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 they are depicting but they remain at all times adults. All Rights Reserved © 2024 LITTLESALLY666.

STORY CODES: Exorcism, Erotic Horror, Demon Possession, Violence, Incest, Blasphemy, Young Ones, Sodomy, Snuff, Torture, Clergy.

CREATED: 01.04.2024

The Day Of The Lord


I have been recently inspired by a bout of exorcism movies.

The first was a 2020 movie called “The Old Ways” set in a remote part of Veracruz, Mexico. Though it was a “B” grade, I enjoyed its darker moments, especially the scene with the snake and bound protagonist. Of course, if I wrote this scene, I would have done it a lot differently. Brigette Kali Canales is so sexy. I wish there had been nude scenes — I’d love to see her breasts and cunt. It was written by Marcos Gabriel and directed by Christopher Alender. Anyway, “The Old Ways” holds no real surprises, but made me think about writing an exorcism story.

“The Day Of The Lord” is also from 2020. It’s a Spanish movie with English subtitles. It’s a very violent and disturbing film. They say that some of the scenes might even distress a hardened horror fan — but I doubt it. All of the film is shot in the priest’s dark and gloomy house and there is only a thin vein of humor to relieve the bleakness of the proceedings. There were good performances by the key actors Juli Fábregas and Ximena Romo. It’s directed and co-written by Santiago Alvarado.

You can see both of them on Netflix.


Menendez is a former priest, a boy died during an exorcism and he was imprisoned. He drinks whiskey, has nightmares, people appear to him, he speaks to a mysterious person on the phone. It’s difficult to tell his reality from his delusions. A friend he met in prison visits and tells the ex-priest that his preteen daughter, Raquel, is possessed and begs him to perform an exorcism. Eventually, Menendez agrees and the girl arrives at his house. But is she possessed or just an ordinary teenager acting up?


  • Father Menendez — Protagonist, ex-priest, and sometimes, exorcist
  • Sebas — Father Menendez’s friend from prison
  • Raquel — Sebas’s young thirteen-year-old daughter
  • Marisa — A woman whose son died through an exorcism with Father Menendez
  • Lou — Marissa’s dead eleven-year-old son



It was Friday. Father Menendez, an ex-priest, hid in his forgotten church. Nobody came there anymore. He ate a meal from a can. The prison years had been hard on Menendez, now he just wanted to be left alone in this decrepit place.

He still had frequent flashbacks. They filled him with fear and dread. So many of them. He saw the young boy. Sweet and demure. An eleven-year-old son of a woman who had begged him to save him. Save him from a sex demon that had taken hold of his soul. She’d seen him do unspeakable things. Sexual acts. Disgusting and perverted acts. This wasn’t Lou, she’d reasoned. Relucantly, the ex-priest had agreed to help. How could he refuse? Her son needed an exorcism.

Flashbacks. Painful memories of his failure. The priest had tied the naked boy to a chair in the basement of the refectory. He observed the boy’s infestation. The signs of possession. He tried to liberate him. His young body was now all twisted and damaged. Even in death, the boy’s penis was still erect. The demon was gone. But so was the boy.

Father Menendez had consoled his weeping mother. She’d understood. She was grateful to the priest for trying to exorcise the evil spirit and save her son’s soul. He’d got rid of the demon, but at what price? It was too late. The sound of police sirens filled his ears. They would not understand that the boy had to be tortured — the demon’s grip had been too strong — and it cost the boy his life.


Menendez had fallen asleep in the dusty old armchair. His eyes moved back and forth beneath his eyelids in REM sleep. There had been a crackling of laughter. A horrible sound. A demonic sound. The ex-priest opened his eyes. The room had turned red, completely red. He found himself naked and tied to the chair in the basement. He tried to move but the bindings were too strong. But even in fear his penis was erect and throbbing. He saw the naked boy standing before him. It was the reverse of the exorcism.

“Father, let me pleasure you,” it was the deep, gravelly voice, not of a young boy but of the sex demon, “You know you want me. Look at my sexy, young body. My pretty mouth needs your priestly cock. My tight brown flower needs your cock inside of me. Give me what I want. What I need!”

Menendez felt the boy take hold of his erect penis in his small hands. The boy sat on his naked legs and pressed their groins together so that the priest’s cock and the boy’s rubbed directly against each other. Copious amounts of precum leaked from his cock head and across the boy’s tiny fingers. The demon began to firmly stroke the both of them, their cock flesh pressed together, thrusting up and down towards their mutual orgasm.

”Stop! Stop! … ” said the ex-priest weakly, as he succumbed to the unwanted sexual attention.

”See, how it feels to truly worship me. To give into me. You belong to me … Give me your semen … Give me your soul.”

“Aaarghhhhh …” cried the ex-priest, his cum spurting upwards between them.

He awoke abruptly, still sitting in the old armchair. He gasped for breath and looked around. He was alone in the old refectory. Just him. No demon. No boy. Just another horrible nightmare. He squirmed uncomfortably. The insides of his pants were wet and sticky from his forced ejaculation. 


Menendez knelt on old knees before the large wooden crucifix that was affixed to the wall of his refectory. It was one of many in the refectory. The gloomy old house, next to the abandoned church, held many strange and unexplained specters for him — were they nightmares, hallucinations, or visions of things yet to come? They were always terrifying. Guilt. Remorse. Anxiety. His prayer, in Latin, gave him momentary solace for his transgressions.

“Ding-a-ling. Ding-a-ling”

The phone rang persistently. It was one of those old rotary dial-style phones. A relic from the past, like the ex-priest himself, from the seventies. Menendez stood up. He walked over and picked up the receiver.

“Yes. I know. I don’t know what to say. It’s not like I want to. It’s just something that I have no choice about. Yes. Okay. Look, I really don’t want to talk about it.”

Menendez held the phone with one hand and poured himself a large glass of whisky with the other.

“No. I’m not drinking. I stopped ages ago,” he lied, “Look, I cannot talk right now, I’m busy.”

He hung up the phone and swallowed the large glass of whisky in one mouthful. The whisky burned his throat. It was a welcome feeling. It smoothed out the edges. 

Just then, there was a loud knock on the outside of the wrought iron and glass door that led into the yard beyond. A silhouette of a woman appeared in the dull light of the porch.

“I don’t want anything. Go away. Leave me alone!” he called out from behind the frosted glass door.

“Father Menendez. Father, it’s Marissa.”

Recognizing her voice and opened the heavy door.

“It’s Friday, Father. I’ve come to clean up.”

The woman’s face was attractive, but scared and mature. She smiled at him with a sense of real respect and reverence.

He remembered it was Friday. Yes, Marissa came on Fridays to clean up.

“Sorry, I forgot which day of the week it was,” he explained as she stepped into the dull and gloomy interior of the Father’s ramshackle refectory.

“You must get out more, Father.”

“You know how it is with me. Ever since your son died. It has never been the same. It will never be the same. I failed you, Marissa. I failed your son.”

“He is in heaven now, Father. He is with the Lord. The Devil never took his soul, thanks to you. No one understands that. No one knows what truly happened that day.”

Marissa moved to the kitchen and began to busy herself with cleaning up after the tired ex-priest. His kitchen, like him, looked ruined and broken. Even the water in the tap seemed to complain. 

“Leave it. Leave it, please. I don’t need you to come here every Friday. I can look after myself. Really!”

Marissa stopped the chores and stood in front of the sad and broken priest.

“You’re a good man. You saved my son. You went to prison for a crime that never happened. It was the Devil that tried to take him. You saved him. You saved us.”

She tenderly touched his face. She kissed his cheek. She tasted the salt of his tears.

“You don’t have to stay in this awful place. Come and stay with me. You’ll have clean sheets and hot meals every day.”

“I need to be alone, Marissa.”


It was about an hour later that the ex-priest got his second unwanted visitor of the day. There was a loud knocking on the outside of the heavy glass door. Menendez reluctantly answered it, thinking it was Marissa again. But as he opened the door, a bearded man appeared. It was Sebas, his old friend from prison.

“Look at you,” said Sebas, “You look old and frail … where’s that demon-fighting priest I knew from our prison days?”

“Fuck, Sebas. You fucking hairy old bastard.”

The men hugged each other and Sebas invited himself inside.

“What’s this?” Sebas picked up the half-full bottle of whisky.

“What is it, Sebas? You’re not hear to talk about my drunkenness … What’s up?”

Menendez knew his old friend well. Being incarcerated together created a strong bond. He wasn’t the type for socializing. There was a reason for his coming to the refectory. He knew it before Sebas even opened his mouth.

“May I sit down first, at least?” asked Sebas.

Sebas poured himself a drink and swallowed in a single gulp. Menendez gestured towards the old couches. Like everything else in the place, they looked dirty and dusty. They sat down opposite each other and Sebas looked grim.

“I don’t know where to start. It’s my daughter. It’s Raquel. She’s … possessed.”

The ex-priest looked at him as if he’d spoken in a different language.

“Did you hear me? I said, Raquel is possessed by a demon. You got to help me!”

“What are you talking about?” asked the ex-priest, “What makes you believe she’s possessed?”

“It’s everything. She’s disobedient, disrespectful, and delinquent.”

“Like every other child her age.”

“No, Menendez. No. This is different. She’s only thirteen. She’s still a kid, but she acts like she knows it all!”

“Yer, they all do that!”

Sebas put his head in his hands.

“You got to help me. See her. See for yourself. I need your help this time. I know it sounds crazy … but I see things … strange things … that I cannot explain!”

“Try,” said the ex-priest.

”Well, like, I got her a dog. A pet. She loved it. She walked the dog. Looked after the dog … but things changed suddenly … it was horrible … one night, I caught her in the act of having sex with the dog. I cannot unsee something like that. It was unnatural … I saw her with the animal on her back … its knot inside her anus. Her face was a grimace … disgusting … she was panting hard, willing the dog to sodomize her … That wasn’t my daughter. That was a demon. A fucking evil demon!”

“Dear God!”

Sebas signed.

”You must help me,” begged Sebas. He pulls out a knife from his pocket and sticks it to his own neck, “I will kill myself, I tell you.”

The ex-priest jumped.

“What the fuck, man? What are you doing?”

“Help me. Help me. please.”


Menendez lay alone in his bed. He had been trying to sleep, but the words of his prison buddy kept slipping into his mind.

“I caught her in the act of having sex with the dog … with her dog … I saw her with the animal on her back … with the animal on her back … it’s knot inside her anus … inside her anus … her face was a grimace … disgusting … she was panting hard, willing the dog to sodomize her … to sodomize her … ‘

He turned on his back. His penis was hard. He didn’t want to say it — but the thought of his friend’s daughter having anal intercourse with an animal had aroused him. It shouldn’t have. It was an unnatural act. His hand wanted to touch himself. He wanted to masturbate thinking about the girl and the dog. Fucking. Bestial fucking. But these thoughts gave him no rest. He blinked into the gloomy darkness of his bedroom.

Finally, his eyes began to close.

“Father! Call yourself a Man of God. Look at me, you filthy pervert!”

The ex-priest’s eye flew open. The room around him was red, completely red. An attractive naked woman stood over him. She looked down on him while touching herself. She pulled back the sheets, revealing the priest’s naked body. His cock was erect.

“You fucking perverted old priest. Thinking about bestiality. Touching yourself. You fucking old sinner!” she laughed and urinated over the bed sheets — her hot salty piss flowed over his naked groin, and splashed across his stomach, chest, and his face.

“Get out, you whore,” the ex-priest exclaimed, spitting out her urine.

He looked over at the crucifixes on the wall.

“Not until you give me what I want.”

The crucifixes all began to turn … to invert … and then to burst into flames.

Menendez tried to move, but he found that he couldn’t. Paralysis seemed to hold his arms and legs down, hard, against the piss-wet bed sheets. The smell of her urine was strong. The woman crouched over his throbbing erection so that the tip of his cock penetrated her oily, wet cunt.

“Ahhhh … yes, that’s it, you fucking bigot. Sinner. Praise the fucking Lord, you dirty old pervert.”

As she spoke, her body weight descended down the length of the priest’s unwilling cock. She began to rise and fall. Rise and fall. Each time, the ex-priest tried to ignore the waves of euphoric sexual pleasure that coursed through his loins.

“Get off of me, you foul demon!”

The demon laughed.

He closed his eyes trying to rid himself of this mischievous vision.

“Yer, that it! You love fucking my dirty old hole. Anal sex. Sodomy. Faggot priest. Faggot pedophile. Look at me.”

Menendez opened his eyes to see that the demon whore had gone, instead, his cock was buried, balls deep, in the anus of Marissa’s dead son, Lou. Pretty little, Lou. 

“Oh, Father, your cock is so big,” it was still the voice of the sex demon, “Aghhhhh … It hurts so much, Father. You’re hurting me, stop! Father, don’t! Father, don’t stop … DON’T STOP!” cried the miscreant boy as he continued to plunge up and down, in a piston-like motion, as he rode the priest’s turgid cock.

“Arrghhhh …” the priest cried out as he ejaculated into the dead boy’s bowels.

The room turned to black. The ex-priest was alone.

His stomach and chest were covered in sticky semen. His semen.



Menendez knelt on old knees before the large wooden crucifix that was affixed to the wall of his refectory.

“In nómine Pátris, et Fílii, + et Spirítus Sancti. Amen …” (In the Name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Ghost, Amen) …He held the rosary tightly as he prayed in Latin.

Another nightmare. Another horrible vision. When was it ever going to end? He’d not slept that night and now felt the endless weariness in his old bones.

“Adésto ítaquae, Dux invictíssime, pópulo Dei contra irrumpéntes spiritáles nequítias, et fac victóriam …” (Be present, O most invincible leader, to the people of God against the intruding spiritual wickedness, and make them victorious …)

He’d made an effort to clean up the place. He’d sweep and mopped the house through. He made up the spare room. He’d shaved away his untidy facial hair. It made him look more presentable. Maybe it had taken ten years away from his frail old face.

He’d been industrious this morning. He’d taken the remaining dust covers off the furniture — that had been there from before he went to prison. He’d painted a crucifix under the doormat for extra protection. He’d even poured half a bottle of good whisky down the drain. No more drunkenness. 

He had to pull himself together, as he wasn’t sure about Sebas and his preteen daughter, Raquel. It had been years since he’d seen her. She’d been only a toddler before he went to prison.

Sebas had him spooked. The possession thing sounded too far-fetched … and his methods of exorcism were not for the faint-hearted. It would be torturous. He hoped it wouldn’t come to that. A delinquent preteen was not a demon. Even the story about the dog — could have been explained. But, for her sake, he hoped she was just another naughty little girl.

Marissa’s son, Lou, had not survived the exorcism. He’d died in consequence. And whatever spin that Medendez put upon it, it wouldn’t change the fact that her son was gone. She’s been so thankful … so relieved that the demon had failed too. But that didn’t change the outcome for the priest either. He’s paid the price for that mistake. It was murder as far as the police were concerned. They didn’t understand exorcism, nor did the judge or the jury.


There was a loud knocking on the door. Menendez answered it, knowing it was his old friend, Sebas, and his young daughter, Raquel.

“It’s you,” he said, seeing Sebas in front of him.

“Yes. Were you expecting anyone else?” answered Sebas, sarcastically.

“No, not exactly.”

Sebas moved aside so that his reluctant daughter came into view. She was stunningly attractive for her age. Young and pretty, with make-up that made her look older than her years. Upon her head, she wore a pair of red headphones — that seemed to block out her father, the ex-priest, and the rest of the world around her as she stood in her cocoon.

Her long fringe fell to half hid her dark eyes, which seemed to glistened, as she matched Menendez’s measured stare.

Sebas and Requel entered the old refectory.

“This is Raquel,” said Sebas, “This is Father Menendez. He’s my oldest friend. Say hello.”

Raquel continued to chew her gum as she walked in, completely ignoring her father’s request to be cordial. Sebas stepped unsteadily and almost slipped against the doormat.

“Oops! Sorry,” said Sebas, holding onto Menendez for support.

“Sit down, please,” suggested the ex-priest.

Raquel carried herself as if she hadn’t a care in the world. Her attitude said that she didn’t want to be there, but was doing it under duress. Her casual top and denim jacket looked very fashionable, and over her shoulder, she carried a small girlie backpack.

“Take off your headphones,” said Sebas.

Raquel took them off and glared at the two adults as if they had insulted her. A headstrong girl thought the ex-priest, but that didn’t mean that she was possessed.

“Raquel, you’ll be staying with me a while. I hope you understand that your father is very worried about you. He wants us to get along. You understand?”

“Sure,” said Raquel, as she blew a bubble and let it pop.

“Well. I will leave you to it,” said Sebas awkwardly as he stood to leave.

“Right. And I will show Raquel around. So that she’s familiar with the place.”

With that, Sebas was gone, and Menendez and Raquel were alone.

“The kitchen is through there. Let me show you to your bedroom. It’s upstairs. There’s a bathroom next door. Let’s get you all settled in.”

Raquel said nothing. She followed the ex-priest up the stairs and into the spare room that was intended for her stay.

“Well, make yourself at home.”

Menendez noticed her stare uncomfortably at the large crucifix that hung above the bedhead. Once the ex-priest had closed the door, Raquel removed the crucifix from the wall and took out her mobile phone.

“Hey. Yer. Of course, I will be there tonight. Fuck that. I just got to get out of something first. I will be over later.”

She walked over the window, that looked over the yard below. She tried the window latch but it was locked. It wouldn’t open.



“Take a seat,” said the ex-priest.

Raquel sat down, while the priest lit some incense sticks. She didn’t seem to take any notice of the strongly pungent odor.

“I’m not possessed, if that’s what you think?” she said casually, “My father is fucking crazy!”

“Your father is a good man. He’s done a few foolish things in his life. That is how we met. But he cares a lot about you.”

The ex-priest noticed that when she crossed her legs, she wore no underwear beneath her short skirt — that, as she moved, he got flashes of her small hairless vagina.

“How long do I have to be here?” she said, looking very bored.

“Well, that all depends on you.”

“You see, my friends and I are doing this special dance. I want to win a talent show. We need to practice. So when can I get to practice?”

She sat with her legs slightly parted and he could make out the shape of her nipples as they poked against her flimsy top.

“You can practice here.”

“What with some old pervert watching me? Fuck no. I bet you’d love that, wouldn’t you?”

The ex-priest ignored her insults, though he felt the blood flow in his groin. She was certainly a little cock-teaser. But then again, it didn’t mean demonic possession.

”Tell me about your pet … your dog,” asked the priest.

“My father didn’t want me to keep it. He took it away.”

”He said that he caught you having sex with the dog.”

Raquel laughed.

“My dad makes up lots of strange stuff to shock others. It’s a lie. Tell me, do priests have girlfriends?” she asked, “Or aren’t you priest guys allowed?” 

“ I loved a woman once,” replied the ex-priest politely, “But it wasn’t like that.”

“You mean you and her didn’t … you know … do it?”

“No, it wasn’t like that,” replied Menendez.

He did have regrets. I’d wanted more. It hurt to remember. 

“That’s why you’re all messed up in the head,” said Raquel, blowing another bubble, “No outlet, right?”


”Hungry?” asked the ex-priest, trying to change the subject.

“Yes, can I use the bathroom first?”

“Sure, but the old flush system gets stuck sometimes.”

Raquel disappeared in the bathroom. She closed and locked the door.  Digging into her bag, she got out a slightly bent cigarette. She lit it and took a deep drag. She sat down on the toilet and noisily peed.

She tried to flush the toilet, but it didn’t work.

Reappearing downstairs, Raquel gestured towards the bathroom. 

“The flush is not working. It’s just pee. Nothing else.”

“Don’t worry about it. It happens all the time. I can fix it,” replied the ex-priest, as he took out his toolbox.


The girl had been hungry and had eaten heartedly. The ex-priest had watched her every movement closely. Tired after her meal, she’d even taken a short nap on the old couch.

It was dark now. The night was here. She’d awoken. 

“I want to show you my dance,” she said invitingly.

He seemed pleased that she wasn’t being as obnoxious as she’d been earlier. The ex-priest sat on the couch and she positioned her red headphones over his ears and handed him her small digital Walkman.

“I don’t need to hear the music, as I know it off by heart,” she boasted as she moved the coffee table and prepared to do her special dance.

The priest sat back against the couch as the special dance began. The pagan-like music with it rhythmic chanting filled his ears. It was raw and primitive. Like a lot of the modern music that the youngsters listened to, it was throbbing and sensual.

The young sexy girl began to move to the sounds — her movements evoked a lewd sexuality as her hands glided up and down her narrow torso — much like a striptease. She turned her back and slid her top over her head. As she turned around, the priest could see her soft coned-shaped breasts and cherry-red nipples. So hard and so suckable. His cock was hard and throbbing in his pants.

Her hips began to thrust back and forth, imitating the motions of fucking, as she lifted her short shirt to show the ex-priest her wet, little pussy. A hairless pussy. She slid her slender little fingers in and out, masturbating herself in front of him.

Menendez pulled the headphones off.

“I think it’s time for bed.”


Raquel waited naked in her bedroom. She smiled to herself. There was a soft knock on the door and the ex-priest entered. Raquel stood up and Menendez pulled her close to him. He could smell her sexual arousal. She was wet between the leg in anticipation of fucking. She leaned into him.

“I want you,” she groaned teasingly.

They kissed. Sensuously. Urgently. Her tongue filled his mouth. Aggressive. Passionate. Hungry. Eager for more pleasure. Her small immature fingers gripping the priest’s erect penis, through the fabric of his loose robe.

Then, without warning — he head-butted her hard in the face.

Raquel fell silently backward. Unconscious, onto the bed.


She woke some time later. There was the taste of blood in her mouth. She was no longer in the bedroom but tied to a chair in what appeared to be the windowless basement of the refectory. She found herself naked and bound at the wrists to the arms of the chair and by her ankles to the leg of the chair. She looked down at the strange markings on the basement floor — like sigils of a spell — she squirmed against her bindings — but they didn’t budge.


The priest had called Raquel’s father and asked him to come over immediately.

“Are you sure about the possession or am I going crazy?” asked Sebas, “Fuck, this house stinks!”

“I know. All the signs of possession are there. She didn’t even notice the foul stench when I lit the incense. I fed her rotten meat for dinner and she ate it without a word. She had an aversion to the crucifix in her bedroom. I heard her speak in a strange tongue whilst she slept on the couch. The odor of her urine in the toilet was that of the possessed. She even tried to seduce me and bring me to her corrupted bed.”

“So, I wasn’t going crazy. Those eyes. It’s the eyes that told me she was evil,” confessed Sebas.

“I need your help. I cannot do this on my own. Are you sure you want me to do this?” he asked his old friend.

“Yes. I want to save my daughter. How can I help?” asked Sebas.

The priest tore a few particular pages from his Bible.

“Forgive me, Lord,” he apologized, “I need you to recite these throughout the entire exorcism. You must not stop. Whatever you see … whatever you hear. You must keep going, no matter what happens. Do you understand?”

Sebas nodded. It was almost midnight.



Confronted with his daughter’s obvious nudity, Sebas, shrunk back.

Menendez reminded him that it wasn’t his daughter — but a demon that was using his daughter’s body. They needed to be strong. They needed to stick together if they were to triumph over the evil and wickedness of this sexual demon from hell. Menendez suggested that Sebas wear a mask, to conceal his true identity — as the demon would use him against the ex-priest — if the demon knew who he was.

”… A spirit seizes him and he suddenly screams; it throws him into convulsions so that he foams at the mouth. It scarcely ever leaves him and is destroying him …” recited Sebas.

“Óffer nóstras préces in conspéctu Altíssimi, ut cíto antícipent nos misericórdiae Dómini, et apprehéndas dracónem serpéntem antíquum, qui est diábolus et sátanas …” (We offer up our prayers in the presence of the Most High, that the mercy of the Lord may quickly overtake us, and that the old serpent dragon, which is the devil and Satan, may be seized …) prayed Menendez as he held up the crucifix to Raquel.

“Can you please let me go? I’ve done nothing wrong … Please, it hurts being tied up. Please … I won’t tell anyone, I promise … just … just let me go, okay …” pleaded young Raquel.

Her tiny preteen body looked so vulnerable. Her eye socket was bruised badly from the priest’s head butt and it bled, just over her right eye.

“Please let me go … I won’t tell anyone … please … please …”

“I know who you are. If you leave the girl’s body now, you will feel no pain. But if you stay, I will inflict pain as you’ve never experienced it before,” threatened Menendez.

He produced a long cattle prong and waved it around to demonstrate its potential to cause significant agony and physical damage.

“Will you leave her now? It’s Sunday. The day of the Lord! This is your last chance.”

“Please don’t hurt me … You’re crazy … I’m not possessed … You tricked me. I thought you liked me?”

“I know your kind. Evil. Twisted. Perverted. You used sex to lure men into your service.”

“It’s not true … It’s not … I just want to go home … I want to go home … please … ” she cried and pleaded.

Menendez pressed the cattle prong to her left breast. There was the sound of electricity and the smell of burnt flesh. Raquel squealed in absolute agony and urinated involuntarily. Her piss splattered over the floor beneath her chair.

”Will you leave? No more pain. Just leave the girl, now.”

The ex-priest didn’t say anything to Raquel’s father, who had been diligently chanting the prayers given to him. The priest held her face up to his. Looking into her eyes. He hated to admit it, but the process of torture had aroused him. He knew he must not allow that feeling to persist. But his erect penis throbbed beneath his dark gown.

“You raped me!” cried Raquel, “When you thought I was unconscious … you raped me … you’re the one possessed, not me …”

“Lying demon!”

But it hadn’t been a lie. Quite the contrary. He’d undressed her and laid her out on the bed naked. His mouth had closed around her rosy-red nipples, sucking them until they’d become erect. He’d kissed her stomach, her mons, and kisses her vagina. He’d found it moist and open. Her cunt had tasted incredible. He’d licked her tiny clitoris, pushed his tongue into her slit, and then tasted her anus. His cock had never been harder. 

Yes, he’d fucked the little cock-teaser. He fucked her mouth, her cunt, and her ass. It had been incredible. So nubile. So pretty. To deflower her was an experience he couldn’t have refused. Was it wrong? Yes, but she was possessed. She already had a sex demon inside of her. What’s some of his semen spent up her cock-teasing cunt?

Without further provocation, the priest stuck the cattle prong into her mons. Her body bounced upwards in the chair. There was the distinctive cracking sound of the prong meeting soft flesh. Her face was contorted in extreme pain. Precum flowed from the priest’s cock. 

“Stop! Stop!” Yelled her father, as he removed his mask, “Enough. No more,” he cried.

Menendez didn’t wait he shocked her again, and again, and again. He was very close to orgasm.

“No more!” cried her father, who had abandoned the scripture chanting.

“Daddy … oh Daddy … it’s you. Help me … the priest is mad. He’s a rapist … He’s crazy. He’s going to kill me!”

Raquel’s father pushed the priest aside and tore at his daughter’s bindings.

“Stop!” cried Menendez but it was already too late.

The girl got up. She raised her arms and summoned a demonic strength. Both Menendez and Sebas found themselves thrown hard against the basement wall. They both fell to the basement floor, unconscious.

“Pathetic!” it was the voice of a demon.


Menendez lay unconscious. His mind pricked with demonic disquiet.

In his mind, the refectory basement appeared to him, not as it was, but as another hell hole of his subconscious guilt. The walls were red. The floor was red. The ceiling was red. Everything through a lens of the color of his shame. He saw young, sexy Raquel. But he knew that she was only a shell … a host … for something so insidious that it defied his comprehension. 

But there he was, kneeling before it, void of any priestly robes. Naked and excited. Only his crucifix remained in place. He held it up in a pathetic gesture to ward off evil — but he knew it was futile. The demon was too strong. She smiled when she looked at him with her dark eyes. She made him feel incredibly horny … knowing she was possessed by something evil and depraved, only made him want her more. It was as if every wayward thought, trespass, and wrongdoing was on full display … and he didn’t care. 

The demon wore her naked waifish body like a trophy. She slid her hands over herself. Touching herself in a display meant just for him. An evil succubus in the body of a child. He tried to ignore the gnawing sensation in his groin. He was losing the battle. She stood up and held her labia minor apart — it looked obscenely beautiful. That’s when, to his perverted delight, he saw the head of the serpent appear between her legs. Her body began to shake. It was as if the serpent was emerging from within the tiny, young girl … like an enormous cock growing inch by inch from her vagina … outwards and upwards … round-ended, like the crown of a penis with its skin rolled back … clear fluids dripped from the eye in its tip. 

“Yesssssss!” as she spoke, Menendez saw her forked tongue slither in and out of her childish mouth. 

Her delicate fingers curled in his oily hair, gripping him and pulling him closer to her obscene groin with one hand, while the other stroked the veined length of her serpentine phallus. She pressed it to his lips.

”Yessssss … Worship me.” 


Menendez awoke. His head felt as if he’d been hit by a freight train. Sebas was still unconscious. His head lulled as he slumped in the seat next to Menendez. They were both bound to chairs by the arms and legs. They were both naked and completely exposed.

“Well, Father Menendez, you’re certainly full of surprises. You filthy old pervert. Fucking me in all my holes while you thought I was unconscious. I must say, your cock was delicious. And … you delighted me the other night when you fucked me as a young boy. Lou, right? So innocent. Boy sex. Pedophile sex. Don’t lie to me … you old faggot pedophile.”

“You’re the demon. Not me.”

“Serve me …”

“Never,” spat Menendez.

“Serve me and you can fuck as many young boys and girls as you want. My serpent cock will fill your mouth and anus. Bow down to me. Worship me as your god and there is no limit to the perverted sex that you can indulge in. No sexual act I will not grant you!”

“I will never bow down to you.”

As he spoke, Sebas began to gain consciousness.

“What … what happened?”

The demon, who appeared as his naked daughter, laughed at him.

“Oh, Daddy. Daddy, you’ve come to my rescue. My big, strong, Daddy!”

The demon played with herself, as she talked. She stroked the burn marks on her chest and labia, where the ex-priest had prodded her with the cattle prong. Her preteen fingers penetrated herself. Masturbating in front of her two captives — then sucking her soiled fingers provocatively.

“That hurt like a bitch!” the demon said, as he lifted the prong, “But before pain, comes pleasure.”

The naked demon knelt before her father’s chair.

“Oh, Daddy. I love you so much. you’re my hero, Daddy. Let me reward you for letting me go.”

“What … What are you doing?” cried Sebas, as his daughter began to stroke his penis to a state of firm erection.

”Stop this. It’s unnatural,” cried Sebas, weakly.

“That’s it Daddy, Nice and hard for your little girl. Daddy, I want to suck it. Mmmm … I want to taste your incestuous cock. Mmmm … Daddy, you’re so big and hard! I cannot wait to fuck you.”

Sebas tried to resist, but the demon’s expert mouth soon had him bucking in his seat.

‘No, Daddy. Don’t cum in your little girl’s mouth,” the demon laughed, “No, I want your semen in my baby cunt!”

With those words, the demon sat on his lap, so that his cock sank effortlessly into her oily slit.

“Aagghhhh … stop … Raquel … please … this is not natural … stop …”

But it was too late. Sebas could no longer hold back as he pumped his semen into his incestuous daughter’s willing cunt-hole.

With her father spent, the demon climbed off of his lap. Menendez could see her father’s fresh semen running down the inside of her thighs.

“Oh, Father Menendez,” the demon said, “You look so jealous.”

It was true. Menendez’s cock was hard and dripping with precum the entire time, as he watched the demon perform oral and vaginal sex with her own father. Incest was so forbidden.

“How can I make it up to you?” asked the demon as she scooped her father’s semen from her dripping cunt, with her fingers, and sucked them in her mouth, “Mmm … delicious, Daddy cum!” 

The demon picked up the cattle prong and pushed it hard against her father’s genitals. He convulsed and screamed in pain for a moment, before he passed out from the disfiguring torture, and the smell of burnt flesh filled the basement.

“Well, my father will never have sex again. No balls left after that,” laughed the demon, “Let’s see. Who’s next?”

Menendez had used the time to work his wrists free from their restraints. The demon had been so caught up in dealing with Sebas, that she hadn’t noticed. Menendez picked him moment and lunged. The force knocked the demon to the ground and broke the cattle prong in the process.

Getting to his feet he grabbed a heavy monkey wrench and swung it. The blunt end hit Sebas around the back of the head. His body fell lifeless to the floor (still bound to the chair). Now, the priest stood over the sprawling demon girl. He looked down at her, at her tiny tits and cum-dripping, hairless pussy.

She looked up in disbelief at what had just occured. Why?

“Industrial accidents happen all the time,” said the priest.

He held a hand out and helped Raquel to her feet.

“You said, if I chose to worship you, there are no limits …”

The demon smiled uneasily. Was this another of the ex-priest’s tricks? 

“Yes,” the demon replied. 

“I was thinking,” he continued calmly, “In the name of my poor departed friend,” he turned to the dead body of his jail buddy, “And his now, destitute daughter, that I would run a small, private orphanage here — for similarly lost boys and girls — We will name it after your father, Sebas … what do you think?”

The demon looked up at Menendez, as she bit her lip, and nodded. 

“And you will bring me many willing and unwilling young lovers to our bed … Do we have a deal?”



The old phone rang in the refectory lounge.

“Ding-a-ling. Ding-a-ling”

Menendez got up front the table and answered it gruffly.

“Why are you calling me again? I did what had to be done. The girl? Yes, what about her? Her father is gone. It was an industrial accident. I will have to take care of her from now on. I don’t care what you think. No. Just leave us alone.”

Menendez slammed the receiver down. Its cord was still dangling, disconnected from the wall. However, it rang again.

“Ding-a-ling. Ding-a-ling”

“Fuck you,” said the priest to himself, ignoring its persistence.

The phone continued to ring as the ex-priest walked upstairs naked and turgid towards the bedroom.

Raquel lay naked across the sheets of their piss-wet bed. The bedroom stank — of their stale urine and feces — of their sweat and filthy sex. Her hair was cut short and spikey, like a young boy. Her flattish chest was crowned with two cherry-red, erect nipples. She sucked on her fingers which had become slick with slimy vaginal secretions from her masturbatory pleasures. Her anus still dripped with the priest’s semen from their recent sodomy. She looked up at him, mischievously.

“You like it more when I pretend to be that dead boy, … Lou …don’t you?”




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