The Barista must be under the weather.
She thinks uneasily.
Heading to the church, she sees the doors are already open. Again, the only seat available to her is in the front row. Walking up the aisle, she sees The Barista sitting in the pews staring straight ahead and finds, just like Belt Buckle, she cannot make mental contact.
Her mind races.
The Priest is systematically taking my thralls. Does he know about the others? Would he consider that his hold over The Bald Man, Yellow Tie, and even The Seminarian could be broken by me? Let's hope not. Everything rests on that now.
The Priest rattles off his sermon but The Witch has trouble focusing on what he's saying, instead going over her plan and now attempting to account for any variables she might have missed. He finishes speaking and brings out the bread, wine, and the golden, gem-encrusted communion chalice. Looking up from them, he gives a signal to someone in the congregation. Suddenly, she feels a hand grabbing her arm and guiding her up out of her seat into the center aisle. Another hand grips her other arm, holding her in place. Startled, she looks to either side to see who would do such a thing and her heart stops for a moment. The Bald Man on her left, Yellow Tie on her right.
Are they on my side or his? I hope to god when I give the signal they feel it.
The wine pours into the chalice smoothly. The Priest's movements are precise, deliberate. The hands holding her arms press her forward and she walks with them up to the dais.
The Priest looks her in the eyes coldly and offers up the cup of wine with both hands. "Please, partake. We insist."
Now.
The Witch closes her eyes and sends out her mental signal along with the idea of her plan, hoping deeply the three men necessary are still under her influence and willing to carry it out.
She lets out a deep sigh of relief when she feels the tight grips around her biceps release. The Bald Man and Yellow Tie step around the dais and grab The Priest, at the same time, The Seminarian comes up from behind him and puts a sash in his mouth, tying it around the back of his head to prevent him from speaking. The Priest's eyes open wide in shock before furrowing in rage, his shouts muffled by the sash.
The churchgoers start to stir in the pews, blinking and looking around, some looking up at the chancel with concern. The Witch turns around to address them, reciting the control spell. She can feel all of the different souls in the room, their confusion, surprise, The Priest's fury. The incantation sticks in her throat, struggling to take on so many at once. She closes her eyes and concentrates. Then, she hears the first one. A zipper unzips on the right hand side halfway back. She opens her eyes and sees one man looking straight into her eyes and stroking his hard cock. Then a couple more zippers. She repeats the spell with more focus. Soon the men begin to stand, forming a line in the center aisle, each one pumping a hand up and down their rigid shaft.
The women remain seated but have all slipped hands down the front of their pants.
The Witch turns back to The Priest, the anger has faded from his face. He looks almost relieved. Like he has been waiting for a moment he wouldn't have to worry anymore, wouldn't have to care. She can feel in his mind he has given in, he wants to experience the raw pleasure that he has denied himself for so long.
She directs The Bald Man and Yellow Tie to undress The Priest and lay him down on the floor in the middle of the stage. As they do so, she slips off her dress and her shoes, getting fully naked. Her nipples stand erect and her pussy drips with the anticipation of what she's about to do. Turning again to face her congregation, she lowers herself down to her knees and gently guides The Priest's throbbing cock into her warm folds. Electricity shoots up her spine as she accommodates his girth, slowly lowering down his full length. A moan escapes her lips as she ever so slightly rocks her hips and feels him reach that much deeper. Placing her hands on his thighs for leverage, she lifts herself up to his tip before taking it all the way again. Moving her hands to his chest behind her, she throws her head back and exhales deeply as she rocks her hips more, grinding on his swollen member. Sitting up now to see her flock watching her and masturbating, she bounces steadily up and down and gestures for her apostles to come to her. The Bald Man, Yellow Tie, and The Seminarian all step forward with eager cocks ready. She takes one in her mouth and strokes the other two, still riding The Priest beneath her. The smell of sex fills the church. She can feel the arousal of everyone in the room building.
*CRACK*
Lightning strikes outside the church. The Witch feels electricity build inside of her with each bounce up and down The Priest's hard scepter. Yellow Tie's cock leaks precum inside her mouth and the salty portent invigorates her. She grips his cock with both hands and strokes rapidly, causing him to fire several bursts of warm sticky cum onto her face. She moans loudly, her bucking up and down causing her gooey reward to drip down her face and onto her bare breasts. At a gesture from her, Yellow Tie dumps out the wine from the golden communion chalice and hands it to her. Holding it in both hands and grinding back and forth, she looks up at The Bald Man and The Seminarian, imploring them with her eyes. After a few moments of stroking, The Bald Man's eyebrows raise in ecstasy as he shoots a thick load right into the cup. The Witch bites her lip as she watches it slowly drip down the sides and pool in the bottom. Next, The Seminarian lets out a moan as he steps forward and aims his cock into the vessel. Five bursts of warm cum join the first load.
A choir of moans arise from the pews as the still-seated women finger themselves and each other. The men of the flock have stepped on stage and are stroking themselves while watching The Witch rapturously.
She calls out to them. "This is my body, which is for you. Please, fill my cup."
Several men step forward at once, each breathing heavily and stroking furiously. The first man begins to cum and The Witch guides the goblet to his tip, catching as much as she can. Shortly after, the other two men cry out and orgasm at the same time. Only able to catch one in the cup, she wraps her lips around the other, taking his full load into her mouth before spitting it into the chalice to join the rest.
One by one, each man from the congregation steps forward and provides his hot sticky cum. The Witch watches as the goblet fills. Each milky deposit slowly mixing with the rest. Each new cock providing a unique but equally enrapturing donation. With each new load of sperm The Witch feels her own arousal grow, jolting through her. Lightning continues to strike outside, getting closer and closer to the church. The musky smell of sex has mixed with the heady smell of all the semen. Misaimed cables hang draped across her fingers and body. She gently grinds on The Priest's erection to avoid jostling the cupful too much, they both are very near climax. Looking around at her flock, it appears there is no one left who has yet to give their sticky tithe. They all stand watching her with admiration and reverence.
There's only one thing left to do. The Witch raises the chalice to her lips, the smell inside the cup is almost but not quite overpowering. Slowly inclining her head, she sees her viscous benefaction start to slide towards her lips. The warm cum fills her mouth gradually, its salty taste and tacky texture pushing her arousal over the edge. As she gulps down the gooey contents of the goblet, she bucks and writhes on The Priest's cock, simultaneously orgasming and feeling his hot load fill up her pussy.
*CRACK* *CRACK* *CRACK*
Several lightning strikes hit mere feet away from the church. The culmination of all sensations bombarding The Witch is unlike anything she's ever felt before. Pleasure zips through every part of her. She is aware of every molecule, every atom that composes her body, and each one cries out in ecstasy. Her muscles contract and flex, her body moves uncontrollably, guttural screams of euphoria erupt from her throat. At the same time, she feels the mind and soul of everyone else in the room, all spent and satisfied. All fulfilled. All relieved. All tired.
******
"When you said I was the only one who could change things, is this what you pictured?" The Witch asks The Old Woman.
The Old Woman rocks back and forth in her chair. They are sitting on her porch as the sun sets on a Sunday a few months after that climactic day.
"Well, let's just say I actually look forward to church now. Great 'sermon' today by the way." She responds with a wry smile.
