Worship

Dorothee called all the sisters into the church and they flocked in without hesitation. However, she was convinced that this immediate obeisance was not due to her - albeit questionable - authority. Her only qualification for the priory warden's office was that she did not have to be available at all times to satisfy the demon's lusts. This meant that all tasks that required a certain degree of continuity automatically fell to her. However, when her absolute lord and master expressed a wish, the nuns hastened to immediately obey him.

The sisters gathered in the nave and prostrated themselves in a wide semi-circle around the altar, soon also in a second and third ring, as otherwise there would not have been enough space. Only Dorothee stood apart in a shadowy niche, her hands folded in front of her flat belly.

The nuns looked up at the monster sitting with its legs apart on the stone throne, which had only recently been the sanctum sanctorum of the church, shamelessly exposing its privates to them. Luisa leaned against him in her torn dress, which barely covered her young flesh. The fresh traces of her deflowering were obvious to everyone. It hadn't been long since they themselves had experienced the same fate. The youngest bride's eyes fluttered unaware of her surroundings or the people sitting around her.

“Behold your new mistress. Worship her as you have learned to worship me.”

The thunderous voice echoed off the walls and had not yet faded when the nuns tore the clothes off their bodies. The fastest ones helped those who were struggling to peel themselves out of their habits, and soon the women were squatting there stark naked. But they didn't just sit and wait. The first of them had already started stroking their breasts and between their legs before the order was given. Now they were practically falling over each other, exchanging kisses and caresses. Sinful hands kneaded buxom bosoms and well-rounded buttocks. Cheeky fingers pertly massaged swollen clits and pushed themselves into dripping wet pussies. Soon, sweaty bodies were writhing on the floor, hugging and kissing each other. They gasped, moaned and squealed. Some already seemed to be close to their first orgasm. And yet the unbridled orgy had only just begun.

The demon grabbed Luisa around the middle of her body and placed her on his lap lightly like a feather. She deliberately spread her legs to give him unimpeded access to everything she had previously kept meticulously hidden and protected from view.

He lifted her so that the tip of his upright pole rested against her bronzed rosette.

Luisa's eyes widened.

“Oh, yes! Take me! Take my virginity a second time!”

Dorothee, who was watching the action lonely and bitter, caught a movement out of the corner of her eye. It was Edward, who had followed the noises and now entered the church. He had tucked his shirt into his waistband in a makeshift fashion. His hair was disheveled and his face a mask of guilt. The voice of his lover was the first thing to shake him out of his lethargy.

“Luisa, hold on, I'll save you,” he shouted and ran off.

But Dorothee was quicker. She cut him off in just a few steps, grabbed him by the elbow and pulled him towards her. As if of its own accord, her hand slipped down the front of his trousers, found his testicles and squeezed.

“Oooouuuiiiiii!”

Edward's scream pitched higher and higher. Tears welled up in his eyes from the pain and his legs gave way.

His tormentor did not let up. It made her feel so good not to be the one being hurt for once. To inflict the agony she had to endure on someone else this one time. She squeezed and squeezed and squeezed. And she smiled.

Luisa looked at him, but had nothing but contempt left for her former lover. She closed her eyes, exhaled deeply and tried to relax. Her rear gate gave way, widened and the iron rod made its way in. She panted. It was almost unbearable, the pressure, the burning. But there was no turning back. She slid down further and further until the entire, unimaginable length of it was sunk into her.

A strange pride flowed through her. She was the mistress and the monastery lay at her feet.