Exorcism Gangbang

By Wynne Burroughs

Smashwords Edition

© Wynne Burroughs 2012

Cover © Can Stock Photo Inc. / katalinks

Contents

Exorcism Gangbang

About the Author

Exorcism Gangbang

The basement was humid and hot. The chains chafed against my wrists and ankles. Beads of sweat formed on my forehead.

I couldn't control myself—my body struggled, even though escape was hopeless.

Three priests stood across the room from me, illuminated only in the low light of one electric bulb. The oldest one's eyes pierced my soul. I prayed that he could free me from the monster inside me. The other priest standing behind him appeared apprehensive—as if he didn't believe what was going on. The youngest priest stood in the back. Terror filled his eyes.

The oldest priest watched me for a long moment and finally he spoke.

“Azazael? Is that you?” he said, “Belial?”

A voice build inside me. Months ago I would have struggled with it, but now I was too weak. A throaty growl erupted out of me.

I'll crush you skull and use it as a toilet.”

“Ah,” said the priest, “Good old Malphas. Douglas, get my crucifix.”

“I—I don't know if I should,” the middle priest said.

The old priest replied, “Now, Douglas. Get me that crucifix and the bottle.”

The priest disappeared up a flight of stairs and quickly returned with a small crucifix. It gleamed in the low light. It was cast out of some glistening metal—bronze, probably. It was a little longer than a foot and maybe an inch thick in the middle. The Christ figure on it was carefully carved. The bottle was tiny and contained a colorless fluid.

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