tagFetishLifting the Curse on Halloween

Lifting the Curse on Halloween

byyoubadboy©

I grew up on a farm with my parents, the youngest of seven brothers and sisters. As the youngest I was the one expected to stay home and care for my parents in their old age, whilst my oldest brother would take over the farm. Therefore, I knew that I would live on this farm for the rest of my life as a spinster. That was before Father Persson arrived, a new priest who had arrived after Father Nilson passed on in his sleep.

Father Persson was in his early 30's, and he stood at least a head above all the other men in the parish. At one of the services he saw me as I was looking at him, and the moment he caught my eye I looked away. Such behavior was wholly unacceptable. But he was knew and I was fascinate by his height. Later that week he arrived at the house, and so I quickly left the house and found chores to do in the barn. He was there to discuss my situation! In a short time he had purchased from my parents a indenture on my behalf for two years. The payment was exceptional, and he being the new priest and all my parents felt they could not refuse. So I, and all my worldly possessions, were loaded on his wagon the next week, and I was traveling to the rectory.

Never in my life had I seen such beautiful accommodations, even been near such things. I was given all new maidservant clothing, soaps, shoes, even undergarments. My room itself was at the back and top floor, and even this was like a mansion to me with tall ceilings, smooth walls. I had a floor under my feet! I was to rise at 4:30 am every morning to do my chores in the house, and there were two other girls - one much older. I worked hard, and avoided contact with Father. But he sought me out, would ask me questions, like “what is your name?”

“Lily” I responded in mortified terror.

He soon made me his personal maid, and moved my quarters next to his with a small passage for anything he required. This seemed acceptable to me. However, one of my chores was not. Never could I even imagine such a thing, but I did not know the world of the church and so had no say. One of my tasks was to bath him once each week. The first time I moved with fear, turned my entire head. I used the soap and rubbed his broad back and legs after I had filled the tub, and could not help but see his nude backside. After a few weeks though it became normal, and even desired. He was an attractive man and it effected me, though I would never admit it, I barely admit it to myself.

All Saints Day was approaching with the cooling weather, and I was mortified of Hallowed Eve, that night before All Saints when all manner of mischief occurred. One night while gathering some wood a group of boys had grabbed hold of me, held me so that two other boys wearing eye covers could kiss me on the mouth. I had never been kissed, and their rough kisses parted my lips and even touched my tongue with theirs. The effect on my body was terrible indeed and I confessed all to the priest who made me say an endless number of Hail Mary’s. From that date on I had this terrible fear. In conversation in the bath I relayed my fears and Father invited me to stay in his room on Hallowed Eve. I accepted.

The night arrived and I wore my heavy nightshirt and went into Fathers room. He was already in bed in his nightclothes. He looked up at me, smiled and patted the side of the bed. It was a double but not wide at all. When I got in I was right next to him. I was shaking now and he asked what the matter was. I answered that I was frightened of the ghosts and monsters out of doors at this hour. He told me there was no such thing and that he would keep me safe. Once settled for the night, with the lights out and all quiet I heard Father,

“Come in close dear and hold on to me if you are afraid.”

I was so I wrapped my arms around him. I could feel his hands on my body and rather liked the feel. But when he began to start kissing me, I pulled away suddenly. “Quiet now,” he said and, “Relax my Lily.” I laid still now and he continued to kiss me, and against all my better judgement I began to kiss him back. I felt his hands running down my side and then lifting my nightshirt. Then my sex was exposed and I could feel his hand there. It was the curse of Hallowed Eve I thought. Same as the boys in the woods. I remained still, afraid. There was no escape. His fingers moved through my sex, I could feel it though I could see nothing and indeed did not even know if it were him. Somehow I had gotten wet and slippery and at the same time dizzy and lightheaded. I was kissing him hard now and seeking his lips, I had completely surrendered to a carnal nature. In the depths of sin. What were the Hail Mary’s for this!

He was on top of me now and I felt the strength of his member, risen in a long pole now (as I must confess I knew his member by sight and feel because of the baths). I placed the pole at my sex and pushed inside of me. It was the most mortifying pain and first and I cried out. He remained still, and assured me that what I was feeling would pass, and that a pleasure surpassing understanding would replace it. Such was the price of Passion - Pain. I remained still as did he. And then his member began to slide within me. I could feel it, and the effect was magical, like a warmth and sensation which lifted me in the air. He continued to move upon me, kissing me softly and then roughly, until he stiffened and began to press into me hard and in successive jerks. And then rolled off to his side again. I could feel a stream running from within me. He has had intercourse with me, I thought, realizing that I was unmarried and that he was a priest. The anger welled up inside me, but I was afraid. I began to cry quietly as he fell off to sleep. I remember that evening praying to god to punish this man for what he had done, and to curse him so that he would be possessed by the devil which he was.

Thereafter, I was to be found in his bed at his pleasure. Three years passed and like all things I grew accustomed to his needs and ways. It became a normal part of my duties. So much so that when I and he slept at night we did not wear nightclothes, even on cold evenings. I can even remember when there were longer stretches of time when he did not touch me or when I would remain in my room, feeling a hunger in my sex for his member. I felt that once opened my sex must be fed as my mouth is fed. I relayed that once to Father saying, “my sex must be fed. It is hungry tonight.” He laughed and took me into the bed and ‘fed me.’ I had even forgotten my curse, feeling him to be a wonderful and warm and caring man, who also happened to be priest of my parish.

Three years hence then, one week before All Saints, a group of men ran to the house. Father Persson had fallen in the church sanctuary dead. There were no signs and no evidence of foul play. They had him in the wagon and he was promptly moved to the house. His body needed to be prepared quickly and as I was his personal maidservant the task fell to me as preparer. This was also very much like his bath, excepting Father was no longer there. He was laid out in one of the back rooms and so I began to take off his clothing. He required a last bath and dressing before being placed in his coffin and final resting place. But when I removed his clothes, what I saw! His member was hard like a pole. It was stiff and ready for entry inside a female sex. Never has such a thing occurred!

I waited one day. But upon entering still the member was stiff and at the ready. I had to speak to someone but did not wish for the parish to hear, as this would be a disgrace to Father. So I went to his superior in a nearby village. “Sir, it is about Father Persson.” “Yes, it is a shame for the Lord to take him away in the prime of his youth.” “Yes sir. But there is more than that.” “Yes my dear, speak.” I relayed to his delivery to the rectory and my preparation for his coffin, and then spoke, “Sir, when I was preparing Father, his organ sir is in an unusual state.” I did not want to convey that I even KNEW what it was, let alone that I had known it intimately. Sir it seems overfilled. “I see” was all he said, and he road with me his carriage behind mine. Three others arrived a little later with him and they went in the room to examine.

I could hear them inside. “This is frightful. He is surely possessed. We cannot give burial to him in this state.” Later that day they brought a priest who was a known exorcist in the area, a very successful one who could remove demons from persons, homes, and livestock. He spent all night with the Father to no effect. The member was yet standing upright. And I remembered. Oh, horror. I placed the curse. It was his member possessed by satan from my curse that long ago Hallowed Eve. I went to the Bishop and relayed to him my early time with Father Persson, to widening eyes I told him about a curse I had placed on the Father in anger, to widening eyes. I said it was done foolishly and in haste with no idea of an answer from God. The Bishop stared in shock at me, mouth open, his hairs literally rising on end. “Young miss, you are not entirely to be faulted. God has answered your prayer, so therefore your concerns were with some merit to God Almighty.” I went on, “I believe sir I know how to relieve the curse. Give me this evening in his room. Close the door and no interference.” He agreed.

I looked at the calendar and this evening was to be Hallowed Eve. I was wild with fright. I went into the room closed and bolted the doors and began to pray. “God forgive me my curse, I did not intend for it to be carried out. If I had only remembered I would have prayed the contrary prayer and alleviated this wretched curse.” I pulled back the sheet and his member was still hard, still ready. Looking on this white statue, with such stately beauty I remembered all of our wonderful, and intimate times together. I remembered washing his soft body, and being wrapped outside and in by his flesh in all carnal desire. In this reverie I felt my sex becoming aroused, indeed his sex was calling to mine. I was hungry and he it was who fed me. I knew what was needed.

I stripped off my clothing so that it was my thin white flesh, still filled with breath and life but whose sex was hungry to be fed. My small sex seemed so much smaller now in the candlelight next to his member - it was so overfilled. How did it all fit inside. I grew wetter at the thought and reached down between my legs and felt the silken moisture forming there. And I lifted myself up on the table on which he lay and straddled his torso. Lifting his sex with my hand I could feel the stiff member ready itself. I placed my sex down at the opening where Father had shown so many times and let my knees bend back and felt once more the rapture of being filled, of being fed. I rose and fell on the hard sex, pressing my arms down on the strong chest. There was no movement, no reaction. I grew wild with excitement and could feel the fluids rising in my body and I began to cry out as I never had when ‘he’ was in the room. I shuddered and fell onto the body. As I lay there I could feel his sex begin to slip out of me, for the last time. I also felt the release of fluids from my own sex, and so with a certain sadness I first held Father, and then let my trembling legs down onto the floor. I could feel fluids running down my legs and wiped myself with towels. I could see his member was no longer a rod, but a curled sex that could be considered as respectable for burial as any other. To be sure though, I convinced myself, I took his sex once more in my hand and felt the softness, squeezed lightly. There were still some drips. So I lowered my mouth, and parting my lips, fed my mouth with what had for so many years been my other mouth’s sole nourishment. I sucked heartily, and then what remained was a lovely small member which would fit inside a child’s hand.

I slowly redressed myself filled with sadness at this last parting, never taking my eyes from this man whose curse three years previously I had made, had also lifted once more on this Hallowed Eve. I left the room dressed, flushed, and tired. “It is lifted,” I said. “He is ready for proper burial.” The bishops and priests assembled sat there wide eyed, nodding, going into the chamber and seeing everything was as I had said. Praising God they left, and next day on All Saints he was buried before the whole parish.

I stood near the coffin, next to priests and bishops, saying goodbye, and knowing that this time I carried his child inside.

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