DISCLAIMER: The following is fiction. The content of the story is not representative of the writer’s beliefs, opinions, or attitudes. This story is intended for adult entertainment only. The characters and events depicted in this work are fictional. The author does not condone or promote any unlawful activity such as is depicted in the story. By continuing to read this work you acknowledge that you are an adult who wishes to read works of fantasy and fiction for the purpose only of fantasy. All the characters in this story are adults. They may play different ages for the fictional character that they are depicting but they remain at all times adults. All Rights Reserved © 2023 LITTLESALLY666.
STORY CODES: Supernatural, Demonic, Satanic, Ritual Abuse, Rape, Corruption, Evil, Devil Worship, NC, Sexual Sin, Sex Demons, Young, Cross-dressing, Transgender, Transformation.
CREATED: 10.12.2021 / REVISITED: 09.11.2023
Seminary for Sissies 5
SYNOPSIS OF SEMINARY SCHOOL FOR SISSIES
This is a story about the continuing escapades at St. Andrew’s Evangelical Seminary. Remotely located in an old monastery, St. Andrew’s has become renowned as an institution for being dedicated to turning unwanted sissy boys back to the ways of Abrahamic God. Unknown to most, this is simply a front for the opposite; as it is a corrupt place filled with cross-dressing pedophiles that parade themselves as the “nuns”. These sexual predators use a three-stage process that they call “XXX” — Xpose, Xcite, and Xperience — to systematically abuse and molest their willing prey. What’s more is that St. Andrew’s harbors more sinister secrets; where the young sissies will learn that the true god is not benevolent nor holy; and that they have been enlisted to all serve the darkest of Gods who demand only the most depraved of acts to satisfy their carnal lusts.
CHARACTERS
- Peter – effeminate and bisexual (12)
- Mark – An effeminate boy that Peter meets at the seminary school (12)
- Coleen Gallop – Peter’s mother (36)
- Father Samuel – Effeminate priest and sexual predator who runs the St. Andrew’s Seminary School (36)
- Cardinal Angelo Becciu of the Vatican – supporter of the school, fat pervert (60)
- Timothy – a boy from Mark’s Sunday school (12)
- Miss Stella Jarvis – a small bookish woman, Mark’s Sunday school teacher (27)
- Bishop Paulo Romeo of Firenze – part of the Fallen Ones (52)
- Deacon Betori Giuseppe – part of the Fallen Ones (36)
- Mother Superior Santa Maria – true hermaphrodite (28)
- Leonardo Battista – President of the Council of Cardinals (65)
SEMINARY FOR SISSIES – CHAPTER THIRTEEN (2,609 WORDS)
“And there were also male cult prostitutes in the land. They did according to all the abominations of the nations that the Lord drove out before the people of Israel.” — 1 Kings, chapter 14, verse 24.
Timothy watched his mean parents walk away.
He had always secretly hated them. In fact, he couldn’t remember a time when he had actually not hated them. Catherine the bigot. Ernest the cuckold. Fuck them. His Sunday school teacher, Miss Jarvis, and Coleen, the mother of a boy called Peter, walked them out of the chapel before returning (after Timothy’s parents left in their car — he’d heard the tires screech as they left the curb).
The gentle priest, Father Samuel, had taken him aside.
He seemed to be kind, reassuring, and non-judgmental. Not angry or mean (like his folks). The priest had said something about not being afraid; that things would be different from now on; that he’d never be punished for what had transpired between him and young pretty Mark. Timothy had been surprised that he would refer to Mark, as “young and pretty”. He mentioned something about other sissy boys and their “delicious little cocks” — It seemed inappropriate for the clergy to even recognize their sexual relationship as anything other than shameful and sinful. It confused him in his darkest moment of shame and regret.
As much as Timothy wanted to believe that it could be true … that he could find a sanctuary — he somehow doubted it. He was at rock bottom. He felt that he had committed something terrible. Truly terrible. The events that had led up to this moment had made him believe that he was beyond any kind of holy redemption; that he had been caught doing something that could only be described as a disgusting immoral sin — it was a sin before his all-powerful Abrahamic God — and for this, he would be caste into the fires of hell and face damnation for eternity.
Even though his parents were long gone — he still heard his mother’s angry and bitter voice, scolding him severely … viciously saying … “you have the devil between your legs … you are an evil and wicked creature … you’re going straight to hell!” Her voice spat the words out. There was no care or love or pity … only contempt and abject hatred … “How could you bring such shame to our family? You are no son of ours!”
His mind was brought back from the brink of despair. The teacher held a glass of plain water.
“Drink this!” said the grinning teacher, “You need to chill!”
Her grin looked out of character. He drank it down quickly without spilling a drop.
”Good boy.”
Immediately his head was spinning as it had been tainted with Rohypnol (a tasteless, colorless, aroma-less, date-rape drug sometimes often called roofie or roach or rope or wolfies).
Echoes. So many echoes? Spinning. What had he been thinking about? His parents? Their concerns? He’d done something? But now he found it hard to focus on what that was? Why couldn’t he think straight? There was the sound of a car engine. Traffic lights. Blurred images around him. He rested for a moment — but wasn’t really asleep. Was he being punished? The school … a place … a sanctuary? For a moment, all he could focus on was his own breathing. More echoes. Like a marble rolling around in his empty head.
“Get … get comfortable … it’s a long ride … ride … ride … ride ”
Everything continued to echo.
“They … they … they … use it for date rape … rape … rape … you know … you know … you know …”
Somebody laughed out of his line of sight.
He felt the coolness of the leather seats beneath his naked legs and buttocks. When had he lost his pants and underwear? The priest and the two women were going to take him somewhere? A monastery. A school. A seminary … What was a seminary? He remembered very little of how he got there. The journey had been strange. Vibrating. Echoing. Everything was blurred. Voices slurred in his mind. Sounds were like liquid … as if he was underwater… he felt warm. Then hot. He felt very hot. Glimpses only. And parts of disassociated conversations continued to overlap and echo in his young and impressionable mind.
“You want to be a cock sucker don’t you?”
”A cock sucker!”
”A young pretty … cock sucker …”
He felt a finger pushed between his lips. The finger moved back and forth as if fucking his mouth.
“His mouth is just delicious … suck it child … that’s it … suck it! … fuck yer!”
”The kid’s so fucking horny … his cock is hard as a nail!”
“He’s making me hard too.”
“Mmmmmm … fuck Christ! … I want to see you put your cock in his mouth!”
The sound of the sea?
“Hail Satan!”
“Oh yes, he’ll make a pretty faggot boy!”
”A devil-worshiping faggot boy!”
His boy penis had become erect as one of the older women stroked him. She was masturbating him. Her painted fingernails glided up and down his wet slick sissy dick.
“His cock is nice and hard!”
He felt the up-and-down motion. His foreskin rolled back. Dew drops of precum leaked over her fingers. Delicious pleasure. The dark eerie clouds that lit up in the storm.
“Masturbation feels good … doesn’t it?”
”Where you’re going, you be doing lots of this!”
The clap of thunder? The priest’s strong hand upon his bare thigh.
“Anal … anal sex … he’s a tight fuck … virgin …”
No longer in the car?
The priest’s finger penetrated the tightness of his rectum. It felt thick and relentless, drilling upwards into him.
“Let me taste your tight little anus.”
A dark place. Bare walls. A fireplace. Skulls and bones? Witchy. The smell of burnt things. He couldn’t remember how his clothes had been removed? Naked and hot. His bladder hurt with its uncomfortable fullness. He needed to piss really badly.
“That’s it, piss in her mouth. Good boy!”
There was the heady smell of his own urine. He could smell the sourness of sexual sweating.
”His urine is sweet! Mmmmmmm …”
“I want to fuck him first!”
He recognized his Sunday school teacher and the mother of the boy, Coleen. They were both completely naked.
“My turn to taste his little cock!”
He saw their smallish white breasts were almost flat — like a boy’s. Bony chests and rib-cages. Overly thin and emaciated. He thought of demons — those medieval images of demons. Demons of pleasure. Succubi. There was the overwhelming feeling of more pleasure.
“Young cock makes me so fucking horny!”
”Blessed is the God of Pedophiles! Hail pederasty!”
“Fuck yer, welcome to the Church of Pedophiles,” said one of the women … Coleen.
They looked like whores. Street whores. Their ugly pouting pussies were both shaven of hair, but still darkened and raw, like the evening shadow of a man’s facial hair. Their oversized clitorises protruded beyond their labia like little fingers. They embraced each other. Frantically rubbing the clits together like two small boys frotting … cock to cock. The two women kissed wildly, mouth to mouth. He could see their busy tongues moving back and forth like wriggling worms. It appeared that the priest only encouraged their sinfulness.
“Suck mommy’s tits,” said one of the women — he thought it was his teacher.
His mouth was full of her hard nipple. Like a little stiff cock. His anus was filled with the thickness of the priest’s finger as it twisted inside him and rubbed harder and faster against his ripe prostate.
“Milk him, my dear incubus!”
Yet more illicit pleasure. Timothy’s cock jerked of its own accord and dripped with syrupy-like precum.
“Mmmmm … I’m so fucking horny … Let me rub my juices over his pretty little face … there … That it! Fuck yer! Now he smells of satanic cunt!”
Timothy’s face felt slimy. He was covered with their filth. He could taste the tangy flavor of female juices, unwashed cunt and anus. Dirty. There was the ripe smell of freshly made shit.
A new kind of pleasure began to well upwards. A blissfulness filled his tiny body. There were lips around the tip of his cock. Soft, delicate lips. And the priest’s finger see-sawed, in and out, rubbing his prostate to the point of no return.
“Aggghhhhghhhhhhhhhhhhhh! …” Timothy moaned.
“His precum is delicious! I want him to shoot in my mouth! I must have his boy cum!”
“Oh yes, Christ be fucked! Here it comes! He’s going to shoot!”
“Suck my clit! Suck my clit! I’m almost there too!”
“Aaarghhhh … Fuck! Fuck! … Aaaghhhhh … Fuck the Holy Spirit!”
Pleasure upon pleasure.
“Fuck Jesus Fucking Christ. Fuck the Holy Spirit!”
“He’s going to cum … he’s going to cum …”
Their greedy mouths took turns sucking upon his tiny boy cock. His narrow hips began to jerk uncontrollably as he emptied his testicles over their waiting faces — ropy spurt after ropy spurt — and some caught into their open mouths.
xxxxx
Timothy awoke alone.
He sat up sharply in a small cot, covered with a simple thin sheet. Timothy took a deep breath. He checked beneath the bed’s clothing and found that he was indeed naked. No sign of his clothing or any of his personal belongings. The room was more like a dorm. There were two beds side by side. Small beds. There was a large floor-to-ceiling mirror and an open wardrobe.
Timothy looked at his reflection. His reflection looked back at him.
It definitely wasn’t the morning. Maybe it was the evening or even the middle of the night. He wasn’t sure. The blinds weren’t drawn and Timothy could see that it was dark outside. He wasn’t sure how long he’d been there. Minutes? Hours? Days? He just couldn’t tell.
There was the faint sound of distant chanting or singing. Sweet young choral voices.
He remembered that they were taking him to a monastery. A school or a seminary. It was beginning to come back. He went to the closed door. The floor was warm beneath his bare feet. The door wasn’t locked. Outside was a long dark corridor. He remembered the name — St. Andrew’s Evangelical Seminary. That was it.
The priest and his Sunday school teacher and the boy’s mother had been talking about him … making blasphemous plans … they had all been naked together … talking about sex with demons … about the devil … about boys fucking boys … about drinking piss … they had been fornicating in front of him. Could it be real, or maybe it was just his overactive imagination getting the best of him? What a strange sexual dream, he’d experienced. He secretly wished it to be true.
Timothy found a stained thin tunic. It smelt of spent semen. His penis unconsciously stiffened. He put it on. The tunic barely covered him as it wasn’t really anything more than just two pieces of cloth that covered his front and back and just about covered his stiff little dick. His cock seemed to disobey his conscious thought of not becoming aroused. He felt very horny. He went to the door again and looked down the corridor. He decided to follow the sounds of the chanting … like a choir of young children singing heavenly songs of praise in Latin.
“Sanguis bibimus, corpus edimus … Tolle corpus Satanas … Ave … Sanguis bibimus, corpus edimus …” they sang.
He imagined the seminary to be a godly place. A religiously sacred place where the young would learn all about the all-seeing God Almighty. About God’s laws and the punishments that befell those who trespass … maybe being in the house of God wasn’t such a good idea? … surely they would see through his disguise of decency … they would know his homosexual tendencies … his attraction to other young boys … and just like his parents, they would reject him, scorn him, punish him as the wicked and unworthy boy he was … Timothy wanted to cry, but the sound of the voices seemed to beckon him as the gentle priest’s words … that things would be different from now on; that he’d never be punished for what had transpired …
“Ave … Ave! Ave versus Christus … Ave! Ave versus Christus …Ave! Ave versus Christus …” their young effeminate voices cried.
He came to the top of a stairwell that spiraled downwards into the welcoming darkness … the voices seemed to call to him … to beckon him … he liked the strangeness of the Latin lyrics …
“Ave! Ave versus Christus … Ave Satanas … Satanas … Satanas … Ave Satanas!”
The eerie lyrics were nothing like anything he’d heard in his pious church … he didn’t even know what the crazy Latin words meant … and as he reached the bottom of the staircase, through the open doors he saw a cathedral of glowing lights … of dreamy light in angry shades of red, violet and amber … a huge inverted cross … statues, not of saints, but of sexualized demons … of thousands of black candles and torches burning brightly to illuminate dozens of white bodies …
“Sanguis bibimus, corpus edimus … Ave! Ave versus Christus … Ave Satanas … “
He saw the choir of young white bodies … the naked bodies of long-haired boys masturbating themselves before a huge phallus … praying not to God … or at least, not to the God that Timothy knew … They were praying to the God of Cocks … The God of Sodomites … The God of Unclean Spirits!
Timothy’s mouth went dry … this was so completely crazy … so fucked up … he observed rows of naked young boys, just like him, all masturbating themselves rhythmically … he saw a naked man in a bishop’s miter being masturbated by a young boy … a hermaphroditic mother superior fingering her cunt and rubbing her cock at the same time … and three strange looking nuns leading their perverted choir in their masturbatory prayers, again, they were not like the nuns that Timothy knew … these nuns had open gowns, pentagram tattoos across their small pert breasts, and their fists pounded up and down their iron-rod erections … like succubus nuns with large demon cocks!
He saw the handsome priest. The priest removed his gown. His body seemed to glow. His thin muscular body was covered in beads of sweat. His cock was rampant. So big and hard. The priest lay naked across the dark satanic altar. There was a young boy that Timothy thought he recognized. Was it Mark? It looked a lot like Mark. The young sexy boy straddling the priest’s groin.
He was held by his teacher and the mother of the boy called Peter. The boy cried out to “The God of Sodomites”. He called out to “Satan”. Timothy was unsure if it was in pleasure or pain or both as he began to ride the priest’s enormous cock. The boy was impaled upon it. He groaned and began to slide up and down. Slowly at first, but he got faster and faster … bucking wildly as the choir sang.
“Ave! Ave versus Christus … Ave Satanas … Satanas … Satanas … Ave Satanas!”
Timothy watched as the sodomized boy began to lose control; ejaculating a fountain of boy sperm to the sound of the rhythmic chanting. His expression was one of total ecstasy. Timothy was overcome at such an erotic sight. He’d been unconsciously masturbating while he watched and his throbbing cock dripped with precum. He wished it was him on the altar, riding the priest’s fleshy sword. He was overcome with dark lust … he never thought he’d see Mark again … let alone see him participating in a wild sissy orgy …
Timothy felt weak in the legs as he ejaculated. Semen flew from his cock over the floor in front of him. His orgasm was long and hard. His breathing had become labored and he had to lean against the chapel doorway as he almost fainted in blissful exhaustion.
xxxxx
SEMINARY FOR SISSIES – CHAPTER FOURTEEN (2,622 WORDS)
“That is why God abandoned them to their shameful desires. Even the women turned against the natural way to have sex and instead indulged in sex with each other. And the men, instead of having normal sexual relations with women, burned with lust for each other. Men did shameful things with other men, and as a result of this sin, they suffered within themselves the penalty they deserved.” — Romans, chapter 1, verses 18 to 32.
The Cardinal Angelo Becciu looked directly into the eyes of his adversary, Leonardo Battista, the President of the Council of Cardinals. His unflinching glare had unsettled the President.
For a brief moment, the wicked Cardinal reflected back on the scene that they had recorded of Leonardo and his two boy sex slaves. There had been a few secret cameras embedded in the room, but the one in the ceiling fan above the large circular bed captured the scene vividly. At first, the awkward priest could be clearly seen naked, lying on top of one of the boys. From their movements, it was obvious that he was sodomizing the child beneath him. He bucked wildly and then he rolled upon his back. His face looked flushed and wet with sexual perspiration.
The boy that he’d been sodomizing, began licking and sucking the priest’s dirty flaccid cock. Within a short time, the priest was once again, fully erect. This time it was the other boy that straddled the horny priest and began to ride him; while the first boy knelt over the priest’s upturned face, offering him his semen-filled asshole to suck. The boy began to masturbate as he tongue-kissed his companion as he rode up and down the priest’s cock. The Cardinal had been impressed with the old priest’s stamina. The video made him eager for more perverted pedo sex — there was something so deliciously sinful about fucking children — especially young horny boys.
The Cardinal cleared his throat.
“All I am asking is that you support my proposal to the Pope,” stated the Cardinal plainly. “There is corruption in the Holy City — a diseased darkness that has penetrated its insipid evil into our inner-most-sanctum of our Godly priory. It must be purged. We must root out this malignity.”
The Cardinal stood up. he walked behind where the President was sitting and placed his hand on Leonardo’s shoulder.
“… I want you … to put my name forward to the Pope as the “Confessor” — I want to be given the power to root out this evil … wherever it may lead.”
The President stared straight ahead. He was perspiring profusely. His discomfort was obvious to the Cardinal.
”The Pope will never agree.”
“Yes he will … it just a matter of Scotomisation … they believe what they want to believe … they see evil … and they will see me as the one to deliver them from evil!”
“I don’t think that I can do that,” replied the President, flatly, … “Besides, why wouldn’t I take that role myself?”
”Because, if it were me that was the Confessor,” replied the Cardinal, “I would overlook certain indiscretions. You would be spared. And would, by inference, be vindicated of any wrong-doing by an independent source, Leonardo.”
”Indiscretions?” questioned the President. He sounded agitated by the Cardinal’s claims, “Wrong doing? What wrongdoing?”
“Yes,” smiled the Cardinal, “Well, we do have the videotape of your amorous capers. Leo, May I call you Leo?”
The President looked shocked.
“What video ..”
“That would be the video that showed you with these two pretty young altars boys … I must say that it was quite entertaining really … Suck me! Suck me!” repeated the Cardinal in a mocking tone — mimicking the President in his moment of uncontrollable lust — “And you know, if this got out, the Council of Cardinals would hang you out to dry, Leo … they would probably have you chemically castrated.”
”It was you! You … you … you set me up!”
“Well it isn’t me … with my unholy dick, balls deep, inside that twelve-year-old’s ass, Leo.” The Cardinal snared, “Is it? No! — and sodomy is such an awful sin — especially in high definition video.”
The Cardinal seemed to be enjoying his superior’s unfortunate predicament.
“Eerrr …” The President mumbled speechlessly as he tried to stand, but fumbled like an old cripple.
He looked infirm and unbalanced. He grabbed hold of the back of the chair to support his clumsiness, as he tried not to fall on the floor.
“So, I take that as a … yes! You’ll step down immediately from the Council … name me as your successor … and convince the Pope that it should be me, who should lead the witch hunt to root out all corruption, pedophilia and devil worship … me, who should have unlimited power over this situation … to investigate anyone and everyone that I suspect … and of course, I will overlook your blasphemous antics … and leave you a quiet corner to hide, repent and be thankful that you weren’t delivered up on a plate for excommunication!”
The President hung his head in complete shame. He was beaten.
“It isn’t all bad news … if you do as I say … exactly as I say … there will be perks …”
Leonardo looked up.
“Serve me … and serve my cause … and I may see to it, that you have more young ass than you can imagine.”
xxxxx
The Bishop Paulo Romeo of Firenze and the Mother Superior Santa Maria arrived just after midnight. Both had heard great things about St. Andrew’s Evangelical Seminary. Both were excited to taste the illicit specialties that the Cardinal had, so eloquently, spoken of. Of course, since the successful campaign of his witch hunt, he had arisen to a position where he had instigated many immoral changes in Firenze — where the Brotherhood of The Fallen Ones — now ruled the day, orchestrating many orgies and profane rituals, all dedicated to the worship of Satan.
Sisters Angelina, Emmanuel, and Stacy had prepared a welcoming party … the young students had been gathered in the great hall. Under the flickering candles and burning torches — all were naked and masturbating to the slow rhythm of the temple gong … lines of naked horny boys masturbating before their phallic god … as they began to sing in their prettiest of effeminate voices.
“Sanguis bibimus, corpus edimus … Tolle corpus Satanas … Ave … Sanguis bibimus, corpus edimus …Ave … Ave! Ave versus Christus … Ave! Ave versus Christus …Ave! Ave versus Christus … Ave! Ave versus Christus … Ave Satanas … Satanas … Satanas … Ave Satanas!”
“The blood we drink, the flesh we eat …“ The evil Bishop translated word-for-word, “Raise the body of Satan … Hail … The blood we drink, the flesh we eat … Raise the body of Satan … Hail … Hail! Hail the Antichrist … Hail! Hail the Antichrist … Hail! Hail the Antichrist … Hail Satan … Satan … Hail Satan!”
“Their succulent young voices are so divine,” responded the hermaphroditic Mother Superior.
”And the blissfulness of their young anuses are as tight as a clenched fist,” said the Bishop rubbing his cock in anticipation.
“I want to be drenched in their golden dew,” said the Mother Superior, “And bathe in their fresh semen! Christ be fucked! Just watching them masturbate makes me so hungry for boy turds! They’re driving me crazy with lust … The Cardinal was right … I’ve never felt so fucking horny.” The fist of her right hand clenched tightly around her shecock; the four long bony fingers of her left hand penetrated her slimy vulva.
“This ritual is going to be intense … Father Samuel has promised us a night to remember!”
xxxxx
Timothy returned to the dorm room and collapsed onto the unmade bedding. Whether fatigue or the drugs or something else, it wasn’t clear, but suddenly he felt extremely tired. His limbs felt heavy as he lay face down in the cot.
He wasn’t sure what to think of the sights, sounds, and sensations he had witnessed in the seminary chapel. The satanic orgy. He knew now exactly what the priest had meant … but still struggled to reconcile everything … the whole ritual of devil worship thing … so many young boys … effeminate little cock suckers, just like him … he was not alone … then there was the priest and the bishop taking turns in sodomizing his lover, Mark … the strange cock nuns sodomizing other young sissy boys … the mother superior that was a hermaphrodite; being drenched in boy piss and then the cum bukkake … the urine drinking … the eating of each other’s feces … and the sex with large black dogs. Was it real? Could it have really happened? Did it really happen? Maybe it’s just another strange dream?
He awoke. There was a stream of light that had managed to penetrate between the closed shutters that turned day into night. Timothy wasn’t sure how long he’d been asleep, but the first thing he noticed was, that he wasn’t alone. Besides him, fast asleep, was Mark. His sexy young Mark. He smelt so nice. Timothy couldn’t resist nestled up to Mark’s naked form. He felt the warmth of Mark’s skin against him. It immediately made him horny. Timothy’s cock was hard as iron. As Timothy lay gently touching his arms, shoulders, and chest, he listened to Mark’s breathing.
Timothy wanted to hug him tightly — to press their cocks together. He wanted to kiss him. He wanted to kiss his mouth. Tongue kissed him — like they did in the churchyard. He wanted to suck his cock and taste his cum. The memory of the dark satanic ritual flooded back into his mind. Devil worship. It was kind of scary. All those naked bodies. All their hard little cocks. Everyone was either masturbating themselves, or each other.
Mark stirred. As if on cue with Timothy’s lustful thoughts.
“You’re awake,” said Mark, in a dreamy voice.
”I thought I would never see you again,” replied Timothy.
They kissed. Deeply kissed. Eager tongues pressing into each other’s mouths. Their legs intertwined. Their groins pressed together. Mark’s hand caressed Timothy’s buttocks, pressing their cocks even harder together as they both frotted against each other.
“I want you to fuck me, Timothy,” begged Mark, “I want you to cum inside me now!”
“I saw you … last night … fucking the priest … it was so hot!”
“You saw?”
”Yes, I was kind of freaked out … I mean it was scary … like devil worship … demons, evil, black magick and stuff … those nuns … they … they had cocks, like us, but … but much bigger … and the orgy!”
“Don’t be afraid. You’re with me … you’re safe here … and all that devil worship stuff … it’s kind of hot once you get into it … you’ll see … there all like us, Timothy … all of them … they all love blasphemy, sin, sodomy, cock sucking, ass-licking … Father Samuel will teach you too … we’re gonna have lots of sexy fun together!”
Mark slid down into Timothy’s lap and began sucking his cock. He slipped his middle finger inside his lover’s anus and pressed it to the second knuckle.
“Oh … fuck … that’s … that’s so good,” groaned Timothy.
“Swivel round and do the same to me … at the same time … it’s called a sixty-nine!”
Timothy moved around, so that his face was aligned with Mark’s groin and immediately began to devour Mark’s cock hungrily. He gingerly touched Mark’s anus with his finger, pressing it gently into the boy’s sphincter. Mark groaned and pushed back against Timothy so that his entire finger was now inside Mark’s rectum.
“Mmmm … that feels so good … not as nice as your cock will feel when you breed me for Satan!”
“Breed you? For Satan?”
“Yes, yes, yes … that’s what the priest calls it … faggot sex, sissy sodomy is so fucking hot … mmmm … and when you learn to worship Satan, you will discover the most powerful orgasms … they can last up to minutes instead of just seconds!”
The door was open and standing in the doorway was Peter. Timothy looked up. He flinched and immediately felt embarrassed being watched — still conscious of what happened when he was discovered by his Sunday school teacher — memories of his parents and his punishment made his cock go flaccid.
”Timothy … this Peter,” said Mark quietly.
“I see that I am missing all the fun!” replied Peter.
Peter removed his stained tunic and climbed naked onto the bed. His cock was already fully erect and wet-tipped with pearls of boy precum. His appetite for perverted sex was never sated.
“A threesome?”
Peter sucked Timothy’s nipple and stroked the sensitive skin of Timothy’s darkly wrinkled scrotum, teasing his prick back to life … back to its hardness.
“See, three cocks are better than just two!” said Peter as he began to stroke Timothy’s cock in his tightly clenched fist.
Timothy noticed how Peter wore make-up. Dark eye shadow gave him an Egyptian Queen appearance. His silky long hair cascaded over his shoulders. His lips were crimson red with lipstick.
“Isn’t Timothy pretty?” Asked Mark.
”Yes he is,” answered Peter, his little pink tongue licked his painted lips.
Peter leaned forward and kissed Timothy gently on the lips. Timothy hesitated to kiss another boy in front of Mark. But Peter was insistent and placed his hand behind Timothy’s neck, steering his open mouth over his own, plunging his tongue into Timothy’s reluctant mouth.
Peter tasted different from Mark. He tasted of cock. The lipstick made his mouth dryer, but inside his mouth was full of saliva. Timothy felt so horny. His cock pulsed in Peter’s tight sexy grip. Mark joined their sissy kiss. First, he kissed Timothy and then Peter. They all pressed their lips and tongues together — wringing like snakes.
“He saw us last night, Peter. In the chapel of sin. Timmy saw us worshiping Satan with the nuns.”
“And what did you think about that Timmy?” Peter asked Timothy.
“Does Satan allow us to do this?” asked Timothy as he played with Peter’s long girlie hair.
”Oh yes, Timmy, Satan encourages us to fuck and suck … not just each other … but He wants us to pleasure all the priests and nuns … to corrupt the innocent ones … to abuse those who refuse to worship Him!”
Peter pressed the shafts of their cocks together, gripping both Timothy’s and his own, wanking them up and down in the oily wetness of their combined precum.
“Aaarghhhhhh …” groaned Timothy.
“Will you worship Satan with us?” asked Mark nervously.
The pleasure was driving Timothy closer to ejaculation.
“Won’t we be punished by God?” asked Timothy, gasping for breath.
”Fuck God. Fuck Jesus Christ. Fuck the Holy Spirit!” replied Peter.
“Don’t make him cum … Peter … I want Timmy to fuck me now … I want him inside me … help him fuck me, please!” begged Mark as he got on his hands and knees in front of Timothy.
Peter grinned and released Timothy’s cock from his grip. Peter moved to let Timothy press himself against Mark’s behind. Timothy’s hands gently rested upon Mark’s buttocks and his finger stroked down the furrow of his darkly shit-stained anus. Mark shivered in arousal as Timothy rubbed the tip of his cock against his lover’s oily little sphincter. Peter slipped behind Timothy, sandwiching him between him and Mark. He kissed Timothy’s neck, licking at the boy’s salty sexual sweat. He nibbled at Timothy’s ear. Peter rubbed his cock against Timothy’s rear, pushing him forward so that he sank the first inch of Timothy’s cock inside Mark’s nasty shit hole.
“Oh, yes!” exclaimed Mark, feeling Timothy’s imminent penetration. He’d wanted this for so long.
“Aaaaarghhhhh … mmmm … Arghhh …” Timothy gasped with excitement.
The muscles around Mark’s sphincter seemed to instantly tighten around his sissy cock, pulling him deeper inside Mark’s filthy bowels.
“Do you accept Satan as your God? Will you worship him through sodomy? Say Ave Satanas, if you do.”
“Aarghhhhh .. Yes. Oh Yes! Through sodomy. Ave Satanas! Ave Satanas! Ave Satanas!”
xxxxx
SEMINARY FOR SISSIES – CHAPTER FIFTEEN (2,691 WORDS)
“Now we know that the law is good, if one uses it lawfully, understanding this, that the law is not laid down for the just but for the lawless and disobedient, for the ungodly and sinners, for the unholy and profane, for those who strike their fathers and mothers, for murderers, the sexually immoral, men who practice homosexuality, enslavers, liars, perjurers, and whatever else is contrary to sound doctrine.” — Timothy, chapter 1, verses 8 to 10.
“And don’t forget Sodom and Gomorrah and their neighboring towns, which were filled with immorality and every kind of sexual perversion. Those cities were destroyed by fire and serve as a warning of the eternal fire of God’s judgment.” — Jude, chapter 1, verse 7.
Cardinal Angelo Becciu was elated with his audience with the Pope. It had all happened so fast. But that was all to his advance. The President had done his bidding and now it was up the Cardinal to take it from there. The Pope had been somewhat reluctant. But the Cardinal had been very persuasive.
“Your Excellency … every day, the sickness grows. It is a surge upon our beliefs. It mocks us. But, who can you truly trust? There are perverts and devil worshippers everywhere … hiding in plain sight … so bold … even within these own Holy walls.”
”Yes, the President was very concerned,” replied the Pope, “He has strongly recommended that we take immediate action. We need a champion of change. A ‘Confessor’ with sweeping powers. That you, Cardinal, could be that champion?”
“Your. Excellency, it would be my honor to serve the true God. I would dedicate myself to this task … and not stop until all the wickedness had been exposed.”
“Excellent. And you will report only to me.”
“Of course,” replied the Cardinal.
His cock was stiff below his ceremonial gown with the wicked thoughts of how I would use this situation to bring forth the birth of the Black Pope … A Pope, not dedicated to the Abrahamic God … but a Pope that sat at the head of the satanic table … that dispelled all hope and goodness … that oversaw ritual murder and rape and human sacrifices … with endless orgies dedicated to Hell’s sexual demons.
“And you would grant me the sweeping powers to excommunicate all those who would try to subjugate our cause?” asked the Cardinal, emboldened by his own bravado.
“Bring all matters to me,” replied the Pope, “I will want to have the last word.”
”But you are such a busy man, your Excellency,” responded the Cardinal, slightly disappointed in this turn of events.
”This is a grave matter. If we have priests unworthy of their station … I should preside over their fate … don’t you agree?”
The Cardinal was not happy, but he disguised his disappointment well. He imagined slitting the Pope’s throat and pissing over his corpse.
“With the greatest of respect, your Excellency,” he spoke slowly, “This will be a difficult task … your dog must have teeth … otherwise, I am afraid that I maybe ineffectual?”
The Pope seemed reflective.
“I see your point,” he answered, “You may proceed with your task as our “Confessor” … I want to see an end to the way we have been portrayed in the press, as soft on these priests who have committed all manner of deviant behaviors and have gotten away with it.”
”Your Excellency … it is much worse than just individual perversions … more than just some buggery and sexual abuse … I see those who call themselves guardians of the faith, yet they secretly meet and conduct devil worship, black magick, witchcraft, paganism and use occult practices. I know of incidents of human sacrifice … they call it ‘The goat with no horns’ … As we speak, these dark and wicked shadows move against us and all that we stand for.”
The Pope looked uncomfortable. Maybe even angry.
“I need the power to take the broom and sweep everything clean,” insisted the Cardinal.
“This is somewhat unprecedented … but …”
“I need the power to accuse and root out anyone and everyone that doesn’t belong … no matter how high it takes me … nobody should be beyond reproach!”
xxxxx
Leonardo had never been inside the private residence of the Cardinal. He was immediately hit with the opulence of his subordinate’s accommodation. It was plush and excessive. It shocked him — in comparison to his own pious and minimalist living standard — but after all that had happened and as the balance of power had shifted significantly between the two of them, he found himself at the Cardinal’s mercy.
“Leo,” said the Cardinal, “Thank you for coming. I wanted to thank you personally for your recommendation.”
The Cardinal was being rather theatrical about it — the fact was, that the President had no choice as he was blackmailed into it — regardless of that, the Cardinal seemed to be genuinely grateful.
“Cardinal,” said the President, “I have held up my end of the bargain …”
He wanted it to be over. He would go quietly. No point in fighting this. There was no other way out.
The Cardinal paused and looked towards the large golden cross with the twisted and naked body of Jesus. It was an unusual depiction of The Savor whilst crucified as clearly showed his penis in a completely erect state. This sexualization of Christ was of course blasphemous and obscene; as were all the artworks that he had amassed in his private collection.
”And I shall hold up mine. In fact, I think … that we should be friends, you and I … Leo … I think … that your situation is salvageable. Don’t you?”
Now Leonardo was intrigued … what else did this wicked man have in mind?
“You have been a humble servant of the Abrahamic God all your life … groveling and humiliating yourself for what? And after all your troubles … where has it got you? Nowhere. Your soul and body have been at war with each other. Temptation is torment. It has torn you apart. I can see that. Your soul says no … but your body wants lust … dirty, filthy, forbidden lust … it wants to be fucking the warm guts of some young altar boy … sodomizing him until he bleeds … impaling him on your nail-hard dick … you know what I mean … don’t you?”
“Go on…” replied Leo, like he thought he had nothing else to lose.
“What if I offer you the chance to change all of that? What if you could bed as many young altar boys as you wanted? Whenever you wanted. Do anything you wanted to them without any recourse? What if I could promise you that kind of bliss on tap?”
“And how would that be possible? If … if … I wanted it? What’s the catch?”
“Ah, the true skeptic. As I said … the Pope granted me unlimited power to use as I see fit. Do you think I want to rid the Vatican of pedophiles and perverts … when I am one of them myself? No. I intend to get rid of anyone who isn’t like us … anyone who could oppose us … and I say “us” because I am not alone … we are many … we have hidden for so long in the shadows … this is our time now … join us … soon I will be inaugurated as the Black Pope … Satan’s Pope … and as a priest of Satan, your hunger for young boys will not only be sate … but you will no longer need to feel guilt or shame … but you will be vindicated in the light of the true God. The God of Cock. The God of Sodomites … what say you, Leo?”
The large double doors opened. There, in the blasphemously appointed room beyond, was the eight-year-old boy who had been brought by the Bishop of Firenze. The boy was hung completely naked. He was bound against a large wooden St. Andrew’s Cross. Leonardo could hear him sobbing pathetically. A sound that excited Leo in a way that he knew was far from divine. The hung boy looked, at best, only semi-conscious. His previous abuses were obvious with bruises and marks that could have only been made with devices of bondage and sexual torture. His anus was bleeding.
“I was about to slit his throat and have him fed to my dogs, but I thought of you … thought of your sex video … and how you seemed to want to be abusive … but we’re somewhat reluctant or inhibited? Bow down. Bow before the inverted cross. Look upon the naked Cock of Jesus. Pledge your eternal soul to the darkness … take the boy and think of it as a sacrificial offering … beat him and sodomize him before me and show me that you will serve the one true God.”
xxxxx
Peter left Mark and Tim asleep in the cot and quietly dressed.
It was daytime, but inside the Seminary the windows were all covered, artificially creating night. Peter put on his sandals. Outside the dorm, Peter made his way to the stairs and up to the seminary roof garden. The light outside was bright to his nocturnal eyes, but in the garden, the rays of sunshine tried to pierce through the green foliage that canopied above. As Peter emerged from the wrought iron staircase, he found himself under the high glass-domed structure that contained the overgrown roof garden.
The seminary roof garden was alive. It smelt like dirt — like lush greenery — like nature gone wild. The glass seemed to magnify the heat and made the air warm and steamy. It wasn’t like a greenhouse with just some potted plants or a simple shrubbery … the seminary roof garden had huge trees with heavy foliage. The floor was earthen and softly grassed. From the center of the roof garden, you could be tricked into thinking you were in a natural forest.
Peter kicked off his sandals, so he could feel the warm grass and dirt beneath the soles of his little sissy feet and painted toenails as he skipped around.
The seminary roof garden was where they celebrated a number of rituals, one of which was loosely referred to as the “Return to Eden” — where the narrative circled around Adam and Eve fornicated with the evil Serpent. It was, of course, a story of corruption — the greatest fall in the history of mankind — where, the so-called Christian God turned his back on the Children of the Earth; and cast them out of his paradise to fend for themselves. Some say it was because of Lord Satan … but then again, it was Satan who opened their eyes with carnal knowledge, before embracing them as His own.
The rituals in the seminary roof garden were always performed at night. Glowing lights illuminated the huge roof garden, as the naked performers gathered for their performance. It was always a blasphemous ceremony filled with lusty devilment. The sissies took turns to play the various parts in the storyline, much like a perverted nativity play, in which the audience masturbated furiously to their twisted dialogue.
“And the Serpent was the most clever of all of the beasts that the Abrahamic God had made,” said Father Samuel as the Narrator, “For the Serpent in the Garden of Eden was but another embodiment of our great Lord Satan.”
One of the sissy boys with long blond hair acted the part of the demeanor and innocent young Eve; another sissy with shortly cropped hair acted with the pretense of being a little more masculine than Adam (though his femininity was still very obvious). A third boy stood between Adam and Eve, with his thin naked body, painted with the markings of the sexualized Serpent.
“And the Serpent said unto Eve, ‘Eat of the fruit of the Tree of Wisdom, then your eyes shall be opened, and ye shall be as gods, knowing good and evil.’ And with that, Eve was the first to taste the delicious fruit of carnality. And then Adam,” continued the Narrator talking to the loose circle of sissies that sat in their cum-stained tunics. Even though they had all heard the story before, they still hung off of the Narrator’s every word.
The manipulative Serpent offered Eve the ‘Apple of Temptation’. She quickly took a bite. She gave it to Adam, who also took a bite. Suddenly the roof garden lit up with hundreds of tiny sparking lights, like stars in the night sky. There was the ominous sound of distant drumming … beating like the hearts of the lusty audience.
“They both immediately knew that the Serpent was Satan, their one true God. They hated the Abrahamic God who had forsaken them. And they knew that they must worship Satan, offering their orifices to Him, so that they may receive His divine gifts of sinfulness and fornication.”
It had been Peter’s honor to play the role of the crooked Serpent.
Eve and Adam pretended to be afraid of him. They both dramatically cowered and knelt before Satan as the Serpent — both taking turns kissing, licking, and then sucking Peter’s cock. There in the garden, there had been some kind of strange black magick at work — as Peter played the part of the Serpent, his cock appeared much larger, thicker, and longer than its usual little sissy length. In fact, it was so big, that neither the other two sissies, Eve or Adam, could get his cock (in its entirety) into their greedily little mouths. Peter never understood the nature of this black magick … he just accepted it as part of the Seminary’s enchantment.
Eve knelt in front, masturbating Satan’s cock, while her mouth licked and sucked upon His precum-wet cock head. Adam, on the other hand, knelt at Satan’s rear, performing the black kiss of analingus on Satan’s oily asshole. The audience chanted their approval as they all masturbated faster and faster.
“Ave! Ave versus Christus … Ave! Ave versus Christus!” cried someone in the audience.
“And Satan bestows the gifts of sacred urine and the feast of feces, upon the first of his worshipers,” said the Narrator. “Adam and Eve, both devoured these perverted gifts, asking Satan for more, and to sodomize them — so that they may show their devotion to Him as their dark Father; and to Lilith as their dark Mother.”
With that, Peter emptied his bladder over Eve — soaking her face and upper body in his hot, salty piss. Peter grunted loudly and then felt his creamy shit slid from his anus into the waiting mouth of Adam. The sodomy would follow. The orgy would begin. And Father Samuel and the nuns would join the maelstrom of evil sexual flesh.
”Cannot sleep?”
Peter turned to the voice that he recognized as the handsome Father Samuel.
”No Father. I like it here in the garden. It smells of dirty sex and nature.”
”Yes it does,” agreed the priest, “You don’t regret coming to the seminary?”
Peter smiled to himself. Of course, he didn’t regret it.
“My soul belongs to Satan,” he answered.
”All our souls belong to the dark father. You have felt his magick. Here in this garden.”
”Yes, Father. I haven’t always understood it. But it is … enlightening.”
”Enlightening. That’s one way to describe it. Now, tell me, what are your most animalistic of desires?” asked the curious priest.
“I saw that both my mother and that other woman …”
“Stella?”
”Yes, that’s right, Stella and my mom,” replied Peter, “Well, I noticed that they are both pregnant?”
“Very observant, Peter.”
”What’s going to happen … you know … to their babies?”
The priest smiled and sat down on the soft green grass. He beckoned Peter to his side — to sit with him. Peter sat down and the priest began to play with Peter’s stiff little cock.
”Well, it’s highly unlikely that either of them will go to full term.”
“What does that mean, Father?”
“It means that we will perform a late-term abortion on them as an offering to our Lord.”
“You mean you’ll kill the babies?” answered Peter, unsure of himself.
“Exactly. Exciting isn’t it?”
Peter suddenly perked up as the thought of such a wicked deed filled him with joy his rampant little cock began leaking at the very idea of that happening.
xxxxx
The End?
xxxxx
If you have enjoyed this story or would like to offer praise to the author, who is always hungry for encouragement and affirmation, please email xpanther2019@protonmail.com