Twisted Ecstasy

F*ck Me, Father, For I Have Sinned (Part 3)

Exhaustion finally catches up to me. After the meeting, the others force me to rest. They prayed over me for hours. One of the older brothers anoints every corner with oil, tracing crosses over the windows and doorframe. Before leaving, they place a small bottle of holy water on the bedside table beside my Bible.

But none of it brings comfort.

I lie flat on my back staring at the ceiling long after they leave, too restless to close my eyes. The room is silent except for the slow ticking of the clock on the wall and the occasional groan of old pipes somewhere in the building. My body aches with exhaustion, yet sleep refuses to come easily. Every time my eyes begin to slip shut, I remember her.

Eventually, fatigue wins.

Sleep takes me suddenly, pulling me under so fast it feels less like drifting off and more like sinking.

At first, the dream is peaceful enough to fool me. I walk through the cathedral garden at dusk, roses blooming sweetly everywhere. Then the air changes. It turns warm and suffocating, scented with that same honey and smoke. My skin prickles.

I halt in my tracks.

Because I know this feeling now.

She steps out from between the vines.

At a glance she looks almost human. A woman with smooth dark skin and eyes that catch every bit of fading light. Her body moves with liquid grace, full hips swaying, breasts straining against thin red silk. Mesmerizing. My mouth goes dry. I try to turn away but my feet stay planted.

“You fought hard today, Elias,” she says. Her real voice. Not filtered through statues. Rich, intimate, right beside me even though she stands ten paces away.

I swallow. “This is a dream. You have no power here.”

She smiles. Then she changes.

Her skin shifts to deep crimson. Two elegant black horns curl back from her forehead. Massive leathery wings unfold behind her, unfurling wide before settling. A long tail sways lazily, tipped with a heart-shaped spade. Her body becomes pure temptation—wide hips, thick thighs, full breasts with dark n*****s pressing forward, waist curving dramatically. Golden eyes glow with ancient hunger. She is terrifying. She is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen.

Power rolls off her in waves. Oppressive. Crushing. My knees weaken instantly. In this place, her realm, my faith feels distant.

She walks toward me languidly, hips rolling with each step. Those extremely long black nails trail along my shoulder as she circles me. The needle-like tips catch on my cassock, slicing thin lines through the fabric without touching skin. Yet the light scrape sends electricity racing down my spine.

“Poor priest,” she murmurs. “So tired of resisting.”

Her nails drift down my chest, tracing just enough to make me feel them through cloth. My body responds immediately, tightening with an urgent heat. I try to pray, but the words dissolve on my tongue. Her power presses in deeper. My strength drains away.

She stops in front of me. Her tail curls around my ankle, delicate and sleek. Those golden eyes lock onto mine. She raises one hand and lifts my chin with a single index finger. The nail rests right under my jaw, dangerously pointed enough to draw blood if she applies pressure. She leans in close. Her full lips hover inches from mine. I smell sweet smoke on her breath.

She chuckles, low and devious. The sound vibrates through my bones. For one agonizing second I think she will kiss me. I hate how much I want it.

Instead she pulls back slightly, grinning with perfect sharp teeth.

That’s when the voices begin.

Hundreds of them. Thousands. They swirl around us like a storm. Every horrible sin humanity ever committed pours into my head at once.

A father describing how he crept into his daughter’s room night after night. A nun confessing she poisoned her entire convent so she could f**k the local bishop on their corpses. Kings boasting about wars started just to r**e the conquered women. Priests detailing how they sold children for power. Mothers admitting they drowned unwanted babies while touching themselves. The voices overlap, scream, moan, laugh. Every depraved act, every betrayal, every sick desire floods me.

I clap my hands over my ears. It does nothing. The sins sink further.

“No!” I scream. “Make it stop!”

My legs give out. I drop to my knees on the garden path. Tears stream down my face. The voices grow louder, mixing with things I recognize: sins from my flock, my secret thoughts, my father’s final moments. Everything she claimed earlier is true.

I sob openly, shoulders shaking. My c**k remains painfully hard, throbbing against my cassock while my mind fractures. The contrast destroys me. Pleasure and horror braided together so tightly I cannot tell them apart.

She stands over me, wings half-spread, looking down with something almost like affection. Her tail slides up my thigh and rests against my aching shaft.

“Listen to them, Elias. This is what humanity is. This is what you spend your life trying to wash clean. But you cannot. No one can.”

A new voice joins the chorus—my own. Confessing things I have never dared speak. The dreams I had as a boy. The times I stroked myself raw thinking of forbidden bodies. The thrill I felt when she first spoke in the confessional.

My crying intensifies. My hands dig into the dirt. “Please… I cannot bear it.”

She crouches in front of me. Her wings fold around us, creating a private hell. Nails trail down my neck, across my collarbone, then lower, circling my n*****s through the torn cassock. Every touch weakens me more. Her power seeps into my bones, rooting me in place and stealing what little strength I have left.

“I can make it stop,” she whispers. Her breath brushes my ear. “All the voices. All the guilt. The aching need. Submit to me like the others did. Say the words, Elias. Tell me you are mine. Let me take care of you.”

Her hand slides down my stomach. Those dangerous nails hover just above my straining c**k. So close. The voices scream louder, a hurricane of every evil act ever committed. I scream with them, tears pouring, body trembling violently.

She leans in again. Lips almost touching mine. “Just surrender. One sentence. ‘I belong to you, Lilith.’ Say it and I will silence them. I will give you pleasure you have never imagined. No more fighting. No more shame.”

My mind splinters. The voices tear at every corner of my soul. Her scent surrounds me. Her heat draws close. My c**k leaks desperately. I want the noise to stop. I want her to touch me. I want—

I open my mouth, shaking.

Her eyes glow brighter. She waits, utterly motionless, nails resting right over my throbbing length.

The voices reach a deafening peak.

My resistance cracks wide open.