Loading...She had come to pray. That was all. Now she was on her knees, gagging on Father O’Reilly’s cock.
It was so thick. When he had brushed aside his robes, a hot, red slab of meat with bulging veins was revealed and pressed to her lips.
“I’ve been listening to you say your prayers. Why don’t you say the Our Father, Ashley?” he asked, still pressing the head of his cock against her smooth lips.
Ashley thought her lips would scorch. Her experience with men was limited, growing up in a Catholic orphanage for girls with only nuns for company. Rarely did a priest visit except for an hour or two on Sunday to conduct mass. Ashley was afraid to refuse.
When she parted her lips to begin the sacred words, Father O’Reilly pushed his dick slowly but firmly into her mouth. He pushed further until he felt the head bump the back of her throat. He was deaf to her gags and blind to the sight of her narrow shoulders shuddering from the sensation.
That morning’s breakfast kept threatening to spew, but she managed to keep it down. Her big black eyes were overflowing with tears of panic and humiliation. She suspected that Father was not supposed to do this, though matters of sex never came up in the girl’s school.
But Ashley was all innocence. This was not her first encounter with Father O’Reilly, though her first ones had been even more strange than this. The first was a few months ago when she had come for confession. When she had told of how she had been shirking off duties at work, the middle-aged Father told her to come around to receive her punishment. What she found when she came around the curtain was Father standing with his hands demurely pressed together.
“Please kneel, child.”
She did as she was told. Then she felt him coming closer and heard him tell her to open her mouth. Father peed in her mouth and demanded she swallow. It was the only way, he told her. She was lazy and deserved a punishment of filth because that was all her antics would get her. She accepted God’s will.
Not long after that, the father had instructed her to come back late in the evening to receive her punishment for another transgression. She did not like her boss at work and had imagined the woman being fired. Ashley felt awful about this, so she accepted, again, God’s will. This time she was to take off her clothes and allow Father O’Reilly to beat her bare flesh for her impertinent thoughts. Her chocolate-colored flesh smarted with welts and cuts and the next morning she awoke with dark bruises.
It began with him laying her rather delicately across his lap and thrashing her bottom. He had begun intoning holy words and he threw her off his lap and came at her with pure furor, slapping and kicking. From his hip, he pulled out some sort of whip that he used to beat her ass and breasts, which later he grabbed and painfully squeezed her nipples until she began to cry in earnest. Finally, before the punishment was done, Father spread her legs and inspected her body. He asked about her menstruation and after he had been satisfied with her answers, he told her to shave away what he called the proof of Eve — her pubic hair.
Father O’Reilly received strange messages from God. Now as he looked down at her, he seemed unseeing, uncaring. His eyes were even darker than Ashley’s — veritable pools of blackness. And his hair was fire. His skin was alabaster with a dusting of light freckles. He was directly from Ireland and had moved to London to pursue his interest in the priesthood. He had been doing so well until he came across Ashley. She aroused every human instinct in him to protect and every animal instinct in him to devour.
All he could think, as he stood there with his dick pushed deep into her throat and those big eyes of hers staring up at him to wait for God’s so-called punishment to end, was that she was probably an angel on earth. He should take care not to truly ruin her. He fervently hoped that Ashley did not understand what was happening. He knew the orphanage she had grown up in and while most girls left haunted by the wet kisses and sloppy hands of the sisters burned into their memories, a few left unharmed. The ones whose meekness and devotion to God and Christ were unnerving to the sisters: those, they left alone.
Her skin was amazingly smooth. Her lips amazingly soft. Her eyes amazingly honest. Her breasts amazingly ripe, her ass the same, her vagina… He left his thoughts there.
Without realizing, he had reached down to grip her head in his hands and was by now slamming his hips against her lips, silently. His cock was so swollen, it was a wonder that he had not spilled every ounce of his life’s seed down her throat. In the ten years he had been a priest, he had adopted a discipline of iron. Perhaps that was it, he mused.
He pulled his cock from her mouth and told her to stand. Quick to obey, she was on her feet and when he commanded that she disrobe him, she did not hesitate. By now she must know, he thought.
And she did. Ashley knew what was happening but she had lived a virgin until now. She had kept her body a temple for God and in her mind it was just as well to offer her temple to a man of God here on earth. Father took her to the altar and she guessed he wasn’t expecting anyone around this time.
She glanced at his manhood and noted how rigid it appeared. She knew it felt as hard as any rock she had experienced. At the altar, he pulled her shirt open, disregarding the buttons, a few of them popping off. She could hear them rattling across the floor. Next, he jerked up her bra to free her breasts. He sighed and closed his eyes, as if in pain. She reached out to comfort him but before she could touch his face, he slapped her hand away. His eyes opened and he pinned her with that gaze.
His hands lifted to her breasts. He tugged on the nipples, began to twist the nipples, was soon mashing her nipples between his thumb and forefinger. She kept her eyes on him, watching how his lips stretched into a grin of pleasure as her own twisted into a grimace of pain and soon salted with tears.
He hitched up the plain black skirt she wore around her waist and pushed her panties down so that they fell around her ankles before she could protest.
Aaron had heard her whimpered ‘No, please’ but he thought it was because she was understanding and not ready. Jesus looked down on them both as the father reached between the lips of her smooth cunt to test the hot liquid clinging to her flesh.
Blood. It should not have aroused him further but it did. By all rights, it should have stayed his hand. Stopped his fevered brain, killed his destructive quest. Any other man, priest or not would have had mercy, but Aaron was pushed beyond limits. He and Jesus stared at the tips of his fingers.
Ashley cried silently. She was so embarrassed. She had been suffering with pains all day, how could she have forgotten? Such an idiot, she should have remembered and warned Father.
“I am so sorry, Father. I want to please you and God. I forgot, you see –” She was cut short when his fingers dipped again, three of them this time into that small, hot hole. The small of her back pressed against the heavy table and she used her palms to brace herself against it.
With his free left hand, he pulled her right thigh up around his waist. Replacing his right hand with his cock, he plunged deep into her, yelling Irish obscenities from his younger days that he thought well-stifled. He had both her legs around his waist now as he plunged back and forth inside her, harder and more vicious thrusts each time.
Ashley’s head was thrown back. She could feel the head of his manhood pushing against some back wall inside her. Every invasion was more brutal than the last and she prayed deep in her heart for the fullest, heaviest punishment to cleanse her of her sins.
The tips of her breasts pulsed with ecstasy and she could not help but to whimper. She began to believe this was religious ecstasy; nothing had ever felt so wonderful. Such a sweet pain delivered by this man of God.
Aaron’s mind was blank of all religious ties as he drove into her tight body. He was purely a beast, taking her pleasure of this girl and reaping the rewards of her womanhood. Perhaps his choice for today wasn’t as accidental as he’d thought at the initial shock of her blood on his fingers. He had asked. This was what he wanted.
He pushed harder and harder. Aaron was insane with need, fucking shit-all and probably bruising her body. He did want to punish her for driving him to this point. Slam, slam, slam. He could feel her virginal pussy clinging to his cock and tightening as pleasure gripped her. The hand at her hip could feel the muscles deep inside her contracting as she came. He felt the rush of her juices. He heard her sweet moan and saw her eyes roll back into her head.
He let himself release. It would have been most wise to withdraw but he kept himself buried as deep as he would go inside her. He pinched her clit as he dumped little saintly bastards into her young womb, virgin no more.
His cock was red with her. The site was so profane as to be unreal. This dark girl had brought out an unspeakable savage in him. He could hear her whispering, “Father O’Reilly, give me to God,” or some such nonsense. He would keep her for himself. He would have to explain that to her. She really was too naïve.
She propped herself up on her elbows and he stared at her. Those eyes were full of worship as if he were God on earth and he had to admit a strong liking of it. He wanted to crush her with his desire. He wanted to tire her body with every bit of sin in him. Her body had become his confessional.
“You do not belong to God, Ashley. You belong to me. Think of yourself as a servant to a man of God.” That would convince her. “Allow no one else to touch you. Remain purely a vessel unto me. Do you understand, woman?”
When she nodded, he wanted to crush her again and again. What were these impulses? What weakness?
He gathered her and walked, her body still fully impaled by his hardening cock, into the living quarters that he inhabited alone. Once in his bathroom, he took her into the shower and began to tenderly wash her and then himself.
Her ass was so round and tempting. His pushed his forefinger into her butt. It was so tight, all he could think of was putting his cock there. Just as deep as his cock had been in her pussy.
“Father, please. I know that cannot be holy.” Fine time to be questioning their activities, he thought. Did she really think she could stop him now? Ever? He had taken her under the gaze of Jesus and all he holy saints. He had brutally fucked her on the altar of God.
“It is holy to please me, Ashley.”
That said, he began soaping up her ass, using the suds as a primitive lubricant. When he was satisfied, he lathered his cock and then pushed into her bottom. He exhaled slow and hard. “Sweet Jesus, lass. Will you drive a man to Satan? Lord in all fucking hell. I’m driven to treating you as the most willing of whores and I care not if I impose every sin of my nature on you, though you are as sweet as a lamb.” He withdrew and eased back into her tense hole. She was afraid.
Ashley had never heard Father speak so. What had she done? What was he saying? She knew she enjoyed his attentions. Even now, as strange and painful as it was, to feel his cock pulsing in her bottom was beyond anything she had ever imagined. Her thoughts drifted fully to that matter.
She bent a little to offer her bottom more fully. Instinctively, she lightly rocked her hips back against him. “Och, no, you silly girl!” He was yelling, she noticed. “My lord, but you’re a silly slut sent from Satan and not innocent.” He drew air between his teeth before one hard thrust into her ass that sent her stumbling a few feet forward and bumping her head on the wall of the shower. “Naught but a little whore. I know you want it. Tell me if you want it, girl.”
She looked over her shoulder and lifted her brown eyes to his black ones and nodded with an impish grin. “Yes, I do, Father O’Reilly. Please as you will.”
That was all he needed to hear before he was pumping in and out of her, listening to her light moans and oooos and aaaahs. God help. He came in her ass. When he pulled from her, her asshole was stretched wide and hot. She reached behind her to feel it, still bent over in that wanton way.
“You’ll need to dress and be home, girl.” He left here there in the shower, her fingertips drifting over the tips of her breasts, her belly, and her thighs.