>>6422

>>6422


Draped in a pure-white shawl and embroidered robes, intricately woven and cut to hide none of her hourglass figure and reveal her chest, torso, and nethers, Sister Marisa knees at the foot of the statue of the Divine Avatar. As she recites scripture from memory, her delicate fingers slips inside her slit. She grabs one of her massive, heavy tits and sucks on her nipple, drawing squirts of her own milk.

“Oh, Divine Avatar, I pray that you will accept my offering and forgive the sins of this world.” With each word, her hands move faster. She fingers her vagina harder. Girlcum dribbles down her inner thigh and sprays out to a dish laid out before her. “With my womb, I will take on the impurities. And with my death at the flames, let them be cleansed from this world— aah!”

When she speaks the end of the verse, she pictures the finale of today’s ritual. Marisa sees herself at the stake. She could nearly feel the flames boil and melt the fat in her tits, sear and fry the succulent cuts of meat in her thighs and hips, and reduce her bones to ash.

Her tantalizing fantasies bring her to orgasm. She cries out, squirting like a fountain into the dish.

And with that, her preparations are complete. Marisa lifts the dish and drinks the contents— the Faith’s holy water. Mixed within, a drug to keep Marisa alive, if only technically, until it was time for her sacrifice. And also, the strongest aphrodisiac known to man. Her cum has laced itself in it and made it all the more potent.

The effect is near immediate. Pain and pleasure are heightened beyond what humans were designed for— not that those were different sensations, for Marisa.


A priest enters the sanctuary to find Marisa near-catatonic, doubled over in a pool of her own cum and half-unconsciously fingering herself to a fifth or sixth climax.

He slaps her ass. The orgasm jolts her awake.

“Come. It’s time for the Ritual of Cleansing, slut.”



The Ritual of Cleansing happened once every ten years. That is to say, there was only one chance every ten years to fuck the living daylights out of the sexiest slut priestess of that generation.

Forget piety. Nobody in their right mind would ever pass up the opportunity to participate.


Marisa stepped out into the sun and witnessed the carnival of debauchery unfolding in the town square. Those not fortunate enough to have access to her body were holding their own miniature spin-offs of the ritual— whores and lesser slut priestesses alike accepted the sinful desires of the populace, no matter how depraved.


Marisa looked to her side and saw one of her fellow sisters locked in a guillotine.

“Accept my desire to behead you!” A man fucked her like an animal.

“Of course! Please! The Divine Avatar wills—”

And he let go of the rope before she could finish her sentence.


To her other side, separated from the commoners, Marisa saw a noblewoman, her lacy velvet dress in tatters, eating a finely seared cut of breast meat. The former owner of that breast, a local whore, had her head firmly sandwiched between the noblewoman’s thighs. The whore’s breasts had been slashed off, and her legs were uneven stumps as well. A metal band contraption was wrapped around her head. The color of her face was draining fast. Knowing that she was about to bleed out, the whore ate out the noblewoman with all the strength she could muster.

As the noblewoman came, she yelled, “Accept my desire to crush your head with my legs!”

And with a flick of a button, the noblewoman closed her legs, and the metal band burst the whore’s cranium open like a trap.


Small pyres were scattered across the city, burning the corpses of the lesser sluts. The smoke rose to the heavens, where the Divine Avatar would surely purify them. Led by an entourage of priests and knights, Marisa was led to the coliseum, where the most important figures of society— and some lucky chosen few— were waiting.


Marisa was laid out on an obsidian slate, one that had absorbed much of the harsh sunlight. As her buttocks— still red from the priest’s wake-up-slap— touched down on the surface, it sizzled a little. She moaned.

The head priest was saying something to the crowd, but Marisa was too busy enjoying the pain and surveying the crowd to hear what he was saying.

Finally. It was time.


The first sinner was the head priest.

“Slut priestess! Accept my desire! I’ve always wanted to rape you!” He ripped off her raiments and plunged his dick into her. He pinned her body to the burning obsidian and drilled into her.

“Yes! Yes, Your Holiness! Rape me! Rape me to your heart’s content!” Her back, her ass, her pussy, her whole body was assaulted by sensations she could only perceive as white-hot pleasure.

Ever fiber of her being wanted it.


The second sinner was the country’s king.

“Accept my desire to impregnate you!”

And a sinful desire it was— it was well rumored that the king was impotent, and yet, he refused to believe it. He’d executed five of his previous queens to avoid facing that reality, so much so that “The Queen’s Execution” had become something of an annual celebration, much like this one.

Marisa wrapped her legs around the king’s hips as he came. Hardly a minute had passed.

And the festivities continued.


The ninth sinners was a wealthy merchant.

“Accept my desire to choke you to death on my cock!”

“Please! Kill me on your dick!”

Marisa was still laid out on her back. He yanked her head down backwards and implanted her mouth. He wrapped his hands around her neck and tightened her throat, as if using a cocksleeve.

And he fucked her. Her face grew more and more purple, but the holy water drugs kept her alive. The incessant squirting of her pussy and bucking of her hips signaled that to the rest of the crowd.


The twenty-fifth sinner was a tanned, gladiator woman. “Accept my desire to beat you to death!”

By this point, Marisa could hardly form words. Not that the gladiator waited. Scissoring the slut priestess’s pussy with her own, the gladiator clenched her fist and slammed it into Marisa’s stomach.

Marisa let out an orgasmic howl.

And the gladiator kept pounding. Pounding Marisa’s vagina with her own, pounding Marisa’s tits with her fists, pounding Marisa’s skull with her knuckles.

By the gladiator’s own climax, Marisa was little more than a flattened pulp. But the holy water worked its magic, slowly restoring her physical body to a more fuckable condition.


The seventy-first sinner was the country’s crown prince, a young boy of eight or nine. He looked nothing like the king, and more like the king’s favorite concubine and the concubine’s favorite knight.

By this point, the festivities had gone well into the night, and showed no signs of slowing down. The prince approached Marisa, not certain of where to look.

“Um… accept my desire to, um…” His eyes trailed to her hands.

The longer the prince dawdled, Marisa’s brain slowly mended itself, just enough. “You want my hands?”

“Your arms are very pretty…” The prince asked, “Can you accept my desire to take your arm?”

Marisa rose from the stone slate and reached to gently touch the prince’s cheek— though the prince’s maid slapped her semen-covered hands away. “Oh dear, you don’t need to ask. As the slut priestess, it’s my duty to accept all of your desires.”

“Then… I want to cut off your arm. Use your cut off arm and your other arm to accept my desire.”

“As you wish, your majesty.”

The prince’s maid handed him a sword. With a single swing— half-practiced skill and half-inherited from his mother’s knight— he sliced her arm off at the shoulder. Marisa knelt before the prince, wrapping her dismembered arm’s fingers around the boy’s member and sucked.

Once the prince had come twice, he picked up her arm and turned to leave, but his maid stopped him.

“Young master, you mustn’t remove any parts of the slut priestess. All of her must be delivered to the Divine Avatar.”

“But I want it! I want it!”

Ignoring her liege’s tantrum, the maid calmly took the arm from him and tossed it back to Marisa, and then retrieved the prince’s sword. “If you must, you may take mine.”

“Hmph! Fine, but I’ll punish you!”

“As you wish.”

The arm-fetish prince swung twice. The maid’s delicate arms fell to the ground. As she lost her balance, he drove the sword through her chest. Sheathing his weapon and retrieving his prize, the prince returned to the castle, leaving another toy for the impatient sinners at the coliseum.



Seeing that dismemberment was no longer off the table, Marisa made it to the next morning without any limbs remaining, though the priests did draw the line at full-on beheading. By the time she had accepted the desires of all the sinners in the stadium, three days had passed.

Marisa had spent that entire time fucking the sins out of the people. Truly, she was one of the finest slut priestesses in centuries.

That said, the lack of limbs actually proved to be a problem, when it came time to burn her at the stake. After all, burnings typically involved binding the slut priestess by her arms and legs.

Luckily, the priests got creative. They propped her limbless torso against the stake and garroted her neck to the pole. While they prepared the final pyre, the head priest returned.

“As a reward for your excellent service, I will permit you to pleasure yourself while you burn.”

Though Marisa could no longer understand him, she got the gist once one of the priests inserted her severed arm into her pussy, letting the sinners’ semen gush out. As they lit the pyre, she rocked her hips with all her strength.

The flames licked at her thigh stumps. She came. They ignited her pussy as she fucked her own dismembered arm. She came. They burned through the layers of cum glued to her skin, boiling and popping the fat in her titties. She came.

By the time the fire burned up her hips and left nothing but a garrote to hang her neck, she met the Divine Avatar, she had become consumed by pleasure.

And this decade’s Ritual of Cleansing came to a close.

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Once again, I'd like to ask the OP if it's alright to post this elsewhere. Feedback is welcome!

Name:
Age: 23
Characteristic: Haughty. Doesn't realize just how masochistic she is. Sexually frustrated.
Setting: A beautiful princess has never been truly satisfied in sex, and has arranged a contest: whoever can bring her to orgasm will inherit all the riches in the land—- and will be able to strangle-fuck her to death. Having earned the approval of her ladies in waiting, you are the first contestant, and you will be the last.