Bad Habits: A Dark Anthology - Yolanda Olson Page 0,45
proceed. I hover over Phillip, the tip of his dick pressing into my opening. He gasps as I lower myself onto him, taking him farther into my body inch by inch. Father Thomas looks at me hungrily. My eyes roll back at the feel of Phillip inside me and in response to the desire in the eyes of the man who denies me his passion. I wrap a leather belt around the neck of the man beneath me, tightening it.
“Phillip Slater, it has been four weeks since your last confession.” I rock against him, tugging on the belt. Phillip’s face reddens, and he struggles to catch his breath. Each of my movements are slow, calculated, meant to please. He must feel all the pleasure before the pain.
“I firmly resolve, with the help of your grace, to confess my sins, to do penance, and to amend my life…” He growls, lifting his hips.
“Are you willing to atone for your sins with your blood?” I rock faster against him, biting down on my lip to stop the surge of pleasure coursing through me.
Father Thomas watches us, his hand working his cock, growls leave his lips, and that spurs me on.
“Yes, yes. I am wiling.” Phillip’s voice is strained.
I raise the dagger from beside him and bring it down to his chest, letting the blade pierce the flesh there. I continue to rock my hips against him as I dig deeper into his flesh. Fresh droplets of blood push out of the wound and trickle down his chest. I feel an orgasm building, so I remove the dagger, still tugging on the leather belt. I press the blade down again, harder this time, struggling through skin and muscles. He must hurt for his sins. I climb off him before he has a chance to come and he howls in agony. This is his wish, to be released from what he’s done. For all the sinful, depraved acts of violence he’s inflicted against his students. Phillip Slater tries to struggle when he realizes the mistake he’s made. I tug at the belt one last time and close my eyes, listening to the sinner gasping, his eyes begging for me to stop, to release my hold on him. But I cannot. He came to cleanse his soul, and it has been done.
For the wages of sin is death, sayeth the Lord.
Father Thomas is glaring at me when I open my eyes. I wrap my arms around his neck and force my lips to his. I push my tongue into his mouth, and he finally gives in, pushing me onto the man whose lifeless eyes stare at us. Father Thomas spreads my legs and plunges a finger into me with such rage, I cry out. His palm rubs against my clit as a finger curls inside me.
“Oh, Father…forgive me,” I cry out an orgasm, writhing against the hard body of Phillip beneath me. I reach for Father Thomas's zipper, releasing the hard cock that had been straining against his pants.
“Celeste, no!” he growls, looking down at me in horror then pushing me away. Tears spring to my eyes, and I jump off the altar, gather my clothing, and walk briskly through the pews. Nothing I do gets through to him. Aren’t we sinning already? I swipe angrily at my tears. I’m startled at the sight of a man standing in the shadows. I can feel his gaze sweeping over my naked form. His eyes are everywhere all at once, making me feel even more exposed. I don’t bother to stop to find out who he is. Instead, I turn on my heel and disappear into the bowels of the convent.
When I reach my room, I shut the door and drop to my knees in a sorry mess of tears and heartache. The cold from the tiles seeps into my knees, yet I stay there. I hear the door open and shut behind me, his presence in the room sucking the very air from my lungs.
“You were weak tonight, Celeste.” Father Thomas's voice is hard and cold. “You know the price of imperfection.”
Exhaling a shaky breath, I crawl to my bed and feel underneath it. I pull out the leather whip Father Thomas gave me, my hands trembling. The solid handle feels like lead as I balance it on my palm.
“How many?” I ask, just above a whisper. I hear his footsteps as he walks closer to me. He smells of incense, and sweat. It’s a heady