Beneath the Cassock Ch. 03: The Costume Party

Warning: This story contains non-consensual sex.

Catherine walked into the multipurpose building next to the sanctuary with some of her friends excited about the evening. The church was hosting their first ever costume party for the teens and young adults in their town. Though it happened to coincide with Halloween, the clergy was quick to say explicitly that it was not a Halloween party but did so with a wink and a smile. And while that was fun in and of itself, it was the fact that it was her first night out as a free woman that made her the happiest.

She and her boyfriend had broken up a few days ago after nearly two years together. Their relationship had not been bad, per se. It had just been boring and unexciting because they had little in common. The only reason they had remained together for so long was that it had been expected of them because their parents had wanted them together. It also hadn't hurt that they'd each been arm candy for the other at the various church events and other gatherings they attended. They'd done it so long that it became second nature to put on a good show of being happy together though neither of them had been. At twenty years-old, they both knew they did not intend to marry the other and finally got to a point they could no longer continue the charade.

After grabbing some punch together, Catherine and her girlfriends gradually broke apart as they began talking and mingling with other friends and acquaintances from the church and surrounding town. It didn't take long for some of the guys to begin gravitating toward her as it was no secret that she was now single.

Costumed as a beauty pageant winner, her knee-length dress was tasteful enough that it was appropriate for church, yet it hugged her in all the right places and accentuated her perky breasts and full hips and was just on the verge of being too short in order to show off her shapely runner's legs. She was conservatively sexy, and she knew it, and she enjoyed the attention the guys gave her. It was a nice change from the bored, disinterested looks her ex had given her even as he asked to have sex. While she hadn't come to the party looking to hookup, she was not opposed to it, though so far none of her would be suitors really caught her eye.

Feeling alive for the first time in a while, she bounced around the party talking and laughing with anyone and everyone.

With more than a few glasses of punch in her, she finally listened to her protesting bladder and went to the restroom. As she relieved herself, she checked the time and thought she should leave soon. Though she was having fun, she had to work early the next day and didn't want to be out too late.

Once finished, after checking her makeup in the mirror, she turned to the door and gasped upon seeing Father Borromeo, the church's priest, standing with his back leaned against it. It wasn't just the fact that his presence in the women's room was unexpected and inappropriate, it was that he was topless and dressed as a demon. It was a costume she was sure he had not been wearing a few minutes ago and which she was certain would not have gone over well with the other clergy and devout parishioners in attendance. At about six and a half feet tall, his tanned body alone would have filled the doorway and easily blocked her in, but with the addition of the folded, bat-like wings attached to his back, she could not even see the opening. Yet even with the way he stared at her, she didn't find his presence to be threatening.

"Sorry," he said with his lilting, melodic voice. "I did not mean to scare you, but I did want your attention."

Pushing passed the fact that she knew this interaction was not appropriate, Catherine looked him up and down with open appreciation and more than a little desire.

Below his thick, wavy hair, his diamond shaped face with its high cheek bones and strong, square chin was covered with roughish stubble that was as out of character for the priest as much as his costume was. His thin lips were almost imperceptibly turned up in a smile that appeared both predatory and sexy given what he wore. Around his narrow hips were a pair of black leather pants. They enhanced his already overt sexiness and were tight enough that she could make out the outline of everything contain within them. Shockingly, they were unbuttoned and the zipper was lowered far enough that the sides of the garment fell open displaying his bush and the base of his dick.

Though she knew it was wrong, Catherine returned a smile of her own that was sexier than it should have been. "You definitely got it. Nice costume. Father."

"Thank you. But it is not a costume," he said as he stepped toward her.

Catherine heard the heavy, hard sounds of his footsteps on the tile echo through the room and looked down to see a pair of black hooves peeking out from under the end of the priest's pants. She could also hear a soft, rustling sound that came from the membranes of his wings as he approached. Leathery in appearance, there was a single hard, claw-like tip that was roughly a foot long at the top of each where the supporting ribs met. When he came to a stop in front of her, she noticed for the first time that a thick, blunt tail waved languidly behind them. Up close, she saw that he wore contacts that made his eyes black with red pupils which completely obscured the whites and their usual bright blue irises. The pointed, black horns on his head curved backward in wide loops that tapered to sharp looking points. They looked surprisingly real with growth rings at random intervals. Attached to the ends of the long fingers on his broad hands were black nails that were easily half an inch long. Thick and slightly tapered, they looked more like claws instead of the usual long nails that he maintained. Taking it all in, if she hadn't already met him, she could believe he really was a demon.

Willing to entertain the ruse for at least a moment longer, she replied lightly, "So, you're telling me that you, Father Borromeo, are really a demon?"

"Oh, but I am not just any demon."

"No?" Catherine shivered pleasantly as he lightly traced a cold, sharp nail down the side of her face. "What kind of demon are you?"

"An incubus."

Catherine screwed up her face in thought for a moment. She recognized the word but couldn't define it.

"A sex demon," he explained as he stepped into her space. "I feed off the orgasms of my partners."

"Well, you definitely look the part." With her vision filled with his broad, well-defined, hairless chest, she couldn't help inhaling deeply to savor his spicy, musky scent. "Very sexy. For a priest. I hope I'm not your next victim?"

"Victim is such an unpleasant word. Especially in this case because I think I am exactly what you need right now."

Catherine let out a squeal but didn't protest when he wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her against him. His body was hard and felt cool in comparison to hers even in the warmth of the room and part of her wanted to relax into his strong, confident and comforting embrace. Yet, knowing a line had been crossed, she asked with some indignation, "And what is it that you think I need?"

His voice dropped to a breathy whisper as he said, "A nice, hard fuck."

Catherine struggled and screamed when he leaned down and pressed his lips to hers but her sounds were swallowed by his mouth. Despite her objection to it, it was the kiss she had been waiting for her whole life. His lips were gentle but insistent against hers and when his tongue entered her mouth, it took control in a quietly possessive manner. Even though his lips and tongue were almost uncomfortably cold against hers, she felt more aroused by the contact than she had in the entirety of time she had been with her ex.

Realizing it was her priest kissing her, she gathered all the willpower she could muster and pushed him away to break the kiss. "Father Borromeo! No! I know I'm not the most perfect and pure girl in the parish, but I am not the kind of girl that would do that kind of thing with you. Especially not in a restroom at a church function. I'm flattered, but the answer is no. And, rest assured, I will not tell anyone about this as long as it doesn't happen again."

"Catherine," he said with overt patience as he lowered his zipper. "You are not leaving until I fuck you, which means you can do this willingly or not. Your choice."

As his pants fell to his ankles, Catherine felt like her mouth was pulled downward with them in shock. She blinked again as she realized the garment had not fallen but had melted and morphed into a pair of oddly articulated legs. They were simultaneously furry and covered in scales and the hooves at the ends looked both incongruous and perfectly suited to the inhuman appearance of his lower half. It all looked so real that she knew the priest must have spent some money on them.

For as shocking as his legs were, her focus, however, was centered on the hard cock pointing in her direction. Framed by a bush of neatly trimmed, but still long, pubic hair was the largest, most perfect phallus she had ever seen. The thick rod stuck straight out of his crotch and curved upward gently to end in a slightly wider, arrow-shaped head. As she watched him openly, he wrapped one hand around it and began to slowly stroke it. At the same time, his wings slowly unfolded. The pose of his muscular body against the solid black backdrop made him look even sexier than he had been.

While she could acknowledge that the normal Father Borromeo she saw on Sundays was attractive, she was concerned that she found herself attracted by the fantasy of a demonic priest.

After composing herself, she was able to mutter, "Wow. Awesome costume."

This time, there was no question that his smile was predatory when he displayed his pointed canines and she wasn't sure if the shiver that coursed through her was from fright or arousal. Before she could get a sound out, Father Borromeo pulled her into another kiss. It was as good as, if not better than, the first and she struggled halfheartedly as she felt some of her reluctance about being "that girl" melt away, especially when he began to hump his hardness against her. She protested much less than she should have when he reached under her dress and she felt his fingers begin to massage her covered opening. It wasn't until she felt two cold nails and their fingers slip into her that she realized he had used the sharp claws to cut open the thin fabric of her panties.

"Father, you have to stop." She grabbed his wrist and futilely tried to pull it from where it had taken up residence even as she felt her arousal grow from being touched so intimately by him. "I've let this go on longer that I should have. You are very attractive and that's a very nice costume but it does not give you the right to take advantage of me or anyone else just because you want to play out some fantasy."

"But it is not a costume," Father Borromeo breathed against her lips as he folded his wings and added a third finger to her moistening pussy. "And is it not nice to know that an incubus chose you out of all the women in this church? All the women in the world?"

Catherine cried out and struggled even more as he laid her on the floor then used his greater body weight to hold her down.

As he guided his cock under her dress to hump his cock against her swelling lips, he whispered, "Scream all you want, no one will hear you. But, this would be so much better for you if you just relaxed and enjoyed it."

Even as she accepted that she was about to be forced into having sex, her screams dwindled to whimpers.

"Yes," he cooed. "Just relax. I promise I will not hurt you and that it will be quick. I just want to have a little snack, feed just a bit to take the edge off.

Catherine watched with hesitant anticipation as the naked priest slid his body down hers then moved his head between her legs. If Father Borromeo had not been a priest, had been just another guy, she would've been eager for this encounter, but she could not ignore the fact that in two days, he'd be in his cassock and collar standing at the altar performing mass.

Looking into his eyes, she saw him wink as he stuck out his tongue. As black as his wings, the wet muscle seemed to slither out of his mouth as he aimed it beneath her dress. Other than the color, it looked mostly human as it left his mouth until she realized it was still lengthening. By the time the cold tip touched her moist pussy lips, there was over a foot of it writhing outside of his mouth.

As it firmly pressed just inside her folds and began to move up and down teasing her flesh, she breathed out, "What the hell?"

Suddenly on edge but enjoying how he was playing with her pussy, she eyed his horns. At this angle, she could see there was not the expected plastic band holding them on his head. She reached out and combed her fingers through his soft locks then pried around their bases hoping that she would find their anchor. Not only were the growths firmly secured to his head, it felt like they were actually growing out of his head; she could feel his scalp fold back around them. Moving her eyes beyond the curved growths to his back, she could not find any artificial anchor between the wings and his body. In fact, it looked like they were also a part of him with the soft skin of his back transitioning in an irregular line to the leathery covering of his wings. Reaching out to touch one of the membranes, it felt surprisingly supple, as if it were living hide as opposed to cured leather.

Movement at the edge of her vision pulled her focus to his tail. The same tanned color as the rest of his skin, she followed the writhing length to the base and saw that it seamlessly integrated into his body. Where it left him above his ass, it was nearly as thick as one of his wide wrists. Moving her eyes along the length in the other direction, she saw that it tapered gently until it reached the tip. Focused on the swaying end, she saw that the end was no longer blunt. Instead, the head of a penis nearly identical to the one between his legs capped it. Upon looking closer, she could see wrinkled skin around the base of the flared tip that resembled retracted foreskin. Taking that in, she realized that his entire tail resembled a long penis, especially when it periodically went rigid and pointed straight up his back.

"That's not a costume," Catherine muttered mostly to herself after her quick examination.

"Told you. Incubus."

Catherine's eyes went wide as she heard his voice clearly in her head though he was still tonguing her pussy and had not moved his lips.

Before she could scream in fright, his mouth was on hers in another deep kiss. She struggled futilely against him for a brief moment before she succumbed to the pleasure she felt. Not only was his mouth talented in the way it worked her, the gentle but insistent humping of his cock against her stiffening clit was both arousing and soothing. Already, this demon who looked like Father Borromeo was working her body better than her ex or any man ever had.

Feeling him draw his hips back, Catherine instinctively wrapped her legs around his strange, powerful thighs before she fully registered what was about to happen. As she felt his tip slide toward her entrance, she began to struggle against him again. "Wait! No!"

"Oh, yes," Father Borromeo said as slowly as he pushed his hardness into her. He smiled hearing a whimper of pain leave her due to his size. "I am not going to ask you to stop fighting. That only makes it better for me. But I promise if you relaxed, you will enjoy it. I know you need this as much as I do."

As much as she didn't want to give in, Catherine found herself gradually relaxing as he set up a steady pace thrusting deeper into her yet she continued to mewl in response to his presence inside her body. It wasn't just that he was thicker and longer than any guy she had been with before, it was the fact that his cock was unnaturally cold. She found it odd because looking up into his eyes, she could now see that his red pupils were actually flickers of fire, yet his entire body possessed none of the expected body heat.

Lifeless was the word that came to mind.

Even as she increasingly moaned and writhed with pleasure beneath him, she registered how his flesh had none of the give that she expected from a human body. While she had never touched a corpse, she imagined he felt exactly as she imagined one would. And, despite his powerful, energetic thrusting, she realized she could not feel the usual puffs of air—neither hot nor cold—on her face from his breathing though his face hovered inches above hers.

With primal fright finally taking hold, she pushed her hands against him and begged for him to stop yet continued to hold him tight with her legs not willing to give up the pleasure. That she really was being taken by a demon heightened all of the sensations that were coursing through her body making this the best fuck she'd ever had.

"Now you believe," Father Borromeo said with a laugh. "Let me make this a bit more fun."

Feeling nothing supporting her as she left the ground, Catherine began to writhe and scream louder even as her moans of pleasure grew. As they rose into the air, she watched in horror as Father Borromeo unfolded his wings and the points of fire in his eyes gradually grew larger to take over the blackness. Feeling something rhythmically rub her clit, she looked between them and saw what looked like another tongue extending from what should have been his navel. It was all too much for her to process and she began to convulse in orgasm.

Within her, she felt Father Borromeo's cock grow larger as he let out what could only be described as a demonic roar. The sound enhanced her fright and caused her orgasm to strengthen and deepen into a pleasure unlike anything she had ever felt. Above her, she saw his chest heave as if he were taking deep breaths and soon realized each was timed to a wave of pleasure that coursed through her body. As her orgasm continued, she began to feel weak and lightheaded and fought to keep her eyes open.

"Thank you, Catherine," Father Borromeo's voice echoed through her head as she struggled not to surrender to the darkness closing in. "That was just what I needed."

Fighting for consciousness, she closed her eyes briefly and shook her head hoping to clear it after the intense orgasm. When she reopened them, she was alone on the floor. Part of her wondered if she had blacked out and imagined it all, but her pussy and hips ached from the hard, fast fuck. Indeed, when she touched herself, she could feel the wetness of sex lingering between her legs, though her underwear was not tattered and sat firmly in place covering her as it should have been.

Unsure of how to explain to herself what had happened, Catherine took a few calming breaths then stood to look in the mirror. The face of a woman who had been freshly fucked stared back at her. While she really couldn't deny it had happened, she couldn't explain how Father Borromeo could have disappeared literally in the blink of an eye unless she'd been out longer than she thought. Or he really was a demon.

After composing herself, Catherine opened the door and left the restroom. As she returned to the main area of the hall, she noticed that the same song that had been playing when she entered the restroom was still going. Looking around, she saw a number of people in roughly the same places they'd been before she'd left the dance floor. Checking her watch, she saw that less than five minutes had passed since she'd been on the toilet.

Recognizing that the constricted passage of time was significant, yet still reluctant to believe she'd been had by a demon, she located each of her friends and said her goodbyes, thinking it was probably best for her to rest.