SINcerely, Megan Read online

  I heard Father Michaels grunt as he came. “Meet me in my office and we will discuss your penance in person.”

  “Yes father,” I whispered, fully aware of how sensual my voice sounded.

  I waited by his office door for twenty minutes all the while feeling guiltier and guiltier at what had just taken place in the confessional. I scolded myself then. Megan, I told myself sternly, quit feeling guilty for something you’re clearly not sorry about. You’ve done it, you’re going to do it, deal with it. Get a grip! Finally he showed up and wasted no time ushering me inside. He closed and locked the door behind us then pulled the shades.

  I obediently handed him the box of sex toys he’d requested. He lifted the lid, looked inside, and smirked. “We’ll find good use for these. Now strip,” he commanded, his gray eyes glittering with anticipation.

  I eagerly complied, this time putting my hands behind my back and keeping my legs spread so he could see me completely.

  “Beautiful,” he whispered. “Do you remember the rule?”

  I shook my head, confused. “Rule?”

  “If you want me to stop, say red. Do you understand?”

  “Yes, Father,” I whispered. Somehow having an out did make it that much more comfortable. Though at some point, I was going to have to ask him about red thing. It was so weird.

  He smiled. “Good, now lean over the desk and spread your legs. It’s time for your penance.”

  Again, I did as I was told. I saw him take the ruler from the side table. When it struck my ass I yelped and jumped in surprise.

  “Be quiet or I’ll have to gag you,” he said. Then he brought the ruler across my ass again, and again, over and over until my ass stung and my pussy was dripping wet.

  I don’t know what it was about being spanked that made me so aroused, but it did. Father Michaels knew it, too and seemed to really enjoy it.

  “Now, get on your knees, legs spread, hands behind your back,” he ordered in a practiced fashion. Clearly he’d rehearsed this.

  Once I had followed his instruction he reached into his slacks and pulled out the shaft of his swollen, hard cock and offered it to me.

  I have to admit I was surprised at its size. It was at least eight inches and thick. I ran my tongue over the head of his cock, licking the pre-come from the slit. His eyes closed in carnal pleasure. I took the shaft into my mouth as far into the back of my throat as I could and I began to work his cock in and out of my mouth, flicking my tongue over the head. Father Michaels grunted, grabbing my head and fucking my mouth.

  “Oh yeah. Good girl,” he murmured.

  I sucked him until my jaw hurt and finally he came. I swallowed every drop, eagerly licking the head of his cock in case I missed any. I so badly wanted to please him.

  He chuckled. “Greed is one of the seven deadly sins.”

  “So is lust,” I offered with a playful smile.

  “Indeed,” he said, putting his cock back in his pants. “Get back into position.”

  I immediately obeyed with my hands behind my back, on my knees, legs spread.

  He nodded approvingly. “So what did you fantasize about me when you touched yourself last night?”

  I looked up into his eyes. I was too afraid to tell him to his face. But something in his eyes made me want to tell him, to please him. “You inside me while you’re hearing confession. Me sucking you off while you’re hearing confession. You fucking me on the altar.” The visions of all the dirty, depraved things I wanted him to do to me ran through my mind at that moment. Lustful thought after lustful thought. I turned six shades of red.

  He grunted approvingly and ran his tongue over his teeth and then bit his lower lip. “Well then I suppose you should be punished accordingly. Those are very naughty thoughts, Megan. And those very naughty thoughts...” his voice trailed off as he looked me over.

  “Yes Father, “ I whispered.

  “Very naughty thoughts deserve to be punished.” Father Michaels went to his desk and opened the shoebox with the toys I’d brought. “To punish you I am going to put this in your anus.” He pulled out the large butt plug with the wireless remote. Clicking it, it came to life.

  “We don’t have any lubricant, Father,” I protested. I honestly hadn’t thought to grab the bottle of lube from the drawer of my nightstand.

  “Oh yes we do,” he said, looking straight at my wet cunt. “Get up and come here.”

  I stood and made my way to him.

  He lifted me onto the desk and had me lay back, my legs spread wide. With one swift movement he slid the anal plug into my pussy and rolled it around until it was sopping wet. My juices had already flowed down my ass crack, moistening the tight hole. He maneuvered me onto all fours, still on the desk. I leaned forward putting my shoulders to the desk, then reached back and pulled my cheeks apart, exposing my ass. He firmly pressed the anal plug against the tight pucker of my hole; I pushed out, which allowed the plug in. I moaned softly, relaxing as much as I could, taking the widest flange of the plug with ease. Once it was firmly inserted I let out a contented sigh.

  “Now, I turn it on like this,” he said, pushing a button on the remote. For a priest he certainly seemed to know what he was doing.

  The plug hummed to life sending soft tingling sensations through my pussy and anus. I cried out softly.

  He ran his hand gently down my back and over my hip, then back up to the curve of my breasts. “How are you feeling, Megan?”

  I squeezed my thighs together and whimpered. “Like my pussy needs to be filled.”

  He put his hand on my cheek and rubbed it gently. “Poor baby. This is punishment. You need to go to mass tonight.”

  I felt my face flush and I straightened. Surely he wasn’t serious.

  Before I could say anything he said, “Now get dressed. You’ll wear that until mass is over and then you’ll come back to my office, undress, and wait for me in the position, on your knees, legs spread, hands behind your back, is that clear?” He looked me straight in the eye and I melted.

  “Yes, Father.” I hurried to my clothes on the floor and re-dressed myself as Father Michaels amused himself changing the settings on the plug. Before we left to go out into the church, he turned it off.

  I sat in one of the back pews during the mass, being careful to follow along as if everything was normal. During each kneeling prayer the butt plug would come to life and I squeezed my thighs together to massage my clit. It felt so good. I know it’s terrible to say this, but it was the best mass I’d ever been to. I contemplated rubbing my clit through my dress but there were too many people around. Besides, I was enjoying the Father’s method of torture.

  When the mass was over I returned to his office, removed my clothes, and sat waiting for him in the position he liked. I don’t know what it was, but I was eager to please him. When he gave me that approving nod or that look that told me he was aroused or the look that said I was beautiful, I just couldn’t resist doing what he wanted. It satisfied something deep inside me. I wanted it. Needed it.

  Once he returned and had removed his vestments, he bent me over the desk. “I am going to spank you and I want you to count each hit, thank me for it, and ask for another. If you want me to stop say red. Is that clear?”

  “Yes, Father.” My clit was already swollen with anticipation.

  He seemed to notice this, too, so he went to his desk, pulled something out, and came back up behind me. I felt something hard pinch my clit. “Ow!”

  “The clothespin will stay there while I spank you.”

  “Yes Father,” I whimpered. It hurt and it felt so good at the same time. I felt a flood of moisture re-wet my slit.

  Just then his hand came across my ass.

  “One, thank you Father, may I have another?”

  His palm connected with my left cheek this time.

  “Two, thank you Father, may I please have another?”

  With each subsequent smack I pushed my ass toward his hand. I fucking loved being spanke
d by a priest. My priest.

  Finally, when my ass burned red and I was softly sobbing (contently I might add), Father Michaels stopped, removed the clothespin from my clit, and pulled me into his arms. He sat on the floor, leaning against the desk, holding me, caressing my naked body, and stroking my hair. He kissed my forehead and closed his eyes as he pulled me against his chest.

  I was still wet and yearning to have his cock inside me, but I knew that wasn’t within my control. He was the one who would decide when and if I was rewarded. I gently kissed his neck as he stroked my hair.

  “The Demon Lust is a beautiful creature disguised as a woman,” he whispered with a small smile on his lips.

  I smiled. “Well then if I’m possessed by demons perhaps you should exorcise them by driving the wanton lust from my body. Perhaps by satiating its need?”

  He chuckled. “Temptress.”

  “Save me from my lust.” My eyes met his and held them.

  His hands caressed my breasts and he leaned into me, kissing me deeply, his tongue twining with mine. When he pulled himself away he looked into my eyes and said, “I can’t control myself when I’m with you.”

  “Then don’t try,” I encouraged, kissing him back and rubbing my now hard nipples against his fully clothed chest.

  He stood then, lifting me with him as if I weighed nothing at all, setting me on my feet. “Stay here and don’t move. I’ll be back in a few minutes.” With that he left the office, locking the door behind him.

  Fifteen minutes later he was back. He took the box of sex toys off his desk and then took my hand. He began leading me from his office into the corridor.

  I bulked at the threshold in a rush of panic. “Shouldn’t I put something on? What if someone see’s us?”

  “No. No one’s here, I promise. Come with me, now.” There was an evil glint in his eye.

  I stepped into the corridor and followed him into the church, up to the pulpit, next to the altar. I looked around the huge room. It was intimidating with the lights on. In the dark it was absolutely cold and cavernous. It felt as if there were a thousand eyes on us even though the church was empty. I felt vulnerable.

  The altar sat bare in front of me.

  With one quick movement he lifted me up onto it. “Lay back.”

  This was so wrong. I took a deep breath and leaned back until I was on my back, draped over the altar, my breasts heaving, my nipples pointing to the painted ceiling, which I’d never noticed before. Father Michaels opened the box, pulling out clothespins. Clearly he’d put them in there when I wasn’t paying attention. First, he put a clothespin on each of my swollen nipples. Exquisite pain shot through my breasts. Then it felt incredibly good. Finally, he put three clothespins on each of my labia. It pinched at first, but the sensation of being bound sent pleasure through me. I moaned, trying not to come.

  Then he took the largest of the dildos in the box and put it in my mouth. With that, he pulled several candles out of a compartment below the altar, placing a taper in each of my hands.

  “Hold these straight up. Do you understand?”

  I nodded, the dildo still in my mouth.

  The butt plug hummed to life in my ass. I moaned. It made the clothespins vibrate ever so slightly, causing pain and pleasure at the same time. Then, a single taper was slipped deep into my wet, waiting pussy. Father Michaels lit all the candles. I have to admit I was confused for moment. I had no idea what to expect. But he didn’t leave me waiting long to find out.

  He waited until the wax started melting then he took the candle from my left hand and tipped it over my left breast. Hot wax fell over my breast and my hard, clamped nipple. I cried out in surprise at the sensation, the dildo gagging me. He rubbed the wax on my breast, and then he put the candle back in my hand, going over to my right side and doing the same with the candle there. Then he moved between my legs, making sure I was spread for him, and gently worked the lit candle in and out of my pussy by grasping it a few inches below the wick. Suddenly he pulled the candle out of me and tipped the candle over my writhing pussy, the hot wax drenching my swollen, wet lips and hard clit. I cried out again, gagging on the dildo in my mouth. All the while the butt plug pulsed in my asshole sending strong vibrations through my entire sex.

  Father Michaels put out that candle. That’s when I noticed that he was tall enough his hips were even with mine. He pulled my ass to the edge of the altar.

  “Hold those candles in your hands and that phallus in your mouth,” he ordered sternly. With that, he pulled his swollen cock from his pants, pulled my ass slightly over the edge of the altar, and slid his cock inside me with a vigorous thrust.

  Now, with the butt plug still vibrating and the clothespins and now cooled wax drippings all over my body, he slid his thick cock in and out of me in a slow, deliberate rhythm. Sensation slid from my belly to the peaks of my breasts to the tips of my toes as he satiated my lust one long stroke at a time. Then expertly, he began to massage my wanting clit, which rose to greet his thick, long fingers. I spread my legs even wider, enjoying watching his fingers work over my tender nub.

  When I climaxed the sensation was so great that I arched my back, my pussy gripping his cock in spasms. He bucked several times, shoved himself deep inside me and came. I felt his come fill me. I moaned, holding steady the candles and still holding the dildo in my mouth. He leaned forward, his body covering mine. Then he pulled the dildo out of my mouth and kissed me passionately.

  “I want you every day,” he whispered.

  After putting away the candles, cleaning the altar and the toys and putting them away, we went back to his office, closed the door, and then sat back on the floor against his desk. He held me wordlessly, wrapping me in his strong, warm, safe embrace.

  I imagined he was mine, truly mine, and we were together.

  Chapter 4

  The next day I sat in the confessional waiting for him wearing a short skirt with no panties. I brought the lube like he’d asked. The anticipation of what he planned to do to me had me rubbing my thighs together. Again, for the fourth day in a row I was wet. I couldn’t help myself. Father Michaels had done things to me no man had ever done. Touched me in ways no other man had ever touched me. And commanded me in ways no other man commanded me. I liked it. I wanted it. I needed it.

  He arrived a few minutes early. Parishioners would start arriving at two and it was one forty-five. He pulled his cock out immediately, letting me suck him. As I massaged his ball sack and had his cock deep in my throat the first parishioner came in for confession. I heard the door on the other side of the booth open and close and then the man’s voice. A rush of excitement ran through me and I savored each suck, lick, and caress, knowing Father Michaels would have to use real finesse to hear confession while getting a blow job.

  In truth, hearing confession probably helped him last longer. It took five more parishioners before I felt his cock spasm in my mouth, spurting its juice deep into the back of my throat. He looked down at me in absolute bliss and I looked up at him, his cock in my mouth swallowing his come. He seemed pleased and gently stroked my hair. I took extra time sucking making sure I got every drop. By the time the tenth parishioner entered the booth Father Michaels’ cock was swollen and ready again and I was busy massaging the lube onto it. He put some lube on his finger and slid it into the tight pucker of my ass, widening it, readying it for him.

  While we were waiting for parishioner twelve to come in, I lifted my ass to his waiting rod. He pushed forward and I pushed back, sending the head of his swollen prick through the ring of muscle, making way for the rest of his cock to slide deep into me. He buried it up to the hilt. Meanwhile, my pussy, soaked, was left unattended and wanting. For God only knows how long he fucked me. Taking long strokes, enjoying pulling it all the way out, and slipping it back in past the ring. It was torturous. All the while he kept a somber tone, hearing confessions and fucking my asshole. Once it seemed no more parishioners were there, he closed the little window, pulled m
e deep onto his lap, slid three fingers into my wet slit and began fingering my pussy. His other hand brought the spine of a bible against my swollen clit. I rubbed against the bible unashamedly. It felt so wrong. I came on his hand and he came in my ass as another parishioner entered the confessional. He heard her confession as the juices of our mutual lust mingled together.

  Chapter 5

  That night at home I started feeling really guilty again. It occurred to me that I, with my single confession, had led Father Michaels astray. I’d led him into sin and caused him to break his vow of chastity. At any time I could have said no, but I didn’t. As my thoughts grew darker and led me closer to the edge of relentless guilt the phone rang. I picked it up. “Hello?”

  “I need you,” his voice said.

  My heart leapt into my throat. “Father Michaels?”

  “Kevin, call me Kevin. Can I come see you?” He asked.

  My guilt screamed no, but the rest of me said yes. Guess who lost? “Sure. Do you know my address?”

  “I have it here in the parish member directory. You don’t mind?” He sounded worried.

  “No, I don’t mind. I was just going to watch TV with a cup of hot cocoa,” I said softly.

  “Can I bring anything?” he asked charmingly.

  “Not that I can think of,” I said.

  We said our goodbyes and once I hung up I vowed that when he got here, he and I were going to have a long talk about our relationship. No matter how much I wanted it, no matter how much I was falling in love with him, no matter what he felt about me, we had to start acting like adults and thinking about the consequences of what we were doing. He would lose his job and be excommunicated. I would be excommunicated to the horror of my family. There would be a scandal. I think that’s the moment I felt the guiltiest. The moment I realized our affair could ruin both our lives. Even then, a growing part of me didn’t care about the consequences. I just wanted Father Michaels, Kevin.

  Kevin arrived wearing normal street clothes and carrying a bottle of wine. I’d never seen him in jeans and a solid colored t-shirt before. I suppose the shocked expression I wore said everything.