He had seen her come in with all her holiness. He'd tended to himself while his dear mother watched, and decidedly did nothing. It was easy, shackling a boy's soul when you were holding on to the only flesh that really mattered to him. Every time a pure notion came into the young heart, a tinge of pleasure from that thick rod was all it took to reel him back into the dark cage inside him. While Pelle was good, he had not seen enough things to make him wise of his own demise. People that fumble in their own darkness are easy to lead.<br/><br/>The two women conversed, and Pelle wanted to reach out to both of them. In his life they'd given him strength. That strength wasn't available to him now, and Hillie made sure his mother was gone soon. He was glad Sylvia was safe, but a voice in him told him it was abandonment. It hurt him, and it fed his propensity for vengeance. The plumb boy lips thinned slightly into an open mouthed smile when she came closer.<br/><br/>"Why do you prey to Father?" he asked, head sideways, slightly, blaring at her with brilliant green eyes with haunting darkness skirting them. His hand was running up and down a monstrous limb that Sylvia had seen grow. Hillie would be drawn to remember the length of it as the perceived height of a cross that had stood on her teacher's desk, when she went to Sunday school. Every time her eyes fell on it, it would seem by the angle that it was just for her.<br/><br/>"My Father, perhaps?" he suggested, as the precum bubbled out of the slit of his plaything. "You don't have to go through all that." clouds in the verdant orbs. "I am sure Joe would come for you." he offered, and licked his lower lip and beyond. Somehow the tip of the tongue effortlessly caressed the sharp of his chin before retreating. His scent would suddenly surround her head. Intimate sweat, turned to vapor, and the salts of a man. It filled up her sinuses and claimed her tongue, spread thick.<br/><br/>"Hang that thing on me, Sister." he offered, and nodded to the cross she was relying on. It would be a simple feat, to take off her necklace and thread it onto the member. He even let go with the attending hand so it would be easier for her. Such an accommodating demon. He licked the four fingers that had petted the monster, and then sucked the thumb clean too. "Do it and I'll hear you out." he offered. He wouldn't mind if she was complacent.<br/><br/>"Will you confess your sins into it, Mary?" he asked once the ornament dangled from his dick. "On your knees like it's customary. I should like to help you, like I am helping the boy." Pelle put his forearms on the armrests. "It'll always listen to you." A promise. "And if you're courteous with it, you can buy the boy some reprieve from being my toy. And the better you are, the better my mood's going to get." He looked her over like she'd already undressed. Eyes like oilspills on summer meadows stuck at her sex, staring at it intently through her clothes like she was perfectly exposed, like she'd reached down her own hand and split herself for his view. It would likely moisten for the demon, with blood.