Disclaimer: This story is intended for adults only (18+). It contains sexual themes and mind control, which are not intended for everyone. If you don’t like seeing people altered in sexual ways, please feel free to view other postings on this blog. Also, please review the information in the About section of this blog.
Author’s Note: For the first time I feel that I must warn the reader about possibly offensive themes that’s never popped up in my stories before. This is set in an American Orthodox Church being investigated for fraud. Add MC to that, and you might get both the Patriarch of Constantinople AND the Catholic Pope metaphorically bashing down your door! This also contains themes I’ve avoided. You’ll see! Remarkably, this is also one of my dream inspired stories … Enjoy!
Beyond the Madness of Passions: The Church
The Haunted Detective:
… I looked over the balcony into the deep open space. There was something utterly haunting yet mesmerizing about it. I then thought I saw a sudden flash, but assumed it was just a trick of the light or some helicopter reflecting sunlight flying above. I soon realized how strange I felt. The haunted feeling was replaced by mesmerizing arousal. The air seemed to thin to breath, and I felt horribly weak. While my eyes uncontrollably fell closed, I felt like I was falling into oblivion …
I suddenly awoke with a cold sweat in my bed. I only could remember fragments of the otherwise vivid dream, but the associated emotions of mesmerization and arousal fully remained. I shrugged it off, and I looked over to my digital clock: 6:30am. I didn’t have to be at the police station for a couple of hours, because I currently had no open cases. Still, as a grizzled detective, I thought I should make an example of a sterling work ethic, and punch in early.
An hour later, I was sipping coffee in my office, while glazing over some old unsolved case files. Suddenly, I heard a knock on my door, and my bald station commander walked inside with his own case file.
“Hey, chief. You have something for me?” I asked.
“I do, if you feel up to it, Detective Sundry,” he said with concern in his tone.
I actually did not have a case in several months due to a nervous breakdown. It involved the case of the missing Carla Mercedes, and her subsequent reappearance ten years later. I was only put on the case after she reappeared. Even now, I don’t remember everything that caused the breakdown. All I do remember was that the case had numerous oddities, and was all cleared up, while I spent a month under intensive psychological care after the breakdown. I only returned to active duty a week ago. I then finally answered, “Well, what do ya have, sir?”
He sat on the chair opposite my desk, and handed over the file. “Supposedly simple case of fraud, but we just can’t get enough evidence.”
I glanced over the file. “The St. Zalotos Orthodox Church over in Providence, Rhode Island?” It was only half an hour from where I was in Brenton.
“Yes, detective, the Orthodox Metropolitan Council has been tasked to ascertain certain irregularities with both worship and monies. After their own internal investigation did not come up with anything conclusive, they asked the city’s police for some ‘quiet’ aid. No one wanted to touch it, due to the potential controversies this kind of investigation could cause. So, it eventually found its way to my desk, and if you’re up for it, I think this fits your talents best.”
“It does interest me, but how quiet are we talking here?” I asked. “Do you want me to go undercover?”
He nodded, “I think that is best, detective …” He then continued with genuine concern, “I want you to be absolutely sure, Robert, that you are ready for this. You’re one of the best detectives we’ve got, and I don’t want you on that bridge again.”
“Don’t worry about me, chief,” I said with confidence. “I’m ready.”
I did not go undercover much in my career, but I had a set method. So, I decided to draft four others. The first being young officer Diane Brown, who worked undercover with me once before. The other three, I hand picked from the recent graduating class at the local police academy: officers Doug Smith, Roberta Bradley and Lisa Crowley.
Per my usual procedure, we were working almost independently. Communications and strategizing would come through generic email accounts, which we created for this purpose. At least for the first few days, I was to go to the church directly, while the others will do research from without.
Walking up the church building, I had the sense that it was not a typical design for its religious discipline. However, I’d be lying if I said I knew all the quirks about church architectural design! While not necessarily spooky, the structure had an otherworldly feel to it. The imposing, Romanesque structure was almost out of place with the surrounding buildings, while it was likely older than all of them. It had four distinct spires: three in the back, and one front and center. The three in the back were square with pointed but shallow roofs, and had subtle variations, which were difficult to ascertain from the ground. The one in the front was considerably taller, rounded, and had a steeply sloping roof.
The ground just outside the front entrance was covered with polished slate slabs, and had multiple benches. There was also a ten foot high monument with many names and organizations written on it. The names appeared to be of those who donated large sums of money to the church.
Suddenly, a striking woman caught my eye. She glanced at me with her dark red hair and come hither eyes. Her red outfit, though conservative, businesslike, showed off all her luscious curves. I followed her inside. Instead of the woman, I was immediately greeted by large, bright red tapestries lining the side walls. The entryway and primary worshiping hall was divided by large stone columns before me.
“Hello, I’m Allie. Always like to see a new face,” she smiled pleasantly, while extending her hand.
I immediately turned around to the alluring woman. She came almost out of nowhere! “Oh, hi, I’m Robert. Just interested in this church.” I shook her silken hand.
“It is an interesting place,” she smirked almost slyly. “You must excuse me, Robert. I have a meeting with the event planning committee here in a few minutes, and they’re not ones for tardiness!”
“Err, OK …” I said breathlessly, before she disappeared into the dimly lit building.
I then noticed pictures on the stone wall before me. The one right in front of me was a group picture set just outside dated 1878. All those in the picture were identified on the brass plaque to the left, including the young, long bearded Bishop Jason Hawthorn, who was very prominent front and center.
“My grandfather,” a wizened, commanding voice said to me from behind.
I quickly spun around to see a darkly robed priest, who looked almost identical to the Bishop in the picture. The man before me did look a bit older, though. “I’m sorry?”
“Everyone asks if they see the picture before they see me!” he laughed heartily. “Well, I suppose you’re interested in my church, sir. I’m Jason Hawthorn the Third, the Bishop here.” He extended his hand.
We shook firmly. “I’m Robert.”
“Is there anything in particular you’re interested in learning? No one knows the history of this place better than me, Robert!” He was oddly likable, in spite of his almost comical pompousness.
“Well, sir, the architecture doesn’t seem normal for an Orthodox Church …” I stated innocently.
“Oh, yes, everyone asks about that, too!” he said with a big smile. “This was originally a Congregational Church back in 1658. The building was much smaller then, less imposing. It functioned under that discipline until 1780. The Minster then by the name of John Coopersmith was a Loyalist in a highly Pro-Revolution neighborhood and city. He held on adamantly, before he was forced out by his flock in 1778. They were unfortunately unable to find a permanent replacement, partly due to the turmoil of the Revolutionary War. So, they officially disbanded in 1780.
“The property was not used again until 1855. The influx of Irish Catholic immigrants called for a new Catholic Church, and enough of them came together to sanctify the property as such. The building you stand in now was essentially built around the original, which now functions as a function room in the back of this building.
“That incarnation of worship lasted until 1870, when they decided to build the larger and still in operation St. Joseph’s on the other side of the city. There was a small but growing Orthodox Community at the time, and we were preparing to settle on a permanent building.”
“Yes, of course. Strong leadership runs in the family. Anyway, after sanctifying the property in 1878, we’ve worked hard to preserve the structure, and the only alterations we’ve made are climate control and electricity!”
“That’s quite a remarkable history …”
He suddenly glanced at his watch, before I could ask him about present operations. He then stated apologetically, “We must continue this conversation another time, Robert.” He friendlily patted his hand on my shoulder. “I said I would peak my head into an event planing meeting earlier. They’re probably wondering where I am!”
“That’s quite all right, sir.”
“You are free to stay as long as you like, Robert!” He again patted my shoulder, and walked into the quiet building …
I hung around the general area for the rest of the day. I didn’t even bother trying to go through any possibly locked doors in the church, because I didn’t want to look suspicious. I was lucky enough to meet the Bishop, which was a good start …
Though not necessarily surpassing or indeed mandated, I received only one report that night. Roberta and Lisa opportunistically hopped into a volunteer painting project in the church that day. I was surprised I didn’t see them, but I wasn’t at the building the whole time, while it’s likely they used another door of the aged structure.
It took me several hours to find sleep that night at the motel. When I found it, the dreams were deep, vivid, and beyond my control …
Doug Smith just ended an uneasy call on his cellphone, while sitting on a bench outside the church. Unbeknownst to anyone, he had a serious drug problem. It started one month after he graduated from the police academy, when he was assigned to a special investigative unit focused on illegal drug trafficking. He had a masters degree in chemistry, and had a special talent for identifying chemicals, including narcotics.
He now knew that he had an addictive personality, and that his recent problem was a long time coming. Indeed, he had lost girlfriends over his love of sex. Alone in an evidence room one night, he removed a large brick of cocaine, and accidentally dropped it. The tight plastic wrapping split open, and a large amount of the drug flew into his lungs. The feeling was better than sex for him! He knew it was wrong, but found himself unable to live without the drug.
Soon after, he learned how to make it himself. His recent call was from his source of coca leaves. The shipment was delayed due to poor weather, and he finished his last batch a few days before. He didn’t know what he was going to do, having barely gained enough control over himself to only have weekly doses.
“Everything all right, sir?” a strong female voice stated behind him, while placing her hand on his shoulder.
He turned around to see it was one of the priests. He recognized her from files he examined. Danielle’s outfit seemed incredibly out of character. Though, he was learning about Orthodoxy as he went. She was wearing a deep red wraparound dress, which clung to her full body as much as it enlivened her vibrant red hair. He sighed, and answered, “I’m a hypocrite …” He didn’t know why he opened up just then, but she was the kind of women that broke down all barriers just by being in the same room.
She sat next to him, placing her hand on his shoulder, and asked, “Why?”
“I’m on cocaine. I make it myself, while I sell just enough of it to pay for making more.”
There was an oddly knowing look in her eyes, and she stated, “Yes, it’s illegal, and you obviously need help, but why does that make you a hypocrite.”
“I’m a cop,” he said blowing his cover. He needed someone to talk to, and he knew that lying would not help him here.
“Yeah, investigating you guys for fraud, but I haven’t seen anything much ‘worse’ than your dress tonight,” he said, barely not revealing the rest of the team.
She kissed him lovingly on the lips, and offered, “I can help you, if you’ll let me.”
“How? Coke is the thing I love the most, no matter how wrong I know that is!”
She then kissed him with even greater passion, tongue swirling in his mouth.
She pulled back, and he stated, “Oh, my God …” The kiss was unlike any other he ever had.
She took his hand, and guided him into the church. He soon found himself at the end of a large stone hallway. Danielle moved a large red tapestry aside, revealing more ancient stone. “Once we go through, there’s no turning back.”
“Where are we going?”
She smiled knowingly, and said, “Your destined salvation, Doug.” She then brushed her hand through the stone wall, which quickly faded. Before them was a torchlit spiral staircase flowing downward. Bewildered, he walked down with her.
They were soon walking down an ancient hall, before stopping at an archaic tapestry of men and women drinking various substances in a wild orgy. Daniele moved the tapestry to the side, revealing a near pitch black room. She explained, “This is where we worship the Great Gray L’sothot of Potions. I personally make the High Priest’s longevity potion. Jason Hawthorn is one of the oldest Witches now, because of me.”
“Great L’sothot?” Doug asked bewildered, while oddly caring less about the apparent secret of longevity.
“A Great Erotic Witch God, whose disciples worship through the use of potions, drugs. I am a Priestess of Potions!” she said excitedly, unsurprised by what he wondered about most.
Daniele was clearly very amused by his bewilderment, and led him on to the end of the hall. She opened the door to a well lit room (florescent lighting, ironically), which held a vast array of modern equipment geared toward the creating of various chemicals. It was not unlike his own secret lab in his basement’s secret room.
She picked up a goblet filled with a steaming grayish liquid, and stated, “I know everything about you, Doug. Your love of sex. Your addiction created by that accident in that evidence room. I know how broken you really are. Yet, you now have it within your power to choose a new path. A path well prepared for you.” She handed him the warm goblet.
“What is this?” he asked, while he grasped the goblet.
“Your salvation. It will transform you into a Witch far faster than simply wielding Erotic Cosmic Energies. You, if you so choose, shall be free of all vices save for one.”
“Passion. Pure, unadulterated, sexual passion,” she said sultrily. “There is nothing better!”
Doug breathed in the potion’s fumes deeply. It aroused him beyond anything he ever knew. The only thing keeping him from humping Danielle’s brains out was that fact that drinking the potion could bring him to something even greater. His addictive nature could not resist. He then gulped it down, savoring every sweet drop.
Danielle then grabbed Doug before he fell over from the implausibly powerful horniness, and lay him on the bed conveniently on the other side of the lab. “You’re transforming!” Danielle proclaimed madly. “Let me help you along.”
Before he knew it, all their clothes were nowhere to be seen, and Danielle was humping him wildly on top. The passion beyond passion he felt was almost not even sex anymore. It was something more. His mind was soon completely filled with lust and passion, not just toward the frenzied woman on top of him, but for any woman. Once he enacted the cliche of thinking of manly sports, but nothing could now stand between him and the cosmic passions.
Then at the moment of orgasm, time seemed to stop, while blackness surrounded him. There was a dark figure before him. While the image was next to impossible to make out, he somehow knew that it could represent everything he ever found erotic. “Welcome to my flock, Doug Smith,” an infinitely erotic, yet inhuman voice whispered.
The image of the Great L’sothot moved closer and closer through layers of darkness. He had no idea how he knew what it was, but that didn’t matter. It then smashed into him, causing his body to violently spasm in an epic orgasm only an Erotic Witch can know. Through the divine passion, he could sense his very DNA being rewritten. He was becoming like Danielle: an Erotic Witch of Passion …
Diane Brown was finishing up a cigarette across the street from the church, where she thought she saw Doug an hour ago, but he was long gone. It was her first cigarette in months, which meant that she just failed to quit for the third time. She didn’t really know why she was still brooding out there, but she just wasn’t tired enough to head back to her motel.
She suddenly heard the door to the bar behind her close. Virginia Connors was walking out. Her report’s picture did not do her justice! She was wearing a tasteful blue dress, which accentuated her curves. Diane was most pleased with the visual.
“I didn’t know you priests could wear something so normal!” Diane exclaimed, partly as a joke.
She smirked with an odd slyness, and replied, “You know we’re a bit progressive! … Failed to quit smoking again? Finally quit for good myself not too long ago, Diane.”
“How did you know?” she asked without surprise toward the observation.
“Had that look myself whenever I failed. That was until I realized that smoking kinda went against the fight against fire and brimstone thing!”
Diane was finding herself very much drawn to the eccentric priest. She wanted to fuck her brains out until she begged her to stop! And, since Diane was a woman accustomed to receiving whatever she wanted … “So, where you off to, Virginia?” Virginia gave her a look that somehow saw right though her. It was as if her mind had invaded Diane’s, while they both loved the sensuality of it.
“I’m heading back to my place,” she said with a powerful sultriness, which would make a eunuch hot and bothered.
She then grabbed Diane’s arm sternly, and in a bizarre blur, she soon found herself in the priest’s apartment. Virginia was making them drinks in the other room. It was a yellow themed apartment, with just about everything from the walls to the rug yellow or orange. It was odd, and didn’t seem quite fitting of the woman she was with that night.
“Here we are!” Virginia exclaimed, while walking into the room with two large goblets.
“Did you get those two silver monstrosities from the church?”
“Yeah, actually!” she replied as if everyone knew.
She took a goblet, and looked inside. It was not wine. A warm grayish liquid happily swirled within it. “What is this?”
“A little concoction a friend of mine likes to make. It’s quite enlightening, Diane. Drink it,” she stated with an odd sternness.
The sternness of the voice reminded her of much of the trainers at the police academy. Still, she wasn’t bothered, while she saw no reason not to accept the apparent hospitality. She then drank the sweet liquid down quickly, while savoring. If there was any alcohol, it was well hidden within the sweet nectar.
Suddenly, Diane knew something was wrong. Or perhaps, something was more right than she knew possible! Her body was becoming alive with passion. Drool escaped her mouth in the sudden onslaught. At the same time, Virginia happily walked into her bedroom.
Diane gained just enough composure to follow the erotic woman after several minutes, if only out of the need fuck her host’s brains out! Through the blinding horniness, Diane was in total shock to the room’s nature. It was dark with black and red flooring and walls. The ceiling had hanging leather straps for purposes beyond her imagination. A series of whips and chains lay organized on a table on the left side of the room. The otherwise normal bed on the other side had been altered to accommodate leather straps, hand cuffs, and ropes.
“Oh, you don’t like it, my Zealot?” Virginia hissed, while walking out of the connected bathroom. Whip and collar in her hands, the woman was now dressed like some extreme dominatrix: ass high latex boots with very high heals, red leather corset. Her hair now flew back wildly.
Diane stumbled over to the bed in her mind numbing horniness. “What … What’s happening …?”
“‘Mistress’!” she forcibly corrected. “I am your mistress, now, my Zealot. Now, lay down on that FUCKING bed on your stomach!”
“What … no …” she barely uttered, while uncontrollably touching herself. She naturally fell onto the bed onto her back.
Virginia shook her head angrily, and stated, “‘NO MISTRESS’ … You new Zealots never have discipline!” She then strutted over, and forcibly flipped the mind numbed woman onto her back. Sitting on top of Diane, Virginia grabbed a rope from the head of the bead, before grabbing the defenseless woman’s wrists, and tightly tying them behind the whimpering Diane’s back. Virginia them turned herself around, and tightly tied the woman’s bare ankles to the cold metal bed post. She again turned around, and sternly whispered in Diane’s ear. “You were always the alpha, wanting to dominate others in all things, including in fucking. I shall give that to you with divinity on your side. But, you must first learn you place as subservient to the Great Witch God Shurath’cas of Domination and I, a Priestess of Domination!”
After applying the black leather collar almost so tight it choked on Diane’s, Virginia violently tore off all of Diane’s clothes. Diane lay bound for a few moments in utter arousal, after Virginia unmounted her.
Suddenly, giant vibrators were being forced into Diane’s ass and crotch. While they were so large it was painful, her arousal somehow made it pleasurable. Thrust after endless thrust they went. Her mind melted away, and soon a massive orgasm flew through her.
In the infinite darkness that followed, a domineering figure stood before her. She could not fully make out the image, but she knew what it was. Before her stood the image of her new God the Great Shurath’cas. While it moved closer, it whispered in a forcible, inhumanly erotic tone, “Welcome, Zealot. Have faith in Virginia, for she shall do well in teaching you your place amongst your new kind, Witch!”
The dark image then collided with her, causing her very soul explode in orgasm. Diane then exclaimed, “YES, MISTRESS!”
Roberta Bradley and Lisa Crowley were helping to paint one of the old rooms in the church, when one of the other volunteers accidentally nocked over a paint bucked above them. Blue latex paint splattered all over them.
They were ushered into a communal shower not far from the room. At first, they thought they would take terns for privacy, but quickly decided it would be faster to shower together. It wasn’t the first time either showered with other women; however they never showered together before.
The blonde Roberta was clearly the more athletic of the two, with thighs that could crack walnuts. In spite of her musclebound curves, however, Roberta was still incredibly attractive. The brunette Lisa, though not a lesbian, could not help but notice.
“Wow, you’ve got quite the body, Roberta!” Lisa complimented, especially envious of her happy D-cups. Lisa’s were a full B-cup.
“Thanks! You take good care of yourself, too, Lisa.”
Suddenly, the water felt thick, while looking quite gray. At the same time, a small amount of the sweetened liquid fell down their throats. The aberrant liquid dissipated quickly, and instead of being concerned, they found themselves incredibly horny.
“Can I …” Lisa began to ask breathlessly. “Can I wash your boobs.”
“Sure,” she answered, confusingly wanting her to do so even more.
Lisa quickly lathered up her hand, and began to grope the boobs now making her pussy twitch. Roberta leaned her back against the wall, and absorbed the attention. “Oh, God … I love your boobs!”
“Thanks … OHHH!” Roberta automatically began to rub her wet snatch.
“Gods, I feel like a horny teenage boy!” she cooed. Lisa was so damned horny. She would have been rubbing her snatch, too, but her hands had been occupied.
“Nothin’ wrong with that, baby!” She leaned in, and began to make out with Lisa. They then pressed their thighs against their burning pussies, and humped each other passionately.
“I love how your firm thigh feels on my ….OOOOAAAH … MY pussy, Roberta,” she cooed.
“I ERRROO love your body, Lisa!” she cooed back.
“I LOVE YOU, ROBERTA!” she screamed in orgasm, at the same time Lisa came, “I LOVE YOU, LISA!”
Hot water running down their healthy bodies, they tightly embraced. It was unexplainable to them, but they really were in love with each other. At the same time, they felt different in other ways, too. They sensed something greater than them. They could feel it move closer and closer to them, and when it moved through them, they screamed in a deafening orgasm. The orgasm was of pure love.
“Lovers,” the priest Craig Jackson called outside the shower, “you need to come with me.”
In a haze of love, Lisa and Roberta soon found themselves in the apparent office of the priest.
“As you probably already figured out, you two are now Lovers of the Great Similinis. It was not intentional for you two to become lovers yourselves, but I see that you have. It is glorious!”
They were lightly kissing, while lovingly caressing their still naked bodies. The whole of their sexuality was only toward each other. They only barely acknowledged the Priest of Love.
“How deep do want your love for each other to go?” he asked lovingly.
“Deeper than anything,” Roberta cooed.
“As deep as our very souls!” Lisa cried, before passionately locking lips.
“As Witches, you clearly sense the power you can now wield. What you two seek is Soul Fusion.”
Roberta then straddled her lover on the chair, while they began to make love. Their hearts raced at the joy of each other’s touch.
He knew they were not completely ignoring him, so he continued happily, “The soul is partly independent of other Energies. It is essentially the core of who we are, while the body is but its vessel. It bridges the material and etherial, while often described as split in two parts to be less confusing. The reality is that it is in both places at once. That makes the soul quite dynamic, especially in the context of love.”
The lovers cooed happily, while they passionately rubbed their moist pussies and made out.
“Soul Fusion is eternal. Your souls will literally be made one, while you can never be apart for two long. The depth of your intimacy can go no deeper. Is that what you two want?”
“OH FUCK YES! MAKE US ONE FOREVER!” they screamed in orgasm in not so perfect unison.
The priest then guided the women, who could not keep their hands off of each other, to the bedroom behind the office. He then went to the dresser in the room, and removed a pair of black silk pantyhose. “The medium must be organic, natural. Now, you must separate each other. I know it is difficult, but it may be the last time you will ever be truly apart.”
They nodded, and after several sweet kisses on the lips, they lay separated. Though, they could not keep their loving eyes off each other.”
“Good,” he said softly, and placed the hose between them
“Damn, you’d look sexy in those, Roberta!” Lisa cooed. “I’ll encase you in it later!”
He smirked, again knowing how they sensed what the procedure entailed. “Truly Great Baccheiaosis, grant me the power of Soul Fusion, so that I may Fuse the souls of these two Lovers of the Great Similinis!” He slowly lowered his hand onto the unsuspecting hose, and channeled a blast of specialized Devine Energy into them.
“Roberta, touch the hose,” he softly ordered. She did so, and gasped, before quickly removing her hand. A piece of her soul was ripped away into the hose, and she felt sick in ways she could not understand. She quickly passed out.
“Lisa, put on the hose,” he softly ordered. She did so, while concerned about Roberta. She then felt the soul of her lover fly into her. She accepted it into her own without question. She then deeply felt the enlivened hose, allowing it to merge with every inch of her.
“Come to me, Roberta!” Lisa cried.
Roberta did so, and groped her lover without abandon. Soon, their skin was totally replaced by the silk. They then fell into a dark dreamworld, where their bodies melted into each other, symbolically representing their souls Fusing. The sensuality melted their minds. When they screamed as a single being, the hose evaporated, and they were one …
The Forgotten Room:
I decided to go back to the church the next mourning. The disordered dreams were vivid, but I threw them into the back of my mind. There seemed to be no one around by the time I walked inside the old church. Though, there was likely someone watching the security feeds. I soon went through an open door near the back of the main worship hall, planning on my silly “Where’s the bathroom?” excuse if caught.
Behind the door was a long, upward, spiral stone staircase. I cautiously walked through an ajar door at the first landing a ways up. It lead into a disused room, brightly lit by large, clouded windows. To my shock, my compatriots were sitting on the musty table and chairs. They all seemed rather distracted, with Roberta and Lisa specifically with each other.
“What are you all doing here?” I asked in quiet shock.
Diane answered with a sternness that threw me off guard, “Opportunism. We are … We are volunteering.”
“Volunteering?” I asked confused.
“Sure,” Doug answered slyly, while unabashedly looking at the others with lust in his eyes.
“What did you guys volunteer for?”
“We are helping to restore some old rooms,” Lisa answered breathlessly, while starring into her Roberta’s eyes. “You got the email from us, right?” Roberta continued, with her hand lightly stroking Lisa’s cheek.
“Uhh … You didn’t say you would all be helping out …”
Doug chuckled, and stated, “Opportunism is kinda addicting!”
I suddenly noticed an odd, blueish glow emanating from the other door in the musty room. “What’s behind there?” I pointed to the door.
“A balcony,” Diane answered with a stern matter-of-fact-ness.
I walked over, and opened the creaking old wood door. Behind was indeed a balcony. The large, enclosed area had a depth plunging into darkness, while a bright blueish light surrounded above that darkness. There were other balconies, while there were staircases connecting openings throughout, all but evoking the art of M. C. Escher. It somehow didn’t make any sense. Nothing about the size or the shape of this tower seemed to match anything on the outside. I had the disorienting sense that I had seen all this before in some near forgotten dream. Indeed, I almost thought I was dreaming, but I knew I wasn’t. I was hauntingly mesmerized by the site before me.
I walked back into the room, heart racing from what I just saw. “I uhh … Why don’t we meet up later?” I breathed.
“You can come back here at nine tonight,” Diane ordered.
An Undercover Detective Walks into a Bar:
I found myself walking into the nearby bar. Though I always considered local bars to be a source of information, I rarely made them my primary source, if only because I was not that much of a drinker. That balcony was unsettling, though …
There were less people there than I expected that afternoon, but a “knowledgable” bartender was really all I was hoping to find. I casually sat on one of the stools, and ordered a glass of Irish Whiskey. The present bartender was not talkative, so I casually made note of the others in the room. An older, somewhat heavyset man sat on the far end of the bar with his own glass of whiskey; a young couple was munching on some burgers and drinking dark beer in one of the booths. One person in particular caught my eye. It was the more than alluring Allie sitting in one of the booths with a glass of wine. It seemed as if she was waiting for someone.
I knew this was a good chance to finally have a conversation with her, so I stood up and picked up my drink. After making only a couple of steps, the older man from the far end of the bar intercepted me.
“Oh, excuse me, I was just heading to one of the booths,” I stated calmly.
The man looked very nervous, and said quietly, “Yes … that is a good idea.”
Though I still wanted to speak with Allie, this man was clearly ready to spill some kind of beans. So, we made our way to one of the empty booths in the back.
After sitting in the booth, I sipped my drink. “You have something to tell me?”
“Yes, I do,” he said almost whispering. “I’m Dr. Theodore Stokes. I’m a professor at the State University. I’ve noticed your curiosity about that Orthodox Church, but I can tell you’re not interested in joining. You’re not the first cop that place has drawn.”
“A cop?” I said, holding my cover.
He sighed. “Cop, detective, soldier, it doesn’t matter … If you want to really know what’s going on, I have some important information for you.”
He looked around, paranoid, before replying, “This isn’t a good place to talk. Meet me later at eight.” He took out his card, wrote his address on the back, and left.
I pocketed that card, and sat sipping my drink. This was obviously the break we were looking to find. Or at least, it could have been. As far as I knew, this Stokes was some paranoid crackpot, who watched too much TV, or at best, a real professor fired for being a crackpot.
Suddenly, I noticed Allie standing next to the booth with a pleasant smile. She was holding a large glass of red wine, which matched her attractive, businesslike attire. “Is this seat still taken?”
“Oh, no, please!” I motioned politely.
She sat before me, and happily sipped her wine. “It’s good to finally talk to you outside that musty old church!” Her light perfume was even more soothing than her voice.
“Yes.” She was such a breathtaking woman. With her now sitting before me, I realized that she really was “everyone’s type.” I stated almost shakily, “It looked like you were waiting for someone.”
“Not exactly,” she said almost teasingly. She took a large swig of her wine. “You were looking for someone. Stokes perhaps?”
I took a swig of my whisky, barely hiding my shakiness.
She laughed, and stated, “Don’t worry about him! He really has that PhD. Of course, ‘PhD’ often stands for ‘eccentricity’ these days.”
“… What do you know about him?” I stammered.
She shrugged. “Not as much as you might think. He likes unofficial histories, myths, legends. Used to hang around the church some years ago, before he found more interesting things, I guess! They do have quite a bit of history, so it’s no wonder he was interested.”
“What’s your connection with the church?”
“You do like gettin’ into the heart of things, don’t yah, Robert?” she smiled sexily. “I’m just a curious onlooker, so to speak, while almost what some would call a consultant.”
“A Consultant?” I asked, while her sexy perfume started to make me dizzy.
She raised her thin eyebrow with a sultry smile, and asked, “Not holding your liquor well, Robert.”
“I … umm …”
“It’s all right, Robert. Let me help you out.”
She walked over, and gently took my arm. Me leaning on the wonderfully sexy woman, we walked toward the exit.
“Not much of a drinker, Jack!” she called out to the bartender, who took cash from Allie’s soft hand.
My mind in a great blur, I realized I was in a car with Allie driving. “Where … where are we going,” I barely asked.
“My place, Robert. Didn’t tell me where you were staying, and I think you need to lie down for a while … among other things.”
Not long after, I found myself falling into a gushy bed with Allie looking down at me almost hungrily. “I fucking LOVE your perfume!” I exclaimed breathlessly.
She licked her lips, and said with definite hunger, “I bet you love other things, too!”
My haze oddly lifted more than enough for me to clearly observe her erotically removing her blouse and skirt. Without thinking, I sat up, and grabbed hold of the naked, full bodied woman. The kiss we shared was unlike anything I ever experienced. I nearly came from how good it felt!
A few moments later, she lightly pushed me back onto the bed, and mounted my solid cock. She humped me wildly. Her red hair flowed like fire. I could barely think. The passion was building to levels I never even dreamed! I then suddenly exploded in an orgasm that dangerously eschewed my vision. Almost immediately after, Allie screamed in an even louder orgasm. I could have sworn she glowed slightly, but it must have been a trick of the light. I few moments later, I passed out …
The next thing I knew, I was comfortably lying alone under silken sheets naked. I glanced at the clock: seven in the afternoon. I no longer felt that dizzy horniness, but I was definitely a bit tired from the escapades hours before. I was a bit thirsty and hungry, too.
A few minutes later, the apparently perfume-less Allie walked in with a tall glass of water. She was only wearing a colorful kimono robe. In her hand was a tall glass of water. “You read my mind!” I exclaimed jokingly. She smiled, and handed over the glass. I chugged it down.
She then said sympathetically, “You are so haunted, Robert.”
“What?” I asked, breathing deep.
“It doesn’t take someone as observant as me to tell. I can tell you’ve lost a part of your life … Look, Robert, I know you’re not who you said you were, but I don’t care. All I know is that I can help you bring back what you’ve lost. It’s the least I can do after all the fun you gave me!”
I was speechless. How could she do what a sanitarium couldn’t?
“Please, let me help you. I need you to be whole,” she offered almost cryptically.
She then took my head in her hands, and sweetly kissed me on the lips, before looking deep into my eyes. My mind flew back to just before I had my breakdown, and just before the mostly lost memories. A Robert Jameson had just come to me about the once lost Carla Mercedes. He had suspected apparent oddities relating to the company he originally co-ran with Carla’s father, which was now being run by Carla.
What I was now beginning to remember was that there was possibly something wrong with Carla Mercedes. Everyone save perhaps for her sister was developing a strong Zealotry toward her, while no one apparently acted that way toward her before. There were also strange issues related to her disappearance, like how all hospital and police records relating to the disappearance were lost. There was also an unexplained astronomical event the night she disappeared.
After further investigation, Carla herself confronted me. She seduced me with her feet, and I soon found her foot deep inside my mouth, merging with me. I became a part of her; I learned everything instantly. She was abducted by aliens she never saw, and was remade by them to be a kind a researcher. That research was, of course, to be secret, while no harm was to be inflicted on anyone, unless deemed necessary.
Not long after it was all made clear to me, she tinkered with my mind. All my suspicions were erased, while I was to leave Carla and her family alone. That latter part was the seed of my breakdown. From being attached to her, I was uncontrollably drawn to her, at least temporarily. I had to be with her with every ounce of my being, but I was forced not to. The conflict ripped me apart mentally. I eventually jumped off that bridge into the Providence River. I hesitated just long enough for a Coast Guard ship to arrive at the bridge before I jumped. I was in the city sanitarium soon after (they found no evidence of the kind of physical connections I claimed to have with Carla), while the vast majority of the memories that destroyed me eventually became deeply buried …
Allie pulled back with a deeply sympathetic look on her face. “I had no idea …” she said.
“How … how did you do that?” I said with a tear rolling down my cheek. She had somehow brought the memories back in a way so that they wouldn’t destroy me, while I was unsure about what to do with them.
She kissed me sweetly, and answered, “I’ll let you keep your secrets about why you’re here, if you’ll let me keep mine …”
I just finished a surprisingly large dinner with Allie, and my mind was still partly on the amazing woman, while I walked up to the professor’s apartment. I never had sex so good in my life, while her psychiatric skills were unmatched. I now felt as whole and stable as I did before the breakdown. That was in spite of how bizarre the recovered memories were.
The professor politely invited me inside, and I sat opposite him before his desk in his office, which reeked with the scent of his many books.
“So, Dr. Stokes, you said you may have some important information for me,” I stated neutrally.
“Yes, um, more than you need, I think … I’m a professor of folklore, well an emeritus professor. That church you are so interested in is no church, but you know that. They are worshipers of the Cosmic Gods of Witchcraft, who function as four of the Greater Gods of Passion: Great L’sothot of Potions, Great Shurath’cas of Domination, Great Simelinis of Love, and the all important Great Zalatoth of Manipulation. The Bishop there, from what I’ve gathered, is their leader, and has somehow prolonged his life. He may be hundreds of years old, and Witches usually only live a few decades longer than the average Human!”
“What makes Zalatoth the most important?” I asked curiously.
“‘Great’ Zalatoth serves multiple purposes within the Cosmic Gods’ hierarchy. It is foremost the Binder of all Erotic Witchcraft. Thus, the associated Cult functions as the High Cult, when other Cults are present. It is also considered the second most powerful of the Cosmic Gods of Passion, immediately under the Truly Great One. Interestingly by some accounts, the Truly Great One has changed quite recently. Anyway, being so important has given Great Zalatoth the alternate title of the ‘Right Hand of the Truly Great One.’ Under that banner, it functions as a kind of enforcer of written and unwritten Cosmic Laws. What is truly fascinating is how it will allow anyone to wield Erotic Cosmic Energies, including its own. However, if any of the Cosmic Laws are broken, or not interpreted to Great Zalatoth’s liking, then there is no hope for the infractor, while the punishment is often poetic.”
There was something unsettling about the lecture. I could tell that he truly believed what he was telling me!
“You haven’t seen enough yet to truly understand the truth of it. Or at least, you’re not yet aware of evidence you’ve already seen,” he said oddly.
I shifted in the chair nervously, and stated, “Well, in this case, it doesn’t matter what I believe. If that is what they believe, then it holds importance.”
Stokes shook his head, and said sternly, “Yes, there is power in belief, but sometimes, belief is based on something wholly material. And, that material does not have to be of our world.”
I uncomfortably stood up, and extended my hand. “Thank you for the information, doctor. I need to get going, now.”
Instead of shaking my hand, Stokes warned, “Most Witches are born as Witches, but all Witch Bloodlines started as Human. A Witch can be created by another Witch, or by actively wielding Erotic Cosmic Energies … Magic is but misunderstood science. Tread very carefully, sir, if they have an Avatar, then there’s very little they don’t already know …”
I was back within the church not long after my meeting with Dr. Stokes. I waited patiently in the disused room for the others. I nearly passed out on one of the gushy chairs from how tired I still was from the amazing sex I had with Allie. My mind went back to my recent dreams of my compatriots. I rationally could not bring myself to believe that they were real, but my gut told me otherwise. If they were true, then all that mattered to them now were their new Gods and maybe themselves. I sighed, and walked out.
By accident, I didn’t walk through the door to the stairs. I looked over the balcony into the deep open space. Like before, there was something utterly haunting yet mesmerizing about it. I then thought I saw a sudden flash, but assumed it was just a trick of the light or some helicopter reflecting light flying above. I soon realized how strange I felt. The haunted feeling was replaced by mesmerizing arousal. The air seemed too thin to breath, and I felt horribly weak. While my eyes fell closed, I felt like I was falling into oblivion …
“Are you sure it is he?” a familiar patriarchal voice stated in the distance.
“Yes, I am sure, Jason,” a familiarly soothing feminine voice stated.
I slowly opened my eyes. The Bishop and Allie stood staring at me from behind the Bishop’s large oak desk. I sat up on the old leather couch, still feeling woozy. A fire comfortingly crackled on the opposite end of the room.
“You have been brought here to accept your part in the Great Zalatoth’s plan of unification,” the Bishop, who was really a High Priest of Manipulation of the Great Zalatoth, stated sternly.
“What?” I barely asked.
“Well, Robert Sundry, I should say manipulated!” he said happily.
“I don’t understand …” I shook my head.
Allie looked over to the High Priest, and placed her hand on his forearm. He almost literally melted before my eyes. She soon sat next to me. Her light perfume was still more soothing than her voice. It was by far not as strong as it was earlier, but it was enough to sooth my anxiousness. She lightly stroked my cheek, and asked, “You trust me, right, Robert?”
“Yes!” I said breathlessly. She brought back a part of my life I thought I lost. How could I not trust her?
Allie then said:
A new Being shall be begotten,
An unlikely union of a warrior Witch and Natural Born Succubus,
A Protector shall come forth to protect her and her begetters,
The new being shall have a great hunger for power,
That hunger shall be out of progressiveness,
Out of that progressiveness, she shall come to lead a Power of the World,
Once power is assured, she shall reveal herself
And the Great Cosmic Gods of Passion onto Humanity,
She shall ensure smooth transition to new destinies
“That is the prophesy that Zalatoth said though me,” she concluded.
“A Protector?” I asked confused. The confusion was all but false, because I somehow understood, even though I should not have.
She smiled knowingly. “Yes …” She licked her full lips, and continued, “You see, even though a few are born to Humans (Natural Borns), Succubi do not have children like Witches or Humans. I should know; I’m an Avatar Succubus! Succubi only can naturally transform other Human women into Succubi for ‘natural’ procreation. Except, apparently, for one impossible possibility.”
“You’re a Succubus?” I asked amazed, knowing the truth in her words.
She smiled very happily. “The prophesy was given nine months ago to this day. Through the proper channels, we know the child was recently born, and where she and her parents are …”
“A wooded village near the city of Yellowknife in Canada,” she answered. “They are just as confused as they are protective of the child. The mother, in particular, won’t let anyone near the baby girl, save for the father. Yet, a baby is still a baby, no matter what species. They will need all the help they can get. You, a Human, are a perfect third party. Zalatoth chose you, the now wizened detective, to protect the three of them. It must be of your own free will.”
For the first time in my life, I now knew what the weight of the world truly felt like. It was a heavy burden, but I could not say no. I suppose, I was always searching to be part of something far grander than myself, and I secretly didn’t find that with the police. “If you guys smell that good naturally, you should bottle that up and sell it!” I exclaimed.
Allie looked over to the concerned Bishop with a happy nod …
My chief back at the station was very much taken aback by both the report clearing the church of fraud and my request for paid leave (paid vacation). He granted it reluctantly, not just because of all the paid medical leave I recently had, but also because he hated “having my office empty again.” The others, well, as Witches of Passions, they stayed with the police, albeit with different goals. With my past literally behind me, I soon found myself driving to the small village near Yellowknife …