#sacreligious

It was a late rainy evening when you entered the church. Only a handful of parishioners were scattered amongst the pews, praying their penance. The quietness was unnerving, a direct juxtaposition of the lively masses held twice every Sunday. Although you supposed it was fitting for Silent Saturday, the altar was still stripped of all the normal floral embellishments. The large crucifix stood out against the far wall of the altar, lit with a spotlight after its unveiling during yesterday’s Good Friday Mass. You were relieved that they were holding confessions in the evening today, so that you could receive the body of Christ with a pure soul during Easter Mass tomorrow morning.

You cursed the squeak of your shoes as you made your way to the opposite side of the church, where soundproof confessionals were built into the wall. You could see that only one priest was receiving confessions tonight from the lone red light above the middle confessional. You hoped to God that it was not Father Baratheon. He made it feel like God was testing you in a way you could not cope with. You were ashamed of the lust you felt for the priest. A shame you could not share outside of confession, out of fear of being shunned by the only community you knew. A community that already interacted with you hesitantly because you had not wed or become engaged during college. For the better part of the last year, your romantic life has been under a microscope since you moved back after receiving your degree.

The small light above the door turned green as an older man, whom you recognized as an usher, stepped out. You shared a polite smile as you silently looked around to make sure no one else was in line. Over half the people praying had left as the service came to an end. Leaving only the usher, one of the parish’s nuns, and an older couple.

After finding no one else in line, you took a breath before opening the confessional door and closing it softly behind you. You hiked up your dress slightly and kneeled on the small free-standing kneeler positioned in front of a partition, hiding you away from the sight of the priest. Diagonal to you was a chair set up for those brave enough to look the priest in the eye when recounting their sins.

“In the name of the Father, and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit,” a familiar voice rang out from the other side of the partition.

Fuck

You internally cursed as you blessed yourself in time with his prompt, adding profanity to your list of sins. You gulped, trying to control your nerves as you responded.

“Bless me, Father, for I have sinned. It has been a month since my last confession, and these are my sins:” You paused to take a breath before getting into it.

“I have been disrespectful to my parents.” You started, he hummed lightly to prompt you to continue, “While I know their hearts are in the right place, we have been arguing about my future, and I have been unjustifiably short with them. I have used the Lord’s name in vain.” You continued to list, “I have been too focused on vanity and have been vain while using social media. I have lied to others when the truth was harder to tell. I have held grudges against those who have wronged me.” You paused again, taking a deep breath, “I have had impure thoughts and have fallen to lust.”

“How have you fallen to lust?” he prompted, causing you to pause. You have not had a priest prompt you for additional details since you were a child during your first confession. It was so off script that you found yourself answering without any further prompting, your face heating up from embarrassment.

“I have touched myself while thinking of someone who is above their own mortal vices.” You said, hot shame flaring at the back of your neck.

“How have you touched yourself?” he once again prompted,

“How?” you asked back, confused.

“Are you still pure? Or have you penetrated yourself?” he asked.

“I-” you paused, swallowing the lump in your throat, “I have never penetrated myself,”

He paused once again, humming in thought,

“Show me,” he prompted,

“S-sorry?” you asked,

“Show me so that you have remained pure, or I will not allow you to have the Catholic wedding your parents wish for you.”

“But-”

“You are a good girl, you must know that you will only be absolved if you bare your heart to God.” Father Baratheon said, leaving no room for argument.

“Okay,” you said, voice trembling.

“Stand and sit in the chair,” he prompted. You rose off the kneeler, impressions of the cushion pressed into your knees. You bit your lip nervously as you stepped around the partition and sat face-to-face with Father Baratheon. He was in his day-to-day black outfit, comprised of slacks and a long-sleeved dress shirt with his clerical collar. You couldn’t tell if his eyes were dark from lust or from the dim lighting of the confessional as he shamelessly looked you over. You sat in the plastic chair across from him as he rose, only to immediately kneel at your feet.

“Father,” you gasped, as he gently cupped each of your knees and pressed them apart,

“Shh,” he shushed you softly,

“Be a good lamb and stay quiet,” he husked, prompting you to sit up enough to bunch the skirt of your dress around your waist. He groaned at the sight of your white panties.

“Show me how you touch yourself,” he prompted,

“I-”  Your argument dies in your throat as he smirked up at you,

“I think I deserve to see how you sin with me on your mind, don’t you?” he asked, your face enflamed. Slowly, you reach between your thighs as Father Baratheon's eyes lock in on yours. You swallowed as you spread your thighs a bit farther and began to slowly stroke your clit through your panties as your wetness seeped through the thin material above your core.

“Do you touch yourself clothed or bare?” he asked,

“Bare,” you choked as you pressed harder into your clit. He hummed as he gently wrapped his hands around either side of your underwear and slipped them off you. He slipped them into his pocket without looking away from your core.

“Do you always go right for your clit?” he asked,

“Mhm,” you hummed, speeding up your strokes as your wetness lubricates your fingers.

“Hmm, we can work on your technique later,” he said to himself, causing you to whine, “Are you always this wet for me?”  

“Always, Father,” you nod, breath starting to stutter.

“And you can cum without any penetration?” he asked, hands resting on your inner thighs to keep them apart.

“Yes, Fathe-ngn,” You cut yourself off, getting close.

“Stop,” he ordered, his dominant hand wrapped around your wrist. You bit your lip to contain a whine as he gripped your thighs and pulled you forward until your cunt was directly in front of his face.

“If you want to cum, you will do so on my tongue from now on. Understood?” he asked, looking up at you.

“Yes, Father,” you agreed, body thrumming from your impending orgasm.

“Good, girl.” He praised, parting your lower lips. He kept them apart as he examined you.

“Your penance will be helping me release,” he said, looking up at you, “say your act of contrition.”

“O My God,” you started, whining as he licked up from your opening to your clit,

“Go on,” he encouraged, lightly licking your clit. You force a breath before continuing.

“I am heartily sorry for having offended-YOU” you gasped as he began to prod at your opening with his tongue, while he simultaneously began to play with your clit with his fingers.

“And I detest all of my sins because of your just punishment,” you panted, Lyonel, creating a rhythm between playing with your clit and thrusting his tongue in and out of you.

“But, but most of all because they offend you, my GOD-,” you groaned, and he thrusted deeper, tonguing at your tight walls, “Who are all good and deserving of all of my love.” You rushed out, “I firmly resolve with the help of your grace, to sin no more and to avoid the near occasion of SIN-” you cry out, cumming as he licked back against your front wall, while pinching your clit. He worked you through it, shuddering as he pulled his tongue out.

“Amen?” he prompted you to finish the prayer as he wiped your cum off his face with the back of his hand.

“Amen,” you panted.

“Go in peace,” he said, while blessing you with the sign of the cross.

“Thanks be to God,” you reply automatically, thighs shaking as you come down from your high.

“On your knees, sweetling,” he ordered, sitting back on his chair. You slid off the chair, falling to your knees in front of Father Baratheon as he undid the button and unzipped his slacks. Your eyes widened as he pulled out his member.

“Hold out your hand,” he told you, guiding it in front of his mouth so he could spit on it.

“Go on,” he encouraged you, “Earn your penance.”

Hesitantly, you grasped his member, causing him to hiss at the contact.

“That’s it,” he praised, wrapping his hand around yours and guiding you up and down his length.

“Try tasting me, little lamb,” he prompted you, moaning as you hesitantly licked the head of his cock.

“That’s it, good girl,” he groaned, speeding up your pace and encouraging you to swivel your wrist.

“I-” he paused with a moan, “I want you to swallow my cum. Stick out your tongue”

You immediately comply, opening your mouth wide, with your tongue sticking out.

“GOD,” he groaned at the sight, “such a good girl,”

He tightened your grip, only lasted two more pumps before cumming down your throat. He moaned, still guiding your fist up and down his length. You did your best to swallow until his cock hit your uvula, causing a coughing fit. He cupped your jaw gently as he slipped out. Stroking your cheek softly as you recovered.

“Good girl,” he praised again, you still kneeling between his thighs, “My perfect little lamb.”

A/N: Thanks as always for reading ^_^ If you'd like to send a request for next week, please feel free to use the steps in this post: here