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 two. 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 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: 22.06.2018 / REVISITED: 2010.2023

Requiem Of Sins 2


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 the true nature in the worship of evil.


It was a time before mobile phones and the internet. The folks in the small village of Holy Oak got around on horses and carts and it would be a day’s travel to the nearest town. The entire village has been in turmoil since the death of their priest, Father Nathan. Our protagonist, Samantha, who recently married her preacher husband, Henry, arrived in Holy Oak to find themselves up against some sinister powers. The wickedness seemed to affect Samantha and Henry in very different ways. They were nights of black magic, occult, and witches. Samantha, under the guidance of a self-professed pagan witch (Angelique) and an ancient satanic text, entitled the Libra Diabolica Sexualis, seemed to relish her exploration of these erotically charged challenges; while poor pious Henry resisted both his estranged wife; and the forces of darkness against all odds. Soon, they both become inextricably embroiled in a web of escalating sexual perversity, that neither understood nor could control; for the fear of losing their eternal souls.


Angelique kissed her new lover. Their tongues dueled as their fingers explored each other’s sopping wet cunt slits. Sweat poured from their aching bodies and they groaned into each other’s open mouths. Samantha still tasted salty semen (as she’d literally blown Henry just before he left for his church meeting).

“Satan be praised! I can taste him on your lips,” exclaimed Angelique.

“And I managed to save some for our ritual.”

Samantha grinned and showed Angelique the small vile filled with the whitish creamy remains of Henry’s last orgasm. Angelique had been prepared for this ‘baptism’ ritual of semen, blood, and urine and mixed the last of the precious ingredients into the silver chalice. With corruptive chants and evil prayers, she shared the concoction with her lover.

Angelique began to pray.

“Before the almighty and ineffable Satan and in the presence of all Demons of Hell, who are the true and the original gods …”

Samantha repeated her words as she masturbated herself with the tip of the well-lubricated bone phallus.

“I, Samantha Druss do renounce all past allegiances. I renounce the false god of the church; I renounce his fucked son, Jesus Christ. I renounce the fucking Holy Spirit.”

Again Samantha repeated the word verbatim.

“I pledge my mind, body, and spirit to do the will of the great Goat Goddess; to serve her evil ways and offer sacrifice for my own selfish pleasures.”

Samantha shuddered and groaned lewdly as she began to climax on the smooth evil bone phallus.

Samantha had recalled to Angelique all that had happened over the past week. Her escalation of Henry’s journey into her perverted nightmare was reaching a critical point. She no longer called him Henry. Priest Boy was now his bedroom name. It was also her cue to him that perversion was the new normal; that he needed to accept his sub-role and do whatever it was that his succubus demon lover wanted of him without reservation.

To Samantha, Henry no longer existed. Priest boy was her fuck meat. A sexual toy to be used in her increasingly debauched sexual fantasies. The damnable book had shown her the way. Now that she had some mastery of the language of the witches (with Angelique’s help), she had a recipe for every perversity she craved. There would be no limits. Holy Oak had proved to be the best thing that had ever happened to her. She felt free. Free to be the demon, she never knew she was.

The two witches mutually masturbated as she recalled using several spells and incantations from the damnable book on Henry. His reaction was priceless. He had no idea of how evil she really was. Fuck his god. Fuck Jesus. Fuck Mary. Fuck heaven… Priest Boy would live and die in purgatory … or was he in Hell already (the hell that she was orchestrating)?

She had used several sexy outfits in his inducement. She even let him catch her urinating over herself (drinking greedily on her own salty brew). She laughed in his face, calling him a stupid faggot priest and demanding that he lick the acrid piss from her body. His humiliation was so divine. She’d made Priest Boy dress in his robes while he sodomized her. Yes, Priest Boy was a perverted sodomite. Why was he so reluctant? She didn’t give a fuck.

Priest Boy was now her personal toilet. She pissed frequently and even shat directly in his unwilling mouth. He was appalled by it all. He thought she was crazy. But he could not refuse her. Her black magick was getting stronger by the day. She no longer wanted vaginal sex. She only wanted his little cock in her shit-hole. They even ass-fucked in the chapel nave before almost every mass. They ass-fucked in the confession booth (during a confession). They ass-fucked over the altar. Priest Boy had committed all these blasphemous and sacrilegious acts and was helpless to resist her. She loved the dark power she had over him.

“Tell me about the nun uniform,” said Angelique.

“Oh, the nun thing,” smirked Samantha, “Well, you see, Priest Boy needed a new playmate. I was getting bored. So, I created the Virgin Nun.”

“Virgin Nun. Hmmmm … I like that. She’ll have to visit me too.”

“Oh darling, she will. Anyway. I really wanted Priest Boy to take the initiative. Priest Boy was far too demure. Too passive. He was boring me as he could only follow my instructions. I wanted Priest Boy to play the evil deviant getting his way with Virgin Nun. A role reversal of sorts.”

“Interesting,” said Angelique.

“Hmmmm … more fingers darling … Oh FUCK CHRIST that feels good!” insisted Samantha.

“What happened next?”

“It all started started out as a role-play. I was supposed to be the young virgin girl coming to the church for confession. A young girl distressed, seeking his priestly assistance with matters of the eternal soul. Priest Boy was supposed to be the deviant clergy who sort to take advantage of the girl’s innocence and naivety,” they both laughed, “Then I had a better idea. When I dressed as a vestal nun in a simple wimple and short revealing habit, Priest Boy got very excited. I mean he was really animated and horny. He was totally into it. I said something about corrupting the holy. Maybe it was an accumulation of all the spells and incantations that created this unexpected effect, but I swear, Henry (under the guise of Priest Boy) was really into this Virgin Nun thing in a big way. The role play had hardly started and he practically raped me. He fucked the Virgin Nun deliciously hard in all her holes; he fucked her harder than he ever fucked me. I must have cum two dozen times! We ended up ass-fucking her over his precious holy fucking altar. Finally, we both orgasm’ed together as he proclaimed his love of Satan. Oh, Angelique … It was so divine.”

“So, it’s done.”

Samantha further explained that the next morning, Henry got up without saying a word. She could tell by his expression that he must have had some regrets. He seemed remorseful for his abject behavior and was probably appalled by both his own actions and the new level of debauchery that she had taken him to.

“He was mopping around with a real attitude.”

“So what did you do about it?”

“What any nasty evil witch would do, I guess … I teased him … sucked him off … and collected his semen.”


Samantha diligently studied the damnable book. The Libra Diabolica Sexualis or the Requiem of Sins (as it was also called) was very specific about the incantation necessary to subvert Henry’s desires and to inject a new level of toxicity into his subconsciousness. To a degree, it required Samantha to perform a delicate rite, whilst suggesting to Henry what she wanted him to think, feel and do. She could do this.

Her nibble fingers penetrated herself, quickening her pulse, as she scanned the vile text, to make sure that she had committed the process to memory. The evil spell began to build to a fever pitch. Her orgasm was very close, but she deliberately withheld as she liked the sexual tension to grow to an uncontrollable crescendo – she would use these explicit sexual energies to focus on making poor gentle Henry (or at least his new alter-ego ‘Priest Boy’) to turn him into a sadistic pedophile.


“It tastes kind of bitter?” said Henry.

“Don’t be a baby and drink it all. It’ll help you to relax Henry,” replied Samantha.

Henry undressed and lay down on the couch as Samantha instructed.

“Do I really need to be naked? Why all the candles? What do all these strange symbols mean?” he asked.

“Stop whining. This is to help you unwind.”

Henry’s awkwardness was starting to dissipate. The secret concoction was starting to take effect on him. Samantha’s agenda was very simple, but the ritual was not. She smiled at him, kissed his mouth gently, and sat on the floor as she stroked his matted hair.

“Close your eyes.”

Henry closed his eyes. She lightly stroked his upper torso, arms, and neck.

“Imagine you are at the beach. It’s a sunny day. You can feel the soft sea breeze blowing across your face and against your bare chest. In the distance, you can hear the sound of the rolling waves as they come in against the soft golden sands. There are other sounds, more distant, like the wind and crying of the seagulls. It’s peaceful. It’s serene. You are happy being there. There is nothing for you to do except stand naked on the warm wet sand as the waves lap against your toes. You are a child of eleven years old. You have no responsibilities; no worries; and no concerns.”

Henry made a subconscious sigh.

“That’s it. Relax darling Henry. You are Priest Boy and you don’t have a worry in the world. Priest Boy is happy and contented. He loves being at the beach, naked with the other children. That’s right. Priest Boy is not alone. You smile at the other boys and girls. They are all young, just like you. And just like you, they are all naked on the sunny beach. None of you have a care or a trouble in the world. It’s all about the moment. It’s peaceful. It’s serene. As the children play in the sand, they see you. You see them. You all smile at one another.”

Samantha’s hand lightly stroked Henry’s cock and balls, gently touching him and bringing him to an erection. The concoction had done its work. The spell was cast. This was a critical part of the intoxication. He must accept her suggestions. They must be seen as his own subconscious desires. He must feel aroused and sensitized and; at the same time agitated and needy of sexual gratification.

“You notice the young boys and girls are enjoying themselves. The sun is warm against your skin. Against their skin. You can almost smell the sunshine. Their bare skin looks so soft, so perfect, so hairless. You wonder what it would be like to touch them. It’s hard to tell the boys from the girls until, however, you notice how all the young boys are all erect. Yes, Priest Boy, all their penises are all hard, just like yours. Priest Boy likes to look at them all, naked and hard. It makes Priest Boy very excited.”

Now Samantha, with one hand, was stroking his throbbing cock. Slowly she increased the pace, while her other hand stroked his perineum and brushed against the highly sensitive underside of his testicles and directly upon his puckered anus. Henry let out a low groan.

“Mmmmmmmm …”

“Yes, Priest Boy definitely finds the pretty young boys and girls to his liking. Mmmmmm. Look, Priest Boy… they are all touching themselves; the boys are touching their own hard little penises; and the girls are fingering their wet little pussies. It makes you want to join them. To play with them. They are all grinning with the pleasure they feel. You are grinning too. They are calling to Priest Boy to come and join in their private naughtiness.”

Henry’s cock began to weep with beads of clear pre-cum. His cock shaft quivered at his proximity to ejaculation. Samantha slowed the pace, then quickened it, then slowed it again and again, bringing him ever closer to orgasmic delight, but deigning it at the last moment.

“Aaargggghhhhhhh …” he groaned in frustration.

“The young little boys have paired off. The young little girls have paired off. They are all mutually masturbating each other. It’s so beautiful to watch. Their hands are so busy between their legs… stroking each other’s cocks in unison. One of the prettiest of the boys presses you down between his open legs. His cock looks so delicious. It’s hard and wet and you want to take it into your mouth and suck its crown. Yes, that’s what he wants too. You briefly look down to see another naughty boy masturbating you too.”

Samantha increased the tightness of her hold on his cock. She knew it was taking him over the edge.

“The sounds of dirty boy sex are all around you. He cums in your mouth. Spirting his boy juice over your tongue. You can taste his hot salty semen as you, in turn, you cum into the warm welcoming mouth of another.”

“Aaarghhhhhhhhh …”

Henry’s eyes are tightly shut. His body jerked. Unable to control himself he ejaculates over his own chest and neck.

“Sleep now. Sleep and relax. You love this dream. You cannot wait to have sex with young boys and girls again.”


Father Henry and Samantha meet with the parents of the Sunday School class. They had laid on tea and sweet biscuits. There was a polite chatter in the refectory. Samantha expected some resistance but was surprised at how willing the parents were for their children to join the special ‘Holy Oak Church Bible Camp’ for an extended weekend of three days and two nights. Henry had worked out a complete program (that Samantha had no intention of following) for the children to immerse them in the richness of the scriptures. She grinned and entertained his stupid Christian babble while imagining all the nasty sexual things that they could get up to in such a circumstance.

Separately, Samantha had tested the pedophilic suggestions that she’d placed in the subconscious of her husband’s alter-ego, Priest Boy. She knew that given the right triggers, he would be helpless to resist the urges. She hoped to see this in actuality at the bible camp, but Henry put a spanner in the works, saying that he’d changed his mind about the bible camp weekend.

Samantha insisted that they could not let the children down, as she’d promised them some recreational time together. When Henry still refused to join the adventure, Samantha said that she would take them on her own. Of course, she added, that she doubted her ability to do his ‘immersion program’ justice – but she would do her best. She qualified it, saying that at worst, it would be just a fun experience.

Her way with words seemed to work and Henry bought it.


So they left Holy Oak behind for a while and headed off towards the shores of a small lake called, Lake Erie, which was some nine miles out of the village. Close enough to reach, but far enough to be out of reach. Samantha picked the location for its remoteness. It was not the most popular choice for some reason (some said that evil spirits lurked there, but that was just folk superstition – Holy Oak folks could be very superstitious as their very livelihoods depended on the land and the seasons).

Samantha hoped that she the children and would not be interrupted. Her ‘immersion program’ had a very different agenda from Henry’s. The scriptures would be demonic. The rituals would be satanic. And the sex would be prolific. Her cunt was dribbling, even as they rode on the horse and cart on the way, Samantha was already sowing the seeds of her evil desires.

“Is it much further Mr. McIntyre?” said young blond-haired Louise.

The driver turned to see who was speaking to him as he guided the horse-drawn cart down the gentle embankment.

“Not far Miss. Be there in less than a quarter of an hour, I reckon.”

He was right. They arrived at the lakeside campsite within ten minutes and Mr. McIntyre helped the children unload their things from the back of the heavy wooden wagon. They had brought ample food and drink; they had a number of small tents; and enough Bibles so that there was one for everyone (not that Samantha intended to waste a second on any bible nonsense).

The weather seemed perfect by the lake as it was a warm and dry evening. The sun would be setting shortly, so Mr. McIntyre turned the cart around as he wanted to make it back to Holy Oak before it was dark (he didn’t really like this place, as she suspected there were unclean spirits in the waters). Soon Mr. McIntyre and his wagon were just a distant memory, leaving Samantha and the eight children on their own.

“Isn’t this wonderful?” asked Samantha.

It certainly was. She organized the children to gather some firewood as they set up their cozy little campsite. The fire was arranged in the center of a clearing with the five small tented pitched around it in a pentagram. She arranged her tent at the pentagram tip facing North (as the damnable book had instructed).

All would be to her grand design. As the young children went to the lake to wash up, Samantha gathered all their clothing and put them all away. As they all returned from the lakeside, all fresh and clean, they found their teacher waiting for them – she was also naked. Most had never seen an adult without clothes and were naturally curious, especially Jasmine.

“Now, for the time we are here, I thought it would be nice for us all to be as Adam and Eve were in the Garden of Eden. Father Henry, would love it that we all get an appreciation of Genesis and the Old Testament.”

“Yes Ms. Druss,” said Jasmine.

Samantha eyed the lean young bodies that now surrounded her in the orange glow of the firelight. Samantha tried her best to ignore her baser instincts and despite her own arousal, she continued to be the perfect camp mum. The warmth of the evening quickly dried them all, and the children sat around a bowl of hearty soup that Samantha had prepared. It tasted delicious and sweet. The sweetness in part there to disguise other ingredients that were to evoke a sexual awakening among the hungry diners.

“It’s delicious Ms. Druss,” said William, taking a second helping.



Samantha had left for the bible study camp and Henry was, for the first time in a long time, alone. He felt horny and frustrated. The morning sermon did not go well. He was all over the place. Not his usual confident self. What was wrong with him? Maybe he was in danger of losing his faith. His sinfulness was not forgotten. He reflected on all that had happened since their arrival at Holy Oak.

Their honeymoon had not been what he’d expected, but strangely, the events of the past few months had done wonders for the ‘couples life’ (he re-framed from using the word ‘sex’) as he firmly believed that the Christian life was about family and community first. He thought that Samantha was in tune with him, but now he could see that he had come into this with different expectations.

He tried to busy himself for the day. It was only an extended weekend (three days and two nights) and Samantha would be back with the kids. A bit wiser on the wisdom of the great book, he thought. He wished he had joined them, as he had worked out a full three-day program to excite their young furtive minds with Jesus. Moses, Joseph, and Mary (and the baby Jesus) and the stories of his twelve wise disciples. He would save that for the next bible camp.

It was then he noticed some notes or papers that lay under their bed. What a strange place to leave anything important? He reached under and pulled out the loose papers. Some of them looked old and valuable. Again, he wondered why Samantha would not have put them in the refectory office for safekeeping.

Idly he opened the older papers to find the pages covered in an unreadable script of strange symbols and alphabets that he did not understand. Strange. Then he looked at the other pages. They were in Samantha’s handwriting; as if she had been transcribing or note-taking on some weird recipes and concoctions. Cooking instructions maybe? He felt a little stupid. How could he be so distrusting of her? He immediately felt a pang of guilt for his immediate assertions.

It was then that he heard a light knocking on the door. He wasn’t expecting any company. He made his way to the threshold and opened the door. There was Angelique Volkova. He knew of her but had never spoken to her (as she wasn’t a regular at the chapel). He’d seen her in the village and he knew that Samantha sometimes visited her quaint shop or gallery or whatever it was.

“Ms. Volkova, if you’re looking for Samantha, she’s not here. She’s taken her Sunday School class down to the Lake Erie,” he explained.

“Actually, I wanted to see you, Father.”

“Oh? Come in, come in. Sorry, it’s very rude of me. Some tea?”

“No Father, but can we talk somewhere private? And please call me Angel if you don’t mind …”

“Angel … yes, sure.”

Henry felt unexpectedly aroused by this woman who was not his wife. He knew these sexual feelings were sinful and out of character for him, but still, they seemed to bubble up from somewhere deep inside his psyche, like a subterranean volcano. His cock stirred uneasily. These feelings he recognized as strong and inappropriate. He needed to keep his distance. They sat down in the lounge of the refectory. It was then that Henry realized that he was still holding Samantha’s papers.

“I see you have been studying your wife’s papers.”

“Not really. Just tidying up a bit. You know, keeping busy.”

“Trying to think of other things … distractions from missing your lover?”

“Yes … But, how can I help?”

His eyes kept being drawn to Angelique’s cleavage and the heavy medallion that hung between her ample breasts. It looked distinctly demonic. Evil. A satanic charm. The Baphomet, he recalled. Was she some kind of devil worshiper? His cock stiffened in an instant. Samantha’s games of corrupting Virgin Nuns, of Priest Boy, and how he loved to sodomize young innocent boys. Yes, how he liked effeminate young boys — their smooth bubble butts and hairless erections. To suck their pissing little cocks and sodomize them in the chapel. The thread of thoughts was unstoppable.

“The spells are real, Father. She is a witch. She is a perverted, devil-worshiping witch. Your thoughts about nuns and young naked boys are thoughts that she has poisoned you with… and let me tell you, her cunt is delicious.”

Henry blinked. Did he hear her read his thoughts?


“I said, you like my pendant?”

Henry’s mind was doing somersaults and his libido was going crazy. Had she said cunt? Who was she referring to? Samantha? The pendant? A witch? Devil worship? Angel … an angel with firm delicious tits that need to be sucked. The pendant?

“Sorry, did you say pendant?”

“Are you feeling alright, Father?”

He felt her hands groping his rigid cock, masturbating him through the thin material of his gown. His head was swimming in lewdness. Fornication. Devil worship. Witchcraft. Occult. Baphomet. “Her cunt is delicious.” His balls felt a new tightness that could only be relieved by flesh against flesh. He saw his Samantha with her legs spread and Angel’s head buried between her thighs. Upon Samantha’s crown, there were two small sharp horns. Demon horns. Samantha’s face was contorted in perverted pleasure and she groaned loudly, screaming blasphemies that she had never spoken before (not in his presence) as she came wildly upon the woman’s upturned face. She was no Angel, neither was his wife. Devil’s all. There was an orgy of young flesh all around him. Children fucking children. Their young voices cried foul language, cursing God and praising demons while they fornicated!

“I think … I need to lie down.”

Everything went black.


Henry awoke in the silence of the refectory. He was lying across the lounge chair. He looked around. Alone again. No sign of Angel. Maybe he’d had a bizarre dream? That was it, he concluded. He must have dreamed the whole episode, that’s why it felt so weird and abstract. How foolish? He thought. Where did all those lewd thoughts come from? His cock was still very rigid. He was very horny. He saw the pages on the floor. Samantha’s notes.

His dream echoed … “She is a witch. She’s a perverted, devil-worshiping witch.”

He picked up the papers that lay scattered around on the floor. This time he looked for a clue to what the dream and the strange visitation (real or not) from the Angel meant. Most of it made little sense.

There was a recipe that involved some very unpleasant ingredients … but it seemed more like a spell and a potion rather than something you’d prepare for an evening meal. The desired effect was to arouse a preternatural sexual being, a succubus or incubus… to call a sexual demon from the courts of hell. Unbridled lust. Perversion. Rape. A human sacrifice. He quivered all over as if parts of a clandestine puzzle were aligning in his defogged mind… He felt Priest Boy awakening. It was like a snake shedding its ophidian sheath uncoiling and becoming aware.

Priest Boy ripped his priestly gown from his overheated body and stood hot and excited before the full-length dressing mirror. He looked upon his own nakedness. Directly staring at his engorged cock, the skin of which had peeled back fully to reveal the angry purple crown of wetness. He was usually ashamed of himself as it incited his sinning nature, but somehow there was a distinctive difference in the way that he felt. No shame.

He tightly gripped his own penis, imagining what it would feel like to touch a naked young boy. Fuck, it felt so evil and yet so good. The wayward Priest Boy began to stroke himself, faster and faster, as he watched his sinful flesh perform in the mirror. The pagan drums beat loudly as he rubbed his own sinful flesh up and down, up and down, up and down. His narrow hips bucked back and forth, imagining he was inside the boy’s tender young rectum. A spiritual sodomite. A queer priest fucking a nice effeminate choir boy. O’Satan be praised. O’Satan! Oh the blasphemous bliss, he thought. Priest Boy shivered, groaned, and then shot his milky semen all over the front of the mirror.


The children gathered around Samantha in the glow of the firelight.

“So, how many of you have been masturbating regularly.”

They all put their hands up.

“And how many have been kissing your little brothers and sisters, like I kissed Jasmine the other day?”

They all put their hands up but one. It was Peter.

“I don’t have any brothers or sisters?”

“So who would you like to kiss today?”

“I want to kiss Louise,” answered Peter.

Samantha noticed how Peter’s penis had become erect during this conversation.

“Well, we know Louise wanted to kiss you. So why don’t you kiss her now.”

“Can I?”

“Yes, as long as we can all watch you both. I want to see you kiss with tongues.”

They kissed passionately and Samantha saw that this was heating everyone up. Much was her nasty little plan.

“I want to share with you all a special story,” said Samantha.

They all seemed to accept their own nudity and hers as if it were completely natural. She noticed how the young boys were now fully erect. She pretended not to notice their delicious genitals though inside she felt the growling need to abuse them. She’d been imagining whipping them (until bloody) with thorn bushes and making them squirm with pencil-thin slices of raw ginger (figging) pressed inside their tortured little anuses.

“This story is set in a primal place, a jungle, that I sometimes like to call the ‘Garden’ … and in the Garden, there is a beautiful serpent goddess that was called Lilith.”

“Was she like an angel?” asked Katherine.

“Well, in the Garden there was no concept of angels, but in a way, Lilith was an angel as she had a precious gift to give to the young boys and girls that lived in the Garden. Like you, they never wore clothes and to them nakedness was natural. It was not shameful or sinful. So, Lilith, showed them that their nakedness had a reason. She drew their attention to the fact that the boys were very different from the girls. That the boys had penises and testicles, and the girls had clitorises and vaginas. She showed them how to touch themselves and they all became highly aroused.”

Samantha began to touch herself in from of the children.

“Don’t you love masturbating in front of others? Show me how much you enjoy masturbating … show me how you like being watched … look at Jasmine … she looks so hot!”

All the children had been staring intensely at what Samantha was doing to herself, now they looked at their classmate, Jasmine as she eagerly fingered herself. They all started to touch themselves, gingerly at first. Jasmine grinned at Samantha as she put on a little show, grinding and groaning and never taking her eyes off of Samantha’s shaven, smooth cunt lips.

“As I was saying, once the children discovered their own nakedness, and the joys of sinful sexual pleasure, the boys began to worship their cocks. They masturbated constantly. They worshiped an erect cock as a god. They called their cock god by many names: Set, Hermes, Priapus, Asher, Satyr, Siva, Min, Pazuzu (to name a few) … They danced around a huge effigy of an erect cock, danced to pagan drums, and masturbated as they urinated over themselves and each other. Yes, they drank their own pee. They began to suck each other’s cocks and lick each other’s testicles and taste each other’s dirty little anuses. They ejaculated into a challis to share with each other before their great cock god. They devised many complex rituals that involved sodomy, rape, and other sinful acts to show how much they loved the cock god.”

Samantha pointed to Bobby and then to William.

“Come, show us how much you love to suck cock, William. Come now, before us all, without shame, and suck Bobby’s nice fat cock.”

The two boys were eager to please Succubus Samantha. They scrambled forward, both fully erect and very excited. The concoction she’d served them at dinner was laced with potent ingredients that lowered any resistance to sexual activities, be they heterosexual, homosexual, or bisexual. Soon William was groveling over his classmate’s cock. His hands groped Bobby’s sweaty little balls and anus. Bobby’s face shows his delight as he thrust faster and harder into William’s wet mouth.

“That’s so hot, don’t you think?” asked Samantha.

Everyone nodded and masturbated as they watched William and Bobby’s kiddy sex show.

“Like the boys, the girls began to worship their vaginas. They put all manner of things inside of themselves to bring them to orgasm. They worshiped an idol that looked like open vagina and erect clitoris as a god. They called their cunt god by many names: Aphrodite, Oshun, Yoni, Isis, Canaan, Clíodhna, Hathor, Rati, Hymen … they, like the boys, indulged in elaborate rituals to celebrate their cunt god, with orgies of intoxicated naked girls licking and sucking upon each other. They performed sexual acts inserting wooden and bone phalluses into themselves, some brought animals, like dogs and goats and even horses for vaginal penetration to show how much they loved their cunt god.”

This time Succubus Samantha pointed to young Jasmine.

“Come and show the others how much you want to please my cunt … to worship my delicious cunt with your mouth and tongue.”

Jasmine needed no further invitation. She quickly scrambled down in front of her teacher and rested her small fingers on either side of Succubus Samantha’s naked thighs. Succubus Samantha’s juices were dripping and Jasmine seemed not to want to waste a single drop as she lapped her inside thighs and worked upwards between into her heated cunt lips.

“That’s it. Fuck yer. You don’t know how long I’ve waited for this! Suck my cunt you little bitch … Aaarggghhhhhhh!” Succubus Samantha groaned unabated as the others all looked on.

Jasmine groaned into her soaking wet cunt.

“So, you see, it was the serpent, Lilith, that inspired the gods to conspire and come together. That the cock god and cunt god should merge together… to form the great Goat of Mendes … the Goat Goddess … the Baphomet. The twin sex goddess of the witches was the transposition of the most perverted elements of both. They conjoined in the formation of the hermaphroditic configuration with both male and female sexual organs into one mysterious and divine deity!”

Succubus Samantha showed them the image of the Baphomet from within the Requiem of Sins …

“Behold our god. Bow down before the Goat!”

The children did as Samantha asked. Succubus Samantha reeled in her own perverted lust. The power of the great Goat Goddess seemed to pass through her – like a surge of electric current.



Henry looked at his semen translucent running down the mirror’s surface. Priest Boy receded in his consciousness. He was Henry again, the meek young priest with an overbearing sense of social and religious responsibility. His penis still throbbed from the power of Priest Boy’s evil orgasm. He knew the power of Priest Boy’s wickedness. He felt deeply ashamed of his lack of faith and his sinful digressions. Was there no hope? He hated himself. He hated Samantha. He hated Angel. What was wrong with him… what had they all done to him to bring him to this point? He sobbed quietly.

“Father Henry,” said a voice from outside the door.

Henry was taken by surprise. Was it that bizarre woman from the rare book shop who came back to haunt him with his own lecherous thoughts? He quickly donned his crumpled gown, wiped the mirror, and checked the door.

“Who is it?” Henry asked coyly.

“It’s Sister Alice. I was sent from the monastery by the Abbott. Did you not receive the communique?”


When Samantha returned (exhausted but very pleased with herself) from the corrupted bible camp. She found that they had a visitor at the Holy Oak Church. Henry introduced her to the attentive young Sister Alice. The girl seemed bubbly and full of youthful energy. Henry explained that the nun had been sent out to Holy Oak from the monastery to assist him in church matters.

Samantha immediately eyed the situation with due caution. This young Sister Alice could easily upset her plans or discover something she wanted to keep clandestine. Samantha decided that the best play was to act as the perfect host. She welcomed her to their humble home and helped Sister Alice get comfortable in the church guest quarters that she made up for her (at short notice).

“We’re so grateful for the kind help,” she swooned, ”Poor Henry has had so much to do. He has been stressed with all the parish worries on his shoulders.”

“The Abbott was concerned about the parish work too and with the unfortunate passing of Father Nathan, he wanted to make the transition for Father Henry and yourself a smooth one,” said the concerned nun.

“Thank you, Sister Alice. We must thank the Abbott too. Now, please make yourself at home here. Tomorrow will be a big day, so rest up and we’ll get started in the morning with a big hearty breakfast.”

“Well, good night Father Henry. Good night Samantha. God bless you all.”

“God bless you too,” replied Samantha.

It did not get passed Samantha that the young nun was also very attractive. Her wimple and gown did little to disguise the girl’s slender and sexy body. Her radiant little face, big brown eyes, and cute button nose appealed to Samantha’s expanding tastes (for her own sex). Seducing this pretty young waif would be such an interesting distraction.


Finally, they were alone together.

Samantha undressed and brushed her hair lazily as she stood naked before the dressing mirror. Her nipples were already erect and her cunt moist in anticipation of a good perverted piss fuck from Priest Boy. She could feel Henry’s eyes on her. She pretended not to notice him staring at her.

“We need to talk,” he said with a low sternest that was out of character.

This was Henry talking not Priest Boy.

Samantha turned around. Henry pulled the papers out with Samantha’s handwriting to confront her. He looked very angry. Hypocritically they were the same papers that had inspired Priest Boy’s earlier wickedness.

“I found these Samantha.”

“What are they?” she asked so sweetly and so innocently.

“What are they? Are you kidding me?”

“I don’t know what the fuss is all about Henry?”

“What’s this all about? Succubus. Incubus. Sexual demons. Human sacrifices before demonic phallic gods. Rape. Murder. Incest. This isn’t just role play … this is totally sacrilegious … I think you’re taking this whole devil-worship thing too far! What if anyone else finds out … they would not understand you or our situation! And what’s this all got to do with Father Nathan’s death … some malicious fantasy involving that bookseller?”

She looked at him and grinned sarcastically. He looked like he was about to bust his jugular.

“I’m serious Samantha!” insisted Henry.

Samantha snatched the pages from Henry’s shaking hand. He was perspiring unnaturally and obviously deeply emotional about the whole Devil worship thing … Stupid, ignorant man, she thought.

“That’s no way to talk to me. Priest Boy knows his place.”

“Priest Boy! Priest Boy! There you go again! This has to stop now!”

Samantha slapped his face hard. The sound of her hand connecting with his cheek made a hollow sharp noise and silenced his hesitant scrutiny.

“You fucking weak man … You lie to me. You lie to yourself. You love being my Priest Boy. You confessed to me before Satan, that you want non-consensual sex with young boys and girls. Rape. Murder. Incest. You fucking fool … I saw the evil thoughts in your eye when you looked upon that pretty young nun. Remember what you did to me while I was pretending to be the Virgin Nun…”

Samantha began to touch herself. She rubbed her oily cunt as the touched the front of Priest Boy’s pants.

“Imagine what you could do with her … this fucking little Sister Alice … while I ask her for help and she discovers me to be a satanic worshiper … how you could take her by surprise … rape her for Satan’s glory …”

Despite his anger, his genitals reacted to her direct stimulation. She gripped his manhood tightly in her fingertips, squeezing his sensitive cock crown.

“Maybe Priest Boy would want to use her for a human sacrifice … to rape her over his fucking holy altar … to screw her hard in all her pretty little holes? You want to fuck her hard in ass … piss up her cunt … defecate in her mouth … cum in her shitter! My Priest Boy is such a fucking nasty sodomite!”

“I …” Priest Boy could only mumble.

“I … What?”

She released her grip on his cock and raised her hand (as if to slap him again) and Priest Boy cowed.

“I know you better than yourself Priest Boy … you’re always so weak … you’re always so pathetic … you’re always so fucking horny …”

She was right. Priest Boy was back. Henry was lost … submerged in the onslaught of perverted thoughts. Priest Boy was very horny. His cock continued to throb in his pants. He wanted it to be released. He wanted to cum over her face. He definitely had a strange weakness for this new plaything.

“Now Priest Boy, I need MY pleasure.”

Samantha bent over suggestively. She wanted him inside of her. She wanted him to be lost in HER desires. To be reduced to nothing but a fuck stick. Then she saw. In the corner of her eye, there was someone watching. She pretended not to notice as she continued to act lewdly before her stupid little Priest Boy (who was now naked and panting behind her … growling to get inside her tight little asshole) as Samantha finger fucked herself and rubbed her erect clit.

Priest Boy was panting and Samantha groaned in her double enjoyment — being fucked and being watched, was extra pleasurable. So Sister Alice was a voyeur? This was getting better by the minute. They were going to have such fun with this.


The next morning (before the rising sun), Samantha had prepared a hearty breakfast and the three of them sat done at the table to eat together. Earlier, she added a few additional ingredients (following the recipe from the damnable book and some help from Angelique) that would push Sister Alice along the trajectory toward her dark vulnerabilities.

Samantha chanted in a sing-song tone as she added the mystical ground powers among the familiar smells of coffee, fried eggs, bacon, and toasted bread.

“Pleasure thy self and knowingly sin, as this is the invitation for the dark infestation to begin.”

It all felt so normal and cordial. Samantha asked Sister Alice, how she slept. Sister Alice said that she had been very comfortable. She thanked Samantha for her kind hospitality and complimented her on the tasty breakfast. Henry kept his eyes down most of the time and said very little.

Henry’s reaction to the subtle stimulus was to excuse himself (he’d already consumed most of his breakfast and Samantha was confident that Priest Boy would be back to play that evening).

“I am so glad you are here Sister Alice. It’s been very difficult, with the new parish… and my new marriage.” She confided.

Sister Alice smiled understandingly. She had a beautiful smile, Samantha thought, as she imagined sitting on top of the waif’s face, grinding her urine-flavored cunt across it. Samantha gently touched the nun’s fingers. Outwardly, it appeared no more than an affectionate gesture of Sisterly appreciation. Samantha’s small lingering touches were not rejected by Sister Alice, whose response was satisfyingly accepting. She seemed a little drowsy and Samantha jumped immediately at the opportunity to take advantage of her suggestible mood.

“I know you must think poorly of me,” Confessed Samantha.

“How is that?” Sister Alice looked concerned.

“I mean last night … I … I know you saw me … I only want what is best for Henry … he’s a hard-working man and needs some sexual relief from all the struggles …”

Sister Alice now looked a little embarrassed that Samantha knew that she’d seen them naked together and watched as her husband fucked her in the ass as she blatantly masturbated in the young nun’s full view.

“I didn’t mean to see. It was purely an accident.”

“Oh, Sister. Sorry. Maybe you misunderstood me … I actually was glad you saw what you saw … no matter how degrading it was for me … I really wanted you to watch. Please, don’t think poorly of me. I cannot explain it, but it spurred me on sexually … you know, to help poor Henry to reveal himself. He can be so demanding. So sexual. I want to be a good wife. I have nobody to share this with. I hope you can keep this all to yourself … if Henry knew, he’d be so disappointed in me at my slightly exhibitionist needs.”

Sister Alice swallowed hard. She continued to appear accepting. The potion was working and her mind was already polluted with Samantha’s pretense.

“You mean you don’t mind? You wanted me to watch?”

“Oh yes. Please watch. It really helps me.”


Samantha began to masturbate herself once her priestly husband and Sister Alice had left. She felt so horny as she reflected on the ritual that she had presided over with the children at the campsite. They had not expected a visitor, but of course, Samantha had had it all prearranged. It was a late-night visit. They were all sitting around the campfire. The orange, pink, and red flames illuminated their excited little faces and their naked bodies. She threw some magical powder from a vial into the flames and plumes of purplish smoke filled the air with dark spiritualism. She had just shown them the image of the twin-sex god of the witches … the cock and cunt goddess … the baphometic deity … but that of course was only the entrée.

They recognized the unexpected guest at their campsite. It was the woman from the bookshop, Angelique Volkova. She, like Samantha, was also completely naked (besides a heavy dark metal medallion that was huge across her ample cleavage. Her body swayed provocatively and she walked into the campsite. The children were already too aroused to be shy before the adult’s eyes, who stared at them with complete lust and carnality. Angelique was rubbing her inflamed cunt lips. Samantha and Angelique momentarily kissed each other. They broke their passionate tongue kiss and both began chanting together; as Samantha herded the children forward into a semicircle around Angelique.

“Pleasure thy self and knowingly sin, as this is the invitation for the dark infestation to begin.”

“Pray Bobby. Pray Peter. Pray William. Pray Louise. Pray Raylene. Pray Linda … and Pray Jasmine … All pray to the pray with your Satanic Priestess …”

‘Drink the divine nectar as a sign, accept your sex demons, a bargain to bind.”

Samantha knelt with the children all around them. Each masturbates themselves feverishly. Samantha remembered it was like the dream in the Garden of Sin; like the images from the Libra Diabolica Sexualis (the Requiem of Sins); at the center of all the perversion was a figure illuminated by the harshness of the firelight. It was the Satanic Priestess, who had donned a full head mask that gave her the appearance of a goat, with a long snout and curled horns.

The Satanic Priestess held her cunt lips open. A fountain of dark yellow urine erupted from her hole. It soaked both Samantha and the children in its salty piss spray. Pressing against her finger against her urethra the Satanic Priestess guided the tangy rain into their open mouths.

“‘The disobedience of passion, spawn the wicked seed of sin, Blasphemous nights spark orgasmic delights, that GROW FROM WITHIN …”

The wet children collectedly groaned in perverted enjoyment at this. Jasmine kissed Samantha’s lips and they exchanged a mouthful of urine. Lightening struck a tree with a loud crash and the night sky was momentarily bright. The dark magick seemed to concentrate on the Satanic Priestess, whose body began to convulse unnaturally. The very earth beneath them quivered like an earthquake. Her red and disdained vagina, still drinking wet in piss, bulged outwards from within.

“All praise to the Goat Goddess, celebrate with her unholy flock. Hail the Goat Goddess. Hail to her succulent COCK!”

The serpent rose as the Satanic Priestess screamed. Her cunt lips opened wider like an anal sphincter … they parted and spread, as from within the Satanic Priestess, emerged her baphometic phallus. Its round wet crown pushed through first, followed by another twelve inches of veined rod. Lastly, two egg-sized sacks … her testicles hung forth completing her transformation.



That evening, Sister Alice returned with Father Henry. Samantha had prepared a light evening meal for the three of them. During the day, Sister Alice had helped Father Henry with his services and hoped that she’d lightened the load. Her mind could not help but return to what she had observed the previous evening. She knew it was wrong and sinful (but even more enjoyable because of its immorality). She should have retreated to the guest room, but something drew her forward, so that she looked upon Father Henry and his pretty wife, as they performed anal sex.

She couldn’t quite hear everything that they were saying, but Samantha kept calling Father Henry ‘Priest Boy’. Maybe it was some kind of bedroom name. She had been initially shocked at their sexual activities. Their sex seemed bestial. She watched Samantha masturbating furiously with many fingers pressed into her vagina and rubbing upon her clitoris, whilst Father Henry used her backdoor (his small cock penetrating her as he grunted like a wild beast. Wasn’t it a sin to do such an act? Sodomy. Anal sex. But then, who was she to talk to? Hadn’t she willingly participated in a way in this shameful act – watching excitedly as they performed (as if, for her)?

Even before their evening meal was complete, Father Henry was being openly amorous and Samantha seemed to egg him on in front of Sister Alice (even before they’d reached the bedroom). He wasn’t the priest she’d thought him to be. But then, she reflected on why the Abbott had sent her to the small village. Was his motive to purely offer assistance to the overloaded priest, or was it because he saw her faith failing… that her beliefs seemed disassociated? What was she thinking?

Her mind seemed to be excited about what she might observe. Tonight she’d touch herself, she thought, while she watched them together in the bedroom. She secretly wanted Samantha to know that she desired an unobstructed front-row seat at their devil-worshiping sex show… Her own sinful vagina was already getting wet in anticipation.


The door was flung wide in open invitation but still the sheepish Sister Alice crept forward from the darkened hall as she had done the night before. Despite the mystical hazy light, she could see even better than before. As she got closer, she could see that the room was now fully lit with copious amounts of candles. It felt ritualistic.

There on the stripped bedding lay Father Henry. He was lying on his back and masturbating himself. Sister Alice salivated as she watched him stroke his engorged cock in a slow, slow rhythm.

Then she saw Samantha. She knew it was Samantha, though her upper face was hidden behind a curious-looking demon mask with little pointed horns. Sister Alice thought she looked like a sex demon. An alluring succubus. Her eyes seemed to pierce right through the slanted eye slots of the evil mask as she stared in the direction of the open doorway — like an actress staring out from the edge of the stage to the darkened audience beyond. It was as if she was making sure that the wayward nun was watching her every move and listening to her every word.

The succubus momentarily seemed to pray before what looked like a large book that was open on a page that had an image of a baphometic creature. Devil worship. She then climbed upon the bed altar and stood immediately above the masturbating man. Her succubi naked body had an oily shine as she stood (straddled over the priest’s head), in the flickering iridescent candlelight.

Her narrow hips rocked back and forth rhythmically in the same slow way as Father Henry stroked his erect cock. Her hands slid gracefully over her oiled flesh as the succubus traced the shape of her slender athletic body; her fingertips caressing her fist-sized breasts and rubbing her stiffened nipples; and then traveled downwards towards her clean-shaven vagina that looked pouting and slick.

The succubus began to slowly finger fuck herself. It was an unholy masturbation ritual. One finger, then two. Two became three and then four fingers, slickly penetrating her waxy cunt as she groaned unabated and stared unblinkingly and directly at the nervous young nun.

She briefly stopped her lewd act hand reached for something below on the bed and then re-positioned herself again. This time, she began to drip with girl juice as she masturbated herself with the smooth curved length of what looked like a dark wooden crucifix.

Sister Alice stared back, unbelieving, but wantonly as the succubus brought herself to orgasm. The whole scene before Sister Alice was totally blasphemous and she felt her sinning heart beating as if it would jump right out of her chest. The succubus now continued to fuck herself with the wooden cross in and out of her oozing cunt towards yet another orgasm … and another … and another.

“Pleasure thy self and knowingly sin, as this is the invitation for the dark infestation to begin.”

Sister Alice could hear every one of the evil demon’s sacrilegious words. As she cursed God and swore her undying love for Satan. Sister Alice could not tear her eyes away.

“Drink the divine nectar as a sign, accept your sex demons, a bargain to bind.”

The succubus pulled the wooden cross from her hot wet cunt hole and immediately began to urinate over the priest’s upturned face. It wasn’t a few golden droplets or a sprinkle of pee, but more like a gushing torrent of pungent yellow piss.

Sister Alice shuddered. She ripped her gown from her overheated body and began to masturbate herself furiously. She was so turned on by these abhorrent acts of willful sinfulness. The more wicked it became, the more she wanted to join her deviant succubus. Throwing caution to the wind, she stepped forward ever so slightly, so that the candlelight from the room fell momentarily over her as she stood watching and touched herself. She wanted her succubus to see her too … naked and masturbating as she took her voyeuristic enjoyment watching their perverted sex.

The room filled with strange sounds and an even stranger shadow-play of shamanic fornication. Evil spirits seemed to materialize and then de-materialize in the candlelight haze of malicious lusting as they. danced around the couple, masturbating, fornicating, raping indiscriminately… a ghoulish fetish orgy of preternatural forms. Looking at her succubus, the mask seemed fused, no longer Samantha but now completely demonic… Real or imagined, she didn’t actually care, for the nun’s thoughts and desires were focused on her self-pleasure and the evil ritual she was witnessing.

Her succubus climbed stealthily from the bed, leaving the piss-wet priest to continue to edge himself closer and closer to his own demonic orgasm. Her evil eyes piercingly starred at the tiny trembling waif of a nun, who fell to her kneels before her. Her succubus held out the oily cross and Sister Alice immediately knew what she wanted. Sister Alice pressed the juice-coated crucifix between her labia and her succubus nodded wordlessly. She then reached forward with a leather band choker (with a small inverted cross hanging from its front) and fastened it around the nun’s neck. Sister Alice trembled, but still managed to pleasure herself upon the blasphemous cross. Yes, it felt firm and long and penetrated her angry cunt.


Henry applied his practiced smile as the line of parishioners filed passed him at the large wooden church doors. The service was over and he felt the tiredness of their previous night’s activities.

“Peace be with you, Father Henry,” said Mrs. Montague.

“God bless Mrs. Montague,” answered Henry.

The truth was that the priest was not at peace. Far from it. He found it hard to sleep and even harder to take any solace in the light of the day (and under the watchful eye of his Lord Almighty). He felt tainted, deviant, perverse … and now it seemed that Samantha had involved the young and impressionable, Sister Alice. How she came to be there he wasn’t clear about. Only this gnawing, unrelenting lust that brought out the very worst in him.

“Lord Almighty please forgive me,” he said to himself.

But, he knew in his heart of hearts, it felt like an empty gesture. How could he repent? Why would he repent? There seemed to be no retribution. Nothing. Only radio silence from the heavens.

Returning to the refectory, he looked around and found the large book that his wife seemed to hold so dearly. He suspected that it held answers that he probably didn’t want to know. He threw it down on the bedding.

“Why the glum face?” asked Samantha as she entered the bedroom.

Henry looked up. She was dressed in a simple dark over-shirt and slippers. Her hair looked groomed and her face ever more radiant.

“Last night was kind of strange.”

“Are you saying that you didn’t enjoy it? When you fucked that delicious little nun of yours, your savage sex … you seemed to be getting exactly what you wanted?”

“I know I have done these bad things … but it feels as if they’re done by another … by someone else … I am not an innocent bystander? I know it sounds impossible, but this strange game … this theater of demons and devils … it sometimes feels more than just a game … like as if there really is some omnipresent evil here. Am I sounding paranoid?”

“But you like playing our game … You were so strong. So powerful. So sexually dominant … when you took the nun from behind and sodomized her on the altar. It was glorious!”

“Tell me about the old priest. Tell me about Father Nathan. Did that woman, Angelique Volkova, have anything to do with his death?”

“Father Nathan was simply researching into the subject of devil worshiping. I don’t fully understand it … but I intend to find out all I can.” She said.

Henry wasn’t quite sure how much she really did understand.

“You’ve changed since you’ve been involved in this.” Henry held Samantha tightly. “I have been thinking, we could ask the Abbott for a new assignment. We don’t have to stay here. We could leave Holy Oak.”

“But your important work with the community is not done? They need you!” she kissed him and looked it his eyes, “I have not stayed from God’s light … it’s just that I find the occult interesting … that’s all. And I truly get a kick out of pretending to be a satanist … don’t you?”

Samantha’s kiss told him that there was only one right answer. Priest Boy was always lurking and Samantha exploited Henry’s sexual weaknesses.

“You should not toy with the faith.”

“That’s not the answer. You know you like it when I act like your whore. My evil lover – who loves it when I do nasty bad things … he likes it when I am his succubus.”

Samantha’s hand had been dancing over Henry’s groin. He couldn’t help but get hard. He did like the game. He was not repentant at all. Henry placed his hand over hers and made it obvious that he wanted her to rub his hardened cock.

“Undress my Priest Boy. I have a surprise for you.”

Henry stripped as Samantha unbuttoned the front of her over-shirt to reveal her evil talisman. The Goat of Mendez hung around her neck. Her body seemed to glow with allure and sensuality. He wanted her. He needed to serve his succubus-whore.

“It was a gift from Angelique. Do you like it?”

Henry was trembling again, but his cock remained rampant. In fact, it was drooling with pre-cum juices as Samantha continued to stroke his engorged cock.

“Kneel, Priest Boy. Kneel before me. Worship Satan. Give your devotion to me and blaspheme …”

“This is no game is it?” he asked, not wanting to hear the truth.

“No, Henry. It never was. I am really getting tired of your indecisiveness. Are you a man of god or a man that will serve me and my god?”


Henry found Sister Alice in silent prayer. Tranquility. There seemed to be a calmness about this young fragile nun that inspired Henry despite his confusion and self-loathing. Sister Alice looked up from her bible and smiled warmly and reassuringly at Henry.

“Sorry, Sister Alice … I didn’t mean to disturb your prayers.”

“No need to apologize Father. I am here to serve you in any way you see fit.”

Father Henry began to weep.

“There is an evil that has infected our parish.” Henry babbled. “I feel dirty and polluted from it. I can smell it in the air, like a pervasively bad odor that will not yield. My body is weary from it. My mind is confuggled. I don’t know what to do. Tell me what to think! Tell me what to do!”

The young nun embraced his hunched form and stroked his matted oily hair.

“I understand. I have felt this strange evil power too.”

“You have?” Henry felt unburdened by these words from a possible ally.

“But, I don’t think you should fear it, Master.”

“You don’t?”

“No. Not at all. Mistress Samantha has told me about your doubts and said that you were weak and that you’d come to me looking for solace. But, I know you’re strong Master. I have felt you deep inside me. I am no longer a Bride-of-Christ, but a Whore-for-Satan. When you sodomized me, I realized the truth. You, my Master, are a priest with the powers of darkness. You have set me free from all the burdens of my ridiculous conditioning.”

Henry looked up at her.

“There will be a ritual. There will be a human sacrifice … the young-lings have been prepared. This is the time for you to embrace your new faith, Master. Let go, as I have, of your misgivings once and for all … You are truly a servant of Satan, as I am, and we must consummate our faith … here and now. ”

She opened her habit and revealed her inverted crucifix choker. Upon her mons there appeared satanic tattoos inked upon her young tender flesh.

“Come, brother. I need your evil cock to fill my needy mouth, cunt, and ass.”

Father Henry looked upon the naked lusty nun. She was right. He was powerful. He was the Master, though he served a different god … he had a duty to perform. His cock was hard and throbbing. He needed to cum inside this whorish vessel – to use her for his venereal pleasure in the worship of darkness.



It was Sunday. Samantha welcomed the children. They were already half naked and touching themselves and each other when Samantha announced that they had a special guess today. They looked up and immediately recognized Father Henry.

“Today, Father Henry is going to give you a sermon about a demon called Belphegor.”

Their little faces carried a mixture of emotions. Torn between expectations. On one hand, they had their trust in the woman that had liberated them all and given them a new religion to worship. On the other hand, they knew not that Samantha had already perverted their parish priest; and of his keen interest in sexualizing their situation.

Samantha nodded and Father Henry undressed. His unsolicited erect meat communicated that they were not going to be re-reprimanded in any way. Quite the opposite. His excitement inspired them to get naked too as he began to talk.

“It was a time before early Christianity. Before the birth of Christ. And the people enjoyed a life of wild sexuality and unbridled lust. Unfettered by church and commandments. It was then, that they laid worship to a demon god known as Belphegor. They worshiped in his many forms, but most as an erect penis.”

“Like cock god!” Interrupted an excited Bobby.

“Yes. Exactly like cock god.” Answered Samantha.

“Well. Belphegor could also appear as an evil beast.”

“Like the Goat Goddess?” Asked Louise.

“Yes. But much more monstrous. Belphegor was able to take polarizing forms of appearance. As a terrible evil demon, with leathery flesh, huge horns, long sharp teeth and fingernails, and a gaping mouth; or as a beautiful naked hermaphrodite angel who seduced both men and women alike. They called Belphegor by other names too, like Baal, Ba’al Phegor, and Baal-peor. Kabbalistic writings described Belphegor as the god of sloth (laziness) but more interestingly, his worshipers, in highly sexual rituals, would shit upon their altar as a sacred offering to this perverted demon.”

“That sounds like fun!” said Linda.

The children had all been masturbating as they listened to Father Henry, who was also stroking his excited cock.

“I like this sermon,” said Jasmine, “You should give these sermons in church instead of the other boring crap about God Almighty and that fucking bitch, Mary.”

“Yes. Jasmine is right Henry. You should talk more about evil things in the church. Now, Peter, don’t you think that you should help Father Henry with his sermon? Why don’t you show him how good you are at sucking cock. Don’t forget to lick and suck his big balls. And William, why don’t you do like the worshipers of Belphegor did? Come now. Make a sacred offering to the demon, Belphegor, and in front of us all, shit into Father Henry’s mouth.”

There were screams of enthusiasm for their Sunday worship. Father Henry felt the small warm mouth close around the crown of his cock, as smaller fingers gripped his shaft tightly and rubbed it hard and fast. Fuck it felt so good. How could he have doubted Samantha? Satan be praised.

He was in the most exquisite of perverted ecstasies. His balls were beginning to boil as young William crouched over his face. He could smell it, long before he tasted it in his mouth. His semen pumped wildly. He grabbed the boy’s hair and pulled his face hard against his bucking hips, as a massive and powerful orgasm overtook him. He shot a heavy salty load into the boy’s throat at the exact time that William’s bowels emptied into Henry’s hungry orifice.

‘Yes! Yes! Priest Boy. Satan be praised. Hail Belphegor! That’s what I’m talking about!” Encouraged Samantha as she held Jasmine’s face hard against her quivering cunt.


As the spartan church choir finished its rather dull rendition of Amazing Grace, the orator stood up and took to the pulpit.

“We all sinners in thither,” Father Henry exclaimed, “We all are tempted by our corrupted flesh. The demons of temptation are strong and our vices many.”

There was a murmur of recognition from the parishioners. They momentarily looked guilty at each other, then focused on the words of their priest.

“I know I am not alone in my earthly weaknesses. I know I am not alone in my failures.”

Again miscreant and guilt-ridden murmurs rippled through the congregation.

“Lord, let us confess to You before this congregation,” he made the benediction plainly, “Give us the strength to confess what needs to be said. That You and only You, my Lord, will judge us. Let us bear the worst of ourselves. 1 John chapter 1, verse 9 ‘If we confess our sins, He is faithful and just and will forgive us our sins and purify us from all unrighteousness.’ Let us confess that we are all shameful sinners. We are repugnant and of poor virtue. Let those among my congregation that are completely free of sin, speak up now.”

There was an uncomfortable timidity among the superstitious gathering. Nobody, it appeared was without sin. Henry’s cock was rock hard. He pressed it against the blunt wooden edge of the pulpit (out of the view of the parishioners).

“Before this congregation, we confess our many struggles with sexual sin. Yes, dear Lord, There are many here who are shameless perverts of the flesh who sort false intimacy through their deviant pleasures. Only You can see us through these aberrant desires and the wickedness that we have willfully committed. Lord in your mercy. Hear our prayer .”

“Lord in your mercy. Hear our prayer.” Responded the guilty.

These were definitely not the words of their usual evening prayers. Their silence said more than anything, as there seemed to be nobody willing to say that they were without vice. Henry couldn’t help himself as he began to see-saw, pressing his erection harder and harder, sending electric shocks through his groin.

“For we are full of the unclean spirits of lust, fornication, adultery, and sodomy … Absorb us from these evil temptations. Help us embrace our demons in Your mighty name. We have taken dark pleasure in the worship of our sexual organs — We have sinfully masturbated ourselves whilst praying to demons for the joys of damnable lust. Grant us Your absolution. Lord in your mercy. Hear our prayer.”

“Lord in your mercy. Hear our prayer .” The sinners seemed to rejoice in their own secretive confessions.

He continued to arouse himself, changing the angle so that his penis was even more painfully pressed against the hard wooden surface. The pain-pleasure signals were incredible. It felt divine to be so blasphemous before his congregation.

“Bring us Your redemption. Give us Your strength to face our own wickedness. May You be glorified in us, body, mind, and spirit … Give all my brothers and sisters absolution for their sinful carnality, self-abuse, and fornication … Lord in your mercy. Hear our prayer.”

“Lord in your mercy. Hear our prayer .”

The priest’s prayers seemed to strike a note as all realized that forgiveness followed sin… so simply … so painlessly. Sin. Absolution. And Sin again. He was close to cumming.

“You are all absorbed in your sins. Go in peace!”

He collected the bible, holding it to the front of his pelvis as he stepped down from the pulpit. His semen was boiling. He needed to cum desperately. The denial was so delicious. He needed to find Samantha and Sister Alice.


“I want to surprise you,” said Samantha almost innocently.

Henry knew better. Remnants of own repression. Reluctantly he allowed Samantha to tie the blindfold around his head. She had tied it tight so that Henry could only see blackness.

“There. It wasn’t too hard,” stated Samantha.

She took his hand and led him forward. He heard the heavy wooden doors to the church nave close behind them. In the darkness, his ears seemed to be even more acute than normal. He heard the bolts being drawn. There were other ambient sounds. He could tell that they were not alone. But, this was to be no surprise party here — he knew that much. Inside the heat of the chapel, he smelt strong spicy aromas, pheromones mixing with the smokiness of many burning wax candles.

He felt Samantha removing his priestly gown and felt her place a stole around his bare neck. Without both sight or clothing, the priest felt his vulnerability. But something prevented him from whipping off the blindfold … He remained inert and patient.

“Good,” said Samantha in praise.

Now he felt a pair of hands touching him between the legs. The fingers began to delicately stroke his manhood. These small hands seemed practiced at the art of male masturbation and despite his nervousness, his penis began to stiffen under the intense pleasuring of these mysterious young hands.

“Aargghhhh …” Henry groaned in acknowledgment.

“Feels good doesn’t it?”

It was a voice he recognized as Sister Alice’s.

His hands left the sides of his body but were abruptly held back down at his sides.

“Not yet,” said another, more sterner voice.

Could it be that damnable bookseller? Henry wasn’t sure. He felt the blindfold being undone and for a moment, his eyes remained blurred as they struggled to get used to the eerie incandescence of the interior that was filled with black and red candles.

He could see that the inner chapel was in complete disarray. The large wooden crucifix that hung above the church altar had been blasphemously inverted. Chaplets were overturned and scattered on the ground. The once delicate white altar cloth was covered in bloodstains and the scattered bones of Saint Francis Xavier. In the center of the altar, upon the carved wooden book stand (intended for the church missal) laid that damnable book, the Requiem of Sins, and a small hollow skull filled with dark red liquid.

The pleasuring in his groin made Henry look downwards. He immediately recognized one of the young boys. He couldn’t remember his name, but he realized, it was the same boy who’d brought him to an exquisite orgasm at Sunday school. The boy took his cock into his mouth, whilst his fingers continued to play with his highly sensitized testicles and anus.

“Aaarghhhh …” he groaned again as the boy seemed to sense his need for more vigor in his oral pleasuring.

Henry saw Samantha. She smiled wickedly at him. At her feet, knelt a naked girl. It was Jasmine. She busied herself between Samantha’s thighs. A labor of perverted love. His satanic bride to be groaned in her own pleasure.

“Today, my dear Henry, we will be married,” she said plainly.

Married? They were married.

“Today, before Satan, you will be married.”

It was Angelique’s eloquent voice. She had anticipated his unasked question. Henry turned towards the direction of her voice.

As Henry took in the sacrilege that befell him, he noticed that both Angelique and Sister Alice wore the dark regalia of satanic sex practice. Their revealing costumes openly displayed their sexual organs. What little costume they wore was covered in the black magic sigils and sacrilegious motifs of their demonic occult.

Angelique looked the part of the Pagan High Priestess with her heavy satanic medallion. A young girl groveled between her legs (much the same as Jasmine did between Samantha’s). Angelique donned her goat-head mask to complete the amoral theatrics. This mask was more skull-like. Henry rubbed his eyes. The evil goat skull looked so realistic. Once worn, it seemed to take on a life of its own. The goat’s dark eyes darted back and forth from within its blackened orbits.

Young Sister Alice had dressed as a sluttish nun with the additions of demonic horns upon her head and a long forked tail that hung limply behind her back.

His bride-to-be was no longer in her chastity white (as she had been at their first marriage). That might have mocked her virginity. Instead, she looked decisively evil in black and red attire, encrusted with precious stones that caught the glittering of the candlelight. She was his succubus-whore. Yes, they were to be remarried; not in the Church of the Christian God, but, this time under the eyes of their true gods. Satan. Lucifer. The Devil. Belphegor. The Goat Goddess. God of the witches.

“Are you ready, my darling … Priest Boy?” cooed the evil Samantha.

They kissed deeply and passionately. No loner is abstruse, Henry’s head began to spin. Whatever she tasted of was driving him insane with lust. His cock throbbed in the mouth of the child as he face-fucked the boy faster and faster, harder and harder. He wanted Samantha so badly. Her tongue slithered in and out of his mouth. It seemed to fill his entire mouth and be unnaturally long and thick … more like a cock as it fucked his mouth.

The Goat Goddess held her arms aloft and called out loud to the evil spirits and demonic entities to possess what was left of her human form, to transform her in readiness as she stood before the desecrated and bloodied altar. The Goat Goddess held up the skull cup filled with virgin blood.

Henry noticed that where his church choir usually stood, there in its place, were the skullic-painted faces of young shamanic devotees. They were the same naked children he recognized from Samantha’s pedophilic Sunday School class. Some of the pre-teen devotees were chanting an obscene verse in their delicious young soprano voices; some were rhythmically banging their consciousness-shifting drums; as they were gathered in unholy witness for the satanic wedding ceremony that had already begun.

The young boy’s mouth was no longer pleasuring him, as both the boy and Jasmine joined their perverted classmates and Samantha guided him forward towards a silhouetted figure of the Goat Goddess, who chanted in the direction of the inverted cross.

“It’s time,” said Samantha.

Without turning the skullic Goat Goddess asked, ”Are you ready to leave your past behind? To embrace all that will come to pass? Are you ready to accept Samantha as your satanic bride? Are you ready to proclaim Satan as the true and only savior?

“Yes,” he answered.

The despotic Goat Goddess turned to face the couple as they knelt before her. She thrust the skull cup at Samantha, who drank deeply from the blackish-crimson liquid. She groaned and shuddered and her eyes seemed to roll back into her head in delirium. The Goat Goddess thrust the skull cup at Henry. It was his turn to drink. There was no turning back. This was the moment. He took the bloody cup into his shaking hands and put the edge to his lips.

“Drink the essence of evil,” said the skull face.

The ostensible mask looked beyond real and he could no longer see where the skull began and Angelique ended. They were fused together. The evil of the Goat Goddess was real. No games. No tricks. He drank the irony fluid. It tasted hot and tangy on his tongue. He felt as if his insides melting with the metallic acidity. His head was already spinning. And the sounds of the chanting children echoed back and forth. Was he dying? To hell then. To the afterlife of eternal suffering.

He hadn’t died. He was drenched in his own sweat, still kneeling before the evil Goat Goddess. Her hot wet cunt pressed forward in a demanding way. Henry’s eyes stared at the Goat Goddesses’ bulging labia.

They rippled before his eyes.

Henry felt the floor of the church tremble as if something deep beneath them was trying to burst through. He felt the serpent rising as the Goat Goddess began to scream from her inhuman mouth opening. Henry saw her oily cunt lips open wider and wider …. stretching vulgarly outwards. It reminded him of the blooming of a flower as if something from inside pressed outwards, parting and splitting her vagina in two. The rounded crown emerged of her baphometic phallus pushing forth, then followed by over a foot of its cylindrical girth. The Goat Goddess groaned in self-satisfaction as two egg-sized testicles flopped from their birth canal.

Her transformation complete, the Goat Goddess pulled Henry’s head forward, so that her demonic phallus was pressed against his lips.

“Suck it.”

Her words echoed with the barbarity of the tribe of naked children that were now led by Sister Alice, forming a loose circle around them, as they all frantically masturbated themselves and each other. It was to be an orgy to consummate their unholy marriage.

Henry opened his mouth, accepting the invading cock that pressed over his tongue, and bumped against the back of his throat. He should have gagged, but in his hallucinogenic state, what to real or unreal, what was natural or preternatural was blurred. The Goat Goddess began to fuck his face harder and harder. He took its veined length into his yielding throat as it seemed to reach down into his guts until he was impaled upon its impossible length.

“This be the sign. The joining of Samantha and Henry before Satan,” cried the Goat.

“Hail Satan,” Sister Alice and the children cried.

“Hail Satan,” Samantha cried.



Business at the ‘Rare Books, Art, and Things’ shops was much brisker, as it seemed that Holy Oak had become a regular visiting place for many traveling Satanists, occultists, and witches alike. Angelique herself had gained significant notoriety among these visitors, together with an influx of new residents (especially young families with many problematic children). Many newcomers (mostly incestuous pedophiles) now dwelt in Holy Oak, which also had seen a surge in satanic marriage ceremonies that of course the Goat Goddess to presided over.

Henry was a changed man. The priest busied himself as he welcomed the young mothers to a special guidance group to be hosted by his wife, Samantha. She intercepted him before entering the refectory. They kissed passionately. He felt her penile tongue filling his mouth – he knew that the same tongue would soon be filling the eager cunts of all the young mothers gathering inside. Breaking their kiss, Samantha whispered how delicious the new study group was going to be, and how anxious she was to have them all licking each other’s cunts in the worship of the unholy one … The Goat Goddess. Henry agreed with his beautiful satanic bride. Leaving her to the corruptive task, he told Samantha that he was late to receive the new Sister, now that Sister Alice had left Holy Oak.

While walking from the refectory, he mused upon a future of a world ruled, not under Heaven, but by the Lord of Hell, Satan. He’d heard that the young and impetuous, Sister Alice, now a full-fledged Satan worshiper, was be to reassigned. He was sure that she’d been eager to consume the unsuspecting spirits of the other pure nuns; but due to his petition, he had heard that she was now being sent by the Abbott to a special convent run by the infamous Father Ambrosio.

He was only aware of a few details of this special order of nuns but knew that they had been brought together to battle the so-called forces of darkness. They were to be like the church’s elite against the increasing satanic threat. They were supposed to root out and destroy the secret cabals of Satanists bent on bringing the Christian world to its knees before their evil master, Satan … Something of irony, he thought, as he contemplated the mayhem that would ensue from Sister Alice’s corruptive presence. Father Henry, likened it to a cuckoo … A bird that laid its eggs in the nest of other birds; the unsuspecting mother birds would help them hatch and as they grew, the ravenous young cuckoo pushed the other chicks out of the nest to their premature death. Yes, he thought, only bad things could happen … only evil could transpire.


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