Father Wilkins eyed the pitiful sight on the bed and tutted.

“Again so soon, Camilla? This is the second exorcism you’ve required this month alone.”

The young woman kneeling in front of him–fully nude, wrists and ankles strapped to the bedposts, her chastity belt already removed by one of the nuns overseeing her care–flushed with shame, as well she should. Her plump, rosy lips shined with slick fluid between her legs. If he were to turn her over, he was sure he would discover her sinful little erogenous zone fully hard and twitching in a foul parody of male arousal.

“I’m sorry, Father.”

“Well, we did know you would be a project when we agreed to take you on,” he sighed. Camilla had been working the streets for a short time, beginning around her twenty-first birthday; by her twenty-second, one of the nuns had managed to reach her and convince her to reclaim her God-given purity. But the road to salvation had been bumpy indeed for the young woman, and after consulting with texts and with a demonologist, Father Wilkins had concluded that Camilla had become the prey of an especially tenacious succubus.

“Tell me, what drives you to me today?”

“I have these…dreams, Father.”

“Ahh. The demon attacks your soul in sleep, when you are weakest,” he said, approaching the bed and sitting down. Camilla shivered and bit her lip, as if just the feeling of the mattress dipping below his weight was enough to stoke her sinful desires. “Control yourself, girl. Have you been saying your prayers before bed?”

“Yes! Yes, every night, I swear!”

“And yet you still have these dreams. Are you certain you’re praying with a true heart? Are you truly ready to welcome Christ and be delivered?” he asked gravely. She bit her lip again, but didn’t respond. “You must think on that,” he urged her. “Christ can only save you from the influence of this demon if you allow him to do it.”

“Yes, Father,” she whispered.

“Now tell me about these dreams.”

“They’re…they drive me mad. I dream of–of those men.”

“Making use of your body,” he supplied, and she nodded, her cheeks flushed with shame, as well they should be.

“Yes. And last night…” she hesitated, licked her lips.

“Yes, Camilla? You must tell me everything if I’m to help you find your way through this dark hour.”

“Yes, Father. Last night I–I dreamed of you.”

“Of me?” he demanded, frowning down at her. She ducked her head in embarrassment and nodded.

“I dreamed that you were–exorcising me–and then you reached down and played with my, my sinful area, and I dreamed that you told me I should come.”

“Did you have an orgasm during this dream, Camilla?” he asked severely. She shook her head quickly.

“No, Father, I swear I didn’t! The belt protected me, like you said it would.”

“That’s right. Now, we’ve talked about this, Camilla. We don’t call a woman’s orgasm ‘coming’. Why is that?”

“A man’s coming is necessary for procreation.”

“That’s correct. And, in His infinite wisdom, did God make a woman’s orgasm necessary for procreation?”

“No, Father.”

“Exactly, Camilla. Women can’t truly come. What you recall experiencing is the agony of sin, inspired in you by those men who used you and the demon that your fallen status attracted,” he said. He placed a hand on the back of one of her thighs, and felt the woman shiver under his touch. “We’ll save you from these sinful cravings yet, Camilla, I promise you, if you only work for it. Have you anything else to tell me before we begin?”

She bit her lip, then said, “I…I tried. When I woke from the dream, I suppose I was still under the influence of the demon, and I tried to get the belt off. And then I…I tried to press on my stomach.”

“On your stomach?” he asked, confused. She nodded, flushed with shame.

“Below my belly button. It feels…good.”

“Hm,” he said, frowning, and slipped a hand beneath her body, where he usually avoided entirely during their time together. The soft skin of her stomach fluttered ticklishly away from his hand as she inhaled sharply. “Control yourself, now, Camilla. Here? Is this the spot you mean?” He rested his hand firmly just below her belly button.

The girl bit back a groan and then said, her voice shaking, “yes, Father. If I press and rub there, sometimes it feels as if I could co–experience an orgasm. From that. But I didn’t! I stopped, I swear!”

“I see,” he said, not bothering to hide how this information disturbed him. “I’ll speak with the nuns on this matter, Camilla, and instruct them to keep a closer eye on you. You’re pressing on your womb, one of the most holy parts of your body, where God intends for you to manifest the miracle of childbirth. If the demon has perverted even this place for you, that is dire news indeed.”

“Yes, Father,” she whispered, her eyes dampening. “I’m sorry, Father.”

“As well you should be. I know it may feel as if this is all the fault of the demon residing within you, but you were the one who invited it when you embraced a life of sin,” he said severely. The girl ducked her head and nodded. “Perhaps the nuns will need to begin binding your hands when you sleep. I’m worried for your soul when you remain unsupervised.”

“I understand, Father.”

“Good. Now, I believe we should begin.”

He stood and moved behind Camilla again, to where her sinful thoughts were written across her body with every twitch and glisten of that area that only her husband should ever have seen. Father Wilkins tutted again at the sight of it and withdrew the switch from his pocket. “Shameful. Ten lashes first, Camilla. Count for me, please.”

“Yes, Father,” she said, and then sucked in a sharp gasp as the switch fell across her plump rear. “One. Two. Th-three.” Her voice began to shake with the beginning of tears as thin lines of red marked where the switch had touched her. “Four. Five. Ow, ow, ow, Father, please, I’m so sorry.”

“I am not the one you need to apologize to,” he reminded her, pausing and eyeing her rump critically, tutting as he watched her defiled hole clench as if the demon within her found her suffering exciting. “It is God that you have sinned against. Continue counting, Camilla.”

“Yes, Father. Six. Seven. Eight, ohh,” she whimpered and sniffled as the switch landed across an especially sensitive patch of skin near her thighs. “Nine. Ten.”

“There. That’s the difficult part finished,” he said, placing the switch apart. Camilla hung her head a bit, as if she disagreed, and he sighed. “The exorcisms would not be such an ordeal for you, Camilla, if you would truly devote yourself to ridding yourself of the demon’s influence. I know that you are not. I know you wish, even now, for the sinful pleasure of orgasm.”

She shook her head and tried to wipe the tears from her face with her bound hands. “No, Father, I swear! Well–sometimes, during the exorcism, and after those dreams…but I understand that it’s only the influence of the demon, Father, and whenever I have the thought that I want to co–to experience an orgasm, I pray for God to forgive me.”

“Hm,” he said with begrudging approval. “Perhaps our lessons are having an impact after all. Very well. We’ll begin. Please brace yourself, and remember to warn me if you feel in danger of being overwhelmed by sin.”

“Yes, Father,” she whispered tearfully, then bit her lip hard as he slid two fingers just inside the lips of her sopping sex. He remained as far back as he reasonably could, circling her clenching hole without penetrating it, gathering up the fluids that seeped out. Once his fingers were properly coated, he moved them up to the girl’s winking anus–cleaned by the same nuns who had prepared her for the exorcism–and pressed one of the fingers in, opening up her passage and lubricating it with her own fluids.

Camilla went a little too quiet. Holding her breath, no doubt, to prevent being scolded for making licentious noises in response to her ass being opened up. Father Wilkins shook his head.

He worked his finger in and out of her passage a few times, then added the second one, stretching her just enough to be sure that she wouldn’t be harmed without providing any extra fuel for the Hell-fire the demon had lit in her body. Even so, when he withdrew his fingers and turned his attention back to her sex, she was even wetter than before, lines of fluid running down the inside of her thigh. “Camilla,” he said, exasperated, and she whimpered.

“I’m sorry, Father. I can’t–I can’t help it, it just happens.”

“It does not just happen. Do you think any of the other girls in the care of the nuns would react this way if I were to touch their anus?”

She hung her head. “No, Father.”

“No. They would be disgusted at the very idea.” He sighed. “Just a moment, girl, allow me to prepare myself.”

He undid his robes and pulled out his cock, stroking it to hardness in spite of the pathetic, quivering sight in front of him, which didn’t inspire a single lustful feeling in him. Then he rolled on a condom.

“Prepare yourself,” he warned her, and she nodded.

He stepped forward and held her hip with one hand, preventing the demon from forcing sin on her, and used the other hand to guide himself into her defiled hole. Despite the use it had seen, it was still very tight–the work of the demon, no doubt–and it grasped around him over and over as he fed himself slowly, carefully, into it.

As he expected, this was the point at which Camilla could no longer hold her tongue. “Oh. Oh, oh, Father, oh,” she whispered, her whole body shivering as he crept, inch by precious inch, into her body, moving slowly so as not to stoke the fires within her. Even so, he was only halfway in before she cried out, “Father, stop, I’ll co–I’ll have an org–oh, it’s coming–“

He pulled out immediately, and frowned down at her gaping hole as it contracted several times, the demon trying to entice him back in. “Exercise some self-restraint, girl, please. I need to be well-lubricated before we can begin the exorcism.”

“I’m trying,” Camilla exclaimed, her voice breaking. “It’s so difficult, Father, it feels so–so empty all the time, and when you fill it–“

“Quiet,” he said sharply. “This is the demon talking. The only emptiness you feel is the lack of God’s light in your life. Repeat that back to me.”

“Yes, Father. The only–oh!” she was interrupted as he began to feed his member into her again, even more slowly this time.

“Go on.”

“The–the only emptiness I feel is the, the lack of God’s light, in my life.”

“Good. The female orgasm is a sinful manifestation of affliction. Repeat that.”

“The, the female orgasm is a sinful manifestation of–oh, Father–” she gasped as he reached the halfway point and kept going, slowly spreading her twitching sex on his cock.

“Camilla.”

“The-female-orgasm-is-a-sinful-manifestation-of-affliction,” she gasped out in a rush, and then groaned. Her thighs were shaking, as if it was an effort to remain kneeling. “Oh, Father, the demon is so strong, it’s burning me inside. Please, please save me, I can’t stand it, it’s making me think the most sinful thoughts!”

Father Wilkins grimaced and then, deciding it was worth the risk, he shoved the final inch into the girl, embedding himself in her. She inhaled sharply and went very still, her silken tunnel clenching down on him as she battled her body’s attempted sin.

She finally relaxed and exhaled shakily, and he pulled out of her again. “Please, Father,” she mumbled.

“Please what, Camilla?”

“Please, if you’re going to do that, could you…warn me? I almost couldn’t stop it that time.”

“I expect you to control yourself, girl,” he said severely, and she sniffed and whimpered, then shivered as he pressed his cock now at her anus. “We will now exorcise the demon.”

“Yes, Father, please,” she begged. He pressed into her slowly here, as well, although now more out of fear of hurting her; her anus was even tighter, which was as intended. His goal was to finish quickly, to trick the demon within her to believe it was getting what it wanted and make it vulnerable to the rites of the exorcism. Her body clenched tightly around him over and over as the demon tried to encourage the wretched girl to seek pleasure even in this base act.

Once he was fully seated in her, he paused and instructed, “Camilla, pray.”

The woman took a breath, then began to recite in Latin. In response, Father Wilkins rocked his hips in small increments, seeking only the barest pleasure for himself to push him towards completion without stimulating the girl over-much. Even so, her body began to clench more vigorously around him, as if attempting to press his member through the wall of the anus and down into her sex, where the demon so wanted men to spill their seed.

Father Wilkins began to pray, too, his voice joining Camilla’s in a quiet, droning chorus. When he began to pull out and press into her in deeper strokes, Camilla went silent for a moment, then whispered to herself, “God, please forgive me,” before hiccuping and resuming the rites. Father Wilkins frowned and considered demanding to know whether she’d had a moment of weakness and wished for an orgasm, but the ritual was close to completion; there was no point in delaying further.

His voice remained steady throughout, even as he thrust into her with more vigor and Camilla’s began to fade, replaced by the gasps and whimpers and other animal noises of the demon within her. By the time he finally spilled into the condom with a quiet grunt, her body was tight as a vise on him, trying to milk his seed from him, and Camilla was panting and moaning. He pulled out and examined the mess of her as he removed the condom, tutting as he saw the long lines of fluid dripping from her twitching sex down to the bed.

“Camilla, what a mess you’ve made.”

“Oh, God,” Camilla groaned, rocking her hips slowly, “please forgive me, God, please forgive me.”

“Are you craving an orgasm, Camilla?” he asked sharply.

“I can’t stop thinking about it, Father. God, forgive me, forgive me. I can’t stop thinking about the dream, what you said in the dream.”

“That wasn’t me in the dream, Camilla. I would never tell you that you should seek an orgasm. Women’s pleasure exists only to tempt you to sin,” he said sternly, but he wasn’t sure she even heard him; the girl continued to rock her hips and plead feverishly for forgiveness, her agitated sex drooling down her thighs. “Camilla! Calm yourself!”

“I can’t, Father, I can’t. It burns so terribly. All I can think about is how wonderful it would feel to sin, and how empty I feel without you inside me. God, forgive me, forgive me.”

“Camilla, the only emptiness you feel is the lack of God’s light!”

“The only emptiness I feel is the lack of God’s light. Oh, oh. God forgive me,” she groaned, rolling her hips in a lewd evocation of the act that the demon wanted her to perform. “Forgive me. I want to come. Forgive me, forgive me.”

“Women do not come. Repeat that, Camilla.”

“Women do not come, Father. Forgive me. God forgive me. Oh, but I want it so badly!”

Father Wilkins frowned, watching the heated girl writhe on the bed. This was a much poorer response than any she’d had in the past, and he could only conclude that this latest dream, the one where the demon had offensively taken his own shape when appearing to her, was an attempt by the demon to undermine the exorcism process.

“Camilla, describe this dream to me again,” he demanded.

“Forgive me, God,” she groaned. “In the dream, Father–in the dream–you reach between my legs and rub the spot where I sin, and you tell me to come.”

“Women don’t come, Camilla.”

“Yes, yes, Father, I know, but that’s how you say it in the dream. Oh, God, forgive me.”

Father Wilkins considered this for a long moment, frowning. He did have one technique that had been suggested by the Reverend Mother, a severe woman who even the most well-behaved girls were frightened of, that he had not tried for fear he might not execute it correctly. But if that was the only way to drive the demon from the girl’s writhing body…

“Very well. If that is what the demon makes you desire,” he said, and stepped behind her again. “This occurs during the exorcism, in your dream?”

“Yes, Father, while you’re inside me. Oh!” Camilla shouted in surprise as he slid two fingers into her anus once more and began thrusting them in a slow rhythm. “Father, what–God, God, please forgive me–” her words were cut off in a sharp gasp as his other hand brushed over her stomach. “Father! You can’t!”

“We must educate the demon, Camilla, on the purpose of a woman’s pleasure,” he said grimly, and placed a finger firmly on the plush little organ he usually so carefully avoided. Camilla shouted in surprise, her hips jerking as the demon seduced her into rutting against his finger like an animal.

“Father! Father, I won’t be able to hold it! Oh, oh, you need to stop, you need to stop touching it now!”

“No, Camilla. I want you to do it. I want you to come. Tell me when it happens, the instant it happens, you hear me?”

“Father,” she gasped in wretched confusion and desperation, her hips jerking as she worked herself back on his fingers, rubbed her sinful pleasure into his hands. “Oh, oh, God forgive me, I’m going to–I’m having a–I’m coming, Father, I’m coming! Please!”

As soon as her body tipped over the edge, Father Wilkins whipped away both of his hands, leaving Camilla screaming and jerking against the cold air as the ruined orgasm ravaged her body without leaving any pleasure behind, her gaping hole seizing and drooling on nothing in a confused flutter. “Father,” Camilla sobbed as her voice returned to her. “Oh, no.”

“How did that compare to the dream, Camilla? Was that the orgasm the demon made you crave?”

“No, Father. Oh, it was awful,” Camilla sobbed, tears streaming down her face. “It hurts. Why? Why did it feel that way? It’s always felt so wonderful before, and it’s been so long, I thought…”

“Because the demon is lying to you, Camilla,” he reminded her, wiping his fingers clean on the bedspread. “I’ve told you. The only pleasure you remember is a trick. Women’s orgasms do not come from God, and if you embrace God, you will find no love for them.”

“I…I understand, Father,” she sobbed weakly.

“Do you think you will continue struggling with your desire for an orgasm?”

“No, Father. No, I don’t want to feel that again.”

“Good.” He patted her hip. “I’ll send in the sisters to clean you up and put you back in the belt, but that’s very good, Camilla. I think we’ve turned a corner in your treatment.”

“Yes, Father. Thank you, Father.”