Punishment
Lil fic about when your local hot priest finds your hierophilia blog. F/M, dubcon. Crossposted to AO3.
"Ah-ah," chides the priest from behind you, gripping one hand tightly around your wrist and pressing the other's palm against the back of your neck. "I'd like you to stay a little longer today."
You feel your breathing speed up from the roughness of the touches, your mind racing as you simultaneously try to steady your breaths and imagine why he's preventing you from leaving.
He keeps you frozen in place until all the other congregants have left and the church doors close behind them. He takes the hand from your wrist and wraps it around your chest.
"I saw your post about Ash Wednesday."
You're glad the priest can't see you contort your face in pained embarrassment. You thought you'd been careful. Nothing on that blog should've been able to lead someone back to you.
You're too surprised to answer with more than a squeak in the back of your throat.
The priest moves his hand from your neck to your lips, forcing your mouth open and pushing three fingers inside.
"Don't you feel guilty?" he asks. "Don't you feel any shame at profaning a holy ritual with your disgusting fantasties?"
He's pressing his body against your back now, and you can feel that he's hard beneath his cassock. You moan softly into his fingers.
"Is this what you wanted?" he hisses, grinding his erection against you. "I've refrained from temptations so far this Lent, but feel what you've done to me."
He removes his fingers from your mouth, slick with your saliva, and forces your head to the side. You feel his breath on you as he hovers his mouth just over the side of your neck.
"Father," you whisper, rubbing yourself against him.
You hear him swallow thickly at the sound of his title.
"Father," you repeat, with a debauched moan. "It doesn't seem like your thoughts are any purer than mine."
The priest kisses your neck, sucking hard enough to leave a mark. His grip on you tightens and he starts to rock his hips back and forth into you. "It's your fault. I wouldn't be feeling like this if you hadn't put those imagines into my head."
"You intend to punish me, then?"
He kisses your neck again and again as he bucks against you, then answers with a whisper: "Against the wall."
You walk ahead a few steps, then turn and put your back to the wall. Your priest is blushing brightly, and the tent of his cassock is not only evident but showing a small shining spot at its peak.
He stares at you, deciding what to do, then forces your hands above your head and pins your wrists together with one hand. He keeps kissing you, moving from your neck to your jaw. You part your lips obediently, wanting his mouth on yours. He tilts his head back and shakes it, tutting gently. "Not the lips. You don't deserve that. This is punishment, remember?"
You whine, wanting any kind of relief.
Keeping your arms pinned, the priest uses his other hand to pull down your pants and underwear, sliding a finger along your entrance.
"So wet for me," he murmurs, his breath hitching. He bites his lip, forcing himself to regain composure. "You're in a house of God, behaving like a whore. You disgust me."
You buck into his hand. "Please, Father. Fuck me."
"Yes, darling, I'll fuck you. I'll fuck that sin out of you, and make you see how truly sick your fantasies are."
He hitches up his cassock, revealing his erection already leaking precum. You wonder if he often preaches without underwear, or if this is just for you.
The priest isn't interested in being gentle. He forces himself all the way inside you, sliding in easily. He groans loudly, the sound tapering off into a whining moan.
"Look what you've done to me, darling," he whimpers, pounding into you. "Decades of abstince ruined because of you."
You can't touch him, you can only barely move your hips with how completely he's pressing you against the wall. But if this is really supposed to be a punishment, it's not working. Your orgasm makes your legs shake and you moan.
The priest starts fucking you even harder, his thrusts becoming more erratic. He begins to whine loudly, then cums inside you with a shout. He presses himself against you as fully as he can, desperate to fill you with his seed.
He drops his head onto your shoulder and you feel the grip on your wrists loosen.
"Don't," he whsipers as you start to move your hands. "I'm not done with you yet."
"What more do you want from me, Father?"
"I want you on your knees."
You acquiesce. His cum is leaking out of you and down your thighs, leaving a stain on the church carpet as you kneel down.
You look up and see the priest, half-hard, palming himself.
"It's Ash Wednesday," he recites, his tip twitching. "Time to think about a priest cumming on your face and using it to draw the cross on your forehead."
Involuntarily, you bite your lip.
"Is that what you think of me? Of the Church? Of our sacred rituals that honor the suffering and death of our Lord Jesus Christ?"
His voice is rising with every word until he's shouting, fucking his hand ecstatically. He's too inexperienced to last very long before he cums again, so he brings a hand down onto your head to hold you in place. You part your lips.
The priest's hot cum spatters onto your face - your forehead, your nose, a few drops in your mouth.
He leans down.
"Ashes to ashes."
He smears one line.
"Dust to dust."
He draws the other through it.
Cum is dripping down your face. You raise a hand to wipe it from your eyes.
"No. Stand up."
You stop. When you stand he looks at you, satisfied, and lets his cassock back down.
"Good girl. Now I want you to leave here, with the evidence of your sin and shame on your face. And if I find you have been profaning the faith any further, I may be forced to punish you again."
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