It was a somber group of school girls who gathered in the convent chapel. Earlier that day they had been through a funeral, a funeral for Margret Marie, one of the favorite girls in the orphanage. She had only lived seven years before she took a fever, laying delirious for almost a week, being attended to by the sisters and the older girls, and then fading away late at night. Only two men, the Sexton and the idiot grave digger, had carried her casket, a plain wooden box, out into the graveyard and lowered it into the earth. Even now, it was impossible for most of the girls to imagine her in that box, in a still uncovered grave, cold as the ground around her.

In the ancient convent chapel with its candle-soot blackened walls, the girls gathered, twenty-two sat in the chairs while seven stood at the rail. The twenty- two were either too old, having become women, too young, still little children, or had already served as the anima custudum, the 'soul custodian' who, through her sacrifice, had insured that the departed's time in purgatory would be short, only lasting until her place was taken by the next unfortunate girl from the orphanage.

The Mother Superior walked along the line, each of the seven children reached into a basket, itself covered with a red velvet cloth, and removed a small stone, then held it in her palm without looking at it. Then, once the stones had been taken the Mother Superior nodded and each, in turn, held her hand out and opened it. A murmur went up when the fourth girl, a quiet nine year old blonde opened her palm to revel the white stone. The other girls soon gathered around her, smiling, whispering their congratulations. As for Theresa, she felt both elated and scared. Scared about the ceremony that she would be having soon, elated that God had chosen her to protect the soul of her friend, and a little sad for she would miss her friends for however long her service lasted. It could be only a day or two, it could be over a year, but she would be leaving the orphanage to live in the Bishop's home, until death took another girl from the orphanage.

* * *

Gregorian chant echoed through the cathedral during the procession. First the Censor, a teenaged man, swinging the smoking thurible, spreading the smell of incense through the cathedral. Next, the Crucifer, a novice monk, carrying a heavy golden cross, his elbows raised with his palms forward in front of his face holding the rosewood staff. Next came six candle bearers, boys, no older than 10. Then the Dean of the Cathedral, Father Charles, wearing a black cassock and red stole for the season of Pentecost, holding a gold bound bible over his head. Five paces behind him was the Bishop Stultz, a purple robe and white miter signifying his rank, the silver shepherds crook acting as a walking stick. Behind them came another six torch bearers. The twelve candles carried by the torch bearers did little to chase back the darkness but they did soften the shifting light from the large torches mounted four to a column in the cathedral.

There followed a procession of nuns, led by the older, then progressively younger women. Finally, came the Mother Superior and, with her, Sister Eunice, her assistant. Between them, being held with four white ropes one tied to each wrist, one to each ankle, was Theresa, dressed in a white robe. The last person in the procession was the current anima custudum, Rachel, tall for her age of 11 and, just as she had appeared for the past three months in church, naked.

The Censor passed through the alter rail, rising up the three progressive levels to the high alter, there to anoint the stone tablet. Next the Crucifer passed to his right and around the alter, placing the crucifix in a stand behind. Each torch bearer passed the alter to place the candle staffs on stands, forming a circle of twelve candles around the alter. Father Charles placed the heavy bible on the alter, genuflecting and crossing himself before walking behind the alter to stand to the right. Next was the bishop, passing to the left and taking up his position in the center, behind the alter, facing the gathered congregant of nuns and monks who had filed into the chairs below the rail.

The Abbes and her assistant, with Theresa between them, waited at the gate. The music stopped.

"Deus omnipotens, salvatorem et anima orbitas..."

["Almighty God, savior of children's souls,... we beseech thee, by this sacrifice, to bring your child Margret to your heart..."]

The Latin mass continued several minutes, sometimes with responses from the congregation, sometime with chanted responses from the monks in the dark loft above the narthex. With a nod, the two nuns brought Theresa foreword, then turned her to face the congregation. Her robe was a single piece of linen, more a blanket draped around her and held closed by a single lacing at her neck. Eunice untied the laces and Mother Superior lifted the cloth from her shoulders. Now the nine-year-old blonde, just a slip of a girl, stood naked before the congregation. Unlike Rachel, her chest was completely flat, two small dim nipples barely showed on her smooth skin. Her ribs were clearly visible, there was no flare to her hips, just slightly protruding hip bones. Her thighs and legs were skinny with a thin slit between tightly pulled lips, there was little rise to her sex. From behind her, Bishop Stultz considered the thin bony shoulder blades and small ass of the child. While the sight caused a surge of his gut, he also wondered if she was too small, whether her sacrifice would be too painful, possibly even injuring to the child.

The nuns guided the child backwards, helping her not to stumble on the last step up to the alter. When she felt it behind her, she lifted herself up, now sitting on the edge of the ornate marble block. The coldness was somewhat lessened by the white alter cloth.

The Bishop reached forward and, taking her shoulders, pulled her back. She put her arms out behind her to support herself. This naturally rocked her back on her hips, spreading her legs slightly and displaying her sex more openly. Mother Superior came around the alter and tied each of the ropes from the girl's wrists to a brass ring set in back of the alter, holding her back but still giving the child some ease of movement. Then Sister Eunice, taking the rope from her left ankle, and Mother Superior, taking the one from the right, tied them to rings on the outside corners, at the floor. These were tighter, so Theresa's legs were spread wide with her ass on the edge of the alter. Then the two nuns bowed to the crucifix overlooking the entire church and returned to the congregation.

From the dark recesses of the church began more chanting, this time the songs of the monks were joined by the voices of the children, the girls in the congregation providing an angelic counterpoint to the low and mystical sounds of the men's voices. The Bishop came around in front of the alter and, carrying a crystal bowl and silver aspersorium anointed the girl, first her head, then her shoulders, then thighs and, lastly, her sex with water. Then, turning to the rail, he anointed the assembled congregation, throwing droplets of water across the people. Finally he stopped before the anima custudum who had taken a place kneeling at the alter rail, wetting her forehead, arms and chest with the holy water. As he passed Father Charles on his way to his chair, the two men bowed.

Now Father Charles stood in front of Rachel. Looking down at the naked child he made the sign of the cross, giving her his blessing, then he opened his robe, uncovering his cock in front of her. Rachel reached out with both hands and cradled it, slowly stroking it to greater hardness before leaning forward and taking him in her mouth. His cock had a familiar feel and taste, the head fit nicely in the back of her throat as she slid the head and some of the shaft in and out. Father Charles looked out across the congregation, imagining them all sitting there naked. Many he knew, former anima custudumia who had served a term in the Rectory. Rachel had actually become one of his favorites, she seemed to take a special joy in her duties to him, often making her service last much longer than needed, bringing him to greater heights of spiritual ecstasy. He built quickly, not wanting to delay the service, Rachel knowing exactly what speed to use, how to best massage his nuts, when to switch from sucking to licking.

From her place on the alter, Theresa watched, wondering what his cock would feel like in her mouth, feeling a strange tingling in her sex, now spread and exposed to the air as it never had been before. She wanted to touch herself but the bindings prevented her. As it was, she unconsciously started rocking her hips as she watched Father Charles' movements become more intense.

The singing reached a crescendo and then abruptly went silent just as Father Charles grunted, his low voice echoing through the church. Rachel's mouth was flooded with his sperm but, this time, she was not to swallow it, but hold it. The priest humped several times into the pre-teen's mouth, each time firing another wad of cum, until she was over full, semen running down her chin. He finished and pulled back, a long white string of goo stretching out between the girl's lips and his cock. She looked up at him, her mouth open, showing him the enormous load of cum.

Father Charles, his dick still sticking out from the opening in his cassock, took the girl's hand and led her to the alter. There, standing above Theresa, between her legs, she looked down and slowly let the Father's jez drip from her mouth onto the younger girl's sex. White slime first splattered to the right of her vulva, on the large stretched tendon. Then more hit the top of her slit, running down over the ridge of her clit and into the folds below. The feeling of the droplets hitting her caused Theresa's tension to double, the sight of the priest's sperm on her sex made her feel an insufferable need. She writhed and humped, her legs held wide apart, her hands held from where she most desperately wanted to touch.

The singing started again as Rachel knelt down, on her knees at the alter. Theresa exploded in orgasm at the first touch of the older girl's tongue. Now Rachel could, again, taste the father's sperm but this time she was allowed to take it in her mouth and swallow. Theresa jerked and shuddered against her bindings as she came again and again. She fell back on her elbows, arching her back and staring up at the Crucifix, the sad Christ looking down at her, to her right, in a niche, the tender and solemn face of The Virgin, wearing a crown of small candles watched as the nine-year-old climaxed again and again.

Unnoticed by any of the congregation, the Bishop, Crucifer, and Censor had all pulled their robes off and, standing, had left them on the ornate chairs along the walls. The Bishop, leaving his mitre but still with the shepherd's crook approached the two girls at the alter. The other two men took up places behind the alter, to each side of Theresa.

The nine-year-old came one last time, jerking at the ropes, and the Bishop put his hand on the older girl's shoulder. Abruptly, the music stopped. She leaned back, away from Theresa and turned to face the Bishop's impressive cock, its bull head standing at her eye level. Playfully she kissed it, then she spat on it, a mixture of her saliva, the younger girls vaginal juices, and traces of Father Charles' sperm. Now, in the silence the Bishop took up his place between the sacrifice's legs. The child looked with fear at his enormous cock, then up at his stern face. She leaned back in submission.

Looking down, Bishop Stultz said a silent prayer as he placed his dickhead against the little slit. The two other men each placed a hand on her shoulder, holding her, then the Bishop shoved. Theresa's scream filled the church, passing down the corridors and into the minor chambers just as her maidenhead was ruptured and the over-large cock ripped deep into her. The Bishop was almost delirious with the vice like tightness of the girl as he stroked again, a smear of blood covering his dick and more blood running down the child's ass to make a dark stain on the alter cloth. As he humped again the pain began to pass, being replace by a building passion, and Theresa relaxed, leaning back again on her elbows, looking into the Bishop's eyes. As her ardor built she noticed the two assistance, on either side of her, stroking their cocks with their free hands. Now they pushed her down, her shoulders and head hanging off the edge of the alter, her back arched, her sex pushed upwards to be filled with the Bishops tool. In the silence, the moans and grunts, the panting breaths of the three men and one child could be heard throughout the cathedral. As they built the sounds became more desperate, the sight of the little girl, her virginity torn away, cock buried deep in her hairless slit brought the men to the height of ecstasy. First the Crucifer unloaded, shooting a string of his sperm across the girl's throat, then the Censor and the Bishop came at the same time, the Bishop's sperm filling the immature womb while the Censor's coated her flat chest. At the same time, Theresa was rocked by the most intense orgasm, her entire body shaking, staggered by the spasms which painfully clamped down on the Bishop's cock.

The Bishop stood, his head down, panting, his cock still in the child's pussy. As he pulled out it was followed by a rich mixture of blood and sperm. The two other men were regaining their strength, and now untied the girl. The Mother Superior came forward and helped her off the alter, then removed the cloth and quickly folded it, handing in to the new anima custudum. Theresa stumbled down the steps, still naked, blood smeared on her sex and down her thighs, cum running down her chest and onto her stomach. She clutched the alter cloth to herself as she led the procession out into the night.

Torches on stands lit the way down the stares, then to the right and into the graveyard. Margret's grave, still open, was lit by a circle of torches. As she stumbled along, the child did not notice the cold rain. She looked down into the grave. A crude and steep set of steps had been dug at the foot, leading down to the casket. The top was in two parts, the upper half having been removed, uncovering the mortal remains of Theresa's friend, also naked. The girl went down the steps, mud caked on her feet and oozed between her toes. On the last step she stumbled and fell forward onto her knees, landing with a loud thud on the top of the casket. She caught herself just before falling further but stopped, her face just above the placid expression of her friend.

"Sister, I pray that my sacrifice will bring you soon into the holy presence of God," she whispered. Then she placed the blood stained alter cloth on her friend's chest and struggled to her feet. The strong hands of the Censor and Crucifer grasped her and lifted her out of the grave. After the saying of a solemn prayer Father Charles lifted the wet and shivering girl into his arms. As the rest of the congregation filtered off into the darkness and the grave digger stepped down into the grave to close the casket, the priest carried the child toward the Rectory. Just before they entered the hollow sound of the first shovel full of dirt could be heard.