Bad Habits: A Dark Anthology - Yolanda Olson Page 0,102

waved her in brusquely. She often would take the brunt of my displeasure at not being able to get the words of my sermon to flow. I was thankful when she was put in our charge, or rather, agreed to be in our care. I needed this outlet. As far as I was concerned, she could be in training for the next decade.

The other sisters knew they needed to listen, but not all of them were as compliant as her. “Raise.” I said, waving my hands around.

She was smart enough to know I meant her gown. She raised it enough so I could see the stockings. “Take them off.”

The robe hit the floor so she was standing in her stockings only. I knew she was already used by O’Rourke, which made it so much better for me.

“Kneel on the floor, hands behind your back.” That was where the ties on the stockings came in. They would tie her hands at the wrist.

When I joined the priesthood, I knew I had an aversion, however, I also knew my entire life, I was supposed to give my life to God. So, when he dropped Julia, now Sister Purity, in our laps, so to speak, I knew I had made the right choice.

People would’ve called what my father did abuse. I called it making me a man. When he came into my room every night, taking his carnal pleasures with my young body, I wasn’t sad. He was strengthening me for what was to come. We read the scripture together, sometimes with clothes on, more often without. He showed me how to please him, and I took pride in the fact I was not only honoring him, but helping him stay safe and free from negative thinkers.

Seeing Purity on her knees in front of me reminded me of a younger version of me. She, herself, couldn’t satisfy me, but when she put on the mask and strap on I bought her, she was quite enjoyable.

I had her wear a long, hard plastic cock attached by two straps that snapped on around each leg. It fit snugly against her crotch. After attaching that, I slid the mask on her. It was the perfect face of a young cherub-faced boy. The lips were cut out, nose holes and eyes. It always made my cock instantly hard.

Tracing her lips with two of my fingers, I shoved them inside her mouth, in and out. She slurped them, almost making me moan. I hated this vow of silence bullshit. I wanted to make her scream; it was like ecstasy for me. Pulling my fingers out, I traced the scars I had made on her milky white breasts. I almost cut them off. He, I mean she, didn’t need them. Not for me anyway.

Going back to my desk, I sat down, leaving her kneeling in front of me while I finished my sermon. Just the visual of the rigid dick hanging between those legs was enough inspiration to help me complete it. In reality, it wasn't like I got inspired by her sitting there, but the prospect of what would happen once I was done was motivation enough.

Finishing up, I walked around the still figure. To her credit, she kneeled there never moving, never flinching. Running my fingers through the tuft of baby fine hair on top of the mask, I went to lock the door. The excitement of someone being able to walk in while she was in this state, always kept her on her anxious and on her toes. I loved the fear in her eyes.

I was undressed by the time I made my way back. She had been doing this for months, so even though I hated the vow of silence, in this ocassion, no words were needed. Dropping down in front of her, I backed up on all fours so my back was to her. When I stopped, she bent her head down to lick my hole. I needed some lubrication before she fucked me. This was the first time her hands had been tied, but I needed to act out a scene from my childhood.

She was smart, wedging her face in between my cheeks shoving her tongue in. My hand gripped my length, stroking it. “Now.” I managed to croak out.

She lined the tip up, and tried to put it in. It was harder without her hands so I helped her guide it in. Grunting as she pushed as far as she could, I