Author’s Note: This takes place in the same universe as my story titled Open Mic. No need to read that to understand this one—both of them are different permutations on a concept. I hope you enjoy!
The Sermon
Pastor Raymond Bruce stepped up to the podium at the altar. The offering plates had snaked their way through the congregation, and the new young organist had just finished her performance of a medley of hymns. It was time for his weekly sermon.
This week’s bible verses focused on the parable of the Good Samaritan. It was an easy one to sermonize about. Even the lowly can do good deeds, don’t judge someone by how they look...throw in a few personal anecdotes and parables of his own, and it was an easy one to deliver.
Pastor Bruce assembled his papers on the altar, gave one look up at his congregation, took a calming deep breath, and began.
“Good morning everyone, and what a godly morning it is…”
The size of the crowd was the average for this time of year. 10 rows of pews moderately full, and many familiar faces in them. For example, there in the front pew, as always, was Elizabeth Rawling—mid-20s, straight golden hair and a flowing yet modest purple dress, sitting up straight in rapturous and reverent attention. And near the back, Pastor Bruce could spy Andy Ledden, the timid yet fiercely devout and kind adult son of his colleague, Pastor Ledden. Pastor Bruce was happy that his Divine Providence Church had a solid following.
“The Good Samaritan is a phrase that has entered the secular lexicon. Its common usage, however, has obscured the lessons that Jesus’ parable taught us about loving one another…”
As usual, there were also new faces in the crowd. Perhaps friends of church members, people who had lost their way and were seeking spiritual guidance. One new face had stuck out to Pastor Bruce, for several reasons. For one, this man—probably in his 20s, shaggy brown hair—was sitting in the very front row—just a few spots from the center, where Elizabeth was. Typically newcomers were much too shy and intimidated to be so close to the altar. Perhaps even more conspicuous, this man had brought a book with him. His own Bible, Pastor Bruce had assumed, but this was unlike any Bible that he had seen.
“We must first look at the historical context of this parable, as is always wise when studying God’s Word. See, back then, Samaritans were a race of people generally considered second-class, unclean…”
This Bible, if it was one, had a faded leather-looking cover, with a swirling purple and black design on it. And this book looked old, as if a blanket of dust had just been blown off it. The pages were yellow-y and brittle-looking. This man had been intently reading it on and off throughout the service so far, mouthing words to himself. Strangely, he had been doing this even when it was time to sing a hymn, or collect Communion.
“Priests and sadducees, on the other hand, were considered noble, clean, and someone to aspire to. So when Jesus tells his parable, it really was surprising to hear a Samaritan exalted above priests and sadducees…”
The man was doing it right now, for instance. Once Pastor Bruce stepped up and began his sermon, the man had gently opened up his book again—to a page that he must have specifically marked. Only this time, the man was no longer mouthing words. Pastor Bruce could hear him whispering words to himself this time. It was quiet enough that perhaps only Pastor Bruce could hear it while everyone else was focused on his sermon, so he decided to ignore it and press on. It was common enough that people would sometimes pray quietly out loud during the service.
“The lesson here is that goodness exists in all of us, and it is those who choose to convey it in their actions towards others...those are the people who are godly and should be revered, regardless of their station in life…”
Pastor Bruce paused to let his statements sink in. At the same time, the man’s whispering seemed to be louder, and Pastor Bruce felt dizzy for only a moment. At this point, he could tell that the man was not whispering English. Perhaps it was a Bible in another language that he was reading. Or maybe this man believed in speaking in tongues. No one else seemed to be giving him even a sideways glance for his disturbance. Elizabeth, Andy, and everyone else in attendance was still focused on Pastor Bruce. He collected himself and continued.
“We find this sort of message all throughout the Bible. Think of the parable of the woman who donates all of her savings while the rich man only donates some of his. Or think of the lowly in Israel’s society that Jesus made company with—tax collector, lepers, WHORES...”
Pastor Bruce paused again. He hadn’t meant to emphasize that last word and stop, but this man’s whispering was getting quite distracting. It was hard to focus. He looked up and out at his congregation, as a grounding mechanism.
Something seemed different about them, but he couldn’t quite place what. There they were, all dressed in their Sunday best. Men in suits and women in beautifully ornate silk lingerie. Elizabeth was still watching him intently, in her usual sheer purple bra barely containing her tempting breasts, and her matching ornately-patterned panties and purple gartered stockings. Clearly, Andy Ledden in the back couldn’t hear any commotion—otherwise he would have looked up from his shameless ogling of the gorgeous half-naked woman beside him. Pastor Bruce looked back down at his prepared sermon, whose words and letters momentarily seemed like they were swimming around on the page.
“Yes...you see, it is important that we share his love out into the world. We want to share our goodness by making other people feel good....”
That didn’t seem quite right, but maybe it was just because Priest Bruce felt like he had to talk over this man’s chanting. The man had so much authority in his voice, as if he could command reality itself. No one else seemed to be noticing it though—they were either listening intently to Priest Bruce or making out in the pews. Elizabeth was still sitting straight at attention, taking in every word of the sermon, although now her hand had slipped down under her panties, and was making rhythmic circles around her clit. Priest Bruce had clearly lost Andy’s focus, as he was now pawing at the tits of the woman sitting next to them as they shared a passionate kiss. Priest Bruce willfully pushed onward, trying to ignore this newcomer’s chanting and his own shrinking worry that something very very wrong was going on inside his temple.
“We can make people feel good in so many ways, and it is His will that we try them all. A hug, a kiss…”
The words on the page kept swimming around but Priest Bruce momentarily gritted his teeth and soldiered on.
“...A good FUCK.”
There were no gasps in the audience, only moans. And that man’s chanting reaching a crescendo. No one was really paying attention to High Priest Bruce’s sermon, or to the man, they were too busy fondling, kissing, and groping each other. Some men in the congregation had taken out their hard cocks already, while the women were stroking and sucking them and undoing their bras and taking off their panties.
Elizabeth had by now found herself sitting on the hard and hungry cock of the worshipper next to her—still able to watch and listen to Priest Bruce’s sermon if her eyes were not rolling to the back of her head while she groaned in ecstasy. In the back of the room, Priest Bruce could make out that Andy had bent his partner over the pew in front of him and was fucking her hard from behind—punctuating each thrust with a confident and forceful spank of her ass.
“And there are so many ways to fuck, so many ways to make people feel good. Oral, penetration, anal, teasing, spanking, slapping, caressing, submission, dominance...it is all in service to Him.”
The High Priest was trying his best to continue without cumming into the organist’s mouth, who was on her knees and deepthroating his cock underneath the podium. Andy had by now spilled his seed inside his first conquest and had moved on to facefucking another worshipper.
“Our Lord and Savior Satan commands it so that we are vessels for His power…”
The High Priest shifted his weight to get some more pleasurable sensations from his butt plug. Elizabeth had long since lifted her head up to the heavens to scream the Lord’s name in vain as she continued to lose herself grinding on the hard cock inside of her.
“So that we can spread that sinful pleasure to everyone we can, and convert them into His servants…”
The man in the front row had stopped chanting, but The High Priest had not noticed. Nor had anyone else. The entire congregation was engaged in a passionate fuckfest within the temple, as they did every week. They had been moved by the Unholy Spirit so that every cock and every pussy in the room was stimulated.
Andy was rampaging through every slut he could find with his ever-hardening and ever-growing cock. Elizabeth was praying to get baptized in the cum of the men she was sucking and stroking on. The organist eagerly awaited the High Priest’s cum in her throat as she played a medley of Satanic symbols on her clit. Everyone was possessed by pleasure, moaning out their sinfully seductive prayers, which sounded very close to the language that the man had been chanting.
“Go forth, sluts and perverts! Spread your legs and spread Satan’s will! CUM!!”
The entire room filled with animalistic cries of release, moaning a hymn of dark reverie and reaffirming their faith for their one true God. The High Priest finally filled the organist’s mouth with his offering.
The congregation gradually came down from the orgasmic heights that they had just been experiencing. The lustful energy of the room slowly evaporated—each worshipper pleased that their collectively chosen idol was taking that energy to grow in strength, to bless them with the eternal orgy that they were promised once His Will was complete.
Eventually, each member of the temple collected their clothing and left with renewed faith in their new calling, to feed Him each week with their sexual energy and to convert more people into His Will. Before they left, they each lined up to receive their own copies of The Book Of Dark Converting, which were being passed out by the man who had forever changed their lives that Sunday morning.