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 No.11620

Church of the Fallen Angel

by Regis



BACK STORY


The discovery by authorities of his predilection for intimacy with youth in his care was inevitable. Father McSweeny had been in the priesthood for more than 30 years, and for much of that time, when parents of a child protested to the Bishop that McSweeny had a taste for intimate contact between his tongue and the genitals of their children, he would be sent on vacation, then when the dust had settled, instead of returning he would be quietly reassigned to another parish in a distant state, where inevitably he would resume his exploration of the sexuality of delightfully immature children.

This was the way of the Catholic Church, protecting its own from the spotlight of public indignation and damaging negative press by simply transplanting the problem. He was seen by the new parishioners to have a varied career, in that he had served under more than a dozen Bishops, and five Archbishops. None of his new parishioners knew that he was simply being transferred to a new location where he had the opportunity to harvest new sexual relationships with children, and in particular, with theirs.

The good Father had also developed a healthy interest in violent pornography, and he had amassed a significant collection of torture photos, drawings and explicit videos of actual torture, some of it extreme, that included some high production-value snuff videos he had confiscated during confession from a couple of his contrite parishioners. He took a year-by-year lease on a bin in a storage facility where he kept his contraband away from the eyes of his Bishop, and could collect the material during free time to enjoy it. He had a folding chair and a battery-driven floor lamp that permitted him to masturbate while enjoying his collection, and there was a slowly growing pool of dry semen on the wooden floor in front of the chair, which he refreshed several times upon each weekly visit.

What he did not know was that when the Archbishop learned of his interest, the videos of beautiful young women being violently sexually abused and then creatively killed had been fed to him. He had no idea that the parishioners who confessed to him of being in the possession of such material were in fact members of a secret organization within the Church. Over the years the wayward Priest was being carefully watched, steered, and some might even say he was being groomed. A group of senior clergy had plans for this exceptional man.

Members of the Church operated a trio of facilities for the production of these high quality videos, one in Naples, one in Warsaw and the third in Buenos Aires. Except for special productions, the women used were Protestants, Muslims or Jews. Commissioned works would “star” a high-class Oriental, Indian or African woman, and for the very special productions a Catholic beauty would be sacrificed.

Because there was power inside, McSweeny installed a heater, a comfortable chair and a TV with a blue ray player so that he could enjoy his outrageous videos without interruption. What did him in with the law was that in a new Parish in Minneapolis Father McSweeny was assigned to teach Communion Class, and while covering the Immaculate Conception, one of the girls asked him to explain the term. Instead, he began his answer with a discussion of ordinary conception. This lead directly to the subject of coitus, which he illustrated in his private quarters by teaching a 12-year-old boy to engage in sexual intercourse with the girl, who was the same age.

The Father made a video of the private session, claiming he would use the material to illustrate his answer should the question come up again in class. He also uploaded it to a private kiddie porn site, which was not protected from download, and it soon became viral on the many short-term public kiddie porn sites. He was indeed fortunate that the parents of the girl did not download or appreciate the value of such material, nor did any of the congregation.

These were sites that came and went, as they were regularly pulled off the net to reappear with a new name and a flourish of small ads on newsgroups directing those interested to the new site before law enforcement could track the posters of the illegal material. Hundreds of servers were used for this purpose, and with passwords and encryption it was virtually impossible for underfunded law enforcement to keep up with the highly illegal and just as highly mobile traffic.

The two 12-year-old children the Priest used in the video on early copulation loved their private sex lesson, and they asked Father McSweeny if they could learn more about coitus and fornication after the next communion class. He taught them about the forbidden forms of sex, such as fellatio, which he demonstrated for both of them, and then asked them to demonstrate with each other their understanding of the lesson. They did so brilliantly. He also recorded and posted videos of these intimate sessions.

He then taught the boy the mysteries of homosexual intercourse. He began by instructing the youngster to mount him, and felt ecstasy when the six-inch thumb-sized erection slid into his unprepared rectum. He encouraged the boy to move as he had with the young girl, who was watching in fascination, and when the lad had deposited his seed deep in his colon, he pulled the boy under him and mounted him in order to return the favor.

The girl was startled at the size of the erect penis of a fully-grown man, and watching him bugger the boy, asked if girls every engaged in anal sex. He explained to her it was a safe way for a couple to avoid pregnancy while not practicing birth control, and mounted her from behind to show her what she could expect when a real man engaged in safe sex with her.

The 12-year-old girl, who had not yet developed breasts or pubic hair, which caused him to believe she was not yet ready to conceive, squealed loudly in delight as the Priest filled her colon with his stout erection, and began pumping vigorously into her, feeling his penis grow as her rectum tightly gripped the base of the stout invading male organ. At that precise moment the Bishop entered the Father’s small suite, responding to the girl’s squeals to see what was wrong.

When the Archbishop learned of the misadventure, he and the Bishop covered it up, as usual, but the girl surprised them all when a few weeks later they discovered she had become pregnant. She confessed to her parents about how her conception had been caused, and they brought suit. They also both changed their minds on the abortion issue. At six weeks the girl “fell ill” and missed a week of school.

During that time she crossed the river to St. Paul, Minnesota, where she and her father visited a brothel, which was well known to the families from across the river in Wisconsin. The Madame there was skilled in solving pregnancy problems for her stable of girls when they arose, and also for people who wanted their personal issues kept safely under the carpet. For Roman Catholics, abortion was a filthy word, but also a fact of life and necessity in the modern world.

Much of the Madame’s business came from the large parish across the river, dealing with problems parents don’t need, often resulting from father-daughter relationships that became far too intimate; problems Catholic families had no legal way to deal with. When young eggs became fertilized, an early termination sometimes appeared to be hardly palatable, but also often only reasonable solution.

With the aid of a deeply inserted knitting needle the Madame induced a natural abortion by a low-tech method proven over the centuries, and collected three thousand dollars for the inconvenience. This was not a professional surgical operation, and less than a week later the girl woke up screaming in the middle of the night. With her mother and father watching, she promptly gave birth to her uterus. She was rushed to hospital, where a skilled surgeon saved her young life. It had been a close call, and authorities were called in.

In the ensuing weeks Father McSweeny was charged, tried and summarily convicted of a sexual misdemeanor causing pregnancy. However, his sentence was relatively light, because it was easily established by medical evidence that the boy, not the Priest, fathered the aborted child. The result was he was penalized by six months incarceration in a prison for people sentenced to less than two years.

Father McSweeny remembered well his introduction to the incredible world of excessive sexual carnage. The Father was first introduced to the special privileges priests gave themselves when at the age of seven he was taken into a secret basement known only to priests under the chancel.

There an elderly priest told him he would teach him the things that happened to bad boys, and that were so much like Hell that only the boy punished could ever know about it, which meant he could never tell a soul, or would go straight to Hell himself.

The priest withdrew from his pants a long slender penis, and reciting his favorite psalms, pulled down the boys pants and shorts, spread his buttocks and spit on the diminutive youth’s pretty little rectum. The old man was going for gold, the golden experience of raping a boy’s virgin rectum.

Before McSweeny could react, the priests penis thrust against his anus, and with a thrust while holding the boy’s little hips, entered him. What happened next was a complete mystery to him, in which the old man of God breathed heavily as he thrust repeatedly, and bellowed out loud, drowning out the screams of his young pupil.

The pain was so great the child believed reasonably that he was now, under the elderly priest’s guidance, experiencing Hell. In the ensuing years the lesson was repeated frequently by several of the priests, sometimes with a group of them taking turns with him, and at others, when the sacraments were broken out, with several boys and several priests.

At the age of 10 McSweeny was invited to become a choirboy, and such a request was not to be refused. Soon afterward the priests noticed he was maturing prematurely, and one of them taught him how to relieve sexual pressure by showing him the art of masturbation. McSweeny produced his first ejaculation into the mouth of the elderly priest who had got him started three years earlier, and soon thereafter he was one of three boys requested for an evening of naughty entertainment by a matronly woman in the congregation who was the wife of a powerful Mafia Boss, Mrs. Philiconi.

The boys were given all day suckers to keep them quiet, and were loaded into the back of a van that already contained half a dozen pretty little seven and eight-year-old girls. The girls wore fancy dresses, and white sox all the way up to their knees. All of the children sat on the van’s carpeted floor, and from that low vantage point could see nothing of where they were being taken.

The girls were silly, and giggled the whole time, making meaningless comments to cover their nervousness. When at last they arrived at their destination and the doors were opened, they saw they were inside the triple-car garage of a large residence. Mrs. Philiconi lead them into the house and up a long wide stairway where they were taken into a large bedroom. A big king-sized bed dominated the room.

The nine children were asked if they had ever learned about sex, and now even the boys giggled. The boys had been taught about Hell, not about sex. Mrs. Philiconi told them that didn’t matter but that for this evening they could be as bad as they wanted, since nobody would ever know, and the people at her party would really like to see them misbehave.

“Did your mommies tell you that some things were very dirty, and must never be done?” she asked them. The children all nodded in the affirmative. She said that for this evening those were now the things they should do, and nobody would ever know.

She promised them they would be rewarded for everything they did they were not normal supposed to do. It was all to be backwards, with the bad and forbidden now being the good things they were expected to do. Everything would be fine, as long as the behaved as badly as they could imagine.

Mrs. Philiconi told the boys she wanted them to take off all their clothes, because their mommies said they should never do that, and to stand up on the bed to show the little girls their little dinks. She said as soon as they did, she would reward them with an ice cream cone. The boys showed no hesitation, but slipped off their clothes until they were naked, and they promptly jumped up on the bed, spread their legs and tugged on their little penises to show them to the little girls, now giggling more than ever.

The boys were each rewarded by being handed a small cone by a younger woman in a low cut dress with a short skirt, and very high heels. “This is Faye, and she’s in charge of the rewards,” Mrs. Philiconi told them. “Girls, I want you to help the boys grow woodies by pulling down your panties and showing them your pee-pee.” The girls blushed, but the lure of the reward was more than they could resist, and all of them did as they were told, following the lead of the precocious little redheaded girl, who had her panties around her ankles as soon as the woman was finished her instructions to them.

A pretty little blonde girl had misunderstood, and spreading her knees, she peed on the carpet. “What a good girl!” the woman said. “Give her two cones!” The other girls stepped out of their panties and promptly followed suit. In minutes the carpet was soggy with warm girl urine. They each received just a single ice cream cone. “Copying doesn’t count,” Mrs. Philiconi said. “You have to do something bad on your own to get more rewards, something so naughty nobody else would dare to do it.” The woman noticed with satisfaction the behavior of the young girls was stimulating the three boys, and their little penises were quickly firming up.

The youngest little girl tore off her clothes and climbed onto the bed. She was on her knees in front of the young McSweeny, and took his stiffening penis into her mouth. “We need woodies on these boys,” the woman said, and the girls promptly pulled off their dresses, shoes and sox. As each got naked she clambered onto the bed, competing to be first to get her eager mouth onto the penis of one of the remaining two boys. In moments all three of the boys were suitably rigid.

“I think you’re all ready,” Mrs. Philiconi said, “It’s time for you all to scramble down the stairs and into the dining room. Follow Faye and she’ll show you where to go.”

Faye led the children down the stairway, and at the bottom turned left. They entered a large room with a very big wooden table covered with a massive white tablecloth. Seated around the table were several couples, and overhead, dangling upside down from her widespread leather chord-bound ankles, was a gorgeous nude young woman, her head four feet above the big table. Her arms were bound tightly behind her back, and her fully displayed vagina was as cleanly hairless as those of the naked little girls who just appeared.

The details of the evening were not all clear in his memory, but Father McSweeny remembered clearly standing nude on the table with the other two boys while the guests were served slender glasses of champagne, and the thrill he had when they he and the other two boys had each been handed whips and were instructed to flail the exposed genitalia of the woman, in a competition to see which of them could draw from her the loudest scream.

The boys eagerly complied, taking turns slashing at her swelling and spreading cunt, excited at being permitted to abandon all restraint, and soon were so excited by the violent unbridled action they abandoned taking turns, and were raising bleeding welts on her entire body. They became so excited that in minutes the three naked boys were spouting urine from their rigid little erections.

The little redheaded girl had been selected as a participant because in confessional she had told a priest she had “experimented” with her older brother, and was no longer a virgin. Faye, who had discarded her tight dress and now wore only an uplifting open-front bra that fully revealed her extended nipples and her excessively high heeled shoes, lifted the redheaded little girl onto the table and placed her on her hands and knees, then instructed the boys to take turns mounting her.

McSweeny let the other two boys go ahead of him, to maximize his enjoyment of their experience, and to learn in case either of them made a mistake. This was all new to the virgin boy, and he was determined to get it right. Because the other two had left the girl’s vagina moist from their ministrations, and knowing he was about to be very bad, McSweeny decided to try pure evil.

He inserted his slender penis into the kneeling girl’s rectum, drawing screams from his little mount and hilarious laughter from their audience. He grimaced as he made his dry entry, painful even for him, but at the same time an outstanding adventure he would repeat often once he began his tenure as a priest.

The girl’s little anus stretched and tightly gripped his penis, attempting to exclude it from entry, and even when he achieved full insertion the little orifice snugly clung to his invading shaft, now grown through his excitement to its full length and rigidity, about the girth and length as a fountain pen. He felt a strange sensation, and quickly realized that with his penis buried in the colon of the kneeling girl, it was pushing along beside a stiff stool, stretching her lower tract to accommodate him.

The strange feeling of sharing her tight interior with her tight brown pack of offal excited him to the point of no return. He promptly thrust in and out of her rapidly, and on instinct suddenly jerked out of her as he began what was his first ejaculation. The 10-year-old boy had matured early, and the stimulation of an anal coupling with the younger girl drove him to a surprising completion of the obscene sexual act. He spurted his semen over her bare back in quantities he would soon surpass, but in a volume that startled his audience.

They had identified in the boy a burgeoning young buck-stud they would utilize many times in the weeks, months and years ahead in their private exploration of child-sexuality. Perhaps, if he had the intellect for it, they could even prepare him for the priesthood, to eventually move in the direction for which he was proving to have ample aptitude.

Curiously, the sex offending Father proved to be quite popular with the other inmates. A conviction as a sex offender, particularly for having sex with a child, would have had him raped and likely killed by the other prisoners, but since, according to evidence given at trial, he had simply given a boy an education, he was not given the label of pedophile. In fact in the first few days in prison he discovered most of the prisoners considered him to be something of a hero, because he had beaten the most damning of the charges he had faced.

The unholy Father was treated as someone special by his fellow inmates, most of them petty thieves, wife abusers and a few who were being held pretrial on violent rape or murder charges. Most of these prisoners had not completed more than elementary school, opting instead for an income from petty crime, and Father McSweeny took the opportunity to increase their education.

A pair of the prison guards earned their way with the inmates by bringing young boys from the Young Offenders Unit on field trips to the prison where they became the tailgate whores of the inmates. Father McSweeny was given his pick of little boys to absorb in their colons his prodigious seed. He taught the others how to do some fancy tricks to enhance the pleasure while his penis was deeply implanted in the rectum of a youth, and this earned him extra respect as a “copulation with minors” expert.

He further amazed them when he talked the guards into bringing for him a 10-year-old girl who was being held in the juvenile detention center for having stabbed her father to death during a failed rape attempt. The other prisoners were startled when he smooth-talked the pretty young girl into actively participating with him in teaching the other young men new techniques for a mature man mating with a very immature female.

The other outcome of Father McSweeny’s transgressions was that the unorthodox Priest was defrocked and excommunicated by the Holy Roman Catholic Church, because he showed no remorse for his infraction of Church law. Any lesser punishment would have spread blame to the Bishop and to the Archbishop for their role in the cover-up.

That was an entirely unacceptable option, one which would have opened a much larger can of worms, a can that for the sake of too many powerful parishioners was required to remain firmly closed. Such an outcome could never be contemplated. Jail time for the errant Priest was the only acceptable solution. It also paved the way for the next step in Father McSweeny’s colorful career.

THE INVITATION


Now that he was outside the Church, and had been during the length of his sentence, the wayward Priest was flying below the radar of the mainstream church. Upon release, Father McSweeny (he kept his title out of spite for the Church) was surprised to find that the Bishop and Archbishop, who even more surprisingly, were dressed in civilian clothes, wearing fedoras and sunglasses, greeted him. In fact, it was only when they hustled him into a cab and removed their shades that he recognized them.

At the Bishop’s private residence Father McSweeny was provided with accommodation, meals and was quietly invested back into the Holy Roman Church, given priest’s clothing and the paperwork necessary for his fully restored role. After a few days of getting re-habituated, they took him in the Archbishop’s black Mercedes to a private suburban residence in an upscale neighborhood, and once inside, a middle age couple introduced to him as the Stephens, greeted them.

After introductions they repaired to a comfortable sitting room, and over a tasty red Italian wine, there ensued a discussion that widened the former Priest’s eyes at the same rate as his penis quietly arose in his slacks. The subject had to do with the irrelevant restrictions on morality imposed by the Church, particularly in regard to sexuality, punishment, the role of children in celebration, and the Church’s mindless abandonment of the pleasures of the flesh. He sensed was about to be presented with a clearly immodest proposal.

McSweeny learned that a dozen Parishes in the region had for decades quietly operated an alternative church that catered to the tastes of select priests and parishioners. These were people who, in the late ‘50s during a religious studies evening course conducted by a professor of religious history, secretly explored the habits and practices of early and pre-Christian religions.

They were particularly interested through fully illustrated lectures about the value of rituals, both old and new, that were exceptionally extreme, including but not limited to exploitation of the bodies of, and undertaking to inflict pain on and cause injury to delectable naked females.

In their study they discovered some customs, and particularly secret ceremonies, that greatly interested them, so much so that over a few years they created an alternative congregation. This new group existed for the express purpose of reintroducing some of the more interesting and outrageous practices of early civilizations into their services. The new group had reintroduced the practice of total ownership of human beings for use in their services, and abolished any restrictions on the age of participants.

They also adapted a unique method of collecting children for inclusion in their activities. The Church set up a special charity that took in newly born children of teen girls who became pregnant, and adopted them out to their own seraglio, where the infants were raised exclusively to serve as sexual toys of the Church and its congregation.

They managed the lives of young girls who came to them having become pregnant, and arranged for them to “run away” from their families, adopting them as new family, taking total control of their young lives. Most of these girls became breeders, producing little girls, gender-altered in the womb, to feed their stock.

The Priest who was their leader of the services and managed the entire operation over the past 25 years had suddenly died of a heart attack, and they were seeking a suitable replacement for him. They wanted a Priest who was steeped in the faith only to provide a foundation for their extreme variations, and one who had demonstrated he had interests that were in line with their own. Father McSweeny had proven to be just such a person, and they wanted to discuss his interest, potential and in a general sense his candidacy to lead them in their exploration of the obscene and profane.

They were aware that the Father had made a study of some of the same religions as those they favored, and had written significant papers on them, making it clear that he was not only knowledgeable but also keenly interested in some things the congregation had explored and put into practice, as well as other outrageous and blasphemous practices they wished to explore.

His final thesis to complete his Religious Studies degree before entering the Priesthood had been a condensation of existing comparative studies, and he had written and had published a remarkable tome on sexuality, sexual violence and religion throughout history.

His work was so explicit, graphic and to many shocking, that it could be published only in the underground press. The material was pirated and distributed in 27 languages for distribution around the world, without benefit to its creator. In many countries young women and girls were brutalized and killed by imitators wishing to reproduce in life what they read in his published thesis project.

He had also done some particularly significant work on the involvement of children in religious ceremonies through the ages, and had uncovered ancient manuscripts that detailed how naked little girls and boys had regularly been used to spice up special rituals that were common in many early religions. The Priest was exploring ground well trodden by others in the past and present, and in a manner that had never been done before.

When some of their wine glasses were nearly empty, Mrs. Stephens clapped her hands, and seconds later a pair of pretty little girls costumed as cherubim appeared. “Costumed” could be arguably considered overstatement. Their hair was up, revealing long shapely slender necks.

They each wore a colorful silk sash that was tied loosely around their slender necks at one end, wrapped loosely around their nude torsos, and crossed in front of them far too low to hide anything of their nakedness, to end tied around their right thigh. Upon their entrance, any slack in the Priest’s erection suddenly disappeared.

In church art and sculpture cherubs were commonly used as decoration, with a sash that discretely covered their genitalia. With these little girls, their sexuality and the irrefutable mark of their gender was on full display, which was entirely the intent of their impudent and fully revealing costumes, artfully designed by Mrs. Stephens.

Although both were strikingly beautiful and well-groomed children, the puffy little parted bun of their fully presented cuntlets were their primary attraction. These naked little love nests were abnormally developed for such young children, displaying the open maturity of an aroused teen-ager’s bare cunt.

These transparent sashes the impish children wore were designed to be loose enough to easily reveal their petite wearers’ little split pubic mounds with every movement, and McSweeny was unable to take his eyes off their fully revealed groin area. Their slits were slightly spread near the top by the gentle bulge of developing little clitoris hoods. It had been nine months since he had last seen, touched or tasted a little girl’s vagina, and he found himself swallowing. Hard.

Years earlier he had traveled to a remote city in Brazil where he had heard a Roman Catholic Church with a rogue Bishop used live cherubim in the ceremony, little children who were completely naked except for a small sash about their shoulders. These attractive little nymphs wore a quiver filled with arrows and carried in their hand a small bow. The beautiful little boys and girls were present throughout the service, dancing to the hymns and circling enticingly around the presiding Priest throughout the service.

When the service was completed and many of the congregation had departed, nearly half remained. In less than half an hour a second service, quite different in nature, began. Men in the costume of early Roman soldiers brought a torpedo-breasted nude woman into the cathedral’s chancel, dragging a heavy wooden cross. She was fair skinned and brown haired, except where it had been thoroughly removed from her armpits and vulva. She was clearly the descendent of early Spanish occupiers of the South American country.

A wreath of thorns sat on her head, pulled firmly into place so that trickles of her blood dribbled down her forehead and cheeks. She was spiked through her wrists and ankles to the stout timber, it was erected and its lower end dropped into a hole in the stone, and after tormenting her with fire and probing her vagina and rectum with their spears, they used them in her sides up under her ribs to end the screaming woman’s life. It was an experience Father McSweeny wanted to repeat, and promised himself one day he would.

The two beautiful little angels who had responded to Mrs. Stephens’ clap carried wine bottles, and refilled the guests’ glasses. They did not leave, but dropped to their knees between Mrs. and Mr. Stephens’ chairs. They placed the wine bottles on the floor, and gently lowered themselves onto the necks, which slid easily up inside their pretty little cuntlets.

‘There’s a cunning little stunt, beautifully performed by a pair of stunning little cunts,’ Father McSweeny thought to himself. His further thought was that it would be quite safe for a man of the cloth to say such a thing in this company. He was encouraged to see how far these people had taken their interest in the overt sexuality of their young wards.

“The children make ideal bottle stoppers to protect the wine, don’t you agree?” Mrs. Stephens asked McSweeny with a fetching smile. “I trained them to do this amusing trick myself, demonstrating to them how they should seductively insert the necks of the bottles into their tiny wombs by sliding down onto them, and then taught them how to stimulate both themselves and anyone watching. By gently riding up and down on the bottle’s widening neck, of course.”

The Priest, newly released from prison for his sex crime against a youth, smiled and nodded his agreement. “They appear to be well trained,” he said, “I should say unusually so for such innocent appearing little girls. What are they, seven?”

“Six,” his hostess told him, “but a mature six, don’t you think? They appear to be a bit more mature because they have been given extensive training in, shall I say, the liberal erotic arts. All of the children in the program belong to the Church, but these two were produced in our breeding program.

They have almost completed their second year of service to the congregation, stay with us in our home when not needed for a service. My husband and I take full responsibility for their training. They’re the seventh pair we’ve trained. They are doing quite well, don’t you think?”

“All of the children?” McSweeny asked, nonplused, looking toward the Archbishop. “The program?”

“Let me start with our core beliefs,” the Archbishop intervened. “We have moved a bit from the traditional dogma of Rome. Shifted, perhaps, just a bit to accommodate our interests, but we have also adapted some new beliefs that require a suspension of some of the more traditional principles that are the foundation of the mainstream Church.

“As an example before you, we fully accept and embrace the principle of sexuality as fundamental to the human condition, not confined just to reproduction. We believe open sexuality to be a crucial and superior virtue in people of all ages, including in particular those as young as these two delightfully naked little creatures. Let me demonstrate that we hold no bounds to the range we embrace.”

He clapped his hands. Rebecca, please.” This was clearly a command. From a narrow doorway appeared a nude woman in her fifties, her body in remarkable shape and wearing spike heeled open strap sandals that extended her remarkable legs and gave elegance to her posture.

Her golden hair was coiffed above her head, leaving her neck open, allowing the gently reversing curve of her entire body to be admired right to the base of her skull. She had, as most women her age do, a petite pot to her tummy, and her cleanly shaved vulva revealed a series of rings piercing her outer labia, and larger heavy rings pulling down on her inner labia, so that they clicked against each other in time to the clack of her spike heels on the hardwood floor.

Her breasts were large, full, firm and completely natural. What was remarkable about the beautiful creature, though, was that beneath her shoulders were hollows where arms should have been. She had been masterfully de-limbed, which somehow amplified the obscenity of her nakedness.

“We also enjoy sports, and Rebecca is an accomplished kick boxer. She has no use for arms, which most of her opponents have, bound tightly behind their backs when they compete.” He nodded to Rebecca, and she obediently left the room, her exhibition completed.

“We in the new enlightened congregation subscribe to the tenants of hedonism, the celebration of the carnal, and have introduced Pagan prayer and practices into our services. We also regularly celebrate the consummate wisdom of the Incas, among others, who taught the world once again the value of human sacrifice, particularly through sacred immolation of young women.

“I know you have made a study of these and other topics, Father, and want you to stop me if anything I say might offend you in any way, although I doubt it shall. I go on because we want you have a firm grasp of how significantly we vary from the tenants and dogma of the mainstream Church. Our distinctive though small congregation, now more than 50 years in existence, has rapidly evolved in a quite different direction from the rest of the Holy Roman Church.”

“I find your description fascinating,” McSweeny said, “and would like to know what kind of boundaries you put around these beliefs.” He could feel his pulse rate increase as he listened to the astounding things he was hearing, particularly because they came directly from the lips of his own Archbishop, and were so in completely line with his own private and until now secret thinking.

“Boundaries are for the common people, and of course for Cardinals and Popes. They dictate the behaviors that must prevail in the public Church, but we have instituted a Church within the Church, so to speak, flying well under the radar, in which more contemporary thinking predominates, and the dated traditional thinking that inhibits the development of the Roman Catholic Church has no place.

“For example, in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries the human body and sexuality became considered sinful. Bodies were covered from neck to wrist to ankle, and any display was deemed not only impudent but also immoral. Much earlier not only was copulation between children and with girls under 12 in the Church services common, but also the use of naked children in passion plays was in style, as the Priests of the day knew how to attract attendance.

“Later all such activity was banished and it moved out of the Church into clandestine theaters. From that time forward all children had to be covered, and wispy groin-covering cloths were added to statues of cherubs and adults alike. It was as if genitalia had in an instant become filthy and beyond the appreciation of mankind. The restrictive and suppressive morals of the day took hold of the Church, and the beauty of the human body became profane, and sinful to display.

“With these changes Church attendance and support promptly fell, but as you well know, the underground theaters flourished. Without the wisdom of clerics to oversee the proceedings, sexuality in the theaters soon took on new nuances with the introduction of floggings, use of medieval wracks and torture implements, and things disintegrated to the point that debauchery and decadence were supplanted with raw torture, dismemberment and even live butchery of bound screaming females for the entertainment of drunken and rowdy audiences.

“We have moved far past deleting false modesty from our vocabulary, are sweeping away the cobwebs of antiquated so-called decency. We recognize how those obsolete pretensions limit creativity. We no longer provide unneeded and hypocritical protection for children from sex, either with each other or in gratifying the needs of adults who don’t respect antiquated moral conventions. We now honor the ages old concepts of cleansing the spirit through elegant torture, and pay homage to the ancient civilizations that understood the true value of pain, suffering and the beauty of terminal torture.

“However, we don’t limit ourselves to honoring the ancient. We also pay homage to more contemporary societies such as the 20th Century’s Nazis, who offered us insights into the iniquities of the human mind and the value of torture and other forms of cruelty to feed the spirit of the chosen. These inspired people created new opportunities for exploring the depths of depravation, a subject of particular interest to the Church.

“You will recall the Holy Roman Church collaborated with the Nazis in many ways, but what is less well known is the degree to which we assisted them in developing effective interrogation techniques revolving around painful stimulation of the genitalia. As you know from our central theme of the crucifix in a central position in all cathedrals around the world, pain is a core value of the Holy Roman Church, and experiencing pain is considered a holy act.

“We had a group of Priests and Nuns who worked closely with the Nazis and became expert in eliciting information from both men and women by bringing excruciating pain to their gonads with electrical stimulation and severe shock. They also did some creative work with the injection of caustic acids into various parts of the anatomy, in particular the genitals, and with crushing specific parts of the genitalia and gonads of both male and female subjects, to great effect. But I digress.

“As a start, we have tapped into the networks of human traffickers, and in return for providing them asylum when it proves useful, we have re-introduced ownership of people, and instituted an urban contracted form of slavery. Best of all, people in a dozen surrounding parishes are unknowingly supporting us financially, allowing us to expand and grow our system right in front of the unsuspecting fools’ noses!”

The Archbishop’s voice rose as it appeared he was getting quite excited describing what amazed McSweeny, who glanced from time to time at the two naked little cherubs who were gently moving up and down on the slender necks of the wine bottles, masturbating themselves. So this was what Mrs. Stephens had referred to.

Father McSweeny was surprised to see girls so young deriving sexual pleasure from carnal attention to their immature genitalia. These naked little children had clearly been well prepared for their roles by Mrs. Stephens. He let his eyes roam over her shapely figure in the light summer dress. His hostess was a voluptuous woman, kept her self in great shape, and he imagined his pleasure at seeing her nude, and perhaps spiking her to a cross as a human sacrifice.

Spurred by a clap from Mrs. Stephens, the pretty little nudes raised up off the bottles, releasing them with a soft “pop”, and they moved around the five visitors to refill their glasses, then returned to their position on their knees, the necks of the bottles once more gracefully sliding deep into their naked little cuntlets.

This was more by habit than necessity, as the bottles had been emptied during the last round. The children were performing for the pleasure it brought them, while providing wonderful background entertainment to their masters and the particular guests of the moment.

“You asked about the program,” the Archbishop continued. Fifty years ago Vatican II re-examined the very foundations of Catholic belief, and as a direct result major changes to the very function of the Holy Roman Church ensued. A group of clergy in Pennsylvania saw in this the opportunity to quietly initiate a radical and secretive reorganization, and the resulting congregation, invisible to the hierarchy, is flourishing and growing.

“A group of Archbishops and Bishops, among them my personal mentor, set up a new cathedral here that opened for mass on Saturday evenings and Sunday mornings only. At all other times people believed it to be a seminary, and in fact on one way it was exactly that. Promising Priests and Nuns were taught a new revisionist theology that is at once both inclusive and exclusive.

“The entire lower floor of the cathedral, below the basement, was converted to holding and training facilities. It includes a nursery where mothers in their early teens are relieved of their infants, and homeless young mothers are taken in to suckle the babies for the first ten months. These young ladies, some no more than 13 years of age, became long term residents, as a part of our slave program, in the roles of both feeders of the infants and as breeding stock.

“We call these young breeders our cowgirls. You could say in a crude manner that this gives fuck-and-suck a new meaning. Their sole purpose in life for them, enforced by us, becomes to suckle infants and to reproduce, sired exclusively by Clergy. For more than 50 years our private herd of cowgirls have been contributing to our stock of lovely little ladies who serve the Church as they mature, and grow into either lithe or voluptuous women for our use.

“Before young priests take their vows of celibacy, they pass on their genes to the mature ladies to ensure the production of new stock, and to see to it the cowgirls come fresh regularly. Minimum production acceptable is one infant per year. We of course retain their infants, relieving them of all responsibility. They will never know which of the infants is theirs, and they rotate the babies they service daily to ensure there is no bonding from either side.

“To ensure the quality of the fresh stock we produce through the rigorous breeding program, Bishops impregnate teen girls who have already given birth, and of course we Archbishops donate our seed to the process, through introducing young girls entering puberty, soon after their first period, to the wonders of human reproduction, through direct insemination of their virgin wombs.

These youngsters enter our bed on ten consecutive nights for copulation training, and if in that period they do not impregnate themselves with our ministrations, they are moved on to serve as human sacrifices in a virgin-forever ritual. The pretty little girls, having offended God by having receiving our semen yet rejected impregnation, participate in a special service in which they are given a “non-invasive” radical hysterectomy through the vagina, with the complete removal of their offending gonads, and of course also their viscera and several other of their internal organs.

“I think you will find the cleansing ceremony quite educational as well as entertaining. The girls to be dispatched at the monthly celebration are held in place by the neck by a thin tight wire on a garrote post set on the communion table. One at a time the girls are treated to the ministrations of the executioner.

When the removal of their offending gonads is complete, including uterus, ovaries and fallopian tubes, the wire is gradually but continuously tightened well past the point of execution by fatal strangulation, but continues until under extreme pressure from the thin wire, the neck completely fails, the body collapses to the floor and the pretty little head rolls free.

“Two or three girls per month require this form of dispatch from our world to the next, and in one month recently there were five. I suspect we might have misread a small vaginal bleed from a Priest’s disciplinary action for menstruation, but all is well when it provides a stimulating event for the congregation, and suitable pretty little girls are so easily obtained that what seems like a waste of a young life is really no more than a minor shift from our intentions for her.

“Those of our female slaves not born to us through cowgirl breeding and acceptance of bastard babies from teenage parishioners, are abducted and brought into the breeding program later in life, at the age of 17, after completion of their education in the school system.

The exception is for little girls identified as being desirable much earlier in life, for which we have specialized “recruiters” who remove them from society by various means to place them into our system. We also identify desirable specimens much earlier in the Catholic schools, but are not in a rush to bring them in. We ensure they leave home when we are ready to harvest them, and then our human traffickers collect them for us.

“Once these lovely girls are in our care we begin a carefully developed process of indoctrination, and when they are properly trained they are permitted to freely move about the City, go to university, and to work in a career. They are, however, not permitted to be in relationships. In the beginning we used steel chastity belts to control them, but now our systems are much more sophisticated.

“Before leaving our dormitories for the day, these girls are fitted with a snug little crucifix that slides securely up into their vagina, out if sight. The shape not only keeps it in place, but provides a constant reminder of who owns them. The metal figure of a nude man crucified on the cross, the penis in full erection, is loaded with plastic explosive, and the cross on which the agonized figure is mounted contains a tiny GPS and also a radio-controlled detonator. With each young lady a walking bomb, they faithfully remain under our total control.

“Upon return to the dormitory, the uncomfortable crucifix is removed from their womb to remind them this is the place of true security for them. The ladies understand this perfectly. Since the first version of this ingenious internal control device was used fifteen years ago, they have been used in hundreds of young ladies who are free to roam the city, with only spot checks performed, and in all that time we have had only three occasions in which detonation became our sole option. The result has proven to be entirely satisfactory.

“The devices are made of materials that completely self-destruct, and no cause for the mystery explosion at the core of these attractive young ladies is ever apparent. The assumption was made that on three unrelated occasions a small rocket-launched incendiary device had somehow hit the three young women who were each believed to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.

In fact the ungrateful wenches had unwisely attempted to escape our custody and their true role as our rightful slaves. The explosions are not excessive, limiting collateral damage. In the three uses of the internal bombs, only a dozen other people have been killed, with no more than 50 severely injured. Considering the method, it’s a quite clean kill.

“We are fortunate that arms and munitions of war are readily available to the public, thanks to our vocal friends at the NRA; that the use of rocket launchers in gang war executions is quite common; and that any collateral damage to innocent by passers is considered an acceptable part of the price of the freedom to bear arms. God bless the souls of our founding forefathers for writing the insightful constitution and its enabling amendments! Our special thanks go to those who wrote the amendments to the constitution. God Bless America!

“Thanks also for the freedom of worship that permits Americans to practice their faith and its many variations at will, completely unaudited, so long as what they engage in is out of sight of the faint-of-heart, and that we can celebrate as we please, out of the awareness of those mindless sheep who would disagree with our unique sexual predilections!

“Some of our slaves reach a high level in the organizations in which they work, and make handsome salaries. Our arrangement with them is tithing. We require them to sign their paychecks over to the Church, keeping for their own discretionary use 10% of their earnings, with which to keep smartly clothed, and to pay for transportation and food when not in our care. The tithing only begins when they gain employment. Students are given a small allowance, and for it perform extra duties in the dormitories.”

“Regarding our seraglio of children, some of the boys are retained to be used as choir boys; the remainder are put up for adoption at birth, as we don’t need too many of those. At the age of 4 the little boys and girls are put into a 2-year training program, and are developed for the needs of our religious services and for our social events as well. You have seen two great young examples of the quality of creatures we produce with our program.”

“If you’ll excuse me asking, Bishop, I couldn’t help but notice the unusual development of the children’s little vulvas,” McSweeny commented, sure now that it was safe to ask such a question of his senior. “How can they be so advanced, both of them, to appear like the more developed pussies of teen-age girls?”

“I’m glad you noticed,” the Bishop replied. “Have you ever heard of blowfish?”

“Yes,” Father McSweeny said, “they’re related to the sucker, aren’t they?”

“Indeed they are,” said the Bishop, “One of our members is a biologist, and his hobby is collecting exotic fish. Several years ago he discovered a near cousin to the blowfish called for some reason the cuddlefish, not in any way related to the cuttlefish. It has rows of little wobbly things lining the interior of its mouth, instead of teeth, that it uses to brush algae from things in the water. I don’t pretend to understand it all, but when he put a pair of them into a tub of water and had one of our novice nuns climb in, so that her bulky breasts were submersed, the two fish glommed onto her nipples and produced the most delighted squeals from the young Sister.

“The amazing fish appeared to be nursing on her, and it provided sufficient stimulus that over the period of a week of three one-hour sessions per day it produced a marked firming, widening and elongation of her nipples. The milk ducts spread and remained open, and we noticed her breasts filled and firmed until she began to dribble milk from them! In such a surprisingly short time the young virgin nun went into full production. The other nuns were certain they were witnessing a true miracle!

A little research by the biologist uncovered the bacteria that the fish were feeding upon. It is found commonly on human skin, particularly around orifices. With that knowledge we put a few little girls in a plastic wading pool and put into it a couple of dozen large cuddlefish. The specialized fish did what came naturally, as expected.

In moments every little girl was squealing in delight as the fish clamped their mouths over the pretty little vaginas of the children and went to work teasing off the bacteria, not only from the outer mound, but also tickling the vestibules of the virgin vaginas. Regular exposure to this delightful play proved to stimulate the rapid development of the little girls’ clitoris, its sheath, and the lower lips of the appealing and enchanting female genitalia.

With this discovery a new program was developed in which girls between 3 and 6 years were given twice-daily half-hour sessions in the pool or a tub with the fish feeding on their cuntlets, with the result you saw with the two little wine stewardesses who serve us.

Three years of suckling by the cuddlefish has produced for them what we now have on all of our little girls, a development and openness of genitalia that is more suited to our tastes. They are also much more receptive to touch, fondling and, if opened, vaginal insertions, than the virgin cuntlets on untreated little girls.”

Father McSweeny felt an issuance of nectar from the head of his penis, as he fought back the urge for a full ejaculation as his mind raced to grasp the reality and possibilities arising from what he was learning. This progressive congregation was indeed an excellent fit for the wayward priest.

“I hope there will be the opportunity of a tour,” Father McSweeny said as the last of the wine was consumed, and they all stood. Mrs. Stephens clapped her hands, and the little cherubs once more stood, pulling off their glass “stools”, and took the now empty wine bottles with them as they departed, their bare little bottoms wagging in rhythm as the buttocks of girls do as they walked through the door by which they had come in.

“Yes, of course, we will show you all of our operations,” answered the Archbishop, “but first there is a bit of business to take care of. Let’s step into the den.”

When the door was closed, the Archbishop made the expected offer, and Father McSweeny promptly accepted. He would be in charge of the services, including the cleansing by pain rituals and human sacrifices. In particular he would be in charge of the training and use of the little girls in the services. As the Archbishop had anticipated, McSweeny found this far too attractive an offer to pass up.

He was given full charge of the use and abuse of the female slaves, and of adapting the most heinous tortures to celebrate the dimensions of inhumanity created throughout the ages. He would also have full access to the seraglio of pretty little girls, and make all the arrangements for their involvement in whatever way he saw fit. McSweeny was certain he had died and had gone to heaven.

The Archbishop excused himself, and the Bishop drove him to the Cathedral. Father McSweeny was startled to see it was one where he had delivered a sermon during a Saturday evening mass just a few years ago. On his tour in the vast underground facilities he saw young women returning from their jobs of studies being relieved of the crucifix in their vaginas. They were all strikingly beautiful. The Father was impressed at the consistent quality of the Church’s female holdings. Indeed the use of inviting young flesh had returned to the Church.

He visited the nursery, where he saw pregnant young girls suckling infants, and then visited the seraglio of children, almost all of them girls, who were kept naked so that it would be their natural state, removing any possibility of modesty. They ranged in age from 4 to 17, and they were all playing as any children would.

A few of the older girls, all of them depilated totally below the neck so that their cute cunts were as bare as those of the smallest children, were engaged in various lesbian sex acts. The exception was 15-year-olds who were lucky enough to have teen male partners engaging them. When they were not planted or thrusting into the girls with furious energy, the boys displayed enormous genetalia.

The Bishop explained that the very large erections of the boys were permanent, sustained by special stimulants, and that the oversized testicles in their scrotums were artificial, implants that ensured only the Clergy could cause pregnancy, safeguarding the purity of the line. McSweeny knew better than to question this statement.

He also saw the impressive workshop where tools, implements and props were constructed for use in the unusual services the Church conducted. These ranged from exotic pincers, knives and swords, to long whips, to long wooden impaling shafts, to stout wooden crosses.

Also in the extensive inventory were breaking wheels, stretching racks, wedge-ridged saddles for groin torture, various sized garrote posts and even a large working (and blood-stained) guillotine. This totally unconventional church was very well equipped for any number of spectacular services, with extensive variation and the most extreme of terminal punishments.

The services, he learned, had over time transformed until they had taken the form of theater, involving enticing if irreverent performances and full involvement of naked little girls, in which the demise of one or more ladies per event guaranteed she would certainly have to be replaced.

Both the Priests and the parishioners were clear that their new congregation had taken the mass from a somber religious experience to pure erogenous entertainment, and a human sacrifice had excellent potential to accommodate the tastes developed over the past half-century of the deviant congregation’s operation. The Holy Father McSweeny’s mind and imagination raced as he considered the endless possibilities for rampant debauchery.

That moment of erogenous reflection pushed him over the edge. He excused himself, slipped into a washroom, and promptly and energetically pumped on his raging erection until, within moments, he forcefully ejaculated into a urinal. His pants had dropped to the floor, and he was vigorously stimulating himself with a finger in his rectum as he masturbated.

He was relieving a pressure that had been building within him all afternoon. He wished he had one of those pretty little cherubs he had been introduced to that afternoon, into whose tender womb he could plant his prodigious production of human seed rather than the inert neck of a wine bottle. He would arrange for that at his earliest convenience, or he wasn’t the honorable Holy (and child-fucker) Father McSweeny!

The Archbishop sat quietly in his study across town, and nodded in approval as he watched the private moment in the washroom on closed circuit TV, caught by a well-hidden camera. His assessment had proven correct. He was pleased by what he saw; the Father would make an ideal new vicar of the maverick Church.



AND THUS A NEW EVIL LEADER WAS BORN


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