Devil's Fire

by Melissa MacNeal

  Hortense gasped. ‘But Father Luc —’

  ‘Why do you argue with me?’ he asked blandly. ‘Is it because you desire humiliation similar to Brother Christy’s? Or because you’re not wearing underthings?’

  She squawked like an enraged swan. ‘But I prepared myself especially for —’

  ‘For me?’ he said with an arrogant laugh. ‘I take my delight where I find it, Hortense. And I dearly love watching my subordinates endure the same punishments they dish out. Girls!’

  The abbot snapped his fingers at Sybil and me, grinning gleefully. As Mrs Goodin pivoted to challenge us with a self-righteous glare, I whispered, ‘This one’s mine, Sybil. Assist me as you will, but I want my revenge.’

  When we stood on either side of the housekeeper, Father Luc smiled down on us. ‘Mrs Goodin has foolishly hoped to capture my attention today, knowing it’s Mary Grace I favour. You chocolate-covered nymphs should put her in her place, just as she’s humiliated you in the past. No holds barred — and believe me, she craves chocolate even more than I.’

  While the abbot spoke words I’d yearned to hear, he was also aiming at me: once the forms came off our busts, and once our faces came clean, I would be his prey again — unless I found a way out before my unmasking. Yet I relished this opportunity.

  ‘Wouldn’t it be a shame, Mary Grace, if our laundress’s beautiful white gown got soiled before we could give it to Father Luc?’ I proposed in a throaty voice.

  ‘And think of her horror, dear Sybil, if she had to cleanse us without her lye soap.’

  I snickered. ‘Surely you’re mistaken, Sybil. I’m Mary Grace.’

  ‘Oh, that can’t be. My name is Mary Grace!’

  ‘I think we should stop quibbling and make a Goodin sandwich.’

  We moved in one fluid motion to catch Hortense between our chocolate bodies, Sybil undulating against her front while I wrapped my arms around her from behind. Mrs Goodin cursed, struggling between us — which smeared her gown even more. With the abbot’s laughter goading us on, my assistant unfastened the pearl buttons down her front while I held her tightly.

  ‘This is the most indecent waste of — Father Luc won’t want this gown once it’s ruined!’ she screeched.

  ‘Do you really think it’s the dress he’s after?’ I mocked. ‘He doesn’t impress me as the type to wear them.’

  ‘Oh yes, the abbot’s all man!’ Sybil chimed in. ‘What he really wants is to see you stripped and cleansed of your sins. Naked before your Master.’

  ‘Begging forgiveness for your adulterous ways.’ I tugged on the gown’s unbuttoned bodice to bare the housekeeper’s upper body. The seamstress in me refused to tear such a magnificent fabric, so I said, ‘Co-operate, Hortense. If you thrash about and rip this silk, the abbot will be sorely disappointed.’

  ‘And we all know he doesn’t handle disappointment well,’ my friend mimicked.

  Mrs Goodin stopped struggling. After Sybil handed the stained gown to Father Luc, we turned the housekeeper to face the congregation. For a woman her age, her body was remarkably firm, but as she stood there, wearing only her white stockings and opera pumps, Hortense shook until her pendulous breasts jiggled.

  ‘Why do I sense this woman isn’t quaking from shame?’ I asked loudly. ‘Could it be she secretly longs for the same degradation she hands out?’

  Our spectators chuckled, and a few of them clapped.

  ‘Like when she forced my legs apart, to watch Hyde’s juice ooze down my thigh?’ Sybil asked theatrically. ‘She clucked like a biddy hen, but I had the impression she wanted to lick that jism! And she wanted Father Luc to watch!’

  ‘And who are we to deprive her of her secret longings — eating hot twat, and gorging herself on chocolate!’

  Sybil flashed me a wicked grin, and we headed for the table. Hortense kicked and flailed between us, while the applause rose in volume, but her expression told of her rising excitement.

  ‘This is an outrage!’ she cried as we boosted her on to the table. ‘And you! You just mind your own business, Christopher!’

  I glanced over my shoulder. Brother Christy had shifted the wax object of his affections so he could watch his wife’s undoing. His cheeks shone with joy and he attacked his mannequin with renewed vigour when she landed on her back, with Sybil straddling her face.

  ‘Lick me clean,’ the russet-haired hellcat commanded. ‘Love me with that vicious tongue, until you’ve lapped up every drop of Ahmad’s spunk. If you pleasure me well, maybe I’ll let you kiss my arse for that chocolate you’re wanting. Get busy, bitch!’

  Mrs Goodin’s protest was muffled when Sybil pressed her pussy to the woman’s mouth, which brought another round of cheers. As I held the housekeeper’s tensing legs, I realised our hostage was glorying in this situation. I watched my friend’s delectable chocolate buttocks flexing, forcing Hortense to either struggle for air, or to strain towards the juicy, pink passion fruit Sybil tormented her with. Mrs Goodin’s sex glistened beneath her coiled, grey bush — and the sight of the sceptre I’d left on the floor inspired me further.

  ‘Here comes a chocolate cock!’ I crowed, cracking the long pole against the table’s edge to make it a manageable length. ‘Pretend it belongs to Father Luc. Live your dreams, Hortense.’

  I shoved the shaft between her legs, up a cunt that gripped it fiercely. Mrs Goodin groaned as I plied the chocolate rod up and around, torturing her clitoris with the hard candy jewels embedded at its rim. Just then, Sybil raised herself high enough that her victim had to reach desperately, tongue extended, to regain contact with the slick skin she was lapping at.

  My insides tightened: the sight of her pussy shaven clean, as I saw Sybil’s engorged folds fluttering like a butterfly above a bud, sent a surge of hot longing through me. I thrust the dildo into Goodin’s quivering cunt, redolent with melting chocolate and sex, until juice trickled down my own leg.

  I sprang on to the table to straddle the housekeeper, grasping Sybil’s waist to keep my balance. The watchers went wild when I found the chocolate cock, and then impaled myself upon it. I slid until I bumped Goodin’s bush, using it to cushion my thrusts. Seven heavenly inches of candy filled my passageway, so the woman I sat upon was that full, too. Recalling why I wanted to humiliate her, I shoved against her relentlessly.

  The sanctuary rang with a lusty roar while Sybil and I rode Hortense Goodin in tandem. Our two bodies pumped in time, forcing our captive to keep our beat at both ends. When our pace grew more frenzied, we tormentors became tormented, as well. The legs under mine curled around my backside, driving me at Goodin’s own delirious speed, so I gave myself over to hot chocolate decadence until we squirmed in release. Sybil, too, succumbed with a startling series of squeals, until she and I collapsed against each other.

  Our audience let out a collective sigh. Then all we heard were furtive gropings, and the rustle of clothing being shoved aside — and Brother Christy’s near-hysterical grunts. When Hortense shook beneath us, however, I realised she was laughing.

  ‘She enjoyed us too much,’ I muttered. ‘I have just the punishment in mind.’

  ‘Have your way with her, then. Any woman this incorrigible deserves whatever revenge you can wreak upon her.’

  Like a lithe chocolate frog, Sybil hopped over Mrs Goodin’s head and on to the floor. I dismounted, too, delighting in the brown, gooey mess we’d made of the monastery’s fastidious mistress.

  ‘What’re you doing?’ she asked warily.

  We helped her to a sitting position. ‘I guess you’ll find out, won’t you?’ Sybil quipped.

  ‘But you can’t leave me with this — this slop all over my face,’ Hortense cried, whimpering when we caught her hands to keep her from wiping it off. ‘It’s going to gush down my legs when I stand up, if you don’t —’

  ‘Tell your troubles to Jesus!’ I sang out. ‘Meanwhile, I think poor Elvira could use a hug. And by the sound of it, Mister Christopher’s about ready to shoot to the moon. High time
you allowed him his husbandly rights, don’t you think?’

  We had hardly escorted the horrified Hortense over to the kneeling mannequin, before Brother Christy grabbed her from behind. She had no choice but to brace herself against his wax creation and bend with him. With a torrent of ecstatic murmurings, the monk positioned his prodigious red erection and claimed his prize. The applause was deafening, mixed with calls of encouragement as the friar pumped her so hard his spectacles flew off.

  I glanced at Sybil, wondering what we could do next to distract the abbot. She squinted — and then so did I, half-blinded by a glare of light coming from above us. It was Elvira signalling us with the organ mirror. And beside her stood Hyde Fortune.

  Never in my life had I been so overjoyed. I didn’t care if he’d witnessed my debauchery against Mrs Goodin. Or that he saw me naked, except for my lewd breast casing and fruited boas, performing for all these people. I was finally going home with the man I loved!

  I yelped and ran across the sanctuary.

  ‘And now it’s time for the rest of us to have our fun!’ the abbot proclaimed behind me. ‘Off with their chocolate!’’

  Chapter Nineteen

  The Abbot Has His Way

  ‘No! Let me go! Let me out of here!’

  They fell upon me like a swarm of locusts. I could hear Sybil telling her kitchen assistants to get me out of the sanctuary, but she, too, had been caught up by the crowd. Our admirers, driven to their limits by the opium incense and our titillating behaviour, were too eager for a taste of us to allow our escape.

  When I managed a glance at the organ loft, Hyde had disappeared. Had he left me, disgusted? Or would he fight his way through this delirious mob to save what was left of my virtue? I’d remained faithful to him — if only by a dubious stretch of definition — and to see that shattered now, at the abbot’s whim, tore my heart out.

  The boa around my waist popped when two monks hoisted me from the floor. Brother Nolan, the orchard worker with the wondrous tongue, had ducked between my legs during the mayhem and was kissing his way up my honeyed thighs with a look of absolute bliss. I couldn’t see the mouths massaging my backside or the hands unfastening the cherries and grapes strung around my bust, but this frenetic energy frightened me. Rather than feeling pleasantly ravished or deliciously decadent, I was worried about being eaten alive. My entire body oozed honey and cocoa in the heat generated by all these people, and nougat was seeping from the bottom of my candy bust. When the chocolate shell cracked between my breasts, a wild cry arose from those who held me. My nightmare of becoming a living sacrifice had come true.

  ‘You’ve had your fun now. Carry her to the table.’

  It was Father Luc, demanding his due. The men who held me got in a few more licks, but then they bore me to the symbolic altar for my final rites. I was too frightened to cry. I had only myself to blame, for running towards Hyde in my happiness to see him. Desires had suddenly burgeoned beyond our control, and I couldn’t expect Sybil to intercede for me now.

  My aroused captors laid me on the table-top and then backed away like whipped puppies. As I watched the abbot approach, I understood why: stripped of his black cassock, he appeared several inches taller: a mighty, omnipotent god who commanded absolute obedience. His olive skin flexed as he walked, giving the appearance of a much younger man intent on having his way — a dark, disreputable master who could seduce the most reluctant woman with only a look.

  Black hair hugged his chest, descending in a vee towards the most provocative cock I’d ever seen. Not only did it jut proudly skyward, but it looked three inches thick. Its plum-shaped head shone such a lustrous pink I wondered if I could see my reflection in it — not that I’d try. The entire shaft bobbed ponderously as he walked, and when he stopped in front of me I stared at it with a mixture of curiosity and dread…and desire.

  ‘Patience, dear Mary. You’ll have every inch of that, in good time.’

  His arrogance brought me out of my trance. While some of the others took their pleasure with Sybil across the room, Father Luc appeared oblivious to the din in his scrutiny of me, the lamb finally brought to slaughter. His ebony beard glistened as his jaw clenched, pulling his moustache into a more malicious position. He crossed his arms upon his chest — to keep from grabbing me outright, I sensed — and continued to ravish me with his gaze.

  ‘Mine at last,’ he whispered, his nostrils flaring. ‘We’ll wait for Hyde, to make the consummation even more meaningful.’

  I was ready to spit at him, but a jolt of realisation stopped me. Those devilish eyes held mine with a mesmerising heat I’d often found familiar, but now I knew why: his irises glowed like hellfire. It was the same smouldering cinnamon of Hyde’s eyes, except far more potent. Hypnotic. Totally in control.

  ‘Luc, please. I’ll stand in for Mary Grace. I’ll do anything you wish, if you let her go.’

  The abbot’s head snapped towards Sybil’s voice. Her admirers had licked her clean and consumed the chocolate shell around her bosom, leaving her naked on the stage. ‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ he said. ‘I already have what I want from you.’

  ‘But she doesn’t belong here. She’s not like us.’

  ‘Nonsense. Mary Grace has taken to our ways like a swan to water. And everyone enjoys her immensely.’ He rested his erection against the edge of the table, a thoughtful sneer angling across his dark face. ‘You love her most of all, Sybil, so why are you eager to see her go? Planning to join her, perhaps?’

  ‘Of course not! It’s just —’

  The crack in her voice matched the one in my heart as Sybil poured out her soul.

  ‘— well, I think it’s wonderful that Mary Grace has found someone who truly loves her. I’m the soul of depravity, but I can’t keep her from a man like Hyde,’ she continued plaintively. ‘How different my life might be, had I found someone like Fortune before I came here.’

  Laughter began as a low rumble in Father Luc’s chest and then burst forth to fill the room. ‘How absolutely touching!’ he jeered. ‘But this fit of conscience is too little, too late, my dear. And here comes our would-have-been bridegroom to plead for his beloved, as well!’

  The sight of a bristling Hyde Fortune should’ve rallied my spirits, yet as the abbot placed a hand on my midsection to lay me flat, I closed my eyes in resignation. All the others had slunk towards the pews, fully aware of the power this man embodied.

  ‘I don’t know what the hell’s been going on here,’ Hyde bellowed, his footsteps a loud tattoo on the wooden floor, ‘but you’re going to release Mary Grace —’

  ‘Stand back!’ the abbot warned, pointing at him with a diabolical sneer. ‘You encouraged Miss Michaels to live among us, and you will now bear witness to a level of ecstasy few can attain, and only I can inspire. Watch her and weep, Fortune!’

  A collective gasp made my eyes fly open. Although the two men had not touched, Hyde now stood stunned, as though rendered helpless by some unseen bolt of lightning shot from Father Luc’s outstretched hand. He blinked, but had no further inclination to challenge the abbot. An eerie silence enveloped the sanctuary. Sybil sat down, and a rustling behind me indicated that Hortense and Brother Christy had taken themselves out of harm’s way, as well.

  My nemesis then turned his attention to me again. And as he gazed into my face, my body relaxed. I basked in the warmth from those eyes that glowed like coals — coals from the Devil’s own fire. Yet I no longer felt the need to resist.

  ‘Yes, dear Mary, entrust yourself to me,’ he murmured. ‘I loved you long before you came here, and have anticipated this moment with a joy you cannot comprehend. Be still, and let me show you what mere mortals miss.’

  In the last rational fragment of my mind, I knew I should fight this demon posing as a priest, but I hadn’t the strength. I felt serenely submerged in a womblike warmth that insulated me from all strife and shame, and I sensed this aura emanated from the abbot’s gaze as well as the hand that still rested on my abdomen. His smi
le reassured me, and I returned it.

  Father Luc then ran his fingers lightly along my sides. ‘Lie back and enjoy this, my sweet. This is my gift to you, that you may never regret surrendering yourself.’

  He began at the sole of one foot, taking it tenderly between his hands so he could kiss every inch of my skin. Where the others had devoured me like famished animals, the abbot lingered over each curve, lavishing his affection, taking only what remained of my cocoa coating for his own enjoyment. His tongue, warm and slightly rough, left a trail of tingling desire as he worked his way up my leg, until I simmered like a seductive love potion in a cosy pot.

  ‘Yes, close your eyes,’ he murmured when my lids got heavy. ‘Wonders beyond imagination will unfold, if you accept my magic.’

  What else could I do? I let out a blissful sigh, lost in the sense that time stood still and nothing mattered, save the sating of a desire that bubbled within me like fudge, sweet and rich and thick. Father Luc laved the length of my other leg and then gave my clitoris a teasing flick. ‘We’ll save the best for last,’ he whispered.

  With his fingertips he drew delightful lines, defining planes of erotic need along my sides and stomach. I squirmed with delight, seeing swirls of innocent pink behind my eyelids, feeling highly alive yet still so willfully submissive. The abbot’s smile was so warm I could feel it, like a sun at the centre of my personal universe. My limbs hung limp. My pulse accelerated with the passion he inspired, yet I instinctively knew to lie still and accept his gift. I stretched with the utter luxury of a cat, thrumming with sexual energy. So very, very content.

  He lifted away the chocolate casing around my breasts. ‘We’ll save this to enjoy later,’ he said, setting the two hardened halves aside. Then he wiped the nougat from my chest with a soft cloth, filling the air around us with the sweetness of the melted candy while spreading an even sweeter heat through my insides. My slit trickled and the folds around it twitched with need.