Sexorcist

The young novice timidly entered the semi-darkness of the study, her huge green eyes darting around with fear and curiosity from under a lush golden fringe that cascaded in a coquettish wave from beneath the black, white-trimmed monastic veil. Dark wood bookcases disappeared into the darkness near the ceiling, a monumental desk pressed a long-pile carpet into the parquet, and heavy emerald drapes tangled the remnants of light in their folds. Opposite her, with his arms folded across his chest and leaning slightly against the desk, stood the Inquisitor. His face was immobile and stern, the white inset of his collar shining arrogantly and impartially. And he did not offer his hand

for a kiss, which was already a very bad sign.

The novice's slender, perfectly manicured fingers fidgeted with the hem of her mini-habit, which barely covered the curves of her buttocks; her long legs, sheathed in fishnet stockings, shifted nervously, buckling on twenty-centimeter stripper heels. Her already prominent, snow-white, round, enormous breasts, spilling from a deep décolletage, practically jutted out with every agitated breath, threatening either to tear the black silk of the habit or to break free from its confines.

The Inquisitor remained silent, menacingly.

"The monastery is full of rumors," he finally said. "You have drowned in sin."

"Oh, that's a lie, Holy Father!" the novice babbled.

"Silence! I can see sin from a hundred meters away. And you, Laura, are mired in it. Sin oozes from you, just like your depraved flesh!!!" the Inquisitor snarled furiously, jabbing his finger at Laura's full, pliantly firm, painfully corset-squeezed tits. "And your sin is pride," he paused for a second, took a deep breath, and roared: "How dare you, upon entering my presence, remain standing?! On your knees!!!"

Gasping, Laura fell prostrate, stretching her arms far forward. Her elegant back arched, the skirt of her mini-habit rode up to her waist, revealing charming round buttocks crossed by the narrow strap of a thong. Her loose hair escaped from under the veil and spilled over her back, shining gold against the black silk; her enormous breasts, flattened against the floor, protruded appetizingly on either side of her slender body. Whimpering and crying, the girl pounded her forehead against the floor.

"Sinner! Sinner! Sinner!" thundered the Inquisitor from above, slowly circling the prostrate body. Once behind her, he stopped for a long time, examining the appetizing ass with displeasure. The thong had slipped between the girl's labia and gotten lost within them, as if her pussy had bitten the strap with its plump lips and was now actively drooling on the fabric—moisture, darkening the strap, spread up and down the light blue panties.

"They say in the monastery that you lead men into sin," the Inquisitor said to the pussy.

"That's a lie, Holy Father!" Laura cried into the floor.

"Oh, no!" Father Inquisitor continued his circuit of the trembling girl's body, his gaze sliding over the curves of her slender waist, the rounded swell of her breasts protruding from under her body, the golden curls so aesthetically spilled over the black silk of the habit, and, of course, lingering on the gleaming white, round, firm buttocks. "They say you seduce them with your very appearance."

"But you yourself bought these habits for us from a sex shop," the novice whined.

"Correct. Because you must realize every minute that you are depraved by your very existence. By your very flesh, you, a woman, are sin incarnate!"

"But in these habits, every man we meet desires us!"

"And with your entire appearance, all your behavior, your whole face, you must demonstrate how pure, unattainable, and holy you are! You should radiate such spirituality that men would instantly lower their sinful organ!... Ahem. I meant—their eyes."

He stopped in front of the girl:

"And to confirm my point, you are ashamed to look me in the face. Look me in the eyes!"

Laura fearfully raised her head. The Inquisitor stared thoughtfully at the breasts now revealed to him, flattened against the floor and resiliently protruding, right into the invitingly dark hollow between them:

"Well, of course... With such a whorish face, how is it even possible to show men holiness?"

"But you yourself force us to wear heavy makeup!"

The Inquisitor looked sternly at the girl's beautiful, slightly upturned little face.

"Correct. Because the bride of Christ must be like an angel in her beauty. And you must learn to portray haughtiness. Inaccessibility. Otherwise, you burn with those green eyes like a lustful cat! And how do you walk, for God's sake?! I saw how you entered here with the gait of a harlot!"

"But you yourself imposed the perpetual penance of 'High Heels' on me!" cried the bare-bottomed novice, frozen in a kneeling-elbow position. "So that I would feel discomfort with every step and not forget that I walk on sinful earth."

"Yes, but I didn't teach you to wiggle your ass while doing it!"

"But it's impossible to walk any other way on such heels! Only—one foot in front of the other, one foot in front of the other. Like a fashion model! You yourself taught me that when you chained my legs together for three months."

"I chained you so you wouldn't gallop around like a mare! You ruined five pairs of heels! And those, by the way, cost money!" the Inquisitor caught his breath. "The monastery is full of rumors. They say you seduced pious husbands with your bare breasts for two weeks!"

Laura almost choked with indignation:

"But you yourself imposed the penance of 'Shame' on me! For two weeks, I had to walk with my tits falling out of my décolletage so everyone would stare, and I would feel ashamed. Because shame and suffering purify the soul."

"Yes, but the penance didn't say you should shove your tits in everyone's face with your hands!"

The novice pouted, her plump lips twisting, and large, transparent tears streamed down her firm cheeks again:

"My breasts are very heavy... It hurts when they bounce... I held them so they wouldn't bounce."

"Straighten up," ordered the Inquisitor.

Laura immediately straightened up on her knees and even spread her shoulders—her enormous breasts stretched the black silk to transparency. The columns of her nipples and areolar bumps were clearly visible.

"Show me how you walked."

Ashamed, the girl blushed and lowered her eyelids; her long, upward-curving lashes lay on half her cheeks. Her hands obediently slid into her décolletage. Her breasts were so large that she extracted them in three stages. And now they tumbled out and swung freely—enormous, but youthfully firm. Huge pink areolas stretched into nipple buttons that looked just slightly downward. Laura gently took her breasts in her hands (they spread in her palms and between her fingers like resilient dough) and offered them to the Inquisitor, as if for a kiss.

"Like this."

Then, as if placing them on a shelf, she rested her breasts on her right arm bent at the elbow. They hung heavily outward.

"And like this."

The Inquisitor nodded gloomily to his thoughts:

"Truly, woman is Satan's main weapon."

Laura blushed more deeply and began hurriedly tucking her tits back into her décolletage.

"Leave them," the Inquisitor interrupted her. "Let you still be ashamed."

Laura pulled the half-hidden breasts back out and turned away in embarrassment, putting her hands behind her back, which made her tits jut out beautifully. They seemed embarrassed too, looking with their nipples to the sides and slightly down. The Inquisitor devoured the novice's breasts with a blazing dark gaze:

"Despicable flesh. This is what you tempted the sanitation worker Selivan with, you sinner."

Laura raised her huge eyes to him and exclaimed indignantly:

"Sinner?!! That scumbag raped my tits! He pinned me behind the shed when I was fetching water, pulled my breast out of my décolletage, started squeezing it, then grabbed my lips with his slobbery mouth! He shoved his stinking tongue down my throat! Then he put me on my knees, spat into the hollow between my tits, and shoved his lustful cock in there! I cried, and he fucked me hard, mercilessly crushing my big breasts. And then he drenched my tender white titties with his sticky, smelly filth!"

The Inquisitor nodded benevolently.

"And upon coming to his senses, that good man ran to me in repentance. I imposed a penance on him—five minutes of self-flagellation and half an hour of reading a quantum physics textbook. I think his soul is cleansed. It was he who opened my eyes to you, daughter of sin!"

"Oh, that scoundrel!"

"My child," the Inquisitor spread his hands. "His denunciation is for your own good, so that I may guide you onto the true path, and you may shine as the most beautiful star in God's crown."

Laura's eyes flashed angrily, her voice trembling with restrained hatred:

"And did that good man tell you that before running here, he brought five of his buddies to me, bare-chested and sobbing? How they kneaded and fucked my tits, and then made me lick their limp dicks clean of cum?"

The Inquisitor frowned:

"Write down the names of those unworthy ones for me, I will punish them severely. I'll leave them without lunch. But you should be grateful to them, Laura, for that was an excellent lesson in humility for you. I hope you passed it with honor?"

Laura lowered her eyes and whispered:

"Yes, Holy Father."

"And were you obedient?"

"Yes, Holy Father. I held my little breasts myself and moved them up and down or in different directions over their tense penises, as the rapists wanted."

"And did you overcome the sin of pride-disgust?"

"Yes, Holy Father. I thoroughly sucked off all five of them. And I swallowed everything that went into my mouth."

"Were you thinking of eternity during this?"

"Oh yes! It seemed to me it would never end."

The Inquisitor nodded benignly:

"I see you are on the right path to correction. However..." he looked over the kneeling girl once more: the plump lips of her tiny mouth, the upturned nose, the bottomless green eyes, the golden fringe from under the silk monastic veil, the loose golden curls cascading in waves over her round shoulders and slender arms, the huge breasts jutting out firmly, proudly gazing at the world with their enormous pink areolas, the slender waist, the plump mound with a delicate blonde 'landing strip,' the fishnet stockings entwining her long, slender legs, crowned with the sexiest stripper stilettos. "However, I cannot strictly blame those men. No one can resist the innocence of your lovely face and the nudity of your perfect breasts. You are a thermonuclear sex bomb, my daughter. You destroy men's souls from a glance away. Alas, you are a creation of Satan."

Crying out, the novice covered her face with her little hands. Her elbows squeezed her breasts together, and the nipples, bulging with squeezed flesh, seemed to gaze at the Inquisitor in astonishment.

"Yes," he said sadly to the nipples. "I am forced to burn you at the stake."

Wailing loudly, Laura embraced the Inquisitor's legs and began covering his boots with kisses.

"No, I'm just an ordinary sinner!" she sobbed. "Have mercy! I just didn't subdue my flesh enough! I will try harder! I'll cut off my tits!!!"

"I'll cut them off!" roared the Inquisitor and pushed the novice away with a kick of his boot. "You decided to lose the image of God?!"

Laura sat back on her knees (her breasts swayed in confusion) and stared at him. She continued to tremble finely, making her tender tits quiver and sway touchingly.

"As God created you, so shall you walk," the Inquisitor said instructively. "However, enlarging breasts is another matter. After all, breasts grow during pregnancy and nursing. Therefore, silicone implants are a godly affair."

Laura looked at her udder in bewilderment, gently stroked , weighed them in her palms, and raised her eyes to the Inquisitor:

"How much bigger could they even get?"

"Oh, I wasn't talking about you," he waved it off. "I was just philosophizing for a treatise."

Laura sniffled with her upturned nose, remembering her prospects.

"Alas," the Inquisitor spread his hands, "a demon has possessed you. And I am ready to prove it. SO, listen carefully. I am a holy man, I have taken a vow of celibacy. Therefore, no earthly woman can arouse carnal desire in me. Therefore, a woman capable of exciting me possesses unnatural beauty. And since carnal desire destroys my immortal soul, her beauty comes from Satan. Therefore, a demon has possessed her."

"Ah!" exclaimed Laura. "Holy Father, you desire... me?!"

"Of course not!" the Inquisitor grimaced. "I'm not some lout from the sanitation crew. Satan has to work hard to make me desire the female flesh he offers," he took a step toward the beautiful, bare-breasted novice, unbuttoning his black frock coat as he went. "Kindly extract my male genital organ."

Laura covered her deliciously lipsticked lips, which had parted moistly in surprise, with her manicured fingers in horror.

"But how can one," she babbled, not taking her shining gaze off the Inquisitor's trousers.

"Ah, Holy Father, you are leading me into sin," Laura hurriedly unzipped his fly and extracted the Inquisitor's pale, limp, thawed-sausage-like penis with two fingers. Following it, curly, reddish pubic hair protruded from the fly.

"Aha!" the novice triumphantly poked the flawless nail of her finger at the limp member. "You don't desire me! There's no demon in me!"

The Inquisitor shook his head:

"If I got aroused from the mere sight of a woman, it would mean she is possessed by the Devil himself. Which means—the stake, no options. So rejoice that my dick is in a drooping state. Now let's determine the strength of the demon possessing you, so I can understand if I can handle it."

"Oh, you can handle it!" the beautiful girl assured him fervently, bringing her charming little face right up to the penis while continuing to look into the man's eyes.

"Open your mouth," he commanded.

Laura instantly paled, leaned back slightly, but did not dare disobey. Her open mouth resembled a thickly lipsticked letter 'O,' inside, a trembling pink tongue glistened languidly with saliva.

The Inquisitor took his limp member and slowly inserted it into the moist semi-dark