Lust's Price Ch. 09

Richard frowned at the sight of the neon sign. They appeared all over town almost overnight. Some were blue or green, but most of them were red. The one currently in his view flashed an image of a cackling devil. Richard had never been one to turn a blind eye to the seedier parts of the world. He believed that in order to guard his flock, he must know the wolves. If these new establishments were any indication, the town had been given to the wolves on a silver platter.

He sighed and leaned back in his car seat, trying to let the tension in his shoulders ease. His congregation had been pressuring him to take action. They demanded he lead the cause to protect their town. This crusade was as much his own doing as it was theirs, but, even after proselytizing for weeks about the tendency of mankind to err into sin and that sin can creep in around the edges when vigilant churchgoers stare only ahead, he had no course of action. Richard had first relied on the mayor, but that door closed to him quickly. The secretary turned his stomach the way she looked at him, licking her lips and letting her hands wander under the desk. The mayor himself had a gleam in his eye strong enough to make a nun cross herself. Richard had long known of the mayor's poor moral fiber, but thus far it had been confined to lining his own pockets while the rest of the world went on undisturbed. Sin, it seemed, did creep in along the edges.

The workers installing the new signs suddenly looked down. A man had stepped out of the dark of the new club's interior. Richard recognized him from the newspapers. Greg Myers, the man responsible for the corruption of Richard's hometown. Greg looked up at the workers and called out some instructions. Watching the stranger, Richard worried the subtle tendrils of envy had grasped his own soul as well. He knew from the paper that he and Greg were the same age, but Greg looked to be in the prime of his life. He lacked Richard's graying hair and the pallid complexion brought on by too much time in a study rather than the sun. Greg's body filled out his clothes with muscle and stature while Richard's stained and frayed outfit clung to him like poorly applied cellophane, sticking in every possible unflattering spot. He tried to remember that his wife and his daughters loved him for who he was, but the thought was hollow.

"Afternoon, preacher."

The voice shattered Richard's daydream in which he was the one with the Adonis like body. Greg had crossed the street and rapidly approached the open window. Richard feigned a polite smile, "Afternoon, uh, Mr. Myers."

Greg reached the car and bent over to lean against the hood while craning his neck down to look Richard in the eye. "Seems we both have reputations preceding us. You're the pastor at the First Church of the Redemption, right?"

Richard's mouth stuck together as though he'd swallowed cotton. "Yes, that's right," he managed to eek out after a cough.

"You wouldn't think it now, but I used to attend regularly years ago, when I was a boy."

"We'd love to have you back," Richard offered, but as the worlds left his lips, he realized how much he didn't mean them. Greg made him nervous. The man was too confident, too eager, like a starving man slathering over a steak dinner.

"Church isn't exactly my scene any more. What do you think of the sign? I think it's my favorite so far."

Richard glanced at the cackling devil once again as Greg beamed proudly. "It is certainly something."

"What brings you to our neck of the woods, anyway, preacher?"

It was not a threat. The question teetered on the line between "I have to wait around anyway so why not explore with mild curiosity the lives of others" and "I know what you are and don't like your kind coming here, leave." Richard jerked his head towards the dress store on the other side of his car, "Just waiting on my girls. They're shopping."

"Oh, you have kids? I have a daughter myself."

"Yes, two, Nikki and Carrie. But they're grown now. We just met for lunch, and they wanted to take a look around for a bit."

"And you waited in the car," Greg smiled as his fingers drummed methodically on the roof. "Smart man. My wife drags me around with her no matter where we go. Well, I won't keep you. It was nice talking with you." He offered his hand to Richard, who took it slowly and shook. "Say, I might bring the family and visit that church again. What time's service in the morning?"

Greg's hand was strong around Richards. More than that, it was cold, despite the summer warmth. Richard felt faint and dizzy, as though his life was slipping away from him. "Starts at eleven, usually runs till noon." Greg released his hand and slapped hard on the roof of the car.

"That's great. We'll be there with bells on." Greg's eyes shot up. "These must be your daughters. Don't trouble about introductions, I'll make myself scarce. Until tomorrow."

Richard watched the man walk away as his daughters climbed into the car, chattering happily between themselves. Something about Greg Myers was wrong, Richard knew it as much as he knew anything.

--

Greg watched the preacher drive away from the shadow of the Devil's Den bar. The church was weak. It could be safely ignored. Greg's plan neared completion. It would take another week, two at the most, and then the whole city would be delivered to him. Richard Parks. The name rattle around in Greg's mind like an irritating fly. The air of righteousness lingered about the so called holy man, an ill applied perfume barely masking the stink underneath. I should let it go. That would be the smart thing to do. Not worth the time. The two daughters though...it's been a while since I've gone out to play. Weak is not broken.

***

The pastor lingered in his study. In the adjoining sanctuary, he could hear the settling of his flock. They can wait a while longer. He held his Bible close to his chest. The deacons had left him alone after a group prayer. They too had entered the sanctuary smiling at their old friends and shaking the hands of any newcomer. Each of them would grin and tell Greg Myers they were glad to see him. Richard had spied the Myer family in the parking lot and been racked with envy since. Greg's wife was a beautiful as Greg's daughter. They were the smiling pinnacle of an American family. And everyone was glad to see them. How many of my flock are already under that man's sway? How many have betrayed the teaching of this church for a pouch of silver?

He leaned back against the stiff, wooden chair. Richard was no monk, but did think that his study should be free of comfort. What place did comfort have in serving God? God would give all the comfort needed. He tried to quiet his thoughts and reached out in prayer. Richard murmured to himself and focused on hearing a voice he had never heard before. The nag had always been present. Since the day he enrolled in the Seminary, a year after his wife's death, he'd been listening for the voice of God. Others could hear it, he was certain of that, but they were few among many. Richard convinced himself that a man of God was not one who heard the Lord's voice at any whim, but one who listened at all times. He envisioned it as leaving open a microphone at a podium. So long as it was there, God could appear. It remained empty.

Richard did not feel weak in his faith as he rose from the hard back chair. The murmurs in the sanctuary had gone quiet. He opened the Bible in his hand to make sure he had his notes. On one page, he had scribbled a lecture about Noah and how it applied to life today. On the other, he had addressed the creeping of sin, written late into the previous night, while the smiling face of Greg Myers plagued his thoughts. His hand shook as he opened the study door. It slammed loudly behind him as he made his way down the hall to the sanctuary.

The room fell silent as he entered. Richard smiled and waved to no one in particular. His flock had attended, though a little thinner once again. Another poor soul lured in by the neon lights. His two daughters sat on the front row, Nikki in a pretty blue dress and Carrie in a light green. They chatted quietly with the girl sitting next to them which made Richard's lip wrinkle. Emily Myers. Beside her sat her mother, Victoria, and third, beaming fiendishly, Greg. Beyond those vivacious three sat his congregation. A few spots of life bloomed with younger families, but the majority looked sickly and old or grey and squat. Resentment flared in Richard like gall creeping up the back of his throat. Why were all so gruesome? Where had he failed to bring in new blood? This collection of widows and widowers was an embarrassment. They all groaned and creaked, like his old chair, as the song leader directed them to rise for the opening prayer.

The room came to life with a drone. Richard followed along, watching the Myers family out of the corner of his eye. They sang enthusiastically, their voices cutting through the normal dull sound with ease. A few others in the congregation noticed the new family as well and murmured about them as they were told to sit back down. The proceedings continued as announcement were made, an offering was collected, and various people prayed several more times. All the while Richard waited nervously, reading through his notes again and again. Finally, he was given the pulpit. He rose on shaky legs and went to give his sermon.

"Good morning, friends. Aren't we lucky to be gathered here today in the Lord's house, amen?" They echoed the word back. "We're gonna hold off on opening your Bibles for a little bit because we need to address some things much more immediate to our community. Now I'm sure that many of you have seen the new businesses opening up around town. You've seen the men and women who frequent these establishments. Many of you have come to me and expressed your worry about the secular world bleeding into our sacred lives more and more. This is not a new problem. Followers of God have railed against the secular world, that is the world that goes against our Lord, we have railed and rallied against that for two thousand years. We will continue to do so until this world ends and we are brought gloriously into the next. But!" The flow of his speech emboldened him. The nods of his congregation strengthened his resolve, but the most enjoyable change in the room was in the downfallen look on Greg Myers's face. "We face an enemy among us this moment that is more tenacious and cunning than we have ever faced before. Were you to look at our town a month or two ago and compare it to now, you would think that the Great Adversary himself had set his cold gaze on us. Good young men spend their days in establishments of ill repute. Young women dress their bodies in a way that is shameful to those who uphold good teachings. In these trying times, we have only ourselves to rely on. Through our faith, we can resist the slide into damnation that can come so easily. We must gird ourselves in the righteousness of the Lord. Armored as such, we must go among those who have lost the way. These sinful activities that the wayward have pursued offer no solace. Liquor, gambling, adult relations these do not offer succor in the time of hardships, but are hollow ash offered to a hungry soul. It is our duty to go and offer true nourishment through scripture."

"Amen!" The voice called out clear and strong from the front row. Greg looked at the pastor with baleful eyes and a wicked smile.

Richard faltered. For a moment, he had felt something, strength brought on through passion. Perhaps the strength of God neared him for a moment, but as he looked at the Myers family, his heart quailed and bitterness returned. Had he imagined it? Red skin and black claws? His mind dared not to revisit the other characteristics of the creatures he glimpsed for a moment. He slid the notes aside and returned to his prewritten sermon. "Now then, let us open our good books."

***

The remainder of the service went by without incident. The Myers family followed along no differently than anyone else. Richard felt Greg's malicious stare through the whole thing, though he was not certain it was real or not. He went through the normal rationalizations that anyone goes through when seeing something impossible. Too little sleep, too much stress, maybe a bit of bad food playing with his mind. None of them seemed likely and the Myers family, despite their pristine veneer, could not avoid exuding an otherworldly demeanor as they sat amongst his flock.

The service ended. Richard made his way to the church entrance to shake hands with everyone as they left. The short conversations, the inquiries about various families, and the compliments on his sermon helped to distract him from thoughts of Greg Myers. But as the line went on, he felt a sense of foreboding. The Myers family was not in the line, but loitering at the front of the church, deep in conversation with Nikki and Carrie. It did not worry him until the deacons, who usually hung about to clean the sanctuary and deal with the offering plates, left one after the other with a wild excuse. As the last left, Richard closed the church doors and turned around to confront Greg.

"Mr. Myers, I hope you enjoyed the service."

Greg stepped out of the small circle of women and stood between Richard and the pulpit. "It was enlightening. I must say it takes some bravery to condemn a man to his face. But I have been condemned for a while now. My moment of judgment has come and gone. In your eyes, I failed in that judgment, but in the eyes of my master, I was welcomed with heralding moans of pleasure. What will come of your judgment?"

"Only God can judge me," Richard answered resolutely.

Greg grinned. "Let's find out about that." Richard and his daughters sensed something change. If they had time to give a real comparison, they might have ventured a comparison to the shift in pressure right before or after a heavy rainstorm. The air around them simmered with energy almost humming like the air around an electrified fence. It confused Richard, but only for the briefest moment. Before his eyes, Greg Myers revealed himself. Richard gasped and staggered back. The suit Greg wore melted, disappearing entirely as the man grew an extra foot in height. Muscle rippled into existence as his skin turned a dark red. Black eyes glittered down at Richard as horns split out from Greg's skull. The monster let out a guttural laugh at the look of horror on Richard's face while his wife and daughter cackled gleefully, each keeping a firm hand on either of Richard's daughters. The grip was unneeded as they caught sight of the enthralling tool between Greg's thighs. His tail lashed wildly from side to side as black cum oozed from the tip of his flaccid cock. "What do you think Richard? Have I been judged too harshly?"

Richard wanted to run, but his legs refused to move. He looked helplessly beyond the demon in front of him to his two daughters. They didn't struggle or scream, but watching with almost eager intent. With no where else to turn, Richard relied on the only thing he could think of. "Our Father who art in heaven, hallowed be thy --"

"None of that prattle," Greg growled. His taloned hand rose and fell in one quick motion. Richard cried out as the claws slammed into his shoulder. Pain splintered down to his fingertips, and he collapsed forward onto the church floor. Warmth flooded down his back and nausea came over him in waves. "Don't worry, it's not permanent. By the end of this, you'll be one of my favorite pets. But first, the girls deserve their prize." Greg grabbed hold of him and another yelp of pain filled the air. Richard was thrown over a shoulder as though he weighed nothing. Greg carried him to the front pew and dropped him, roughly. The demon then turned his attention to the pulpit, knocking the podium out of the way as he cleared the area. While Greg stalked over to retrieve the offering plates, Victoria and Emily lost their glamors as well. Even with the pain and fear, Richard could only gawk at the lewd creatures transforming before him.

Their clothes melted away, and their breasts grew out to obscene proportions. Their skin tinted red and barbed tails grew out from the top of their lush asses. Fangs gleamed behind plump lips, small horns appeared at their temples, and their eyes turned to the glittering black of night. Richard felt his cock stir in his pants, and he called out to the heavens silently for help. "You lack conviction," Victoria taunted. "You don't really want to be saved from this." She grabbed her ass with one clawed hand and squeezed as she cackled. Emily, meanwhile, was busy undressing Nikki and Carrie. Each of them gladly stripped as they pawed and pulled at Emily's body. "Good girls. Thirsty for cock. Ready to get rid of those nasty little souls. Get on all fours."

Greg returned carrying the two offering plates in each palm. They were silver, shallow bowls that had been filled many times with gifts of charity. He dropped them on the ground beneath Nikki and Carrie. The two girls looked up in worship at the giant demon as his cock bobbed inches from their upturned faces. Victoria and Emily took positions behind them, legs spread to play with their own pussies while their tails teased up and down the poor girls slits. "Drink from me and ascend. Become my whores." The two girls eagerly licked at his cock. Pulses of the black ichor oozed from the tip as they worked. Neither could fit it in their mouth, but they did their best to try. Greg never tired of the feeling of tongues slathering up and down his massive rod. With a nod to his demonesses, the two women speared into Nikki and Carrie's pussies. The women all moaned, and Greg looked down on them with pride. "Now Richard, you will see the reward of those judged fairly." He let go his control, and his orgasm began immediately. Thick globs of black cum splashed in Nikki's face. She lapped at it as though she were starving for it. Carrie was not to be left out. She pushed her sister aside and tried to wrap her mouth around the tip of Greg's spurting cock. She managed to swallow down two waves before the third spilled out of her mouth and down her chin.

The changes came slowly. Carrie's skin turned bright red as though she were burning from the inside out, but her changes were cursed to a slow simmer. Nikki cried out in orgasm again and again as her tits swelled bigger and bigger. Her reddening flesh rippled and expanded in pulses as she moaned and licked at Greg's cock while Emily's tail fucked her. Despite expanding to the size of basketballs, her tits didn't sag or droop. Instead, her areolas grew wider and wider to cover the fat tits while her nipples grew dark and long. She grunted in ecstatic pain as Greg reached underneath her to tease the sensitive flesh. A slight tug and a stream of black milk gushed from the swollen orbs. The warm milk clattered into the offering plate beneath her.

Carrie, meanwhile, faced a different set of problems. Her breasts had grown larger, but not nearly as obscene as her sisters. Instead, she felt sensitive nubs underneath them. Her transforming demonic face split into a wide grin as she realized her destiny. The bumps underneath her tits swelled faster and faster. Within seconds, the second pair of breasts pushed against Carrie's original set. Pleased with his work, Greg reached underneath his new harlot and tugged on the second set. Milk dripped out slowly from each while Carrie writhed and gasped. Greg brought his hand up to caress her face, his thumb running along the tip of her fangs before he shoved his cock into her mouth. She gulped quickly, swallowing as much of his length as her newly inhuman mouth could. With each inch of the thick rock moving into her throat, her four tits started to gush milk into her own offering plate.