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.

AUTHORS NOTES: So this is part three. Thanks again to Shellshock for his narrative outline for this interesting blasphemous story. I hope you like my treatment and storytelling. As in the previous chapters, please forgive me for taking artistic license, as some situations, characters, and sequencing have been altered from the original. I will post the original narrative outline up in the posts section for anyone interested in submitting a similar proposal. What I liked about Shellshock’s outline was that there was enough detail to frame the content and enough latitude for me to put myself into it.

STORY CODES: Blasphemy, Sacrilege, LGBTQ, Young, WS, Supernatural, Demonic, Satanic, Abuse, Corruption, Evil, Devil Worship, NC, Sexual Sin, Sex Demons.

CREATED: 24.07.2018 / REVISITED: 20.10.2023

Requiem Of Sins 3 – Sister Alice’s Tale


Unlocking the sexual powers of darkness is the focus of much occult literature; but more specifically the major subject of the forbidden text known as the Libra Diabolica Sexualis (also known as the Requiem of Sins). An ancient Arabian book of occult astrology and dark magic dating back to the 10th or 11th century, it gained notoriety for the obscene nature of its magical rites and recipes. With its cryptic astrological descriptions and spells covering almost every conceivable hidden wish or desire, the Requiem of Sins was said to slowly reveal itself to its reader, its perverted content ever urging greater wickedness, like an evil journey of demonic corruption. Among some of its more controversial contents were highly sexualized rituals and rites performed before wicked demonic idols. During these activities, the physical orgasm was not the ultimate goal. It was repeated and prolonged perverted sexual excitement that placed the participants in a state between full exhaustion and full wakefulness. This would allow them to commune with their inner demonic self and open themselves up to reveal their true nature in the worship of evil.


It was a time before mobile phones and the Internet. Originally sent by the Abbott to help Father Henry and his sinful wife, in Holy Oak, Sister Alice witnessed, and became a key party in the good Father’s fall from grace. Now induced into their satanic enclave, Sister Alice was keen to corrupt other pure young nuns and acolytes. But, with a recommendation from Father Henry, the Abbott sent her to join Father Ambrosio in a convent dedicated to rooting out and destroying secret satanic cabals. These secret cabals involved some of the most famous, rich, and powerful (who had sought to use the powers of darkness for their own gains). The ambitious Father Ambrosio, who hand-picked his team, was resentful of intrusion but conceded to the Abbott’s request for Sister Alice to be a part of his elite. Father Henry, thought it was like a cuckoo, laying its egg in the nest of another … only bad things could happen … only evil could transpire.


The icy rain began to fall, under a foreboding sky that threatened to spoil any tranquility in the Holy Chapel garden that overlooked the Wolfgangsee lake.

Sister Alice had arrived on the continent only a few days prior, to begin her new assignment from the Abbott. She had been assigned to the Convent of St. Wolfgang. It was a Holy Order led by the infamous Father Ambrosio. She had met the man only once, but she could sense his frustrations, even a slight resentment of her presence (as if her being at the convent, was not by his own choice). He was just lousy at disguising his own feelings … or maybe it was because Sister Alice was too astute to not notice.

She was still in the process of figuring out what it was exactly that the St. Wolfgang Convent Sisters did there. Research into the powers of darkness? To understand the occult? To develop a counter-plot to stop the infernal rot? That had been what she had been told. There had also been talk about certain satanic forces and the existence of secret cabals. What were they up to? Sister Alice could see evidence of much more than just so-called research — there were signs of something far more combatant, but she kept her evil little head down and observed.

They seemed a disparate group of individuals (all from various Orders across the Ministry), that had been supposed hand-picked by the Convent’s enigmatic leader. Sister Alice was supposedly the only exception; joining them on the rendings of her previous assignment to Father Henry of Holy Oak, who had recommended her on her abilities concerning preternatural forces. Maybe that was the source of the Father’s disagreement with her.

She looked up at the tempest sky that formed over the irregularities of the dark Gothic architecture. She marveled at the spiraling black towers, spiked forms of the flying buttresses, and silhouettes of the many demonic gargoyles. It was easy to imagine that the church had really been built by the labor of the Devil himself…

The legend of St. Wolfgang was certainly an incredulous one. St. Wolfgang was said to have been born circa 934 in Swabia, Germany. He was a student at the famous Benedictine Abbey of Reichenau before taking up studies in Würzburg. His ascetic tendencies led him to join the Benedictines at Einsiedeln, where he was appointed head of their monastery school. Supposedly, as the legend goes, St. Wolfgang climbed a nearby mountain peak and threw an axe into the valley below, saying that wherever it landed was to be the site of his new church. St. Wolfgang had difficulty in finding the necessary building resources and was unable to build it himself, the Devil appeared unto him and struck a deal, The Devil said that he would build the new church in return for the first soul to enter. St. Wolfgang agreed and the Devil did build his church, but of demonic design. Upon completion and to claim his prize, the Devil waited, only to find that a hungry wolf was the first to enter. The Devil was furious, but the deal was done.

A singular robed figure appeared in the Holy Chapel doorway. It was definitely not one of the Sisters. Sister Alice recognized the thin stature of this man whose reputation was one of a maverick within the Order. It was Father Ambrosio. He beckoned her out of the falling rain.


Father Ambrosio was an austere man in his forties. He was of slight build, hardly that of a warrior – but never the less a committed soldier of God. The deep furrows of his dark skin echoed his Afro-Caribbean descent. He appeared battle-hardened; if one was to believe all the stories of righteous godliness, exorcisms, and demon-hunting.

“Sister Alice. I hear good things about you from Holy Oak.” Said Father Ambrosio.

His words and his expression seemed in conflict.

“My wish is to serve you and the Order,” lied the nun in her most humblest of manners.

She did not want to appear too forward or to raise the priest’s suspicions any further.

“The Abbott mentioned your predisposition towards the dealings with the preternatural?”

Could this be the purchase she sorted? Her so-called preternatural capabilities and her demonic love were interwoven. She needed to be careful, not to say too much too soon, but also she needed to win over this difficult priest. His seduction would not be easy.

“Yes. I have from a very early age, felt the presence of a great evil. The darkness knows no end. It is the reason that I became a nun; though, in the beginning, it was motivated more by fear than anything else. But now, I feel, among your Sisters, that I have a new role to play.”

Father Ambrosio looked unmoved.

“Well, your fellow Sisters, Sister Mary Ann, Sister Jessica, Sister Rachel, and Sister Edith, have all been here with me, for a while. Though we are well-resourced from the Ministry and have many supporters within the Church — the truth is that we’re thinly spread and our tasks are increasingly difficult and frequent … It seems that in the short time that we have all been together, the threat of the dark forces, have increased far beyond our expectations.”

“Tell me what is it that I can do?”

“Well, Sister. That remains to be seen. You are at this point, still untested. Though you are confident in your abilities, my responsibility is to protect the Order, and the Sisters and hopefully to destroy evil-doers.”

“I understand Father and I will do all I can to help,” she lied again.

“We say that knowledge is the first step. But knowledge is benign. I seek to find ways to disrupt and destroy the secret cabals of evil. They are everywhere, but nowhere. They hide in plain sight … evil men and women … usually powerful, rich. They sit as overlords, government, celebrities, and royalty. They pleasure themselves at the pain and suffering of others. Perverted sex demons of the living world. They must be destroyed!”

“Yes Father.”

“It will be a steep learning curve, but we need to move faster.”

“Sister Mary Ann and Sister Sophia, have been cataloging, what we refer to as the ‘Books of Vice’. Our library is one of the best resources we have, in the fight against evil. We have been researching this dark literature for some time. We look for their weaknesses and try to understand how best to defeat them.”

Father Ambrosio pointed to the huge oil painting that hung above the fireplace. Sister Alice looked up at the imposing artwork.

“It’s the story of our founder.”

“St. Wolfgang?”

“Yes. The painting depicts the Saint affronting the disappointed Devil. The Devil is holding open one of the many ‘Books of Vice’ — supposedly to tempt St. Wolfgang with the power of dark carnal knowledge. It was created sometime at the end of the fifteenth century. A long time ago. But, it’s a reminder of how the Saint tricked him into building this very church. The Devil was promised the first soul to set foot across the threshold in exchange for his labor; unfortunately, the Devil (who fully expected a human ‘offering’) got only a hungry wolf! The artist’s delightful work shows the anger of the Devil as he tries to argue his case against the Saint who just swindled him.”

“You said that you seek to ‘destroy them’, the demons, I mean? How?”

“All in good time Sister Alice. Now, I wanted you to meet Sister Mary Ann. She is the keeper of our knowledge. Our library is where you will start your journey. You must read and appreciate the extent of this evil – you must learn how they employ vice and sin to tempt and corrupt. They know no limits to their perversity and debauchery.”


Father Ambrosio had given Sister Alice a quick tour of the nunnery which concluded at the great library. Their soft footsteps echoed in the cavernous interior. There was a strong smell of freshly cut grass and French vanilla mingled with other distinctive aromas like egg tempera, aged leather, and ancient parchment.

Sister Alice glanced along the many darkly wrapped volumes in peculiar Latin, English, German, Dutch, and French. They ranged from ancient Judaic to Thelemite, Grimoire to Etruscan, Kabbalah to Satanic, and Assyrian to Babylonian. It really was a treasure trove of evil Medieval occult literature.

A small bookish woman of Asian descent appeared in her simple white linen robe, apron, and wimple. She pushed her dark-rimmed glasses up her nose and looked labored as she carried several heavy volumes under one of her arms. The bespectacled librarian smiled at the sight of Father Ambrosio.

“Sister Mary Ann.”

“Father,” she answered demurely.

“May I introduce Sister Alice? She joins us with a strong render from Holy Oak.”

Sister Mary Ann put down the heavy manuscripts on one of the wooden desks that lined the library and wiped her hands upon her apron. Extending her hand, she took Sister Alice’s in a gentle, but moist, grip.

“Welcome Sister,” she said.

There was a flash before Sister Alice’s eyes. For the tiniest of moments, she seemed to glance straight into Sister Mary Ann’s soul. The soft moan of sensual delight. Candle flicker. Sapphic pleasures washed across her mind, seeing the naked Asian Sister pleasuring herself upon a long white candle that had been lovingly carved into a phallus. The groaning and gyrating nun seemed to the masturbating, as she guiltily whispered all manner of blasphemous profanities. Oh, sweet Satan. Sister Alice grinned unto herself.

“Thank you. It is an honor to be here,” replied Sister Alice as she held onto Sister Mary Ann’s hand.

Her cunt twitched and purred.

“… Where even the welcome daylight strains, But duskily through the painted panes. Hemmed in by many a toppling heap, Of books worm-eaters, gray with dusk, Which to the vaulted ceiling creep …” recited Sister Mary Ann.

“The library covers many aspects of our evil foe; alchemy, astrology, magic, coded mythology, medical procedures, rites and rituals, incantations,” said Father Ambrosio breaking their secretively erotic introduction.

“Even poetry,” affirmed Sister Mary Ann.

She smiled forlornly.

“But, I’m guessing that we need to focus on the more sinfully macabre; the evilly murderous; and the relentless demonic?”

“Yes, Sister,” said another voice from behind.

It was another nun, who looked the antithesis of Sister Mary Ann. Her face was beautiful but solemn and very serious. Her body looked strong and masculine in stature.

“Sister Jessica,” said Sister Jessica, introducing herself to Sister Alice, and pumping her hand.

Again, another flash. Like a bolt of white lightning. This time there was a vision of death and destruction. Blood everywhere. Sister Alice heard the distinctive screams of devil worshipers, as they ran in black robes, some even naked, all being slain around here. Fire and brimstone. Their helpless bodies fell as their baphometic idols and their inverted crosses burned. Light over darkness. Evil vanquished. A warning then? No … There among the rumble of what must have been their temple of sin, hid Sister Jessica, cowling, afraid of something that seemed to be stalking her … Maybe evil would still prevail?

Sister Alice recoiled but managed to disguise her shock.

“Sister Alice,” she mumbled in response.

“Father Ambrosio spoke of you. Just wanted to extend my welcome to our little hunting party.”


Sister Alice lit a number of scented candles and lay naked on the top of her course bedding in her monastic accommodation. She inspected the tattooed sigils emblazoned upon her mons. Hail the true god. Hail Satan. Christ be Fucked. She felt a deep connection to the evil that she was about to unleash on these weak, so-called, demon-hunters. How they would regret their ridiculous folly. They were demon meat — all of them. Hail darkness. Her breathing was fast and shallow in the candlelight. Hail succubi and incubi. It had been a long day in the convent and now she was finally alone with her evil sexual thoughts. Hail cunt and cock.

She deliberately stroked the meat of her moist labia, pressing her index finger deeply between her slippery wet slit. She brushed ever-so-slightly against her erect clitoris. Her clit purred as she teased closer and closer, drawing an inward spiral on course for a grossly oversized nub. She had experienced some physical changes since her induction in Holy Oak. The evil had inexorably affected her. Changed her. Transformed her forever. Her extended clitoris now resembled a long phallic finger as it now poked outwards from its insufficient clitoral hood — the flesh of which was open, exposing more of its phallic form. It felt so sinfully pleasurable to touch and stroke herself (much like she’d seen young boys masturbating their boy-sized penises).

“Fuck! Christ fucking Jesus!”

It felt so fucking good!

She thought back over the weirdness of the day.

There had been the introductions to the other nuns. All good god-fearing women. All dedicated to their holy cause. All ready to lay down their meaningless lives in the service of their beloved stupid Christ-fuck.

There had been the strange flashes of light; of weakness; that had filled Sister Alice’s senses. There was the sensual image of Sister Mary Ann secretly pleasuring herself (delicious). There had been the vision of Sister Jessica, cowardice, afraid of the dark (that had been even more delicious).

Sister Alice had participated in St. Wolfgang’s daily ritual mass and then she had started her ‘research’ in earnest; but unlike the others, who sought to find weaknesses in the occult, she sorted the sinful joy; the perverted pleasures; the power of the satanic orgasm.

While Sister Mary Ann and the others could only see these magical manuscripts as poetic cookbooks full of recipes, incantations, and spells; Sister Alice saw through the rhetoric of quirky spellings and the use of the ‘long s’; beyond the bizarrely displayed content and magical correspondence. She ignored the references to the healing powers of flora and fauna; the detailed astronomical phenomena, lengthy linguistic etymologies, and numerological discourses – Instead she secretly reveled in the obscene and cryptic sensuality.

She decoded the mythology of sexual debasement. One of the publications that they had completely overlooked (due to its invisible content) was the Libra Diabolica Sexualis; also known as the Requiem of Sins. The other Sisters of the research team could only see empty pages, some vagueness in the disembodied text among indecipherable symbols.

She reached across to the side table, next to the cot, and retrieved the large manuscript that she had brought with her. The Libra Diabolica Sexualis. It purred against her fingers with prickly electricity. She laughed to herself at their comments about its emptiness. They saw nothing. Buffoons. But she saw the devilment. Hail Satan. She had seen a copy of the Requiem before. It had been in the hands of devil worshipers of Holy Oak, at the time and she never imagined that she’d ever see it again. But here it was — another copy, sitting in the convent library.

She turned to the pages about self-debasement and urinated into a tin cup that she’d been provided with on the nightstand. She filled it to the brim with her hot salt piss and brought it to her lips — eager to say a vulgar prayer to the Goat Goddess (her unholy communism), as she rubbed harder against her thickening fleshy neb.

She looked upon the image of a naked woman, not so different from herself. The woman was illustrated in masturbation. The drawing showed how the woman’s clitoris had also been affected by demonic influences as she took on an increasingly hermaphroditic form. The incantation that accompanied it read …


There were many other images of baphometic masturbatory pleasuring, but Sister Alice skipped forward. The preternatural presided over the images that followed … as two female figures scissored together. The two conjoined women looked in rapturous pleasure, clit cock against clit cock, performing their sinful double-act before an effigy of the phallic Goat Goddess. Was it a statue? The illustrations made it look every bit as real as either of the copulating women.


It was truly a demonic freak. The large goat-headed beast with both cunt and cock. She felt her clit cock throb in ever-increasing pleasure. It felt bigger. YES! Sister Alice stroked her clit-cock harder and faster as she imagined herself there too — celebrating her sexual deformities with those who worshiped the goddess of dark joys.

Flickering candles cast eerie shadow shapes upon the bare stone walls as they danced with her in their increasingly frenzied ecstasy. Pleasure sparks shot upwards from deep inside her vaginal canal, rippling inside her gaping cunt hole and through her penile clitoris. Her mind was now imagining Sister Mary Ann. She saw her pleasuring herself upon the Asian nun’s face; forcing her to suck upon Sister Alice’s clit-cock; hot pungent piss spraying from her urethra; as she sang her praises to the Goat Goddess.

Yes. It would happen soon. Yes. She would get her wicked way. They would all fall to the powers of darkness. Every last one including the Father. She saw herself standing before him. She spat in his face. He was bound naked, stretched painfully against a St. Andrew’s cross. His followers had fallen under her spell. Sister Mary Ann, was only too eager to do her evil bidding. Father Ambrosia cried in anguish.

“What have you done? What have you done?”

The pain and humiliation of unwanted sexual pleasure. His body was no longer his own to control. His long black circumcised penis stood fully upright upon his heavy black-skinned testicles. A thick silver cock ring inscribed with sigils of devil worship wrapped around its base. Pre-cum dripped from its engorged black cock head as Sister Mary Ann masturbated his disobedient flesh.

“Praise Satan. Blessed Demons,” cooed Sister Rachel, her tongue retrieving the dripping essence from Father Ambrosia’s twelve-inch cock.

He begged them to stop. He begged them all to repent. He begged all of those who now knelt before the goat-headed Baphomet to turn back to God. They could still find God’s salvation. But that isn’t what they wanted. No. They all masturbated furiously against their crosses as they watched him humiliating crucifixion.

He tried to say something about it ‘not being too late’. God Almighty. Blessed Jesus. But these were his last words as he began to scream. It was razor sharp, The sacred knife gleamed in the iridescent candlelight as she brought it close to his manhood.

“Hail Satan. Hail Satan.”

They cried as they watched with anticipation; each of them on the brink of their own individual orgasms. Yes. Yes. Yes.

“Sacrifice. Sacrifice.”

Hell’s drums beat loudly in her eyes. The sacrifice was to be made. The knife sliced through the soft tissue of Father Ambrosia’s genitals. The red blood spray that followed, went everywhere as Sister Alice sliced his cock off at the root. He screamed over and over as they all chanted.

“Hail Satan. Hail Satan.”

And with that last thought, Sister Alice began to buck wildly and moan in her unsuccessful efforts to maintain control; it was too late; a wicked crescendo washed over her, like a tsunami in her mind of evil and forbidden pleasure.

“Aaarghhhhhhhhhh!” she gasped.



Sister Alice spied the skeleton key hanging on the waist tie of Sister Mary Ann, as she slept against her desk that was piled high with various old documents and manuscripts. She purred in her sleep as Sister Alice gently stirred her.

“You must be exhausted?” asked Sister Alice.

“Oh. I must have nodded off.”

“Why don’t you get some rest? Even an hour will help?”

“Bless you, my dear. I have so much to do. It all gets a little too much sometimes you know. I left the storeroom unlocked. I’d better lock it before I put my head down.”

“Let me do that for you.”

“Well, I’m not supposed to.”

“Who will know?”

“I guess,” Sister Mary Ann stood up from her desk, “Can you awaken me upon the hour?”

“Of course,” answered Sister Alice reassuringly.

Sister Alice took the skeleton key and watched Sister Mary Ann make her way out of the old library. At last, she thought. Sister Alice made her way quickly to the storeroom, which had been deemed off-limits to her — and had consequently piqued her interest. Her cunt still felt raw from her all-night session.

Curiously, she’d overheard that the ‘store’ held an incredible arsenal of strange artefacts and treasures that had been either found, captured, stolen, or confiscated during Father Ambrosio’s campaigns against the forces of darkness. She’d overheard about the bizarre tools of exorcism and demon-hunting that were supposed to be effective in the war against the secret satanic cabals.

As she made her way to the entry, she heard a loud ruckus. Screaming and yelling. The sound was loud and Sister Mary Ann quickly emerged from her quarters rubbing her eyes. Had there been a fight breaking out? Sister Alice forgot about her original pursuit and quickly ran towards the noise.

“What’s going on?” asked Sister Mary Ann.

“I’m not sure.” Answered Sister Alice.

“I’d better take back the key.” Sister Mary Ann added.

Sister Alice reluctantly gave up the skeleton key. Shit. Thought Sister Alice. She would now have to find another excuse to take a look in the ‘store’.

The two nuns walked quickly together towards the skirmish. There, in the antechamber, they saw Father Ambrosio and Sisters Jessica, Sophia, and Edith. The four of them were all struggling to hold down a wild woman that they held in medieval-looking hand shackles with a connected metal neck collar. Though she was not overly large, the prisoner thrashed against her bindings, blaspheming as she spat in their faces.

“Let me go. Christ Fuck. Let me go!”

Sister Alice held her distance. She saw the woman’s naked body was covered with sigil tattoos, not so dissimilar to her own. A member of a secret satanic cabal, maybe? The three Sisters held her tightly as Father Ambrosio pulled her long brown hair down sharply, so that she was forced to look upwards into his angry face.

“Fuck you!” she spat.

Her face was gorgeous and didn’t suit the language that came out of her pretty mouth. She stared unblinkingly at Father Ambrosio with her hypnotic hazel-brown cat eyes and perfectly shaped eyebrows. Father Ambrosio returned the measured stare. He smirked with complete contempt. Sister Alice could see that this was no wild woman, but a beauty with elegant features. Too refined to be a common lady of the night? Her tanned physique and proportions were that of a classic Renaissance painting.

“Take her to the holding cell in the basement. No food, water, or light … That should loosen your sacrilegious tongue. And when you’re done blaspheming, I want to know the hidden location of your cabal. You will tell me everything, make no mistake. We will do whatever it takes to get what we want. Understand?”

“Go fuck yourself, Father Fuck-face. You have no idea what you’ve got yourself into.”

“Then, enlighten me, my dear?”

Father Ambrosio grabbed her roughly by the neck, just above the heavy metal collar that wrapped front and back — the chock-hold was hard and Sister Jessica held his arm to calm him down.

“Okay! Okay! I’m done for now,” he said to Sister Jessica.

“And you will talk,” he redirected his harshness to their prisoner, “And the sooner you do, the better for you.”

“Sol vive Satana (Satan alone lives).”

He slapped the woman hard across the face with his heavy open hand.


Maybe the blow was a little too hard. There was blood across her face and then the woman’s head hung loosely. Maybe she had succumbed to the exhaustion of the fight. Sisters Sophia and Edith dragged her limp naked body away, leaving Sister Jessica and Father Ambrosio.

“That was reckless,” Father Ambrosio reprimanded the stoic priest to his underling, “We could lose this lead. They could escape us now because of your hasty actions!”

‘But, we got the ‘Raven’. She’s the key. She will lead us to them? And the child — what about the child sacrifice? We saved her! She would have surely died at the hands of this evil bitch?” Stuttered Sister Jessica apologetically.

“A child’s life is precious. But they will sacrifice another child in her place. They will sexually abuse, rape, kill, and bath in its blood (as we speak). We cannot win this war by short measure — we have to cut off the Gorgon’s head!”

“I’m sorry. I just …”

“I know Sister. I know. Where’s the child now?”

“With Sister Rachel. The young girl was unharmed but traumatized. She’s resting.”

It was then, that Father Ambrosio noticed Sister Alice and Sister Mary Ann.

“Sister Alice I need your help.”

“Yes Father?”

“Go and relieve Sister Sophia and Sister Edith. I want you to keep a vigil over this evil woman. If she says anything, I want to know immediately. You understand? Anything! Time is not on our side. Their cabal must be found and destroyed. Use your preternatural understanding to open her up. Get her to trust you. Anything she says, share it with Sister Mary Ann and I. She can use it to find the cabal. We must find out where they are!”

“Yes, Father. Your words are to be obeyed.”


Sister Mary Ann looked stressed out. She was sweating profusely as she escorted Sister Anne to the chambers deep below the monastery. The steps spiraled steeply downwards at an acute angle into the pitch black. Both Sister Mary Ann and Sister Alice carried candles to light their way, but neither was sufficient. Sister Alice reached out and took Sister Mary Ann’s hand. She held them tightly and felt a tingling between them. Sister Mary Ann could be turned. She could feel it, sinfully there. To be exploited when necessary.

The bare rock steps looked ancient, as if they were carved out of solid stone, and the staircase walls looked to be the same. The devil’s design. Silent. There was no sound. Beneath as above. The crazy Gothic geometry appeared so diabolical, that the legends of St. Wolfgang seemed evidenced by it.

Finally, they reached the bottom of the spiral staircase.

“I fear that the cabal of Satanists may already know that we’re onto them.”

“Who are they?” asked Sister Alice.

Sister Mary Ann answered the best she could.

“Well, according to Sister Jessica, she believes that they consist of the city’s most powerful. Lords and Ladies. Gentry. They have great financial resources. I know that Sister Jessica did the right thing, to rescue the child, but the price we may pay is very high.”

“We must find out more from this woman.”

“The ‘Raven’. I believe I heard Sister Jessica call her, Raven.”

“Raven? Interesting. We may need to resort to some unconventional means to get Raven’s confidence. I am not convinced that the Father’s blunt methods are going to work.”

“Something preternatural?” asked the nervous nun.

“Yes … And you will need to help me.”

“I was fearing you’d say that.”

“Trust me. If there was another way. But there isn’t,” lied Sister Alice.

Her cunt was getting wet just thinking about the nun’s imminent corruption.

“We’re here,” announced Sister Mary Ann.

Sister Alice drew back the metal slider and peered into the room beyond. The sound of scraping metal announced their arrival. Sister Alice could clearly see the hunched naked figure, held in manacles, sitting upon the small crib with her back against the stone wall. The high skylight provided enough light to illuminate the scene. She drew the slider closed.

Sister Alice opened the cell door. The wild woman, Raven, looked up. Sister Mary Ann seemed rooted to the spot as Sister Alice stepped inside the darkened room.

“What do you want fuckers! Come to watch me masturbate? Look at my hot horny wet cunt, wouldn’t you PENGUIN LICKERS love to get some of this hot hairless cunt? Hail Satan! Fuck Jesus Christ … give me your crucifix and let me show your lord a really good time in my juicy fuck hole … Maybe, I should jam him up my sodomite ass?”

Though the face didn’t fit the filth that came from her sexy mouth, Sister Mary Ann felt compelled to hold up her bible.

“Arrrghhhhh … Fuck! Shit! A bible … Fuck you! Did you bring it to me your fucking sacred book to PISS on? Soak the pages in my sour urine!”

Sister Alice laughed.

“Cute … Is that all you’ve got, creature of the night?” asked Sister Alice as she turned her back on the woman.


Leaving the cell, she closed the door behind her.

“Let her brew until later. I will bring her some food and begin the preternatural process.”

“What can I do?”

“Nothing for now. Leave me. I will call you when I need your help.”

Sister Mary Ann silently nodded with reluctance.


It was very late when Sister Alice returned. The night was warm and the moon was almost full when she returned to the cell. The distance sound of the church bells tolled from high up in the bell tower. She peered in through the metal slider. She didn’t want any surprises. Moonlight spilled in through the skylights and cast an eeriness inside the cell.

Carrying just a thin metal tray, containing a wooden plate of stale bread and a tin cup of water, she unlocked the door and entered the cell. The wild woman looked up at the wayward nun and grinned evilly. She continued masturbating before her solitary audience of one. Sister Alice just watched as the attractive woman’s nibble fingers, of one hand, dug deeply into her hot wet gash, while she rubbed her engrossed clitoris with the other.

“Raven, isn’t it?” asked Sister Alice, as if she were attending some Sunday school lesson.

The woman did not answer right away but continued to rub herself defiantly.

“I am Sister Alice and by the way, masturbation isn’t a real sin.”

“Arghhhhhh … FUCK ME JESUS … FUCK ME GOD! Arghhhhh …. Get your FUCKING NUN tongue up my stinking ass! Hail Satan … EAT ME OUT! FUCK! Arrrghhhh… Fucckkkkkk … Hail Satan! Hail Satan!”

Sister Alice could smell the pretty prisoner’s sexual arousal and it was making own her cunt steam profusely beneath her thin black robe as she watched the wild woman’s efforts to try and shock her.


Actually, Sister Alice could think of nothing more enjoyable than to sink for face straight between the woman’s spread thighs and lick her hot sticky labia. She remembered how she’d been turned by the evil women of Holy Oak — their masturbatory delights had sparked something unstoppable inside of her perverted mind. The gnashing of debauched desires had inspired her need to please Satan.

“I’m here to help you, Raven. We can help each other.”


Her lips looked parched. The prisoner was definitely dehydrated.

Sister Alice dropped the tray noisily. The stale loaf of bread and water spilled over the dirty cell floor.

“Oops!” she said in a mock surprise, “Raven, I appear to have spilled your water.”

Raven glared but said nothing.

“They want to know where the satanic cabal is hiding. They want you to give up your satanic friends. They believe you can be broken.”

Sister Alice picked up the tin cup and lifted her robe. She was naked beneath her gown. The moonlight fell across the white flesh of her thighs as she lifted the hem of her robe until she had exposed her tattooed mons. Her Satanic markings said it all. Now Raven looked on wide-eyed. Sister Alice could see that she was re-evaluating things. This had caught Raven by surprise. Raven could see Sister Alice’s true alliance, as she peed noisily into the tin cup, filling halfway, before cutting off the urine flow from her bloated bladder. She brought the tin cup to her quivering lips and drank her own urine.

“Mmmmmm! Life is full of surprises,” announced Sister Alice.

“It certainly is!” answered Raven.

Sister Alice offered Raven the cup of her dark yellow urine. She moved forward and placed the edge of the cup to Raven’s sexy lips.

“Let’s not disappoint these Christ fuckers. Let them believe that you are willing to help them. That it was my preternatural will that convinced you to cooperate with me. But instead, for the glory of Satan, we will lead them to their doom. Hail Satan!”

Raven grinned and drank greedily from the cup of Sister Alice’s hot salty piss.

“Hail Satan.”

Sister Alice removed her robe completely and climbed up over the crude crib, above where Raven was shackled to the wall.

“Suck my cunt, Raven!”

Raven’s eager mouth closed around Sister Alice’s hairless little cunt. Raven’s long tongue penetrated her sticky gash, lapping at the sexual secretions, like honey from a pot.

“Aargghhhhhhh …” Sister Alice groaned in sexual release.

Her mind was filled with evil cravings for Lilith, of Lamia, of Empusa, of Batibat … She pressed herself harder against Raven’s fervent up-turned mouth, coating her face in her sexual secretions. Raven’s teeth brushed against her swelling clit and began to poke forward, like a little boy-cock.

“You are truly perverted!” groaned the greedy Raven, who masturbated with greater ferocity; as she sucked upon Sister Alice’s engrossed clit-cock.

“Drink from me, Raven, and we shall sin together until dawn.”

Without another word, Sister Alice began to urinate directly into Raven’s open mouth. Her salty hot piss sprayed everywhere as she aimed for the Raven’s mouth. It quickly overflowed, as the hot piss poured out of the corners of Raven’s mouth and down over her naked tattooed breasts and torso. Raven reached up with her manacled hands and gripped Sister Alice’s thighs as she lapped hungrily at the nun’s pissy cunt and tangy asshole.

“Aarrrghhhhhh! Hail Satan! Fuck Christ!” moaned Sister Alice as the rush of orgasmic pleasure began to build inside her evil loins.

“Tomorrow we will corrupt the hapless Sister Mary Ann. She is a weakling just waiting to be turned. I know all her dirty little sinful secrets. She’ll do whatever we want. She’ll bring us the little girl, Zoe. We’ll sacrifice her to Satan in the church built by the devil – he will get his soul, but only after we have repeatedly raped and abused the little fucking bitch!”



It was in the early hours of the morning by the time Sister Alice returned to the library. She had taken the time to clean herself up and change her robes. The night’s perverted pleasures were still fresh in her mind and her cunt growled with sickly wantonness as she contemplated the next steps in her evil plan.

She arrived to find Sister Mary Ann tending to the young child who had been ‘saved’ from a fate worse than death. Sister Alice looked over her, like the hungry wolf that had first wandered into the church of St. Wolfgang (the first soul to be taken by the Devil). She would molest this pretty young thing with the Raven, and Sister Mary Ann would take the blame. Not yet. Oh, not yet. But soon. She tried to be calm and not get too far ahead of herself. There was much to do today.

“Good morning, Sister Alice.”

“Good morning, Sister Mary Ann.”

She returned the cordial greeting.

“This is Zoe. And Zoe, this is Sister Alice. She knew here, just like you.”

“Hi, Zoe.”

The little girl gave a pained smile, showing a broken front tooth.

“She was the young child that Sister Jessica saved,” Sister Mary Ann cuddled and patted Zoe’s blond hair. Zoe gave her a demure smile, ”You’re a lucky girl. The evil people are gone. You are completely safe here with us.”

Sister Alice grinned broadly at the angelic child, who was dressed in a small sleeveless white dress. Her tiny bare feet peeped out from beneath the hem. Her toes curled on the cold stone floor. Yes, she would have this one. Her first of many. Oh, the demonic bliss. Her cunt tunnel throbbed and became immediately soaking wet. She would share the delights with Raven for the greater glory of Satan.

“Later, I will show you around the church. If you like Zoe?” said Sister Alice.

Again, the girl responded minimally. She still looked tired and traumatized.

Turning to Sister Mary Ann, Sister Alice asked, “Sister Mary Ann, may I talk in private for a moment?”

“Of course.”

Sister Alice explained to Sister Mary Ann, that during the night, she’d had a preternatural dream, and in it was a clue to getting the prisoner to talk about the exact whereabouts of the satanic cabal. She hinted that this would be a difficult task for the both of them as it would mean performing a rather bizarre sexual ritual, but if they were successful, the woman would be compelled to tell them all.

Of course, Sister Mary Ann appeared more than a little skeptical, but her latent homosexual tendencies seemed to get the better of her. She was fair game.

“Sexual ritual, you say?” hesitantly asked Sister Mary Ann.

She seemed to quiver at the use of the very words ‘sexual ritual’.

“W-what kind of sexual ritual?”

To even consider the notion was a huge step forward. Sister Alice’s evil plan may still have merit.

“Yes. I know it sounds completely aberrant and unholy, but I saw it in one of the ‘Books of Vice’ … A kind of evil to fight evil. Black against black … Otherwise, I fear the satanist will escape before Sister Jessica has a chance to catch them,” she lied, “And then many young children, like Zoe, will suffer at the hands of these demonic sex perverts.”

“Oh, my. I don’t know what to say. Of course, we need to discuss this at length with Father Ambrosio.”

“Definitely not. The Father would not approve. He thinks that only combatant methods of persuasion will work. No, if we try this more covert way, and it is successful; it’s not about how we got the information, it’s the fact that we did. Father Ambrosia will be so impressed that you were able to get the information he needs, right?”

“I see what you are saying. I just …” mumbled Sister Mary Ann, obviously having second thoughts.

Sister Alice wanted to mount her pretty bespectacled face and force her to eat the steaming shit out of her filthy asshole.

“Sister! Look at Zoe. Look at her!” demanded Sister Alice.

Her cunt was getting wetter and wetter. Fuck she wanted brutal sex with the unsuspecting child. A rape murder for the glory of Satan. The evil made her hips buck against the dull edge of the table. Even more, she desired to corrupt the pretty Asian-looking nun. Once she had been turned she would deliver the child into their evil liar. Oh, Satan be praised.

“I-I just don’t know?”

“She could have been raped and murdered! I heard that they like to sodomize them. Fuck them with large dogs and huge spiked dildos, before slitting their throats and wearing their sexual organs as grotesque trophies around their necks.”

“Oh God Almighty!”

“Help me do this awful thing. Please for Zoe’s sake. We will get the information for the Father and save the children.”



Sister Mary Ann opened the cell door and stepped inside.

She felt nervous but strangely excited by what was about to transpire. A secret she had never dared to share – except with her delicately carved phallic candles that she used to masturbate herself upon nightly. She had fantasized about the eroticism of forbidden Sapphic love on many occasions but had banished these wayward desires to the realm of the Devil’s temptations. She wanted to be good; but sometimes, her sexual desires seemed unbearable.

She had become a pious nun, to try and purify herself, to redeem herself in the eyes of the Lord Almighty. To Sister Mary Ann, God was the one, who knew all, who saw all. He would know that she was prepared to sacrifice herself, for the greater good. For God’s plan for her. Poor young Zoe, and others like her, should never have to suffer at the hands of these wicked and evil men and women, who actively sort fornication with sex demons as a means to gain their own selfish and perverted desires.

No, she was not like them. Not like these evil ones. These devil worshipers, who danced naked before their evil sexualized idols … Masturbating and pleasuring one another before the horned Baphomet… That twin-sexed evil creature with both female breasts and an erect penis of a man. Heavens above, she thought. Their so-called ‘sacred androgyny’ … So hard and throbbing, as its phallus stood upright from between the demon’s hairy goat-like legs (just like the pure white candles she plunged nightly into her needy cunt).

Now, she was to perform this perverted sexual ritual for the sole purpose of charming the wild woman into divulging what they needed to know. The whereabouts of the secret satanic cabal (to save the others, like Zoe, caught up in the web of lies). The deep shame she felt, the guilty feelings of subconscious lust towards others of the same sex, was hopefully never to be known to Father Ambrosia. Sister Alice had given her, her word on that. It was to be their secret. A dreaded secret and a covenant were undertaken between them.

It was time.

“Go to her,” encouraged Sister Alice.

Both of them were already naked. Both were highly aroused. Sister Alice had worn a blasphemous inverted cross and had painted sigils on her mons. Sister Alice had ‘shown’ her how to pleasure the wild woman. She’d shown her, how the ritual must be performed. Evil. Wicked. Sinful. Exciting. She bit her lip. Oh, maybe. It was really going to happen. All these years. Pent up.

The wild woman would believe that they were on her side. Yes, she must appear at all times a corrupted nun. That they too sort an arrangement with the Devil. That they’d escape together with the help of her Satanist friends. The plan sounded plausible, but could she pull it off? Her nerves were getting the better of her … Though her cunt was wet and open.

“Pleasure your priestess,” ordered Sister Alice.

The wild woman opened her legs wider and licked her lips. Urine dripped from her open labia. It was something that Sister Mary Ann had imagined over and over but never dared to consider. Until this very moment.


Sister Mary Ann awake suddenly. Her body was trembling and covered in cold sweat. Where was she? The familiar grey stone walls of the monastery infirmary told her to relax. She looked for the large wooden crucifix that hung on the wall. Father, forgive me, for I have sinned.

Her recall of a lucid dream; a visitation to what she could only describe has ‘Hell’; had left the nun shaken beyond anything she’d ever experienced before.

She remembered being in the company of Sister Alice and their prisoner. They had a plan to get the vital information for Father Ambrosia. Against her better judgement, they’d performed the perverted sexual ritual and she’d must have lost consciousness through the process. But what she’d seen in her delusional state had been more than lucidity; it had been a horrific nightmare of biblical proportions.

She shivered. Holy Mother of God. What blasphemous evil. What wickedness. Her vagina was wet and her fingers sank immediately into her wet slit. Oh fuck! It was so fucking evil. Sister Mary Ann stopped masturbating as soon as she realized that she was. How could she? How could she feel excited by this vision of pure evil? What was wrong with her? Was she sick or delusional or both?

She closed her eyes and recalled the vivid dreamscape.

The procession of innocents.

They were all dressed in translucent brilliant white. Twenty pairs of young bare feet. Their glowing gowns moved like a flag in the breeze as the unpleasantly hot wind blew against them. So pristine, clean, and pure. Pure innocence. She had counted twenty or so of them. The young children in the procession sang loudly with sweet immature voices. Oh, how Sister Mary loved hymns. Sister Mary Ann recognized the tune as that of the hymn. ‘Praise to the Lord’ was one of her favorites, but the verse sounded different. The words must have been tampered with. Altered explicitly. The soprano choric voices rang out as they made their way down the wide stone steps that were flanked by brimstone and fire.

“Praise to the Lord, the Almighty, the King of hell! O my soul, praise Him, for He is thy dark magic and spell! All ye who hear, now to His temple draw near; Worship Him in wicked adoration.”

The hot air blew against them as the young boys and girls walked slowly forward, descending towards the huge Romanesque templume. The sweat of their bodies seemed to turn their very garments transparent; soaked to the skin; bearing them virtually naked as they advanced towards what Sister Mary Ann could see, at its epicenter, a huge stone Celia (a throne-like structure upon which was seated a darkened figure). The Celia itself was surrounded by large semi-circle stone arches, each containing its own exotic shrine of evil sexual effigies and phallic stone altars.

“Praise to the Lord, who, when the darkness of sin is abounding, Who, when the godless will triumph, our evil confounding, Sheddeth His naked darkness, bring us the horrors of night, Sexual demons with His perversions surrounding.”

They were not alone.

The evil ones began to appear; seemingly to crawl from between every crack and every crevice, from between every gap in the stone steps. They were infinite in number. All vile and naked with long blackened cocks — a legend of hermaphroditic demons that gained purchase with every passing moment. They crawled and slithered; emerging in their hundreds, no, thousands from the wanton darkness. The devils now began to flank the procession of innocents. Horned transgendered beasts began to dance provocatively around them; surrounding them; mauling their hard pert breasts, masturbating their rigid cocks and gaping cunts.

Praise to the Lord, oh, let all that is in me adore Him! All that hath corrupt and perverse, come now with praises before Him; Let the Amen sound from His demons again, Black devil, Gladly for aye we adore Him.

Sister Mary Ann felt the hot wind blowing angrily against her shameful nakedness. Heat upon heat. Wetness upon wetness. The evil demons screamed and groaned louder and louder, as they pleasured themselves more and more vigorously. Their dance became frantic, manic, and sex-crazed!

She quivered all over as she stood at the base of the grand Celia. She looked upwards towards the looming phallic black Baphomet. Its evil goat-look head looked downwards, meeting her hesitant gaze. There was a flame burning between its temples. Its animal snout sniffed the intolerable steaminess with a grin of approval.

And there, standing next to her, sinful in their nakedness, was Sister Alice and the Raven. They both made no secret of their lustiness as they too frantically masturbated themselves; their fingers thrusting in and out of their juicy slits. They seemed to rejoice at the screams of the lust demons — they were three witches; watching over the maelstrom of sexual depravity as it unfolded.

“Praise to the Lord, masturbate before Him! Fornicate with His demons and rebel in depraved upon the altar of sin; Do evil and wickedness for His glory, Sacrifice our young flesh, sodomized us, and rape us before Him.”

The depraved dance of fornication raged on; as the young ones continued to sing their triumphant and perverted hymn. Matted damp hair fell limply across their grinning faces that appeared flushed with lust. Their sweat-soaked clothing had turned completely see-through under the carnal steaming heat of Hell. The fires raged around them! Screams punctuated the groaning mass of eager sex demons. The child-like voices drowning in the copious immoral chants for gratification. Sister Alice knelt before her. Her mouth sucked at Sister Mary Ann’s gaping cunt hole — her phallic tongue seemed to penetrate upwards into the roof of her cervix.

“Aaarghhhhhh!” she groaned without restraint.

“HAIL SATAN! CHRIST BE FUCKED!!” cried the Raven.

Sister Mary Ann ground harder against her evil lover’s face, enjoying the tunneling of her penile tongue.

“YES. FUCK. YES. HAIL SATAN,” cried Sister Mary Ann, as another orgasm ripped through her body.

The fogginess of perverted pleasure did nothing to hide the truth; as she found herself looking upon the procession of young vulnerable children with evil prejudice; as if their innocence was hers to be consumed.

The androgynous black-skinned devils descend upon the young children; they first encouraged them to remove the last vestige of their innocence, exposing themselves completely to the satanic Baphomet who was to preside over the orgy of naked children and demons. They were young ones, just like Zoe. The children, without provocation now gave themselves to the black-skinned devils.

“Come, join us,” said a young girl who was a facsimile of the rescued blond girl, Zoe.

And they did.

Sister Mary Ann, Sister Alice, and the Raven joined the transgendered demons with their huge black endowments. Sister Mary Ann watched in awe, as two demons leap upon a young boy, impaling both anus and mouth upon their long fuck-poles of veined black flesh. Sister Mary Ann wanted nothing more than to hear the boy scream in abject terror as they began to tear the young boy apart.


Father Ambrosio’s eyes looked wild as he slammed his fist on the table, sending dust, manuscripts, and papers flying. His earlier elation had ended in abrupt disappointment as the details provided by the wild woman had yielded a result, but the cabal had once again avoided their capture.

“What I am trying to say is…” He paused, collecting himself. “Whatever you did to get this evil woman to talk, worked. The intelligence was good, but not enough. Sister Jessica said that the location had been used by the cabal. They’d been there. Definitely. The evidence of their occupation was still very fresh. We came that close.”

Sister Mary Ann and Sister Alice exchanged nervous glances.

“Sister Mary Ann, use whatever means necessary and find out more,” the Father held her shoulder firmly. It was painfully firm. “You and Sister Alice did well. But you need to dig deeper. Do you understand me?”

“Yes, Father,” they both responded.

Finally, Father Ambrosio and Sister Jessica left the library.

“See, I told you,” said Sister Alice.

Sister Mary Ann looked tired and unconvinced.

“It felt disgusting. Unholy. I feel so filthy,” she protested but her voice crackled with a new-found lust.

“Of course, it felt unholy. It was. It was vile and debauched. Fowl. Evil. But what choice do we have? We must press forward. You hear the Father. ‘Whatever means necessary’. I have a plan to get the wild woman to see, without doubt, that we are on her side.”

“W-what is it?” asked Sister Mary Ann.

Her fear and excitement were almost palpable.

It was as if she was trying to disguise her own arousal at the thought of what would come next; her mind seemed divided between the motive (of divine duty) and her own selfish lusts (to explore her new-found perversions with these two evil women). Dare she imagine that taking it to the next level would involve the youngster? Yes, the child. Zoe. So young and pretty. Hmmmmm. She felt so deeply ashamed of her own pedophilic wickedness. But she quickly qualified it, by the mandate of her superior, Father Ambrosio’s order to do whatever she had to get this she-devil to keep talking. Oh, my dear God Almighty! Blessed Mother Mary! How could she contemplate the subjugation of that tiny innocent child? But it was for the greater good. What was one child against all the others that the Sisters could save?

“I think you know,” stated Sister Alice.

She remembered her preternatural dream of HELL; of the ‘procession of innocents’. There was a loud clap of thunder from outside. A night storm was brewing.

“The young girl?”

“Yes. The young girl. We must bring her to the Raven tonight.”


To be continued?


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