Malice Maze

Chapter 10
Nanaia’s Faith

“God will protect me!” Nanaia cried out as she went through the door, closing her eyes to the world and landing on her feet on the other side. She could hear sounds all around her, sounds of pleasure, sounds of needs being filled, and unable to help herself she threw her eyes open.

At first she was ecstatic. She was within the Priest’s temple, among friends, among worshippers who sat in pews and prayed to the heavens and to their God. The priestesses would be there if the priest was there, meaning it was a day of worship, or a moment of worship.

Her happiness soon wavered to horror when she really glimpsed the scene before her. Standing at his altar, his podium removed and replaced by a redheaded woman, who appeared to have her mouth wrapped around a very intimate part of the priest’s body. The pews were filled with men of God doing depraved things to the women of God. They all were moaning, screaming, crying out their pleasure, and Nanaia, who had been happy to once again have been returned to her white priestess robes, that covered her neck to toes, now felt appalled she was one of them.

“Nanaia!” the priest cried out, happy to see the young priestess. He pushed his priestess away from his body and Nanaia was shocked to see it had been Tiffani, who was now fixing her lips and red lipstick. Nanaia stood with her mouth agape as the priest approached her, not bothering to pull the zipper of his pants up as he did so. Nanaia turned to the door she had come from and cried out in frustration at its sudden disappearance from existence.

“You have come to give yourself to God?” the priest asked, his footsteps slowly growing closer.

“I will give myself to God and no other!” Nanaia swore, repeating one of many vows she had taken when forced to be a priestess so many years ago.

“I am God,” the priest laughed, “or at least I am God’s human form. I am God’s Word; I am God’s Law, why can I not be God’s Body? To be with me is to be with God.”

“No,” Nanaia denied, shaking her head and refusing to look behind her. “No, it isn’t true. You are not God.”

The priest’s hands, oh goodness, Nanaia could not even remember the man’s name, wrapped around Nanaia’s body and pulled her to him. She could feel the hard member quivering against her backside, a member that had just been removed from Tiffani’s mouth. “All of these women are accepting these men as God,” the priest whispered into Nanaia’s ear, his hands traveling over the front of her robes until both his hands cupped her generous breasts tightly, pulling her hard against his body and massaging the two neglected pieces of flesh. Nanaia could not help but cry out with a slight pleasure. She had not chosen to live forever as a virgin, this had been forced upon her. However, would she have allowed just anyone to have touched her, to feel her, to tempt her? No, she had still made her promise to God. But his hands felt so nice, massaging her, tweaking her nipples, his cock rubbing against her buttocks pleasantly, her pussy, a part of her body also neglected, heating up with desire.

“No,” Nanaia muttered quietly, wishing to push the hands away from her, wanting to escape the growing desire that consumed her. No, she would not have been a perfect virginal figure if she had been left to her own devices, she knew her desire to be touched would be too much, but if she allowed this priest, this Man of God, to touch her, would God forgive her this? Was this priest truly God’s vessel, the desire that God himself had in him?

Nanaia’s feet were off of the ground and the priest was dragging her up to his altar, laying her on the stone slab, her breasts heaving with her hard breaths. She fought him, but not hard enough to make him believe she really did not want to be there. Already her body was on fire, screaming for someone to water the fire down and extinguish it. Her body betrayed her thoughts. Somewhere inside she knew she was disgusted, repulsed by the very idea of being touched. Yes she may have fought originally when forced to become a priestess because she was God’s Chosen, but she had grown up as a priestess. Being a priestess was all she knew.

The thought was forgotten when her robes were lifted up to reveal her bare pussy, a small streak of scarlet covering the most intimate of parts. The priest’s hand was trailing upwards, rubbing her thighs, massaging the taught muscles. His other hand was on her stomach, holding her down on the altar, though she had lost all need to fight. This need was too strong.

The priest’s lips found her delicate mound and his tongue flicked over her clit, slipping between increasingly wet lips. Nanaia cried out with joy, arching upwards, fighting his hand so she could writhe. That one flick was enough to have her head spinning with need. The priest was not done, though, he would not let it go with just a simple flick of his tongue. His tongue, the strongest muscle of the body, moved thickly over her clit, pressing, pulling, teasing. His teeth grazed over her clit, not too rough, just enough to have her cry out, to hear her small moans, to hear that soft voice enjoying the very essence of sex that teased throughout the room.

Nanaia’s hands needed to touch something, she itched to feel something under them, and when she could not reach the priest she reached for her own breasts. She ran her hands up the round orbs and gripped onto herself, remembering just the small instant of his hands on her when he had first touched her. This was pleasing the priest, to watch her enjoying him and feeling herself.

His tongue moved till it was inside of her, rubbing against her dripping velvet and tasting her. Nanaia writhed and allowed the feel, wanting more, practically begging for more. Her earlier ‘no’ was not forgotten as she said, “Yes, yes, oh God!” At the sound of God’s name the priest ripped his mouth away and crawled up Nanaia’s body.

“I will show you God,” he promised her. Nanaia wrapped her arms around his neck and could only think of how looking forward to it she was.

Reaching his hand down and around her ass he felt her wet opening and guided his length towards it. Her body was tight, new, never been used, not even a flick of her own fingers over her body. The priest had to fight not to grow too much larger with sudden desire, he wanted to fit in her before he gave way. He slipped in, his cock throbbing against her tight walls that closed in on him, welcoming him into her body. Nanaia cried out, half in pain, half in pleasure, enjoying the feel of him pushing in. She relished the very feel of his cock, her body trembling and convulsing around him in joy.

The priest rocked slowly at first, careful with his Virginal Vessel. He moved inside of her with ease and quiet need. He wanted to hurt her, to rock her, to thump inside of her with such force that he would never hold back, but he wanted her to enjoy the ride, to enjoy it until her toes curled and he revealed…

Nanaia’s legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him in deeper. The priest jerked, his whole body draining blood as it went straight to that throbbing part of him. Now he did speed up his pace, thrusting inside of her, filling her completely, then nearly emptying her, before filling her again. Nanaia cried out, over and over, with every thrust she grew wetter, her body responding to a primordial need she had not known was there. The feel of him inside of her was a feel she could not explain, a feel of utter pleasure, of reassurance. She ran her nails down his arms, knowing not what else to do with them, her body convulsing as his blood dripped down her fingers from her scratches, but something caught her eye. Even in his heady thrusts, his needed rush, she could see something was amiss. The flesh she had torn into should have bled more, not just a few droplets, and the wounds should not look black.

Above her the priest was laughing as he moved in and out of her and her body grew tense, her wetness began to cease, and still he thrusted. She had discovered the truth, or was close to discovering in, but the priest planned to fill her before she could pull away, before she was allowed to scream.

Around her his flesh began to peel off as if of its own accord. Still he filled her as mounds of pink flesh fell around her and revealed a black leathery skin beneath. A devil, a spawn of Satan, was on top of her, pushing in and out, throbbing, growing larger and harder, and she was screaming as black wings burst through his back and now only revealed the devil atop her. His skull like face was laughing and his lips leaned down and suckled upon her breast, biting her as she fought him, screaming for release. His taloned hands held her arms down, his body barely feeling her kicks, all he knew was the need to drive into her, further and further. His cock was so large she was only in pain now, and still he pushed, pushed, pushed, in and out of her, in and out. She screamed as the whole temple began to fade away. She was still lying on a stone altar, but she was in the devils’ playground now. The priestesses were gone, now just lesser demons sucking and fucking other devils. She was the only human left, and she was being raped by a demon who had done what he could to cloud her mind.

“Yes, Nanaia,” he moaned in his harsh gravelly voice. “Yes,’ he cried out, “you are no longer God’s vessel, you belong to me!” Hot spurts of himself filled her as he orgasmed inside of her, filling her with the devil’s seed, and still he moved inside of her. He kept at her while she screamed, which only made him want her more.

“Why do you think red is the color of hair for the priestesses?” the devil atop her asked. Thrust, slam, thrust, Nanaia cried out, not knowing what to say or if she could even answer, the only feeling she was aware of was the hard quivering cock filling her, making her wet again even though she hated the feel of him now, no longer wanted him on top of her. “It’s the color, because God does not need priestesses. All priestesses are the sacrificial lambs to keep the devils at bay, and you were the rightly chosen one!”

Another devil landed beside the one fucking her, reaching out for her, his claws wrapping around one of her breasts as the other devil who was fucking her, needing her, went back to suckling on her nipple, nipping and wanting. Nanaia cried out in fear as more of the devils landed beside her, circling her, several pairs of hands reaching out to her, ripping apart her robes so they could feel her.

In the mass of terror and the devils fighting over who would be inside of her next, Nanaia saw it in the distance like a shining glittering thing that would save her. The door. It had reappeared. Now… how would she be able to get to it?

Again the devil above her was filling her with his seed, but this time it slowed him down, seemed to be draining him, and as he pumped into her, filling her with every last drop, she felt him go slack. He did not even have time to bask in the glow of having taken the virginity of ‘God’s Chosen,’ for the next devil was pushing him out of the way and crawling on top of Nanaia, hard and ready to strike, his cock just as large as the last devil’s, and twice as hard. Nanaia could not take another raping of her body, she was sore and the wetness had once again disappeared, but all of these devils were ready for her.

Nanaia’s violet eyes went to the door that awaited her like a shining jewel, beckoning her to go through it, to escape back into the corridors of the maze. Nanaia did the one thing she had never tried before: she kicked. She kicked directly into the devil’s balls. He screeched out in pain and she threw herself off of the stone altar and into the many waiting hands of the devils. There were too many, how could she fight them all off? Hands cusped her sex and fingers slipped into her. Cocks were rubbed against her and everyone tried to pull her to the ground at once, the devil’s screaming at one another for a chance, the hoarse roar of their screeching voices deafening her. One devil managed to fall between her legs, slipping in and beginning his own administrations of her body, but another one threw him off of her, hoping to be the next one inside of her instead. Even as she was pulled at and molested, her body constantly in contact with some sexual advance or object the devils tore at one another. Several more devils wrestled her to the ground and found her entrance, raping her on the floor of the rocky chasm. They all wanted in her pussy, to feel her inside, to rape her, to fill her. She was thrusted into, even as she crawled to escape. Claws held her down as one fucked her while she lay on her stomach, his cock hitting her cervix hard, her lips crying out in pain, and still the devils screeched with need. The devil on top of her came and filled her, the seed dripping out of her body and onto the stony floor. The next devil found her opening as she crawled even closer to the door, slipping in her, thrusting hard. Again she had grown wet against her will and she was between crying out in pain and pleasure, enjoying the administrations while hating the rape of her body. In and out this devil went, and she could almost reach the door, her fingers brushed it, just the tips, but it was enough to know she was so close to safety.

She was thrown up into the air as a devil pulled her away from one, and when she came down another devil was waiting. He gripped her in his arms and made her straddle his lap, his cock finding its way inside of her and pushing deep and hard. He pushed and pushed, thrusting more and more, and Nanaia was exhausted. This was not the way to lose your virginity, it was too much, but whatever powers they had they would not allow her to stay dry for long. Always with the new cock she grew wet again, clinging to the leathery skin of the devil, allowing him to bounce her up and down, her scarlet hair thick with sweat and clinging to her body like droplets of blood. In and out the devil went and others once against found her breasts, her ass, and the door was further away from her now.

When she was taken from the last devil, another devil ready for her, aiming her for him, she finally broke free, her kicks aimed at the right place, crushing the devil’s favorite organ against him. She moved with a speed she did not know, even though devils flew down to her, ready to take her as their brethren had, many claws and talons scraping at her skin, wings blocking her path, cocks trying to slip inside of her. She kept moving for that door, reaching the doorknob as if it were her last hope. She yanked the door open and flung herself through the door, the door slamming behind her. On the floor of the black corridor of rocks in Malice Maze Nanaia’s body convulsed first with need, then repulsion, her whole body reliving every orgasm until her own body finally had its own orgasm, cumming as she writhed on the floor. When all was over with she sat up, her face stained with tears, and in her slighted mind she realized she was again wearing the shift she had entered the maze in, but every mark those devils had put on her body had come through with her.