Sins and Saviors

Fiona moaned, and begged him to release her. But Father Lucian knew better- the demons were awaking now, and she would never be saved if he quit halfway.

She began to scream, and cry, and beg, so he picked up the panties he gagged her with earlier, shoving them back into her mouth to muffle her. Then, it was one finger again, two, three... he thrust in and out, mercilessly, roughly, and she sobbed and pushed as best she could back into his hand, her eyes begging him to do more. Four fingers were slipped in, and her legs began to shake. Father Lucian was glad he had chosen sturdy chairs for his office, or it would have broken under her thrashing. He continued to rub her clit, and Fiona shook her hair, now wet with sweat. Her shirt clung to her breasts, and she was embarrassed by her erect nipples. Was her excitement just proof of evil living inside her? Father Lucian seemed to think so, for he began to shake a bit himself, murmuring prayers under his breath. His face was flushed, his shirt sleeves rolled up around his biceps. The devil, she reasoned, must be very deep indeed- but oh! How good he felt! She prayed God would forgive her enjoyment of such a punishment, and hoped He would no longer tempt her with such evil.

But Father Lucian was not finished. He removed his fingers, which were now quite wet indeed, and pressed his palms together as if in prayer. One glance to the ceiling, a deep breath... and he spat on his hand, putting all his fingers together. He met her eyes, green into brown, and said sternly, "I must reach inside you now, and rip the devil from your womb. Forgive me," and he thrust.

She was glad for the panties then, and for being tied down, for she screamed and struggled and cursed and cried. His hand was merciless, plunging into her, so deep, so amazingly ridiculously deep! Fiona could not believe he could fit his hand inside her, it seemed so impossible. But he plunged on, bigger, bigger, bigger! She felt so full, so much pain, behind her eyes it was red, and white, and black. His hand, she could feel it forming a fist inside her, as he pushed until he could push no further, and then, he stopped, letting her get accustomed to it.

If she could speak, she knew it would be in tongues, for she could no longer recall how to form words. Her tongue seemed not to function as it ought. She felt completely controlled. From somewhere within her... Fiona knew this had been what she needed all along. To be powerless in the hands of someone bigger and stronger than she, someone who could see past the snippy schoolgirl to the scared little girl inside. Someone who would guide her, and show her the way. Father Lucian knew, and she was glad.

Then he began to move, his arm like a juggernaut, advancing, falling back, advancing... Her body heaved with each thrust, her breasts slapping against the wood each time he pulled his arm back. She began at a low moan, quickly becoming a long, drawn out scream, until her voice was hoarse. He, meanwhile, mumbled prayers and chants, eyes closed, almost as if in a trance, his fist pounding into her as he rocked forwards and back. Their voices entwined into animal like wails, moans, and grunts as they moved. Fiona felt her body ride through orgasm after orgasm, each bigger and more mindblowing than the last. And still his hand ripped through her, into her very core! She screamed, one long tone, and her body, exhausted from its efforts, fell limp. "No more," she whispered, "no more..."

Right when she felt too tender, too tired... the hand slid out, and she gasped, feeling empty from the loss. Fiona floated, aimlessly, and wondered if she'd ever find her way back to Earth, and if she minded. Then hands, warm hands, caressed her cheeks, grounding her. They smoothed her hair and comforted her, removing her gag. Her pussy was sore, she was sure, but she felt disconnected, almost as if the bliss flooding her body was from something separate. "This must be what the saints always spoke of," she thought dreamily, "this state of euphoria, this peace with everything."

Father Lucian asked, "Are you ready to be released, my dear? Are you ready to renounce these affiliations with evil, and be purified?"

She sniffled and nodded, whimpering. Every part of her burned like hellfire. She was ready for redemption. He kissed her forehead, and with the knife, long ago discarded on the table, he cut her free. Father Lucian massaged her sore joints and limbs, making soothing noises as she caught her breath and wiped tears and sweat from her face. Fiona felt a bit embarrassed about her lack of panties, and resolved to fix the obscene hems back to code. She tried to pull her skirt down further in shame, but he stopped her, looking at her kindly.

"My dear, never mind that now. Kneel with me, and we will offer up our thanks to the Lord for ridding you of such temptation."

They knelt and prayed, Fiona giving heartfelt thanks for her current state of tranquility and thanking God for showing her the joy of submitting to a man. She thanked God, too, for sending her such a pious man who did not take advantage of her state and rape her, promising she wouldn't stray again. Father Lucian helped her to her feet, wrote a note of explanation to her parents omitting the crimes committed so she wouldn't be in trouble, and walked her to the entrance of St. Martin's. He held her shoulders before she could leave, using one hand to tip her chin up to face his eyes.

"My child... go now, and be at peace. And remember... if ever the Devil taints your heart again... you may come to me, and seek redemption. My door is always open to you."

Her brown eyes brimmed with tears, and she hugged him. "Thank you, Father, oh, thank you! I'm so sorry I was so impudent... so sorry!"

He let her hold him for a few more minutes, and gently pushed her away. "Your parents will be seeking you out. You must go."

She nodded, turned, the breeze lifting her skirt just a trifle and making them both acutely aware of her pantiless state. She blushed, and hurried to the sidewalk, heading home.

Father Lucian waited until she was no longer in sight, and lifted his hand to his nostrils, inhaling deeply. He had not had such a penitent soul in some time. Wicked though it was... he quite sincerely hoped she would sin again.