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: Inspired by a close friend who is going off to Seminary School very shortly.

STORY CODES: Supernatural, Demonic, Satanic, Ritual Abuse, Rape, Corruption, Evil, Devil Worship, NC, Sexual Sin, Sex Demons, Young, Cross-dressing, Transgender, Transformation.

CREATED: 26.08.2021 / REVISITED: 12.11.2023

Seminary for Sissies 3


Peter’s father was a deeply religious man and he hated his twelve year son’s effeminate behavior. He had thought that discipline and prayer would be the answer — but it hadn’t had the desired effect. So he packed Peter off to St. Andrew’s Evangelical Seminary, hoping that the learning experience in an institution of God would make him a righteous boy … maybe even follow into the priesthood. Unfortunately, the St. Andrew’s Evangelical Seminary is filled with pedophile cross-dressing priests that parade as the “nuns” — these sexual predators use a three-stage process that they call “XXX” — Xpose, Xcite, and Xperience — to systematically abuse and molest them. Peter quickly discovers that he is not the only sissy in the school. In fact, all the boys are specially selected for their effeminate qualities and latent homosexual tendencies that feed the network of pedophile priests in the corridors of the Holy See. It’s a corrupted place where they will learn that their true god is not benevolent or holy — in fact, the priesthood serves the darkest of Gods and offers no excuses for their excesses in sexual depravity.


  • Peter – effeminate and bisexual (12)
  • William Gallop – Peter’s father, a staunch Christian (45)
  • Coleen Gallop – Peter’s mother (36)
  • John – An effeminate boy that Peter meets at the seminary school (12)
  • Matthew – An effeminate boy that Peter meets at the seminary school (12)
  • Mark – An effeminate boy that Peter meets at the seminary school (12)
  • Father Samuel – Effeminate priest and sexual predator who runs the St. Andrew’s Seminary School (36)
  • Sister Angelina – An effeminate cross-dressing priest who dresses as a “nun” (35)
  • Sister Emmanuel – An effeminate cross-dressing priest who dresses as a “nun” (39)
  • Sister Stacy – An effeminate cross-dressing priest who dresses as a “nun” (32)
  • Cardinal Angelo Becciu of the Vatican – supporter of the school, fat pervert (60)



“None of you shall approach any one of his close relatives to uncover nakedness. I am the Lord. You shall not uncover the nakedness of your father, which is the nakedness of your mother; she is your mother, you shall not uncover her nakedness. You shall not uncover the nakedness of your father’s wife; it is your father’s nakedness. You shall not uncover the nakedness of your sister, your father’s daughter, or your mother’s daughter, whether brought up in the family or in another home. You shall not uncover the nakedness of your son’s daughter or of your daughter’s daughter, for their nakedness is your own nakedness …” — Leviticus, chapter 18, verses 6 to 18.

William and Coleen Gallop arrived completely unannounced.

It was a cold and windy afternoon and the sun was hidden behind dark stormy clouds. William had written to St. Andrew’s Evangelical Seminary School on a number of occasions and had not gotten any response. Maybe it was less about the fate of his son and more about being ignored. Coleen had said that they really should go and check in on their son, as it had been over a month since young Peter had first enrolled.

Though it was a long way, William had decided to make the effort; but not out of any need to appease his concerned wife; and not out of concern for Peter either. Maybe it was his morbid curiosity. He really didn’t expect miracles, but the priest, Father Samuel, had been very convincing that their “troubled son” would get what he needed to straighten him out and fix his faggot behavior, once and for all.

The couple had an argument on the way down. William thought that Coleen had dressed far too liberally — her blouse was too thin and her dress too short — he told her that it made her look like a cheap heathen slut and that he was ashamed of her. He went on to say that when they arrive, she should not come inside the Seminary School dressed like that and that she should just wait in the car for him. Coleen had been upset with her husband’s remarks (but as usual, did not want to cross him). She just refused to talk to him, and during the long journey, had fallen into an uneasy sleep.

Leaving Coleen asleep in the car, William marched into the Seminary reception. It was Father Samuel who had intercepted the determined Mr. Gallop before he got beyond the reception area, where they had initially met. William Gallop was not a happy man.

”Well, Father, I would like to get an update. I wrote several times,” he protested, “And when there was no answer, my wife, God bless her, began to be very worried. So here I am.”

”And what were you expecting to find?” Asked the priest, dressed in his usual long black gown.

“Err, I wasn’t sure … I naturally became concerned … you know …”

“No. I don’t know. Now, Mr. Gallop, we cannot allow impromptu visitations like this. It is disruptive to the other students and we can entertain you on a proper occasion,” said the priest.

“And when exactly would that be,” blurted William, not hiding his dissatisfaction with the priest’s attitude.

“We will let you know. Now, if you don’t mind,” answered the priest, indicating in the direction of the door.

William refused to move.

“Well, it’s a long journey and …”

“And you need some refreshment,” interrupted one of the nuns.

It was Sister Angelina. Mr. Gallop seemed to be caught off guard by the interjection of such a young pretty woman. And despite her drab robe — her delightful figure seemed to be on full display. Narrow hips and bubble blossoms. His mind seemed so distracted by her. It was as if there had been a weaving of some kind of dark magic spell over his behavior.

“I … I …” William stuttered as he tried to come to terms with his unexpected sexual arousal.

He quickly placed his grasped hands in front of him to hide his bulging erection.

William imagined that his wife would certainly not approve of this petite nun with her curve-hugging silky robe and sexy fresh face. But then again … she might be fine … knowing the way she dressed lately. Unchristian.

Sister Angelina glanced over at Father Samuel. He nodded in his knowing way. She grinned at him and then turned her full attention back to Mr. Gallop.

“You’ve traveled a long way Mr. Gallop,” lured the naughty nun, “I know what you need.”

“Please … call me … William,” replied William.

It was like William had become mesmerized … maybe even hypnotized.

“Yes, William. I am Sister Angelina …” said the nun.

”You’re … an angel …” mumbled William to himself.

In an instant, he’d forgotten his frustration and anger. He couldn’t remember why he’d come to the school in the first place … any concerns he had for his son had dissipated … His mind was completely focused on the sexy nun, who had taken him by the hand, as she led him away from Father Samuel, into the rear of the Seminary reception. They walked down a long corridor … through a large set of heavy doors … down a steep stairwell … into the bowels of the old monastery sub-basements … along more dark and less “decorated” parts of the school … into a room that resembled something more like a medieval torture chamber than a place set aside for guest relations.

William had noticed nothing. He didn’t see Sister Stacy’s naked form. He didn’t feel the nuns undress him. He just stood naked until Sister Angeline helped him sit down; where Sister Stacy bound him to a low-backed chair. He didn’t realize that Sister Stacy was wiping his lips with her precum. He felt the warm mouth of the young nun wrap around his erection. Though his eyes were still wide open — they saw nothing of what surrounded him — and he was completely oblivious to the change in his situation. All that seemed to concern him was the sexual pleasure he was feeling.


”Fuck Christ. Fuck Christ. Fuck the Holy Spirit. Aaarghhhhh …” G\groaned young Peter as he shot another load of ropy semen deep inside Mark’s tight boy cunt.

Peter’s hips had been pumping wildly against his effeminate lover in the heat of their mutual passion. Finally spent, Peter collapsed against Mark’s sweaty back, as his slimy cock (coated in dark brown shit) slipped from Mark’s anal hole. Both were breathing hard from hours of faggot boy sex that had ended in a glorious prostate orgasm for Mark. Almost completely exhausted, they lay together kissing each other between ragged breaths.

“I love your dirty cock inside me,” moaned Mark, “Sodomy is so fucking hot. Hail Satan.”

”Hail Satan … What’s it like being fucked by the pervert Cardinal?” asked Peter.

”Honestly … he was so big,” said Mark, “I thought he was going to split me in two. It was like his thickness filled me completely … and then the tip of his cock kept bumping against the base of my spine … it was like electric shocks …”

“I can’t wait for my turn. I overheard Father Samuel say something about the Cardinal wanting to see the both of us again … Like he sounded totally desperate about fucking us both. But, it sounded like he was unable to leave the Holy See … so that’s when Father Samuel suggested that one of the Sisters could bring us to the Cardinal instead. Wouldn’t that be cool?”


Moments passed or was it hours? It was impossible for William to know. His brain seemed to be so hazy. His cock was still rampant and without release. When finally, he finally looked around, he noticed that he was no longer in the Seminary reception. There were no windows. No natural light. A single heavy door was closed. Only sulfuric burning torches. Why were there torches in a Seminary?

His mind struggled to get his bearings. Where was he exactly? How did he get there? He vaguely remembered the face (and body) of a very sexy woman … an angel? He’d felt sexually aroused by her. Aroused by an angel? Was it that she had some kind of heavenly power over him? He’d felt overwhelmed with uncommon passion — he’d not felt sexual urges like this since he was a horny little teenager. It was as if he’d had a magnetic attraction to the sensuous young woman — as if nothing else mattered. He struggled with this attraction to a stranger … Angel … Angeline … Sister Angeline … She was a nun. And weren’t nuns married to God? What was he thinking? He immediately felt a flash of religious guilt; and then shame for his lustful thoughts towards her.

He tried to get up from the chair that he was sitting upon and found that he couldn’t. Strange, he thought … How did I get tied up? Just then the sexy nun reappeared before William. She was not alone. He looked at the nuns and was completely speechless.

”Well, Little Willy … Father Samuel says that you’re a naughty boy?” said Sister Angeline strutting in front of him.

Her outfit was remarkably different. Instead of the drab grey-black robe that she had been wearing earlier — now the three nuns each wore blood-red satin cowls that reached down their back and covered their entire heads. Their outfits resembled something more suited to hookers at Halloween rather than a symbol of their piousness. Their cowls covered their eyes and noses like a mask; with narrow slits cut for them to see and across their foreheads were glittering gold inverted crosses. The whorish outfits were fastened around their delicate necks and beneath their bust lines, exposing their shoulders, arms, and pert little bubble breasts. The sides were also open from below the ribs, so William could see that none of the nuns had anything else beneath their gowns.

“You don’t approve of our outfits, little Willy?” asked Sister Angeline, with a sarcastic tone to her voice.

William felt a cloth placed across his nose and mouth. His head buzzed and his eyes bulged and then began to blur. His world began to spin faster and faster and then everything went dark …


Young Peter followed Sister Stacy down to the basement of the Seminary.

“There’s some time that Father Samuel wants you to see,” she said.

Peter had no idea what it was but trusted in the wisdom of his satanic teachers. In the cavernous bowels of what used to be an old monastery — everything looked old, raw, and medieval. What evil lurks below only fascinated the young boy and ignited his wicked curiosity. He had heard stories of how the secretive monks had forsaken their faith in the Abrahamic God and had turned to the glorious Lord Satan many centuries ago. He’d been fascinated with their ancient rituals and sexual practices — most of which involved orgies, pederasty, occult ritual sex, and even human sacrifices.

His thoughts stayed back to how the dark priest had asked him to abuse a young child from the local town. A ten-year-old boy who had trespassed onto the Seminary grounds and was in need of punishment. The dark priest had been coaxing him … talking about Peter’s secret dream to offer a sacrifice to Satan … the dream where he’d envisioned the torture of the ugly old Cardinal. The joy of cruelty. Sadism. It had never been in his nature. He was just a little sissy looking for cock. But there was a noir power of corruption that the dark priest seemed to want him to grasp — a lesson to be learned.

Mark had held the naked boy down while he had forced the boy to drink his piss. He’d fucked his face hard … getting the boy to orally copulate with him against his will — threatening to hurt him if he did not comply. Then both of them, Mark and Peter, sodomized him. Mark had gone first. Then it was his turn. All the while, the dark priest had watched over them … overseeing their evil deeds … encouraging them to abuse the kid … as he masturbated his serpent-like cock. These things had been all new delights.

Finally, Sister Stacy came to their destination. The nun opened a heavy door that led to a room without windows. The dim room looked like a medieval torture chamber. The walls were lined with all kinds of strange metallic objects, seemingly designed for pain and torment — but all of this faded in an instant as Peter recognized the naked figure bound to a heavy metallic chair located at the center of the room — it was his father.

Peter had mixed thoughts. First, he’d never seen his father naked. His cruel and uncaring father now looked weak and vulnerable. Unconscious and unaware that his queer, faggot son was standing there. The years of Ill-treatment and humiliation for his sexual identity welled up inside him.

“Father Samuel wanted you to know that your father will not be harmed. He will soon be returned to his pious life of the Abrahamic church. But we will be reprogramming a few things first.”

Peter wanted to scream in his face. But instead, Peter laughed.

”He wanted me to be like him. Fucking bigot. He brought me here thinking I would find God.”

Peter spat in his face. But his father did not respond.

“But you did,” answered Sister Stacy as she caressed Peter’s neck with her dainty painted fingernails, “Just not his God. Your own God. The Lord of Darkness. The Cock God. The God of Sissies.”

“Yes.” Peter kissed Sister Stacy on the mouth, “I feel that I am no longer alone.”

Their tongues intertwined as their hard cocks rubbed against each other.

”You aren’t alone anymore — and your lust journey has just begun.”

“What will happen to him?”

“Father Samuel has a ritual in mind. And he will be our guest of honor.”


William Gallop found himself in the Dark Chapel of St. Andrew’s.

This was not a chapel dedicated to his Abrahamic God. No, this was a chapel of lust and sin, dedicated to the most profane of dark sex rituals, performed by the high priests and priestesses of Satan, His perverted shemale nuns, and their sex slave children. Here, there were no boundaries. The darkness crackled with the evil of black magick. The smell of toilet sex, cock flesh, aphrodisiacs, and burnt offerings filled the heavy air.

William tried to focus.

Where were his clothes? Why was he bound face-down, with his arms and legs bound down the legs of, what he thought was, an uncomfortable saw-horse? He felt a dull pain inside his rectum. Something large had been stuck up inside his anus. It felt uncomfortably large, wedged up into his bowels and stretching his anal cavity for God knows what?

The air inside the chapel was overly hot and humid. William could smell his own sourish sweat. His bladder ached to be released too. He lifted his spinning head momentarily. He looked around the candlelit chapel. The large backlit stained glass windows were not the kind that told of saintly deeds — instead, they were embellished with blasphemous scenes of transgendered demons sodomizing young boys … their serpent-like penises were all erect. It made William feel sick. Queer demons. Disgusting.

Upon the long dark-clothed altar, William saw the crucifix with his savior — but it stood the wrong way up. There were other disturbing signs of occult idolatry … of devil worship … extreme sexual perversion … evil and wickedness.

“Willy …” said a sweet effeminate voice.

William recognized the attractive young nun in the red satin outfit. Had they drugged him? What kind of seminary would do that? What had she said? …

“You’ve been a naughty boy …”

William tried to move, but both his arms and legs were too tightly fastened to the four legs of the heavy saw horse. He was completely immobilized.

“Willy … wake up little Willy … time for evening prayers …” mocked the amorous nun.

He felt the nun’s small hands touch his exposed bottom; tickling his perineum gently as her long red fingernails ran down his back and then, as she knelt down next to him, he saw her pretty face, partly hidden in the satin red cowl … she kissed his face … kissed his lips … and smiled slyly. As she stepped back from him, again he remembered her strange slutty clothing. He shyly looked up at her and noticed how her fake bubble boobs stood outwards, crowned with dark brown nipples. As his eyes glanced down, she parted the front panel of her outfit, exposing her thin, pale frame, tiny waist, and … and then his mind went into a shock, as he came to realize that she wasn’t a woman at all. Her fingers fondled her stiff penis, masturbating herself as she stood before him. He felt sickened in his guts. He wanted to scream!

“Get … get away … from me … you … you …. You fucking queer!” he snapped.

The nun laughed. She was not alone.



“Do not deprive each other except perhaps by mutual consent and for a time, so that you may devote yourselves to prayer. Then come together again so that Satan will not tempt you because of your lack of self-control.” — 1 Corinthians, chapter 7, verse 5.

The Dark Chapel glowed with the smoldering lusts of forty horny little sissies.

They had all been summoned by Father Samuel to attend a “special ritual”. Here in the Dark Chapel, Father Samuel and the nuns honored three demons — Philantanus, the demon of pedophilia and pederasty; Baal, the demon of sodomy; and Byleth, the demon of incest. The huge phallic-shaped stained glass windows depicted scenes of queer hell … of transgendered demons with their effeminate acolytes. Queer pornographic art adorned almost every surface.

The hapless William Gallop had unwittingly fallen out of the frying pan into the proverbial fire. He struggled against his restraints. He tried to free himself, pulling here and pulling there … it hurt the more he struggled. After exhausting himself, he realized that his efforts were wasted. There was no way to escape his predicament. The acrid smell of cock, piss, and feces filled William’s nostrils. He wanted to vomit.

Hundreds of fat black candles lit the inner chamber of the evil Dark Chapel. It made it difficult to know for sure, but among the gathering of young boys, William wondered if one of them was Peter. They all wore horned demon masks that disguised the upper half of their faces. They all looked so pale and white, like ghosts, dressed only in sheer black pantyhose. Was one of them his twelve-year-old son? The masked boys cavorted, leaped, and danced provocatively around the unholy nuns as they all chanted blasphemous words in praise of their wicked idols.

“Tasa reme laris Satan. Ave Satanas! Tasa reme laris Satan. Ave Satanas! Tasa reme laris Satan. Ave Satanas!” They all cried in their girly voices.

William squinted in the iridescent candlelight. He wanted to look away, but he couldn’t. He was transfixed, staring at the young boys, as they leaped around him lewdly. All excited. All prone. Their hard little cocks tented the thin translucent black nylon as they air-fucked before their evil mistresses. Was this just a nightmare? William desperately wanted to awaken. Was Peter one of the perverted children that prayed to the Devil?

“Help me, God. Help me,” … he prayed. Had God forsaken him? “Awaken me, God. Make this all go away!”

He prayed for salvation. But of course, nothing happened. Nothing changed.

A young sissy boy, that could have been his son, knelt before one of the three evil nuns dressed in their obscene red satin outfits. William was appalled to think that, early that night, he’d found one of the nuns attractive (before discovering their true sexual identity).

“Devils,” he thought, “Demons. Succubi.”

The boy knelt as Sister Angeline exposed her rampant cock and offered it to the eager mouth of the preteen boy. William saw the boy’s little pink tongue darting out and lapping at the underside of the nun’s curved erection before his greedy little mouth engulfed the nun’s cock head. Urine poured from the corner of the boy’s lips Was the boy actually drinking the nun’s piss? Disgusting!

William could not believe it. As the boy swallowed her dark amber piss stream, the child cupped and fondled the nun’s low-hanging testicles. The child pressed his delicate lips closed around the thick mushroom head of the nun’s hard-on as even more dirty-yellow fluids poured down over his chest as his little cheeks bulged against the vigorous thrusting of the nun’s pissing cock.

“God help me! Peter! … Peter!” William cried in vain.

“God?” It was the hypnotic voice of Father Samuel, “… look how much your son has learned since coming to St. Andrew’s, Mr. Gallop … he absolutely worships the taste of cock and piss … especially tranny cock … look how he eagerly he swallows her hot salty piss … drinking all the Devil’s sacrament,” the priest licked his lips, “What a lucky boy he is and tonight is a special occasion for young Peter. Because tonight you will witness the deflowering of his anal virginity — after which his soul belongs to us — all for the greater joy of Satan.”

”Aarghhhhhhh … Untie me you faggot. Let me go! Stop this madness!” cried William.

”You’re going to enjoy this. You’ll have a front-row seat for our ceremony of demonic sodomy … if you’re obedient, I may let you clean my cock afterward?”

“Aaarghhhhh … Let me go … you fucking queer!” cried William.

”But Mr. Gallop you are our guest of honor,” said Father Samuel.

“Untie me you fucking faggot!”

“And let you spoil all the depraved fun? No, I don’t think so. Besides, Mark here,” the priest pointed beyond William’s line of sight, “He’s going to deflower you too. That’s right, both at the same time … father and son … isn’t that going to be so much more fun than your average Saturday night in the Gallop house?”

The priest reached beneath the seat of the saw horse that was divided into two long strips with a gap wide enough for William’s genitals to hang between. The priest’s expert fingers stroked the reluctant man’s cock … bringing it to an unwanted erection.

”Stop! Stop! You faggots make me sick! Don’t touch me you evil son-of-a-bitch!” Screamed William.

Father Samuel laughed out loud. He had already begun to weave his evil spell over the weak mind of Peter’s homophobic father — enchanting him, as he removed the thick butt plug that had been inserted in William’s anus. Now the man’s asshole gaped … open and inviting … Mark moved closer to Father Samuel — they tongue-kissed wildly. Mark knew that at the anointed time, he would be called upon to thrust his hard little cock into the man’s shit hole … exactly at the time that Father Samuel would sodomize young Peter before the great idol of the twin-sex god.


Coleen wasn’t sure how long she had been waiting in their family car. She’d been fast asleep. It was parked just outside St. Andrew’s school. It had been a very long drive, and after their argument, she had drifted off into an uncomfortable sleep. It was getting colder. At least she a had blanket. She wondered what was taking so long.

Awake now, she got out of the car to stretch her legs. It was frigidly cold outside, so she quickly returned to the warmth of the car. When her husband had not returned, she decided it was time for her to find out what the delay was about. He was supposed to just talk to the management and find out why they had not returned his messages.

William was always so angry. So aggressive. So rude to her. Calling her a cheap slut. Forbidding her to join him, just because he felt that she dressed inappropriately. Fuck him. But she was truly worried about her son … innately, she wanted to trust the school that came highly recommended … but Peter wasn’t like the other boys … he was sensitive … he was small and petite … he was more like a daughter than a son.

Her thoughts were quickly drawn to unholy things. With Peter gone, she had been alone with only her holier-than-thou husband. He was never very affectionate or warm. He had no idea about a woman’s needs. Why was she married to such a boring drag? And sex with him was just a duty, performed without any reward of orgasm.

Maybe she’d dressed more provocatively just to annoy him? Well … she had been so sinful. Increasingly so, of late, having found herself searching online for guidance, but instead of finding the Christian help she sought, she’d discovered a strange website called “Littlesally666.”

At first, she’d been horrified at what she’d seen and read. More than erotic, more than unchristian, more than unnatural … it was filled with articles, stories, and art that depicted a strange assortment of sexual demonology — the worship of Lilith and Satan glorified — and crazy stories of incest, pedophilia, transsexualism, blasphemy, witchcraft, devil worship and worse. She’d become totally obsessed with the idea of her clit growing to the size of a man’s cock, so that she could anally fuck little boys and offer them to Satan.

What’s more, she’d begun to realize that she was not alone in her sinful thoughts — that there were others just like her — many others caught in the conventions of religious doctrine and societal expectations … men, women, and transsexuals who obviously got great enjoyment from these darkly unnatural and unchristian acts … be they consensual or not. It was a window to a different world — A demonic world.

Maybe, it was all too much? Maybe this was not for her? She had, at first, rejected it outright … closed the computer off, and erased the history (just in case William should find out). But, within no time, she found herself indulging in her new-found playground. She had told herself, “Never again” … but alias, she was back with vengeance; as she sat for hours masturbating whilst cumming over and over to all the filth and perversion she could find.

There were many things she had allowed herself to imagine … and many more that she had not … but she simply couldn’t get enough. As soon as her wretched husband left for work in the morning, she found herself impatient for more. She would literally experience a shortage of breath as she waited for him to be gone.

Up until this time, she had never considered herself a lesbian or even been remotely attracted to other women … but the discovery of transgendered demons really got her off. Using a long white candle for a dildo, she had first carved its end, then lubricated it in baby oil and masturbated with it vigorously as she imagined that it was the she-cock of a tranny demon sent to fuck her for Satan and Lilith.

When vaginal wasn’t enough — she became curious about anal penetration — there were so many stories about the sinful pleasure of sodomy … about opening the third eye … yes, she wanted to try this too. She found images of other women using strapless dildos. She marveled at how sexy they looked, flat-chested succubi with hard big cocks between their legs — still so feminine, yet there was something more provocative about their androgyny.

Her intense pleasure was always followed by intense anxiety. The greater the high — the greater the fall. A serious conflict of faith … though Coleen’s propensity for self-hatred had given way to an uneasy alliance between “harmless fantasy” and her new reality — she knew she had crossed a line.

Coleen looked out of the car window at the entry to St. Andrew’s School. Fuck him, she thought. She opened the door and walked up the wide gravel driveway, leaving the relative comfort of the car. She knocked on the large doors and got no answer.


No answer.

The coldness of the wind cut through her thin clothing. Taking the initiative, she opened the door and walked inside the school’s reception hall. The door closed behind her. At least it was warm inside. Maybe a bit too warm. The light punched through the decorative stained glass windows and made colored patterns over the white-washed walls, upon which hung a huge St. Andrew’s Cross. It looked different from the crosses that she was used to at the small local church that William and she attended. It reminded her of some of the sinful stories she had read — who used such things for bondage and for devil worship. She imagined a young naked boy-child, her son’s age or younger, bound to the heavy cross, completely exposed and accessible for her to use for her own unnatural sexual gratification. She tried to silence her inappropriate thoughts. Still, she felt an inappropriate tingling in her loins. She tried to ignore it — but her clit was erect and chafing against her translucent knickers.

Coming here … What had she expected? She wasn’t sure.

“William? William, are you here?” she asked in the void, “Anyone, is there anyone here? Hello?”

It seemed deserted. Her voice echoed, as did her footsteps, as she crossed the reception to the entry to the school proper. William must be with the priest, she thought. He had talked to her about Father Samuel. How he had been so convincing and calming his anger. Maybe they were talking right now. Maybe she should not intercede. She should just go back to the car and wait patiently.

But, just as she turned to leave, she heard the muffled sounds of chanting. Was it their evening prayer time? That would make sense. Was she interrupting their religious routine? Where was her husband?

Coleen followed the sounds. Down a long corridor. She passed classrooms, dorms, and other utility rooms. Nothing seemed out of place, except there were no students, no teachers, no lessons … just emptiness. Room after room. Empty. Maybe they were all at an assembly? Again she followed to sounds that seemed louder as she advanced.

The warmth was stifling. Coleen found herself sweating despite her thin clothing. She opened more buttons in an effort to cool down. The sound drew her downwards into the belly of the beast. Her sharp ears drew her to the large doors of what appeared to be the entry to the school’s subterranean chapel.

The sight that greeted her was shocking. She quickly covered her mouth as she gasped at the sight of countless naked young boys. Not masculine or athletic — but girly, thin, androgynous she-bois — their queer movements were so effeminate, but Coleen found them highly sexual and very exciting. Her cunt creamed and quivered at the sight of so many little boys’ cocks to suck and fuck — all hard and dripping with precum — her mouth watered as pedophilic impulses surged through her as she stood rooted to the spot. Without even realizing what she was doing, her hand was up her short dress and into her soaked panties as she began masturbating desperately.



“But I am afraid that just as Eve was deceived by the serpent’s cunning, your minds may somehow be led astray from your sincere and pure devotion to Christ.” — 1 Corinthians, chapter 11, verse 3.

Coleen’s presence had not gone unnoticed. Though she felt the urge to hang back in the shadows … out of sight of the dancing boys dressed in sheer black pantyhose and devil masks … Father Samuel still sensed her presence. He moved silently behind her. He could see and feel her unnatural cravings for perverted lust as she freely masturbated herself.

“You must be Peter’s mother?” asked the priest.

“Yes I am,” she answered proudly.

Coleen wasn’t startled or embarrassed about being in this evil place. Quite the opposite. She stared openly at all the naked young boys as they cavorted around taking turns at sucking the cocks of the transvestite nuns. The desire to masturbate faster and faster was almost overwhelming. At last, she thought, she was among her own kind.

The priest stood immediately behind her. There was a magnetism that drew their bodies against one another. He held her gently against him, as he began to caress her tiny A-cup breasts that never needed an adult bra.

“Isn’t he beautiful …” she groaned, placing her hand over the priest’s and guiding it down between her straddling legs that were covered only by her short skirt.

“Yes, he is,” answered the evil priest, “Why don’t you let me undress you … you will be more comfortable … and then you should come and join our dark little ritual?”

”But … it’s evil and perverted,” she confessed unconvincingly, “It’s so blasphemous … incestuous … pedophilic … I would be entertaining the Devil?”

”Exactly my dear …” answered the priest, “And Satan welcomes you to His dominion. He knows what’s in your dark little heart. And I can feel the wickedness perspiring right through your flimsy blouse — the one that your husband said makes you look like a cheap slut. He knows the things you do … He encourages them. He wants you to fulfill your darkest desires. In fact, He demands your obedience to His perverted lusts …”

Father Samuel’s fingers reached easily below her short skirt and began exploring her dripping little cunt.

“But … I want to fuck my son … I want to fuck him so bad … I’ve been thinking about it every day … cumming over and over as I imagine his little boy cock in all my holes. I know it’s wrong, but all I think about is sex with young children … argh,” she spasm-ed with sexual delight, “It’s so taboo … it’s unnatural … but I want young cunts and cocks … It’s vile … It’s disgusting … but, you see, I hear a voice in my conscience saying that I mustn’t act upon these compulsions … that I mustn’t go against the word of God!”

Coleen began to grind her narrow little hips against the priest’s bulging cock — that pressed so hard against her rear. Her right hand gripped her bare chest (crawling at her bullet-hard nipples), while the fingers of her left hand slipped between their bodies in search of the priest’s serpent-like cock.

“But you’re listening to the wrong voice … your old God is a bastard … you think the Abrahamic God cares about you? Really? Do you think the God of Christians is a fair and just God? He’s a fake. He’s a liar. He’s a pretender. He’s never been there for you or Peter. He hates faggots, queers, and incestuous mothers. His vague promises of heaven are just empty air …”

Father Samuel tore the last of her clothing from her body — which glowed with a sexual arousal like she’d never felt before. Coleen’s hand rubbed directly against the priest’s serpent bulge. She was imagining it filling her cunt … or even better … filling her bowels.

“Now the true God,” he breathed heavily against her earlobe.

His moist lips kissed her delicate skin. His tongue snaked out to taste her salty sweat. His husky voice was hot and lusty.

“The Dark God … He offers you endless bliss … all the sexual pleasure and sinful lust you crave … He doesn’t judge you … No … He wants you to satisfy your wickedest of sexual desires! You shall have your son … you shall have his cock … you shall have as many cocks as you want … their cum will cover your entire body!”

“Oh, Yes! Yes!”

Coleen stood completely naked. Her juices ran down the inside of her thighs. She gasped in a shortage of breath as Father Samuel’s fingers penetrated deeper and deeper … further than hers … further than her husband’s cock.

‘Aaarghhhhhh …” Coleen groaned.

“Here and now … show Him your obedience … bow down before Him … deny the Abrahamic aberration … offer your soul to Him … give yourself to the dominion of Hell and all that you lust for will be yours!”

“Oh, Hail Satan …” she groaned, “I want Satan to give me a cock … a fucking big shemale cock … just like your nuns … so I can fuck my faggot son hard up his dirty little shit hole …”

“Yes … Now you’re talking!”


Peter removed his little devil mask and watched the dark priest, from the corner of his eye.

The priest seemed to be seducing a woman at the threshold of their chapel. She looked petite and thin. He couldn’t quite see her face, as she stood as a silhouette against the light, but he could feel her eyes on him. Why him? His cocklet stood out at right angles to his body, pressing outwards against the thin silky material of his black pantyhose. He felt sexy stroking himself. The other effeminate boys were all identically dressed. Their feisty masturbation dance was getting wilder with every passing moment. Hail the Dark God. Hail Satan. Hail Lilith. Hail Philantanus, the demon of pedophilia and pederasty. Hail Baal, the demon of sodomy. And hail Byleth, the demon of incest.

The priest had said that there was a surprise for him. Of course, he knew the dark priest, Father Samuel, was not who he had first claimed to be. He was no man of God. Not the Christian God that encouraged fear and suffering … The priest was something else, like a sexual demon with occult powers.

He knew black magick.

Peter had witnessed him use it — like on the young boy from the village — the boy that Mark and him had sexually abused and raped. He feared the boy would run off and tell his family and have the whole village come and burn the school down (like they did to witches in the Middle Ages). But after Peter had finished with him, the priest had done something to him. Peter couldn’t understand it — but the boy seemed to have no recollection of what had happened and the priest had arranged for him to be left outside the school gate. There had been no reprisal. Nothing.

As the priest approached him, Peter immediately recognized the naked woman following in his stride — it was his own mother — she looked so different. Her body glowed with sexual sweat. He’d never seen her completely naked before. She looked sexy. He liked her thin, anorexic body. All skin and bones, flat chested, hairless … androgynous … like him. More like a little boy than a woman. He wanted to fuck her. Incest was so delicious. Let his father watch him … fuck his own mother. Fuck God. Fuck Jesus.

“Kneel, Peter,” said the priest, “Kneel and suck the hole from once you were born … to be reborn as a sex demon … to a succubus mother.”


William looked in abject horror. First his son. A fucking screaming faggot. Now, his wife, a whore. A witch. They were both looking at him. Bound helplessly to the damnable saw horse. Unable to move. Unable to rip their pagan hearts out.

He’d watched his own son lick her dirty itchy cunt. He hated cunnilingus. Real men didn’t do things like that. Incest was aberrant. They were both aberrant. In God’s name why hadn’t he seen this before … she had made his son into a screaming faggot fuck. It was her. She’s possessed by sex demons. It was her and that fucking priest. That Father Samuel — he was no Man of God — he was a demon too. They were both demons. He had never intended to help his son … he was a dirty faggot too. They were all faggots. Pansy-assed queer fucks who did the devil’s work.

The young boy, whom the priest had called Mark, returned to his side. Another faggot. He hated all homosexuals. The boy had started touching him. Touching his behind. He hated to be touched by queers. William’s bladder gave way and he began to piss himself.

“Stop touching me! Get off of me!” demanded William.

The boy just laughed at him. He was in no position to make demands. He’d just pissed himself. He felt the boy remove whatever it was that had been stuffed up the inside his ass … there was a momentary sense of release … a moment where the feeling of fullness dissipated, but then, the boy began to rub his hard little genitals against his buttocks.

“Stop … in the name of Jesus … stop this sinfulness!”

William felt helpless. He was surrounded by fags. He began to shake all over. Why God? Why my family? He could feel the boy pressing the blunt end of his cock against his gaping sphincter. The boy’s penis slid inside of him so easily. Their balls were touching. Tingling. It repulsed him.

“Get away from me you fucking faggot!”

William looked up and saw his son kneeling up the altar. The priest knelt behind him, holding his son’s hips. They were having anal sex. William began to cry. At the same moment, he could feel the boy’s hands grip him as he began to thrust forward … in and out … in and out … buggering him … raping him rhythmically to the beat of the pagan drums … sodomizing him to Hell. His prostate reacted unwillingly to the internal stimulation. William’s cock began to stiffen. The boy fucked him … faster and faster …


“Thank you, Father Samuel,” said Peter’s father, “I am happy to hear that my son is doing so well with his religious studies. I must admit that I was skeptical. You know. He’s not the brightest. But he’s a good boy.”

Father Samuel ushered William to his car which was parked just outside the gates of St. Andrew’s. He wasn’t sure what it was that he had been so worried about all this time. Such nice people, those nuns. Father Samuel was the salt of the earth. A teacher. A guide. A mentor. He was lucky to have accepted his son. Such a good decision to bring Peter to the school. The fact that his wife, Coleen, had volunteered to help out at the school was a positive thing too. He guessed. He’d miss her. Sweet woman. But he had church duties. He’d have to return home. He’d call before visiting next time. Wouldn’t want to interfere with the rigorous religious training of the Seminary school.

Well, it was time to leave.

He shook the priest’s hand. Good decision bringing his son to Seminary. To think that he might become a priest one day. He’d heard that his son and his son’s dorm buddy had been hand-picked to go to the Holy See. The Vatican. He’d heard that Cardinal Angelo Becciu of the Vatican had taken a liking to the boy. He was destined for great things. A chip off the old block. He would be so proud to share the good news with the church elders at home.


Peter waved to his father and turned to take his mother’s hand. They kissed. Mouth to mouth. Their lips mashed. Their tongues explored each other ravenously. His cock was hard immediately and he felt his mother’s fingers gripping his childish erection through this cum-stained tunic. He looked back to see the car disappear. His father was gone. He laughed to himself at how things had turned around. The dark priest had said they would.

He remembered the feeling of being fucked over the dark altar by the satanic priest. Blasphemously sodomized in the unholy name of the one true God, Satan. The tremendous pleasure and the dull aching pain. He now knew what Mark had meant about the feeling of fullness. The flashes of white light as his third eye had been opened. Being fucked by a sex demon. He felt free. He felt free to do the things that he had always wanted to do … but had been afraid to admit.

His mother would not be able to join them for the trip to the Holy See. Father Samuel would have her kept busy with the other young boys — while he escorted Mark and him to visit the Cardinal. He couldn’t wait.


The End?


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