#bursona

you'd come to one of his sermon's for help, needing guidance. you life seemed aimless, you didn't have many prospects in your life. you didn't finish highschool, never held a job longer than a few months, and found yourself on the wrong side of the law more times than you could count. your parents were at the end of their rope, and said they'd cut you of completely if you didn't change soon.

they were big fans of pastor gold and his teachings, they'd spent so much money on his services they had to sell their house and move into a small apartment. you thought it was all a scam, it was too good to be true. but they pushed you to try, to believe. at this point, what did you have to lose?

that's how you found yourself at one of his sermons. the crowd was alight, the people beside you were clapping and crying, you couldn't tell if it was joy or dispair. you tried to keep the bewildered expression off your face as you tried to clap when it was appropriate so you didn't stand out.

not that it helped, really. you caught pastor gold's eye quickly. it was like he could smell your confusion, his eyes finding yours in the middle of the crowd. it made your blood run cold, like you'd broken some sort of unspoken rule, irritated him somehow.

but when it was over and you tried to leave with the rest of the crowd, one of his security grabbed your arm and asked you to stay behind. you tried to stutter out an excuse but it was clear no wasn't an answer they'd accept. they brought you down a long corridor lined with posters and accolades from his career, painted portraits of him in that same blue suit he always wore.

once inside his office, you didn't even have time to turn around and ask what was happening before the security had left and shut the door, leaving you alone. well, for the most part.

there was something about the way he looked at you, really looked at you. like he could see your soul. it was terrifying, but it made you feel important in a way you hadn't before. the way he spoke was smoother than silk, you found yourself hanging onto every word, unlike the confusion you'd felt earlier during the sermon.

it didn't take long for him to get you to open up, telling him details about your life your parents didn't even know about. you cried and he pulled you against his chest, a large hand cradling the back of your head as he assured you it would be okay. you were broken, but you could be fixed; you just needed some help from him. and he was more than willing.

that's why it didn't take much convincing to get you sat on his desk, your skirt pushed up around your hips as he whispered promises of salvation into your ear. perhaps if you weren't so desperate you'd poke holes in his logic, question his methods, but you wanted to believe him. and so, you did.

"you've lived a life of sin, but i can see that your heart, your soul, is still pure." he said, hands moving to rest atop your thighs. the cold of his rings making you shiver. "you just need to be cleansed. don't worry, my angel. you will be saved."

his thumbs dipped between your thighs, spreading your legs wider so he could slot his hips between your knees. you were shaking, heartbeating so loud you thought he could hear it.

"how many men have fucked you?" he asked bluntly, fingers pressing a little harder into the plush flesh. you blush, tilting your head to the side to hide your expression.

"uh.. a few, maybe three or four?" you answer awkwardly. you'd had a few partners in your life, but nothing serious. mostly casual flings so you'd have a warm bed to sleep in until they got sick of you.

he hummed, you couldn't tell if he was displeased with your answer. his hands slid up your thighs further, finger tips brushing the underside of your skirt that was bunched up around your hips.

"i can smell their stain on your skin." he spat out the words, one hand lifting from your leg to cup your cheek, forcing you to meet his gaze as he looked down at you. he towered over you, and with the overhead light behind him it made him look ethereal.

"but that past, those mistakes, do not define you. with my help, you will be clean." he said, giving you a smile. his lips curled over his teeth that were just a little too white. his thumb swiped across your lips and instinctively you opened your mouth. his smile somehow widened.

"so obedient. you know you need me, don't you? you came to my sermon because i was supposed to find you." he grinned as his hand slid down the side of your neck to grip your throat, not enough to hurt but still firm. controlling. demanding submission you were already so willing to give.

"y-yes, i came to get help. to f-find faith." you stuttered and his grip tightened slightly. if he wasn't between your legs you would have squeezed them together, shameful arousal building between your legs.

"exactly, darling. you see now, don't you? you are broken, but with my help you shall be whole again and stronger than before." he chuckled, the hand on your thigh sliding up until he was pushing your skirt up your waist, the bare skin of your thighs against the cold wood of his desk.

he hummed as his hand slowly found it's way between your legs, cupping your heat through your underwear. you whimpered and squirmed but he squeezed your throat for a moment, a wordless command to stay still and be patient.

his gaze remained locked on your face as his fingers rubbed against your heat, the fabric already soaked through. he circled your clit gently, teasingly, you whined and he licked his lips.

"your body knows i'm here to help, that's why you're so wet. this need, it doesn't make you sinful. it means you're ready for salvation." his smile was sickeningly sweet, and all you could do was nod like the dumb, gullible idiot you were.

when he moves to pull your panties down you obediently lift your hips to aid him, and the fabric is shoved in his pocket- not before he raises it to his nose and inhales deeply.

his hands a back on you now, one holding your waist while the other returns to the apex of your thighs. you're dripping, you couldn't remember being this aroused before with any previous partner and he had hardly started. maybe it was his sense of authority, or the fact that under that fake tan and terrible haircut he would be quite handsome, or maybe god was real and he was blessing you with his touch.

a long finger slides up the length of your slit and you cry out, hips jumping to get more pressure. your moan is cut short as he gripped your throat again, this time tighter. your breathing strained, but it only turned you on more.

"be still, my angel. you want me to stop? you want me to leave you broken and filthy?" he snapped and you shook your head, tears bubbling in the corners of your eyes. his expression softened immediately but his grip remained on your neck. he leaned down and pressed a kiss to your forehead.

"don't fear the tears, that is natural. it's your body expelling all the sin, that's why you're dripping." he said casually, like the words he's saying make any logical sense. but he speaks with such conviction you just nod and let him continue.

his finger returns to your swollen clit and circling it slowly. you bite your lip to muffle the pathetic sounds you keep making, although its a losing battle when he lowers his finger to circle your entrance once before pressing inside.

you gasp, the feeling of his cold, metal rings inside you is shocking but not unpleasant. he doesn't thrust, instead pressing deep and curving his finger to rub against your walls. he rotates his wrist so he can rub his palm against your clit.

"so warm and tight." he murmurs, finger probing deep until he finds that spongey spot that makes your back arch. once he finds it he massages it with expert precision.

you're a mess, moans slipping past your lips as he holds your throat to keep you in place. you're dripping arousal now, leaking down his hand and wrist messily. you're confident there must be a puddle on his desk by now.

he continues to torture you with just one ringed finger, the pleasure is intense but not enough to get you off. it keeps you on the edge, makes your legs go numb and brain stop functioning so all you can focus on is him.

you gasp when he pulls his hand away, bringing it up to his face to study it. he shows it to you, the way your juices cling to the rings and slide down the curves of his hand should be disgusting but he seems pleased with your reaction.

"see this? this is all that filth inside you, desperate to be released. you feel it, don't you? that desperate need to let it all out." he explained, still gripping your throat as you nod pathetically. all you could think about was finishing, letting go of that tight feeling in your stomach. you knew he meant an orgasm, but the way he spoke made it sound like some sort of religious experience.

with his hand on your neck he guided you to lie back on his desk, a few of the vhs boxes dig into your back but you don't complain. he gets to his knees and spreads your legs wide. his hand is still slick with your arousal as he leans in close and inhales deeply.

"mhm, you smell so sweet. i knew you would, when i saw you in the crowd. i could smell it from my podium." he comments as his thumbs spread your folds wide, watching as your hole leaks pathetically and your clit practically throbs for his touch to return. "that's how i knew you could be saved, darling. that on the inside you're still pure and sweet."

you don't have time to respond before his mouth is on you. it's slow and sloppy, you can hear his lips smack as he licks and sucks down your juices. you choke back moans, cupping a hand over your mouth to try and stay quiet as his tongue explores your most intimate place.

"let it all out, angel, let him hear you." he murmured against your hot flesh, groaning as another rush of your arousal coats his tongue and drips down his chin.

him, he means god you realise. somehow the shame of knowing you are being watched by the religious figure only arouses you more and so you throw your head back and stop let out every pathetic sound, much to pastor gold's delight.

your sounds encourage him as he groans against your heat, teeth catching on your clit before his tongue is dipping inside. he maneuver your thighs onto his shoulders, pressing his face deeper as he fucks you with the agile muscle, his nose bumping against your sensitive clit.

like he did with his fingers, he is moving slowly but diligently. he's in no rush, taking his time to be thorough. part of you wonders if he is enjoying it, but he's convinced you this is all for the greater good, not some selfish sexual desire of his. it can't be, he wouldn't lie just to get between you thighs, right?

"so fucking filthy, you always leak this much? been such a whore your whole life, it's the only thing your body knows how to do." he mutters, suddenly angry. he growls against your inner thighs as he mouths at the sensitive flesh, dragging his teeth across the skin. "you're lucky i found you, so fucking pathetic right now. such a needy bitch."

you sob, tears sliding down your cheeks as he sits back and presses two fingers back inside you. you look down to see his face, the hair pushed back and he's slick with your juices from his nose down his neck.

"i'm a whore, a filthy fucking whore!" you cry, thighs quivering as he abuses your g-spot with two long fingers. your walls cling to the rings, the texture heightening the pleasure along with his degrading words.

"yes, admit your sin. let him hear how desperately you want to be saved by me, slut." he growled, thumb finding your swollen clit as his teeth dig into your thigh hard enough to leave a mark. "apologise to him, and beg for my salvation, you dirty fucking whore."

"f-fuck! i'm sorry! i'm sorry i sinned, i'm s-sorry i didn't believe!" you wail pathetically, fingers scrambling to grab at anything on the table, pushing the books and vhs tapes around. "i'm a slut, a whore! a dirty f-fucking sinner! please, help me pastor gold. i-i don't wanna go to hell, please. make me pure! save me!"

he smiles against your thigh, moving to give you another bite mark right next to the first as his fingers speed up. your inner walls clench around him, beckoning him deeper. tears slide down your cheeks as your juices slide down his wrist. his calloused thumb expertly circles your clit, the perfect speed to build an orgasm in your gut.

"recognising your sin is the first step, pet. i'm hear to answer your pathetic, slutty whining." he says, standing up but his hand continues working you towards an orgasm. he leans over you as you tremble on the table, his free hand pressing down on your lower stomach as you sob.

"do you want to be cleansed? tell me, do you want to be saved from your own filth? find god, and follow me into salvation?" he demanded, wrist moving faster as your body built closer and closer to that elusive release.

"yes! please, i-i need you pastor gold! i want to be saved, want to go to heaven instead of hell. please, help me s-stop being a whore! wanna be pure and clean." you sob, thighs shaking as you throw your head back so it slams audibly on the table.

you're so close, so fucking close. you swear you start to see a bright white light but before you can reach out for it his hand is pulled away, and he's keeping you pinned down to the table with the hand on your stomach.

you whine, struggling to even lift your head to look at him as the orgasm eludes you once more and your arousal is dripping down the cleft of your ass and onto the table. you don't feel frustrated, just more desperate than you've ever felt in your life. you don't realise you're crying until his hand cups your face, coating your skin in your own essense.

"shh, it's okay darling. i'm here." suddenly he's sweet again, his voice calm and collected. you hear his belt unbuckle and you look down to see he's unzipped his pants just enough to pull out his dick. long, hard and threatening. and yet, you part your legs obediently.

you sniffle as he positions himself between your legs, rubbing his cockhead up the length of your slit a few times as you whimper and continue to cry quietly.

"just breath, my sweet. it'll all be better soon." he assures you before slowly pressing inside. you arch off the bed, mouth falling open as he doesn't stop until his pelvis is flush with yours. you feel so full, and he increases the pressure on your stomach so you tighten up even more and he mutters something under his breath.

he leans over you, caging you against the desk. one hand flat against the wood while the other pulls your leg around his waist and he grinds against you. his tongue swipes up and down your cheek, tasting your tears.

"my angel, your tears have not been wasted. your time has come to be saved." he murmured, pulling back and thrusting forward slowly. the rhythm is deep and purposeful, he's pulling out until the head catches on your entrance before pushing all the way inside again. the books rattle on the table, and you continue to cry.

not because you're sad, but because you finally feel complete. like this was were you were always supposed to end up, spread open on his desk as he fucked you like it was worship.

he continues to lick your tears, whispering praise into your ear as you quiver around him. his stays slow and methodical, but still leaves your legs numb and head spinning.

"every time i fill you up your clench around me, your body knows i'm here to help." he grinned his nose bumping yours as he looks down at you. you realise suddenly despite the intimacy of this moment, he still hasn't even kissed you. you lift your chin to try and catch his lips but he pulls back, hips slamming forward a little rougher.

"tell me how you feel, angel." he asks, the hand on the table moving to grip your throat once more as he sits up and continues to fuck you. you whimper, nose running and tears sliding down your cheeks as you sob.

"f-feels good, pastor gold." you stutter, panting as his grip on your throat tightens briefly. "like i'm meant to be here, getting cleansed by your godly touch."

he hums in approval, keeping a grip on your throat as his hand holds your hips in place. his gaze is locked on your face, watching you cry as he fucks you into his desk. a few books and tapes slide onto the floor as he gets harder, the pace still slow but your body jolts with every thrust.

"perfection." he mutters, more to himself than you as he continues to thrust deeply. you couldn't tell if minutes or hours had passed, your head rolling back against the desk as he fucked every thought from your head. you'd do anything he asked, he was the only thing that felt real.

you arch off the table when the angle shifts and his cockhead presses into that soft spot he'd abused with his fingers earlier, and he's grinning again when he targets it repeatedly. you're a drooling, crying mess as he slowly speeds up.

objects clatter from the table and you reach out for him but he pulls his hand away from your throat to slap your hands back, squeezing your throat so tight it's hard to breath. so you reach above your head and grip the edge of the desk, fingernails pressing into the expensive wood as he pounds into you.

"you're so close, aren't you?" he says, voice surprisingly calm even as he's rearranging your insides. you just nod and whimper, choking on your own snot and tears as he holds your throat to keep you in place.

"that feeling, that release you want oh so desperately; i'm the only one who can make you feel this way. don't you understand? i'm the only one supposed to touch you like this, so you can be saved, darling." he tells you like it's a fact, and you believe him. it must be true, this pleasure can't be wrong, it's heavenly.

he grunts, teeth digging into his bottom lip as his pace become brutal, it almost hurts as he uses his weight to press down on your neck and lifts your ass off the table to fuck into you deeper. your eyes roll back and babble incoherently. you're so close, that orgasm he's been teasing you with is within your grasp once more.

"tell me you want to be saved, and i'll save you. clean your soul of sin, grant you passage into heaven from my touch." he growls, eyes dark as you nod and whine. you aren't really talking, your tongue fumbling with words so you just nod and beg.

he's squeezing your throat so tight now you start to see white, choking and trying to breath desperately but you can hardly inhale. all you can focus on his the feeling of his thick cock, his hand on your neck and the knowledge that soon you'll be pure again.

"that's it, my sweet. take it, take your medicine. get saved, be pure once again. take it, darling. fucking take your salvation!" he shouts before he's coming inside you with a loud groan. he fucks you through his orgasm, the feeling of his hot seed flooding your unprotected womb is enough to push you over the edge as you sob and come around him.

he fucks into your sloppy hole until he stills balls-deep inside you, breathing heavily. only then does his hand leave your throat and you gasp, desperately choking down air and filling your lungs. you're shaking and whimpering as your vision and thoughts slowly come back into your head.

"you did perfectly, angel." he murmured, hands running up and down your quivering thighs as you sob and sniffle. you wipe at your face, smearing the snot and tears around in an attempt to clean yourself up, he chuckles at the sight, staying inside you as he reaches to open a draw on the desk and pull out a branded handkerchief and begins to wipe away the mess on your face.

you smile up at him dumbly, hiccuping slightly as he looks down at you with reverence. you look at him like he's a god, and he seems proud of what he's done to you.

his touch stays tender as he slowly pulls out. you whine at the empty feeling, and jump slightly as he uses the same handkerchief to now clean between your legs.

"am i pure now, pastor gold?" you ask as he guides you to sit back up and pulls you flush against his chest. you nuzzle into his touch, smelling his cologne and own arousal on his suit jacket.

"no." he says simply, his fingers threading through your messy hair as you wrap your arms around his middle. "but you will be, my angel."

you pull back just enough to look up at him in confusion and he grins, that fucking grin. what once terrified you now makes your pussy clench around nothing.

"i'll keep giving you these private sermon's until i'm satisfied you've been cleansed of all sin." he says simply, taking a step back and holding your hand as you slide of the desk onto trembling legs. you glance around in search of your underwear and he taps his pocket to remind you he has them.

"you won't be needing these anytime soon, they're soaked in sin." he says casually, straightening your skirt so it covers your bare ass and cunt that is still dripping his seed. "besides, you shouldn't be embarrassed. you're on your way to heaven."

you nod, cheeks still flushed as he places a hand on your lower back and walks you towards the door. he slides a book and vhs tape into you hands, reminding you when the next sermon is.

he cups your cheek, pressing a kiss to you're forehead and you close your eyes, melting into his touch. your pussy and brain is full of him, you struggle to even remember the woman you were before you walked into his office.

you thank him and limp slightly as you walk out the door, you hear him chuckle before he closes it behind you. you've got a dumb smile on your face as you walk down the hall, already counting down the hours until his next sermon.

he was your god, and you would be his loyal disciple as he brought you to heaven.

────୨ৎ────

ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ ɪꜱ ɴᴏᴛ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ᴛʀᴀɴꜱʟᴀᴛᴇᴅ, ʀᴇᴘᴏꜱᴛᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ꜱɪᴛᴇꜱ, ᴘʟᴀɢɪᴀʀɪꜱᴇᴅ ᴏʀ ᴜꜱᴇᴅ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛʀᴀɪɴɪɴɢ ᴏꜰ ᴀɪ.

・・・・・

“Aww, honey, you’re home! How was your day?” Wilbur was almost numb to the soft, sweet voice after what he’d seen. His girlfriend, smiling at another man? She was his, his only.

She rounds the corner, rolling the baggy sleeves of Wilbur’s hoodie up over her wrists. “What’s wrong, baby? You’re acting quiet.”

Wilbur grabs her, kisses her roughly, needing to feel her in his arms to know she was his again. She giggles, threading her fingers through his hair as he tastes the sweet nectar of her lips.

“Are you going to tell me what’s wrong?” She asks playfully, batting his arm with the long sleeves of the hoodie. “Or do I have to guess?”

He finally speaks the first words after what he’d seen. “Nothing’s wrong, baby,” Wilbur lies. “Just missed my girl.”

“Aww, your girl?” She’s being sly, but it hits Wilbur where it hurts.

She’d smiled at him. Wilbur had watched through the store window, his girlfriend smiling at the cashier. He handed her the receipt, and she’d flashed her gorgeous smile at someone who wasn’t her boyfriend.

Wilbur pushes her down onto their old sofa, pawing at the fabric between them. “Need you,” he murmurs, finally pushing up the hoodie and burying his face between her soft, full tits. “My girl, only my girl,” he whines against her skin.

“Aww, baby, you really missed me, huh?” She whispers, stroking his hair. “Anything happen?”

She can’t know.

Wilbur shakes his head, rooting around until he sucks her nipple into his mouth, relaxing as his tongue flicks and strokes.

She groans slightly, sending every single ounce of blood in Wilbur’s body south. As his erection grows, he starts to hump and grind on her thigh, whining at the stimulation.

“Need to taste my girl, let me,” he begs, pulling away from her tits and tugging at her panties. “Please, baby, I need you.”

Smiling, she helps him tug her panties down. “You wanna eat my pussy, baby?”

“Yours,” he breathes, throwing her legs onto his shoulders and kissing her inner thighs.

Given the chance, Wilbur will suffocate on pussy. Breathing becomes less important, and he’ll give himself lockjaw before he dares pull away for a second. Combine this with how possessive he is, how much he needs her?

His tongue flicks up and down her soaked pussy, one hand gripped on her thigh, the other rubbing his aching erection. Feeling her legs wrapped around his head, her smell, his pussy singing on his tongue is too much for him to take. He explodes, filling up his boxers with rope after rope of hot, white cum, whining as he sucks her clit into his mouth.

“Oh, fuck, Will,” she moans, pushing his face harder into her dripping pussy. “Did you… did you cum?”

Wilbur nods, not stopping for anything. His hand snakes up, two fingers slipping inside of her and curling to the spot she loves, the spot that makes her eyes roll back.

His cock is still twitching as her first orgasm hits, liquid gushing into his mouth. He wouldn’t dream of stopping, so he swallows every drop and fingers her even harder.

“Don’t… stop,” she manages to cry out, body bucking at the hips at the overwhelming pleasure. More squirt gushes out with every pump of Wilbur’s fingers inside her, slick from her wetness.

Wilbur looses track of her orgasms after a while. All he knows is that he’s rock-hard again, and needs to be inside her.

In a fluid motion, he pulls his head back and his jeans and boxers down.

“Shit.” He looks up. “I didn’t buy more condoms.”

Her chest is heaving from the seemingly endless stream of orgasms Wilbur’s fingers have dragged from her.

“Can I go in raw this once?” He begs. “Please, baby? Just once?”

“One time… can’t hurt,” she whispers. “I need you inside me, I don’t care, please,”

The first thrust into her with his bare cock is the best thing Wilbur has ever felt.

“Never,” he growls, thrusting into her harder and harder. “Never. Buy. Condoms. Again.”

All she can do is whine, nails digging into his back in pleasure. Looking at his girlfriend’s perfect, gorgeous face, Wilbur can’t imagine her with someone who isn’t him.

“You’re mine,” he whines in her ear. “Say it.”

“I’m…” She tries, another sharp thrust making her gasp. “Yours.”

“Again.” He’s getting dangerously close to spilling inside her, and needs to hear it. As many times as she can say it.

“Oh, fuck, I’m yours, I’m yours, I’m yours, Will!” She clenches around him as another orgasm slams into her, crying out in pleasure.

That’s all it takes for him to fall over the edge yet again, his girlfriend gasping at the warmth of his cum flooding her insides. Wilbur thrusts until the overstimulation is painful, then pulls out, stray drops glistening on her lower stomach.

“That’s my good girl,” he whispers, kissing all over her bare stomach and chest.

She giggles, tugging him up for a kiss. “You needed that, huh?”

“Not as much as you need a shower. C’mon,” Wilbur smiles, scooping her in his arms and heading for their bathroom. “We can shower together. I need you to reach my back.”

The warmth of the shower relaxes Wilbur’s mind. His girlfriend sits in his lap on the floor, her dainty hands rubbing shampoo into his hair with a soft smile.

There’s nothing to worry about.

“How was your day, Will?” She asks, looking at him with her beautiful, bright eyes. The same beautiful, bright eyes that smiled at someone that wasn’t him, just a few hours ago.

He tugs her onto his lap, easing his cock inside her.