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Vox straightened his suit as he stood from the pew. Parishioners milled about still, lining up to speak to the priest as if he could somehow grant them salvation into heaven’s pearly gates if they but only had a few more moments of his time.
The idea alone had Vox scoffing, but he did what he did best and put on a showman’s smile. There would be people who notice him, remember him, but that was the price he paid for being him.
“Father Francis!” Vox held out his hands, palms out, and spread in greeting. Nothing to see here, folks, just a friend greeting the father. “It’s so good to see you.”
Father Francis greeted, wrapping Vox in his arms in a tight hug. The preacher patted Vox’s back, whispering in his ear, “Wait in the confessional box.”
Vox nodded, walking confidently over to the booths. He made a point of admiring the ornate craftsmanship; the details carved deep into the wood while he also looked around to see if anyone was watching him.
As soon as the coast was clear, Vox opened the door closest to him and stepped inside. The dim light inside was just enough to see by, not illuminating much in the way of details.
There wasn’t much inside the small booth, all things considered. The bench was simple and hanging on a small hook inside the door was a spare set of robes, much like those that the good Father wore on a typical day.
“Mr. Vox?” Father Francis poked his head inside the door.
“Do you have the payment?” Vox asked, keeping his voice low.
“I need to make a run to the hospital. A parishioner’s father is not well, I- It’s urgent, Mr. Vox.” The man stood just inside the small booth, looking sheepishly at Vox.
“You’re not trying for a delay, are you, old chap?” Vox made a show of looking at his nails, not wanting Father Francis to have any more attention than Vox deemed necessary.
“No!” Father Francis repeated the word, softer as he looked around sheepishly. “Not at all. I’ll have the funds. I just- we don’t think he’ll make it more than a few more hours. It’s vital that he has his last rites. You understand, don’t you?”
“Sure,” Vox waved his hand as if he was batting away a bug. “I’ll just wait right here. You won’t be long, will you?”
“Make yourself comfortable in the chapel.”
“Oh,” Vox laughed. “I’ll be waiting right here.”
“No, no-” Father Francis laughed awkwardly as he reached for the door. “Someone will mistake you as a preacher. You-”
“Good!” Vox said, a smile blooming on his face. “All the more reason for you to hurry back.”
~~~~~<3
Vox sat, passing the time, playing what amounted to dress up. The last thing he wanted was to step out of the little box and have to deal with socializing. Instead, he put on the robes, dressing himself in the garb of Father Francis’ role. He admired the feel of the robes, how different they made him feel, only to freeze in place at the sound of door hinges squeaking.
Someone stepped into the booth on the other side of the wall. Vox looked back and forth in a panic, hoping to find some sort of hint, something to tell him what he should do or say next.
“Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned.” Your soft voice carried through the wall easily. You sat neatly on the small bench, head down, as you focused on your task.
“Haven’t we all,” Vox whispered under his breath.
“I’m sorry?” You looked up, eyes glanced at the mesh that obscured your view of the man on the other side of the wall. You couldn’t see much more than the basic shape of him sitting there.
“Nothing,” Vox waved the question away, out of habit more than anything, not knowing if you could see him at all. “Carry on.”
“It has been… it has been a while since my last confession, Father.” Your fingers twisted in the soft fabric of your skirt as you tried to will the tears back from your eyes. The air in the booth tasted bitter and stale on your tongue, but you forced yourself to take a deep lungful of it, anyway.
“Tell me of your sins?” Vox urged, not knowing for sure if it was the right thing to say but wanting to urge you on. You had such a pretty voice. He couldn’t help but wonder if the face matched it. Hell, did your body match the voice?
“I’ve… lust has plagued me,” you whispered, struggling to find your voice in the face of the horrible things you had been thinking. “I- the thoughts come to me during the darkness of night, during the devil’s hours. I focus on my prayers, but the thoughts- they even come to me in my dreams.”
“And what are those thoughts, exactly?” Vox asked, leaning forward.
“I beg your pardon?” Your voice wavered as you looked again at the mesh between you.
“I need to know the details of your thoughts,” Vox said, eyes straining to look through the mesh to see the woman sitting on the other side. “How else can I offer you absolution?”
“I-” you hesitated only for Vox to speak over your doubts.
“You can trust me,” Vox said, smile spreading wide. “I’m just a man of God, here to help.”
“Okay,” Doubt lingered in your voice, but you pushed on. “There’s been men- I’ve been noticing them. I’ve been noticing things about them and thinking-”
“What have you been noticing about them?” Vox asked, scooting closer to the mesh, hoping to see something more than just your silhouette.
“Oh.” The sound came out as a sweet little squeak that ran down Vox’s spine. “The… the way their pants rest on their…their bodies.”
“What parts of their bodies?” Vox pressed. “You need to be honest and detailed or I cannot help you.”
“Right,” you sighed the word, face and chest growing hot with the words you were going to say. “The way they rest on… their hips and around their… pelvis.” It took you a while to settle on the right word, unsure how… vulgar the good Father wished for you to be. “I also… notice the way their shirts fit across their chest or the way the muscles in their hands and arms move.”
“And what does that noticing inspire?” Vox leaned closer to the mesh wall. “Our God made the human form in his perfect image, did he not? Isn’t admiring the beauty of it little more than worshiping of His greatest work?”
“I-” You sighed, “Yes, I suppose, but… It makes me think of how it would feel if they… if they gave me their attentions.”
“In what sort of way?” Vox had his face nearly pressed against the mesh now, finally seeing you, though poorly.
“In…. romantic ways.” Your voice came meeker as shame washed over you.
“How?” Vox pressed, needing more, wanting more. He could hear the shame in your voice, the watery sound of emotion threatening to choke your words.
“I… I think of how it would feel to have their hands on my.. on my thighs or touching my breasts.” You choked on the words, face burning with shame as you ran your hands through your hair. Curling in on yourself, you willed the words to continue. If you couldn’t say it, he couldn’t help you. “I think of how it would feel if they kissed me and held me as a husband should hold his wife.”
“And how is that?” Vox shifted, pants growing tighter under the robes. “You must be very detailed, my child. The devil is in the details and you do want me to help you, don’t you?”
You whimpered, curling in on yourself more. Never had you felt so shameful sitting in this little booth. It had been a place of comfort for most of your life, but now? Shame was all you felt. It had been too long since you had come. That was what made your mind, heart, and soul weak.
“I think of… the feeling of his skin against mine. I- Of the way his lips would feel on my skin… and what it would feel like to have them… have them take me to their beds and lay with me.” Tears welled in your eyes as you confessed to the good Father your sins.
“Have you acted on these desires?” Vox asked, palming his hardening cock through his pants.
“I am pure,” you whispered, pleading with the priest on the other side of the thin wall to believe you. Your attendance slipped, but you were still godly. You hadn’t acted on the thoughts. You had done nothing forbidden. He had to believe you. God had to believe you, had to know.
“Even to yourself?” Vox asked, pulling his cock from his pants, moving slowly to make as little noise as possible. Once he was free, head brushing against the inside of the robes, he wrapped his fingers around his shaft. A sigh whispered between his lips as he leaned back, shifting his hips toward the edge of the seat as he worked his fist over the length of him slowly. “Do you touch yourself to these thoughts? Do you indulge in the- the lust of them?”
“I-” Tears ran down your cheeks. You were crying openly now, no longer making an effort to hide it. If you wanted forgiveness, you had to lay it all bare in front of the Father and in front of God. “I almost did, Father. Last night- That’s why I came here. Please, I do not wish to sin.”
“Do you feel it?” he murmured, his voice low and deliberate as his hand began to move faster over his length. “That ache inside you, the one that refuses to be ignored?”
“Yes, Father.” You answered, though you were not sure you understood. The ache inside you was the demon, clawing at your insides, demanding your fall.
“The cure is surrender,” he said, leaning closer to the mesh. “You have to open yourself completely. Let yourself be filled, every inch of you, until there’s nothing left but the purity of what you’ve accepted.”
Your pulse quickened, your voice barely audible. On the other side of the thin wall, you could just hear a rhythmic rustling, almost. It was a ghost of the sound, as if he was rubbing his leg. “And if I can’t?”
A slow smile curved his lips. “You will,” he said, his tone curling around you in sinful delight. You told yourself it was little more than the whispers of demons. “You just have to let it take you... wholly.”
“I’m scared.” Your voice was broken, strangled by fear and shame.
“Oh fuck,” Vox whispered, precum smearing against the inside of the robe. “The price for absolution will be high, my child.” Vox struggled to keep his voice steady as he swiped a thumb over the head of his cock, smearing the slick fluid that hadn’t been wiped away yet.
“I’ll do whatever it takes,” you cried, turning to face the man you could not see, tears dropping from your chin. The scraping of your nails against the wooden frame of the booth was loud in the small space, or at least it seemed that way to you and to Vox.
“The cure for lust is to be filled with- with the Holy Spirit.” Vox said again, “This is a ceremony of utmost seriousness a-and we must begin it immediately.”
Vox was certain you would question him. There was no way you would just accept his lies. Surely he was too far off the accepted script, but damn, you sounded so sweet and innocent, sitting there crying in the other half of the box… and he wanted you.
He wanted to take that innocence and grind it under his heel. It angered him in a way that he couldn’t explain that something as sweet and innocent as you could exist, untainted.
“What must I do?” you whispered. “I’ll do anything to be in God’s graces again, to be freed of this demon. Please, Father. Please, help me?”
“Good,” Vox sighed, cringing as he tried to shove his cock away, settling on fastening his pants up over his shaft. The waistband pinned his head to his abdomen. “Stand up and close your eyes,” Vox said, smile growing wide and greedy. “Do not open them until I tell you. I’m going to lead you to a room where we can see to this ceremony.”
“But Father-?” You stood, eyes fluttering shut even as you questioned him. You were, at your core, a good girl who listened to the authority of the Church.
“Do you trust your God?” Vox asked, standing himself. “Do you trust in the power he has vested in me?”
“Yes,” you said without a shadow of doubt as that feeling twisted your insides. It was a vile, uncomfortable feeling that had you shifting your weight from one foot to the other.
“Good girl,” Vox said, stepping out of the booth.
The church was empty. His eyes settled on the altar and oh, he would love nothing more than to push everything off of it and take you right on top of it. That wouldn’t do, though. It would be pushing you too far.
He opened the door to your booth, finding you standing with your eyes closed. You were just as he hoped you to be. Perfect and meek and oh so good. You looked like a ripe fruit, ready for the picking. Perhaps you were an apple?
Vox was eager to spoil you for all that would come after him. “Keep your eyes closed.”
“Why?” you asked, even as you continued to obey, walking forward as a hand wrapped around your arm at the elbow, tugging you softly out of the box.
“Why, we must keep the sanctity of the confession.” A wicked smile spread on Vox’s face, though you could not see it. All you could hear was the soft care in his voice, promising you he was a man who cared about what’s best for you.
Vox lead you carefully through the church. He wasn’t totally unfamiliar with the building. The altar was too risky, but Father Francis’ office- surely no one would go in his office without at least knocking first. He watched as he lead you, ensuring your eyes stayed closed each step of the way.
You allowed yourself to be led, heart pounding in your chest as you squeezed your eyes closed. Fear kept trying to worm itself into your mind, but you pushed it back down again and again, reminding yourself that you were safe. You were with a man of God.
“Where are we going?” you asked. “What happens next?”
Vox shushed you. “I need you to show faith in your God.”
Vox walked you into the office, your simple heels clicking against the hardwood floors. After directing you to stand where you were, Vox made quick work of cleaning the desk of the stacks of papers and books Father Francis left littered on the surface.
Once the task was seen to, he returned to your side, placing a steady hand at the small of your back. “We’re just about ready.”
“Can I open my eyes?” you asked.
“Not now,” Vox said, smoothing down the hair at the back of your head as he walked you up to the desk. “You must show great faith as I exercise the demons of lust from you. You cannot open your eyes before I say you can. Are you ready and willing to offer your body up as a sacrificial lamb in exchange for absolution?”
“What is going to happen?” Your voice trembled as you once again reminded yourself that you needed to trust the Father. He would take good care of you, as was his duty. He wouldn’t harm one of his flock. Still, the very idea of giving your body as sacrifice terrified you. “Will it hurt?”
“No,” Vox said sweetly, “I promise I will try my best to not cause you any pain.”
“What must I do?” You tried to sound brave, tried to lean on your faith for the strength to get through the unknown trials ahead of you.
“Bend over.” Vox brought your hand to the solid surface of the old wooden desk. “Lay over this. Whatever comes next, know that I am working as an agent of the divine to purge you of these sinful thoughts. You are safe in God’s house. The Devil cannot touch you here.”
“Yes, Father.” You laid across the flat surface. Cold from the wood radiating up into you as you willed your breathing to slow, trying to be calm.
What attempts you made at calming your nerves were undone as a large hand ran along your thigh, moving over the thick fabric of your skirt. You squeezed your eyes closed as the hand moved around your side, caressing up the curve of your ass.
“Have faith,” you whispered to yourself as the hand hooked under the elastic band of your skirt and your panties. “Have faith.”
“Yes,” Vox said above you. “Have faith. This is what must be done to purge you of your sinful thoughts. I must be able to see the areas where you long to feel the touch of sin to purify it.”
“What should I do?” You asked again, not daring to open your eyes.
“Just lay there,” Vox answered. “I will take care of everything.”
He wasn’t surprised in the slightest to see the full coverage, modest panties fall to the ground around your ankles along with your skirt. What did surprise Vox was that your stockings were thigh highs, not tights that would reach up to your waist. A part of you enjoyed the feeling of something scandalous, a little sexy.
You trembled, laying on the desk as your most private place was exposed. “Have faith,” you whispered again and again before whispering prayers. It felt right while you were being prepped for a ceremony that you should pray.
Vox looked at your folds, moist but far from the slick pathway he would need your virginal body to be.
“Stay just like that,” Vox said, running his hands over the naked curve of your ass before leaving you.
Things clattered around you as the Father looked around the room, looking for something. You laid there, listening as you whispered your prayers. Even within the sanctity of the church, you could feel the siren call of lust demanding your attention.
The feeling of the Father’s hand on your skin felt good, and that was sinful. That was why you needed him to purify you. You needed help. He had to help you.
You needed something, though you didn’t understand what it was your body was longing for as you shifted your weight from one foot to the other. The change in position stimulated something between your legs, something sinful that had you shifting your weight again, thighs rubbing against each other as you did so.
Vox returned to you, standing back for a moment to just watch as your thighs moved against eachother. From between your puffy folds, he could see the glittering of slick starting to build ever so slightly, reflecting the dim light in the room back at him.
You may have been a pure church girl, but your body responded like the slut you wanted to be. He smiled, knowing you were aroused even if you didn’t understand it at the time.
“Move your feet apart,” Vox ordered, eyes locked on your folds as they spread, exposing your opening more. “Good girl.”
“Please,” you whispered. “I need to be freed from this sin. I- I can feel it calling to me, tempting me even here.”
“Sin cannot reach you here,” Vox said, opening the bottle of anointing oil and sniffing it. There was nothing to the scent that gave him any reason to believe it would sting or burn either your sensitive walls or him. “I am going to anoint you now.”
Cold wetness dripped onto your core, running over folds and down your legs as you jumped. Vox shushed you, offering honeyed words of reassurance as he spread the slick oil over your exposed sex.
The strange sensation wasn’t unpleasant, and that terrified you. You trembled under his touch, body begging you to lean back, to chase the feeling of his hands running along your slick folds.
“Isn’t this a sin?” You struggled to keep your eyes closed, wanting nothing more than to look back at the Father for reassurance.
“It is a blessing,” he said, robes shuffling. “Keep your eyes closed and I’ll save you from the demons of lust.”
“Okay,” you whispered, wanting to believe him. He was a priest. He was a man of God. He wouldn’t hurt you. He wouldn’t cause you to sin.
For a moment, Vox simply stepped back, admiring the view you made while he pulled the robes up, gathering it around his abdomen and tucking the fabric into the back of his pants. He carefully worked his fly down, trying to make as little noise as possible before he returned his hands to you.
He gripped the globes of your ass, spreading you open for a clearer view of your slicked up hole. Fuck, he groaned internally. You looked tight. It would make sense. You were a fucking virgin, unspoiled even by yourself.
Vox looked forward to ruining that.
Vox poured some of the oil onto his shaft, smearing it around and slicking himself up as he watched your legs shake with how badly you wanted to close them. You were such a good girl, listening to him so well.
He would reward you for that obedience. How many times could he bring you to orgasm? Would your body be responsive, or would you fight the pull of pleasure? Vox knew he was going to ensure you at least had one. Sure, this had very little to do with you but he was anything but a selfish lover.
Vox rubbed the blunt tip of his cock through your folds, critical eyes cataloging every reaction of your body. He watched as your muscles tensed as he probed your entrance and jumped under your skin as he nudged your pretty little clit.
The slick oil was far from a perfect lubricant but hopefully, you would soon relace it with your own natural productions. Vox pressed the head of his cock against your opening, parting the walls for the first time with such slowness he would consider it to be care.
“What are you-?!” you gasped, spine pulling tight and lifting your head up off the desk as his bulbus head popped inside of you. The stretch of him burned. Your eyes shot open, though you did everything you could to not look over your shoulder.
Hands rested on your bare hips, holding you in place. It wasn’t needed. You didn’t have anywhere you could have gone with the desk in front of you.
“In order to purify you,” Vox said, thumbs rubbing soothing circles on your lower back. “The oil must go inside the core of your lust. It must be placed with something holy.” As he spoke, he sank deeper and deeper into you. The way your body squeezed around him made it hard to think or breathe, but Vox knew he couldn’t afford any mistakes. You had believed everything he had said and he would not fuck it up now. “You understand, don’t you? I’m doing this for you, to save your soul.”
“Yes, Father.” The words tumbled out of your mouth as you felt the front of his pants press into your ass.
The feeling of something inside of you stole your breath away. You felt so full as his seated cock twitched inside you, spreading blessed oil onto your inner walls. Your mind screamed at you that this was wrong, that something was wrong, but you refused to think about that. The burning pleasure of his holy tool pulling from your anointed body was more important.
You expected him to withdraw from you now, having used his most holy tools to anoint you from the inside out. Instead, he pushed inside you again, moving slowly enough that your walls allowed him to drag but not lingering.
“What is happening?” You asked as his hips again nestled against your ass.
“I carry in me the Holy Spirit,” Vox said, thrusting slowly into you again and again, feeling as your body adjusted to the intrusion. “It takes time for me to deposit it within you. Only then will you be pure again of sin, free of the demons of Lust.”
Shudders ran down your body as you struggled with the full feeling of having something inside you. It felt wrong, but not unpleasant. You wanted more of it and for him to stop all at once.
It was alright; you kept telling yourself that again and again. He was a holy man. It wasn’t fornication; it was a ceremony. He wasn’t acting as a man. He was acting as a vessel of the Lord.
You struggled as he pushed into you. You wanted to chase the feelings he was giving you, the sensations whispering of pleasure you could only imagine if you just gave in. Surely, resisting the call of the pleasure was a part of the test.
“Give in,” Vox whispered above you. “Relax. Let it happen.”
“Oh-” your breath hitched, breaking the sound up into a gasp. Confusion warred with the pleasure of the ceremony. “Okay.”
Vox looked down at you, watching as your body shifted up the desk with every slow thrust in. You were so tight wrapped around his cock. Tight, innocent, virginal as you whispered your sweet little prayers, begging for salvation even as he ruined you.
Vox couldn’t help the grin that spread on his face as he slowly picked up his pace. Each thrust into you brought pleasure through you both, stroking nerves that no one had touched before.
As his thrusts came faster, you couldn’t manage to take a full breath. The force of his godly hips hitting your ass knocked the breath from your lings. Each thrust hit you with a spike of pleasure, making your voice jump as he hit something inside you that seemed to act like a wall.
“Oh, ow!” you jerked away from the feeling.
“Shh,” Vox cooed behind you, pushing his cock deep into you, slowly pushing your cervix back to allow him to truly bottom out. Reaching around your hips, he ran his fingers over your oiled folds, searching until he found the nub of your clit. “Just relax. Your body will make room for me, for God. That’s the demon inside you.”
It took everything in Vox to not laugh at the nonsense he was spewing, focusing instead on the way your warm body felt around him.
“The demon?” You whimpered as his cock pushed against that painful thing again.
“Yes,” Vox said as his fingers slipped around your oil coated clit. “Can you feel it?” He knew you could. There was no way your body could lie to him. He felt the way your body clenched when he hit your cervix. He felt the ripples of tensing muscles that irritating the sensitive end of your tunnels caused.
“I can,” you gasped. “It hurts me. Will you chase it away?”
“I will,” Vox promised as he worked his cock into you again and again. “You must submit and let whatever happens happen.”
His body slapped against yours, the sharp edge of the desk cutting into your hips with each thrust. Pain shot up through you as he hit the demon again and again. Along with the pain, pleasure came. You tried to focus on the sensations, the pleasure that the blessing was giving you.
Each thrust into you by the holy tool brought more and more pleasure. “Something’s happening,” you cried out as your muscles tensed. Something inside you felt like it was becoming brittle and ready to break. “Something’s-”
“Let it happen,” Vox said. “It’s alright.”
Your legs spread more, chasing the feeling of the blessing. It felt… so good. That was why this ceremony was a secret. If anyone knew how good it felt, they would think it was sinful.
Vox was more than pleased to watch your feet inch further apart, giving him better access to your clit. That and a small pinch to the sensitive bundle was all it took to have your walls twitching and clamping down around his cock.
“Oh,” Vox moaned, choking off the curse that so badly wanted to tumble from his lips. “That’s it.”
Your fingers dug into the desk as your eyes clamped closed. It felt like the good Father was pulling your body apart, ripping every muscle fiber from another before putting them all back together again.
“Good girl,” Vox whispered, riding the waves of your orgasm, thrusting through the sensitive walls as he waited for their waves of pleasure to calm. “You’re doing so good for me, for your- for our God.”
“Is it- Are we done?” You panted, fingers twitching as his pace slowed. “Is it outside of me?”
“No,” Vox sighed, reaching down and wrapping a large hand around your leg. He lifted it, twisting and rolling your body so that you were spread wide, leg bent and hooked around his torso. Each thrust into you in the new position had his pants rubbing against your sensitive clit as his shaft worked into your tight hole.
“No?” You whimpered, torn. You should have been disappointed, but you were far from it. You wanted the Father to continue his ceremony, working his tool into you repeatedly, giving you such pleasure.
That was the demon talking. You knew that. That’s why you needed him to purify you. Only God’s blessing would save you from the demon within you, trying to pervert a holy ceremony.
“Please,” you whispered, eyes slitting open as you looked at the ceiling. “Please, my God.”
Vox smiled, hand running up your side as he held your leg to his torso. “That’s right, doll.”
You could feel him pushing against nerves you hadn’t realized went untouched before. Each thrust into you stole your breath as you focused on trying to keep your eyes closed. Pleasure had nearly replaced all the pain and discomfort now. Each thrust into you was smooth and filling.
“Oh, God,” you whispered, pleasure building as it had before. You knew now that when it reached its peak, something magical, powerful would happen. Was that something God had given you, something that was a part of the ceremony? Or perhaps it was something you could look forward to sharing when you married and gave your body to your husband.
“Unbutton your shirt,” Vox ordered, struggling to push back his orgasm. He wanted to see you finish at least one more time.
“Why?” Your protest came out more as a sigh than anything else, fingers acting before you had an answer.
“The demon will leave through your skin,” Vox lied, pleased to see you doing as he said without question. The pleasure mixed with your faith, making you the perfect little fuckdoll.
He pushed your shirt back from your body, exposing your white bra. Of course it was simple, covering the whole of your breasts. It was expected though he wished he could have seen them.
All in good time. Perhaps after a second orgasm you’d be fucked too stupid to question why he needed to see your tits. It was just a matter of time. You were already getting there, one orgasm in. Virgins were so fucking easy.
Each thrust pushed you against the desk. Your foot lifted off the floor, the toe of your shoe grazing the hardwood floor as he pushed into you again. A flush rose to your chest and face anew as you caught sight of the man working into you, handsome and unknown.
“Father?” you whispered, watching his eyes leave your exposed sex and run up your body. “I don’t-”
“Shh,” his voice came out soft, reassuring as he rocked his tool into you harder and faster. “You’re doing so good for me, my child.”
“Who-” The tightening in your body stole the ability to question anything. Whatever had happened early was coming dangerously close to happening again.
“Priest,” Vox groaned out the word and by god, you accepted the answer, moaning as his tool twitched inside you. “You’re going to be so pure, so holy.”
The promise of healing, of forgiveness mixed with the promise of pleasure, sending you over the edge once again. Your back arched with the force of the muscle contractions, breasts pushing out as your toes curled in your shoes. Sweet moans flowed from your mouth.
“Oh God,” you cried out as the handsome Father’s fingers dug into your thigh and hips. “Oh God. Bless me.”
“Soon,” Vox whispered. “Soon, my child.”
“More?” You whispered, as his tool twitched strongly inside your clinched walls. “Do we need to go more?”
“Yes,” Vox groaned, watching the way your folds twitched with the power of your internal contractions. Your body was begging him for his seed. “Lay back now.”
Vox helped you roll onto your back, passing your leg to his other side. He guided your other leg up, resting them both on his shoulders. Leaning forward, strong hands ran up your sides as he watched your eyes flutter, settling on him, dazed.
There was nothing he had to fear now. You were far too drunk on his cock to think about what he wore under his robes or why you had never seen him before. He pushed the soft cotton of your bra up, freeing your tits from their confines.
“What-?” The question was little more than a sigh as you watched him reach for a bottle on the side of the desk.
“I need to anoint you,” Vox said, thrusting lazily into you. “Where the demon has wanted you to sin.”
Warmth radiated off the hand he planted on the desk, tempting you to reach out for him. Cold oil splashed as it drizzled on your chest. The tool inside you twitched as a thin stream of oil ran over your breasts.
Vox set the bottle aside, not bothering to put the stopper on before reaching out to you again. His warm hand smeared the slick oil over the mounds of your chest, fingers slipping over your nipples in a futile attempt to pinch the pebbled buds.
You arched into the touch, begging for his blessing. Your hips rocked, forcing him to move inside you, seeking more.
Once your skin was shiny with the oil, dim office lights reflecting off your curves, Vox’s hand returned to your hip. Finally, he began to thrust into you again. He watched, eyes roaming eagerly as he pounded into you with more force than he had before.
Your body jerked harshly on the desk, no longer pinned in place by your legs as his hips crashed into you again and again. Each blow into you pushed against that thing, that sign of the demon inside of you. The pain was less, just as he had promised it would be.
“Bless you,” you gasped as the pleasure of his tool hitting that place outweighed the pain. The demon was being purged from you with each thrust inside of you. “I want to be pure.”
“You will be,” Vox grunted, pushing your legs off his shoulders. He pushed your legs down, causing your heels to click against the wooden floor. “I can see it inside you.”
Vox was talking about the way his cock pressed out against your abdomen, but you, sweet innocent you shuddered, thinking he could see the demon inside of you.
“Please,” you moaned the words. “Please, make me pure, make me holy. Please, I want to be free from sin. Please, Father. Please.”
Your begging was just what Vox wanted to hear. His cock twitched and swelled, threatening to explode within you, but he pushed his orgasm back, focusing on anything else. He threw your legs back over his shoulders and leaned into you.
He nearly folded you in half as the desk groaned under the weight. Dark hair that had once been so perfectly combed back fell into his eyes as he pounded his tool into you. The pleasure was overwhelming, pulling moans from your lips easily.
Your breasts moved with every harsh thrust, tempting Vox to taste the oil he had smeared onto them. Your chants, pleas for your silly God to protect you, to bless you, went on and on as your body tightened. The force of your orgasm choked the words off, throat too tight for them to push through.
“Vox?” The door to the office opened as Father Francis stepped into view.
“Shit,” Vox hissed, jerking back from you just as his cock twitched, ropes of hot seed cascading from his tip as he slipped from your warm, milking embrace.
Vox wrapped his hand around his cock, eyes only darting over his shoulder for a moment before he focused on working his hand quickly over his length. Cum shot out, splattering your folds before he adjusted the angle, salvaging the situation.
“Oh God,” you cried out as his holy spirit landed on your stomach. Ropes of it shot out from his tool, landing on your chest and running down your oil covered breasts.
“What are you doing in here?” Father Francis snapped before remembering himself. Vox was not a man to be fucked with. Certainly, Vox was not a man he could afford to fuck with.
“I was waiting for you to return, Father. Entertaining myself.” Vox said, shrugging his shoulders as he tucked his softening dick into his pants. The sound of his zipper being pulled up was deafening in the small office.
You rose up on your elbows, looking to Father Francis and the new Father with wide eyes.
“Father Francis,” you said. “The new Father- he was helping rid me of…” your words trailed off as the new Father reached behind him, pulling the robes off and tossing them aside without a care.” Rid me of the demon of… Of lust..”
“He’s no Father.” Father Frances said, handing the other man an envelope and ordering, “You need to leave.”
“Don’t keep me waiting next time,” Vox said, winking over his shoulder at you as you scrambled to cover your body, pulling your shirt across your breasts and pulling your knees up to your chest.
Panic ran through your veins like cold ice as you realized the man you had been with was no priest. The world wavered as tears welled in your eyes. He was no man of god; he was a demon personified and you? You were nothing more than a dirty sinner.
Fornication was your crime.
Father Francis watched Vox walk away as if he hadn’t potentially ruined someone’s life before looking back at you. It didn’t surprise him in the least that you had fallen for the charming lies; you were innocent as could be.
“You are not guilty of the sins another enacted upon you. Our Lord forgives you for anything he may have led you to do. Go… Go clean yourself up.” Father Francis turned on his heel, walking out of his office as tears ran down your face.
You were dirty, defiled. He had stolen your purity from you. God had let him take from you within his own house. You felt betrayed and worthless. The emptiness within you was crushing as you pulled your bra down over your breasts.
It was on that day that you came face to face with the demon of lust in the church. You had been too weak to resist the temptation. You had lost the battle that day, but you walked out of the church with a renewed determination to live your life godly, sinless.
Though you had the holiest of intentions, in the darkness of night, your hand crept up your thighs as you remembered what it felt like to be taken by the demon of lust.