#priest corruption

[benzendrine-nosebleed]

"A Prayer On His Lips, A Hail Mary in his Hips (Formerly 'Forgive, Me Father') PART 3!!

So, it's been a hell of a week since I uploaded part 2, and I just gotta say, I've really been enjoying getting back into the Tumblr scene and enjoying being a fangirl again and not actually being ashamed of it! I've been so much happier lately writing something I'm passionate about, and my Fiancé is happy that I'm comfortable enough to write my dumb little heart out every day. I've written somewhere around 30k words in the past month, and that's way more than I've written in the past, so from the bottom of my heart, thanks guys. I love your support, and your love for my fics. I have another one in the works too, but I don't know when I'll put it out yet.

Anyways, I had actually named this story "A Prayer on His Lips, a Hail Mary in His Hips" but forgot to name it that when I posted the first part. So, without further ado, Part 3!

Info: 4900 words long, ABSOLUTELY NSFW, enjoy and let me know if you'd want a part 4!

Is that was I am, Father? A lost, wayward lamb?” I asked playfully, still seated before him. The sun had shifted in the sky, filling the room with golden rays trying to catch a peek at us, basking in the sins of the flesh.

“Y’are,” he mumbled, smirking. “But I like that a lot, it makes me want to teach ya things. I want to show you The Shepard, it makes me want to bring ya to the herd. I wanna see you every week, kneeling before the cross, before me as I deliver flesh to your pretty lips again.”

“Oh, you’ll see me kneeling Father. I’ll be in the front pew, kneeling just like this,” I motioned to myself, perking up as his gaze freely wandered up and down my body, “Praying for the sins I’ll want to keep committing.”

His eyes lifted to mine again, a grin growing on his face as he came down from his high. His hand came off of his thigh, lifting my chin to meet his face. His fingertips were gentle on my chin as he brought my nose to his, the tips gently touching as he whispered. “You’re gonna be the best little Catholic girl, and I’m gonna be the biggest sinner for you, babe. He, He knows temptation all too well, and he should know that since I’m a man, just a human on the earth he’s crafted with his own fingertips,” His fingertips shifted on my chin to accentuate his point, “I will inevitably sin again. I will repent for the original sin for the rest of my life, but there is more to life than begging for forgiveness over and over again.”

I noticed as the accent he had developed after cumming down my throat slipped away, leaving me to hear the Catholic Preacher again, rather than the needy servant who desired more. I, desired more of that accent, the blissful state he was in when I had my lips wrapped around him, I wanted to see who he’d be with his godly cock pressed into my stomach, that warm feeling of him spilling into me for the first time. That was something Catholics were known for, right? No protection?

“There is so much to life outside the church, Father. I’ve seen the most beautiful things travelling, things you deserve to see too. But, I’ve discovered something that has made me want to begin coming here.” I could feel my breath bounce off of his face and back to mine, our noses still grazing each other. A few stray hairs from his mustache tickled my lips. “I found something to worship.”

“You have, huh?”

“Father, until you show me there is a God, I’m gonna be worshipping you, Each, little, inch of your skin, I wanna taste like communion.”

He pulled away sharply, his chest rising and falling with each hearty breath. “Me, huh? You wanna taste me, worship me like I’m the Holy Father himself? You don’t know what you’re going to do to me...”

“Yes, Father, I do. I want to wrap that rosary around my hands again, and kneel at your feet while I praise you...”

His eyes shifted away, staring at the crucifix hanging on the wall. “ I need you, Y/N... I need you in the ways that are condemned for a man who is married to the church... As the head priest, I have to hold an image for the congregation, to keep them from being led astray. You, you’ve made me break my vows...” His fingers moved to the sides of my jaw, pressing in sharply. “ That is a sin only you can repent for... I’m damned for eternity.”

His tone had changed to something more serious, something unsettling. There was an anger in him that was brewing, yet he held it at bay. I feared more at the control he had over his own emotions than what he was going to do about them. “I’m, I’m sorry. I didn’t want to come here to have you break your vows. I just, I wanted to find an answer to my problems.” His fingers kept pressing into my jaw, his other hand moving now to wrap around my head once more.

“You’ll need to give penance, you wayward babe. You’ll confess at the front of the church, kneeling on the steps of the altar. Only then, can I begin to give you any sort of absolution for what you’ve done to me.” He released his tightened grip on me, swiftly walking to his computer and turning it on. His hearty stride shook the room as I sat in front of the loveseat still, worried for what any of this meant.

“The Lord, he teaches us about not exacting revenge, the he does not need man to have vengeance, to fight eye for an eye.” His computer chimed as he logged in, moving to some program on there. He opened the application, and I watched as the surveillance system for the church was pulled up on the screen.

“What are you talking about?” I asked hurtfully, lost in his ramblings. “Revenge? Because I made you break your vows? I’m sorry, I, I didn’t mean to.”

“He asks us to turn our cheek, to love them with all of our merciful heart,” he continued. “Revenge is motivated by the anger, the pain and fear of man. However, justice is motivation through the heart of His.” The cameras all went black with a few clicks of his mouse. “I want to exact revenge, to break you as you’ve broken me. I’ve learned though, to both love and feat The Holy Father. I need to show you the same love, and fear for me.”

I turned around to fully look at him, trying to understand his preaching still. “Father? I don’t know what you’re trying to say. What do I have to do?”

He shot up from his chair, striding back over to me. “You need to repent for your sins, and be a good girl for the church. You’re going to the altar right now to repent.” He leaned down, grabbing my arm and helping me up. “You’re going to repent for your sins, Y/N, and I’m going to be giving you absolution.” He was gentle with his grasp, but rushing me. I stood up, standing toe-to toe with him. His naked frame loomed over me, his chest heaving with each breath, his throat pumping with each gasp.

“Like this?” My breath fastening. He wanted me to go the altar, no more clothed than the day I was born, to repent for my sins?

“Yes, Now,” He growled, He snarled, his teeth showing as his insatiable eyes ran up and down me. “You’re going to worship The Father, beg him for salvation, beg him to give you what you need.” He reached other and grabbed his crucifix off of the loveseat. He swiftly picked me up, cradling me up to his chest, his sweaty musk mixed with his cologne, completely encompassing me in his holy fury.

He opened the locked door, pacing into the empty hallway. “You remember how to pray?” He asked, his footsteps hitting the ground faster.

“I’m pretty sure I do, Father,” I replied, my heart beating out of my chest. My senses heightened as we moved to the entrance to the sanctuary, the heavy wooden doors were closed.

“Good, because you’re going to be quizzed on it, and I’ll be grading how well you do.” He reached out his arm that held my knees for the handle, gently opening the doors to the darkened sanctuary, where we first had met in the confessional booth no more than an hour or two earlier.

The sanctuary was dark, the only light came pouring in through the stained glass motifs, gently illuminating the pews and altar. There was something so sacred of seeing the place of worship in the darkness, knowing not too many people go to see the Holy Father like this. The colors through the stained glass glazed the floors, the podium, the cross at the back of the altar: it took my breath away. Father Schlatt moved suavely down the pews, his body almost floating with delicacy as he honored the holy space, like he’d done for years prior. He held my body close to him again, his reverence for his place of reverence flowing out of him He stoically walked to the altar, softly whispering prayers.

He gently kneeled at the altar, letting me out of his arms. I moved to stand up, longing for his touch now, again. It felt wonderful being held so close to him, how his warm body wished to protect me, even after what had transpired. I had ruined this man’s vows to God, and yet he was gently with me, through gritted teeth.

“Kneel, right here,” He spoke. He was stern, yet the disappointment I had expected to hear in his voice was gone. “Face the cross, and pray out loud. I want to hear you beg for forgiveness, beg The Father to save you.”

“Yes, Father.” I quivered, kneeling next to him. I pressed my knees into the carpeted step, and moved to clasp my hands in front of myself, picturing how his hands were earlier. I kneeled my head, reciting the prayer. “Our Father, who art in Heaven, Hallowed be Thy Name.” Fuck, after this, the prayer gets blurry. I remember the sound of the locking door, the sound of him gracefully kneeling before me, between my legs..

“Keep going,” He stood up, leaving me alone at the altar. I heard him move behind me.

“Thy kingdom come, thy will be done, as on earth, as in Heaven-“ SMACK. A sharp pain shot across my back.

“On Earth, as in Heaven,” He growled.

“On Earth as in Heaven.” My back grew hotter where he had struck it. “Give us this day, our daily bread, and forgive us.” I closed my eyes tightly, bracing for the sharp pain again. When it didn’t come, I raced to continue through the prayer. “Forgive us, our trespasses-“ SMACK. The searing pain shot through my back again, causing me to shoot out a small cry. I felt the tears welling behind my eyelids.

“You only say ‘Forgive us’, one time. ‘Give us, this daily bread, and forgive us, our daily trespasses.’”

“I-I’m Sorry Father, Forgive us, our daily trespasses.”

“Good girl. Keep. Going.” He loomed behind me, the mere presence of his tall figure, now whipping me, scared me... yet I felt that he was punishing me in a way that excited him. I could only picture him standing tall, cock hard, the tip pressed against the trail I ran my tongue down, I needed more. If I had to put up with the pain of him whipping me, so be it. I needed to see The Father, in all of his glory, in the iridescence of the stained glass, beheld by the cross.

“As we forgive those who trespass against us.” I braced again, waiting for the stinging whip, which didn’t come. “And deliver us from evil, Amen-“ WHACK. A guttural whimper left me as I leaned forward to the next step of the altar step, the now familiar pain searing across my back.

“And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil. You poor, little lamb.” He sternly spoke, his voice deepening. “You forgot the leading into temptation...” I could hear him shift behind me, his body dropping to the floor. “Finish the prayer.”

“And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil... Amen.” I cried, the tears falling down my face now.

“Amen,” His hands moved to the my sides, as he spoke softly and soothingly against my back by the whip marks. He pressed gently kisses into them. “Good girl, you took that well. But, you forgot one thing.”

“What, Father?” I pleaded, the tears slowing down while I continued to kneel into the steps.

“You forgot what is supposed to be in your hands. How did they feel, whipped against your back?” Oh my god, the rosary.

“I completely forgot, Father, I’m sorry...” I moaned out now, the heat in their whip marks still pulsing against my back.

“Oh, you’re never going to forget them again, are you?”

“No, No Father, I won’t.”

“Good,” He grunted, his left hand, still gripping the rosary against me moved down my side, cupping my ass. The beads felt cool against my skin now, while his fingers dug into the soft tissue. “You made me break my vows to The Lord, so in return, as a justice, I need to break you. I’m going to whip you into being a good little Catholic Girl, just for me. You’re going to worship me,” His hand slid up my back to my hip, bringing it around gently to my slit. His other hand moved to my neck, pulling it up against him. My back was pressed to his chest, his rosary laden hand beginning to run its fingers up and down me, grazing my clit with each pass. I softly moaned each time he did, while his head craned down into my neck.

“You said you were going to worship me as if I was the Holy Father himself, didn’t you? Well, you’re going to be worshipping The Father now. You’re going to be using those lips for a lot more than praying.” He sunk his teeth into me, causing me to shudder and a small whimper to leave me.

“aaaaAh! Mmh, Father, yes, Yes Father” I moaned out, my clasped hands moving behind me to hold onto his thighs. I could feel the whipped skin pressed against him, the hot flesh pressed against him was tender and hurt, but it was something I was willing to embrace again, if it meant he’d be pleasing me.

“Good Girl,” He breathed out, his fingers painstakingly slow against me. I grew wetter with each stroke, his fingers finding my clit on his own accord. His middle finger slowly twitched against it as my stomach clenched and my body pulsated. My moans turned pleasurable as he brought me closer to my own orgasm. As my voice began to peak in tone, he slowed down, “Oh, Y/N, I’m not going to make you feel pleasure until I can show you what you do to me. I’m going to show you a world as if it was made just for you, like I crafted it for you with my own hands, as The Holy Father did for those who follow him.” He slid a finger inside of me, the cross on the rosary pressed against my slit as he moved his finger in and out slowly, reveling in the feeling himself.

“Father, p-p-please,” I begged, his finger exploring the inner walls of my pussy. “I need more of you... anything, please.” What the hell was he doing to me, to make me turn into such a slut for him as soon as he made a move?

“Mmph, I don’t know, are you deserving of the salvation?” He asked, his palm pressed the cross against my clit, and yet in a sick, twisted way, I was finding pleasure in it, while his finger worked on getting me wetter with its gentle rhythm, in, out, in, out. “Or should I see that you’re damned? I’m torn, I wanna save ya, but you make salvation seem so, so far out of reach when you beg like that.” Oh Christ, the accent came back.

“Fath, oh god... Father, oohhfff,” I moaned out, pressing back into him, begging for more of his touch. More, of his tantalizing touches, anything for more of him in me.

“Mmph, I think I could save ya, as for myself, maybe not. I’m already damned, so why not go all the way?” He asked, smiling as his tongue worked flicked my ear. “I think I wanna taste ya, ya sweet sinner. You’ve been so good for me, letting me whip you with the rosary, letting me tease ya with it... I’ll be wrapping it around those praying hands again soon enough. Just you wait.” His grip released on my neck, and he placed it on my hip. His other hand pulled out of me, the sensations of his teases leaving me desperate for his touch again. He moved that hand to my hip, as he picked me up with ease. “Turn around, and sit on the floor of the altar, mmkay?”

“Yes, yes Father,” The pounding in my chest echoed into my ears, as I shuffled up the two stairs to the floor of the altar, sitting facing him. I placed my hands on my knees, awaiting his next command.

“Good. Now,” He placed his hands on top of mine on my knees, “We’re just gonna spread these pretty legs apart,” His hands gently pressing into mine, while his body leaned in closer. “I’ve never done this before, but, God, I know I need to taste ya.” He parted my buckled knees apart, his mouth slightly agape as he watched me become exposed. I felt vulnerable, but safe, somehow. “You... oh, look at you,” He whispered, his right hand leaving my knee to run up and down my slit. I could feel the heat in my cheeks rising, my breath falling deeper into my chest as he slowly worked his pointer and middle finger between the folds. I threw my head back, the fire in his touch already being so hard to handle. Moans left my lips, and my hands fled my knees to the altar floor, desperately trying to hold myself up while he explored.

His left hand still pressed my knee to open, pressing it almost to the floor, antsy to keep my legs open while he worked up his own courage to dig in. His right hand moved up to his mouth, and I watched at this once holy man licked his fingers clean of the film I left on his fingertips. “Oooh, mmph, The Lord made ya so, so delicious. I need more, babe.”

Before I had a chance to catch my breath, he pressed his face into my pussy, his nose resting right above it. He began licking my folds, his right hand immediately moving to hold my right down as I tried to bring it up against his face, bucking from the sensations. I threw myself onto the floor of the altar, lost in the sensations of The Father’s Holy Tongue.

“Oh Fuck!” I exclaimed, all filter I had leaving as his tongue worked with my hips, now rocking against his face.

He pulled away, smiling deviously as he licked his lips. I watched as he caught his breath, his hands still pinning me to the floor. “I forgot, I’m sorry, I was too excited to taste you, Babe, I should’ve realized I’d be drinking you up,” He spoke sweetly, moving to bow his head, speaking just above a whisper. “Bless me, Lord, for these, Thy gifts, which we are about to receive from Thy Bounty. Through you, Christ our Lord, Amen.” He snarled after finishing his prayer, the devious smile returning as his head raised, and moved back into me. I couldn’t help but whimper, his face felt so good pressed up against my slit, his tongue working to bring me to an orgasm so easily. I brought my left hand up to his hair, and pulled his head up softly. “..uhff fuck... there Baby, right there,” I moaned out, guiding his tongue to my clit. His eyes shot up to meet mine, glazed over with unbelievable pleasure. He continued to lick ferociously at my clit, and lifted his right hand from my leg, bringing it down to his mouth, and taking a quick lick across his thumb as he rubbed me right below where his tongue worked wonders.

His tongue worked tirelessly against me, bringing me closer to an orgasm, when his left hand moved off of my leg, and he moved to down to his cock, surely throbbing with pleasure by now. He groaned as he stroked himself with his left hand, his right hand and tongue focused on making me squirm. Slews of moans, pleas, and whimpers escaped me. “Fath-mmm, Fath-er... pl...please... more... mmm, my God..., so, so fucking good...” For having no experience with any sort of intimacy, Father Schlatt must have brought in his expertise from his priesthood to bring me unholy pleasure. Was it from flipping through pages of the scripture that he learned to move his fingers so precisely? Or was it from daubing Holy Water on church-goers how he learned to press just the right amount of pressure to my flesh? I tried to think as I moaned out words, sounds, anything to keep me from reaching an orgasm just yet.

I brought my thighs up to the side of his face, feeling his soft sideburns rub against my tender thighs. They rubbed softly with each of his licks. They felt almost ticklish against my skin, but I couldn’t help but crave more of their feeling against my skin while he stoked his tongue, but his pointer finger gently moved against the length of my pussy his thumb was once grazing, as he wetted his pointer finger, and slid it into me, causing me to gasp in the midst of my moans. “mmmh oh... aH! Schatt!” Oh Fuck!” I cried out, my hips sinking down into his hand.

He pulled away softly from his ministrations against me to speak out. “You taste so, so good, I don’t wanna believe that The Lord has been keeping this from me... Unless he was just waiting to bring ya to me... Maybe he made you just for me... you feel so, so perfect on my tongue, on my fingers, toots.” Toots? Okay, that’s a new one, but I... I can’t focus on that now... not with how he’s finger fucking me. “Maybe he made you just to ruin me...” He coaxed, his finger now curling inside in a tauntingly sensual way. I breathed out a sharp wail, my body burning wildly for how he teased me, how much I needed his teachings. In an instant, he learned forward, his twitching cock now grazing at my entrance, where his finger slid out. His rosary laden hand intertwined with my hand on the floor, pinning it above my head. His hips slowly moved himself against my pussy, the slow, teasing stroked causing whimpers and guttural moans alike to leave both of us.

“Father... Are you sure?” I asked. my hips however, moving against him, feeling how hot, how ready he was to fuck me.

“I, I need to.. I need to make you mine, in the eyes of The Lord.” His hips moved against mine as well. The friction was unbearable, it was too perfect to pass up the opportunity. Father Schlatt leaned down next to my ear, slowing his rhythm. “Babe, I need to pray, and I need you to pray with me. You’re not gonna know the words, but close your eyes, and keep those pretty little moans quiet for a moment, ‘kay?”

“Mhmm,” I murmured, squeezing my eyes shut and gripping his hand tighter.

“Hail Mary Full of Grace, The Lord is with Thee.” His breath grew hotter against my skin. “Blessed art thou among women, and blessed is the fruit of the womb, Jesus.” His tongue grazed my earlobe, he gently nibbled on it. His hand that stroked his cock stopped, instead it began pressing the tip to my now slick entrance. “Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners, in the hour of our death. Amen,” He finished the prayer quietly, taking a second to listen to my breaths.

“Amen,” I spoke gently, opening my eyes to meet his. His mouth was still open from his prayer, his head gently nodding at his subconscious request. I nodded back, my lips parted too from my final “Amen.”

He pressed his hips forward, the tip of his cock paving the way for the rest of his shaft to enter me. He was slow, merciful, yet he shot daggers through my eyes, while his fingers tightened around the ones he laced them with, pressing the beads into my hand. All breath escaped my chest as I felt him penetrate me, being gentle as to not overwhelm himself. I whimpered, attempting to savor the gentle movements. Every nerve ending was on fire, begging for his length to keep pushing, to keep moving, to keep the friction going. He pulled his cock mostly out, leaving just the tip in, and slowly worked himself back in, pressing farther in this time. He kept this slow rhythmic torture up until he found a pace where he could control himself.

With each thrust, I couldn’t help but whimper, the feeling of him stretching me was so, so fucking good. His body was ragged; sweat poured down him as he refrained from racing, savoring each sinful moment. “You, you feel so good,” He groaned “too, too good. God I’m gonna, I’m gonna... if I go any faster,” His hand had moved to my hip, gently guiding me back to his with each of his pulsing thrusts.

“F-Father, you, you feel so good, too,” I whimpered, taking each of his thrusts, feeling his cock deep in my belly.

He continued his painstakingly slow pace, driving me crazy as his he focused his energy into keeping his mind busy. “Babe... you.. oh, oh God..” he cried out, his hand gripping deeper into my thigh, almost tearing through my flesh as his fingernail dug in deeper. “I need... more... of you...” He pleaded, his thrusts still slow, yet slamming into my hips eagerly.

His thrusts into me were calculated, his own body pressing his need further into me as I craved every inch of him. “Mmm, Baby, you feel so fucking good in me,” I cried through gritted teeth. My hand embraced the press of the rosary beads into it, the feel of him learning how to make love, I felt high on his lust, and still grounded by his religion. I looked up at him to see his once pomaded hair was strewn, stringy with sweat, and was moving into his eyes, bouncing with his rhythm. He gazed into me, his mouth parted, as he crashed into my lips for a searing kiss. Our tongues mingled frantically as his pace continued slowly, steadily.

I moved our hands from above our heads while we tangled tongued, bringing his rosary laden hand to my clit, and pressing his fingers into it, mimicking the motions I would use to please myself. I couldn’t help but realize, the he was such a fast learner, pressing his thumb against my clit and teasing it fast while his thrusts moved faster. “Baby, fu-uck! You’re gonna make me cum on you,” I pleaded, torrential wave of pleasure flowing through me with each flick from his thumb.

His hips slammed into mine, as I reached my own orgasm on his cock, clenching down on him, and feeling everything on a high. His cock felt hot in me, my belly warm, my clit tender and spent, and my legs were shaking. I couldn’t focus on anything past his head being thrown back, and the feeling of hips pressed against my inner thighs. His guttural moans and the sight of him were through tunnel vision as my mind grew fuzzy. Did he say ‘pussy’? Wait, did he cum in me? Oh... well... fuck... fuck it felt... good...

He looked at me as he continued to hasten his pace, his breaths growing more erratic. His eyes shot right through me, his gaze darkened and fully corrupted. “God, your pussy was made just for me... He made it just for me to ruin myself- in- Mmmhh,” He grunted, I couldn’t tell anymore what was throbbing with each stroke, I could only focus on the clenched muscles in my abdomen, on yhe brink of an orgasm like no other I had felt before. “I’m gonna ruin you too,” he blurted out, looking down at his thumb, steadily torturing me, and pulled his thumb away for just long enough for himself to spit on my clit, and race to work his spit in while his cock swelled. His body tensed while his moans grew audibly. “I-mmh-aah-aaahh,” He moaned out, practically yelling by the end of it.

His fingers held onto my hips as he slowly pulled his spent cock out of me, his entire body convulsing in waves as his tip entered the cooler air again. “Oh God... oh Christ, anyone... oh whoever is up there,” he moaned, his words lingering through the drawls escaping him. He fell forwards onto the altar floor next to me, recovering from him pleasuring me too. “Thank you,” He moaned out. All I could do is smile, looking at the heap he fell into next to me. The gentle sunlight refracted off of the cathedral glass to glaze over him with soft hues of blues, reds and greens. We laid there for what seemed like an eternity, catching our breaths, the thought of our damnation never once crossing our pleasured minds.

[zestyhades]

“So you’ve come to confess? How long since your last confession?”

“Lustful urges? God always gives us trials of temptations my child. These urges are but God’s way of testing you”

“Thoughts of one of the father’s at the church? Do tell me more my child. You think of them doing what to you?”

“I see… the work of those against that is all good and holy surely have a dramatic hold on you for you to have these perverse thoughts… come out of the booth and see my eye to eye my child…”

“Ah look at you. The devil surely has a hold on you look. Look at those legs quivering and the lustful thoughts behind your eyes… I see you falling more and more into these temptations… we must act quickly”

“Stripping you and having you on the alter is necessary I’m afraid. These practices are unorthodox, but they are necessary to cleanse you before the almighty lord. Now… take the girth and length of a holy messenger of God and let’s purge you of these feelings”

“Shhh it’s okay my child. You’re doing well. I can feel how hard the devil has a hold of you. The feeling of you dripping out of your cunt is sure proof that the methods are working”

“I know it’s a lot to take, but if you wish to stay a child of the church, you must endure. Hold on for just a little longer. The seed of a priest is the only thing that can purge you now. You must submit to me my child”

[stjohnstarling]

Wanna' come back to my place? I was thinking you might pierce my heart and spill its blood in a frenzy of barbarous delight.

Father Ardelian has been summoned to a distant, secluded island to perform an exorcism. What will happen when he begins to suspect his host — the mysterious, nocturnal lord of the manor — of wanting him for another reason entirely? Will the piously celibate priest be able to resist the monster’s diabolically seductive charms?

What Manner of Man is a queer gothic romance novel about a priest and a vampire, inspired by Dracula Daily.

Get the novel here or DRM-free on Itch.io

Or read it for free!

[beastlyartblog]

do you think catholic priests are irresistible to vampires? virgins, covered in crucifixes (inherent allure of the forbidden,) access to their throats limited by those sexy little collars, etc.

buy What Manner of Man on Amazon or Itchio | read it for free

[storebrandprozac]

ooohhh priest kink where you’re unknowingly corrupting him. he just can’t stop himself from staring at you, at all the places on your body where your clothes fit a just little too snug. listening to you in the confessional and desperately trying to ignore the feeling in his gut and the tent in his pants. your voice is just so pretty, he wonders what you sound like when it’s late at night and you’re alone in your bed.

maybe you’re not religious, maybe you only sometimes show up on sundays. it’ll feel like a rarity to him. like you’re an angel blessing him with your presence. he constantly extends every conversation so you won’t leave. and you’re completely unaware of the effect you have on him, only thinking about how the priest at the local church is extremely friendly every time you make a visit.

[ihateitherexx]

"Worship your God"

"There we go, kneel before me. You're so good at it."

"Go on, show me how devoted you are"

"Sinner"

"You're my most faithful, aren't you angel?"

[doggyfaggot]

[benzendrine-nosebleed]

"A Prayer On His Lips, A Hail Mary in His Hips" (Formerly 'Forgive Me, Father.')PART 2!

Friends!! Buddies! Fellow Parasocial Schluts! I'm so happy to be here and sharing what's become a passion project of sorts. I'll end up using that photo of Priest Schlatt later when I release everything and make a masterlist of all of the parts (I have up to this point written, and I work a blue collar job full time so updates might be slow but I PROMISE I'M HERE FOR IT) I love you all!

Totally not PG, and it's 4300 words. Enjoy <3

He lurched forward pressing a kiss to my lips. His heavy hands supported his bodyweight on my thighs. I sharply gasped, barely registering what Father Schlatt was doing. He pulled away after a moment, I shot my eyes open to see him kneeling in front of me, the coffee table having been pushed away from us, his hands gripping into my thighs through my pants.

“Man, has been damned for eternity through the actions of man, and we have spent hundreds of years... repenting for our sins.” His eyes undressed me, focusing on my hands, still wrapped with his crucifix. He quivered as he looked back up at me.

“I am a man of God, but I’ll be damned for thinking about you even if you never come back here. I will repent for my sins, but I need you. I need you in the most, unholy ways, Y/N. Christ led you here, to tempt me, to damn me, to make me see there is more than just to serve him.” He leaned in again, pressing his lips to mine, desperate to feel myself against him. I leaned into him, pressing my lips to his, his body pressing more and more into mine as our mouths danced together, the passion flowing between us hotter, and heavier. He shifted upwards, moving his hands to my waist as he pushed me into the back of the loveseat, him standing up and pressing his knee between my legs as he straddled himself on top of me on the loveseat.

His cassock was caught between his legs, pressing mine down to the loveseat, his ass gently resting on my knees. He looked down at my hands, still gently wrapped with his rosary. “Your hands, they look so good, wrapped with the rosary...” His hands gripped mine. “I need you to keep your hands like this... bound with the beads. We can repent for our sins together once I’m done with you.”

“Mmhmm,” I softly moaned out, my body writhing with pleasure just from his being pressed to mine. Throb, throb, throb. “Father... you’re not... you’re not allowed to do this...” I spoke, almost all sense of reason leaving me.

“I’m not, Y/N... but I need you to be the exception... You’re worth the damnation I’ll face for the rest of eternity. God help me...” He rammed his mouth to mine again, his tongue pressing against my lips, parting them as he explored my mouth. His hands moved from mine, and began wandering my body. His body slowly began to rock back and forth, his hips gently grazing against my legs. His fingers traced gently over my waist, the tips of them grazing the skin between my sweater and the hem of my pants. A soft moan left his lips as his fingers moved gently, savoring each little bit.

“Your skin, oh it’s, it’s heavenly... so soft...” He slowly worked his way up to my stomach, whimpers and moans leaving him faster. “Y/N... I’ve never needed something so much... The Lord deprived me of this, of you...” His mouth moved faster against mine. His hips moved faster, depraved of friction of any sort outside of his slacks below his cassock. I moaned into his mouth, eager to feel him unraveling how I was, lost in the lust.

I pulled away enough to breathe out a slew of words. “Father...” The term began rolling off my tongue, and felt more natural than it did earlier, “Aren’t there other people here?” I looked at the door, his face never leaving mine, but his hands left my waist to pull his glasses off, and began unbuttoning his garb.

“They all left,” He spoke assuredly, his fingers moving faster than his brain. He pulled his arms from the sleeves, and pushed off of me to stand up, continuing to unbutton. “It’s just us here, in the house of worship... He pulled the garb off, leaving him in a black button down, black slacks, and the clerical collar. He knelt in front of me again, his eyes pleading for more sin.

“Are you sure, you need this? Need me?” I asked, huffing myself as my body was begging to be toyed with more, my panties were beginning to feel wet.

“Yes. I need you, I’ve never needed anything more than you, God, you look so good... He had to have made you just for me.” He moved in to kiss me again, his mouth rough and seeking more, and more. His hands moved right back to my waist, slowly pulling the sweater up to expose my stomach. He pulled away to look at me, his gaze passionate and hungry. His head dove to my stomach, pressing wet, sloppy kisses on it. He ran his tongue up and down it, savoring every inch. I shuffled, my body pounding with pleasure as his hands moved to hold up the sweater while his mouth explored. I moved my bound hands over and behind my head, his hands moving higher and higher as they grazed the strap of my bra. “Mmmp-ohhh...” His moans echoed, as his hands froze in place at my bra. I smiled watching him pause, looking up at me with his hungry, yet pleading eyes.

“You, you can keep going,” I assured him, my body begging for him to keep running his fingers over me, to keep planting kisses, to keep straddling me. “I’m not going to stop you, Father.”

“I, nngh, I know that once I do, I don’t know if I’d ever be able to stop.” His breath hastened as his hands lightly flicked at the elastic band. I shot him a look of pleasure, the sheer feeling of his hands so close to crossing the first of many, many boundaries exciting me beyond reason.

“I’ll stop you if you get carried away,” I blurted out, knowing damn well I’d never stop him from his desires. I harbored them too.

His hands slowly moved up over my tits, over the bra. A guttural moan left him, as he shook. “Oh... oh God...” He continued to move his hands in slow circles around them. “They’re... oh they’re so..” He trailed off, lost in the feeling. His hands began to find a slow rhythm in teasing my tits, gently grazing over my nipples, which had pressed small peaks into the fabric. His pointer fingers found them, slowly teasing them more as I bubbled with sweet laughter and hot moans. His eyes bounced between my chest and my eyes, as I stared down at his face, lost in the feeling of pleasure.

“Y/N...”

“Yes, Father Schlatt?” Fuck, I loved using his name.

“Can, can I take your sweater off?”

“Yes you may.” I brought my hands down from over my head, the rosary still holding them together. “You might need to unwrap this to get it fully off.”

“Oh, yes... but they’re going back on after I take everything off... I need to see you praying properly, with your hands bound, and your lips singing praise...”

“Yes, yes Father.”

He began to unravel the rosary from my hands, his slightly shaking with nervousness. I could tell he had never been this far before, having devoted his entire life to Christ... and I was going to be the one to corrupt this man, to praise him as if he was God. He pulled it away, gently setting it on the seat next to me, his hands sliding down my chest to my waist to grab the hem of the sweater again. His shaky hands slowly pulled the sweater up, as he marveled. I slowed my breathing, trying to calm myself and he marveled at the newly exposed skin. He lifted it past my bra, and his eyes lit up. He paused again, taking a breath or two before he continued to work the sweater over my shoulders and over my head. I threw my head back to help, and began pulling my arms out of the sleeves. He gently set the sweater as it finished sliding off of me, and set it on the seat, taking care of it. His eyes fixated on my chest, and I stared at his face, almost frozen with shock.

I reached out to his hands again, taking one in each of mine, and put them back on my breasts. Another guttural moan echoed out of him, followed with a string of murmurs. I left his hands there as they began working small circles again, and unclasped my bra, letting the straps fall on his hands, not being the only things holding the barrier between our flesh. He slowly lowered his hands, the bra slipping off and exposing me. My nipples hardened with the cool air of the room, and goosebumps began to form on my skin. Were they from excitement, the cold, who in the hell cares anymore? He moved one of his hands to set the bra on top of my sweater, his other hand moving to cradle me.

“You’re... ohhhff...” He moaned out softly, his other hand moving back to cup my other breast delicately. His breath quickened as he began kneading them softly. “God help me...” He quietly murmured, his eyes shifting from my chest to meeting mine, my lips slightly parted and my head gently nodding. “Why... why...” He moaned out.

“Why what, Father?” I asked, the flames of desire engulfing my body.

“Why did The Lord give us pleasure, if he never wanted us to use it? Why would he have made such perfect people, if we never could fulfil our desires?” He leaned up, moving his mouth to whisper between my breasts. His sideburns gently brushed against them as he planted kisses into my sternum. “Why would have made me one of his devout followers... *kiss* to have to devote myself to the bride of Christ, to follow in his footsteps... *kiss* when the temptation they talk about... *kiss* is heavenly... *kiss*.”

His kisses worked their way up my chest, working to my collarbone. I slipped a hand of mine into his pomaded hair, my fingernails gently scratching his scalp. I could smell the sweet cologne of the pomade, the gentle wafts of cologne on his clerical collar, and it only brought me deeper into his allure, as a man of God. My other hand moved to hold his waist, gently resting on his belt.

“I, I don’t know Father...” I moaned out, a small whimper escaping me as he gently sunk his teeth into my flesh. “I don’t see why it’s wrong... we’re here with these feelings... these urges...”

“Urges...” he repeated, softly licking his bite mark. “I’ve never felt an urge like this... where I can only think of you, where I want to forget everything I’ve ever been taught, and give into you...”

“Father-“

“It’s so heavenly to hear you call me Father... please... please keep doing it.”

“Father,” I pleaded, “Please... more.” My fingers caught his belt, gently tugging on it.

He bit down again, harder this time. His hands moved to my neck, pulling it to expose the fragile skin. He bit again, harder, leaving marks. His moans had turned to feral growls, his body wound like a spring, ready to completely unravel at any moment. I arched into him, pressing myself against his chest. His hands moved quickly from my neck to his shirt, removing the clerical collar and tossing it aside onto the pile of clothes forming on he loveseat. He began working on the buttons of his shirt, while I pulled away to watch more, and more of him become exposed. I moved to hold his shirt as he continued to fumble, his eager mind working faster than his hands. Finally he untucked his shirt, exposing his chest, he was built like a wall. He was pale, broad, but had a slight pudge that hung over his slacks, accentuated with a trail of fuzz leaving from his chest and continued past his pants. I smiled, in awe at how he looked like this. Oh, his body looked delicious. I wanted to taste him, feel him, devour him whole.

My hands moved to his body again, exploring his newly exposed skin, He was soft, but tense with desire.

“Sit up,” he commanded, a newfound possessive tone coming from him.

“Yes, Father,” the worlds flowing from my lips without a second thought. I stood up, my body met with his. His hands grabbed my hips as he spun around to sit on the loveseat, pulling myself on top of his lap.

“Good,” He moaned, he pulled my hips into his waist, slowly rocking them on top of his tented pants. I wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling myself into his body, radiating heat like a furnace now. “He had to have made you just for me, to teach you the gospel, to make you sing it from your pretty lips,” His lips crashed into mine again, his tongue begging for entry. I let him in, his tongue seeking refuge with mine. His hands worked faster to rub my hips against him, both of us feeling desperate for more friction.

He pulled away, his eyes shooting daggers through me. “God... He.. He brought you here to ruin me... or he made me to ruin you. I don’t know anymore, but, God... He... knew what he was doing.” One of his hands left my waist, working up to my lips, his thumb gently pulling my lower lip down. “He brought you here so I could teach you about Him... I can’t believe you’ve never read the book, or confessed before me...” His thumb slipped into my mouth. I wrapped my lips around him, gently sucking and flicking my tongue against his finger, each tactile raise of his fingerprint sent sparks through him, and escaped in feral grunts.

“You’ve never had communion... you’ve never had someone deliver Holy Flesh between those pretty lips... Never drank the blood of the one who died to save us...” His other hand slowed his maneuvering on my hips, focusing on pressing them down onto his lap as he softly cried out. “I need to be the one to deliver you from evil... you poor, poor, wayward babe.”

My hand freed itself to move towards his belt buckle, grazing his hardened cock through the fabric. His moans turned pleasurable, his possessive growls fading away. I fumbled slowly with his belt, taking time to rub my palm against the head, strained below the hot, damp pants. His hips pushed himself more into my palm, and after a moment, I had undone the buckle, and worked on the button of his pants. His moans turned into long drawls, with small prayers thrown in gently.

“Please, babe. Please,” He pleaded, his cock twitching with anticipation just below the zipper. I nodded slowly, still teasing his thumb with my mouth. I was salivating at the mere thought of throat fucking him. My fingers worked the zipper of his slacks, gently easing it down as he writhed with each touch, exposing his boxers. I slowly ran my hand along the tented fabric, grabbing him and gently squeezing him. His head craned backwards while a slew of huffs escaped him. “My God... I am sorry, for my sins with all of my heart...” He trailed off, moans overtaking the words of his prayer. I continued moving my hand along his cock while his boxers continued to grow wetter with precum. His hips jerked as a sign to stroke his faster, his hand on my hip guiding mine to rock against my hand, now fully enwrapped around his boxer laden shaft.

“Can I?” I asked softly, tugging at the thin veil left between us.

“Please... please Y/N. I need you to...” Father Schlatt moaned out, his jaw tensed, exposing the veins in his neck. I smiled sweetly, noticing his eyes were closed. I slowly worked his cock through the fly of the boxers, observing just how much this man of God had. He was huge, his cock was tall and broad, just like him, and leaned a little to left. Fuck, it was perfect. But, then again, he could’ve had a chode and I would’ve been begging to please him. My fingers gently wrapped around him, making gentle strokes up, and down.

“Yes Sir,” I moaned out, pressing my hand against my pussy, letting the edge of my hand rub against my clit while I continued stroking him.

“It’s Father,” He moaned out, his head shooting sharply to meet mine. He pressed his forehead against mine as he continued to press his cock into my closed hand. “You’ll call me Father...” His hand that was in my mouth slipped away to my waist, working on unclasping them.

“Yes, Father. Forgive me,” I pleaded, his hand unclasping my pants with ease and pressing down the zipper with a expertise sense. His hand moved below the zipper to my panties, soaked from grinding against my own hand, and the intensity of his desire. His inexperienced fingers felt around slowly while his breathing hastened. He explored every inch of the fabric between his fingers and myself, his words turning into moans again.

“God have mercy...” He whispered, his eyes meeting mine as his finger gently worked at the hem. One of his fingers worked itself underneath the fabric of my panties, exploring cautiously. “I... I don’t know if I could- Oh...ghhmmm,” He moaned out as I fastened my pace stroking him. I moaned out too, the feeling of his fingers beginning to explore me felt so good, so wonderful... so taboo. “Slow down-“ He choked out, a guttural moan leaving him as the tension filled the air. “I- I- I don’t want to finish, not yet.” He dug his fingernails into my hip, stopping me in place, yet only enhancing my sensitivity to each graze of his body against mine. “I‘ve never...” his voice grew quiet.

“You’ve never, what, Father?” I asked, realizing how devoted he was to the church, how much I was going to ruin him.

“I’ve never had anyone, touch me like you do, praise me like your fingers are, I- I don’t want to finish when you’ve only used your hand.”

I stopped stroking him, and rested my hand at the base of his shaft. His fingers moved back to the outside of my panties, but still working slow passes between the lips. He turned his face in embarrassment. “I rarely even touch myself, it’s frowned upon for me to do so,” He spoke softly. “I don’t want to stop though, I’ve already sinned... and I need more of you.”

I tilted his head to face mine again, meeting his gaze. “We can take it easy, if you reach a point where you’re uncomfortable, or can’t bring yourself to something, we’ll stop. Okay?” My thumb stroked his cheek, the long grazes catching the hairs of his sideburns as a smile formed on his face.

“Okay,” He murmured, his fingers slowly returning to their gentle pace between my legs.

“May I get off of your lap, Father?”

“Yes, yes you may.” His fingers retreated from my panties, and his other hand on my hip moved off of myself, and moved to prop himself up on the couch. I shifted off of his lap, and stood up, eyes eyes meeting as I slid my pants off, leaving myself just in the panties he was teasing me though. I kicked them to the side, and gracefully kneeled between his legs. I moved my hands to his hips, moving to pull his black slacks off of his hips. His hands moved to help, shimmying them down to his ankles. He fumbled, removing his shoes, and slid the pants off of his ankles. I met his gaze once more, lost between continuing, and not knowing what to do next.

I took his lost look as the initiative to make the next moves, to bring him heaven in a form he’d never experienced. I worked at the hem of his boxers too, working his cock back through the opening, and pulling them down to his ankles. His feet kicked them off, and he spread his legs open wide enough for me to sit between his legs. I pressed myself at the edge of the loveseat, his hands having now moved behind his head. He eagerly watched as I ran my fingers up his legs, over his knees, and pressed into his hips. I pushed into him as I brought my chest up to his thighs, finding the best height to kneel at while I pleased him. I moved my head down to his shaft, meeting his gaze as I parted my lips. I ran my tongue along his length and his head fell backwards once more, his mouth moving a hundred miles an hour with prayers and moans alike.

“Y/N- oh, Jesus...” He cried out.

“Father Schlatt,” I giggled, running my tongue along him again and running my tongue around the tip ever so gently. I pressed my lips against him, and began to suck, softly pulling him out while there was still suction. “You taste so good...” I wrapped my lips around him again, gently taking his length in painstakingly slow passes. I didn’t want him to cum just yet...

“Babe,” He panted, “Praise me, more, with those pretty little lips, and that tongue... that devilishly, delectable tongue. Please..”

I gazed up at him again, gently nodding while I still held him in my mouth. “Mmhmm,” I hummed out, even the slight vibrations from my throat sending waves of pleasure through him. I brought a hand to the base of his shaft, gently stroking the remainder of his cock that I hadn’t throated... yet. I moved my lips down his length again, with each time I raised my head, I focused my tongue on his tip, gently flicking the frenulum. As I gazed down, focusing on his his body quivered, his stomach tensing and his hips flexing, he shifted, his hands moving from behind his head to one gripping his thigh to support himself, and his other hand moving to the side of my head. His long fingers ran through my hair, stopping once his palm reached my ear. His fingernails dug into the back of my scalp with each throating of his cock. He groaned, small whimpers leaving his lips while he tossed his head back again, closing his eyes. I continued my ministrations methodically, enjoying his squirming and curses of the Lord’s name in pure, utter vain.

I moved my hand from the shaft of his cock, and placed it on his hip where his hand was, harshly holding his hand while I relaxed my throat. I gently worked myself down his length, his thick cock stretching my throat out while I gagged. I moved up, and tried again.

“Oh Christ...” He breathed out with a new accent. his hand tightening in my hair. He held his grip steadfast, as I continued pressing him down my throat. A slew of guttural moans and small, huffed laughs, left him as his hips involuntarily bucked into my mouth, shoving the rest of him down my mouth. Fuck, there was so much of him... was it too much? No... Hell No... My lips hit the base of his shaft, and he held me there while his back arched, his cock losing his load deep in my throat. He cried out, his hand panting turning to deep growls while his hand held tufts of my hair between his fingers. After a moment, his hand released me. I came back up, gagging, coughing, and trying to swallow his cum.

His body shifted, his hips still ever-gently-bucking. He panted out, “I’m sorry, I-I didn’t mean to- you okay?” He opened his eyes, staring down at me sorrowfully as he continued to catch his breath. He brought his hand back to my cheek, bringing his thumb to gently caress the side of my face.

I took a deep breath, feeling the tears on my cheeks for the first time. “I’m okay, I wasn’t expecting you to finish then,” I chuckled softly. “I liked it though... I love having you shoved down my throat. Father.” I wiped my cheeks, feeling some of my his cum on them. I caught his gaze as I licked my hand of his release, and let my eyes take in his disheveled state.

Sweat beaded on his forehead while his pomaded hair flopped down, curling to its natural state. He huffed out a laugh, “I loved it too, babe. God, you’re just a, a-a-uh blessing, you’re truly a godsend.” His voice became more casual, flooded with a New York accent that wasn’t wholly present before. “I swear, I’ve got Heaven ringin’ in my ears.”

“Well, thank you, I was hoping you loved it as much as I did.” His eyes focused on mine as his shoulders fell, and he leaned forward, pressing his forearms into his thighs. He leaned down to the top of my head, and pressed a kiss to the top of it. I closed my eyes as he did so, blissed out. “You know, I don’t know if I believe in God, but I know I need to believe in you... I need you to save me, or to damn me. I, I just need you Father.”

“Mmmh, Y/N, He’s real, I can tell you that much, but if you need another reason to keep coming into the house of worship, I’ll be here, repenting for the rest of time for how sinful you’ve made me. But Damn, I’d do it again, you babe. I’d love to keep showing you the way, you lost little lamb.”

[dream-in-seoul]

As long as I can remember I was obsessed with the idea of religious sex. Being fucked on an altar as an offering to a God. Being a high priestess, getting her pussy eaten to symbolise devotion to ancient gods. Praying naked, but with a veil over my hair. Getting wet in church.

[kissesandarsenic]

It's a Sunday, which means I'm lying in bed thinking about giving a priest a hand job in a confessional booth while he stutters out all his sinful thoughts to me instead.

[bloodibambiidoll]

† Pray To Me †

♱ Kinktober Day 1 ⟢ Rafe Cameron ⟢ Priest/Corruption ♱

Warnings: Sacrilegion all over the place, nun!reader, improper use of a crucifix and rosary, face fucking, spanking, cum licking, unprotected sex, choking, a lil bit of blood, biting, spit kink, corruption 18+MNDI

Rafe was damn near possessed by you. Ever since you arrived at the covent you were all he could think about and watching you take your vows only made him want you more. You weren’t like the other nuns who surrounded him. They were either all doe eyed virgins who followed his word as if he were god himself or elderly women who haven’t been touched in so long they got flustered every time he licked his lips or smirked at them. All of them wanted to fuck him and several of them have. Rafe knows he’s a shit priest, probably even a shit person. If the sick satisfaction he feels from making a woman who vowed herself to god and only god kneel before him with his cock down her throat is anything to go by. Every single woman, and even some men in this church throw themselves at Rafe’s feet, all except you.

No matter how hard he tries to get you to warm up to him or even just smile and talk to him in any semblance of a friendly tone his efforts are fruitless. You were always glaring at him when he spoke with this look in your eyes like you couldn’t wait for him to shut the fuck up. You weren’t ever straight up rude because that would be inappropriate but your voice was always monotone and you never gave him more than one or two word responses. And Rafe knows for a fact that’s not just how you are because he’s seen you laughing with the other nuns and you give the other priests friendly smiles. It was only him you treated this way and it was about damn time he found out why.

You never took confessional with Rafe because you specifically requested that he never be the one on the other side of that wall but he knows for a fact you always go on Monday nights. Almost like you’re starting the week with washing yourself of your sins.

He has no idea what those sins are though. You showed up a few months ago and didn’t say much about your past, just that your mother’s dying wish was that you follow in her footsteps and take your vows. He has no idea who you were before that. He doesn’t even know what your hair looks like aside from the tiniest strand that slipped out of your coif once. If he hadn’t honed it on it seconds before you tucked it away he still wouldn’t even know what color it was. So he decides to take matters into his own hands and give Father Daniels the evening off. Maybe you’ll even say something about why you hate him so much. Either way he can’t wait to learn literally anything about you, anything he could use in his favor.

You feel like you are going insane. You have this itch that you feel like you’ll never scratch. And that itches name is Father Rafe Cameron. You came here after your mother’s death fully prepared to give up all your worldly possessions, swear off men, and follow whatever path god had laid out for you. You weren’t a virgin by any means. The life you lived before this was filled with sex, drugs and chaos. But as your poor mother who always tried her best despite the fact that you never saw eye to eye lay dying she begged you to take your vows. Just like she did after you were born, after all your so-called father put her through. You rejected this notion your entire life. You dyed your hair and got tattoos in your friends living rooms. Screamed at your mom every Sunday when she tried to get you to go to church with her. You left as soon as you were eighteen and hardly ever visited. But something about the way she seemed so at peace, so happy to go and be with her god, and the love in her eyes as the light left them had you changing your mind. You don’t agree with a lot of the bullshit the church spews but you’re still trying your best to follow your vows without also losing your morals and sense of self entirely but this man is making it damn near impossible.

Rafe is for lack of better words, infuriatingly gorgeous. His dirty blonde hair is always slicked back to perfection, showing off his striking blue eyes and beautifully refined bone structure. His large frame filled out the black slacks and button up shirt he wore deliciously, his Roman collar hugging his throat. The way his big hands gripped the Bible while he read scripture and each time he licked the tips of his fingers before turning the page you had to clench your thighs. The way that he walked around like he was god himself, flirting with everyone in sight while looking down at them as if he could read their impure thoughts about him. It all was just leading you further and further down the path of sin.

Rafe had every single person in the covent wrapped around his finger. But it wasn’t out of respect, no. They either feared him or wanted him. You’ve heard through the grapevine that several of your sisters have indulged in the sins of the flesh due to him and you can’t say you blame them. But you don’t want to just indulge in him, you want to drown in him utterly and completely. Devote your blood and your life to him. And you know he wants you too. He’s basically told you that he would burn this entire church down for you. Fulfilling your mom’s dying wish becomes harder everyday. So each Monday you confess your blasphemous thoughts to Father Daniels. You’re sure he’s either judging you, turned on or both but he never says more than a few words aside from a grunt of acknowledgement here and there. That’s about as unbiased as you’re going to get. You sigh to yourself as you adjust your veil on your head and open the confessional door.

Rafe was practically vibrating with lust as he sat opposite of you in the confessional booth. He caught the slightest glimpse of you as you entered but he pressed his back against the wall and hid his face in the shadows to ensure you didn’t see him. Not yet at least. He intends to make himself known when the time is right.

“Forgive me father for I have sinned. It's been one week since my last confessional.” Your sweet voice fills the wooden box confining the two of you and vibrates through Rafe’s soul. Lucky for him he’s been in this booth with Father Daniels enough to know the man hardly speaks so he just gives you a grunt of acknowledgement, encouraging you to go on. “Everyday I swear it gets harder to not commit the sins of the flesh. No matter what I do to push down these impure thoughts, or run away from them, they continue to eat my insides.”

Rafe feels his cock stir in his pants at your words. Are you talking about him? Do you have an ex from before you came here? If that was the case, that wouldn’t do. He hums low in his throat and you take that as a sign to go on.

“It’s like he’s everywhere I look, father.” You sigh deeply and Rafe can hear the slight thud of your head hitting the wood behind you. “I’m as rude as I can be to him without being inappropriate but nothing deters his affections it seems.” You stir slightly, as if waiting for a response but when Rafe stays silent you take a shaky breath. “My fantasies about Father Cameron used to only haunt me at night, with my hand between my legs. But now it’s as if every waking moment of my life I am consumed by my cravings for him.”

Rafe exhales deeply through his nose as his cock hardens in his slacks. He feels saliva pool in his mouth and it takes everything in him not to reveal himself right this moment. But not yet, he needs to know more.

“I want him so badly, father.” Rafe hears the beads on your rosary click against those pretty little rings you wear and all he can think about is pulling it taunt around your throat. “I think about him fucking me more than anything else. More than any of my vows. More than god. I find myself wanting to kneel at his feet instead. And each day this promise I made my mother starts to feel more and more meaningless if I can’t feel his thick cock inside me.” You wait a few beats to see if he will respond but when you’re met with silence you fill it with more of your filthy fantasies. “I fantasize about him bending me over the pews during service and how his big hands would feel gliding across my body, those long fingers deep in my pussy. I want him to fuck me like a slut and make me pray to him like he’s my god while I beg him to cum.”

Arousal builds in your stomach and you rock back and forth with your legs crossed subconsciously seeking friction. The tiny red thong underneath your tunic cupping your cunt like a dirty little secret. Rafe can’t take it anymore, his thoughts turned primal the minute you said his name and the longer you go on the tighter his pants get until he feels like the zipper is going to burst from how hard he is.

“You’re right, those are some very impure thoughts…” Rafe’s voice is low and filled with lust and it makes you gasp. Your hand clutches the rosary around your neck tightly to your chest and your foot darts out and smacks against the door in front of you.

“Father - Father Cameron?” The sudden sound of his voice has your heart rate spiking and your clit practically thumping between your legs. The mixture of arousal and fear shouldn’t feel so delicious washing over your body, but it does. “Is that you?”

“Yeah, doll, it’s me.” Rafe licks his lips, feeling like a mountain lion that cornered a fawn. “If you want me to fuck you like a dirty little whore, all you have to do is ask.”

“I think you know why I couldn’t do that…” Your chest heaves as you struggle to breathe. This can’t be happening.

“Mmm, why? Because god doesn’t want you to get your pussy stretched so far you feel like you're going to split in half?” Rafe chuckles darkly as he leans against the screen separating the two of you, just barely making out your outline. “To be honest, it doesn’t seem like you really care about that.” You start to protest but Rafe shushes you. “It’s too late to make excuses, sweetheart. You told me all I needed to know. Get out of this booth and kneel on the ground in front of it. Now.”

In your mind you know you need to protest, walk out of this room and go to bed like none of this ever happened. But your pussy has a mind of her own. So you push the door open softly and step out before settling on your knees in front of the door Rafe is behind. After what feels like eons but was probably only a few seconds the wooden door swings open, revealing Rafe’s large frame. He has to duck down to go through the small opening before stepping toward you with a wicked look in his eyes and a cheshire smirk painted on his perfect lips. He towers over you, glowering down at you for a moment, taking you in. You were so fucking perfect for him. Those big wide eyes that at first glance seemed innocent but he now knows the dirty thoughts that hide behind them. Your lips are red and plush, like you’ve been biting them the entire time you’ve been here. And the way your hands are clasped in your lap is just the icing on the goddamn cake.

“Fuckin’ look at you.” Rafe’s large hand cups the side of your face and he runs his thumb along your bottom lip, smearing the bit of spit that gathered there. His other hand abruptly grips onto your veil, pulling it and your coif from your head in one swoop. Your hair falls free and Rafe can finally see you for the first time. The hand on your face turns rough as he grips tightly onto your jaw, his other hand gathering your hair so he can yank your head back to look at him. “So goddamn gorgeous. Show me the rest of you. Take that shit off.”

It isn’t a question, it’s a command. And it makes your pussy clench around nothing. You expect him to release his grip on your face but he doesn’t so you push your robes down your arms to the best of your ability. Not only did you have on the pretty little red thong but you had on the lace bra that matched. Rafe’s eyes nearly exploded out of his head at the sight and he never felt like he was going to cum in his pants until he caught sight of the upside down cross tattoo nestled between your tits peeking out through the red lace. You struggle to shimmy your robes the rest of the way down your hips so Rafe decides to help you out by yanking you up by your hair enough for your hips to raise off the ground. The sting of your scalp makes you whimper as you remove the rest of your clothes. You're kneeled in front of a Rafe in the middle of the church in nothing but red lace, white thigh highs, little Mary Jane’s and your rosary. It should feel crude and unclean, you should feel shame, but you feel nothing but carnal desire.

“I fuckin’ knew you were a little whore.” Rafe growls and yanks on the beads around your neck, pulling them tight until they’re slightly cutting off your airflow. “Open your mouth.” You stick your tongue out for good measure and he leans down and spits on it before shoving two of his fingers down your throat, causing you to gag. He curls his fingers in the back of your throat before fucking your mouth with his long digits.

Rafe revels in the way saliva gathers in your mouth and drips down his fingers and wrist as he makes you gag for him. That tiny amount of mascara that you think you’re getting away with that he never misses starts to stream down your cheeks as a few tears escape your eyes. And your hair is more beautiful than he could’ve ever imagined. He pulls his fingers from your mouth with a gasp and his large palm cups your face, rubbing your spit across your lips and chin. Rafe never lets go of your hair as he undoes his belt and pulls his cock out. “Now be a good little nun and suck my fuckin’ cock.”

He doesn’t have to tell you twice as you push yourself up further onto your knees so you can grab onto his shaft. It's thick and heavy in your hand with so much precum dripping from the tip that some drips onto the red carpet. “Well, don’t fuckin’ waste it.” Rafe yanks your head down so far your face is inches from the ground, hovering directly over the drops of his cum. “Clean it up.”

You hesitate for a moment because what he’s asking you to do is so fucking disgusting but when you glance up at him, towering over you like he really is a god, you can’t help but let your tongue dart out and lick the floor. His cum is wet and salty but you hardly get a taste before the feeling of the rough carpet replaces it.

“Oh, you’re so fuckin’ disgusting. Now choke on my dick.” Rafe pulls you back up to his cock and you run your tongue around every inch of his shaft before taking it in your mouth, all the way down your throat.You swallow around him causing your throat to squeeze his dick and then pull off all the way and spit on his head, watching the drool drip down his shaft and onto his balls.

“Jesus Christ, you’re such a sick, little, cock slut.” Rafe growls and grips onto both of your cheeks so he can shove his cock back down your throat. He gives you no time to process before he’s brutally fucking your mouth. You gag and drool without breaking eye contact with him and Rafe swears to god he might end up being the one praying to you at night. He pulls you off his cock and onto your feet by your throat and then he’s kissing you filthy. He practically devours you with his tongue as his hands travel down your body. He pulls on the hook of your bra before yanking the lace from your tits, giving him a full view of your tits but also that little upside down cross tattoo inked between them.

“Jesus Christ, I knew they’d be perfect.” Rafe looks at your tits like they’re the most delicious delicacy he’s ever seen before leaning down to take a nipple in his mouth. He licks and sucks until you’re dripping with his spit and then he bites down on your cleavage so hard he breaks the skin. His fingers lace through your rosary and he uses it to pull your face forward, almost like a leash. “Go bend over that pew, I’m going to make your nasty little fantasies come true.”

“Fuck, Father, are you sure we should be doing this here? What if someone comes in?” For the first time since you found out Rafe was behind that wall you are aware of your surroundings. You’re practically naked in the middle of your church, letting your priest defile you.

“Oh, don’t get shy on me now, sweetheart. And it’s daddy, to you.” Rafe exhales through his nostrils while pulling the beads so tight that they choke you and pinch your skin. “Never wanna hear you call me ‘Father Cameron’ again. From now on it’s my name or daddy. Got it?” You nod and that isn’t going to do it for him. “Use your words to address me. Tell me you understand.”

“Yes, daddy. I understand.” Rafe’s lips break out into a sinister smile. He has you right where he wants you and he’s never letting you go now.

“Good. Now be a good little fuck doll and bend your ass over that pew for me.” You oblige him, feeling equal parts aroused and humiliated as your body bends over the wooden bench. Rafe straight up growls at the sight of you. Those white socks squeeze your plush thighs, cupping the bottom part of your perfect ass that has that little red thong nestled between it. Your pussy is so fucking creamy the crotch of the lace is white and it’s smeared on your legs. And the star of the show? The little bow tramp stamp tattooed on your lower back.

“Well, would you look at that…” Rafe says in a sing-song tone as he approaches you. One of his hands grabs your ass roughly while the other comes to trace a finger along the ink on your back. “You're a lot more naughty than you let on, aren’t you, Angel? Maybe I should punish you for your sins and make you beg for forgiveness?”

“I’m not - I’m not sure what you mean by that, Fa- daddy.” You catch your mistake at the last second, but Rafe doesn’t miss it. Both of his hands come down on either of your asscheeks causing you to jolt forward with a yelp.

“It means I’m going to beat this little ass and you’re going to say ‘thank you daddy’ for every single one.” Rafe spanks your ass with his hand again but the crucifix on top of the Bible next to him is just too good to pass up. He picks it up and runs the cool wood along your ass. He glides it through your dripping folds causing you to look back with a moan. “How about eighteen, since you’re such a sinner? Count.”

“Are you going to use -“ You don’t get to finish asking because your question is quickly answered by the sharp sting of the wooden cross in your ass. “Oh, fuck! One, thank you daddy.”

“Oh good, you’re a quick learner.” He hits you with five more before leaning over to whisper in your ear “that’s six.” And then six more, each harder than the last and you thank him for each and every one. “That’s another six, little sinner.” You expect him to do the last six in succession but after three he pauses to roughly rub the end of the cross against your clit.

“These next ones are gonna hurt real bad.” You can practically hear the smirk in his voice as he kicks your feet further apart before bringing the crucifix between your legs and smacking it against your pussy.

“Oh my goddd, S- Sixteen! Thank you daddy!” Your legs are shaking as you brace yourself for the last two blows. Rafe glides the cross along your inner thigh and back up to your ass before flipping it over and spanking you with the bronzed Jesus, once on each cheek. “Jesus fucking Christ! Seventeen! Eighteen! thank you daddy.” Your body falls limp while you pant, trying to catch your breath as your ass and pussy throb.

“Such a good fuckin’ girl f’me.” Rafe rips your panties down your ankles, not bothering to pull them off all the way and runs his fingers through your folds. “Perfect fuckin’ pussy. I’m gonna goddamn destroy you.”

He brings his fingers to his lips and sucks them clean with a groan. You hear his belt buckle clank and his zipper being pulled down before you feel the head of his cock tapping against your clit. He runs it along your folds, gliding through your wetness with ease. Rafe slides his cock through your asscheeks, smearing your cum around your little hole. He lines up with your dripping entrance and slams into you balls deep in one push. Then he’s fucking into you brutally, no build up, no mercy.

“I knew this little cunt would be so goddamn tight.” Rafe snarls in your ear while one hand grips your ass that’s already breaking out in cross shaped bruises and the other comes up to lace around your rosary, using it as leverage as he continues to buck into you with reckless abandon. “You’re such a depraved whore, letting me fuck you in the middle of the church where anyone could walk in. You're no saint, you're just a sick little pervert.”

“You’re just as disgusting as I am, Rafe.” You glare at him over your shoulder and he looks like the definition of sin. He yanked his collar off and a few buttons down of his shirt at some point showing the gold chain cross against the top of his toned chest, his blonde hair is a complete mess, and the smile painted on his lips is one only a devil would wear. He yanks your rosary until your back is flush against his chest and it’s so tight around your neck you’re surprised it hasn’t snapped.

“Oh, baby doll, you think this is disgusting? If you could see the things that go through my mind when I look at you then you’d know what the meaning of vile really is.” Rafe growls in your ear and angles his hips so his thick cock is hitting you so deep it has your pussy dripping down his balls and onto both of your thighs. He continues to choke you while finding your clit with his other hand so he can rub rough circles on it. “You gonna come for me? Tell me I’m your god while you cream all over my cock.”

“You’re - you’re my god! Please make me come, god!” You writhe against him and he runs his tongue along the length of your throat before biting down on your neck until you bleed. It sends you over the edge, euphoria overtaking you as your pussy gushes around him.

“Yeah, that’s my good little slut, cum for your god.” Rafe presses on your lower back so you're bent back over the pew before gripping onto your hips and pounding into you like a man possessed. “You’re mine now. I own every corrupted piece of you. Your soul. Your body. Your blood. It’s all fuckin’ mine. Tell me.”

“I’m yours, I’m all yours. You’re my god, daddy.” Rafe roars as his hands come down on the bench either side of your head and his hips flush against yours. His cock twitches inside of you while ropes of his cum pump into your pussy. The feeling has an explosion of pleasure washing over you as you cum right along with him. After a moment Rafe pushes off of you, his cock slipping out of you and leaving you feeling empty. His large hands grip onto your shoulders, pulling you up and flipping you over so you’re looking at him.

“I meant that shit, you’re fuckin’ mine. Go pack your shit. We’re leaving.” He captures your lips in a messy kiss and god, you wish you had it in you to turn him down and pretend this never happened. But you’ve had one hit of him and now you're addicted. You’re his.

Tagging Rafe mooties: @babygorewhore @cxrrodedcoffin @oceandriveab @starkeysprincess @eddiesxangel @cameronsprincess @nemesyaaa @rafeinterlude @rafeyscurtainbangs @gri959 @dreamliners @starkeyisthelastname

Divider by @strangergraphics

[demonic-redhead]

To feel a priest cum inside you for the first time is such a delicious privilege

He’s never been touched like this, never felt the inside of someone, never groped breasts before and he can’t get enough now that he’s had a taste

To be the reason a man of God breaks his holy vows is such a powerful feeling… I live for it

[the-black-manor]

You found your priest while he was praying during an exorcism one day. The exorcist gave him one task: Pray and do not stop praying. Even as you curled your slick, shadowy tentacles around his legs and neck, as you trailed your clawed hands beneath his shirt, as you wrapped your tail around his waist and pulled his ass against your bulge, as you licked his neck with a long, wet tongue, he prayed. He continued to pray as you slid his trousers down below the swell of his asscheeks and as you lined your huge, pointed head up with his entrance. He prayed as you grabbed his bulge over his pants and pushed inside of him, stretching him painfully. He prayed through gritted teeth when you pushed him to his hands and knees and fucked him like a dog. His prayers began to falter as his hard cocked bobbed with each thrust, and you stopped when the words did. The exorcist yelled at him to keep going, and so he began again, and your thrusts did as well. He prayed and prayed and prayed while you used him like a toy, filling him with load after load, gallons of hot, fertile demon cum, and he prayed through each of his own climaxes, until you got bored with the charade and left him in a pool of seed and the exorcist in a pool of blood.

The house is empty now - it belongs to you - but the priest still finds himself there multiple times a week. He strips down and lies back on the crude altar he erect in your honor, and he sings the lord's prayers with his sweet, sweet voice while you have your way with him. If he stops praying, you stop moving, and so he babbles out lines that are incomprehensible, barely even prayers anymore, even as his brain turns to mush and he's blinded with pleasure.

You found your priest during an exorcism, when his only task was to pray.

And now he prays to you.

[benzendrine-nosebleed]

"A Prayer On His Lips, A Hail Mary in His Hips (Formerly 'Forgive Me Father.')

Heyyy! This is the first little chapter?? Section?? Chunk??? of the (what was only supposed to be a one shot but turned into fucking novella) story I've been writing.

This part is PG, 2400-2500 words long, and just background settings and buildup.

“Um, forgive me Father, for I have sinned,” I spoke softly. I sat in the confessional booth, the darkness of the enclosed space almost feeling claustrophobic. I had never confessed before, I wasn’t raised in a Catholic house or, nevertheless a religious home. It felt foreign being here, under the cathedral glass, yet I needed to talk to someone, something.

“Yes, my child,” a man’s voice spoke out, the window between the booths opened, a small thud echoing as it opened all of the way.

“This is my first confession, I’ve, I’ve never felt a need to confess my feelings to God, but today, I felt compelled to.”

“It is never to late to begin your own salvation,” he spoke assuredly, “What brought you here to confess?”

I looked down at my hands, barely illuminated in the darkness. “I’ve been struggling, with being happy. I’ve been hurting, for so long, that I’ve stopped loving myself. I don’t know why I came here exactly, but some little voice in me told me to come here and see if finding God could help.”

“God loves all, unconditionally. He will love you when you do not love yourself, as you sin, and as you repent. He loves you as you reach your peaks, and holds you in the valleys.” He spoke as if he has said this exact phrasing time and time, with unwavering confidence in his words.

“How can I begin to love myself again, and find the spark in life that everyone else has?” I looked through the mesh connecting the pews, the soft silhouette of a younger man came through.

“You must first accept the Lord Jesus Christ into your heart, my child, then you may learn to love yourself as He does.”

“How do I accept him? What do I need to do to let him into my life, Father?” I asked, the term ‘Father’ feeling foreign to my lips.

“Begin with coming to church, you’re always welcome into the Sanctuary, as you are now. You are home: broken, damned, or on your highest highs. Begin praying. Ask for The Lord to come into your life, to help you begin to see the good in not just yourself, but the world, those around you. Begin to read the Bible, learn from the mistakes of man before, and model yourself after the lives of the apostles.”

“I, I don’t have a Bible,” I murmured. “I was never in a family that went to Church on Sundays.”

“I have one I can give you, surely. We can set up a mentoring system, and I can assign someone to help you with your studies. I can also help you with beginning to find your footing in the church.” He turned to the mesh separating us. “I’ll have to go to my office to retrieve a bible to give you, if you would join me, I can begin to give you an assignment, then you may join us on Sunday in the Sanctuary to continue learning to accept him, to sing praise to him.”

“Thank you, Father.” I looked through the mesh once more to see him stand up, and the window between us closing. I began to shift out of the booth into the mostly empty chapel. The stone walls arched high stained glass adorned the upper walls with iconography of Jesus, and other holy moments. I looked to the side of the confessional to see a man walk out, his back curved as he exited. He stood up straight, his cassock gently framing his tall, built frame. His eyes shone through his rounded, gold wire glasses, his face softening as he looked at me. He smiled ever so gently, the mustache the rode atop his lip gently framed his upper lip, while the well-trimmed mutton chops framed his cheeks, his cheekbones accentuated by the edge of the chops.

“Please, follow me.” He gestured with an open palm down the aisle between pews. “What was your name?” He asked, beginning to shuffle down the aisle, his light brown hair showing a few small strands falling to his forehead from their pomaded coif.

“Y/N” I said, hastening my pace to keep up with him. His tall frame strode elegantly, almost weightlessly as we made our way past the common area to the main offices.

“It’s nice to meet you, Y/N. Welcome to our Sanctuary. I’m happy to be the one to introduce you to our place of worship, my name is Father Schlatt. Are you from the area?” He asked in a more, casual tone.

“Um, no, I moved here earlier this year.”

“Oh you did, from where?”

“I moved from (insert wherever you want).”

“Oh that’s a pretty part of the country,” his change in tone caught me off guard, as if he was becoming more of a friend than a religious mentor.

“Thank you, it was a difficult move, but I’m learning to enjoy it out here,” I smiled, continuing to keep up with his strides.

We walked down a hallway of offices, stopping at one belonging to a secretary. Father Schlatt poked his head in after gently knocking on the open door. “Hi, we have a new member of the congregation, and I’m getting them set up with a study guide. Could you have one of the other members of the clergy tend to the confessional for the remaining time?”

“Yes, Father Schlatt.”

“Thank you,” He spoke continuing his pace down to the end of the hallway. “This is my office here, please, come in and make yourself comfortable while I find what I need.”

I walked into his office, a small loveseat was against the wall to the hallway, a coffee table and office chair separating the space before his desk. It was mildly cluttered, papers and books strewn over. His computer sat in a corner, turned off. I sat down awkwardly on the sofa, taking in the space around me. His office was at the end of the hallway, the only window in the room being to the outer parking area. I looked around the room, posters with verses adorning the walls, along with photos of Father Schlatt in various conferences, newspaper clippings, and stages of life on a corkboard behind his desk.

Father Schlatt walked over to a bookshelf along the wall behind the door, scanning it for his spare bible.

“I’m hoping to find one that doesn’t have any markings from my sermons in it. I thought I had a brand new one around here,” He murmured to himself.

“I’ll take whatever you have, Father.” I watched as he hunched over, then eventually squatting to look on the lower shelf. He grazed the rows of books, seemingly unsatisfied with what he was finding. I clasped my hands in my lap. He stood up sharply, closing the office door to look at the bookshelf behind it.

“Maybe it’s over here,” He continued to murmur, grazing the bookshelf from top to bottom. “Here it is,” He reached and grabbed a maroon book, the pages edged with a golden hue. “This is for you, Y/N. Welcome to our church.”

“Thank you,” I smiled, feeling a sense of genuine care radiating from him.

“Ah, it’s no problem. I’m glad to have been able to find one.” He walked over to his desk. “You’ve said you were never in a religious family?”

“No, we never went, and the only other time I’ve ever been in a church was for a wedding,” I spoke softly, looking away shyly. I feared that he would look down on me in disgust, like I was unworthy of any saving at this point.

“What do you know about Christianity, or about church in general, Y/N?”

“Not too much, what I know is just from TV shows, that Christmas is Jesus’ birthday, and that sometime there’s wine and crackers.”

“Oh, mercy me...” he smiled, swatting away the air between us. “You have so much to learn about The Lord. You’re but a babe in the eyes of the Shepard,” He laughed. His eyes tore through my own gaze at him, seeing the gentle lines of his face appear with his grin. “It sounds like we have plenty to catch you up on, but I’m- We,” He waved his arms around the room, “We the church are glad to have you join us.”

“Thank you for being so welcoming, but I’m still unsure if this is what I need, Father.” I softly replied, still taking in the ambience of the church, the stained glass, the confessional booth, the gentleman in the cassock willing to bring me into his house of worship so graciously.

“I understand, and I would love to begin to show you how to hold a relationship with Him, but you should never be forced to love God, there are multiple verses I could highlight for you that begin to emphasize that idea. Could I?” He asked, moving from his desk suavely to me at the loveseat. He shuffled by me, sitting on the seat next to me, reaching for a blue pen on the coffee table in front of us. I held the bible out towards him, one of his fingers gently grazing mine as he accepted it. Why was there a spark?

“Thank you, Y/N.” His voice wavered slightly. He opened the book, flipping through the chapters. “We’ll start with Romans 14,” He spoke quietly, scanning the fine print. “’Cultivate your own Relationship with the Lord, but do not impose it on others,’ I’ll mark it for you.” He pressed the pen to the pages, bracketing the verse. His left hand arm pressed to my arm as he marked the pages. “Ah, sorry, I’m left handed,” He chuckled, scooching away gently to give himself more space. “This would be a good place for you to begin your relationship with The Lord, build your own relationship with him, and do not let anyone else impose their own beliefs or righteousness in you.”

“What about praying, Father?” I turned to look to him from staring at the book, his face meeting mine. This close, his gentle cologne wafted to my nose, the sparse freckles on his face becoming more apparent, his honey-brown eyes hollowed looking into mine, the cogs in his mind turning. He dropped his shoulders, his stiffness melting away. “Should, I, should I start praying?”

“Yes,” he affirmed, his words fueling something that was burning inside of myself. His eyes, oh my God... his eyes.

“How, how do I pray correctly?” I questioned, finding the words suddenly became difficult to push out of my chest. “Is it, is it like you see everywhere, pressing your hands together,” I held my hands in a prayer position awkwardly.

“You, you can, but it’s best to do what feels natural for you,” Father Schlatt spoke gruffly, setting the pen down on the bible, and holding his own hands out. “I’ll pray with my hands like this,” He clasped his hands together gently. “I’ll hold my rosary while doing so, I’m assuming you don’t have one if you didn’t have a Bible.”

“No, no I don’t,” I smiled, a sweetness leaving me as a small laugh escaped my lips. His eyes were shifting between my own, my hands, his hands. I could almost feel how much his mind began to race. Mine was racing too... I shouldn’t feel this way. He’s a man of God, he’s not allowed to do anything...

“Here,” He moved his left hand between us into the pocket of his cassock, the gentle fabric draped over his shoulders brushed against me. No, don’t even think about it. He pulled out his rosary, and gently draped it around my hands, now clasped as his once were. His fingertips trailed on my hands, his hands were cold to the touch... But they somehow were hotter than hell on my own. They wrapped the blue-black beads around my wrist softly, and he opened up a space between my fingers to place the cross between them. Fuck. His hands burned their impressions into mine.. his touch lingered.

“How do I properly start a prayer?” I squeaked out, my body feeling a soft throb, throb, throb as I needed more of his touch.

He shifted, his hands staying in place on mine. His gaze grew darker, his parted lips quivering slightly as he shifted himself closer to me again, the side of his body pressed to mine. His face grew close, close enough to smell the gentle smell of sweet maple on his mustache. “You can start prayer however you need to, to start out. We can worry about formality later, when you come back. For now, just close your eyes, Y/N. Repeat what I’m saying.”

“Okay,” My lips curled gently as I closed my eyes, My mind praying on its own for something more than just finding god... it wanted to find salvation in man itself. Throb, Throb, Throb... my heart beat faster.

“Our Father, Who art in Heaven..”

“Our Father, who art in Heaven,” I murmured, barely above a whisper. He stood up off the couch, the warmth of his body pressed to mine dissipating.

“Hallowed be thy name,” He stepped away from the couch, the sound of something shifting on the floor filled the silence.

“Hallowed be thy name.”

“Thy kingdom come, thy will be done,” His footsteps sounded like they moved to my left side, moving towards the door.

“Thy kingdom come, thy will be done,” I repeated, now growing curious as to his movements.

“On earth as it is in Heaven.” Click.

“On earth, as it is in Heaven.”

“Give us this day, our daily bread, and forgive us,” His footsteps moved again toward the far wall of the office, a faint jingle of the shutters shifting.

“Give us this day, our daily bread, and forgive us,” The words leaving my mouth smoothly, feverishly.

“And forgive us, our trespasses,” The sound of the shutters closing, and the darkness settling in behind my eyelids.

“And forgive us, our trespasses,” I held my hands together tighter, the beads feeling heavy on my wrists.

“As we forgive those who trespass against us.”

“As we forgive those who trespass against us.”

“And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil.” He stepped close to me again, his footsteps stopping right before me.

“And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil.” My body was on fire, the words leaving his mouth only pressed the fantasy deeper into my core. The sound of his body sinking to the floor in front of my feet flooded through my ears.

“Amen.”

“Amen,” I spoke gently.

[monstersighing]

Priest who says it’s not breaking his holy vows if he doesn’t fuck his cock into your mouth, your pussy or your ass.

He strips you with impatient hands until you lie, exposed and naked, in front of the altar.

He anoints your tits with holy oil and thrusts between them, swiping his fingers across his leaking cockhead and pushing them deep into your mouth so you can taste his pre-cum on your tongue.

When the priest climaxes, the first spurt of cum stripes your neck. More cum pools between your tits, warm and slick.

Priest who watches with hungry eyes as you scoop up his cum. You swipe it across and into your waiting hole, pumping your fingers in and out, in and out, til you climax with a cry that echoes in the silence of the church.

[my masterlist]

[bathroomtrapped]

my sister told me to caption this 'two lovely men' without any context so heres two lovely christian saw men 👍🏻