Alpha Priest

Alpha Priest was tired. He was drowning in a sea of demon pussy and he wasn’t sure how much longer he could fight it off. He had spent hours in the confession box listening to women tell him what they wanted him to do to their boxes and it had worn him down like the ocean wears down rock. Alpha Priest wasn’t smooth though. He was as jagged as the day he had been born but he was exhausted. They would line up on Sundays with things they had made him to eat, their dresses low enough for him to get some sort of idea what their tits were like underneath. A taster. Like a slider that can also be bought as a full sized burger. They were offering more than a slider. This was a piece of the burger and all he had to do was reach out. Alpha Priest always refrained though. He had consulted the Bishop but his bullshit solutions always revolved around praying. What the fuck would Jesus know about demon pussy? Alpha Priest chastised himself when he had such thoughts. His frustrations often made him weak and prone to faggoty outbursts. He hoped one day he’d figure out what to do with all this poon.

The supermarket was busy. He needed meat. Alpha Priest stood looking at all the choices in front of him and tried to decided which one he’d go with. He liked the look of the T-bone, but he hadn’t had chicken for a while. He was always hesitant to buy chicken because he felt it was a meat more geared towards woman and homosexuals. Someone tapped him on the shoulder. A light and feminine touch with a pinch of eroticism. It was a touch that said, “look at me and fuck me in any hole you want,” and he knew it had to be demon pussy. “Hi, Father,” said the woman whose face he had seen before but whose name wouldn’t come to him.
“BEGONE DEMON PUSSY!!” said Alpha Priest and the demon pussy hissed like a thousand snakes in a pit. The pit was the meat section of the local supermarket. The demon pussy charged him with its mouth open and he backhanded it into display case of sausages. “BEGONE DEMON PUSSY!!” said Alpha Priest, again.
“Just let me touch it once,” said the demon pussy from the beneath the pile of phallic shaped meat products it had been cast into.
“Not in this lifetime,” said Alpha Priest and he dragged the demon pussy up by the hair and snapped it’s neck in a motion that resembled someone taking the lid off an over tightened jar. He felt like an archangel.

The Bishop knocked on his door the next day as he was doing his nine thousand and eighty first push-up for the day. “I heard you murdered a woman.”
“That was no woman.”
“What was it then?”
“Demon pussy.”
“And what is that?”
“Jesus, Bishop. Have you never been poon hunted?”
“Father, what the hell are you talking about?” said the Bishop.
“Cursed vaginas stalk me in the day and plague my thoughts at night. They line up to tempt me to the dark side. I have fought back the rising tides of involuntary boners and ruined underwear, but I will tell you now, Bishop, I cannot hold out for much longer,” said Alpha Priest.
“You must allow whatever is to happen, happen my son,” said the Bishop and Alpha Priest went back to his push ups. In the distance he could hear the howl of demon pussy on the gentle morning breeze that he could feel run up his sweaty back as he lowered himself onto the floor.

On a morning jog and they came for him in a van. “GET IN THE VAN YOU HOT MOTHERFUCKER,” said one of them.
“WE’RE GOING TO DRAIN THOSE HOLY BALLS,” said another.
“WE’RE GOING RIDE THAT LORD’S SWORD UNTIL IT’S DEGLOVED,” said another. Alpha Priest stood there staring at them and the words of the Bishop came to him. Let whatever is to happen, happen or as Sam Cooke would say: Don’t fight it, feel it. “Very well. Do what you have to,” said Alpha Priest and he was led into the van. Inside there were forty-five demon pussies, all of which he had seen at some point but could not for the life of him remember their names. His clothes were torn from him until they were nothing more than shreds of rags lying on the van’s floor. He stood there completely naked and waited for whatever was going to happen, happen. Within seconds, forty-five sets of hands were grabbing at him like a horny teenage boy might grab at a pair of tits. Hands were everywhere. On his face, up his arse, on his Alpha cock and all over his ball sack. He let it happen. He tried not to think of the Bishop but it was his words that had brought him to this point. All he cared about was whether the hands that were in his mouth had also been in his arse. They tasted ok, but what did his arse taste like?

This went on for days and he held out like a champ until everything within him could no longer be held in. All hands were on deck rubbing and tugging and probing and Alpha Priest had to let it all out. A beam of light shot out of his dick and incinerated the demons attached to it at the time. Then out of his eyes shot the same light that turned to ashes the demonic forms attempting to sit on his face. Light shot out of every orifice on Alpha Priest’s body until there was nothing left of the demon pussies but charred cinders and ash and from these ashes Alpha Priest arose, covered in the remains of those that tried to drag him to hell. He left the van, naked and walked home. Bits of charred demon chaffed between his arse cheeks but he felt good. The Bishop’s advice had been right. Sometimes you just had to let shit happen.

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