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: LGBT themes, Incest, WS, Scat, Cohesion, Corruption, Young, NC, Rape, Bondage, Blasphemy, Sadism, Snuff, MC, Black Magic, Devil Worship, Demons, Evil themes

CREATED: 04.05.2014 / REVISITED: 14.09.2023

Priestess 2


The High Priestess is a very spiritual card – often with highly perverted sexual overtones. It can mean that the querent is in a phase where he or she is going to be much more physically attractive to others, open to encounters both heterosexual and homosexual. The High Priestess is tied to the Moon, to femininity, to wantonness, and to the inspiration of new sexual experimentation. Give into the High Priestess in you; let her rule your day and you will find that your narrow and limited viewpoint on sexuality can expand beyond your current desires. What do you want from your sexuality? What have you been missing out or denying yourself? Are you truly who you think you are, or is there a secret pervert longing for the freedom to explore your deepest deviance? The High Priestess is a psycho-sexual religious figure. On one hand, there is divine piousness and abstinence; on the other, there is devilment and sexual obsession … which force rules you?


They say that evil has no substance of its own, but is only the defect, excess, perversion, or corruption of that which has substance. But that is ignorance. Evil has form. Pure evil exists.

The once glorious City of Malum had plummeted into a vessel of extreme inequalities. At one end, violent crime was riff and life was cheap among the cesspool of decay, disparity, and human depravity; at the other, the wealthy, privileged, and religious, lived a life of opulence, over-indulgence, and excess.

Reverend Angela Greenway was one of the religious elite and yet a very popular preacher among the poorer city folks. Her TV gospel, ‘God Talk’, was broadcast over the Internet on a daily basis. The crown jewel of her private empire, the Cathedral of Hope, the home of the Holy Justice Ministry, was a Gothic monstrosity located at the main intersections of the city’s highways.

It appears that the Reverend Angela, by the grace of God, has saved a young woman from a fate worse than death by pulling her soul back from the brink and in the process transformed a satanic priestess into another warrior of the faithful and Holy Justice.

Born into the satanic church, the girl only known to us as Rebecca had had a lifetime of indoctrination in satanic beliefs. Had she completely relinquished the dark powers that she was purported to have? Could she really have moved objects without touching them and moved people against their will?

A suspicious mind may presume the worst that in fact, maybe nobody has been saved at all. Could it be that Reverend Angela, her Ministry, and those they seek to influence for God’s crusade against Satan are the ones in grave danger from this unassuming young woman?


“Put to death, therefore, whatever belongs to your earthly nature: sexual immorality, impurity, lust, evil desires, and greed, which is idolatry. Because of these, the wrath of God is coming. You used to walk in these ways, in the life you once lived. But now you must also rid yourselves of all such things as these: anger, rage, malice, slander, and filthy language from your lips” — Colossians, chapter 3, verses 5-8

It was the beginning of the end. Despite everything that the Holy Justice Ministry set out to achieve, everywhere we went, I felt there was an undercurrent of faithlessness and even dissension. Not all were won over. Even among those dressed in bright red and gold that stood vigil over me, they saw something else in me; something unspoken … something tacit … one of these was a young woman called Ruth. Ruth was betrothed in marriage in the tradition of Reverend Angela’s Holy Justice Ministry; I could tell that she harbored serious doubts about the legitimacy of their Ministry.

It was a quiet evening after prayers. The locals had all gone. Most of the entourage were preparing for rest and private prayers. While I was taking a brisk evening walk, I happened upon Ruth as she was preparing for bed. Dressed in my white vestment and nothing else beneath, I enjoyed the coolness of the evening air. Seeing me walking by her caravan, she beckoned me without trying to draw the attention of others.

“Sister,” called Ruth in a soft and affectionate tone.

“Yes, Ms. Ruth how can I help you?” I asked.

My mind saw glimpses in her mind. The bride-to-be was no longer a virgin.

“Sister, may I talk with you for a while? In the privacy of my caravan?”

“Of course Ms. Ruth. But you know we are never truly alone. The Lord watches over us. For he cares even for the most wayward of his flock,” I replied.

The folks of the entourage always felt comforted by my constant atonement for my past trespasses. I said it now almost as a form of mockery … it gave me a kick!

“Come in Sister Rebecca. Make yourself comfortable. Please, take a seat.”

She pointed to the edge of a neatly folded bed that almost completely filled her small mobile bedroom. She closed the door and locked it behind her.

She too sat down nervously. Her eyes set upon the large wooden crucifix that hung near the bed with the twisted brass body of the near-naked Jesus. She removed her thick spectacles and wiped her eyes. She had a sheepish librarian-type look about her as she brushed away a stray strand of her greasy straight hair. Her sleeveless vestment revealed her thin pale and bony limbs further emphasizing her undernourished appearance. Her translucent white skin gave her the appearance of being puny and vulnerable.

“Sister Rebecca, I don’t know if you are aware, but I am to be wed very soon, in the tradition of the Holy Justice Ministry.”

“Well, congratulations my dear!” I answered.

“Oh yes, thank you, Sister,” she paused, “How can I start to tell you my problem?”

“Start at the beginning. It’s always a good place to start.”

“Well, I am afraid of a secret that I harbor Sister. My husband-to-be believes me to be a virgin … a virgin bride for our wedding night!”

Tears welled up immediately in her eyes. I became aware of the weight of her body against me as I sat next to her and held her hand as she wept quietly as she spoke.

“A secret my dear?” I asked knowing the answer immediately.

“Sister, you see … I am not a virgin. I will not bleed on our first night together.”

I looked at her with the pretense of kindness and understanding eyes as I gently stroked her palms with my fingers.

“I sinned, Sister!” she tried to swallow back the heaviness, accepting the increasing strength of my caress, “I … I sinned, Sister,” she said again with another deep sigh, “Not once … but … many times,” she looked at the crucifix and began to cry, “I know its wrong but I could not stop myself. It was when I sinned that I broke my hymen.”

Ruth looked hopelessly lost caught up in her confession.

“There, there, my dear.”

“What am I going to do? He will know that I have sinned. And then, they will all know. It will be seen as a sham. And then I will be forced to leave, my marriage over … before it has even begun. Oh Sister what am I to do?”

I watched her fidget in her seat next to me. My arm wrapped around her waist as I falsely offered comfort to her. She was weak and vulnerable. I was feeling increasingly horny. My cunt juices were now flowing.

“Ms. Ruth. This is truly a difficult situation.”

Ruth’s head fell against my bra-less chest. Her tears fell upon the thin material of my vestment. My hand guided her face to rest against the obvious hardness of my erect nipples.

“You have sinned against God. Are you saying that you have chosen to sate your need for venereal pleasures over that of the needs of your Lord? You did this, not once, but multiple times, seeking greater and greater degrees of sexual gratification? In doing so you invited wickedness! Be honest with me child!”

“Yes Sister … it’s all true. Oh, the wickedness! I sinned in the full knowledge of my sinfulness.”

“You gave your virginity in return for immoral pleasures. You defiled yourself and your faith!” I scolded her, but my expression of understanding remained constant.

“I did.”

“And what did you use to commit such an awful sin?”

She looked perplexed for a second as my question sank in and then her eyes ascended toward the wooden crucifix hanging low on the caravan wall. Naturally, my gaze followed hers as she blushed with complete humiliation. My cunt throbbed in anticipation.

“I see,” I said.

I reached up and removed the crucifix from the wall. I brought the wooden object closer for my inspection. Ruth gasped as my tongue darted out across the base of the cross, licking around the legs of Jesus and over the wooden surface below … shamelessly tasting a faint trace of her dried vaginal juices.

“Mmmm … Now, show me how you sinned, Ruth.”

I gave her the crucifix and waited.

“Sister? I don’t understand. How will this help me? Doesn’t it disgust you?”

Her words sounded less apprehensive and hinted an excitement to be forced to perform such a lewd act in front of another. I could smell her arousal.

“Show me how you sinned, so that you may be forgiven.”


“Yes, my dear … FORGIVEN!”

She tentatively lifted her vestment and slipped out of her underwear. Opening her dainty legs, slightly at first, she brought the crucifix close to the top of her thighs. Her expression showed me that she was truly conflicted in this act … her hands were visibly trembling, her heart rate accelerating, and sweat beads had formed upon her brow.

I could sense she wanted nothing more at that moment than for me to watch her sacrilegiously plunge the crucifix into her sopping wet cunt … to show me how much carnal pleasure she derived and how beautiful sin could really feel to her — but the confusion of purpose confounded her.

How could this act before me, bring any kind of forgiveness? Sure, it would only compound the matter — showing the true nature of her sinful soul. Why would I want her to commit such a blasphemous act again? Why would I want her to do it in front of me? How could she be truly forgiven? How could it possibly help her regain her virginity, and in her mind’s eye, save her from a fate worse than death?

“SHOW ME NOW!” It was a command, not a request.

Ruth seemed emboldened by the authority in my words and began rubbing the body of Jesus across her erect clitoris and down the wet lips of her labia. She looked so aroused. She desperately wanted to please me, not as a Sister of the Ministry, but as a Priestess of the Church of Satan.


I lifted my own vestment over my head and began fingering myself in front of her. I took my soaking finger, which had been dipped in my cunt juice, and offered it to her. She obediently opened her mouth and sucked on my dirty digit.

Her eyes burned with a new sense of evil intent.

She did not care for this man, she was supposed to be a virgin bride and take as her husband under the traditions of the Ministry … she wanted to fall to her knees before me … to immerse herself in the perverse new pleasure she felt came only from knowingly sinning and worshipping the great Lord Satan. As she sank the first couple of inches of the raw wooden crucifix into her cunt, Ruth groaned loudly and openly as if it was a release from her self-made bondage!

“Sin is divine! Isn’t it my dear?” I asked.

But it was a question not to be answered in words, but to be followed in actions. The young girl groaned as she pushed the crucifix up to the point where Jesus was half buried in cunt. With my right hand, I plunged three fingers to the third knuckle in my red-hot cunt, and with my left, I reached over-pinched her nipples.



My dirty talk only made her pant louder. Her face was flush with orgasmic delight at the sound of my blasphemous words … she was very close to the edge … I needed to extract her soul now … to seal her pact with Satan!

“You could be a virgin again, with your hymen unbroken, until you fuck your husband … YES … I have the power to make that happen.”

“But how … Sister … it’s not possible?”

Ruth panted lingering on the very precipice of Satanic orgasm.

“Yes. But there is a price I must extract from you.”

“Oh God! OH GOD …”

She was now in the full throws of an orgasmic delight that transcended anything she had ever felt before as she plunged the wooden implement back and forth.


“Satan wants your firstborn. You must sacrifice it to him. Suffocate it with your cunt and then drink its blood!”

“YES. YES. YES … I will do it … ANYTHING … please make me a virgin again!”

“Will you honor the pledge to Satan?”

“YES … YES … I will honor my pledge to Satan and willingly give him my firstborn in return!”

“Then seal the pack with his Priestess on this night. We must blaspheme and consummate your future offering with pleasure … MY PLEASURE … lay back now and PLEASURE me with your mouth!”

Ruth did as I instructed. Her lithe body lay motionless across her bed, the large wooden crucifix still stuck out obscenely from between her bony thighs. I stood up above her on the bed and turned to face her legs as I squatted down over her upturned face. I groaned as I felt her mouth brush against my undercarriage and began to lewdly pump my pelvis back and forth as I positioned my hot sticky cunt against her open mouth. Her tongue slid between my open labia, and up into the wet cavern.


I knew her soul was already mine. She would get her wish, and I would get another willing follower. The illusion of her virginity would be nothing more than a suggestion … I would make it seem as if she was still a virgin … her new partner would be tricked by my dark magic. Then later, together we would turn her husband-to-be. His cock would service me. As I squirmed upon her upturned mouth … I could imagine a time when the entire entourage, no longer preached the will of the fucking Ministry, but praised the Lord of Hell instead.

How delightful that would be! I thrust harder against the girl’s face, caring not for any discomfort, but only for the carnal delights of my fifth or sixth orgasm … I seriously had lost count. The gem in the crown would be Angela Greenway herself … preaching to the populace … preaching, not the ways of the Lord, but the ways of Satan – a victory that sent a sharp pleasure signal through the flesh of my cunt, up into the blackness of my corrupt heart and through every fiber of my body … I quivered uncontrollably as I reached my Satanic orgasm!




“And the angels, which kept not their first estate, but left their own habitation, he hath reserved in everlasting chains under darkness unto the judgment of the great day. Even as Sodom and Gomorrha, and the cities about them in like manner, giving themselves over to fornication, and going after strange flesh, are set forth for an example, suffering the vengeance of eternal fire. Likewise, these filthy dreamers defile the flesh, despise dominion, and speak evil of dignities.” — Jude, chapter 1, verses 6-9

Everywhere we went, it felt as if the circus big top had come to town. Come one and all to see the HOLY SHOW … see the Bride of Satan. The bright red and gold entourage visited many small villages and towns along the economically depressed rural belt. Mostly poor and backward places; where people were easily manipulated into ‘God fearing’ followers.

They were quick to adopt the ministry doctrine without question. Reverend Angela’s missionaries were very efficient at recruiting and collecting even the meager of financial contributions to their cause, and I appeared to be the star attraction of their little ‘show and tell’ — the fallen priestess, the so-called Fifth Bride of Satan, the now enlightened fire-starter, saved by angels to fight God’s holy war against evildoers.

Crush those who are free-spirited. Believe or be damned. They were sure that I would turn the ignorant back towards the ‘living Christ’ … from the darkness to the sacred light. But they were all very wrong.

There were those who simply wanted to believe – almost blindly. The missionaries saw halls full of would-be martyrs of the Lord God Almighty … those droll suffragettes marching ever forward. Brother Peter was one of her long-standing and most misguided missionaries. He had been with Angela ‘from the beginning’ and took everything she said as his own personal gospel. I felt a deep affection he had … maybe a deep love of his beloved leader … more so than of his pious God Almighty. I watched him very closely as I felt a danger from his type.

His words were tired, but his sense of showmanship seemed to carry him through this dull routine night after night, town after town, crowd after crowd.

“I am Brother Peter of the Justice Ministry and I am here to tell you all that the antichrist real. He is here in our times! He is alive and he walks among us!” Announced Brother Peter who spoke with utter conviction, quickly playing to their ignorant concerns and whipping the locals up into a frenzy of fear and excitement.

“We hear you, BROTHER Peter!” shouted out an enthusiastic supporter.

“YES … WE ARE WITH YOU!” shouted another.

“He has come to bring a dark and corrupt evil to our villages and towns, corrupting the young with pornography and encouraging their sexual promiscuity. He tempts the weaker ones amongst our flock and proclaims false prophets with unspeakable acts like mixed marriages and fornication between clean white folk and the savages … the Negros, Hispanics, and Asians!”

Brother Peter contorted his face with inner pain and slammed his fist down against the makeshift pulpit.

“Whatever way that the devil can find to kill us, steal from us, and destroy us, you can bet he is interested in. I think most of you will agree that Satan is actively tempting men to commit adultery, fornication, and so forth. Those are sexual-related temptations, and they come from evil spirits.”

“HELP US BROTHER PETER!” yelled an eager supporter.

“Not only does Satan go around tempting or harassing us, but also so does his thousands of demons, for he is not able to be in more than one place at a time. These evil spirits will tempt men and women to commit adultery and fornication.”

“Amen!” someone responded.

“He brings the evil of a homosexual plague and their unclean acts upon us … acts that have for two thousand years been forbidden by holy decree! Brothers and sisters, we must rise up against the devil!”

“Amen!” shouted several of the audience.

“We must suppress the niggers and other inferior races! We must have zero tolerance towards those who transgress! The molesters, fornicators, homos, and adulterers must be weeded out! Those who sin must be punished and turned towards the light, so that they may be cleansed and join us in our crusade against Satan and the Hordes from Hell!”


“You will hear for yourself shortly … from a former Satanic Priestess. A temptress of the devil who will atone for you all … her sins are many, but be witness that even the most evil can repent … can return to the Lord and bathe in high almighty forgiveness!”

Brother Peter indicated that I should join him at the pulpit.

“Look upon this woman. Look upon her in the light of salvation! Once a harlot of the devil! A slut of Satan!”

He held me tightly against himself, whilst standing behind the tall-sided wooden pulpit. We had done this before… his praise for my transformation from dark to light was always an impressive element of their show. But this time it would be different. This pious fucker would feel the sexual perversity of Sodom and Gomorrah. I willed his blood to fill his loins.

“A slut of S … S … Satan,” he stuttered.

I leaned back against him and felt an unwilling hardness that grew beneath his vestment. The fucker was now completely erect. My hand slipped between us and groped at the fleshy protrusion that now threatened to spear me with its uncontrollable rigidity.

“Once a harlot of the devil! A slut of Satan! Now an angel and a true martyr of our Lord Jesus Christ!”

I held him tightly in my fist. My vice-like grip began to move the torrid flesh back and forth. Copious pre-cum wept from the eye of his cock and lubricated my rapid strokes. His breathing deepened and he began to quiver as he tried to remain outwardly pious, unable to believe his corruption had begun … unable to control his sexual arousal … definitely unable to stop the tidal wave of secretive pleasures that now filled his mind and body.

“The Lord our God … has transformed … this so-called … Priestess of S … S … Satan!”

His usual dominant tone seemed to falter and shake. His erratic breathing became very obvious. As his mind tried to stay on track … to complete his tired old sermon … while his body literally jerked uncontrollably behind me, as I continued to masturbate him in front of his unsuspecting congregation.

I smiled at the young children seated in the front pews of the congregation, as they sat on the edge of their seats, holding the white flowers of purity that was always the tradition for these occasions; their little angelic faces, upturned, as they listened with bated breath on every word of the vacillating priest.

“What my Brother Peter is trying to say is that EVIL is everywhere! It is all-consuming and powerful. But … you have nothing to fear … if you are good, law-abiding citizens of Malum, who observe the natural laws of God Almighty … abstinence IS the only way to avoid HELL! You must not succumb to the evil PLEASURES of fornication!”

With a subtle twist of emphasis, I stirred the crowd, young and old, beyond their subconscious, deep in their minds they could only register the words ‘abstinence is hell’ and the ‘pleasures of fornication’ …

“Hallelujah!” responded the crowd as they all itched for more.

“Behold I have been reborn in the name of the Christ! God be praised! Some say MASTURBATION is safe. But I say it LEADS TO SATAN. Abstinence my friends, only complete abstinence and his pious ways will deliver us from evil I was once nothing more than a slut for FORNICATION! Lost in my own private SIN! A slut for the power and the SATAN’S ecstasy! NOW I am, once again, FREE to live delivered from the evils of SIN!.”

Again the crowd heard … ’MASTURBATION LEADS TO SATAN’ followed by ‘FORNICATION! SIN!’ and ‘SATAN’S ECSTASY! FREE TO SIN!’ …

“Hallelujah!” they screamed back.

They seemed charged with a new energy; a black energy.

“SATAN IS everywhere, THE evil of SEX must be overcome for the grace of GOD” I screamed.”

Below the level of conscious thought, they could only hear the words … ‘SATAN IS THE SEX GOD’…

“Yes! …AH! … AH! …Rejoice! ARGHH! Deliver us from sin! God Almighty… OH! Oh Jesus… ARGHH!” Brother Peter tried to add.

By this time, his eyes had rolled back into his head as I continued to secretly pound his turgid cock beneath his vestment until he was seconds from exploding his testicles uncontrollably unleashing his own SATANIC ECSTASY.

“BROTHER PETER!” cried a woman standing behind the young children close to the front of the pulpit, “BROTHER PETER! WE HEAR YOUR WORDS!”

Brother Peter had reached the edge of sexual release … his mind could only think of it and nothing else … his soul was damned to the raw sexual energy that flowed from my fingers into his wanton organ … I slowed the pace … just to delay the inevitable … I draw my mouth close to his ear … disguising my words from his congregation.

“Tell them Brother Peter … tell them how you love to fuck my wrist and cum for Satan …” I whispered and moved my fingers in slow torment.

“ARGH!” Brother Peter tried to muffle his own screams of approaching ecstasy.

“Tell them that SATAN LIVES and that SIN IS ECSTASY … TELL THEM! TELL THEM NOW … and I shall give you the release you desire …”

“Brothers … Sisters … Arghhhh … SATAN LIVES … Arghhh!” stumbled the hapless Peter.

The congregation saw his eyes rolling and his body swayed in a trance-like state … but none could see his hips dance back and forth in the firm grip of my practiced hand.

Again … I pushed him … “And what about SIN Brother?”


My vice-like grip yanked his foreskin fully back and forth, sending the pleasure signals to release the heavy load that yearned for release from his sweaty sacks … the semen spurted from the tip of his cock, coating the inside of his vestment, as he bucked uncontrollably in the throws of total bliss.

“Hallelujah!” screamed several members of the audience in sub-conscious response to Brother Peter’s blasphemous words.

Hallelujah indeed. Christ be fucked, I thought as the pathetic Peter crumbled next to me in the pulpit.


To be continued …


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