Exorcism

The room was even colder now.
The demon writhed upon the bed,

then lay still,
her stripped body

beckoning him once again.
Christ Himself compels you.

The wings had been what
surprised him the most,

the purity of the white feathers,
how they framed her pale body,

her jutting mounds taunting him,
beckoning him,

The triangle of red hair
nesting in her crotch calling him.

He must be stronger this time.
God Himself compels you.

Her impossibly long
forked tongue

snaked out of her mouth,
halving the distance between them.

Come into me, priest. Fuck this sow.
Let us use her together.

Her fluorescent green eyes met his
as she raised her talons and parted the air,

tearing his collar from his neck
ripping his vestment into shreds.

She breathed the liquid fire
and vaporized what little remained

of his garments. (Good thing
he had packed his satchel well.)

He would be stronger this time.
He would wrap his faith around him

like a hazmat condom.
In the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Ghost...

Her writhing tongue
found his crotch,

as he gamely held forth
his hardened rod and staff

to comfort her, and her serpent's tongue
wrapped itself around his shaft,

searing it like a barber's pole,
with its unnatural frosty heat.

Her incredibly spread jaws
closed on his aching balls,

her fangs tracing ancient patterns,
nipping the tender skin of his sac,

offering pleasure mixed with pain.
She spread her magnificent wings

and reclined, pulling him down to her,
her claws scourging his back as he

entered her as if she were the tomb of Jesus,
feeling her walls gripping him, her wings

enfolding him, her fangs puncturing his ear
as he rode her brutally, squeezing a breast in each hand,

pounding his way in and out of
her holy passage.

Her talons gripped his ass tightly, urging him onward,
increasing his frenzy as he drove into her harder and harder,

then stiffened as he came,
pouring his seed into her hot eager womb,

collapsing against her,
as her claws

gently stroked his hair
and her glorious mouth

whispered unspeakable thoughts
into his all too willing ear.

He would do better next time, he vowed.
His will was growing stronger.

Still, this was going pretty well, he thought.
He hadn't had any of those wicked thoughts about

altar boys
for at least four weeks now.