The Sexorcism of Miriam Flack (The Reluctant Exorcist)

by Graves, Violet

  “You weren’t kidding about that power thing,” she whispered. “I can feel the strength of ten men begging for release.”

  She slipped behind me. Her arms slithered around my torso—her limbs like vipers, her nails their fangs. She nibbled and pinched small bits of flesh between her teeth, eliciting quiet gasps. She did not draw blood but my skin grew hot under her bite. She slowly humped against my backside.

  She had the urge to fuck me like a man, I realized. She obviously approved of my submissive posturing. I would have eagerly allowed her entrance, had she the equipment. I flexed the muscles of my backside, pressing into her belly. Her hands sought my cock in what would have been a delightful reach-around had another of the same been shoved deep into my ass. The image increased my ardor and my heart galloped again.

  She chuckled, her breath hot and dry between my shoulder blades. “You like that, don’t you, sexorcist? You like these pretty little hands on your manhood. I bet you’d like to slip it into her right now.”

  “Yes,” I said.

  “Good.” She stood on her toes to whisper against the back of my neck. “I think that’s just what the uptight little bitch needs.”

  She wound around to the front of me again and kissed my nipples. Her manner was pragmatic. She flicked them with her fingers until she was satisfied with the pebbled texture. Then she grabbed my hips like a man would clutch a woman. She growled, softly, under her breath.

  “I want to suck the piss out of you.” She leaned forward and repeatedly touched her lips to my skin, lowering an inch with every dry kiss.

  I closed my eyes when her tongue trailed the line of dark hair that led to my groin. Her hands braced my hips harder as she slowly dropped the borrowed body to its knees. When settled, she grabbed my dick with one hand and darted out her tongue to lick the bead of juice at the tip. My foreskin had pulled back to reveal the slick, sensitive skin beneath. Her tongue was abrasive.

  “She doesn’t want to suck your dick.” The atavus spoke of the princess within. “You should hear her sobbing. I’m going to make her suck your dick.” Her mouth enveloped the head of my cock.

  Her tongue and lips were dry. The connection between us weakened. She tried to take me deeper but Miriam’s throat closed against intrusion. She jerked her head back and dry-spat to the side. She tried again but the flesh she occupied was not cooperating. She gripped my cock between her fists. She began yanking and kneading—pulling and reddening the skin.

  My cock was used to abuse and had borne far worse but we would get nowhere in this manner. I shrank by the barest millimeter.

  She noticed the difference at once. “Don’t you dare,” she said to my cock as though he were not at my command. “Don’t you fucking dare go limp on me.” She tried to spit on the tip but she could not even moisten the air in front of her mouth.

  “Your highness, the body you wear is dehydrated. You have been neglecting its physical needs. There is water on the dresser. Please, let me bring you a drink.” This was a chance I needed to take—integrating hydration and sustenance into our game would slow Miriam’s physical deterioration.

  “Shut up.” After another fruitless minute, in which my girth decreased yet again, she sat back and leaned against bed. “Fine, then. Bring me water.”

  I turned to walk towards the pitcher.

  “Stop,” she snapped. “I want you serving me on your hands and knees.”

  She made me fetch water several times, admiring my submissive posture as I crawled to and fro. Faint color returned to her pale skin as refreshed blood came up from the depths. She even ate some offered grapes and cheese that had remained untouched from her last meal. She looked visibly healthier.

  “Stand up,” she demanded from her seated position. “Stand before me and present yourself.”

  I did as instructed. She moved forward and grasped my dick in her hand. Her mouth was now wet and slick. She took the length of me down her throat in one smooth motion. I fisted my hands to refrain from grabbing her head. She worked my cock with vigor, sucking the shaft past her lips and down the long stretch of her neck. Her tongue curled and stroked the underside. One of her hands clutched my ass, urging me to thrust forward, while the other kneaded and pinched my balls.

  My cock swelled until her jaw could barely open wide enough to encompass him. She pulled back and my wet length bounced and slapped her chin as she released me. She licked up one side and then the other.

  “Magnificent,” she breathed as she admired me. “Your ridiculous tattoo is redundant. You most definitely carry a serpent in your pants.”

  One of my final initiations had been the tattoo of my totem on my… pole. I was required to maintain an erection during the process. I grew harder at the memory of the artist’s slender, delicate hands on my manhood.

  The creature made a sound of approval, halfway between a sigh and a moan. Then her eyes rolled back into her head. “Oh, you want it now, don’t you? You little whore.” She winced and her fingers tightened as she clamped down on the body’s animal reaction to the scene in which it participated. “No, not yet, bitch.”

  She raised her eyes and asked me, “When you experience full release, I will gain the strength of your ten men?”

  “You will experience the strength of them, yes.”

  She rose from her knees as though lifted by wires. “Then I will need more than her dainty mouth to bring forth your power.” She ran her hands down the length of her purloined body and pursed her lips as she took stock of the available orifices.

  After a moment of consideration, she turned and bent over the bed. She pressed her hands into the mattress and presented her backside like a mare. Her cunny winked at me.

  “Fuck her up the ass,” she demanded.

  Her pink and hungry sex clutched at the cool air. I longed to plunge deep into this place but the spirit was used to an expedient manner of anonymous sex. I believed she thought that I was an average sort of fellow, a man who—when presented with a tight, feminine channel—would be hard-pressed not to blow his wad within a few short, brutal strokes. The night would indeed be long if we continued in this manner.

  I stepped forward and placed my hands on her swelling buttocks. Brushed by faint welts and bruises, her flesh was soft as kidskin to the touch. My thumbs slipped into her crack and spread her cheeks to expose the dusk of her hole. I spit and hit the mark like a sniper.

  She flinched and glared back over her shoulder. “Did you just fucking spit on me?”

  “The entrance is dry.”

  She turned her face away and dropped her head. “Get on with it. The little bitch is pitching a fit in my head.”

  I placed my cock against her hole and pushed.

  “Stop,” she said. “Wait.”

  I stopped pushing but I maintained a light pressure, allowing me entrance by the millimeter. She flexed her buttocks. I inhaled through my teeth as her muscles clamped on my buried head. Her spine writhed and the circular motion of her hips tantalized me deeper.

  “Okay, try it now,” she said. Her tone was professional, as though she were a mechanic and I was to turn the key in the ignition at her request. I flexed my hips and eased in another half inch. I slid my hands up and over her ass and then up her spine. I grasped her shoulder with the left and moved the right around to her belly. I bent over her slender back and my fingers sought her cleft.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Attempting to make this more pleasurable for you.” My fingers found her clit. I rubbed in soft circles. The dry walls clenched tight on the first two inches of my cock. Her throat emitted a faint, high-pitched squeal. It sounded like a distant scream. She growled but the sound was not directed at me. There was an internal battle going on as she forced the princess to submit to the sodomy.

  “Odin’s Balls, just shove it in! This isn’t about her pleasure, meat slug.”

  I grit my teeth and fed my cock into her ass without mercy. I looked down and watched her anus reluctantly stretch to a
ccept the girth of me. She arched her back and made a guttural, animal sound. Her hands gripped the sheets like talons. When my pelvis met her soft ass, I clenched my jaw and pushed deeper still. I forced her lower body into the mattress. When I was firmly rooted in her dry depths, I began to slowly rotate my hips. I settled two fingers on either side of her clit so that my movements would tantalize the nub between them.

  “Wait,” she gasped. “Wait…”

  She put her face into the mattress and cried out. I felt the heat of her wet sex against my scrotum notch up by several degrees. While I plumbed the depths of her ass with my cock, I pressed my fingers deep into her pussy. The honey was rejuvenated and flowing now. I curled my fingers and kept her clit stimulated with the palm of my hand. I would give her a sip of pleasure with a clitoral aperitif before the main course was served. I am a considerate man.

  “Wait. I don’t- something is happening. I don’t know what is happening. I feel like we have to pee,” she whined.

  “If you must, then—”

  “Shut up, you disgusting shit.” She tried to roll over in a half-hearted attempt to dislodge me but I had her firmly pinned on my cock. She could have used her mighty strength to toss me to the side—snapping my dick from its base—but she did not. She squirmed and writhed on the length of me as Miriam’s autonomic nerves began to fire. She bleated like a lamb.

  “Have I lost the battle all ready?” she gasped as the tiny shock waves of pleasure and the throbs of pain flexed her pelvic muscles.

  “No.” I ground against her ass. She was experiencing the smallest of appetizers. This orgasm would be mild in comparison to the kind needed for extrication. I kept my subtle movements in harmony with the pulsing in her groin until she came into my hand. The orgasm was short and sweet; she crooned as the delight passed through her body. When the pleasure faded, she lifted her head and craned her neck to look back at me.

  “I’m still here,” she pointed out, a wicked gleam in her eye.

  “It will take far more than this minor shudder to expel you.” My breath hissed out when I pulled my cock from her depths.

  She groaned as her bowels were emptied. “That was marvelous.”

  Her spine flexed with relief. She rolled over onto her back and sat up, pulling her knees to her chest. She looked delighted even though she’d effectively lost this round. “I can appreciate this sort of battle. What next, sexorcist?”

  I was in for a hard day’s night.

  Chapter Ten

  A Small Break

  The demon did not tire as quickly as I had hoped. They rarely do. The creatures can pull on the subtle energies of the earth’s electromagnetic field. This is not, however, enough power—the right kind of power—to ensure a lock on their victim. If the creature pushed its stolen body into death, I would be left with the equivalent of an animated corpse that could make short work of me before absconding altogether in search of another host. If she did not tear me limb from torso, the prince would most likely have me suffer an unfortunate accident when he found the violated body of his wife at my feet.

  The demon preferred the combination of pleasure and pain induced by the activity of sodomy and we spent several hours pursuing this particular course—with occasional breaks for refreshment at my insistence. Her body healed rapidly and her bowels were clean and empty as every scrap of food taken in was thoroughly digested and absorbed before anything could reach her lower intestines.

  At times, the demon’s physical passion inspired levitation and I would find myself clinging to a bedpost in an attempt to tether our fleshy dirigible or I would grip the body of the princess herself as we drifted away from the relative safety of the mattress and hovered instead fifteen feet over the cold stone floor.

  The sun dipped and the shadows deepened as darkness approached. Using her ethereal control of the elements, the demon made the cold torches set in the walls burst to life and our sex was lit with flames.

  At one point, while she was standing on the bed, bent at the hips and clinging to one of the surviving posts while I lustily fucked her asshole, she emitted a bored belch.

  “Are you bored?” I asked.

  “So very bored,” she replied.

  “Would you like me to stop?”

  “No, but I would like you to finish.”

  I chuckled. “That would mean your death.”

  “It would mean yours,” she corrected.

  “Perhaps, if you gave me access to another place within her body, a place far more delicious than where I am right now—”

  “No,” she said. “No.”

  “It could be my downfall.” I reached between our bodies and stroked up the slick path streaming down the inside of her thigh. Her exhausted clit fluttered against the pad of my thumb. “I might lose control.” My fingers slipped, as if by accident, into her warmth.

  “Stop it! Don’t do that!” She slammed her hips backwards. I grabbed her waist to keep her from whirling around with my dick still deep in her body. I pulled free and stepped away. Was the princess so near the surface that her thoughts were influencing the creature? This could be a good sign, but the loss of access to that entrance would limit the potential opportunities to bring her body to the powerful orgasm required for exorcism.

  “This is tiresome,” the atavus whined. “Now I’m tired and bored.”

  “Perhaps another break is in order,” I suggested and stepped from the bed to fetch some grapes.

  “I think you’re right,” she said. “About a break being in order.”

  She snapped her fingers.

  The smallest toe on my left foot snapped at the same moment. The pain scorched up my leg and radiated into my groin. I stumbled but did not fall.

  “You cannot win this battle,” she said. “Give up this ridiculous exorcism now and I will reconsider my decision to kill you when this is all over. You have proven yourself to be an adventurous lover. Perhaps we can work out an arrangement—a companionship of sorts. I will pretend to be the princess and you will pretend to be the victor. We will leave the tower together. No one will know the truth.”

  “A hopeless ruse. There are modern methods to determine if a specter still controls a human host.”

  She snapped her fingers again and the smallest toe on my other foot skewed at an awkward angle. I blanched and staggered back to sit heavily on the mattress. My feet throbbed—as did my cock. She knew nothing of my dark fetish so I kept my ardor in check.

  “I think you might want to reconsider,” she advised. “The way I see it, I win no matter what. If you are not successful, I get to keep this body. If you are successful, I simply move on to someone else.”

  “That is incorrect.”

  She waggled a finger. “That’s the problem with your kind and your mortal superstitions. You think you banish us, but you simply set us free. This ain’t my first rodeo, cowboy. I’ve been spit out more times than a sailor’s spunk and I keep coming back.”

  “As I advised you earlier in the night, you won’t be coming back from this one.”

  “How do you figure?”

  “I will trap you inside of my body and deliver you to a facility that has the ability to rehabilitate your demented soul. Technology has made us gods of a kind. This power over life, death, and life again may eventually be our downfall but, for now, you are at our mercy.”

  “Speaking of mercy,” she said. “I don’t have any.”

  Thus, she began to cause me pain, which was followed by a great deal more pain that lasted for quite some time.

  Chapter Eleven

  Her Slender Neck

  I was suspended and bound with invisible ropes of power, trussed in an expert fashion that implied the spirit was familiar with the erotic art of Kinbaku. Both of my heads bulged with blood and the ensuing delirium was delightful. Sweat dripped from my chest onto her upturned face.

  “I’m starting to think you like this,” she observed.

  “I suffer from a nerve disorder.” I gasped from my g
reat height. Exhaustion and agony had rendered my will malleable and I could not refrain from answering when questioned. “My body often confuses pain with pleasure.”

  “You have many bones left to break,” she reminded me. “I’ve focused on the tiny ones in an effort to keep you in service but I’m not above turning them all to dust if we cannot come to some sort of agreement.” She reached up and softly thwacked my throbbing cock.

  A breeze stirred the air, cool against my shuddering skin. My brain might be confusing pleasure and pain, but my body knew the difference and was slipping into shock. I would pass out if the erotic torture did not relent. I did not like the thought of being unconscious in her presence.

  She flashed me a red-carpet smile. “I have an idea.”

  She held up one of Miriam’s hands, moving it towards me with graceful little waves and undulations, swimming it closer to my reddened face. Then she grabbed the pinky of that hand with the other and snapped the finger at the base. The face flinched despite the dazzling expression.

  The creature displayed the unfortunate angle of Miriam’s smallest finger. “Now imagine I’ve already broken all of her fingers and toes,” she said. “Then I started on her arms and legs. Then I made her dance like a ballerina on her broken limbs. Do you think she would appreciate that? Do you think, maybe, she would rather die?”

  She placed her hands on the sides of her head, thumbs along the jaw, her broken pinky extended in an awkward yet delicate manner. “Tell me how to finish you or—in an act of the purest mercy—I will twist her pretty little head right off her slender neck. Then I will hop on down to that leggy little Lady downstairs and scream for help because the rapist has just murdered Her Highness.”

  “The Lady is too strong for you.”

  “Then the prince, perhaps. His grief at the sight of wifey’s battered body will certainly weaken his defenses for a moment or two. That’s all I need. I can slip right in and lay low for a while, influencing the aftermath. He will have you executed for her murder.” She giggled. “There will be no jury.”