Exorcised By Sin(1) 🫦🍆💦

Chapter 9

The summoning…

Father Elias’ POV

The Bishop called me at exactly eleven forty-five pm. No pleasantries, no greetings, just an address of the old stone chapel on the edge of the grounds close to the riverbank and three words: “She’s violent tonight.”

I grabbed my keys and dashed outside, ignoring the rain that fell heavily like it was about to tear the earth apart. With this level of rain, one would've believed that human existence was being wiped out.

I drove through the rain that felt like a penance, the wipers smearing my windshield like they were trying hard to erase something. I told myself this was a routine, another afflicted soul needing to be saved, another night of Latin and holy water with a dash of quiet victory in the name of the church.

But my hands shook against the steering. Not from cold, from something unknown.

I had a nagging feeling tonight's exorcism was going to be different.

My headlight danced against the giant gates of the chapel. I was greeted by the security man who was sitting under the broken shed, half hidden in the shadows. I drove closer. The chapel building loomed ahead. I parked beside the big giant cross draped in thick vines and thick layers of dust, staring down like a forgotten sentinel.

The chapel door groaned when I pushed it open. The candles had already been lit up, someone had prepared the space.

The six tall candles were placed around the altar, illuminating shadows that jumped across the stone like they were alive, and there she was.

Sister Mara.

She had already been bound at the wrists and ankles with white silk cords and laid out on the altar like an offering no one should dare accept. Her cloth was torn at the shoulder and hem, her pale flushed skin gaping from the black fabric. Her veil was gone, her dark hair spilled against the stone like spilt ink.

Her eyes… hell itself, flickering with a desperate plea for salvation.

She smiled when she saw me. Slow. Like she knew something I didn't.

Father Elias,” she said with her voice, mostly still hers– soft, melodic. The same voice that used to sing Vespers so beautifully it made the older sisters weep. But beneath that voice, ran something rougher, older and amused. “You came alone. Brave. Or stupid.”

I set the leather case on the pew. Inside were the rite book, a vial of blessed oil, aspergillum and a crucifix. I forced my breathing steady.

“In the name of the Father, I command you to identify yourself.”

She laughed. The sound rolled through the chapel and settled low in my gut.

“You already know who I am, Priest. I've been watching you pray in the dark for years. Watching you stroke yourself under the sheets and whisper ‘forgive me’ when you finish. You think God doesn’t hear those little prayers?”

Heat crawled up against my neck. I shouldn’t have reacted. I shouldn’t have felt anything. But my wear suddenly felt too tight across the shoulder, way too warm.

My fingers fidgeting, I opened the Rite book. “I exorcise thee, unclean spirit–”

She arched, deliberately. The torn dress slid higher, exposing the smooth skin of her stomach, the shadow forming between her thighs revealing no undergarments. Just slick, swollen flesh catching the candle light. She was already wet and dripping, her scent filling the space which hit me.

My mouth went dry.

“Keep reading,” she purred. “The words make me throb. Makes me want to clench around something thick and holy.”

I splashed the holy water across her chest. Droplets rolled down between her breasts, darkening the fabric. She hissed, not out of pain, but from pleasure. Her hips rolled up, seeking friction that wasn’t there.

“Feel that?” She whispered. “I bet your cock is already leaking for me. I can smell it. Salt and guilt and need.”

I clenched my jaw so hard my teeth ached. “Be silent.”

“Make me.”

I stepped closer. Too close. The altar put her at perfect height. When I leaned in to anoint her forehead with oil, her tongue darted out and licked the inside of my palm. Hot. Wet.

I jerked back like I had been burned.

She laughed again. “Run while you still can, Father. But I know you won’t. You’ve been starving for way too long. All those nights in your cell, fingering your rosary instead of your cock. You think I don’t know how many times you’ve imagined bending a sister over the pew and fucking the piety out of her?”

The words landed like blows. Accurate, filthy but true.

I gripped the edge of the altar. “I am here to save your soul.”

“You’re here to fuck it.” She spread her thighs wider, the creaks bounding her creaking. “The only way this demon leaves is if you fill me up till I overflow. Until every drop of your seeds chases me out. That’s the ritual you’re too ashamed to admit exists.”

My pulse hammered up my ears. I could feel myself hardening, my thick, insistent cock pressing against the wool of my cloth like it had a mind of its own.

I tried one last time. Raised the crucifix and recited the strongest command I knew.

She broke the cord on her right wrist with a casual snap, full demon strength. Her hand out, fingers curling into the front of my cloth, yanking me forward till my hips bumped the altar edge.

Our faces were inches apart, her breath smelling of wine, smoke and sin.

“Do it,” she breathed. “Exorcise me with that holy cock, Elias. Save me, ruin me. Pound me over.”

I should have pulled away.

Instead, my free hand shoved her clothing up to her waist, baring her completely. She was soaked, her pussy glistening, swollen and pulsing. A bead of arousal slid down her thigh and dripped onto the altar cloth.

My other hand fumbled at my belt, my cloth parting. My cock sprang freely, already heavy and thick, cum already slicked at the tip.

She moaned at the sight. “Yes, that’s it. Give it to me.”

I positioned myself, feeling the blunt head nudge her entrance which was hot, slick and welcoming.

One thrust.

I pounded deep and brutal, going all the way in.

Her scream echoed off the stone, half agony, half ecstasy. Her walls clamped down like a fist, fluttering, milking and pulling me deeper.

Deeper into sin.

“Forgive me Lord,” I rasped, my voice completely wrecked.

But I didn’t stop.

I couldn’t.