Altar Boy’s Revenge

The rectory was quiet after midnight, but the air hummed with tension. Father Elias had summoned me here under the pretense of “spiritual guidance,” but I knew better. I wasn’t the naive altar boy he remembered from years ago—the one he had tempted with lingering touches and whispered promises during long afternoons polishing the brass candlesticks.

Tonight, I was twenty-three, taller, broader, and burning with years of repressed rage and lust. And I wasn’t coming alone.

I brought her—the girl from the altar, the confessional, the baptismal font. She wore nothing but a long coat, her body still marked with faint bruises from Father Elias’s rough hands. Sister Magdalene followed behind her, habit discarded for a simple black dress that hugged her newly corrupted curves. Both women moved with the dazed, eager obedience of those who had already tasted forbidden fruit and craved more.

Father Elias opened the door, cassock slightly askew, a glass of wine in his hand. His eyes widened when he saw all three of us.

“Marcus?” he said, using my old altar-boy name. Surprise flickered across his face, quickly replaced by that familiar dark hunger as his gaze slid over the two women. “You’ve brought company. How… thoughtful.”

I stepped inside without waiting for invitation, closing the door behind us with a decisive click. “You remember me, Father. The boy you used to watch so closely. The one you teased but never quite touched.”

He set the wine down, a slow smile forming. “You’ve grown. And it seems you’ve been busy corrupting my little lambs.”

The girl and Sister Magdalene stood close together, eyes downcast but bodies already responding—nipples hard against fabric, thighs pressing together.

I grabbed Father Elias by the front of his cassock and shoved him back against the heavy wooden desk in the center of the room. Papers scattered. A crucifix clattered to the floor.

“Tonight, the roles reverse,” I growled. “You’re going to watch while I take what you started. And then… you’re going to beg to join.”

His eyes flashed with a mix of anger and unwilling arousal. “You dare—”

I cut him off by yanking the girl forward and ripping her coat open. She stood naked, pussy already glistening. I bent her over the desk right beside him, her tits pressing against the wood, ass presented high.

“Watch closely, Father,” I said, freeing my thick cock—longer and girthier than his, veined and heavy. “This is what real claiming looks like.”

I slammed into her in one brutal thrust. She cried out, hands scrambling for purchase on the desk as I buried myself to the balls. Her walls clenched around me, still tight from all the previous nights but now trained to take cock like a whore.

I fucked her hard and fast, hips slapping loudly against her ass. The desk creaked under the force. Father Elias couldn’t look away—his cassock tented obviously as he watched my cock disappear repeatedly into her dripping pussy.

“Feel that?” I taunted, reaching around to rub her clit. “She’s soaked for a real man now. Not some priest who hides behind vows.”

The girl moaned loudly, pushing back to meet my thrusts. “Yes—harder, Marcus. Fuck me like he never could.”

Sister Magdalene whimpered beside us, fingers already slipping under her dress to touch herself.

I pulled out of the girl suddenly, cock glistening with her juices, and turned to the nun. “On your knees. Suck me clean.”

She dropped instantly, taking me deep into her throat with practiced hunger, gagging softly as I fucked her face. Father Elias’s breathing grew ragged.

“Jealous, Father?” I mocked. “You started this corruption. Now watch it finish.”

I pulled Sister Magdalene up, bent her over the desk next to the girl, and drove into her soaked cunt from behind. She screamed in pleasure, hands gripping the edge as I railed her with deep, punishing strokes. The two women were side by side now—tits pressed to the wood, asses raised, pussies taking turns swallowing my cock as I switched between them.

Father Elias finally broke. His hand moved to his own cock, stroking through the cassock.

“Beg,” I ordered, still pounding Sister Magdalene.

“Please…” he rasped, voice thick with lust and shame. “Let me taste them. Let me join.”

I laughed darkly and pulled out, cock dripping. “Strip.”

He obeyed faster than I expected, shedding the cassock to reveal his own hard cock—thick but not as imposing as mine. I pushed him into the chair behind the desk.

“Sit. Watch closer.”

I lifted the girl onto his lap, facing away from him, and guided his cock into her pussy. She sank down with a moan, taking him fully. Then I positioned Sister Magdalene on her knees between their legs, forcing her to lick where they joined—tongue flicking over the girl’s clit and Father Elias’s shaft with every bounce.

While he was buried inside her, I moved behind the girl, pressing the head of my cock against her tight asshole.

“No—” Father Elias started, but the girl cut him off with a desperate cry.

“Yes—please, both of you. Fill me.”

I pushed forward slowly, inch by thick inch, stretching her virgin ass open around me. The double penetration made her scream in overwhelming pleasure and pain. Soon I was fully seated, my cock rubbing against Father Elias’s through the thin wall separating her holes.

We found a rhythm—him thrusting up into her pussy while I pounded her ass from behind. Sister Magdalene licked and sucked everything she could reach: clit, balls, the base of both cocks.

The room filled with wet, obscene sounds—skin slapping, moans, gagging, squelching. The girl came first, violently, squirting around Father Elias’s cock as her ass clenched around mine. Her orgasm triggered his; he groaned and pumped her full of cum, hips jerking.

I wasn’t done. I pulled out of her ass and shoved my cock into Sister Magdalene’s mouth, making her taste the girl’s ass and my precum. Then I bent the nun over the desk and fucked her pussy raw while Father Elias recovered, watching.

When I finally felt my own release building, I pulled both women to their knees in front of me and Father Elias.

“Open your mouths. Tongues out.”

They obeyed like good little sluts. I stroked my cock furiously until I exploded—thick, powerful ropes of cum painting their faces, tongues, and tits. Father Elias followed seconds later, adding his load to the mess.

The two women kissed sloppily, sharing the mixed cum, licking it from each other’s skin while we watched.

I looked down at Father Elias, spent and breathing hard.

“Revenge is sweet, isn’t it, Father?” I said. “But this is only the beginning. Tomorrow night, the rectory becomes our playground. And you’re no longer in charge.”

He nodded weakly, eyes glazed with lust and surrender.

The girl and Sister Magdalene looked up at me, faces glazed, bodies trembling.

“Eighty more nights,” I murmured, wiping a streak of cum from the girl’s cheek and feeding it to her. “And every single one will be filthier than the last.”

As the three of them cleaned each other with tongues and fingers, I smiled.

The altar boy had finally taken his revenge.

And the corruption was spreading faster than any prayer could stop.