Edwin Morrow stood at the altar, hands gripping the lacquerd wood with a firmness that stretched the skin on the backs of his hands taught. His dark eyes slowly shifted from one member of the church to the next as they filtered out, like buzzing bees leaving the crowded hive.

His gaze fixed upon the small group that remained between the pews, chatting and smiling. He felt a great sense of annoyance rise within him that was immediately washed away by a twinge of guilt. He had briefly bemoaned the idea of people in a place of worship, he lowered his gaze and took a slow breath through his nose. He had to stay steady, not let this fiery urge overcome him too quickly.

He slowly ran his thumb over the wood of the podium and thought of what lay below, as he always did in these times. The way it enticed him, it's whispers of longing seeming to creep through the floorboards. He rolled his shoulders and adjusted his collar.

Just then his immense focus was broken by a small voice behind him, "Father Morrow." The voice was filled with reverence and admiration. Despite himself the smallest of smiles tugged at his lips. "Sister Everley."

Finally releasing the podium he turned, his gaze settling upon Helena Everley's face. Her bright eyes met his and her soft lips parted, "Scripture has been read by millions, and heard by many more." She almost stood on her tip toes in fervor, "Yet, when it's read by you, interpreted by you, its read like it never has been."

The power of those words, it twisted Father Morrow free from what lay below effortlessly. He took her hands into his own and smiled widely. "Your kindness flows from a soul abundant with love. And...." Morrow paused and addressed her in a slightly more relaxed way, leaning his head forward and lowering his voice, "Thank you Helena. You being here has made this little place of worship all the more lovely."

At this she actually began standing on her tip toes, gleaming. Her eyes, widened then, "AH." Father Morrow raised his eyebrows. "Is today Sunday?" Morrow glanced around at the space they occupied and nodded with a small smile. "We are in church, Sister." She gave an embarrassed little nod and said "Movie night! I need to get the house ready!" She made for the doors of the church quickly before pausing. She seemed to falter, staring outside.

"Yes, Sister?" Morrow asked. She slowly spun around and asked hesitantly. "There's going to be a few members of the church there! Would you like to come over?" Morrow was so enamored he even briefly considered it. Had anyone else asked he would have pretended to ponder at it but then shot them down. Yet even as his genuine interest fought to have him leave, the ever present urge made his hands curl into fists as they were deep in his robes.

"Previous engagements tonight, however-" he took a moment to adjust his collar once more. "I am not at all opposed to the idea." Sister Everley gave a deep appreciative nod and took off without closing the doors behind her.

Silence rung out in the church then. Yet Edwin's heart rattled its ivory cage. He took heavy steps to the door. Purposefully slow and meaningful, knowing they would echo into the basement below. Knowing that it's inhabitant would be all too familiar with his gait. He smiled again, this time with a distinct lack of the warmth that had once graced his face, and shut the doors.

Edwin took a deep breath and turned around, dropping his robes over the pews as he went, leaving him in his black button up and pants. His heart now beat in a rhythm that he was familiar with. The urge within him was made manifest as he approached the locked door to the stairs. The key, always adoring the inside of his pocket, unlocked the door and revealed the dark staircase.

He was unique amongst the clergy for how he felt. Others had descended into basements that held monsters. Yet none had felt this. They had been enthralled by the fight or flight response. Edwin walked with a different purpose. He didn't walk to absolve sin or to abstain from it, he walked with it at his back, ushering him onward.

He now reached the door, padlocked shut, heavy duty steel that didn't belong in a church of this size. He unlocked it, and pushed it open with some effort to reveal what lay in this hideaway.

There, chained to the wall was the manifestation of a Holy Man's deep rooted sin. It smiled at him, an eager smile and a low purr emanated from its throat. "You've been daydreaming all day Father." The cuffs securing its wrists and ankles to the wooden cross bolted to the wall clinked sharply as the Demon stretched and contorted in her bonds.

She didn't move with desperation or with fear but with the air of a lioness stretching its muscles before a long hunt. She spoke slowly, her tongue stretching out of her mouth as if to sample the very air in the room, "I could hear your heart beating faster every time you thought of me Father. I could taste your greed."

Edwin let the paradoxical feeling he had been craving all day overwhelm him. He has never felt more powerful than he was now, standing before his demonic captive. Yet, he knew he was leashed to his desires more than she was chained to the wall. He was a slave to them but he couldn't help himself. He strode to a nearby bowl of water adorned with crosses. The demoness knew where this was going, her back arched and she took a deep, quick breath.

Edwin dipped his fingers into the Holy water and swirled them about, letting his hand be soaked in it before he stood before her. He set the bowl down and grabbed her by her throat with the dry hand, "And what do you taste now Emmerion?" He growled as he pressed his holy water doused fingers against her lips.

Her body seemed as though it couldn't decide whether or not to recoil or to embrace him as she jerked about in her steel restraints. She made the mistake of parting her crimson lips to let out a small cry. Edwin slid his fingers between her lips and against her tongue she had used to sense his lust not moments ago. "Answer my question Succubus."

Her quick gasping breaths caressed his hands as she made an attempt to speak with a hand in her mouth. There was naught but mumbling and drooling. He pressed his hand against her throat with renewed vigor and pulled his holy water infused hand out and delivered a quick slap to her face. "I can't fucking hear you, Satan's Whore." Her tongue flicked out eagerly tasting his obvious fervor on the air. "I taste your power Father."

He stood, letting the blood rushing through his veins carry that sense of pure pleasure. The blessing he had been given was not lost on him. To indulge in sin against another person was to invite the Devil into your heart, but to deeply indulge in sin against a demon? It filled the very marrow of his bones with a fire very few had been able to experience.

Yet, as there always was, a sliver of doubt pierced that tidal wave of pleasure. Against a demon? He could feel her wicked heart pounding beneath the fingers squeezing her throat. He could see her frenzied desperation as she licked her Holy Water stained lips. The way they quivered in pain, yet her eyes reflected pleasure. Against a Demon. With a demon.

Through her pain she didn't lose an ounce of her confidence. "It's eating you up isn't it? I'm your helpless victim. Yet-" her wet lips spread into a deep smile that revealed her teeth. "Watch me smile Edwin. Listen to my breath. Feel the rhythm of my heart." She has read him so easily. He scowled and retreated back to a wall adorned with all manner of instruments of pain and restraint. From it he pulled a leather strapped red Ballgag.

She giggled at this and let her hips move towards him in a quick, eager sort of sway. "Such a thin artifice, your vitriol. When I see how much you get off on this. How long you've imagined the muffled whines of a-" she was cut short then as he stuffed the gag between her lips. The strap pulled tight as it pressed itself into her mouth. She had been right, the sound she made when muzzled was almost too much to bear.

He rolled his sleeves upward as she struggled. The way her eyes remained locked upon his as she drooled and strained seemed to be for his own benefit. He snarled at this and took a long drink from the holy water, letting it coat his lips before he descended on her chest, letting her nipples be exposed to that which brought her so much expressive struggling.

Her back arched, and she let loose a strangled cry. The chains held fast as her hands spread open, revealing her palms. Edwin, lost to his own indulgence laced his own fingers with hers as he bit down on her nipple, his other hand gripped her other breast tightly, his fingers surely leaving bruises on her crimson skin.

His chest rose and fell heavily and quickly. Now her body, her being, was all according to his will. Her pain, her pleasure even, was all his. He wanted her to scream, she did, he wanted her to moan she would, he wanted her to struggle she would oblige. She was all his.

He could feel every ounce of his body craving something. A sensation he couldn't ignore. He couldn't deny this overwhelming urge anymore, he sunk to his knees, not in prayer, but in blasphemy. He let his lips trail down her stomach until he rested on his knees between her quivering legs. Deep animalistic breaths mixed with her gagged whimpers. He grabbed her thighs tightly and leaned in, letting himself taste her soaked pussy.

Every addict spends the rest of their life chasing the first high. The one that speared their soul and dragged it along for the ride. Edwin kneeled now, experiencing the greatest high he had ever known. The taste of her was completely overwhelming.

He lapped at her cunt eagerly, his fingers pressing deep bruises into her thighs as he forced himself on her, his movement pressing her against the wall as he went, leaving no room for escape, not that she wanted any.

She had gone absolutely feral, jerking and twitching, doing her best to thrust forward into his awaiting mouth, completely a slave to him now. Not aware of the gag anymore she moaned in ecstasy, her lips tightly wrapped around the ball as she drooled, leaving wet trails running down her chest.

Her pathetic moans intermingled with the clinking of her restraints was the only sound for a brief while until his growls began to ring out. His ravenous licking of her cunt seemed animalistic and nonsensical but no, he was getting off on hurting her. The way she arched her back when the tip of his tongue just barely flicked her clit. This was animalistic force, and this was premeditated cruelty.

Her trembling legs began to fail as his relentless assault prevailed. There was nothing but this. Everything had faded away. She went quiet briefly as that wave of pleasure began to envelope her completely. She was going to cum. SLAP.

She recoiled and let out a muffled cry, her red eyes filling with immediate tears of frustration and pleasure. She began to protest through her gag but not before she was slapped twice more. She cast her eyes downward to the priest, his form menacing despite being so low. His eyes were locked on hers, his focus now completely on her tear streaked face.

He rose now, standing up tall, head and shoulders above her, especially as her legs had bucked and she was now held up by her wrists. The demon had never been in the presence of the Devil before, yet now she began to think this is what it must feel like. He reached out and wrapped a hand around her throat. Once again she felt a harsh slap against her soaked pussy, aching in need, aching in pain.

"Beg." Edwin leaned in close and growled deeply into her ear. "Beg like the bitch you are." His beard glimmered with sweat, spit, and her own ecstasy.

Emmerion knew of nothing but obedience in that moment. The hollow place in her body where a soul might lay was occupied only by the insatiable desire to obey. She glanced up and began to beg for him to stop in earnest. "Pleesh. Pleesh Shir. Shtop."

Edwin took a sharp intake and gave her the most wicked smile she had ever seen. "When did I say beg for it to stop Bitch?" He slapped her cunt again and Emmerion whimpered. "Beg for more punishment. Like a good little Demon."

Emmerion was a hollow vessel. Emptied out by the pristine, immaculate torture she so desperately craved. What she had been filled up with was an obedient little slave.

Her body responded to his touch, her voice echoed his commands, her thoughts had been ensnared in his web. She was being thoroughly used for his own desires. Yet, the steady slapping of her eager cunt once again fueled that roaring tide of pleasure within her.

His words echoed in her ear as her knees buckled, his hand on her throat keeping her aloft, the sharp ring of the slaps that kept her aching pussy in pain and her clit sensitive with that primal need.

She had stopped recoiling at his assault on her pussy. She now shivered with desire and let the apathy of pure indulgence ravage her. Closing her legs was simply not something her body would allow. Edwin would simply force her thighs apart anyway.

Drool cascaded from her soft lips, as she begged, covering her chest in a deep shine that reflected in the light of the basement. Edwin stood, admiring his little work of art, the time between his slaps growing longer and longer before the last echoing smack echoed through the room.

The hand he has been punishing her with was slick with her own ecstasy, drool, and his spit. He raised it to her ballgagged mouth and delicately rubbed his thumb over her lips. Soft whines escaped from the gag as he slowly ran his wet hand over it, letting her taste the filth of his desires and her own compliance.

Her hips were still thrusting forward in a half hearted attempt at getting some form of stimulation as he had left her sorely wanting. For the first time that night their feelings were one and the same. Within his black trousers his cock throbbed with the incessant need of a man deep within a fantasy yet without the courage to finally slip fully into sin.

Her eyes, fluttering as they were, still stared deeply at the bulge in his pants as she thrust her hips towards him. Drooling and crying softly in need.

Edwin could feel his grasp on himself slipping. There was very little reason left within him as his fingers twitched in feral need. How easy it would be to loosen the buckle on his pants. Beat her with this belt as he robbed her of any reservations she may have. Finally tasting in that sweet fantasy he had been ruminating on for so many days now. He so desperately needed to fuck her.

"NO." He thought with a vehement force that seemed to echo around his skull. No. Her smooth, lustrous black hair framed her face now as she slouched, her legs giving way as she panted and weakly begged. He would not lose himself to sin. He would indulge, and then he would repent. Never straying from this path.

He strode forward and lifted Emmerion's face by her chin using his finger. His breath still deep he asked with a controlled voice. "You have two options. Whatever you choose you'll find yourself in that situation for the rest of the night. So choose wisely." He wiped one of her tears away absentmindedly with a thumb.

"You can continue to be tortured all night long once I leave, or-" he fished in his pocket and placed a silver key within her palm. "You can use this to free your restraints." He leaned in close. A deep fury shone in her eyes just then as she recognized what he was holding. A retribution key. He raised his eyebrow as she immediately cast the key away. It rang with a clear high tune as it bounced off the ground.

Emmerion locked eyes with him, and spat "Fuck you." Through her gag. Edwin smiled. "I did have a go at mercy first."

Fresh hot tears welled in Emmerion's red eyes as she panted and struggled. Father Morrow had not been lying when he said what she would be enduring would be torture.

Her legs had been spread apart and a vibrator had been stuffed inside her. A thick blindfold had completely shrouded her in a darkness that only served to make her helplessness all the more palpable. Clamps had been added to her nipples that had silver crosses dangling from each, the silver cross sent wave after wave of tingling pain and pleasure through her.

All of this would have been maddening, yet the Father's cruelty was being aimed at a demon. He had no limits. The bucket of holy water above her that slowly dripped that shining dew on her chest was the height of his punishment. Steadily, constantly dripping that water on her chest in what seemed like a relentless torrent but what was really a single drop about every ten seconds.

The last addition to this however was by far the most torturous. A leather collar adorned with a single silver key, jingling as she squirmed and begged to no one. Her freedom so very close, yet so far.

"The fucking retribution key", she thought to herself. "That bastard." She knew why it was attached to her collar. A reminder. The most vindictive of weapons against a demon. She struggled on earnest at this, her anger made manifest. Yet the culmination of his indulgence was too much for even her to escape. The tight bondage, the gag, the vibrator, the clamps, the blindfold, the fucking holy water.

She couldn't pretend like this wasn't a thrill, like her pussy wasn't soaking the tape he used to hold the vibrator inside her. Even the agony of the clamps and water had her squirming in need. She couldn't help but thrust her hips forward now as she thought about his last words, his playful little smile. "You are the rare sort to get to enjoy your penance." He had paused and turned away, hiding his face. "My little Demon." Not soon after he had slammed the door and locked it tight.

As the first few hours had passed the low hum of the vibrator hadn't been enough to cum. Yet as she thought of his face, his smile, his proclamation of ownership, she began to breathe faster. She couldn't help but repeat the same thoughts over and over and even started to say it through her gag. "His little demon. His slut. His bitch." She vividly recalled the feeling of his tongue against her clit and let out a loud whine of desperation as she unintentionally caused her clamps to shake violently.

If a church goer were to sink deep into prayer they might hear a supernatural presence calling out. They might even mistake it for something divine.

End of Part 1