Binding the Dark Spirit

This is a dark fantasy, inspired by a podcast about a "real" exorcist. Tricking vulnerable people into thinking they're possessed is an incredibly fucked up thing to do in real life, even if you yourself believe in demons/ghosts/etc. Like sex, religion should always be consentual, which means free of manipulation (perhaps with a minimum age for participation as well.)

Anyway, I'm working on more stories in this world as a side project while I plod through the final draft of Trappers Bend. The fictional religion here should be a little better fleshed out in future stories.

Feedback is always welcome. Hope you enjoy the smut!

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"Where am I?" Angela mumbled again, blearily. The Priest waited, watching. This time, her eyelids started to flutter, slitting open just enough. She was coming back, praise God. He nodded towards the entrance of the room, and watched the door quietly close.

"You're safe, child," Father August said. "For now."

Her eyes blinked, seeming to struggled to look at him. She was lying on an oak platform, covered with thin padding, beneath which were engraved the names of saints and martyrs. The official church name for it was a Plane of Demonic Expulsion. He thought of it as his exorcism futon.

"Father?" she asked. "What..." she reached up and touched the ring through her septum, and winced.

"Oh, no," she said, horror dawning across her face.

"You're safe here," the priest repeated. "So let's just take this one step at a time, okay?"

The petite, dark haired girl reached her hand up to touch her hair. It was short now, asymmetrical, the bangs hanging low over here eyes.

"Please, just focus on my voice. Confronting the..." the priest swallowed, "the changes too quickly could lead to you succumbing to malign influence again. Just focus on this conversation. Can you sit up?"

The girl sat up, letting out a surprised yelp as the tight clothes shifted on her body.

"oh, God," she whispered, looking down. "What did that heathen bitch do to-"

"You shall not pervert her tongue, devil!" the priest boomed, standing up quickly.

Her eyes opened wide, followed by her mouth a moment later.

"No! No, you're wrong! I've served the church since I was a child! Don't even imply that I'm possessed."

The priest sat down slowly, sharing a look of melancholy sympathy.

"Your mind is still clouded, child. I will lead you through this one step at a time, okay?"

She nodded, pulling her feet up, self-consciously positioning herself beneath the Ward of Expulsion ostentatiously inscribed in the ceiling. The Church's exorcism lore was obscured by an elaborate technocracy. Little of it was literally forbidden knowledge, but the majority of it was obscured behind multiple layers of scholarship, convention, bureaucracy, and reticence. However, one thing every child of the church knew that a demoniac wouldn't willingly subject itself to this particular power symbol, and it was clear from her expression that she believed this would clear the matter up. The priest didn't seem to notice — perhaps because, as a priest, he knew that it was more of a rule of thumb than an iron law.

Demons didn't occupy a particular point in time and space — they were nowhere and everywhere — so even an effective Ward of Expulsion might only temporarily suppress the manifestation of a demon. Furthermore, the ward would only work if the faith of the demoniac were sincere (as well as the priest's faith, though in practice the latter was beyond question). And of course, when the Ward didn't work, it was treated as proof that the demoniac's faith was not sincere.

"What do you remember last?"

"I was bringing home a lost soul, Father. A girl named Tabitha."

"A friend?" The priest asked.

"Friend in God," she responded with a pure, pious look, going just a bit sour around the edges.

It was a term that meant they were bound by the will of God, rather than just by mortal affection. In theory, it didn't exclude normal friendship — the best friends of saints and martyrs were also Friends in God. But so were vulgar nonbelievers who a member was called on to proselytize.

"The Bishop has foreseen her redemption," she continued, her face a picture of long-suffering religious devotion. "Her family is influential, so it will be a great victory for the Church."

"And what sort of character does this Tabitha have?"

The girl scowled. "Really, it is not for me to judge, Father."

August touched his necklace. "May the lord unbind this child's tongue."

The girl gasped at a sudden movement from the corner of the room. An attendant who had been sitting perfectly still walked towards her with solemn determination. He was a huge man, and his veiled, fierce eyes under bushy brows looked down at her. She physically recoiled as he threw a pinch of salt at her, then silently walked away. Angela felt a pang of fear at the priest's look. Why would she recoil from salt, if she weren't possessed?

"Fight the demon's influence child. Tell me honestly: what sort of character does this Tabitha have?"

The girl's eyes looked glazed. Chastened, the priest thought, approvingly.

"She is an atheist and a harlot, father. She dates a new boy practically every semester, and she has drinking parties over at her house. And she thinks she's... she takes great pride in her intellect."

"And how did you endeavor to win her for the Lord?"

Angela reached into the pocket of her cutoffs. She dug her hands into her pockets, rooting through them with a look of increasing disbelief.

"Where is it, Father? I wouldn't lose it, I swear — I know to protect sacred knowledge from all enemies!"

"As do I," the Priest picked up the small flash drive from the table in front of him and rotating it so the Sigil of Truth flashed in the dim light.

She looked down, self-doubt creeping into her expression. "So you know I was supposed to sanctify her laptop. The Prayer for Skeptics, and the Rebuke of Credulous Disbelief. Graduation is in 3 weeks, and she's on the laptop for hours every day, which means thousands and thousands of repetitions. It should be plenty of time time for the word of God to enter her heart."

"And you were to to be her witness?" he asked, a little quickly.

"Yes, I was. I mean I am. What... what's the date, father? How long have I been, uh, gone?"

"One thing at a time, child. Please, answer my question."

She nodded and took a breath. "Yes. I was laying the groundwork by testifying to my miracles."

The priest raised an eyebrow. Miraculate Attestations required one to directly witness a miracle, either in person or (no doubt, in this case) through church-sanctioned revelation. How had such a young woman earned the church's confidence? And why had she been sent to him?

She seemed to mistake his reaction for doubt.

"Assigned by Bishop Cameron. Otherwise I wouldn't presume to have the authority to..." she trailed off. "I could recite them if you don't believe me."

"In the guise of a... disreputable woman," he asked, severely, his eyes looking over her.

She covered her septum piercing reflexively, then moved her hand down again, fire in her eyes.

"God knows my heart. A ring through my nose doesn't make me a whore."

"And is that the only thing disreputable about your presentation, child? Or is it the worst?"

She glanced down. "Unless there's something on my face that you haven't told me about it's-"

She froze, looking down slowly as if fighting a rising fear with every degree.

"My... my pants. They're."

"Are those called pants, nowadays child? They don't even cover your pockets."

She mumbled something, her face flush with shame.

"Child?"

"Daisy Dukes. It's what they're called. I would never wear... this," she finished.

"And yet you are, my child. And thanks to some malign influence, you couldn't even see they were inappropriate until I pointed them out."

"Someone must have changed done something while I was out. Changed me."

August looked back, saying nothing for several moments. She seemed too shocked to even adjust herself to preserve her modesty.

"Take your time, child."

She swallowed, seeming to snap out of it.

"Look, I'm sorry about my, uh, presentation, Father. But I feel fine otherwise. Whatever happened to me, it's over."

She gave him a twitchy smile. He didn't return it.

"And what happened next with Tabitha?"

"Well, we were going to do some studying at the mall Starbucks. I figured I could slip them in when she went to the bathroom. But we sat down, and-"

"'Slip them in?' Child, we do not earn faith through trickery."

"I just meant, I'd Sanctify the laptop when... when she wasn't working."

Her eyes plead with his implacable expression.

"That's what we're told to do," she added in a small voice.

It was what they were told to do, but not how they were told to do it. Installing the revelations without the target's permission was a theologically complex topic, and even a bright girl like Angela could not navigate the complex semantics of Angelic Consent, or the moral distinctions they implied to the faithful without extensive training. To hack a nonbeliever's laptop and install subliminal materials might take only a week of technical instructions, but it would require years of religious instruction and apologetics.

August sighed to himself, disappointed to find an obvious answer to what had seemed an intriguing riddle. Someone had screwed up, and given a high school senior far too much access. She was a problem his superiors had decided he would fix.

"Unclean spirits can affect a young women on multiple levels, my child. Were it simply a misunderstanding of doctrine, I'd sit you down and explain the Church's position. But the indecent dress, hypersexual presentation, and sensual body alterations suggest a corruption that runs deeper. Attempting to seduce a priest is a grave sin."

She blushed at the scandalous suggestions, and curled up, pressing her legs together and wrapping her arms over her chest. He saw her eyes turn inward, and the girl cautiously felt her braless breasts, trembling.

The Priest put down the dossier he'd been surreptitiously examining and walked over quickly "Demon, release this child's mind from the sensuous pleasures that overwhelm her. This child seeks the righteous humility of the church, not the overwhelming rapture of harlotry that assails her body!"

The girl looked up, her eyes lidded.

"Father? I... it's not just my septum. The piercing. I have a lot of new piercings, I think."

His eyes flashed. "Where child?"

She licked her lips, ashamed to even say it, and simply pointed at her breasts.

"Let her speak, demon, that she may redeem herself."

She winced. "My nipples. Both of them are pierced. I don't know how I didn't notice. It's all I can think of now, except."

She looked up at him, ashamed to continue, but for his demanding expression.

"And my sex."

His severe gaze gave way to a practiced look of curiosity, tinged with hope.

"The next several questions will seem strange, but everything depends on them. Be brave."

She nodded.

"How many piercings are in your sex, child?" he asked, carefully avoiding looking down where they currently spilled out around the thin strip of fabric for him to count and recount to his heart's content.

"Seven, I think. Three on each side, and one in... at the top."

He nodded.

"And do you know what they're made of?"

"I don't know... anything," she said, thickly.

"As a youthful witness, you were assigned an angelic guide by Cameron, were you not? Daughter Alura, Saint of Chastity?"

She nodded, her lips began mouthing a prayer to Alura.

He leaned over her, looking closely at the septum piercing. "If your other piercings are gold like this ring, we may have a chance."

"What? Are you saying the piercings came from Alura? No, a Saint wouldn't do this."

She reached her hand towards the septum piercing, but the priest grabbed her wrist, the attendant suddenly looming behind her.

"Stop, child! You have strong faith, but the demons have not given up their fight for you."

"I don't want them!" she said, as the attendant caught her other hand in his implacable grip.

"Release her, demon! You shall not break the seals this child's guardians have placed against you!"

"No! I want them out! They're sensitive, and I feel like a slut!"

"That is the voice of the demon, child. He wants you to act rashly, so he can finish your corruption. Fight him!"

The priest handed her wrist to the attendant, who now held both above her head in one firm grip, his other hand on her back. They seemed to calm her.

"There, my child," the priest said. "The demonic attack has passed again. You have a powerful adversary, but your protector is even more powerful.

"Why would a saint do this to my body?" she asked, her eyes watering.

"She is yoking you to the service of the church. You may stumble, but you will not fall."

"By piercing my... nipples and my nose and my-"

she sobbed. The priest stroked her hair sympathetically.

"It will be a long struggle. But if I can show you what Alura has done for you, it will help you head her guidance."

She nodded faintly, her eyes on the floor. Father August grasped the ring through her septum, turning her head up until she was forced to meet his eyes. "What does this ring make you think of?"

Her eyes watered. "It's like something a farm animal would have to be led around."

"Yes, exactly" the priest said. "Something to keep the flock from straying."

She looked at him, a jumble of emotions across her face.

"Are you under your own control again?" the priest asked.

"I... I think so."

He nodded at the attendant, who dropped her wrists.

"Picture Saint Alura in your mind," he said. "Close your eyes, and feel her church lead you through this golden ring."

Clasping her hands together in an attitude of pious anxiety, she followed his instructions. The priest reached into his pocked, and pulled out a gold chain, which he clipped onto the ring. Slowly, he lead her to an altar in the corner, and with a gentle tug, bade her yield.

She opened her eyes. "Is this her relic?"

He nodded. "The garter of Alura. I received a private revelation to retrieve it before your visit."

He wasn't lying. Her dossier had contained many private revelations.

"Do you feel it? The demons of lust are still inside you, but the church shall guide you through your struggles, if you be as gentle and trusting as a cow."

She nodded. "I do, Father. To be righteous sometimes means... to suffer for the church."

He smiled back. Her show of pride gave him pause, but it was forgivable, given the circumstances. God and his church would demand much of this one. He gave a single tug of the chain, and she rose to her feet, without protest, a look of pious submission on her face.

He handed it to the antedate, and gently grasped her shoulder. "You must reveal Alura's next protections," he said, glancing meaningfully at her chest.

She stood with her mouth open for just a moment, her eyes flicking between the two men. Then, peeled off her tank top and looked at the priest, lost and shivering, her hands covering her breasts. Father August's look turned hard as the Attendant pulled the chain, locking her gaze to his.

"The demons showed no shame when they dressed you as a whore. Do not permit them to hide the light of Alura under false modesty. If you do not let us instruct you, all is lost."

She swallowed, dropped her arms, lost in his gaze.

"Good child. They're retreating. Shoulders back to show that you are not ashamed of your salvation. Uplift, exalt, display the gifts of Alura to all present!"

She thrust her breasts out, linking her hands behind her back and pulling her elbows together to enhance the effect. The priest continued to watch her. Shyly, she reached up, grasping her breasts from beneath, and offering them, one thrust towards each man, her eyes shining with devotion and submission.

Father August nodded seriously towards her, then turned away. "Demons!" he intoned, "This woman's guardian has pierced her everywhere you have led her body to rebel, See how her wounds bind her to serve the true Church and tremble, Amen!"

"Amen," the attendant droned, Angela whispering the word between them.

"Be brave," the priest said, and suddenly grasped her nipples, lightly pinching the stretched buds around the thick rings. "Quickly child, what do you feel from this blessing of Alura?"

Her eyelids fluttered, her face beading with sweat. "Oh, I feel her... her light," she gasped, her trembling hands still offering her breasts to the priest, "trying to drive away the demons but, oh, it's so s-sensitive Father, and it h-hurts when you pinch like... Ow, too much! Too much!" she cried.

"The demon is trying to fill you with whorish contempt and rebellion, child. Your guardian has pierced them so you may love and nourish the body of the church. Now what do you feel? Can you overcome the temptation?"

"It's... it's too much! But I can... I can overcome temptation!"

The Priest looked at the attendant. "His hold is strong, but this child is fighting. She is eager to serve the church again, to nourish it with the spirit of Alura!"

"Amen!"

"Now close your eyes child, and feel the spirit of Alura! The more the demons inflame your lusts, the more Alura will nourish you and the church through you!"

The priest and his attendant latched onto her nipples, pinning her body between her.

"Oh no!" She cried. "Father, they're so sensitive! I can't! Oh, Alura, help me, oh God, please help me, I'm filled with sinful thoughts, and I'm so close to-"

The priest pulled off and slapped her hard, as the attendant gathered her wrists behind her back.

"Father?" she asked, through a haze of bewildered lust.

"The demons are still fighting to tempt you with selfish lust. Fight for your true desire to serve the church. We must unveil all of Alura's gifts, so you may be redeemed."

"My pants?" she asked in a small voice. "But Father, my thoughts are so, so tempting."

"We'll wait for the last until you've gathered strength."

"Thank you," she sighed.

"For Alura has already revealed the first six to us!"

He knelt down in front of her, pulling her lips onto either side of the thin strip of fabric left which was all that remained of the crotch of her jeans. Quickly, he threaded a cord through all six rings, in spite of her squirming and moaning, until her sex was laced around the strip. The experience was so intense that she barely registered it when the attendant bound her wrists behind her back and blindfolded her.

"Now, child. See how you have been bound to the true faith, that no demon may permanently overcome you. If Alura had freed you, you would feel no further lust and temptation in this holy place. Let us see if your bonds are sufficient."

The priest threaded a thin cord through the golden chain, then tied the ends to her nipple piercings. She yelped when he pulled her forward, tugging on the three piercings.

"Tell me child, are you free of temptation?"

Angela just panted, struggling not to whimper between the tugging on her lips and nipples, the maddening pulling on her nether lip and the inescapable sensation of the strip of fabric dragging back and forth between them with each step. She felt pulled on by a divine power that defied all explanations, but assaulted by something deeper and more primal: a diabolical lust that threatened to overwhelm her. The two were woven together, and each prayer, each gesture of the kind priest seeking to deliver only plunged her further into conflict. With every fiber of her being, she pledged to give herself to the church until, God willing, she was redeemed.