Forbidden Desire Ch. 02

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A serving girl feels her passion returned by the monk.
2.5k words
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Part 2 of the 3 part series

Updated 09/22/2022
Created 01/21/2004
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For a split second, James couldn’t believe what he had just said. He knew that he should have chastised her harshly for her actions and sent her away. But the hot, musky smell of her had filled the confessional, and he his lust had overwhelmed him. Maybe, if he could just change her image from an unattainable goddess to a worn out plaything, he could go back to his calm, holy contemplations without her fiery eyes haunting him. Maybe he just needed to exhaust his passion in order to purge her from his mind. He could to possess her, so that he could be free of her.

He remembered watching Lena suck her sweetness off of her fingers, and his body surged with the craving to steal a taste of her. Suddenly, he was furious at her for her temptation, and angry with himself for succumbing so quickly after his years of faithful celibacy. For the sake of both of their souls, he needed to take her, and quench the fire of their desire. He would make her cry out with pleasure tonight, and he would pray be released from his lustful thoughts.

Lena left the sanctuary trembling with fear and anticipation of what the midnight bells would bring. She returned to the safety of the kitchen, still unable to believe that she had snuck into the sanctuary and assaulted a holy man while he was engaged in his prayers and then verbally tortured him under the guise of a confession. She had never been so consumed with yearning over a man. Her wanton actions, her whore’s teasing, her slippery, begging pussy, all mortified her. Yet she wanted him so desperately. She had had no other choice. She had spent all morning daydreaming about the hard cock she had felt during that brief moment. When she had seen him enter the sanctuary, so beautiful in the soft candlelight, she had not been able to resist the call of his body to hers. She could only imagine how angry he must be at her for tempting him.

****

The bells rang for midnight, jerking Lena out of her remembered dreams of James’ cock filling her mouth. No matter what happened tonight, her memories of his silken hard cock and tangy cum made it all worthwhile. She jumped to her feet and ran to the sanctuary; afraid that she would be late, and that he would not be waiting for her. The side door she had snuck through earlier was still ajar, and she slipped inside. The vast dark room was completely quiet, and startlingly cold. Without the parishioners to warm the air, the cold had seeped in, adding to her apprehension. Just outside the alcove, on the floor, lay an ivory bit of cloth. Lena picked up the soft, thin material. She knew she must put it on, as he had ordered. She knew he had the power to turn her away from her job, to chastise her in front of every man in the building, and to humiliate her under their judging gaze, if she did not follow his bidding.

James watched from the dark shadow of the altar, as she began to remove her clothing. He had placed the ivory shift in a streak of moonlight that fell through the high arched windows, in hopes that she would stand in the soft light to put it on. And she was. She was pulling her arms out of her sleeves, her pale skin gleaming in the sliver blue light. The fabric slid away revealing her delicately arched collarbones, and a smooth shoulder. He held his breath as she began to raise the shirt from her waist. He watched as the moonlight revealed the swell of her hip, curving into the smooth flesh of her waist, the dimple of her belly button achingly beautiful as an accent to those glorious curves. As the shirt drifted up to the gleaming underside of her breasts, he lost his balance, and his hand thumped into the altar, the noise echoing through the sanctuary. He heard her gasp of fear, and saw her clasp the fabric to her breasts. He cursed himself for his clumsiness, as she turned her back on him to remove the rest of her clothing. She seemed to be attempting modesty. The wanton whore who had sucked his cock in this holy place, was now suddenly shy?

Lena’s heart was pounding in her chest. She prayed to the Virgin, if She was still listening to such a sinner, that it was only James making the noise. How could she explain her actions to the quiet, kind eyes of Father Claude or the pinched-face of Father Herbert? She faced the window and inhaled a breath of the cool, clean air. She slipped the rest of her shirt off, and pulled the shift as quickly as possible over her body. She pulled off her skirt, shoes, and undergarments, and thought she heard a soft moan, as she bent over to pile them neatly in the corner. She could feel the cold brushing against her, as though she were completely exposed. The thin material did nothing to protect her, and her nipples poked through the shift, breaking the smooth swell of her breasts with their pointed tips.

She moved to the back of the alcove, glad of the darkness that enveloped it. When her eyes adjusted to the dimness, she could just make out the mat on which he had instructed her to kneel. She could hardly believe she was going to follow through with his orders. Yet, what could she do? She craved his touch, she feared his power, and she desperately wanted to be free of this whore’s desire that had enveloped her when his arms touched her this morning. She paused, almost ready to flee, when she thought of how hard his cock might have gotten while watching her strip. Her next thought was that she should have made a better display of it. She should have slowly, sinuously removed every item, turning in the moonlight to allow him to see all of her, to allow him to lust after every inch of her body. Her heart was pounding, and she knew she would kneel and begin the Ave as he had ordered. She was a shameless slut, and she had no other choice.

James heard her begin the prayers, her melting voice making his cock harder as he fought his last battle against his shameful desire. He had been going to leave, when he saw her display of timidity. But then, she had bent over, the shift riding up, the moonlight caressing for a moment the darkness between her thighs. He had seen the lips of her pussy kissed by the moonlight. He could not leave with that image still burning in his brain; he could not leave with his cock harder than the cold stone of the walls. He knew he should not go down to her, but he could not leave her here alone, her body begging for the same release as his own. He could not leave her with only the moonlight to caress her burning skin.

Lena heard him approach the alcove, and her lips stumbled over the familiar words. She felt his singeing heat behind her, and her mind whirled. She felt his breath, hot in her hair, as he buried his face in her curls. She heard his sigh, and felt her eyes prick with tears because he could never truly be hers to embrace. Then his hands brushed her hair, skimming over her shoulders and down her arms to where her hands rested in her lap, and all she could think about were the overwhelming sensations of this present moment. His fingers brushed against her stomach, radiating spikes of heat in every direction. She sank back against him, wanting to feel his hard body against her. His long fingers moved up her belly, and stopped for an agonizing time, just lightly caressing the underside of her breasts. She was so impatient for him that she pushed herself forward off of him, forcing his hands to cup her aching breasts.

She groaned, forgetting the words of her prayer, as his hands squeezed her flesh and his fingers lightly grazed her hard nipples. His fingers tightened on her nipples, and she gasped at the unexpectedly painful pleasure. “Fail to speak the Ave during this evening, and you will be punished. Your soul is already condemned for tempting me to lust. You will never be forgiven if you do not beg for it.” Yet, she could not speak the words because his fingers kept teasing and tormenting her swollen nipples through the fabric of her thin shift. She whimpered incoherently, but he must have thought she was starting the prayer again, because his hands became soft and gentle once more. Her mind was only filled with thoughts of him, yet she somehow managed to stutter the phrases again, as his hands moved slower and her heart beat faster. She understood now that he would be rough with her tonight, and her shoulders shivered with her unabashed desire for him.

James felt her shudder against him, and moved his hands to her shoulders to calm her, immediately repentant of the anger he had unleashed on her vulnerable breasts. Her breasts were softer than anything he had ever known, and her voice crying out for him was exquisite. He loved the feeling of her body so near him. Her breathing became steadier, and she swayed back again, pressing her butt tightly into him. He let out a deep-throated groan as she rubbed against him. Then, he remembered her flashing green eyes, as she had licked her juice from her fingers. She was not repenting! She was only trying to make him crave her even more. It had not been a display of modesty. She had tried to hide her breasts from him, simply to tease him more. He felt the anger rise in him again.

He slid his hands around to the front of her throat, hearing her voice catch but continue praying, as she recognized the power he had over her. He grasped the neck of the shift in both hands and tore it down off of her shoulders. There, revealed finally to his burning gaze, he saw the swelling mounds of her breasts, seeming to glow with their own light. His hands furiously moved down over them, and her skin seemed to cling to his as he touched her without the woven barrier of her shift. He groaned in her ear, and she pushed her nipples deeper into the palms of his hands. “You are shameless!” He growled, sending spirals of desire down her body. He tugged her nipples ferociously; the sharp sensation pulled her forward, forcing her head down to the floor.

She cried out, but willingly followed the tug of his hands. She barely remembered to continue murmuring the prayers as she spread her arms out on the floor, only her feet and bottom touching him now. This new position left her pussy completely exposed to the cold air, and to his probing eyes. The cool ground was soothing the burning skin of her breasts, but her bottom was now pressed firmly against what could only be his hot erection. She felt his weight shift, and the coarse fabric of his robe scraped between her buttocks as he moved away from her. She cried out, afraid that he would leave her. A loud smack erupted in her ear, and her bottom stung. He had hit her! She whimpered in surprise, and he spanked her right butt cheek harder. She moaned and his hand whacked her left cheek. “What did I say about forgetting the Ave?”

He loved the feeling of her resilient bare skin on his hand, as he slapped her ass. He loved the feeling of power over her, the feeling that he could control his desire of her. “Please…” He heard her plead with him to stop, but his fingers felt her wetness seeping down her legs. He knew she was only trying to tempt him further. He kept up the steady rhythm of the spanking, trying to clear his head of the dizzying scent of her now completely vulnerable pussy. Her tremulous voice began to beg for forgiveness once again, and once again, he was overwhelmed with remorse. He could not hurt her anymore. He rubbed his hands softly over her sore skin, feeling guilt for the pain he had caused her. It was his fault. He had been the one running into the room, when he should have been more careful. He had been the one who grabbed her, who had nearly fondled her breasts in the middle of the kitchen. He realized had been the one to awaken this lust in her, and James suddenly became desperate to console her.

She felt him push her up onto her hands and knees, softly rubbing the sting out of her sore bottom. She whimpered again and her limbs trembled in anticipation of more spanking. She knew now how angry he was at her; she had felt his rage spreading the heat over her bottom with each slap. She felt penitent tears for her impious actions in her eyes, and yet her pussy was leaking tears of desire down her legs. Her body swayed back, waiting for his next stroke, almost begging for the next sharp blow. Then his tongue slipped over her slit, and her voice broke with a gasp of joy. Suddenly, her whole body was shaking as he licked her in smooth, long strokes, all memory of the pain forgotten in the bliss of his mouth on her swollen lips. When he pulled away, she quickly began stammering the prayer again, afraid his harsh judgment would land on her stinging cheeks once more. But he only moved to lie between her thighs, and pull her lower over his face so he could reach her weeping pussy once more. She pressed herself down onto his mouth as he ate hungrily at her, slurping, licking, and nibbling gently at her quivering flesh.

She rubbed herself back and forth over his face, his nose pressing her clit. She begged incoherently for more, just as his hands captured her breasts again. His fingers stilled their swaying, and she screamed in pleasure as they pinched and pulled on her tender nipples. She became frantic, rocking above him, his tongue darting everywhere, sucking every fold of her pussy, his hands squeezing her breasts, teasing her nipples. Until she felt the rush of pleasure, the dizzying sensation overwhelming her, and she gasped her delight as the climax swept through her body. And he didn’t stop. His hands and mouth never ceased their assault on her gushing pussy, and her orgasm built beyond anything she had ever felt. Her pleasure was climbing still higher, and when his thick tongue pressed deeply into her pussy, she climaxed again, her screams echoing in the empty sanctuary. “Holy Mary, Mother of God!”

To be continued…

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