuel.
Mistress Retch laughed and pissed over her fingers. She loved the smell of piss on her body. The devil’s elixir, she said. Licking her fingers, she then began to rub them against her itchy anus. Her brown flower. She sank two fingers inside her ass-pussy, whilst fucking the shaft of her wet cock against the Holy pages.
“The love of Christ?” mimicked Mistress Retch. “What the fuck does that mean anymore? Your moral compass is so off-true that you don’t see the beauty in the evil and wickedness that you manifest!”
“It’s … it’s … it’s not my fault!” cried Father Samuel.
“You’re so weak. You make me vomit!” scolded Mistress Retch. “You’re such a fucking hypocrite. Sissy-fuck! Pretending that you’re not turned on by what we have in the basement. But you cannot lie to me. I know who you really are. You’re a fucking queer monster, just like me! Admit it! You can’t wait to get your itchy cock up your new altar boy’s asshole.”
“He … he … he needs it!” Protested Father Samuel.
“Yer, keep telling yourself that. Queer fuck! That’s why he’s been missing for weeks. Everyone thinks he’s gone back upstate. Meanwhile, the little fucker is chained to the ceiling of our secret temple in the church cellar, while you wait for the Samhain to take his virginity.”
“Okay, so … “ stuttered Father Samuel, “We both agreed that we wouldn’t … you know … kill him. Not right away. Right? We said to let him show us his willingness to participate in our sex rituals … that we’d stop feeding him if he didn’t do everything we asked.”
“You said that. Not me,” countered Mistress Retch, “I want to sacrifice his pretty little ass. Hail the Baphomet! Fuck Christ! Fuck the Holy Spirit! Once we’ve used him. Used him up, like a a homo-fuck-toy! Made him our little cock-sucking bitch. Sodomized him. Split his rectum. Really worked that neither-hole. Drowned him in our hot, salty piss. Fucked the shit out of him, all for the glory of the Baphomet!”
“You’re so evil! I’ve heard enough!” whimpered Father Samuel.
Mistress Retch just laughed out loud.
“Funny. Faggot Priest. Fucking Cock-Sucker!” Goaded Mistress Retch, “Look at you! You’re still standing there, rubbing yourself furiously at my filthy words. You know we’re about to cum over your fucking Bible!”
xxxxx
Daniel wasn’t like his brothers. Though he was the oldest, he was the weakest, the smallest, and the most effeminate. His father was a butcher. His grandfather was a butcher. And his great-grandfather had been a butcher. Daniel had no aspirations to follow in their footsteps.
Within Daniel’s family, he felt like an outcast. A round peg for a square hole. But for the love of his parents, he tried his best. And failed miserably. He would cry himself to sleep at night and often kept to himself more than most.
He had just turned eighteen and had moved out of home. He had a simple delivery job, as part of the family business, and it paid enough (with a little help from his mother) for a small apartment downtown. At least there, Daniel didn’t feel so out of place, as the neighborhood was a mixed bunch. Nobody took particular notice of Daniel’s effeminacy. He liked his new anonymity. It felt good to fade into the background.
There was a church not far from where he lived. It was old and decrepit. He’d been there a few times. The priest seemed to be okay. Not one of those righteous pricks who seemed to have it in for his kind of folks. He’d heard the Archbishop speak — now there was a truly evil man, he thought.
Daniel had taken confession once or twice at this small church, but he’d mostly bullshitted his way through it. It was during this time of living alone, that Daniel began to have strange dreams. Some may have even called them nightmares. They did frighten him, and he’d actually found them horrifying to begin with. A shedemon or a shedevil, he wasn’t sure. The shedemon seemed to hunt him night after night. Relentlessly. Daniel would awaken with his bedsheets soaked in sweat, and strangely, he’d always have a hard-on.
The unholy shedemon always appeared naked and horny. Lust seemed to radiate from this being. The creature had beckoned young Daniel to do obscene things … highly sexual things … perverted things. At first Daniel prayed to Jesus Christ to help him make it through the night. But his savior was missing-in-action, never bothered to make an appearance, and Daniel’s night sweats and arousal seemed to only get worse.
He wasn’t sure when it happened, but it did happen. He couldn’t explain why, but he began to find a strange curiosity emerging from these so-called nightmares. The she demon never presented itself as harmful to him; in fact, it seemed to encourage him, inspire him to be dirty … be naughty … and be miscreant … to imagine the most vile of sexual acts.
In this demonic dreamworld, Daniel found he wasn’t alone. There were others, just like him. They were soft, effeminate boys who all seemed to be possessed with the love of cock. The worship of cock. Daniel, who had been told all his life that “You shall not lie with a male as with a woman; it is an abomination” … thought that being a sinful bumboy was a terrible sin.
For these were mortal sins. There would be no mercy or forgiveness, as God’s divine retribution was severe. To even contemplate fellatio, analingus, or sodomy was just like signing your soul to the fiery depths of Hell — “And if your hand causes you to sin, cut it off. It is better for you to enter life crippled than with two hands to go to hell, to the unquenchable fire.”
Yet, as the nights passed, Daniel’s desire to try these taboos began to blossom. The shedemon had a goat-like head with huge, curled horns and a terrifying flame burning at its brow. Its legs were those of the beast, with hooves instead of feet. It was tall and imposing. The beast of the number 666. To Daniel, the strangest of things was that the shedemon had the breasts of a woman and the phallus of a man. A transexual demon that Daniel found extremely exotic and very exciting.
Daniel felt only lust in the presence of the shedemon. His cock throbbed and ached to be touched. How to resist such demonic pleasures.
The shedemon encouraged him to join its band of young bumboys. Faggot boys. Femboys. They were all like him. Weak and timid to begin with, but quickly they became sexual with each other. Touching each other. Fondling. French kissing. Daniel would awaken abruptly from his nightmare. His cock was hard and dripping with precum. He’d seen the other boys rubbing themselves furiously … the self-pleasures of masturbation were a gift from their shedemon … and he began to do the same … it felt sinful … wicked … unholy … but he couldn’t help himself.
The more he did it, the more he wanted. Even when he wasn’t dreaming about sex with the shedemon, he would imagine himself worshipping the shedemon’s huge cock. Praying to the shedemon for more powerful orgasms! More semen to squirt over his face and chest. Always, the pleasure would be followed by a deep guilt. By the feeling of absolute shame. He was conflicted, but said to himself that it was just a dream. The temptation was all in his mind. It simply wasn’t real.
xxxxx
CHAPTER TWO — IX – HERMIT (1,783 WORDS)
“When I say the dangers of the RAINBOW PLAGUE, I refer to their demonic ideology that stems from the ancient biblical cities destroyed by God, Sodom and Gomorrah. Their beliefs and behaviours must not go unchecked. Don’t be fooled by all this talk of tolerance and acceptance. They must be stamped out. We must stamp them out! Let them be eradicated.” — Extract from the speech of Archbishop Marek.
Daniel entered the darkened interior of the confessional. It smelt funky. Like spent semen. His past experiences of confession with his family preacher were always uncomfortable. The priest was a bigot and a bully. His hatred of queers had made Daniel very scared. But there was something about Father Samuel that seemed to be better. More reassuring. More receptive.
So there he was, still a little nervous, with a lot on his conscience. Guilt. Shame. Anxiety. That’s when the confession screen between them opened, and he could make out the familiar silhouette of the priest, Father Samuel.
“Forgive me, Father, … for I have … sinned,” stuttered young Daniel.
Daniel had always secretly hated coming to church with his family. Obligation was a terrible thing. But in this new neighbourhood, he’d found the church of Father Samuel strangely comforting. The priest, unlike his family, was not condescending or patronising towards his feminine traits. He felt a sense of belonging. Home. He hoped he’d understand him … somehow.
“State your sins,” asked the mild-mannered Father Samuel.
xxxxx
The priest immediately recognized the boy’s voice. The young boy’s voice quickly stirred his sinful cock, beneath his gown. The sweet and naive sound was almost magical. He’d just turned eighteen. Not so much a boy anymore. Maybe it was because he was small for his age. He had the look of someone much younger. But today, there seemed to be something different about Daniel. Something a little more manic, maybe. There was an unfamiliar quiver in his voice that seemed to appeal to Father Samuel … and appeal to Mistress Retch.
“Father, I don’t know where to begin?” asked the boy.
Mistress Retch growled in the background. Eager for more filth, sin, and wickedness.
“Sorry, Father, did you say something?”
“No, my son,” replied Father Samuel, “Please take your time. State your sins so that you may listen to the penance.”
“Father… I have been recently having these … rather disturbing dreams,” Daniel admitted. “More like nightmares. They’ve come almost every night.”
“And what are these disturbing dreams about? Can you remember?” Asked Father Samuel.
“Yes, I remember them all … every one of them … they are nightmares of a wicked shedemon that seems to haunt me. They’re very unpleasant and unholy … I was initially afraid of it … afraid of this she demon … I would awaken in the darkness covered in sweat and feeling panicked … the shedemon was always involved in the most obscene of things … I saw these visions of filth and evil … things that involved disturbingly sexual things …”
“There is no sin in having nightmares, my son,” Father Samuel answered.
“But Father … it’s not just these nightmares … you see, though I knew it was wrong, after a while then I started to almost look forward to the demon’s visits … I wondered where it was going … and I would find myself intrigued … even, dare I say, excited … my penis would be erect, and the demon would encourage me to touch myself … ordering me to sin for it!”
“Did you pray?” asked Father Samuel.
“Yes, oh yes, Father. I started to pray to Jesus Christ our Savior for his divine guidance and help … for the flesh desires what is contrary to the Spirit, and the Spirit what is contrary to the flesh,” Daniel quoted. “I begged the Son of God for the strength to resist the shedemon’s temptations of the flesh … I prayed as hard as I could to the Lord Our Savior to make the demon stop the onslaught … but he didn’t heed my prayers, and it only got worse … what … what should I have done? Why didn’t he save me? Does this make me evil? Am I a devil worshipper? I’m so confused, Father!”
Mistress Retch grinned broadly. She was beginning to like this boy. She sensed the boy lied about his so-called confusion. It was obvious to her that the boy had a morbid curiosity about it. A curiosity about those delicious dark sexual delights. Encouragement, Mistress Retch thought. Yes, that’s what was needed.
“What exactly were you confused about?” Interrupted Father Samuel with a sensible question.
”I was confused … you see, Father, this shedemon-thing encouraged me to join in and do obscene things … with other boys that were more like me … perform these bizarre sexual rituals … acts of perversion … blasphemous things … oh, as much as I resisted … the stronger these odd sensations … these wicked feelings … the more pornographic these illusions became … soon, I found myself falling … being corrupted … as I did, I found myself bringing myself to orgasm over and over … oh, dearest God, forgive me. Forgive me! I feel so guilty … so ashamed of myself …”
”Other boys, like you?” Growled Mistress Retch.
”Ummm … you know … effeminate types … they call us bumboys, Father … I mean … bumboys that are more … umm … feminine … boys that are like girls but have a penis … I know how it sounds … so wrong, oh Father …”
Father Samuel fell silent. His mouth was dry. Perspiration dripped from his forehead. His penis was throbbing between his fingers as Mistress Retch began to stroke him with the pleasure of wickedness.
”Tell me about these … bizarre rituals,” groaned Mistress Retch. “The sexual rituals. What exactly did these pretty, sissy, bumboys do to you and each other?”
”Oh,” gasped Daniel, “Oh … I … I feel ashamed to say …”
”Don’t be coy, now. Tell me! Tell me everything! Don’t leave anything out!” Grunted Mistress Retch eagerly.
”This shedemon … it was kind of half male … half female … with the head of a ram with large horns … it has, like a flame, burning brightly from its brow … it has the naked breasts of a woman … and the erect phallus of a well-endowed man … its hind legs are covered in fur, with hooves instead of feet …”
”The … the Baphomet!” gasped Samuel under his breath.
“Baphomet!” grinned Mistress Retch.
The young boy seemed to be on an expressive roll. His initial shyness had moved on towards a more euphoric release from his supposed toxic guilt — the words flowed from him in his graphic depiction of his darkened nightmare … or sex fantasy!
”Father, the bumboys were all dressed in girlie things and lingerie … they all danced frantically around the perverted demon … quickly stripping, until they were all completely naked and hard as nails … they were masturbating themselves furiously and each other … some copulating, frotting their erect penises against one another … they even drank each other’s piss as they sucked each other’s cocks …”
‘YESSSSSS …” hissed Mistress Retch! “Beati sunt mali! [Blessed are the evil ones!]”
“… Then the shedemon called all the bumboys to bow down one-by-one between its legs and kiss its erect penis as we rubbed ourselves … then it was my turn … the shedemon’s cock was huge, dripping with slimy precum, and was extremely hot to the touch … as I kissed, licked, and sucked it, my mind was filled with its wickedness … wantonness … lust for evil sex … I became a willing participant in the shedemon’s evil sodomistic orgy … and when I pressed my lips finally wrapped around the head of the demon’s cock, I felt myself at the brink to orgasm!”
”YESSSS … Wicked. Evil. Depraved … Laus sit Daemonibus Inferni, [Praise be to the Demons of Hell]” grunted Mistress Retch; her eager hand was already wrapped around her throbbing cock, as she got off to the boy’s sissy confession.
”Then, the evil shedemon demanded that we all offer it a sacrifice … a human sacrifice … and the other bumboys brought forward a young one … before the wicked shedemon … the boy was much smaller, immature, vulnerable … he was already crying and shaking in fear … they’d stripped him naked too!”
“Go on,” encouraged Mistress Retch.
“At first … I wanted no part in this awful thing … this was wrong … cruel and vicious … I wanted to run away and hide … but the shedemon insisted that I be the one to perform the Rite of Sodom …”
“Tell me what you did! Tell me about the Rite of Sodom!” demanded Mistress Retch.
Her voice carried no pretence of compassion or understanding toward the young sinner. Nothing sounded remotely forgiving or spiritually guiding. Father Samuel’s voice was drowned out by Mistress Retch’s thirst for faggot lust. There was the vulgar sound of wet cock-flesh had become obvious, as Mistress Retch masturbated to the boy’s confession.
”The other bumboys cheered me on! They had all gone wild … crazy with depraved lust … they grabbed hold of the young one and tied him up before the greedy shedemon … he cried as they stretched his arms above his head … he yelped as his legs spread wide! The demon licked his lips. He forced the young boy to kiss his goat-like snout. The boy was hyperventilating. He was almost in shock.
“That’s when the shedemon demanded that I sodomize him … ‘Take him, stick your cock into him, fuck him for me, show me your dedication, show me that you worship me,’ she told me … to do it right there and then, in front of the evil creature, ‘Show no mercy, hurt him, fuck him, make him scream, make him bleed, while your fellow bumboys continued to sexually abuse him for my pleasure,’ she growled like a rabid animal in heat …”
Daniel panted in a shortage of breath from the rapid-fire of his vivid description.
”It’s just a nightmare,” comforted Father Samuel. “Not real. Nobody was harmed.”
”Oh, Father. I kept telling myself that. But it didn’t stop me from feeling so evil? Am I a wicked bumboy? Will I burn in the fires of Hell forever?” asked Daniel timidly.
”Have you been touching yourself while you confessed to me?” demanded Mistress Retch.
There was a pregnant pause. A mousy whimper.
”I … I did, Father … I’m sorry … I must have got carried away … please, I beg … please absolve me of my awful sins!”
Mistress Retch was still stroking herself … Yes, she had other plans for this bumboy. Yes, she thought, with just the aid of some amyl nitrate, this perverted, little femboy could easily become one evil fucker!
”You will need some special counselling. Forgiveness will only come later. First, you must understand what this means and how to bring this demonic possession to the fore. After confession, you will join me downstairs in the church basement,” said Father Samuel.
“And you will tell nobody about this. Nobody. Understand?” added Mistress Retch.
”Yes. Yes, of course, Father.”
xxxxx
CHAPTER THREE — IX – HERMIT (1,779 WORDS)
“For the Glory of God Almighty and for the sanctity of our faith, we must take an uncompromising lightning rod to the issues of the RAINBOW PLAGUE. Evil is at our neighborhood’s doorstep. Let me be explicit in my damnation of the queers and gays. They are demons of temptation, spreading the devil’s plan to ruin the union of the Christian marriage. To turn love into nothing more than depraved sexuality!” — Extract from the speech of Archbishop Marek.
xxxxx
“Your Honor, I believe the best way to get your message out to the more vulnerable communities, is to do dedicated talks, through our various local ministries and churches,” suggested the Archbishop’s assistant, Reverend Michael.
“You may be right,” replied the Archbishop, as he drained the glass of his expensive Henri IV Dudognon Heritage cognac. “Draft me a list of the most borderline communities … the ones that seem to be lacking the inertia to rid us of these disgusting sodomite, queers, and gays!”
“Yes, your Lordship. Right away!”
xxxxx
The basement beneath the old church was a rather dark and dank place. It was filled with bookshelves lined with religious relics and old manuscripts. There was an aroma of musty earth, old wood, and a faint hint of vanilla and chocolate.
Daniel had left the confessional. His mind was awash with twisted thoughts. What had the Father meant by the name “Baphomet”? What were those strange Latin phrases … “Beati sunt mali”? … “Laus sit Daemonibus Inferni”? … What did the priest have in mind for his “Special Counselling”? The waiting was making him even more nervous.
There was no place to sit, so he stood against one of the many bookshelves, shifting from one foot to the other. He needed to pee badly. He should have gone in the refectory, but didn’t. Now he regretted that decision as he waited impatiently for the priest.
He hadn’t meant to say so much. Really. Why hadn’t he just stopped? It would have been easier. He could have finished with, “I have been recently having these disturbing dreams. More like nightmares. They’ve come almost every night.” But there had been something about the Father … something that had lured him into his ridiculously incriminating disclosure. “I feel so evil? Am I a wicked person? Will I burn in Hell forever?” Daniel didn’t understand himself, let alone the true nature of these nightmares.
”Are you ready to begin your special counselling?” asked Father Samuel, touching the boy’s face daringly … affectionately … sexually.
Daniel looked nervous. He bit his lower lip. And then nodded.
”You must swear never to mention anything about your special counselling to anyone. You understand? No one.”
Daniel nodded again. He felt a sense of mischief.
“Laus sit Daemonibus Inferni!” Growled Mistress Retch.
”Sometimes, we’re not always ourselves,” explained the priest. “Sometimes, it’s easier to be someone else … an alter ego … another you. Do you understand?”
”I’m not sure, Father,” the boy answers timidly.
”Let’s just imagine that the boy in your dreams was called Danielle. Would you like to be Danielle, right now? That naughty effeminate bumboy? asked Father Samuel.
”Oh, yes, Father … I’d like that,” Danielle answered with a cheeky grin.
“Well, Danielle … you see, in this place, there is no need to hide what you feel … what Danielle desires … you know that the demon of your nightmares has brought you to us … there will no longer be any need for shame, guilt, or confusion … Danielle, you will become one of our acolytes. To serve us. To serve the great demon, with cock and breasts … and you will learn to serve the Baphomet. Now, follow us.”
“Yes, Father,” Danielle answered excitedly.
“That’s the spirit! Good,” affirmed Father Samuel.
With that, the priest opened a secret door. It wasn’t so much a door as a bookcase that opened inward to reveal a hidden passageway. Danielle followed the priest inside. The bookcase slowly closed behind them.
Inside, the immediate room was lit with a glowing reddish light, much like a dark room. It looked eerie and creepy to the young boy. At the same time, he felt his curiosity peeking, and Danielle’s cock was already hard as nails.
”Just imagine that this is just one of your dirty dreams,” instructed Father Samuel. “One of those evil dreams where you do what your demon wants you to do … can you do that?”
”Oh! Yes, Father,” Danielle answered obediently.
”And in this evil place, you must call me, Mistress Retch?”
”Yes, Mistress Retch,” Danielle replied.
Mistress Retch grinned and removed her priestly gown. As the dull robe fell to the floor, Danielle saw Mistress Retch for the first time. She wore female underwear beneath her gown. Her body beneath wasn’t masculine at all. Over time, the hormones had softened any male features and removed all male hair.
Dressed in a black open-cup bra and crutchless panties, suspenders and thigh-high stockings, Mistress Retch appeared very feminine in shape. Mistress Retch stepped into her high-heeled shoes and donned a blonde wig with a blunt fringe. It was an almost magical transformation — just like the sexual demons that Danielle had dreamt and masturbated to.
”Undress,” barked Mistress Retch, “Beati sunt mali!” [Blessed are the evil ones!].
”Yes, Mistress …” replied the eager bumboy.
Danielle felt a familiar sense of illicit excitement urging her to comply … a feeling she’d had before in her darkest of dreams. Yes, being Danielle would set her free; Danielle couldn’t help but notice her Mistress had an erection … she could see it, pocking upwards between the lacy material. Danielle did exactly as her evil Mistress ordered. Her own penis dripped at the sight of Mistress Retch’s cock, as it pointed upwards like the demon’s phallus.
“Good gurl,” growled Mistress Retch, rubbing herself slow a deliberately in front of Danielle, “This will be our sacred place. Our Temple of Sodom. Where we come here to pray. For you to worship with your Mistress. To partake in our dark anal rituals … just like the ones you described in your blasphemous dreams … here, we worship the sissy goddess, the faggot goddess, the phallic goddess, the piss goddess!”
The trigger word “piss” reminded Danielle of how much she needed to urinate. As Danielle’s eyes became more accustomed to the warm red light, she realised they weren’t alone. There, at the rear of the temple, hung a much younger boy before an obscene idol. It was a scene she’d seen before in his dreams. It was like a premonition. Déjà vu. The demon idol was half male, half female, with the head of a goat with horns. It had like a red, burning flame emanating from its brow. The demon had the breasts of a woman, and the phallus of a well-endowed man, and its legs were covered in fur that ended with hooves instead of feet.
The hanging boy seemed animated. As if the presence of Mistress Retch and Danielle signified something unpleasant. In the reddish glow, the boy appeared malnourished, gaunt, and vulnerable. It was a scene that excited Danielle. She wanted to empty her bladder over him. She wanted to put his penis inside the boy. Danielle wanted to fuck the boy’s face. Fuck his anus. Make him bleed. She wanted his Demon Mistress to watch and masturbate. She wanted to appease the sexual demons that screamed obscenities inside her evil mind.
”That’s right,” grunted Mistress Retch, as if she could read Danielle’s mind. “Danielle … Aren’t you hungry for some hot boy-ass and cock?”
Mistress Retch donned the appearance of a fetish plague doctor. The mask was curved, with a hollow nose piece shaped as a bird’s beak, measuring about half a foot long, with round glass openings set over Mistress Retch’s beady eyes. The “doctor” offered Danielle something to sniff … sometimes called boppers, poppers, or pearls … the chemistry of unbridled lust.
”Sniff this …” ordered the fetish plague doctor.
Danielle breathed in deeply. He felt the immediate rush and flushing. The wicked bumboy suddenly felt incredibly horny, like a rage of lust throughout her loins. Danielle was liberated … set free … she was no longer shy or coy about her intentions. Her cock felt as if it was on fire with sexual heat. She had the strongest of urges to release her overfilled bladder and to urinate over the boy’s face. She did exactly that!
“Aaahghhhh …” cried the hinging boy in total distress.
”Drink my delicious piss, fucker!” Danielle demanded.
The young boy tried to turn away. But Danielle continued to guide her pissing over the boy’s face, neck, and chest.
”Drink it, or I’ll really hurt you!” She demanded at the crying altar boy.
There seemed to be an undeniable joy in forcing him to drink from her acrid piss fountain. Of course the boy resisted. But it was useless; he wasn’t going anywhere. Danielle only laughed. And the stench of urine seemed to be a powerful aphrodisiac for the plague doctor’s perverted sissy acolyte.
“Hail Baphomet! Hail Baphomet!” Cried the evil plague doctor.
It was as if Danielle was fulfilling a script in his deviant little mind — one that involved non-consensual anal sex — with Father Samuel’s altar boy. The altar boy screamed as their new acolyte enacted the commands of the plague doctor, as Mistress Retch’s alter ego, Samuel, could only watch.
It was as if the two of them, Mistress Retch and her acolyte, Danielle, were now connected somehow, like fellow perpetrators, working together for the Rainbow Plague.
Father Samuel could only look on in reluctance … trying to hide his secret joy! His eyes dilated in the bright red light burning from the head of the demon idol, as young Danielle, played her twisted part, taking hold of the altar boy by the hips and pressing her cock-head firmly against his anus.
Father Samuel’s mind reeled with the echoes of Mistress Retch barking in Latin at Danielle in her gravelly voice … demanding their acolyte sodomize him and fuck him for the devil!
“Laus sit Daemonibus Inferni! Laus sit Daemonibus Inferni!” Barked Mistress Retch.
“Oh, oh, oh, yes …” gasped Father Samuel, “Oh, I never expected such delightful sin!”
Danielle sank her burning cock further into the boy’s anus. It was so tight. And as the boy struggled against the intrusion, it only created more pleasure for his rapist. Danielle turned the boy’s crying face towards her, and plunged her tongue into the boy’s urine-flavoured mouth, as she fucked him hard and fast. Her semen was boiling in her balls. She knew that her orgasm was arriving like a freight train … unstoppable …
”Fuck! Yer! Fuck, and hail The Baphomet!” screamed the plague doctor as she too began to reach her masturbatory climax!
xxxxx
CHAPTER FOUR — IX – HERMIT (1,843 WORDS)
“Good, God-fearing, Christian people deserve a world free of the scourge of the RAINBOW PLAGUE and its demonic depravity. Those who chose this path must learn the lessons of the Old Testament. That defying God’s Holy laws must be punished harshly, unforgivingly, and in the most public of manners — this will deter those who contemplate such evil deeds, and will pour the fire of redemption into their perverted hearts!” — Extract from the speech of Archbishop Marek.
The church had been very busy that Sunday morning. Maybe the cold weather had contributed. Father Samuel’s audience had been attentive. He had talked about tolerance and acceptance, in a world that seemed to be polarized towards activities of gays, lesbians, and transexuals. Of course, not everyone seemed either tolerant or accepting, as their local community was a rather mixed bag.
Recently, there had even been staunch protests and some violence against what they called the “Rainbow Plague”. The protestors claimed that sodomites should be stoned to death, like in times of old. Maybe these archaic beliefs were somewhat incited, no less, by Archbishop Marek. He was a Christian zealot and homophobe who seemed to have the ear of some important people in the surrounding communities. His uncompromising hatred of queers was omnipresent in all his public addresses, speeches, and prayers — “Smit them, Lord! Smit the sodomites!”
During the service, Daniel had been serving as an altar boy (as Father Samuel’s last altar boy was still hanging below in his secret chamber). Daniel had been ringing the sanctus bell during the Eucharistic Prayer … carrying the processional cross and candles … swinging the thurible on a chain … and pouring the water over Father Samuel’s hands during the preparation of the gifts … he’d been an excellent altar boy.
The service concluded, and Father Samuel and Daniel watched the last of the parishioners leave. His energy was beginning to boil with wickedness. Yes! Yes! Sodomy. The priest felt the temple calling him to worship. Horny and aroused, he no longer cared for anything good. His preachy speech seemed to have stirred his parishioners, but he was sure that Mistress Retch would have something to say about his lacklustre performance later. Much later … he hoped.
However, before he closed the church door, one woman remained behind. It annoyed him. Delaying the illicit pleasure his mind and body craved. She seemed to hover awkwardly, awaiting to capture the attention of the impatient priest.
“Father Samuel,” she said politely, “May I have a word?”
The woman looked momentarily at Daniel, who respectfully bowed his head and quickly disappeared out of sight.
“Of course. What is it about?” Asked Father Samuel, hoping to deal with the problem quickly.
“I am new in your neighborhood. But I sense a conflict in your sermon, Father. Between the light and dark. Between the unseen forces. So many seem to just hate the queer community here, but you embrace, and even encourage them. A believer in alternatives, maybe?”
Mistress Retch watched the woman closely. What was she on about? But there was something intriguing about the way she moved. Maybe it was in the inappropriate way she was dressed in her thin Spandex tights and little bra top (more fitting for a trip to the gym than to the local church). And was there a slight bulge in the groin?
Interesting, Mistress Retch thought. Maybe she wasn’t a cis woman? Maybe she was coming onto the hapless Father Samuel. All that talk about light and dark and the unseen … maybe a believer in the Devil … even a worshipper of the shedemon. Hmm. Interesting, Mistress Retch thought.
“I’m not sure I understand,” lied the priest as he made sure the door was closed and that there was no one else in earshot.
Father Samuel noticed the glimmer of a circular talisman around her delicate neck. As she turned, he couldn’t help but recognize the pagan Sigil of Lilith. His cock stiffened and leaked precum immediately.
“Well, one has to keep an open mind …” he pretended.
“And open legs,” rasped Mistress Retch under her breath.
“Open mind and open heart, I say,” the woman replied, toying with her talisman.
The libertine woman moved forward towards Father Samuel. Closing the gap until she was standing inches from him. He didn’t move. Her hand reached out and traced the shape of his obvious erection as it pressed outwards against his loose gown.
Mistress Retch returned the gesture, as she did the same. Mistress Retch’s fingers openly fondled the woman’s bulge in the front of her flimsy Spandex pants. The bulge seemed to expand further to Mistress Retch’s touch, forming a long sausage shape expanding upwards until it was obviously an erect penis. Without much movement, a wet patch appeared where her cock-head would have been at the tip of her bulge.
“What is your name, you delicious creature?” Asked Mistress Retch.
“A creature? A cock-whore? A shedevil? A succubus of Sodom … Mmmmmm … Father Samuel, please call me Goddess Rachel,” answered Goddess Rachel.
“Mmmmmm, a goddess indeed … fuck yer … like Lilith, Inanna Ishtar, or Kali Ma … you say you are a shedemon?”
“If that is what you’ve been searching for? I am the screeching owl. I am Lilith embodied. The Goddess of Queer Cocks!” Goddess Rachel responded to Mistress Retch’s fingers, promiscuously sizing up the length of her throbbing bulge. “Mmmmmm,” she added wantonly. “Maybe there’s somewhere we can go that would be more private?”
“Yes. Oh, yes, of course. And you must call me Mistress Retch,” answered Mistress Retch. “Let me get my young acolyte, Danielle, to join us … three is always more fun, don’t you think?”
”I quite agree. A trinity of cocks!” Goddess Rachel affirmed.
xxxxx
Daniel returned to the temple in the basement of the old church.
He could hear the young boy whimpering as he hung. Daniel looked at the beaten and slumped shape of the young boy. He advanced, yet the boy didn’t move. Maybe he was asleep? Daniel untied his bruised ankles from the floor. The boy did not attempt to avoid Daniel’s touch as he reached up and untied his wrists. The boy’s weight fell forward against Daniel’s naked flesh. He caught him in his arms and slowly lowered him to the ground.
”Please, no more …” cried the boy apologetically.
”As long as you do what I say, I promise I won’t beat you. You understand?” he replied.
The boy nodded.
He seemed to have little or no strength left. They’d starved him for some time. He still stank of urine, feces, and semen. Daniel helped him up and brought him to a small wash area, in the rear of the underground temple. The boy seemed compliant. There, Daniel gently washed and cleaned the boy. The boy flinched as Daniel’s hands intentionally touched his genitals — supposedly cleaning him.
”There,” said Daniel, “That feels better, right?”
Daniel stroked the boy’s flaccid cock.
The boy nodded unconvincingly.
”Eat, drink, rest …” Daniel said, offering the boy some dry biscuits and water.
”Please, just let me go … I won’t tell anyone …” pleaded the boy.
”Sorry. I can’t do that. The Dark Mother would not allow it.”
The boy began to quietly sob to himself, but did not attempt to stop Daniel from touching him between the legs. Maybe it soothed him in some strange way? Daniel’s cock was hard and dripping. Eager to have sex. He gripped the boy’s hand and guided him to his lap, forcing the boy to masturbate him. He demonstrated the movement, pressing the boy’s fingers tightly around his slimy shaft, as he glided the boy’s hand up and down.
”Please me, and I won’t beat you.”
The boy seemed to understand his predicament. There was nowhere to run. No means to escape. Despite his initial disgust, avoidance of pain was obviously the wiser choice. Opting for what he saw as the better of two evils, his small fingers wrapped around Daniel’s stiff cock, stroking him slow and steady.
“There! Aghhhh,” groaned Daniel as he enjoyed corrupting the young boy. “That’s it. Faster. Mmmmm. Fuck my cock you faggot! Mmmmmmm ….”
Daniel reached for one of the Mistress’s poppers. He opened it and held it under the boy’s nose.
“Breathe it in!” He ordered.
The breathed in the fumes. The boy’s eyes immediately rolled back in his head. His heart seemed to race faster and faster. His face looked flushed with perspiration, and his fingers stiffened their grip around Daniel’s cock.
“Aarggghhh …” groaned the boy as if releasing his own inner demon.
Up until now, his penis had been limp and flaccid, but suddenly the boy’s cock stiffened in Daniel’s fingers as he closed his fist around it.
”Yer, that’s move like it, you fucker!”
Daniel pushed the boy’s head down into his lap.
“Suck my cock,” Daniel ordered, “And piss in my mouth!”
The boy complied as the two of them moved into a sixty-nine, taking each other’s cocks in their mouths — sucking each other’s stiff dicks, and drinking each other’s urine, like there was no tomorrow!
xxxxx
By the reddish light of the Mistress’s evil temple, Goddess Rachel and Mistress Retch kissed. Mistress Retch had, once again, transformed herself with her blonde wig and high-heeled shoes. Discarding her priestly gown to reveal her cross-dressed femininity.
Goddess Rachel had removed her skippy outfit to expose her delightful female form and sizeable eight-inch cock. Her dark, pronounced nipples poked forward like bullets from her pale flat chest.
For a long time the two of them remained pressed together, exploring each other’s mouths with their serpentine tongues. Moaning into each other’s mouths. They embraced one another. Gripping each other’s naked flesh. Their wet-tipped cocks frotting hard and urgently against one another.
”It has been a lonely journey, my dearest,” explained Mistress Retch. “The church … the priest … the saviour … they are all a front … I am devoted to that which crawls beneath my flesh, and manifests itself in my squirting cum. I am a creature of the darkness. I seek to appease that which is evil, destructive, and depraved. My passions are deviant, and my love of demon cock is all-consuming… I feel you are a kindred … am I correct in my feelings?”
”Mmmmmmm … how to express myself to you, Mistress? It feels as if you have been awaiting my arrival,” said Goddess Rachel.
Young Danielle was also naked. Her cock throbbed as she knelt in front of her Mistress and Goddess Rachel. She rubbed their long, stiff cocks, masturbating them. Then alternated between Mistress Retch and Goddess Rachel, sucking one dick whilst masturbating the other, as they talked casually about their blasphemous joys.
“Your Temple of Sodom, is absolutely glorious!” crowed the flat-chested Goddess Rachel admiring the idol at the rear of the basement, “An evil haven for us to serve as sacred whores, harlots, and sodomites, akin, the days of the temples and shrines of depravity, where our fore-sisters performed the rites to honor the deities of darkness … celebrating the night goddesses … Lilitu, Nye, Morrigan, Hecate, Nephrhys, Isis, Inanna, and Kali Ma … offering them young ones to be raped, by female phallus, for the divine pleasure of our shedemons!”
Daniel stepped to the rear of the temple and brought the young boy forward. The boy seemed timid, but no longer flaccid. In fact, his small but stiff cock stood top attention before Mistress Retch and Goddess Rachel.
“I see you have been busy,” noted Mistress Retch.
”Praise the gospel of the Devil!” exclaimed Goddess Rachel.
“We both live only to serve you, oh, great Mistress and Goddess,” said Danielle, pushing their new acolyte forward.”
The young altar boy knelt quietly. He looked back at Danielle for reassurance, but got none.
”Do as I told you,” stressed Danielle.
The boy began to shyly masturbate himself.
”He’s going to make an excellent new edition to our cause!” said Mistress Retch, “Maybe we can use him after all!”
xxxxx
EPILOGUE — IX – HERMIT (153 WORDS)
”If a Rainbow Plague is what they fear … Maybe a Rainbow Plague is what we should give them?” suggested Goddess Rachel.
“Such an interesting idea,” replied Mistress Rachel.
“This new church leader … Archbishop Marek. He’s untouchable. His ministry cannot be corrupted. I have attended his sermons. I know that there are many who follow his doctrine to the letter. He’s a very powerful man!” warned Father Samuel.
“Then, we should make a plan?” Replied Goddess Rachel, “Behind every powerful man, there are those who scheme their own agendas. The fall is always so delicious! There are always those who can be corrupted, coerced, or bribed.”
“Yes! And what a magnificent fall that would be!”
xxxxx
Is this the end or just the beginning? What lies ahead for young Daniel? What evil mischief could Mistress Retch and Goddess Rachel get up to in Archbishop Marek’s administration? Or, will Father Samuel gain control of himself and change the plan? How could they bring on the Rainbow Plague?
xxxxx
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