DISCLAIMER: The following is fiction. The content of the story is not representative of the writer’s beliefs, opinions, or attitudes. This story is intended for adult entertainment only. The characters and events depicted in this work are fictional. The author does not condone or promote any unlawful activity such as is depicted in the story. By continuing to read this work you acknowledge that you are an adult who wishes to read works of fantasy and fiction for the purpose only of fantasy. All the characters in this story are adults. They may play different ages for the fictional character that they are depicting but they remain at all times adults. All Rights Reserved © 2023 LITTLESALLY666.

STORY CODES: LGBT themes, Incest, WS, Scat, Cohesion, Corruption, Young, NC, Rape, Bondage, Blasphemy, Sadism, Snuff, MC, Black Magic, Devil Worship, Demons, Evil themes

CREATED: 03.07.2014 / REVISITED: 15.09.2023

Priestess 4


The High Priestess is a very spiritual card – often with highly perverted sexual overtones. It can mean that the querent is in a phase where he or she is going to be much more physically attractive to others, open to encounters both heterosexual and homosexual. The High Priestess is tied to the Moon, to femininity, to wantonness, and to the inspiration of new sexual experimentation. Give into the High Priestess in you; let her rule your day and you will find that your narrow and limited viewpoint on sexuality can expand beyond your current desires. What do you want from your sexuality? What have you been missing out or denying yourself? Are you truly who you think you are, or is there a secret pervert longing for the freedom to explore your deepest deviance? The High Priestess is a psycho-sexual religious figure. On one hand, there is divine piousness and abstinence; on the other, there is devilment and sexual obsession … which force rules you?


They say that evil has no substance of its own, but is only the defect, excess, perversion, or corruption of that which has substance. But that is ignorance. Evil has form. Pure evil exists.

The once glorious City of Malum had plummeted into a vessel of extreme inequalities. At one end, violent crime was riff and life was cheap among the cesspool of decay, disparity, and human depravity; at the other, the wealthy, privileged, and religious, lived a life of opulence, over-indulgence, and excess.

Reverend Angela Greenway was one of the religious elite and yet a very popular preacher among the poorer city folks. Her TV gospel, ‘God Talk’, was broadcast over the Internet on a daily basis. The crown jewel of her private empire, the Cathedral of Hope, the home of the Holy Justice Ministry, was a Gothic monstrosity located at the main intersections of the city’s highways.

It appears that the Reverend Angela, by the grace of God, has saved a young woman from a fate worse than death by pulling her soul back from the brink and in the process transformed a satanic priestess into another warrior of the faithful and Holy Justice.

Born into the satanic church, the girl only known to us as Rebecca had had a lifetime of indoctrination in satanic beliefs. Had she completely relinquished the dark powers that she was purported to have? Could she really have moved objects without touching them and moved people against their will?

A suspicious mind may presume the worst that in fact, maybe nobody has been saved at all. Could it be that Reverend Angela, her Ministry, and those they seek to influence for God’s crusade against Satan are the ones in grave danger from this unassuming young woman?


“Satan fully comprehends the fallen nature of humanity and our sensual desires, which are governed and dominated by our five physical senses. He fully knows how to manipulate, entice, bait, snare, and catch his prey for his twisted godless will.” — Ephesians, chapter 6, verses 11-12 — “He fully knows that once immoral lusts and sexual vices have taken hold of and have snared his prey, he is able to bring to naught a particular people or nation for his own evil advantage.” — 1 Corinthians, chapter 6, commentary

The Reverend Angela had been right about two things after watching the demonstration of Vodou that Sister Marinette had put on for the Beneficiaries – be it on the pretext that it would build awareness and create funding for the Ministry.

The first was that the Ministry had received significant funding from these Beneficiaries – The Ministry seemed to believe that this strategy was the way forward to convince these Beneficiaries that God’s work needed to be done. The end justified the means. And that the suffering of a few for our Savior Jesus Christ was an acceptable loss. Reading the intent of those who watched, in my estimation they were paying to encourage the Reverend to provide more of this ‘entertainment’ rather than to support her so-called agenda to ‘save the world’.

The second was that I had been profoundly affected by the evening’s outcome, more than what it implied. A thought crossed my mind as I watched the wickedness unfold; as I cast back to a prophecy that I had not thought about until that moment … ‘They shall bring the evil ways … they shall employ the instruments of godliness to reveal the opposite … they shall bring the birth of the antichrist!’ – The Reverend had said that I would understand and I certainly did.

The sacrifice of the innocent would be nothing compared to the devilment that I could unleash … without limits … the Ministry and the Reverend had unwittingly played into the hands of those who would affect a very different outcome. I schemed ceaselessly … and Sister Marinette and the others would help me. Even the hapless Judith and fearful Ruth would each play their part.


“Yes, Sister,” I taunted her as I twisted her flabby nipples, “Your precious young ones … look how your fellow clergy use them as nothing more than toys … the infestation of sex demons has reached a fever pitch … and the enclave will use this orphanage as their nest … the constant supply of fresh orphans will serve their endless Satanic rituals.”

“You can’t do this … PLEASE!!! You cannot allow this to happen!” Sister Mary pleaded.

The overweight Sister Mary’s bleats of humiliation soon changed to high-pitched screeches of agony and pain – matched by the enthusiastic cries of ecstasy from the congregation of perverted clergy and their under-aged lovers. Her lewd fat body hung exposed for all to see. The blood rushed to her head after being tied to the thick wooden St Andrew’s cross and then suspended upside-down above the dark altar bed. The sheer weight of her flabby torso pulled against her weak limbs as her bowels opened.

Drowning out the pitiable screams of the Sister, was what passed as a sugary chorale melody echoing against the vaulted ceilings of the orphanage chapel from the soprano choir of three dozen naked orphans, which was in fact, laced with the most blasphemous and sacrilegious praise to seal their pact with the devil.

“Oh tool of Satan, Oh tool of Satan, Fill the bowels of the Nazarene, Oh demon cock, So long and strong, Cum forth with rape, Your rule supreme …

“Oh tool of Satan, Oh tool of Satan, Erect is Jesus, hung so wantonly, As we crucify him and masturbate, In praise of the God of Sodomy …

The rape orgy was in full swing as the participating Brothers and Sisters, no longer restrained by the watchful eye of the pious ones, were free to the young ones willing or not in their sexual embraces.

As I watched the devil’s playground spring into life before my wicked eyes … I thought back to only twelve hours previously – when I first arrived at the ill-fated orphanage.


I stepped from the sleek black limousine, sheltered from the perpetually falling rain under the small portico. The pretty young Sister Gabrielle awaited our arrival and covered my head with a wide umbrella to shelter me from the stray water that seemed to fall through the leaking ceiling above. The old building was in an advanced state of decay. How it remained to remain standing was a holy phenomenon.

“They are both waiting inside Sister Rebecca,” stated the young Sister, eager to please me.

“Thank you,” I answered simply.

We walked inside the aged orphanage and two more Sisters of the Ministry nervously awaited my arrival. The orphanage building had once been a grand place, but the neglect was obvious.

“Sisters Rebecca, please let me introduce Sisters Mary and Hillary. They are responsible for overseeing the Ministry’s interest in this privately funded orphanage,” said Sister Gabrielle.

“Sisters. I wish our acquaintance could be under more pleasant conditions, but we must get to the bottom of the problem of the raising abuse to the young children that we have under our care.”

“Sister Rebecca … it was Sister Mary that brought this matter to our attention, and she is fearful of the extent of both the abused and the abusers – she feels it is not just isolated incidents.” Added the mousy Sister Gabrielle.

“Thank you. Sister Mary, I have heard the rumors and would like to know more about this, as the welfare and safety of these young defenseless ones under our care is paramount to the Reverend,” I said.

“Oh Sister Rebecca, it warms me to hear that. I feel like I have been fighting an upward battle. The young ones come to us from everywhere – homeless and in such numbers – nobody cares for them. It is so easy for them to get lost in the system … but the key issue is not an administrative one, nor even the quality of care that we are able to offer – though I have asked for additional funds to make the orphanage a more comfortable place. The children live in overcrowded conditions with little to wear, save the shirt on their backs and none have shoes,” said Sister Mary, a portly woman, who looked deeply moved by the frustrating situation she had found herself in.

“Yes, I understand, but what of the manifestation?” I inquired, getting to the point that most interested me.

“Well. It is serious Sister. I mean, we pray for the children … we all pray for their souls, but something evil lurks here … it seems to attack the youngest and the weakest – it infects them with sinfulness. We catch them … you know … mmm … touching themselves.

“I don’t know what to do. I just feel there is someone or something corrupting them … corrupting their impressionable young minds … it’s like someone has been abusing them, teaching them to abuse themselves and each other – we single out the worst offenders and keep them separated from the rest … but the shamefulness is always there … I fear someone, maybe a Sister, a Brother is guilty of gross misconduct … inducing them the sickness, infecting them with sex demons – poisoning them with sexual filth and depravity,” added Sister Mary, who began to weep openly.

Sister Hillary handed her a clean handkerchief to wipe her tears.

“Interesting,” I said looking at the both of them.

Sister Mary was obviously to read, she was overcome by the situation. As I reached out, I could hear that in the thoughts of Sister Hillary, there was concealment … a secret … she knew much more about the situation than Sister Mary.

“And what have you observed Sister Hillary?” I asked.

“Well, it seems that poor Sister Mary is very overworked. Her responsibilities here at the orphanage have been very taxing on her. She is a very strong woman, but all this talk about sex demons and abuse is unfounded. I have not seen any real evidence of such things. Just some naughty children who really need to be better controlled and punished for their disobedience,” answered Sister Hillary.

Her voice was low and very constrained. She was part of that secret. There was a feeling of deep guilt mixed with a fundamental vicious desire for sexual cruelty … she was an abuser … maybe one of many here in the Ministry’s orphanage.

Sister Mary almost gagged at Sister Hillary’s comment.

“Sister Hillary! That is not true and you know it! You have witnessed things here, just like me. WE HAVE SEEN THE EVIL AT WORK!!! I agree that we are all stretched at the best of times, but what these kids really need is our care NOT punishment. They are all destitute runaways; unloved and unwanted … they have been thrown away like human garbage. They need the Sisters of the Justice to be more gentle, tender, and kind,” interrupted Sister Mary who had turned tomato red with frustration.

“Please. Please, Sister Mary. Let Sister Hillary talk. We are here to get to the bottom of this and for me to make a judgment and take action,” I said calmly.

“Sorry. Sorry … Forgive my outburst. I … I … just care so much for these defenseless children,” deeply sobbed Sister Mary and she leaned against Sister Gabrielle’s arm.

“Please continue Sister Hillary.”

“Well, as I was saying before the rude interruption. There is no problem. Sister Mary is simply overworked and needs a break. She needs some time away from this place. Brother Simon, Sister Valerie, and I are more than capable of dealing with this simple problem of masturbation,” stated Sister Hillary.

“REST? I …”

“Please Sister Mary …”

The tubby old Sister was very distraught and struggled to compose herself. Sister Gabrielle did her best to calm her.

“Sorry, Sister Hillary … what punishment do you suggest?” I asked stoking the fire that seemed to make Sister Mary almost want to ignite with agitation.

“Oh, Sister Rebecca. I am a strong believer in corporal punishment. It is the best treatment in this situation.” Answered Sister Hillary, emboldened by my show of respect for her point of view over that of the hapless Sister Mary.

“If they are caught – you know … touching themselves for the first time … we should not stop them. No … quite the opposite. We make them continue but before the image of Christ. Let them kneel naked and as they do it, we should beat them with a thin cane across their genitals … they should learn to associate self-pleasuring with humiliation and pain. The marks left on their bodies will serve as a reminder,” she added with great enthusiasm.

Sister Mary was beside herself with disbelief. Sister Hillary’s words were like barbed wire, dragged across her back.

“And if this behavior persists?” I asked.

I found myself liking this evil Sister more and more.

“Brother Simon, Sister Valerie, and I could apply more severe treatments… we could restrain them against the image of the Nazarene … then lash them with thorn branches that have been soaked in vinegar. If they are female, we could insert a conical slice of ginger inside their vagina; if they are male, we could force it inside their rectum … a slow agitation of its juices will induce a unique agony and pain that they will not quickly forget,” added Sister Hillary, her enthusiasm for these unexpected forms of torture was quite evident.

“Interesting,” I pretended to ponder, “I can see what has been going on here. The Reverend would surely agree with me that the lack of discipline under Sister Mary has led to this untenable situation with the young children,” I stated.

As all the color drained from Sister Mary’s face, I felt a palatable quake in my groin. My cunt ached with Sister Hillary’s suggestions of sexual torture. I needed to fuck one of these nasty little orphans as soon as possible.

“Sister Rebecca with all due respect, I haven’t heard such nonsense … I must object …”

“STOP!!!” I cut her off in mid-sentence, “Furthermore, this cannot continue. In fact, I believe that it is you, Sister Mary, who is responsible not any so-called sex demons. I think you have been the one causing the abuse … gentle, tender, and kind … spare the rod and spoil the child … they need strict discipline … the kind that Sister Hillary is talking about and more.”

“More! Gawd Almighty!” cried Sister Mary as she physically crumbled and fell to the ground.

Sister Gabrielle immediately bent down in aid of her fallen Sister.

“Leave her,” I scoffed, “Sister Hillary, we have much to do here.”

Sister Hillary stared in disbelief. She looked about to burst with excitement.

“Sister Gabrielle … gather help and take this thing …” I pointed to the crumpled body of Sister Mary “… to the infirmary. I want her lashed to the bed. Her punishment for failure will be decided later. Then you must quickly return to my side.”

“Yes … Sister Rebecca,” nervously answered Sister Gabrielle.

Her excitement at being of use to Sister Rebecca was obvious, as she hurried away to get help.

I put my arm around the shoulders of young Sister Hillary and drew her close to me. I could sense the dilemma of the young Sister’s discomfort, sexual arousal, and our mutual arousal.

“Gather Brother Simon and Sister Valerie … they are loyal to you?” I whispered.

“Yes. Completely.”

“Brother Simon and Sister Valerie have been the ones abusing these young ones in secret haven’t they,” I implied the sentiment that she was also involved.

“Errr … well, I … errr …” Fumbled Sister Hillary.

Thinking that maybe she had escaped detection. She would have to give them up.

“Well my dear … we need to talk more explicitly about a new approach to the treatment of these nasty little vermin. We want them all pleasuring themselves openly, displaying their little genitals for our mutual desire, and performing sex acts for me and with me by the end of today.”

“Ohhhh … Sister Rebecca … you mean you want us to sexually abuse these children?” I could hear her voice quiver with anticipation.

“Put it this way … those that don’t comply willingly will be made to conform under your new regime of control and punishment … no … let’s call it what it is … I WANT TO WITNESS FIRST HAND THE EXTENT OF THE open sexual abuse and sexual torture that YOU AND THE OTHERS CAN ADMINISTER … we sadist must stick together my dear … let the humiliation be open and the cruelty be severed. Am I making myself perfectly clear?”

“You are truly a Priestess of Satan?”

“And what if I was? Would you go running the Reverend? Or would you follow your blackened heart and kneel before me?”

Without hesitation, Sister Hillary knelt before me. The wanton expression on her face told me everything I needed to know.

“ABUSE … unbridled ABUSE … THAT’S WHAT I WANT TO SEE … dished out for the glory of SATAN … you are a servant to the same master. I will see to it that you fully reward my dear. NO LIMITS … I want their souls … all of them … handed on a platter to HIM … you may use whatever means necessary … we shall rape the young, drink the blood of the pure, and eat the souls of innocence.”

I opened my tunic and guided my new servant’s open mouth toward my steamy hot cunt. My cunt juices were already dripping down the inside of my thighs, as Sister Hillary’s tongue searched the soft wetness between my labia.

“Receive the blessing of the High Priestess!” I chanted, “For I am the MOTHER OF DARKNESS… the unholy bride of SATAN … who shall be obeyed.”



“For such are false apostles, deceitful workers, transforming themselves into the apostles of Christ. And no marvel; for Satan himself is transformed into an angel of light. Therefore it is no great thing if his ministers also be transformed as the ministers of righteousness; whose end shall be according to their works.” — 2 Corinthians, chapter 11, verses 13-15

Sister Hillary eagerly took me down to the damp subbasement level of the orphanage to the gloomy dorm rooms without windows that Sister Mary had talked about – to the place where they kept those that had been segregated with cause to believe that they may be the abusers or infected by sexual demons. The place stank of stale urine and feces. Each of the dark and gloomy rooms was furnished with rows of low wooden bunk beds filled with half-naked children, their arms tied to the rickety bed frames to prevent them from indulging in any further self-pleasuring.

“We used to take turns Sister Rebecca.” Said Sister Hillary secretively. “One is a lookout for Sisters and Brothers that do not partake in our sexual activities with the children, while the rest take their pleasure here. It has been this way for the past few months. I think Sister Mary suspects but does not know the extent of our sexual activities … most of the young ones here are more receptive to our advances … we reward those who please us with fresh water and food … those who refuse don’t last very long.”

My hands strayed along the body of a young twelve-year-old boy lying in the lower bunk with his hands tied tightly by his sides. I pulled down his stained bed shorts, exposing his flaccid little penis. Sister Hillary watched eagerly, touching herself beneath her tunical.

“What is your name boy?” I asked.

“Vinny. The nice Sisters call me Vinny.”

“Well Vinny, I have been told that you have been doing something you shouldn’t?”

“Untie me Miss … please Miss … I’ll be gawd … Promise” he crowed.

His expression told a very different story.

I took his dirty little cock between my thumb and forefinger and felt it harden immediately. I could feel his desire stir within. Yes, demons were at work … corrupting and debasing from within.

“Oh YES MISS … TOUCH ME THERE MISS … MAKE ME CUM MISS … LET ME FUCK YOUR HAND MISS …” said the voice of the young boy with a mind that was already polluted and a soul that was rift for Satan.

His narrow hips jerked up and down against my fingers, masturbating himself against my hand in the process. I allowed him to do this for several minutes, lubricated by the clear fluids that seeped from the eye of his tiny hard phallus.

“He’s a very naughty one Sister Hillary,” I remarked as I tightened my grip on his genitals.

“He certainly is Sister Rebecca,” answered the salivating nun.

Soon the boy’s breathing became shallow, he gasped for breath, and with a sudden stiffening of his entire body, he began to twitch violently feeling the power of his first satanic orgasm from his High Priestess.

“ARRRGHHHHHHHHHHHHHH …” the kid cried and shot his clear liquid load across his stomach and chest.

Sister Hillary immediately bent down and began enthusiastically licking the semen trail from the boy’s limp body. Her enjoyment encouraged me as I moved to the next bunk. Another young boy lay similarly to Vinny. He had been watching my progress with the previous boy and looked hopeful of similar treatment.

“What is your name boy?” I asked as I stroked his stalk-like matted hair.

“Roger Miss … are yer goin’ ta do me like Vinny?”

“We will have to see about that Roger,” I answered.

I pulled down his grubby shorts to find his cock was already semi-hard and wet with pre-cum. This time I took the child’s underdeveloped sex organ into my mouth, sucking it while my tongue made slow swirls around Roger’s tiny cock head – savoring the sweetness of his youthful juices.

“Awwwkkkkkkkkkkkk …” he groaned.

My hand slipped between his smooth hairless legs and fingered his dirty little butt hole. I felt him wriggle against my index finger as it wormed its way inside his filthy tight rectum.

“Awwwkkk … FUCK!” Roger groaned, half in pleasure and half in discomfort caused by my sharp fingernails.

Working my tongue around the crown of his underdeveloped knob, he squirmed in total ecstasy. Groans and grunts affirmed the thrusting of his small hips against my face, as he fucked against the strong suction created by my expert mouth.

“Awwwkkkkhhhggg … FUCK YER!” he groaned louder and louder, as every eye in the room seemed to try and see what was happening to Roger.

The taste inside my mouth told me that he was about to ejaculate when I released him.

“Awwww …. Don’t stop MISS PLEEEZE … Don’t stop now!!!”

“Praise the devil and I will give you what you want.”

“Anyfing …MISS PLEEEZE … PLEEEEEEZE … agghhhhh…” he groaned in complete frustration and twisted against the steadfast restraints.

“Repeat after me. Christ be fucked forever.”

“Christ … er … be fucked forever.”

“Louder. I want everyone here to hear it.”


“Again …”


My hand immediately returned to eager genitals, my nails raked his tiny ball sacks, lightly penetrating his anus, whilst gripping his thin shaft and thrusting his tight foreskin back and forth over his ridge little bullet. Within minutes he began panting uncontrollably, groaning again louder and louder.


And with that, his cum flew from his penis across his chest and chin. His tongue licked his salty lips as Sister Hillary lapped up the rest.

I contemplated what sadistic pleasures I could unleash there and then, but thought about changing tact. I opened my tunic and watched Sister Hillary do the same. Her eyes flashed with deviant passion, as she sank her fingers into her soaked snatch and enjoyed the residual taste of the young boy’s jism in her mouth.

As I moved to the next bunk bed Sister Hillary turned to me.

“Are we going to do them all?” her enthusiasm for the deed was obvious.


I moved to the next wooden bunk to find its occupant struggling against his restraints. His eyes filled with lust and his cock was already fully erect. I gently stroked his matted filthy hair as I tore his shorts away.

“What is your name boy?”

“Tommy Miss. FUCK GOD!!! I LOVE THE DEVIL MISS. He makes me hard Miss! FUCK JESUS! FUCK GOD!”

Turning to Sister Hillary I smiled malevolently. I gripped his cock which seemed disproportionately large for his body size.

“The DEVIL has blessed you, my son!”

I gripped his cock flesh hard the thrust my wrist up and down, pumping his foreskin back to fully reveal his bright red cock head.

“Come, Sister … climb upon his cot.”

I didn’t have to ask twice. In a flash she was naked, rubbing her eager wet cunt and standing above the boy.

“The DEVIL needs boys like you Tommy. Will do his bidding?”

“Ohhh … YES MISS. FUCK YER!!!”

“Then you shall receive his reward,” I said plainly.

Sister Hillary sank herself onto his cock. It slid upwards, her downward movement thrusting it balls deep into her hot wet snatch.

“AARGGHHHHHHHHH!!!” groaned Sister Hillary.

I watched as she rode the boy for several minutes until he convulsed in the throws of orgasm, shooting his boy’s semen deep into Sister Hillary’s womb. As she climbed off from the boy’s spent cock, she wiped her dripping labia, bringing her soaked fingers to her mouth tasting the mixture of cunt juices and jism.

I moved passed the spent Tommy to the next small wooden cot. The boy was much younger than Tommy or the other two boys. I looked down at him and he looked back at me with abject fear, obviously an innocent caste in shame by some misdemeanor. I roughly pulled his shorts down and gazed upon his flaccid little cock.

“Plea-s-e d-d-don’t h-h-hurt m-m-me,” sobbed the young boy.

His body seemed to quake in complete panic.

“Why shouldn’t I hurt you, boy?” Looking downwards, I sneered at him.

“I-I-I am n-n-not like the r-r-r-rest of them … I-I-I d-d-don’t b-belong h-here …”

“That may be so … Sister, can you untie Tommy, Roger, and Vinny and bring them to me…”

Sister Hillary did as I ordered and brought the three eager young boys. All of their cocks were already stiff again as Sister Hillary forced them to their knees in front of me.

“Miss?” Vinny looked at me, not knowing if they were in trouble or not.

“What do you think we should do with this one?” I asked him, casually pointing towards the boy in the cot next to me.

“Well, Miss… I… well, if it was up to me?” He answered with another question clearly unsure of where I was going with this.

“Yes Vinny, if it was up to you. How shall we punish him?” I affirmed.

“Fuck him Miss … we’d do him Miss … use his ‘oles … do it hard … fuck his ass and mouth … then KILL HIM FOR SATAN!”

“Well,” I paused, “What are you all waiting for, I haven’t got all day. FUCK HIM… FUCK HIM HARD … AND THE KILL HIM … DO IT NOW!”

Tommy, Vinny, and Roger looked at each other. Each had their own cocks in their hands and was already masturbating furiously. As I turned my back, I looked over my shoulder seeing the three bigger boys forcing themselves upon the small one, still restrained in the cot, he was unable to fight against their unwanted advances – Tommy had taken a prone position between the boy’s thighs and was in the process of feeding his eager big cock into the boy’s narrow ass. The boy screamed until Roger and Vinny gagged him with their cocks, forcing them both into the boy’s open mouth, preventing him from screaming and reducing the boy’s reaction to a gagging mute sound as Vinny’s and Roger’s hips maliciously pumped back and forth into his face.

Sister Hillary watched and pleasured herself, obviously enjoying the rape.

“As much as I am enjoying myself, we are done here. We have some work to be done. Those of the clergy that do not abuse must be replaced immediately with our brethren who enjoy the sins of the flesh … then and only then will WE BE FREE TO ABUSE THEM … TO ABUSE THEM ALL … OPENLY … and then we will release all the demon children from their bonds and replace them with the ones who will NOT do as we command.”

“Sister of Satan, I will gather the Brothers and Sisters that can be trusted with your plan … they will kneel as I did … with your authority, I will dismiss those who would report us … and then our evil brethren will see to it that all are abused and murdered!!”

“Sister … Do not allow Sister Mary to leave, she will be our guest of honor at our grand ritual tonight … I want her fat cunt brutalized before we kill her … I want them all praising their new lord … DO I MAKE MYSELF CLEAR?”

“Oh, YES SISTER! We understand! Christ be fucked forever!”


When I entered her office, I looked upon the twisted bronze body of Christ in Nazarene. Crucifix, nailed by the wrists and ankles – a painfully slow death, yet his phallus stood erect and curved upwards towards this heaving chest. My vagina poured like a waterfall. Reverend Angela was staring down at the broad pages of aged parchment splay across her dark mahogany desk. I coughed into my fist and she looked up from her scriptures.

“Oh, Sister Rebecca. We missed you for the past two night masses?”

I smiled to myself, trying hard to hide my debauched thoughts from the Reverend, thinking about the fate of the obese Sister Mary as we impaled her thickset body upon the largest of the long wooden dildo poles. Her humiliating death was so blissful. Over twenty inches of carved cock and with a girth of about six inches, the impossibly brutal phallus pierced her body moving upward from her torn cunt lips, through her guts as her own body weight impaling her upon it like a spear.

The pain was excruciating and her death took longer than I thought. Watching her suffer had brought me to several exquisite orgasms as I defecated upon the upturned face of a naked toddler… all around the screaming Sister Mary, her blessed young ones fucked and sucked the other clergy in our demonic rape celebration.

“Yes. My apologies Reverend … I was detained at the old orphanage.”

“Oh yes. I heard that there had been a problem there.”

“It was dealt with Reverend. You will hear of no more problems from the orphanage. The capable Brothers and Sisters there – have everything under control now.”

“I heard that Sister Mary was experiencing some difficulties. Something about abuse, something about sex demons?”

“Nothing of the sort Reverend. Complete fiction. It was her, Sister Mary’s own incompetence, that led to the untenable situation.”

“She was very overworked. I should have seen that coming.”

“I have bad news to report about Sister Mary. Her failing health and the pressure was just too much …”

“Is she going to be alright?”

I was not sure whether the Reverend looked concerned or just very curious.

“Unfortunately, I was unaware of how pressured she was, and when I confronted her about the situation at the orphanage, she suffered, what must have been, a massive heart attack … sad to say she passed away in the early hours of this morning.”

“I shall say something at the service tonight.”

“A prayer to Jesus …” I looked up again at the naked prone body, contorted in pain but nonetheless very erect.

The Reverend’s eyes followed mine and smiled.

“Have you given thought to your performance for our Beneficiaries?” She asked as I continued to salivate at the site of the blasphemously erect Nazarene.

“Yes Reverend … but I wanted to ask your advice …”

“Yes, my dear.”

“I saw the evil displayed by Sister Marinette’s portrayal of Vodou from her homeland. It was simply shocking … a helpless young child died as a consequence. Isn’t that enough to convince them?”

“I agree it was shocking. But think of all the sympathy it created. The outpour of concern for our Beneficiaries was realized in large cash donations that we collected for our continued efforts at the Ministry. What is one life against the many that benefit? Yes. They need to be shocked. Again. Again. And again! As many times as necessary! You were crowned as a Bride of Satan … a creative of abject evil … sin flowed through you freely and wantonly.”

“I have your blessing to do whatever I feel is justified?”

My cunt flowed, as I crystallized my plan. I wondered if my arousal was concealed well enough from the determined Reverend — her course hell-bent on appeasing her blessed Beneficiaries. Was she blind to their intoxication in the perverted and murderous displays?

“Of course!”

“Even if it involved taking the lives of several innocents?”


To be continued …


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