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from it and tickle your folds like cold sweat in an even colder place. Your muscles clench and release. You want it.”
    Elizabeth’s eyes read like an open book. Her body squirmed for him as he sat next to the nun in the pew before her.
    Sister Margaret had such talent. The devil lifted her habit and pushed it high, exposing curves and flesh created for sin. Kneeling behind her, he raised her pretty ass and parted her buttocks. She sucked on Thomas like a prostitute of ill repute. The devil slid his tongue up her crack and tasted her. Her moans affirmed her pleasure.
    “Please, my Lord, fuck your whore.”
    “Ah, such wanton sin from God’s own bitch.” Slipping his tongue out once more, he savored her sweet cunt, lapping at it, tugging at the dripping labia. When he was satisfied, he pulled back. “I think, sister, Father Thomas is more deserving. Sit on him and ride him until he fills you with his salty seed.”
    Margaret wriggled and stood, hoisting her habit high over her head until she wore only her crucifix.
    Asmodeus laughed. He rose and stood on the pew close to Thomas, who now held Margaret by the waist. She bounced on him, needing the sex as much as he did. She rode him hard, her breasts mesmerizing as they moved with beautiful fluidity against the priest’s chest. The devil ran his hand down her back, down the sweet curve of her ass and then fingered her tight anus.
    Margaret moaned in delight as her Lord unleashed his lust. His zipper slid down on its own and her hand slipped inside, pulling out the devil’s cock.
    “Oh yes, God loves dick. Stroke it, put it in your mouth.”
    Margaret did as she was told, fucking her priest while sucking her lord.
    The devil had no ordinary phallus. It was huge and ridged with a swollen crown even males would envy. Margaret served him well, taking it almost whole down her throat.
    “Your body desires lust, Elizabeth.” He could feel it, as if they were one, linked together by centuries of long-dead souls. He wanted her, just as he had wanted her female ancestors before her, but he wanted her more. Elizabeth had tremendous desire but what really tempted him was her true nature, her strong will, the need to fight him and win, to be free. Turning to look at her, he saw that her eyes were filled with disgust, yet her body needed every ounce of the sexual tang that filled the great hall. He reached and touched her hair. Soft like silk, it had a tinge of dampness as the sweat caressed her brow and spread through the tender locks.
    “Look at me, Elizabeth. See how Margaret sucks on my dick. You can’t deny how your body reacts. You want it, and you crave it. You want to taste, to suck it, to feel the hard blood-filled flesh against your lips and throat. Your pussy clenches at the very idea of it between your thighs, rubbing along the ridge of your swollen mounds, before I ease it in that sweet crevice, deep in your pink slit. You want to feel it stretch you as my hands slide over your skin and grip you. You crave me, my hard shaft sliding deep inside you, pounding and pumping you until I shoot my devil’s seed into your needy womb.”
    Laughter and sex-derived moans filled the halls as he felt Elizabeth’s struggle with his demonic grip. She fell away, her fist clenched at her sides as she found her body hers once more. Asmodeus winked at her as she ran.

Chapter Three
    ––––––––
    P anic.
    It thrummed through her body like a living thing. Elizabeth’s heart punched at her chest to the point of aching. Everything she thought she believed was a lie. She released a violent sob as she rounded a corner and slammed into Mother Superior Theresa.
    “My dear, good gracious, what is happening? Why are you sweating and running?” The sister reached for Elizabeth and she released a squeal and tried to run back.
    Strong arms grabbed onto her wrist. Elizabeth turned around quickly and tried to shove away from the woman. The heat of her salty tears made her cheeks itch