The bride and groom's parents take center stage

He raised his voice again, clear and commanding. “Would the bride and groom’s parents kindly come forward?”

Ben’s stomach dropped. No no no. Not them. He tried to move, to shout, to do anything, but his body stayed locked in place, throat sealed shut. He flicked his eyes to Evie, she was the same way, rigid beside him, face pale and streaked with fresh tears. Her hands hung useless at her sides.

Ben’s parents, Mr. and Mrs. Wellington stood up first from the front row, smiling innocently like they’d been called up for a family photo. Evie’s parents, Mr. and Mrs. Harper followed right after, same soft, placid expressions. They walked to the front of the altar and lined up neatly, hands clasped in front like they were waiting for instructions.

Damian pointed to the two women first.

“You and you,” he said, flicking his finger between Mrs. Wellington and Mrs. Harper. “I want to see who’ll make the better lesbian love **** between the two. Have a go at each other. Whoever makes the other one cum first wins.”

Mrs. Wellington didn’t hesitate. She turned, grabbed Evie’s mother by the waist, and jumped her. Their mouths crashed together, hard, sloppy, no hesitation. Hands shoved dresses up and aside, fingers diving between thighs, seeking out pussies like they’d done this a hundred times. Mrs. Harper moaned into the kiss, legs parting wider as she ground against the other woman’s hand.

He turned to the two men, Mr. Wellington and Mr. Harper who were still standing there smiling sweetly, untouched so far.

Damian clapped once, amused. “Well don’t just stand there. It’s a memorable moment. It’s not every day two mothers get to have a lesbian battle on their kid’s wedding day. Get your phones out. Cheer them on as you live stream it to your friends and family.”

“Oh, and maybe jack off while you do it,” Damian added casually. “So you’re more motivated. I don’t know. Cover those two with your cum.”

The men obeyed instantly. One hand yanked open flies and pulled out cocks, already half-hard. The other hand fished out phones, thumbs swiping to start live streams. They angled the cameras down, capturing the two women now on the floor in front of the altar, dresses hiked to their waists, mouths locked on each other’s pussies in a frantic 69.

Ben’s dad leaned in close to his wife’s face, her mouth buried between Mrs. Harper’s thighs and murmured encouragingly, “You can do it, dear. Show that slut who’s boss.”

The women’s tongues worked deeper, wet sounds filling the quiet church. Hips bucked. Moans muffled against flesh. Fingers joined tongues, curling inside, pumping fast.

A few minutes later Mrs. Harper’s body arched hard. She pulled her face free from Mrs. Wellington’s pussy just long enough to let out a loud, broken moan as she came, shuddering, thighs clamping around the other woman’s head, juices smearing across cheeks and chin. Mrs. Wellington kept licking through it, relentlessly, until the tremors stopped.

Then she lifted her head, face glistening and yelled out a triumphant “Woo-hoo!” like she’d just won a game at a barbecue.

At the exact same moment, both men groaned and came thick ropes of cum arcing from their cocks, splattering across the women’s dresses, hair, faces. Streaks landed on torn fabric and bare skin.

Damian laughed, clapping slowly. “Beautiful. Now stand up, all four of you.”

The parents rose. The women looked wrecked, dresses ripped at the seams, cum streaked across navy and pastel fabric, hair matted and sticky, makeup smeared. The men stood with semi-hard cocks still poking out of their open flies, phones in hand, streams still running.

Damian gestured at the four of them, then looked up at the entity wearing Sister Maria’s body.

“Your pick, my lord.”

Maria descended the altar steps with slow, predatory grace. She walked a circle around the four parents, inspecting them like livestock. They just smiled back, calm and empty.

She stopped. One hand landed on Mrs. Wellington’s shoulder. The other on Mr. Harper’s. Both gasped at the touch, eyes fluttering shut for a second then snapped open again. Behind their irises, a faint red glow flickered, same as Maria’s.

“I pick these two,” the entity said through Maria’s lips. “Carry on, boy. Three days, then I shall return for more.”

She turned and walked toward the church doors, the two chosen parents falling in step behind her without a word. Mrs. Wellington and Mr. Harper followed like obedient pets, cum still dripping from their clothes, eyes glowing faintly.

The heavy doors creaked open, then shut behind them.

Damian shrugged, muttering under his breath just loud enough for Ben to catch: “Like you’d let me forget, you ass.”

He looked up at the two left standing, Mr. Wellington and Mrs. Harper. They were still smiling.

“I’m afraid you won’t be seeing your partners again,” Damian told them. “But you don’t really mind. You love each other after all. You’ve had an affair ever since your children started dating. In fact, you want to go to the bathroom right now and fuck each other silly.”

Mr. Wellington, Ben’s dad, the man Ben had always known as quiet, devoted, the one who never missed a family dinner or a school event giggled. Actually giggled. He took Mrs. Harper’s hand, laced their fingers and tugged her gently toward the side door that led to the restrooms.

“Come on, love,” he said, voice giddy. “Been too long.”

Mrs. Harper squeezed his hand back, cheeks flushed, already unbuttoning the top of her dress as they disappeared down the short hallway.

Ben watched them go, horror churning in his gut. His parents. Evie’s parents had been messed with in ways he didn’t quite comprehend even after witnessing it live.

The church stayed silent. Everyone still calm. Still waiting.

Damian turned back to the altar, eyes settling on Evie and Ben.

His smile returned, slow, satisfied, full of promise.

“Now,” he said softly. “Where were we?”