She wanted me to be cruel and to debase her, to shame her for the incest, to make her dirty. I had urinated on her, my own daughter, because she had w...ithed on the ground with mud all over her body, and pleaded for me to do it. It had aroused the succubus spirit within me, the part that desired the heinous and wrong simply because it was heinous and wrong, and I had shared in the darkness with Rose. Covered in my steaming piss, I’d ridden her face, grabbing her by the horns and making her taste. For whatever reason, The Right Reverend Michael O’Reilly had decided that he just had to see his wife lusting for him, openly desiring him. He had even imagined her having sex with other people, both men and women. And he wanted her to want it herself, to lust for a sexual depravity that knew no bounds. There was no reason for this, no sign in any way from Faith that she had ever entertained any such thoughts, yet The Right Reverend Michael O’Reilly found himself constantly filled with thoughts. More

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