Chapter 4: The Fall Of St. Michael’s

Sunlight streamed through the open window of Francis’ kitchen on a beautiful autumn day. The temperature was mild and a light breeze blew through the open window, carrying the scents of fresh fruit and warm oatmeal throughout the humble abode. Classic “big band” jazz music blared from a radio on the counter as Jessica and Francis sat at the kitchen table with a chess board in between them.

The pair were freshly showered after a long morning romp that had satisfied both their thirsts. Jessica had a white bathrobe wrapped around her curvy mocha body and a light blue towel adorned her drying hair. Francis sat in a plain, white t-shirt, a fresh pair of boxers and nothing else.

The self-satisfied Succubus fed herself fruit medley piece by piece as she watched him mull over his next move. It had been several years since she enjoyed a game of chess and Francis had a wonderful stonework set that looked like it had never been touched before.

“Do we need a game clock? You’re taking way too long.”

“Give me a break! I haven’t played since I was a boy.”

“You’re very good at making excuses, I’ll give you that. Why not be decisive and take your beating like a man? You already do in the bedroom.”

“Believe it or not, I still have a smidgen of pride.”

“Until I claim that as well.”

Francis chuckled. “You’re cruel.”

“Mmmhmm ... and you love it.”

Much had changed in the three weeks since the pair had visited “The Rubber Room.” Was this even still Francis’ home? One could argue it was her house now. She was spending most nights there and making virtually all the decisions in the household.

The convent and church were coming under her control more rapidly than Jessica had envisioned. Victoria and Evelyn had taken their new circumstances surprisingly well after the initial shock wore off. Abigail had needed more time to process things and a bit more convincing, but she had fallen in line as well and was now a loyal devotee to their cause.

More than half the sisters have already been “gifted.” That was the term Jessica and her immediate circle had agreed upon for now. Mother Superior had gone into isolation since receiving her gift. She ate little and refused to speak with anyone most days.

As she waited for Francis to decide on a course of action, Jessica pulled a compact mirror from her handbag and opened it to have look at herself. She ensured her towel was still wrapped properly atop her head and then inspected her face. Her eyes lit up and her eyebrows raised as she noted improvements with glee.

The “first signs of aging” that she had seen only a month ago were gone now. The beginnings of wrinkles had completely disappeared. Her eyelashes looked longer and fuller. Her skin shone with health and vibrancy. She wasn’t even using a regiment of creams.

Ever since Jessica had claimed her gift and dominated Francis she found that she looked a little better every day. Each time she drank his essence, or that of any male submissive, she could feel her body grow more youthful, attractive and strong. It was a powerful, rapturous sensation and she couldn’t get enough of it.

“Alright” Francis muttered after downing a spoonful of oatmeal and setting his bowl to the side. He reached for his queen and slid her into an offensive position.

Jessica waited until he removed his hand from the piece before letting out a mocking laugh. She reached for one of her knights, zig zagged it sideways and took away his most powerful weapon.

“Wait ... no!”

“Haha, too late!”

“Whatever! I got yours first.”

Jessica smirked. She had sacrificed her queen earlier in a gambit that had taken three of his pieces. Francis was still completely oblivious to how hopeless his situation was.

It was an odd relationship they’d formed. A nun and a priest, now Mistress and slave. The longer they were together, the more Jessica liked it. From what she could tell, he loved it as well. Was it just her Succubus cum making him ever more addicted and submissive to her? It was definitely a factor, but she was confident that wasn’t the totality of their relationship.

Francis seemed at ease for the first time since she’d met him. Ironically, in sexual slavery he was finally free to be who he really was. He was no longer spending every hour of his day worrying about his parishioners, his church, the diocese and what other people thought of him. Jessica had taken control of his life and put him through the most aggressive stress relief program imaginable.

No longer did he need to sneak away to some seedy club or far flung location to find some companionship. No more did he have to hide who he was at all hours of the day. The shame that had been ingrained in him by the church was beginning to fade away. Jessica was fucking it out of him on the daily.

Francis sighed and crossed his arms over his chest. He thought for a few moments before taking hold of his remaining rook and moving it forward slightly to take a defensive position in front of his king. He released the piece and then motioned that it was her turn.

“And that’s not all!” Jessica announced cheerfully as she seized her furthest pawn and advanced it to Francis’ end of the board. “I’ll be taking my queen back now, thank you.”

“What?!?”

“Promotion.”

“Promotion?”

“If you advance a pawn all the way to the end of the board, it is substituted for the fallen piece of your choice.”

“Dammit! I forgot all about that! If I had known, I wouldn’t have sacrificed so many pawns!”

Francis groaned and handed the piece back to her grudgingly. Jessica’s grin grew toothy as she placed it back on the board.

“The white queen dies. The black queen lives again” she said triumphantly.

Francis returned her smile, but after a few moments it began to fade and he looked downcast. Jessica slipped into solemnity once she realized the impact of her words.

“You’re going to talk to her, right?”

“Yes. I will try ... for all the good it will do.”

“Thank you, Mistress. I know you two don’t get along, but...”

“I have no desire to see her go mad” she cut him off with a scowl. “The only thing keeping her from health and happiness at this moment is her own stubbornness.”

“As you say. I could go with you, if you like?”

“No. I don’t think that would help. She already knows you’re mine. It would just look like we were ganging up on her. The new world has come for the Reverend Mother and she needs to choose between it and the old. I will meet her alone.”

Francis sighed and nodded.

Jessica rose from her chair, her hands gesturing down at the chess board. “I take it we don’t need to continue this?”

“No. I concede” Francis replied with a thin smile.

“Good” Jessica said as she reached for her bag and rummaged through it. “You want to help? Give me another dose before I go.”

She tossed the condom at his chest and Francis caught it as it tumbled down.

“I know I drained you pretty good, but you’ve had two hours to recover and I need something to feed the old biddy.”

“Of course, my Queen” he replied with only a hint of irony.

The heavy aromas of incense and wood polish filled Jessica’s nostrils as she strolled into the nave of St. Michael’s. The heavy wooden doors sealed behind her, sounding off as they clanked shut. The cavernous room would’ve been pitch black but for scattered candles and the bright sun outside illuminating the many stained glass windows.

The church was almost entirely empty, but Jessica could see Vick, Abigail and Evelyn sitting in the pews just beside the giant glass rendering of St. Michael. Like her, they were wearing their standard Catholic nun attire. The cooler temperatures of early fall made the thick wool garments more bearable, but Jessica decided this would be the last time any of them felt compelled to wear them. No matter how things went with Mother Superior today, changes were coming.

Her footsteps echoed on the floor as she approached her new lieutenants. The women gabbed away as they waited for her to begin their little meeting.

“Don’t you think it’s odd that they call him Saint Michael?” Victoria inquired. “I mean, he’s not actually a saint...”

“Yeah, that’s a weird one” Evelyn agreed. “But how much of this stuff ever made sense?”

“As an archangel and commander of the armies of God, his station is at least as high as the saints” Abigail remarked. “However, calling him “Commander” or “Archangel” during services would highlight the fantastical elements of his persona. I imagine the church switched to “Saint” as a matter of practicality.”

“In other words, they paper over parts of the mythology which are inconvenient” Jessica added as she came to a stop by her Sisters. “Like they do so many things.”

“Sounds bout right!” Evelyn admitted.

“Good day Sisters!” Jessica said with a smile. “How’s it going?”

“Things are awwweesoommmeee” Vicky lilted, clearly happy about some new development.

“Good” Abigail began “But I’m worried about Mother Superior. I peeked in on her yesterday and she wouldn’t talk to me. She does not look well.”

“I’m heading to see her right after this” Jessica replied, folding her arms below her breasts.

“What’s the plan?” Evelyn asked.

“I will try to reason with her. Give her every opportunity to be part of our new arrangement.”

“And if that don’t work?” Evelyn followed up, concern in her eyes.

“Then I’ll be making a call to social services soon. If she’s not willing to listen, she doesn’t belong here anymore. I’m not going to force feed her anything. Not food or water and certainly not this.” Jessica patted her pocket where Francis’ seed resided in a small glass vial.

Abigail nodded. “The wisest course of action.”

Evelyn’s eyebrows slanted up. She looked down sadly as she considered the possibility. Vicky seemed not to care one way or the other.

“What about our operations?” Jessica questioned. “Report.”

“We have several new thirsty male recruits that Evelyn and I will be initiating tonight” Abigail said with a grin. “Feel free to join us, of course.”

“That sounds like fun ... I’d love to, but it will depend on how things go with Helen. It’s good that we’ll have some new bottoms to milk. Our ranks grow! What about that horse farm down the road, Evelyn? Did you look into it?”

“I’m putting the moves on the owner right now” she replied smoothly, placing one hand on her hip. “He seems very agreeable. The farm will be ours in no time.”

“Excellent” Jessica said with a nod. “And what about you Vick? Not getting in on this?”

Vicky’s face lit up happily. “I have a date!”

“Oh really? That young man you’ve been after?” Jessica asked, her eyebrows raising.

“Yup! A beautiful boy named Christopher with the deepest blue eyes. He’s getting thirstier every day since I spiked his drink. Not sure I even needed to. He’s already crazy about me! I’m making him mine tonight.”

“Good for you!” Jessica exclaimed.

“Thanks! If it all works out I’m going to tell him to quit the seminary. Then I should have my first live-in slave!”

“Look at you robbin the cradle!” Evelyn chuckled.

“He’s 19 ... even if he doesn’t look it” Victoria said with mischief in her eyes. “And he very much needs a strong woman to guide him.”

“Okay” Jessica said with a nod “I won’t keep you. Have fun ladies!”

“Ya know I will!” Evelyn said before heading for the front door.

“Good times indeed!” Abigail said excitedly before following her out.

“Aren’t you coming?” Victoria inquired, stopping beside Jessica. “We could get some lunch if you’re in the mood?”

“I need some time to think before I see Helen. She’s going to be a pain, even in her current state. You go ahead, Vick.”

“Hey, you can call me Vicky from now on!” the redhead chirped.

“Oh? I thought you didn’t like that name?”

“I used to think it was kind of sleazy, ya know? But now ... I’m very okay with it” she said with a wink. “See you later!”

As she listened to Vicky’s steps echo across the floor followed by the great doors opening and creaking shut, Jessica gazed up at the giant stained glass depiction of Michael. A crown of light ringed his head and his white wings jutted outward gracefully. Over his armor and toga wrapped form he carried a large broadsword and a metal shield. On the shield was engraved the Latin words “Quis ut Deus” meaning “Who is like God?” A rhetorical question.

Jessica’s eyed narrowed as she studied the glowing window panes. It wasn’t just Michael that was “like God.” It was most men. Petty. Vengeful. Conceited. Overbearing. Foolish. Convinced of their own wisdom and righteousness in spite of all evidence.

‘By the time I’m done, none of you will be “like God” ever again.’

The door to Helen’s quarters creaked open and Jessica stepped through. Dirty clothes. Body odor. Untouched food spoiling on a table near her bedside. Jessica almost gagged as she made her way to the center of the room. She covered her mouth and nose, standing still as she let herself acclimate to the squalid conditions.

“Oh ... it’s you. My favorite has come to check on me.”

Helen’s voice dripped with sarcasm as she awoke from her nap to find the young woman in her room. She was lying on her bed with a light blanket over her, her hair visible to Jessica for the first time. It must have been jet black many years ago, but now it was equal parts gray and white. Her face had noticeably more wrinkles than the last time Jessica had seen her. Her dark eyes looked tired.

Jessica decided she would ignore her jabs for now.

“How are you feeling, Reverend Mother?”

“Like a woman being tested” she answered with all the stoicism she could muster.

“Tested?” Jessica probed. “And who was it that decided you should barely eat or drink?”

“I did, when I realized some members of my order are no longer trustworthy.”

“Not trustworthy? What exactly do you-”

“Enough!” Helen cut her off. She sat up slowly, her steely stare directed at her old subordinate. “I’m old. I’m not stupid! I know some evil stalks these halls and I have a good idea who brought it here! I knew you were trouble the day I laid eyes on you! You never should have been a member of this convent!”

“On that much, we agree” Jessica replied smugly. A silence fell over the room for a few moments.

‘Probably shouldn’t have said that.’ Jessica chided herself, but she couldn’t help it. She’d been taking this woman’s crap for over a decade and she was through with it.

“Helen, whatever you may think of me, I am here today out of concern for your well being.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes. I know that you’ve undergone ... certain changes, recently.”

“Oh, ‘certain changes’ is it? Like what?”

“Like the thirst” Jessica answered, her reddish-brown eyes locking on Helen’s dark pools.

“Yes, the thirst. And why is it that I’m thirsty no matter how much I drink, Sister Jessica? How would you know anything about it? Unless you had something to do with it, that is.”

Jessica had rightfully anticipated that this wouldn’t be easy. The old bat was surprisingly sharp for someone who was slowly starving herself and combating her new urges. It was time to take a different tact.

“I know because the same thing happened to me.”

That gave Helen pause and Jessica could tell she believed her. The Reverend Mother thought for a moment before responding. “And what else do you know, Jessica?”

“I know that God has granted us these gifts” the dark skinned woman spoke as she crossed to the table by Helen’s bed. “I know that we are meant to use our gifts to combat corruption in the church.” She spoke with authority as she picked up a metal spoon from the dining set. “And I know that this...” she extracted the vial from her pocket and poured the milky white substance into the spoon “ ... will make you feel much better.”

There it was. That was as good as Jessica could possibly bait the hook. As she turned to the withering old woman in her bed, a groaning pang of thirst gnawed at Helen’s stomach. She gazed at the spoon with crazed eyes, temptation clearly written on her face.

“It’s just one spoon. Think of it as medicine.”

Jessica ducked down and presented it to her. She began moving the spoon slowly toward her mouth. After only a moment of hesitation, Helen’s arm shot up and slapped it away violently. The metal implement clanged across the floor and Francis’ essence splattered all over. Jessica turned and looked upon the mess, her anger bubbling up along with her own thirst. The waste was shameful.

The Reverend Mother pulled the blanket off her body and the outline of a sizable cock was visible through her nightgown. “This!” she said, grabbing her crotch with one hand “Is not the work of the lord! Be gone WITCH! I will take no part in your perversions!”

Jessica turned her gaze back to Mother Superior, her eyes a pair of cold steel daggers piercing through the old bitch.

“Have it your way.”

Jessica raised back to her full height, turned and strolled past the splatter of spunk. She stopped near the doorway and pulled the veil off her head, freeing her brunette locks and giving the Reverend Mother a look at the youth and vitality she had just denied herself.