Chapter 7
Paul Brannigan stood back of an opening in the end wall of the room, peering out through one slanted eye slit of the fiery Satan's head on the other side. He held a microphone in his hand that greatly amplified and distorted his natural voice.
He watched Angelique's lush body writhe and twist in restraint, clanking the four chains that bound her arms and legs outstretched on the altar bed. He felt pangs of mixed emotion-love for the beautiful blonde nun, and cold concern because he knew she'd tried to betray him.
The three-pronged rubber spear affixed to Monk's cockshaft ravaged her sleek cunt. She bucked and screamed from intense stimulation, nerves twanging that had never been touched before. She babbled prayers to Satan, begging for relief. That came as a climax more sharply thrilling than any she'd ever had before.
"Only in earthly pleasure is there relief from earthly pain," he intoned in a voice that seemed to be coming from the fiery devil's mouth.
Angelique lay gasping, weak with rapture that dulled her fear and numbed her sense of pain. The next of Satan's Slaves moved into place astride her as soon as Monk had removed his trident-headed cock.
Brannigan felt sorry for the girl. He loved her and wanted her for his own. But he sensed that it would take an experience nothing short of stark terror to free her from long years of strict religious training.
He set the microphone on a small table behind the huge mask and walked back to the mission. There was work to be done preparing for the evening meal in the charity dining hall, and he had no need to watch all thirty male members of Satan's Slaves condition her to willingly accept the pleasures of her own flesh.
It took several hours for the thirty hot-blooded young males to each fuck Sister Angelique three times. By then she was bleary-eyed with delight. She had experienced more than a hundred gut-wrenching climaxes and during the third round, the virile young studs had had extra staying power. Most brought her to orgasm more than once before her pussy could coax their plunging cocks to fire.
She lay as a trembling heap by the time each one of thirty had been satisfied three times. A puddle of slick cum glossed the red satin sheet spread beneath her. Girl slaves had licked and sucked her pussy clean every third or fourth fuck, but still it bubbled and overflowed with creamy hot jism.
"Now let me rest," she moaned, pleading with the fiery head of Satan. "Please, dear master of the nether world, don't let me suffer more than this."
Monk swirled his cape. "Satan doesn't answer because he's not certain you've truly converted to our ways."
"I have!" she insisted. "I love pleasure and know that I can do good things without denying myself. Father Brannigan tried to tell me last night but then I wasn't ready. Now I believe!"
Monk sneered in retort. "You would have betrayed him with your self-righteous zeal if we hadn't stopped you. He'd have been banished from the church, the mission closed and all those poor people left hungry."
Angelique wept tears of sorrow, but Sheila remained unimpressed. "She's never been hungry a day in her life. It's easy to be holy when you're well fed, the roof don't leak, and there ain't no rats crawling through your room at night."
"R-r-rats?" Angelique stammered, remembering the one that scurried across her path on the way to the mission, leaping into a trash can in search of food.
"Yeah, rats," Monk said. "We gotta fight them for survival around here." He crossed a finger over his lips and hissed for quiet.
In the sudden stillness, Angelique heard a faint sound of scurrying under the platform on which she lay bound. That scurrying became a scramble of animal noises that made the nun's blood run cold.
Monk grinned and his dark eyes flared wildly behind the half-mask that covered the upper part of his face. He took an open can of cat foot handed to him by one of the other slaves and began to smear the liver-scented paste all over the cone of her left tit, mounding it high until the creamy dome appeared to be twice natural size.
"The priest who ran the mission before Brannigan was a bumbling, bleeding-heart," Monk said. "He decided to clear the waterfront of rats by adopting all the cats in the city animal shelter."
Floyd, with his bandaged thigh, held a can of chicken-flavored cat food. He began mounding that on Angelique's right tit, shaping the strong-scented paste to match her shapely cone. He even formed what looked like a meaty nipple on top.
"But the only cats who get to the animal shelter come out of the suburbs," Floyd said. "They don't have balls enough to go after a rat. So the priest had to start feeding all the fat cats. He spent every dime the church gave him to run the mission on cat food."
Eddie, whose arm was in a cast, moved by her waist. He held a can of fish-flavor cat food and began daubing the contents into the slit of her cunt with his left hand.
"The waterfront rats ain't a bit bashful," Eddie told her. "Soon they was killing the fat cats to steal their food."
"Those rats go absolutely wild when they smell cat food now," Monk said with a fiendish grin, shaping the tip of the liver-scented mound over her left tit into a nipple.
"But the fish-flavor is what they like best," Eddie said with a smirk. "That's why I'm packing your cunt full of that. Soon as we back away from the table, some rat's gonna have himself a real feast."
Angelique now knew the next horror they had in mind for her. Her chained body had been set up as a delicious smorgasbord. Satan's Slaves all backed away laughing at her wide-eyed look of sickened distress.
It took only a moment for the first sniffing rat to appear from beneath the satin-draped altar bed. The colony nested under the rotting floor and emerged through a hole. Angelique could hear others scratching and clawing to reach food they could smell above.
The first rat leaped up on the side of the bed and began to feast on liver-flavored cat food mounded over her left tit. She could see its clicking yellow teeth working like curved fangs.
Another long gray rat leaped up on the right side, wagging its cold snake-like tail as it feasted hungrily on food mounded over her other tit. Angelique twitched and jerked in terror.
"Stop them!" she moaned. "Ooooh, dear Satan ... don't let them eat me alive!"
The fiery mask remained silent. Father Brannigan was still at the mission, helping to serve the evening meal, trying to find words of encouragement for his poorest parishioners.
Angelique strained her neck and gaped in abject terror at the rats scrambling over her tits.
There were six of them now. She could feel the scratch of their needle-sharp claws and hear the nipping of their yellowed buck teeth slashing nearer and nearer to her skin.
Between her chained feet she saw the one male member of Satan's Slaves she had yet to meet a boy in late teens with a hideously scarred face. Lifeless flesh drawn tight warped his lips into a permanent lopsided grin. He held a pump-action rifle in the crook of his arm.
"Please help me!" she screamed. "Shoot them! Don't let them eat my tits!"
His expression remained impassive even though the rats had increased their scrambling to a frenzy. Along with food they'd caught the scent of human fear and helplessness
"Can't you hear me?" she cried. "I'm begging, I'm pleading!"
Sheila said, "He can hear you, but it's hard for him to talk. Rats got into his crib when he was a baby and ate half his tongue. They tore his face up like that and pretty girls like you have shunned him ever since."
"What's his name?" Angelique asked desperately.
"We just call him Ratshooter. He's very good with that gun."
"Ratshooter, please help me! I'm-I mean, I was a nun. I've trained all my life to help people. I need your help now! I'm one of Satan's
Slaves just like you!"
Ratshooter's steely gray eyes flickered, but the hands holding his rifle never moved. Beautiful girls like this one had mocked him all his life. They made fun of his gaunt face and his faltering speech. He enjoyed watching them suffer in return, and he enjoyed Angelique's hideous torment most of all. She had turned against a kindly priest who had befriended him.
Another rat emerged from beneath the red-draped altar bed. Its pink nose twitched nervously. This large rat was the leader of the pack. It knew the dreaded scent of Ratshooter and his deadly, well-oiled gun.
But the king rat could smell the even stronger scent of food. More hungry than cautious, it leaped up on the foot of the bed between Angelique's bound legs and burrowed its long pointed snout into her pussy. The hungry rat was greedily licking her clit to get at the fish-flavored cat foot.
The others had eaten almost everything off her tits and were battling fiercely over the last remains. Their flashing claws left bloody slashes on flawless white skin and their yellowed buck teeth nipped like razor-sharp knives.
That huge rat burrowing between her legs pawed her pussy lips and wiggled his snout deeper into a narrow channel packed tight with delicious food. The scent of blood from her tattered cherry mixed with the smell of fish and sent the rat into ravenous frenzy.
It felt like a big hairy cock wiggling and twisting in her narrow tunnel, a cock with teeth and a flailing tongue. Angelique loathed bestial abuse, but her cunt began to respond to hideously intense stimulation.
The rats scrambling all over her tits tasted tiny droplets of blood on her nipples. One braced on its forepaws, arching high with yellow buck teeth flashing in the wavering light.
Angelique shrieked in terror, certain that her nipples would be bitten right off. Her teary eyes clamped shut and she did not see Ratshooter bring the rifle to his shoulder.
Her fearful wail kept her from hearing the sharp little crack that sounded just as the rat's glinting yellow teeth touched her nipple. She felt a string of terrible pain ... then the rat's head exploded.
Sister Angelique's religious training had covered all the fiery torments of hell, but nothing in all that teaching had prepared her for the excruciating torture and vile, dehumanizing degradation she suffered at the mercy of starving rats.
Her face became a stark white mask of tortured loathing. Her skin turned sweaty cold except where it had been splattered with warm rat blood. The lewd beast worming into her pussy was a nightmarish thing to think about, but perversely exciting as well.
The rat was larger and more lively than any man's cock. Crazed burrowing for food in her slender fuck tunnel was starting the hard contractions of a hideously intense orgasm.
A rat on her chest bared its slashing yellow teeth and lunged at her blood dripping nipple. Ratshooter's rifle cracked again. Angelique's eyes were open then, frozen wide with a blank look of terror beyond comprehension.
She saw the rat's furry gray body pierced by the bullet as though it all happened in slow motion. Blood geysered out the far side as the lead pellet passed through. It splashed her face and chest and she watched the rat's body fly over her head in the throes of death.
Its death spasms were no less frantic than the contractions in her pussy. The rat was all the way in her except for its snake-like tail. That wagged back and forth between her spread thighs.
The crack of gunfire and smell of smoke sent the rats scurrying away, all but the one burrowed deep in her sleek cunt. It clawed and nipped at the enveloping walls in a blind frenzy to find food.
The burrowing rat became frantic as the rippling walls closed in with crushing force. Its desperate squirming made her sensations of obscene pleasure even more intense.
Her cunt's wringing spasms cut off the rat's breath. Smothered in constricting pussy flesh, it twitched erratically for a full minute, bringing her bestial orgasm to a thrilling peak. The wide-eyed young nun howled a cry of shrill pleasure, squeezing out the rat's dying breath.
Tension left her strained body and the nun fell limp in lewd bliss. Not only had she found relief in orgasm, but her passionate undulations had killed the loathsome beast that both tormented and enthralled her.
All of Satan's Slaves stood gasping, eyes riveted on her splayed crotch and the last reflexive twitch of the dead rat's tail. Ratshooter grinned calmly and yanked it out.
She shuddered. "Thank you."
She was spiraling down from the dizzy peak of obscene delight and didn't want to be reminded how it came about once she fully regained her senses.
Ratshooter brought a pan of water and sponged away the blood. Then he cleaned her wounds and applied a soothing first aid cream. His stroking hands returned natural warmth to a lush body.
"I want you to fuck me now, Ratshooter," she said.
"R-r-really?"
"Yes, really. I'll be better for you than anyone before."
Ratshooter grinned warmly, so pleased by her willingness that his scars scarcely seemed noticeable.
"Release her," he said. "I don't think she needs the chains now."
Sheila freed Angelique's wrists while Connie opened the manacles locked around her ankles. They were all smiling now. Sister Angelique had gained immeasurable respect during her last ordeal.
"Hey, Ratshooter," Monk said with a wry grin. "Watch yourself. That girl's got a killer cunt!"
It took Angelique more than an hour to fully satisfy Ratshooter's pleasantly large cock. He'd been too long ignored by too many girls and never had he fucked one as eager or as beautiful as Angelique. And never had he experienced such hard milking contractions in climax. She drained and sated his anxious cock expertly.
"I think we should consider her for full membership," Sheila told Monk.
The rest of Satan's Slaves murmured and nodded in agreement.
"She deserves more than membership," Satan's thundering voice intoned. "Sister
Angelique should be our High Priestess of Pain!"
That stirred another loud murmur of agreement.
"I'll get her a cape!" Sheila said.
Angelique sat up smiling on the altar bed and swirled her long golden hair. Her acceptance was gratifying. She only hoped Paul Brannigan would welcome her back as well.
"And bring her a cat-of-nine-tails too," Paul said in a deeply distorted voice. "That is to be the symbol of her authority. I have a special treat in store for our lovely new High Priestess of Pain."
Angelique felt a restless curiosity, hoping that her special treat would be Father Brannigan's big gnarled cock. Of all who had fucked her, she still liked him best.
Sheila and Connie cloaked the golden-haired girl in a flowing long cape of red satin. They fitted the hood with its two devil's horns carefully on her head and adjusted the front piece that masked the upper half of her pretty face. Then Sheila handed her a cat-of-nine-tails larger and more ominous-looking than the one used by Sister Bernice.
Angelique hefted the long-handled lash with nine sinewy tongues of leather tipped with hard knots. She turned to face the fiery mask.
"Oh, mighty lord of the underground, what treat do you have for a devoted slave?" she asked.
"What treat would you like most?" Long tongues of spitting flame came with the question.
"I would beg my fiery master for the most wonderful cock on this earth. I would like to be with Father Brannigan again and atone for my attempt to betray him."
"I will consider your request, my pretty High Priestess. But for now the offering is one of pleasure you will enjoy perhaps even more. Bring in the wayward sinner!" his thundering voice roared.
Wide double doors at the far end of the room swung open on squealing hinges and four of Satan's Slaves marched a struggling big nun into the room.
Angelique gaped, "Sister Bernice!"
"She has broken her sacred vows by leaving the convent without permission. She came looking for a young nun named Sister Angelique and did so with lechery in her heart."
"For that she must be punished severely," Angelique said in a tone strained with delighted anticipation. "Strip the lewd bitch and bind her facing Satan's image!"
Obedient Slaves overpowered the screaming big nun, wrestling her to the floor. Chattering female members ripped and tore her habit and gaped in awe at sister Bernice's frig clit. Then they lifted and dragged her toward Satan's fire-breathing visage.
Sheila extinguished the propane-fired torch, but the heavy metal remained searing hot. They yanked up Bernice's long arms and bound her wrists to the devil's horns.
Her tits were full and firm, topped with large dark nipples that aligned perfectly with the slanted eye holes in the huge steel mask of Satan's glowering face. Her firmly mounded tits pushed through the metal openings.
Monk secured a chain to one of the leering devil's hot fangs and looped it tightly around Sister Bernice's waist. He cinched the free end to the other fang, pressing her naked, darkly furred cunt slit against the gaping mouth.
Hot metal burned her powerful loins.
"You bastards!" Bernice screamed. "Let me go! I'm a nun. The Sister of Discipline-"
"Then you above all others should know that you've broken your vows by leaving the convent without permission," Angelique said. "And to do that for lust compounds your terrible sin!"
Sister Bernice didn't recognize Angelique's voice. Nor had she recognized the young blonde's luscious body.
Now she stood bound to the image of Satan, her arms stretched high overhead so that her toes barely touched the floor. She felt pain in her wrists and elbows. Her shoulders and arm muscles ached, but the worst pain was the burning sensation all around her pussy mound and its protruding big clit.
Angelique strode into position, arcing her whip hand high and hurling it far back. The lash hissed in a room that was suddenly still with tense expectation. Sister Bernice winced and tried to steel herself against pain soon to come.
The red-garbed High Priestess of Pain swung hard and cracked the nine-tongued lash across the back of her former tormentor.
Sister Bernice gave a blood-curdling scream. She had often inflicted, but seldom experienced pain. The lash struck twice more before the echo of her first anguished cry had faded.
On the far side of the wall, Brannigan could see her enormous clit pushed into the mouth opening in the steel mask. He dropped to his knees with lips tightly drawn and sucked it in to meet his flailing tongue.
Sister Bernice gasped. A thrilling and unexpected shock of pleasure dulled the pain of blazing welts that crisscrossed her broad back. She pushed her cunt mound farther into the devil's mouth and moaned, tossing and rolling her head.
Angelique raged. "How dare you foul the image of Satan with a pious cunt that has never been fucked?"
She hurled the lash in a vicious sidearm arc and stripped Bernice's tautly rounded ass cheeks with nine blazing welts. Sister Bernice screamed and moaned joyously with the same breath. Brannigan reached his hands up and was whirling her nipples hard. They poked through the eye holes of the mask and swelled hot with rushing blood beneath his spinning fingertips.
"You find pleasure by pushing your innocent cunt into Satan's mouth?" Angelique said in a tone of accusation.
"I can't help it!" the Sister of Discipline moaned.
She knew now why the young nuns she'd bound to the cross could not resist tingling their clits against the wooden nub. Having her clit sucked and tongue lashed by an unseen stranger was very thrilling. She gasped lewd cries of delight.
Angelique laid on the lash without mercy, striping Sister Bernice's ass and broad back alternately until the tangled pattern of fiery welts began to show traces of blood.
Brannigan sucked and licked the big nun to a torturous climax just as Bernice thought she would pass out from the pain of her brutal lashing. She tensed and strained, tossing her head so far back that she could see a half circle of swelling hot pricks behind her. Bernice gulped.
"Fuck me, somebody ... anyone! All of you, I have to feel a real cock!" she cried.
Angelique grinned coldly and nodded her consent. Her arm was tired from flailing the lash and she was anxious to see Father Brannigan again. Inflicting pain made her pussy as hot as when she received it.
"I want each and every one of you to fuck her," she commanded. "But only up her ass! No one is to touch her cunt-except to fill it with cat food."