The Mon Ambrosio

If you wonder who any of the characters are, go back and reread Chapters 1 and 2. Thanks for feedback!

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A shroud of purple settled on the horizon. The moon shone down upon the monastary grounds as Matilda returned, covered in dirt and dust, to her chamber. Quick hands made her human husk clean, aided by cold water from a basin. Her legs ached from being spread so far, but that ache was far less than the expected pain from her intercourse with the Demon Lord. The burn she'd felt in the catacombs was absent, instead was a delicious throbbing ache. Maybe this was her curse, that she would never be satisfied in life.

Reclining on her palette, she yawned with exhaustion. Her heavy eyes drooped and just as she might have drifted into a deep slumber, Ambrosio entered her thoughts. Her meditations were colored differently than before. She could not avoid a bitter taste in her mouth while wondering, 'if the god of the underworld wants me as he does, why then could Ambrosio not also?

The new color of her regard for Ambrosio was both a relief for her and a bane. She recognized the absence of her deep love for him and knew a newborn desire to instead own him. Then satisfaction drew a smile on her face. His soul was hers, so long as she did the Dark Master's bidding. Gazing at the folds of her discarded cloak, she could make out the shape of the latest trinket Lucifer had bestowed upon her. Her heart jumped with flame. 'Soon my Ambrosio!' she said. 'Soon you will be chained to my whim and follow my every order!'

Sleep soon claimed her, but a new cold darkness filled her sleep. The depth of her evil deed with the Prince of Hell had swallowed up the last of her innocence, depriving her of the ability to dream.

The smell of sulfur woke her. Silver smoke was dissipating when she opened her eyes, half-lidded black orbs looked down on her with a look resembling that of an affectionate admirer.

"Asmodeus. Why do you disturb my rest?" Addressing the arch-demon, shehe didn't sit up, only turned on her side. The little demons chained to the arch-demon's leg clamored at her robe and slid away the folds to reveal a gilded mirror. They were jerked away almost instantly and whimpered at his feet.

"Profuse apologies, mistress." She could see now his gaze had changed and he looked upon her with more fear than he had in past times. "As you instructed, I followed the young monk, Ambrosio and discovered his destination."

"Relay to me what you have seen. Spare no detail," she bit her lip and listened.

"The monk answered a call for a visit to a sick woman, Elvira. She is the mother of that girl, Antonia, the object of Ambrosio's desire. He departed the monastery with his wits about him but did not return in the same manner." Matilda could detect his glee in relating the information.

"Indeed?" she answered haughtily, endeavoring to appear unphased.

"He has been in his chamber for a full hour, kneeling in prayer. He is praying for forgiveness."

"This does not inspire surprise, Asmodeus. He is piety incarnate. It is for his piety that I first felt stirrings of love," she felt a sigh rise in her bosom but did not release it.

"You may not love him so well if you see this," he withdrew from his cloak a framed portrait. The painted canvas was ripped in twain. It was a portrayal of the Madonna, but the features were Matilda's own. She had commissioned the piece herself and had paid to have it delivered to Ambrosio. In turn, unaware of the subject's true identity, he had spent many hours meditating on the beauty of the woman, only to find out later that it was modeled from Matilda. Now rent from its sacred place, ripped and abused, it was obvious to Matilda that Ambrosio not only disliked her, he hated her.

"I love only our Master," she said resolutely. "I have no love for the monk any longer. I have only to gain his soul and I shall own him for eternity. I am to be a vessel for the Dark Master himself. I will have authority over the arch-demons, paid to me upon my death."

"I could sense that you had been changed. You are no longer entirely human," Asmodeus said. "You have tasted the delights of Lucifer's flesh." Asmodeus' eyes glowed with what could have been envy. "I am surprised that the experience did not condemn you to death." He looked away and she could sense a heat building inside of him.

"It was indeed delicious. No man or arch-demon could ever know such pleasure," she said, narrowing her eyes, smiling wide. Asmodeus was quiet, a scowl on his face... then the scowl twisted into a smile.

"Your monk... he advanced on the young Antonia. She refused his seductions and he was turned from the house. Our Master has made a deal with God. God insists that his perfect creation would never harm an innocent. God has insisted that the Dark One tempt Ambrosio."

"There is no denying he would rob Antonia of her innocence if presented with the opportunity."

"Yes, but his ultimate sin cannot be committed unless he enters that house once more and he is barred from Elvira's house. And if he cannot enter, you shall never have him." He chuckled. She could sense his disdain bundled with joy at what might cause her suffering. "And now I depart, for I can no longer be of any more service to you." With a deep bow, silver smoke consumed him and she was alone again.

She quaked with anger, the words echoing in her mind, 'he advanced on the young Antonia.'...'-,you shall never have him.'

"I shall have him!" she exclaimed. She quit her bed and changed into a fresh robe. Now was the time to present Ambrosio with the key to his undoing!

Outside of the monk's chamber, Matilda listened with her ear pressed to the door. She heard a mumbling, the sound of his fruitless prayers no doubt. She silently slid open the door and closed it behind her once inside. She took care to close the lock. Ambrosio's dark head lifted from the bed.

"Be gone!" he growled as he dropped his head back onto his cot.

"My sweet, my love," she cooed softly, dropping to her knees beside him. "I have brought you a gift from God."

He did not look up.

"Come now," she whispered. "I prayed at the alter of St. Francis. I asked forgiveness for my sins and asked for a gift I might give you to answer the prayers of your deepest heart."

She lifted the mirror from her cloak and laid it on the bed.

Ambrosio lifted his head, examining the mirror without touching it, "What new devilry is this?"

"It is a gift from god. St. Francis appeared to me and said this mirror will show you your deepest desires. Then it should be a relic and will bless the monastery for as long as its walls stand. He bade me bring it to you and ordered me to tell you of its powers." She lifted it so he could see the glass clearly.

Etched into its borders were characters unknown to him. At his glance they glowed fire-red and a thick smoke poured over the mirror. Shapes and colors flowed until they solidified into definable shapes. Ambrosio gasped in shock as Antonia's figure appeared in the mirror. She was undressing to bathe! His heart jumped and his manhood hardened instantly. She was only thinly veiled, but he could see the pert breasts rising and falling under the thin scarf. Her nipples hardened against a draft. A triangular shadow could be seen just barely through the lower part of the veil. Then she drew off the veil and his breath was caught in his throat. Her breasts bobbed free, porcelain globes with pink peaks, perfect for suckling. The sable curls at the apex of her thighs now shone in the sunlight from a near window and a blossom of maidenhood peaked out from underneath. His cock jumped beneath his robes.

"It is as I thought, then; I see your heart has been claimed by another," Matilda said, feigning a rueful tone. Ambrosio looked away in shame, unable to control his desire for the young woman. "Your joy is my joy, my love," she whispered in his ear. "I want what you want," she said, letting her fingers wander between his legs. Her hand gripped his rigid flesh. Taking his earlobe in her mouth, she teased it with her tongue as her hand stroked his aching manhood until he was moaning without restraint.

"If you go with me to the sepulcher, I can give you a charm to give you your heart's desire. She shall be yours, my love. I swear by this hand," she said, stroking his cock more furiously.

"Do with me what you will! If only I can have her!" he cried, his head dropping back, his eyes closed to Heaven, reveling in the delicious pleasure of each jerk of Matilda's squeezing fingers. "Oh Antonia!" he cried. His cock spasmed in her hand, a dark puddle forming in the cloak, a little dripping against her palm. She lifted her hand and licked the slick refuse away.

"Oh my love, my Ambrosio. You shall have her, I swear to you."

The image in the mirror faded and she stood.

"Now we must hurry," she commanded. "Follow me." Matilda pulled her hood over the golden curls atop her head and proceeded to the door. Wearily Ambrosio rose, pulling his cloak tight over his body. Knees shaking, he followed as best he could, not unlike a lovesick puppy, until they were soon treading the dark brown earth of the graveyard, then the sepulcher.

"Stay here," she instructed. He did so, twitching with anticipation until she returned. No longer wearing her habit, she stood in a sable robe embroidered with unknown characters, a jeweled belt hanging around her waist. The finery of her raiment was unearthly. She stretched out her hands, her wrists bearing bloody marks showing through fresh bandages. She looked a bit pale.

"Take this myrtle branch. With this, all doors will open at your whim and will allow you access to Antonia's bedchamber. Then, once in, breathe on it thrice, pronounce her name and lay it on her pillow. A death-like slumber will invade her body and she will be powerless against you. Take care, for the light of morning will break the enchantment. She will be deflowered but will not know her ravisher. Take this as a symbol of my friendship and love." There was a glimmer in her eyes that his wisdom advised him to distrust, but his lust prompted him to receive the branch.

He returned to his chamber, informing the other monks that he was to spend the day fasting and praying. Instead he waited with great agitation for the fall of midnight. When the bells gave the alert, he vacated the monastery grounds and made his way on foot to the house of Elvira. He held out the branch and the front locks unfastened themselves. It was fortunate for him that he knew the house so well. He was able to navigate in the darkness and soon found the entrance to Antonia's apartment.

Once more he lifted the branch to the door and the locks clicked open. He tried the door and slid it open. Through Antonia's sitting room he trod to her bedroom door. Silent as a mouse, he proceeded through another easily opened door and closed it behind him. He lifted the branch to his lips and breathed on it thrice, whispered Antonia's name, then approached the bed. He dropped it gently onto her pillow and a soft golden glow glittered over her body. Her breathing, which was already slight grew even more shallow and she was still, a small smile on her face.

His manhood stood rigid once more. His breath was hot in his lungs as he dragged the sheet from her sleeping body. With trembling fingers, he unbuttoned her shift. A creamy globe fell free from the thin cloth. He took it greedily in his hand and squeezed its perfection, twisting the rosy nipples in his fingers till they were red with pinch-marks. She issued a small moan that made him dizzy with delight. Impatient to see her full nakedness, he ripped the cotton shift down the front until her flat stomach was exposed, then the tiny lips between her thighs.

Pulling away his robes and then his trousers quickly, he laid his weight down on her slight frame. Her whole body was soft as velvet. His manhood tightened even further and he fought the impulse to fuck her immediately. He filled his mouth with her nipples, biting and sucking until he had had his fill of the sweet skin. Wetness dripped from his mouth as he lifted his head, dripping across her swollen breasts. He was an animal in heat now, all hardness and heat.

He dropped his head to her mouth, thumbing her chin down so her small dreaming smile parted. He thrust his tongue against hers and lifted his head to breathe deep, feeling as though he would burst if he didn't satisfy himself soon.

"Now you wanton, you temptress, I will prepare you for your desecration," he said almost angrily. He slid down over her until he was eye-level with her sex. He parted her knees and spread the lips of her cunt apart, exposing the pure flushed virgin flesh there. He scooped his hands under her backside, gripping handfuls of its roundness in his palms. He drove his mouth against the entirety of her sex, his face wet with the juices he created. He slid a hand out from underneath her and pulled apart the perfumed folds of skin. He licked hungrily at the little nub there until it was hard as nipple in his lips. Carefully, he spread the folds wider until her tiny fuck-hole was exposed. It looked impossibly small. No man had ever entered here and soon he would stretch her and fill her with his aching rod. Doing his best to hold on for just few more minutes, he filled the narrow opening with his tongue repeatedly, lifting his head to expectorate and push the frothy spittle as deep into her as possible without violating her virginity. His chin and nose were dripping when he lifted his head to look at her face. Her whole body was pink and a sheen of perspiration made her body glow.

"Be prepared my sleeping beauty, for the destruction of your innocence," he murmured. Even though he felt madness creeping in, he angled himself properly and watched as the head of his swollen member parted her cunt-lips. He pressed his cock-head further in until he felt the resistance of her maidenhood fighting the throbbing pressure of his muscle. One thrust vanquished it and he growled as he felt the last of his sanity wane. He stuffed her full of his cock then repeated the action.

Like a dog in heat, he furiously shoved his length against the walls of her channel. He ignored an impulse to pace himself at a rhythm that might have helped him last longer, instead his hips crashed against hers rapidly, his hands gripping her thighs tight until soon she was little more than a hot hole for his member to occupy then swiftly vacate. Now she was less than a person... now just a mass of used flesh, unaware and unheeding.

Finally, his cock-head buried deep in her cunt, his cum jettisoned into her womb, filling her until its heat spilled onto the tattered remains of her shift and sheets. He withdrew and leaned limp against the wall. Trickles of blood reddened the sheets. He steadily caught his breath and as he was leaving the bed, he heard a knock at the door. This threw him into a frenzy and before he could grab his clothes from the floor, the door was opening to reveal Antonia's shocked mother, Elvira.

"Lord in Heaven! What goes on here!" she gasped. She rushed to her daughter and broke into sobs. "You heathen! What have you done?!" Taking her daughter's shoulders in her hand, she shook them. "Antonia! Antonia! This sleep is not natural! What have you do-"

In his panic, Ambrosio had picked up a vase nearby and smashed it over Elvira's head. She collapsed like an abandoned marionette to the floor. Antonia still lay in oblivious sleep. Ambrosio quickly threw on his robes and prepared to vacate the chamber. He glanced behind him one last time. Elvira's eyes were open and a pool of blood was issuing from the back of her head. He was fair sure he had broken her head and horror struck him as the full realization of his sins fell upon him.

He ran from the house and walked as fast as possible, through the shadows like the snake he had become, until he reached to the monastery. He was just in time for matins and he only kneeled on the pulpit, not praying, knowing somehow he was beyond salvation. He had ravished one woman and killed another. Surely hell had a definite place for him. He returned to his cell and laid upon his liter, unmoving and petrified.

It was not until midnight that he rose from his bed and knelt in prayer at his open window. The moonlight was cold on his face. He shivered in remorse. Then there was a soft rumble from behind him and a flame filled the room. A figure wreathed in flame stood before him, cloaked in red.

"Sinner! I have come to collect you!" said the voice. He did not recognize whose it was at first and terror at the scene kept him from examining it closer.

"No! I have asked God for forgiveness," said Ambrosio, cowering against the wall.

"God has forsaken you, you unworthy sinner. Your entreaty comes too late! For it is one of the greatest sin you have knowingly and willingly committed yester-day." Through his trembling he was able to discern parts of the voice that were familiar.

"M... Matilda?" He quivered. The figure lifted a bejeweled hand and drew off the hood of its cloak. Her golden curls shone fiercely inside the wreath of flame. Her green eyes were now black and lifeless. Her smile was bright red and the teeth exposed when she did so were pointed and terrible.

"Yes, my Ambrosio. You have committed the final sin! Now you belong to me!" She threw out her arm and from it issued a gold light that encircled Ambrosio's throat until it formed the shape of a shackle, the tether of which led to the hem of her robe. He found he could not break free.

"It cannot be! Many a man have committed sin and received forgiveness!" He cried.

"Not so, for any man who commits sin and is penitent, may find salvation in time and with good works. But your time has run out! God has given you the chance to turn from your wickedness, but you have chosen the way of lust. The moment you accepted the myrtle branch, you gave your soul to darkness. And now you must know the whole truth!" She smiled from ear to ear. "You were an orphan, my slave, left on the doorstep of the monastery, this you know. You were brought up under the tutelage of the monks to be very holy. But upon this day, you committed your final sin, one of them upon your own mother!"

"No! It cannot be... Elvira was-!" He shrieked.

"Yes my fuck slave, revel in your sorrow!" she commanded with fire in her voice.

"It cannot be! No!" The truth drove him near madness and his heart seethed. Pain shot through his body.

"Yes! And as for your little slut which you ruined! Did you not realize why you were so drawn to her!? YOU NOW KNOW THE TRUTH! PROCLAIM YOUR SIN!"

"Antonia was my sister!" He screamed. Matilda threw her head back and let out an unearthly laugh, dark and blood-curdling.

"NOW YOU KNOW! And now you are mine forever! Come with me Ambrosio and suffer your eternal fate at my side!"

Flames tore through his body, his robes burning, his skin charring as his nerves burst into indescribable pain. Consumed in hellfire, they both disappeared. The flames rescinded, leaving nothing but ash and smoke in their wake.