July 30, 2008

Confessions

Posted in stories tagged at 1:18 pm by littlesubmissions

“I bought one, I bought one, I bought one!” She did a bizarre excited dance, her hands shaking the hangers, making the clothes bounce and jerk in time with her feet while they did something from a Gene Kelly soft shoe routine on bad acid. “So will you wear it?”

He blinked, opened his mouth, then blinked again. “Uhm, normally I love that your ideas are even more fucked up than mine, but this is… kind of… why?”

Her mouth turned into a calculated pout and her eyes opened wide. “You’re an atheist. You named our hamster Nietzsche. So what’s the problem?”

“Well, no problem, I guess. It’s just not a fetish I’ve ever really had. And that hamster has some radical ideas on Platonism, so I had more than one reason for naming him Nietzsche.” He grinned at her, trying to figure out how serious she was.

“Awesome! Trust me, I’ll make it worth your while.” The dance morphed into a sort of Sound of Music goosestep and she dropped the black pants and shirts on his lap, layed the stiff white collar on top of them. “I’ll clean out the linen closet and be waiting for you. You remember how it goes right?”

“Hon, my parents, we were Protestants. We didn’t do the whole formal confession thing. The priest just talked to us every Sunday and if you were still awake when he finished you considered yourself saved.”

Her teeth appeared, chewed on her lower lip. “Well, can you fake it?”

His shoulders moved up and down in a shrug. “Yeah, I guess. I’ve seen it in movies.”

“Eeek!” She squeaked and kissed him on the lips. “Great. Give me ten minutes.” She ran out of the room, only stopping long enough to grin maniacally and let him see her lick her lips slowly before shooting down the hall.

He smiled at her and stripped down, pulling on the black trousers and buttoning the shirt, wrapping the collar around his neck and pulling the button through the hole. He dug through the closet, found the dress shoes he only wore for weddings and funerals and pulled them on over black socks. With a couple of minutes to spare he brushed his teeth and trimmed his nails carefully, then walked down the hall.

The sheets and towels were thrown haphazardly in a corner, and a chair sat on his side of the closet. He could see pale glimpses of her flesh through the wooden slats of the door, imagined how she’d look kneeling there and swallowed hard before crossing the room and sitting down. He looked around, stood up, and walked back across the room. Hit the light switch with a casual finger, then walked back to the chair in the now dim room.

“Are you there Father?” Soft pleading words came through the door as he settled back into the chair.

“Yes, I’m here.” He leaned forward, whispered back to her. “Begin whenever you’re ready.”

Her words were slow and cool now, so different from her frantic energy a few moments ago. “Bless me Father, for I have sinned.”

“And how long has it been since your last confession?” He leaned in closer, wondering where she was going with this.

“Oh, I’ve never confessed before Father. It’s just that I’ve done something so horrible I felt the need for forgiveness.”

“What have you done?” He felt his mouth getting drier, and shifted uncomfortably in the hard wooden chair.

“I made my boyfriend pretend to be a priest.” A soft moan filtered out of the closet, and a sudden thought occurred to him. He looked back over his shoulder, and saw one leg of her blue jeans peeking out from under the pile of sheets and towels.

“Are you naked in there?”

“Father?! What kind of question is that?” He heard the dorky laugh she used when she was making fun of him, and leaned back in his chair to see if he could spot any more of her clothes in the pile.

“I mean…” He thought he could see the strap of a bra peeking out from under a towel, and leaned forward as he looked back to her, twisting his neck to try and see between the wooden slats of the door. “I mean, why did you do that child?”

“Oh, that was just the beginning. After I made him dress up like a priest, I made him do… things.”

“What kind of things?”

“Oh, dirty things Father. Nasty things. Things that made us both feel so ashamed and dirty I don’t think I could bear to tell you.”

“Well, you have to tell me. For your soul.” He could see her rocking up and down on her hips, imagined her touching herself, rubbing her fingers in slow circles over her clit.

Her breathing was getting harder, and her whispers were turning from sultry teasing to gasping promises. “Well, first I made him get down on his knees in front of me like he was praying, and watch me masturbate while he begged to eat my pussy. Then when I was really hot, I mean really wet and slick, I had him take his shirt off, and got out this evil rubber flogger that he really hates. I cuffed his hands behind his back, and I had him put his face right up against me, but told him every time he licked me, he’d get a lash.”

He slid off the chair, kneeling on the floor opposite her. “Then what did you do?”

“Oh, after I made him watch while I rubbed my pussy some more I made him fuck me, right there on the floor, but I wouldn’t let him cum. I made him stick his dick in me and ride me hard while I choked him with his collar. Whenever he started to slow down, I just twisted a little.” A giggle slipped through the door, wrapping around him. “He kind of panics when I do that, and really starts to slam into me, and it feels so good, especially since he can’t cum. He knows if he does I’ll be punishing his bad little cock with needles and sandpaper while he licks his cum out of me.”

His face was pressed hard against the door now, and he could feel the cool paint against his hot skin.

“Are you still there father?”

“Yes.” He rubbed his cock through the material of his pants, remembered his part. “I mean, please continue my child.”

“You want to know what I did next?”

“Yes…”

“You’re sure?”

“Yes, please…”

“Take your hand off your cock. Put your fingers through the grill.”

His hand jerked away, guiltily, like he was a child caught by a parent, and he quickly threaded his fingers through the door.

“After I came, I put him back on his knees. I put on my strapon cock. I raped his mouth. Shoved it down his throat until he gagged. And do you know what the worst part was?” She laughed again, the cold laugh she only did when she was consumed with her lust. “I made him pray. I made him pray with my cock in his mouth, his mouth full of hard plastic dick and I made him beg and pray for mercy.”

“Damn…” He felt himself salivating, tried instinctively to shove his hands further through the door to reach her. He felt a jolt of electric flesh make contact with his fingertips, her hard nipples sliding across them, then dancing back out of reach.

“Then I took his ass, while I made him…”

He shoved hard against the door at her words, felt the flimsy barrier flex and twist in the track. He stood up and pulled the door open then, saw her standing up, naked and wet and ready in front of him. His lips slammed into hers, without thinking, until she pushed him away.

“Slow down babe, easy.” She held her hand on his chest, smirking up at him. “I need you to do one more thing for me.”

“Anything.” He was prepared to die for her in that moment.

She picked up something from behind her without looking, brought it to her mouth and took a delicate bite. “Here, just a taste. To show you belong to me.”

He took it from her, took a large bite, chewed and swallowed.

She pulled him in for another kiss, arched up on her toes while he leaned down. Their kiss tasted of lust and love, rebellion and madness, with just the slightest sweet, tart touch of an apple.

Copyright Jerry Jones. Unauthorized use is prohibited.

9 Comments »

  1. mike said,

    What a turn-on. So off-beat, sensual. I love it.

  2. littlesubmissions said,

    Thanks Mike.

  3. femsup said,

    Although the story was sexy I thought the way it was written was so lighthearted and well crafted and that this was its greatest achievement.

  4. littlesubmissions said,

    Thank you. I honestly try to keep most of these fun, because I think sex (even, especially kinky sex) should be fun. And plentiful as well, but that’s a whole other problem. đŸ™‚

  5. Ferns said,

    I loved his increasing loss of control – hot hot hot!

    Ferns

  6. lilithgirl said,

    Oh wow…..

  7. littlesubmissions said,

    Ferns – Thank you for noticing.

    lilithgirl – Succinct, but still a very much appreciated compliment. Thank you.

  8. Wendy Blackheart said,

    No pun intended, but Oh. My. God. I totally have a thing for priests. Something about being raised Roman Catholic will do that to you….

  9. littlesubmissions said,

    Thanks Wendy, I tired not to stomp on anyone’s religion, but it’s a common enough kink I still wanted to write something about it.


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