The Nightmare

Pray. Pray harder. She’ll leave if you pray. She has to.
You grip your rosary tighter and increase the volume of your chants.
She doesn't leave.
You can feel her behind you, slowly closing in. You can almost see that cruel smile on her face.

You first started to see her after the solstice. A flicker of movement at the edge of your vision. If you snapped your head around fast enough you were able to catch a glimpse of black leather and pale flesh. Doing that got you odd looks from the others though, and you stopped after Brother Smith asked you what was wrong. You took to wearing your hood all the time after that, keeping her out of sight and out of mind.

She didn't like that.

You woke one night to see her clinging to the ceiling above your bed, bare bosom thrust out at you, wings spread wide as if to smother you. As you looked into her sickeningly perfect eyes the scent of roses and brimstone invaded your nose and you had a vision of tangled limbs and endless, agonizing passion. You screamed. She cackled noiselessly in response, her tail, as long as she was tall, thrashed about behind her in delight. The lights were on in an instant as your brothers rushed to your aid, but she was already gone. You pointed desperately to where she had been but a few seconds before, but there wasn't so much as a scratch in the paint to indicate she had ever been there.

You saw her every day from then on, not in fleeting glimpses but clear views of her whorish attire and her onyx horns and those terrible, all-encompassing wings. She always appeared when you were alone; leaning against the garden wall, waiting for you in the scullery after breakfast, leafing idly through a book in the library. You never said anything to her, lest your brothers overhear and think you mad, and she never made a sound until one day when she suddenly appeared in the rearmost pew during one of your sermons. The words died in your throat when you saw her, grinning up at you from her seat, but no one seemed to take any notice of her presence. She laughed at all the wrong moments as you forced yourself to finish, a saccharine song that made you want to close your eyes and listen to it forever. When you were done she stood up and walked out with the other parishioners. Later, you asked Father Murphy if he had noticed anything odd about the woman in the back row. He gave you a worried look and slowly told you that there hadn't been anyone in the back row.

You began praying twice as often after that. You had either lost your mind or something terrible had taken an interest in you. As the days rolled by you started to realize that she never appeared to you when you were praying, no matter where you were. You started praying even more frequently, imploring the saints for protection at every opportunity, and it seemed to be working until you realized that she had begun making up for your time apart by appearing even more frequently whenever you weren't praying. She started venturing closer, whispering perversities in your ear, trailing her fingers over any exposed skin she could find, leaving your whole body tingling with desire for more intimate contact. Fearful of what might become of that, you locked yourself in your room this morning and started praying. You didn't come out until after dusk, when intense thirst and gnawing hunger finally compelled you to venture out into the darkened halls of the monastery.
She was waiting for you when you got to the kitchen, an impossibly decadent meal on gaudy silver plates laid out on the table before you. She smiled that same horrifically gorgeous smile she always does when you stumbled in.

“Hungry?”

You turned and ran, quickly becoming lost as the halls of the monastery seemed to twist and shift around you. Eventually you found yourself in the great hall, moonlight streaming in through the window at its back. Now you kneel before the altar, begging for salvation as she slowly closes the distance between you.

She’s close enough now that you can hear her footsteps. You shrink down lower to the floor, hoping to disappear through it. The will to pray, or do anything else for that matter, leaves you as her hands come to rest on your shoulders. She leans down against you, her full breasts press against your back, erect nipples poking you through your robes. She brings her mouth next to your ear.

“He can’t hear you, you know. There’s no one here but me”

The sensation of her breath on your ear sends a shudder of delight down your spine and fills you with a terrifying arousal. You spastically shuffle forward on your knees, trying to escape her, but her tail wraps around you like a warm, supple rope and pulls you back, nestling your head between her breasts. Her intoxicating scent overwhelms your senses, and the last of the drive to escape drains from you. You tilt your head back meekly, she looks down into your eyes, a smug smirk on her achingly beautiful features.

“Just accept it. Even His love couldn’t hope to surpass what I feel for you…what I’ll make you feel for me. I'll take better care of you than He ever did."

She she moves around to straddle you and leans in to plant a gentle kiss on your lips. She brushes your hair out of your face with a tenderness that betrays deranged obsession, then slides her hands over your chest toward your sash.

"For what it's worth, this won't hurt a bit"

Your robes may as well have been made of tissue for all they slow her down. In the blink of an eye you’re as naked as she is, your body pressed to hers as her tongue invades your mouth. Her wings envelope the both of you, a living blanket to make love under. She guides your hands to her breasts, planting kisses all over your face and neck as she does so. Her plump bosoms feel so lovely to the touch that your hands begin kneading and pressing them as if of their own accord. The rougher you handle her the louder her moans of encouragement become and you’re soon treating her in ways that leave your mind reeling with shame. She seems to sense your humiliation at your own behavior and it excites her even more. Her tail loops round between your legs and starts to massaging your long neglected manhood. You’re drooling pre almost instantly, slicking her tail and giving her license to go faster. Seeing that you are ready, she pushes you back and lines her sopping cunt up with you.

“I've been waiting a very long time for this”

She slides herself down to your base, inch by inch, her hot folds dribbling proof of her pent-up arousal onto your lap. Her inner walls stroke and milk you with inhuman dexterity and single-minded purpose. You can feel her heartbeat through your point of union for a few moments, until it syncs up with yours. You draw a stuttering breath as she begins slowly bringing her full hips upward and abruptly slamming them down just before your member slides free. The pleasure is overwhelming, frighteningly so, and your hands fly to her waist in a vain attempt to slow her down. As soon as your fingers touch the curve of her hips your apprehension is overcome by a compulsion to push her down onto your throbbing cock, to wring as much pleasure as you can from her wondrous body. Your fingers sink slightly into her soft flesh as you grip her and you are unable to fight the urge to grip her even tighter. She giggles musically as your desperate need for release takes control of your will. Your hips begin to buck upward in time with her thrusts, eager to force your shaft further into her soaking snatch. She adds a side-to-side wriggle to her motions, sliding herself back and forth across your lap every time she hilts you, pressing and squeezing your shaft, savoring the feeling of having you inside her. Her face becomes more and more flushed every time she does so, and soon she’s panting and trembling with ecstasy as she catches up to you. Eventually she can’t bear to have anything less than your entire length within her; she smashes herself down onto you and begins grinding her hips in wide circles, her eyes brimming with twisted affection as her orgasm builds. You start to feel a needy suction from deeper inside her love canal as she mercilessly assaults your penis. After one particularly protracted rotation you finally can’t contain yourself anymore. Your release explodes inside her, a lifetime of celibacy flooding her womanhood. Her ministrations continue as you pump her full of your seed, her greedy pussy sucking and clinging to you, ensuring not a single drop escapes her. She leans down to kiss you, pulling your tongue into her mouth and rolling it about against hers. The last of your semen drains from you, and she finally achieves release, arching her back, crushing her breasts against your chest, and moaning wantonly into your mouth. The flood of femspunk squirting from her soaks your torso and pools on the floor beneath you.

She breaks the kiss after what feels like an eternity and leans down to rest her head on your chest as you lay panting beneath her. You remain still, trying to catch your breath, until you feel a strange tingling and stretching in your scalp. It grows to cover your whole head, warping into a cocktail of pleasure and pain as you feel something hard and glossy erupt from either side of your skull. You reach up with trembling hands to feel your head, heart heavy with suspicion. A few seconds exploration of the intrusions confirms your fears. You've grown horns. She giggles again.

“Those look absolutely adorable”

---

You do your best to get your brothers’ attention. You really do. You shout at them, but they cannot hear you. You grab them, shake them, but they can’t feel you either. You flip tables, dump books from their shelves, scratch messages into the walls. They take no notice. Nor do they take any notice of her hysterical laughter as she watches your increasingly frantic attempts to reach them. Or when she pushes you onto the nearest flat surface and mounts you.

After a while you’re almost glad that they can’t see you; that they can’t see the black-fleshed tail dancing about at the base of your spine, or the broad black wings that jut out from either side. She said that she was going to take you “home” as soon as they were developed. You try to halt their growth through increasingly painful means, but to no avail. In no time at all they’re as big as hers, and she’s leading you by the hand through the great hall, past your brothers as they sit in quiet study and reflection. You make a final, half-hearted attempt at getting their attention, but it’s as futile as it’s always been, and as you clumsily bump one of your wings into a pillar, you know that you’re long past the point of no return. You resign yourself to whatever fate she has in store. You’re one of her kind now.

She leads you to a strange door that you’d never noticed before, in spite of the way it’s twisting black and red filigree clashes with the humble architecture of the monastery. It opens of its own accord, revealing a dim hallway that seems to stretch off into infinity. One of her ilk is waiting on the other side, of different proportions and countenance, but just as terrifyingly irresistible. She and her sister exchange a pleasant greeting as the newcomer surveys the hall, but neither seems to have much time for the other, and she quickly retakes your hand and tugs you toward the door. You turn around and cast one last glance at your brothers as you cross the threshold. Your gaze comes to rest on Brother Smith. His mouth is agape as he regards the newcomer, who blows a kiss in his direction and giggles. He looks around at the others; they are oblivious to the foul creature's presence. His gaze shifts to you; confusion, then recognition, then abject horror flicker in turn across his face.

Fear and desperation grip your body as you realize what's happening. You raise your hand and try to call out to him, to warn him, to beg for help, anything, but she slams the door shut before you can get a single word out.

"Welcome home Lover"