Ode to Demonic Joy
Chapter 4
The convent’s library offered a good view over the countryside that rolled out beneath the hill the convent stood on. Like many convents and monasteries Our Lady’s Convent had been built in a remote and desolate area. In fact, until a road had been built up to it some half a century earlier the only path leading to the convent had been a narrow sheep-path. From where she was standing by the library’s westernmost window Sister Agnes could still see it winding its way down the hillside like an old scar. Despite the furnace burning in a fireplace at one end of the large room she now stood in she still shivered from the cool morning air. She only hoped that the storage rooms down below her were warmer. Standing beside her was Sister Mary, a stack of notebooks and the old inventory list in her hands. Sister Agnes had decided not to brooch the subject of their experience yesterday with Sister Mary, but rather have them delve into work. Taking Sister Mary by the elbow she steered her from the window and towards the basement door.
“Let’s go to work,” she said more cheerfully than she felt. Our Lady’s Convent, despite its beautiful location and majestic architecture was, somehow, a dreary place, where the spirit never soared. The Order of the Holy Lady was a reclusive one, with strict rules regarding visitors. The order praised solitude and chastity above social guidance or charity. It was a world on to its own, where even time seemed to stay away. Sister Agnes even wondered whether the Lord felt welcome here.
The stairwell down to the basement was damp and Sister Agnes feared for the condition of the relics if the storage rooms were so also. But once she entered she found them arid, yet cold. The storage area was divided into several rooms of various sizes. Most of the relics were on dusty shelves, though some where still in boxes strewn over the floor. Glancing at the inventory list that Sister Mary handed her it took her only a few minutes to figure out the storage arrangements.
The two of them started at the top of the list, relics in the outermost storage rooms, and worked themselves down the list, inching ever deeper into the basement. Sister Agnes uncovered and inspected the items and dictated notes for Sister Mary, compiling a new and updated inventory list. Sister Agnes didn’t spend much time with each object, she would scrutinize the interesting ones later, now she only wanted to get a complete picture of what lay buried here.
Despite the cool air the two nuns soon began to sweat; neither of them was used to much physical exercise and it was a tiring work lifting or shifting the heavier relics. Six hours into their work, with only short breaks for food and prayers, they were deep in the cellar, red-faced from exhaustion.
“This is where the old inventory list ends,” Sister Mary panted.
“Let’s take a break for a moment”, an equally tired Sister Agnes replied.
They sat down on old craters and wiped the sweat from the foreheads. Sister Mary started to rummage in a moldy box while Sister Agnes looked around for anything to catch her eye. The cellar was dark, the flicker from their oil lamps the sole illumination. It was hard enough to guess what lay in the shadows, let alone decipher it as anything of interest. But as she looked around she did notice something amiss.
“All these rooms are rectangular in shape, yet this room is shaped different,” she said. Sister Mary looked up from the box and looked around.
“You’re right,” she said. “It is as if a part of this room is missing.”
“Well, it must be here somewhere. It’s just sealed off. Help me move these craters here.”
The two nuns struggled with a couple of large craters. The craters were much to heavy for the two of them, but they managed to push them aside.
“Look! There’s a door on that wall,” Sister Mary said, pointing.
The wooden door seemed perfectly plain, with no indication of why it was hidden behind some boxes. Sister Agnes approached it, conflicting feelings of apprehension and excitement coursing through her. Sister Mary was hot on her heels, caught up in the moment the same as Sister Agnes.
“Maybe we should talk to the Mother Superior before we investigate what’s behind it?” Sister Mary asked.
“What are we going to tell her? That we found a door? We will investigate it and if we find something out of the ordinary we will report to the abates.” Sister Agnes replied. She knew the sensible thing to do was to talk to the abates first, but her curiosity got the better of her.
Sister Agnes carefully placed her hand on the handle, nudging the door outwards. It wouldn’t budge. She breathed deeply. Perhaps it was locked. But when she pulled a little harder the door suddenly crashed open and if it weren’t for the quick reflexes of Sister Mary she would have fallen right on her ass.
The door opened into a small room, a quarter of the size of the outer rooms. On every wall, except the one with the door on, shelves held a bewildering variety of objects, though most of them were books. Some looked very old. Dust covered every square inch, indicating that no one had entered this room for years, even decades.
Lodging her lamp on nail, Sister Agnes took a book from a shelf and blew the dust off. Opening it at random, she gasped at what she saw. Ink paintings depicting devilish sex. A similar gasp from Sister Mary when she opened herself a book told her that all the books here were on this subject; satanism, black magic and sexual deviances. Sister Agnes shuddered and shut the book she held. The objects in the room other than books were of similar nature. Blood-red candles, glass jars filled with horrid things Sister Agnes didn’t recognize and didn’t want to. Tools that seemed intended to torture and pleasure at the same time.
On the bottom shelf on the wall facing the door sat a small box. On top of it was a small parchment note. Though faded Sister Agnes could still she what it said: Palis Demonica. The writing on the note matched the writing on the old inventory list she’d been scrutinizing all day. Sister Mary noticed the same.
“You think this place was set up by the nun the stories say went mad?” She asked Sister Agnes.
“That, or she stumbled upon this place like we did. And what she found made her mad. In any case, I think we can safely assume this room is the reason the list was never completed.”
“You think we should open the box?” Sister Mary inquired.
“Why not?” Sister Agnes said. She couldn’t say why she said it. Perhaps it was curiosity, wanting to solve the mystery of what happened to her fellow archivist all those decades ago. Or maybe she was curious for something else...
Crouching on either side of the box, Sister Agnes struggled with the lock on the lid while Sister Mary held the box steady. Despite the years since it had last been opened the lock gave way after only a brief struggle; the arid air in the cellar had kept it from rusting shut. Inside the box lay a small, shriveled penis-shaped object. Gingerly, Sister Agnes removed from the box. The object was perhaps 6 inches in length and 2 in diameter. It looked shrunken and unimposing, yet Sister Agnes felt a strange and subtle electrifying sensation in her palm. The object had a weird kind of texture to it, Sister Agnes had thought it was made from wood, but when she touched it with her fingers the outer layers gave way a little bit. It felt like some strange rubber she had never encountered before. If she didn’t know better she could have sworn it felt like living flesh.
“What is it?” Sister Mary whispered, staring at the wizened object.
“I don’t know.”
Sister Agnes squeezed it gently. It felt good. She brought it around to look at it better and as she did so it brushed lightly against her chest. Sister Agnes felt a tingle in her nipples at the touch and shuddered.
“What happened?” Sister Mary asked.
“I... I can’t say,” Sister Agnes replied. She knew there was more to this object than met the eye and that she really should throw it back into the box and lock it away securely. But she wanted to hold it a little longer.
She again pressed the oblong object lightly to her chest and again her nipples tingled. They were now pressing hard against her bra. Sister Agnes really wanted to press the object hard into her breasts, but with great will she brought her hand away. In her struggle to move the object away from her chest she accidentally hit Sister Mary’s chest with it. A soft ‘oh’ escaped her lips and the bewildered look on the girl told Sister Agnes that the object had had the same effects on Sister Mary as herself. In spite of herself, Sister Agnes let her hand linger by the chest of young nun, watching in fascination as her chest began to heave and her face to flush.
“I feel strange, sister,” Sister Mary whispered. Sister Agnes watched in silence, pressing the object into Sister Mary’s breasts the same way she wanted to do to herself moments earlier. Images of the day before of Sister Mary pleasuring herself in the back of the farmer’s truck flashed through her mind, willing her on. Slowly she started to move the object down Sister Mary’s body. Sister Mary just stood there, her eyes closed and mouth half open. As the object inched closer to Sister Mary’s crotch she began to breath harder, her hands clenching and unclenching rapidly. The moment the tip of the object touched the junction between her thighs she thrust her hips forward and let out a small cry. Her orgasm finally brought the reality of the situation home to Sister Agnes and with disgust she threw the object back into the box and slammed the lid close. Sister Mary stood there shaking, tears streaming down her cheeks. Sister Agnes comforted her, then led her out of the room. She sat Sister Mary down on a crater to secure the door. She regretted ever having opened it and cursed her stupidity.
Sister Mary calmed down quickly, but she kept her eyes downcast. Even when Sister Agnes told her that what had transpired hadn’t been her fault, that the evil object had manipulated her feelings, she still felt ashamed of what she had done. After yesterday’s episode on the truck she had vowed that it would never happen again, that she would be stronger, but now, only a day later, her body had betrayed her again. Until now she had always felt confident that she could easily handle the strict rules imposed upon women of the cloth, but now she was beginning to have serious doubts.
Sister Agnes decided to call it a day and the two of them breathed a sigh of relief when they climbed out of the closed confinements of the cellar and out into the setting sun. Sister Agnes was uncomfortably aware of her very wet cunt, squishing as she walked beside the equally flustered Sister Mary. It made her feel unclean, sinful. At evening mass she prayed especially fervently, asking the Lord to grant her strength to fight her filthy temptation now and forever. She repeated the prayer before she climbed into bed that night. She hoped beyond hope that her prayer would be answered because she had a feeling that her resolve would be questioned yet again before not too long.
Chapter 5
That night Sister Agnes dreamt of the cellar. More specifically, she dreamt of the hidden room. She felt as if she was in some strange dreamlike state halfway between sleep and awake. She was aware of herself, her body and her thoughts, even if everything else spoke of being a dream. It was like she had entered someone else’s dream. She saw herself walking through the cellar, her pulse racing. A voice in her head cajoled her onwards, but she couldn’t say if it was her own or not. It felt like someone else, but the voice whispered things only she knew, things buried deep in her mind that she had never told another and was afraid to remember even herself. But the voice knew and it used these repressed memories and guilt-ridden fantasies to excite and tempt her.
The door to the small room stood ajar and a strange light emanated from within. Sister Agnes knew she shouldn’t enter it, but she had no control over her feet. Stepping over the threshold she saw that the source of the eerie light was the box she had opened earlier. The lid was thrown back and a piercing, hurting light streamed from it, casting the walls of the enclosed room in weird, disturbing shadows. Yet the shrunken object—the words demon penis popped into her mind—was clearly visible lying in the box, beckoning her. Only know did Sister Agnes become aware that she was naked, her flushed skin covered in sweat, streaming from her body. She felt an aching need in her chest and loins and the voice in her head urged her to grab the object. Images flashed through her mind of pleasures she had never known, the power the possessor of the demon penis had, and what unspeakable things it could do. She saw herself along with Sister Mary in the chapel, naked, the two of them writhing in each other’s arms embroiled in unholy pleasures. She saw the Mother Superior and other sisters join them, eagerly exploring each other’s bodies with their tongues and fingers. Sister Agnes had never considered herself to be homosexual. She hadn’t even considered herself to be heterosexual, but, like all good nuns should, asexual. She knew the close community found in cloisters could sometimes lead to temptation and sin of the flesh, but she had always considered herself above that. The images flowing through her mind told her otherwise and it confused and scared her; it was like she didn’t know herself anymore. Sister Agnes watched in part horror part lust her trembling hand reaching out, her fingers stiff and outstretched as every nerve on her body longed for the penis, to touch it, hold it, use it. She could already she how the once shrunken object was expanding, flexing its power like a lion waking after a long night sleep. It pulsed and throbbed evilly, eager to once more give and get pleasure.
“No,” someone said. “No, I wont take it!” Only then did Sister Agnes recognize her own voice. The words surprised her. She wanted to take it. She needed to take it.
“No!” her voice said again, this time louder, more assertive. Slowly she became aware of the struggle inside her. She could almost visualize the bitter struggle between her moral believes and her painfully aroused libido. With the awareness came determination. Determination not to give in to her baser instincts. Determination to uphold her religious believes and rigors. She saw her hand hover hesitantly over the demon penis, she couldn’t draw it back, couldn’t move her feet away. But she could do something else. She could wake up.
Drenched in sweat and entangled in the bedcovers from her restless sleep Sister Agnes woke up with a start. It took her a few moments to become aware of her surroundings and slow her breathing down. She clearly remembered her dream—if it was her dream, that is. A wave of unease and nausea swept over her. The dream seemed too real, she couldn’t just discard it as something trivial. Having dealt with the occult and the supernatural for so long, Sister Agnes knew better than that. There was something sinister going on here, and all signs pointed to that hidden room in the cellar. The box and its demonic ingredients were only the top of the iceberg, of that she was sure. There was something else lurking in the shadows, but she didn’t know what and she was afraid to find out. Unless she was careful this could not only jeopardize her own salvation, but the salvation of countless others. Suddenly, she thought of Sister Mary. She had been exposed to the same evil influences.
“Oh, no!” she cried and jumped from the bed. She rushed from her room, not even taking a moment to put on a robe over her nightgown. Running down the corridor, her heart in her throat, she threw herself at the door to Sister Mary’s room. It was empty. The bedcovers were all tangled and the lingering odor of sweat and sexual arousal clung to them. Putting her hand on the mattress, Sister Agnes felt it was still warm—Sister Mary had left only minutes ago.
Sister Agnes could only imagine what horrors the young girl had just went through. Though she herself might not be experienced in the ways of the world, at least she had 15 years more experience than Sister Mary to build up her defenses against the lures of the devil. The strong images that still swam in Sister Agnes’ mind and could easily make her break out in sweat if she let her thoughts linger too long on them—these same images had assaulted poor Sister Mary and overwhelmed her resolve. Helped by the memories from the farmhouse of Sister Mary writhing on the bed having a sexual dream, Sister Agnes could all too easily picture Sister Mary descent from a virtuous sister of the cloth to a beast, lost in the throes of sexual frenzy. She had fought, there was no doubt about that. She had probably prayed and begged for divine help in her hour of need. She would have willed herself to think calming thoughts, serene and righteous. But the vile influences of the demon rod could not be denied, could not be stopped from invading the young mind, there to fertilize and germinate, domineering the imagination and perverting the pure thoughts. Who could say what state Sister Mary was in now, having given in despite her valiant struggle? Perhaps it was not too late to safe her, to turn her back from the road of damnation she had so rudely been forced upon.
Sister Agnes ran from the room, tears running down her cheek as she cursed herself for being so stupid. First, in opening the hidden door and then not to realize what sinister powers could have infested themselves in Sister Mary and herself. The library was pitch dark and she had to slow down unless she wanted to break her neck. Stumbling towards the cellar door she began to doubt whether she was in any condition to tackle what foul forces lay in wait downstairs, having already gotten hold of poor Sister Mary. After all, it was only a few minutes since she herself had just escaped their vile clutches and the images were still vivid in her mind. And her body was nowhere close to the self-control she liked to exert over it. Just as the night before she could clearly feel how aroused she was, her nether regions were on fire, with juices running down her inner thighs. Her nipples stood stiffly, sending electrical shocks through her body each time they rubbed heavily against the course cloth of her nightgown. Hesitating by the door to the cellar she was afraid to go further. She needed assistance. She knew every minute was precious, but she also knew that she was in no state to do anything by herself. Rushing in on her own wouldn’t safe Sister Mary, it would probably just condemn the two of them together. Reluctantly, she turned away from the cellar door and hurried out again. As soon as the moonlight gave her sight again she ran as fast as she could to the nearby apartments of abates Katrina. Pounding her fists on the door, Sister Agnes shouted for her. Fortunately, the Mother Superior was a light sleeper and in moments the door flew open.
“What is it?” she said sternly, obviously not used to late-night visitors. But her demeanor slackened a bit when she saw the state Sister Agnes was in.
“Come in, my poor child,” she said kindly. But Sister Agnes shook her head.
“You have to come with me. I fear Sister Mary may be in trouble in the cellar.”
“In the cellar? What kind of trouble?” abates Katrina inquired, clearly puzzled.
“I can’t explain, just come with me quickly. You must.” Sister Agnes pleaded. There was no time to explain everything, and even if there was, she wasn’t sure how much she wanted to confine in the Mother Superior.
“Well, if you insist, but this is most unusual. And so is your garments, child.” Katrina said in an admonishing tone. Sister Agnes blushed as she noticed how her sweat-drenched nightgown clung to her body. Her nipples were clearly visible and it didn’t require much of an imagination to see the rest.
“I’m sorry, abates”, she stammered. “I had no time to cover myself properly.” The abates herself already had a robe on and, taking a lamp from a shelf beside her door, she waved Sister Agnes to lead on.
The two of them hurried through the library. The lamp the Mother Superior carried didn’t provide much of a light, but it was enough to guide them through the maze of desks and shelves towards the cellar door on the back wall. Sister Agnes hesitated only a moment before pushing the heavy door open and descending the stairs. Once in the cellar she put a finger to her lips and cautiously moved towards the back of the basement where the hidden room was. After going through a few rooms they noticed that the darkness was slowly giving way and soon they noticed a flickering light ahead. The abates put her lamp out and the two of them crept closer. Peering through the doorway to the anteroom to the hidden chamber they saw that the light emanated from the hidden room, but there was no sign of Sister Mary. They slowly inched towards the doorway, Sister Agnes holding the abates firmly by her lower arm, as much for support as from keeping her from rushing ahead.
The hidden room was also empty. As Sister Agnes had known the source of the light was the demon box. But when they got a bit closer she noticed one thing different—the demon penis was not inside the open box. She inhaled sharply—could this mean...? Her train of thought was disrupted when a voice behind them made them jump.
“Ooh, I’m so pleased to she you.” It was unmistakably the voice of Sister Mary, but Sister Agnes noticed it was much more sultry, much more commanding, than before.
Sister Agnes and the abates swiveled, the abates holding the darkened lamp up as for protection. Sister Agnes had prepared herself mentally for what she might she, but the sight startled her as much as it did the Mother Superior. Standing posed before them, one hand arrogantly on her hip, was Sister Mary, stark naked with a coy little smile on her face. But that wasn’t what startled the two older nuns. Sticking out from Sister Mary’s loins was the demon penis, erect and throbbing like a real cock. It had attacked itself above Sister Mary’s wet vagina and was now as much a part of her body as her arms or legs. Sister Mary smiled even wider when she noticed where the stunned nuns were looking. She proudly planted her legs apart and slowly ran her hand from the tip of her enormous cock to its root, then back again. The cock pulsated and a drop of pre-cum leaked from the tip of its head.
“My God!” abates Katrina stammered.
“That’s Goddess, if you don’t mind,” Sister Mary replied and advanced towards them. They were trapped between her and the hidden room.
Chapter 6
Sister Agnes stared in dismay at Sister Mary, but mainly at her huge cock. Unlike the abates, she knew the effects it had. She remembered all too well her lewd behavior earlier, thrusting the then deflated penis at Sister Mary until she had an uncontrollable orgasm. She had only just managed to regain control then, and now that the penis was in full force she feared she could never resist it if came too close. In her state of desperate plight she didn’t have the presence of mind to warn the abates about the evil influences of the demon cock. Too late she saw the Mother Superior step forward, a cross in her upraised right hand, determined to confront the possessed sister.
“No! Don’t go near her.” Sister Agnes screamed, but she could already she the confusion on the Mother Superior’s face as she felt the first signs of arousal the closer she got to Sister Mary. Then abated Katrina visibly shook and again a fierce light of determination shone from her eyes, giving Sister Agnes a renewed hope.
“Be gone, foul creature of Satan. Leave this innocent be and return to the nether regions!” the Mother Superior intoned in a commanding voice. For a moment the cocky smile on Sister Mary’s face flickered in uncertainty. But when she saw Katrina’s hand shake she knew she had the upper ground. She thrust her hips forward in the lewdest manner, her cock pointing like a spear straight at the abates. Katrina felt her resolve diminish as new current of sexual energy coursed through her. She had fought these demons before, but never so strong, and never in the flesh as now. She closed her eyes and a small sigh escaped her mouth. For the briefest moment she contemplated giving in and that was all that Sister Mary needed.
Sister Agnes watched in horror as her former colleague stepped up to the Mother Superior and swiftly punched her hard in the stomach. The abates gasped in pain and Sister Mary took the opportunity to push her hands on the back of Katrina’s head, pushing her down towards her cock. The struggling nun was still gasping for air, tears streaming from her eyes and before she could regain her senses Sister Mary had thrust her cock between Katrina’s lips, the demon cock entering her mouth full force. The Mother Superior tried to pull away, but Sister Mary held her in a vise, with both hands behind Katrina’s head, holding it firmly in place. With a triumphant grin the hermaphrodic former nun started humping the Mother Superior’s mouth, pushing her monster cock almost down into her throat before pulling it back out until the head scraped her teeth, the in again.
Katrina was getting desperate, frantically beating her fists against Sister Mary, that seemed to hardly notice. But the power of the demon cock could not be denied, not when it was in direct contact. The sexual urges that the sight of the cock had awakened in the abates were gradually building up until they were becoming overbearing. She couldn’t hold them back for much longer, her body screamed for relieve and attention. Katrina suddenly realized her hands were no longer trying to push Sister Mary away. She had unconsciously wrapped them around the cock pounding her mouth and the startled abates found herself eagerly slurping on the cock, loving the taste of it more and more by the minute. She had one final prayer pleading for assistance before she gave herself away completely, surrendering to the pleasure of the cock in her mouth. Sister Mary pulled her hands off Katrina’s head, but abates Katrina hardly noticed, all her attention was on gobbling as much as she could of the cock, noisily slurping on the giant rod, her fevered eyes locked on its immense length.
Sister Agnes had taken the opportunity provided by the downfall of the Mother Superior to sneak past them. She had hid herself behind a crater, but she couldn’t keep her head down, she had to watch the spectacle in front of her. Even at a distance of 10 feet she could still feel the powerful pull of the cock, her body was once more on fire. But she wasn’t in near as much turmoil as poor Katrina and these past two days had given her plenty of practice in keeping her lust in check. She could still feel it tug at her deep inside, compelling her to touch herself, to join the fray, but she had it under control.
The same could not be said of abates Katrina. Her cocksucking had finally paid off and Sister Mary was pumping load after load of demon seed down her throat, with the far-gone abates fervently swallowing the cum as fast as she could. A few droplets escaped her lips and dripped down her chin. Sister Mary was also groaning in pleasure, totally lost in the moment. Her cock remained as hard as ever despite the massive orgasm. Slipping the thick cock from the abates mouth, Sister Mary smiled down at the fawning Katrina.
“Stand up, my dear, we’ve just started,” she whispered teasingly and laughed when the abates jumped to her feet like an eager pupil. Where Sister Mary had once been shy she now was bold; where she once had been submissive she was now equally dominant. The once proud Mother Superior was like a clay in Sister Mary’s commanding hands and a curt word from Sister Mary was all it took to send the abates into a frenzied disrobing. In no time she was stark naked. Sister Mary ran her eyes appreciatively down Katrina’s body. The dark exotic skin was mouth-wateringly smooth, the hourglass figure was like that of a woman at least 10 years younger, completed by firm breasts riding high on her chest with pert nipples standing prominently to attention. They were not as large as those that Sister Mary flashed, but they were perfect in every sense.
Sister Mary ran her hands down Katrina’s body, resting her left between the thighs. The abates moaned, grinding her loins into the exploring hand. Her once serene, composed face was now the image of unbridled passion; of lust so intense it hurt and held at bay all other thoughts than those of instant sexual gratification. The fingers dancing in her pussy sent her into never-ending orgasmic throes. She had lost almost all control over her body and she had to grab Sister Mary’s shoulders to keep herself from crumbling to the ground.
“Yes, that’s it, bitch,” Sister Mary whispered into her ear. “You like that, don’t you? You want me to continue?”
“Y... yes, please. Don’t... Don’t stop, please!”
Sister Mary stroked her flailing cock with her lose hand, watching in fascination as the formerly prim abates shrieked with pleasure in total abandonment.
“Turn around and bend over,” she finally said. “I want to do you properly.”
“I’m a virgin,” the abates replied in a small voice, but nevertheless she willingly turned her back to Sister Mary and bent forward, spreading her legs in the process.
“Don’t worry, bitch. I’ll let you keep your virginity... for now.”
Without further ado Sister Mary poised her giant cock between Katrina’s ass cheeks, gently rubbing the tip over her exposed anus, then down to her overflowing cunt, then back again.
“Please! Put it in, I can’t stand it any longer!” Katrina panted, beside herself with lust. Smiling, Sister Mary pushed the head of her cock into the Mother Superior’s ass.
“Yes!” Katrina screamed, pulling her ass cheeks apart with her hands to give Sister Mary better access. ‘Yes, please, put it in deeper,’ she pleaded desperately. Slowly, Sister Mary pushed her cock deeper until half of the twelve inch rod was embedded in Katrina’s bowels. Then she started to thrust in and out, gently at first, but then with more force. Soon, the two women were screaming in unison, climaxing again and again. Even when she came Sister Mary didn’t slow down and slammed even deeper into the abates, aided by the voluminous lubrication provided by her demon seed.
All this time Sister Agnes had watched totally aghast. She was frozen to her spot behind the crater, in part by fear, part shock, part fascination. She could feel still feel her own arousal keenly, but her shame shut out any thoughts of self-pleasure. Not only was she deeply ashamed about her perpetual arousal, but even more that she blamed herself for bringing two sisters into sin and depravity. Watching the culprits go at each other right in front of her didn’t help and she fervently prayed for solution. But there was none, there was nothing she could do to turn her former virtuous sisters from the path to hell they were on. All she could do was make sure she wouldn’t follow them.
The Mother Superior had slipped off Sister Mary’s cock and now lay panting on the floor, looking up at Sister Mary like a puppy at its master.
“I think you are ready for the next leg in your journey, Katrina,” Sister Mary said and looked into the small room in front of her. Abruptly the light changed to deep red and was followed by a foul sulfurous stench. At the edge of hearing cries and moans could be heard, hideous and enticing at the same time. From her vantage point, Sister Agnes could not see into the room and for that she was glad. But she saw what came out of it. Three tentacles writhing and slithering towards the abates, their tips shaped like those on cocks, even leaking demon seed from slits at their ends. The Mother Superior gasped in surprise and delight. The three tentacles wrapped themselves around the abates, one tip plunging into her ass, another into her eager mouth, while the third rubbed itself against her tits. Plunging her into the air, the tentacles made savage love to her. Then, they began to inch back into their foul realm. If the abates even noticed where she was being taken, she didn’t care. All she cared for was having her body pleasured any which way. If one of the tentacles had probed her pussy she would have gladly given up her sacred virginity for one more earth-shattering orgasm. But they didn’t; obviously her virginity was being kept intact for some even fouler creature to take.
The moaning abates disappeared into the red light, moaning and shaking. Sister Mary watched gleefully, stroking her still hard cock.
“One down, plenty to go,” she said, turning on her heel and walking briskly out of the cellar. Sister Agnes lay where she had hid herself in shocked silence. She couldn’t fathom what she had seen, would not believe it. But she had to. She had to stay strong or the convent was lost. Fighting a minion of the evil one frightened her and she didn’t relish it here in an unfamiliar convent. She desperately missed her own, but she brushed her gloomy thoughts away and stood up. She carefully neared the entrance to the hidden room. It was back to normal. She could she the shelves and stack of books like they had been when she and Sister Mary opened the room the first time. Even the demon box was closed, with no sign of the portal into the foul realm that was open only moments ago. Sister Agnes sighed in relief and quickly closed the door. Then she turned and headed out of the cellar herself. She had work to do.