Bad Habits: A Dark Anthology - Yolanda Olson Page 0,98
was making me hard again. Good thing I worked in a convent, I mused, lots of female subordinates, all willing to do what I wanted. I rubbed her stinging skin softly. Easing her to her feet, it took everything I had not to lick the tears off her face as I pulled her off my desk. The puddle on the floor was my proof she enjoyed paying penance. Her face turned as scarlet as her ass when she saw it.
I looked at her pointedly. She would suffer far worse if I had to say it out loud. Stiffly, she bent, scooping up her juices mixed with whatever secretions of mine came out with her tongue, swallowing it down.
“Put these on for your time with Father Clarence.” I smiled deviously, knowing she would hate it, but do it anyway. It was uncanny how well it was ingrained in her to follow my orders.
The stockings he had sent to put her in, had satin sashes hanging from them which would be used as an aid to tie her wrists together later.
Without question, she pulled the sheer leg wear on, one at a time. She had learned really early on not to disobey us. She sported scars on her breasts from him, and my brand on her belly, right above her pelvis.
The first time she had neglected my orders, she met the scorching hot steel, a brand I was not afraid to use on her body. I brought the metal poker that was custom made for me before I was assigned to this convent. It had a Gaelic cross on the end. I had scored logs in my fireplace for ornamental reasons but found it was a perfect way to mark her and make her understand the significance of obeying, and the horrible repercussions of not following instructions.
When I saw her bite down on my belt, as the smell of her burnt, singed skin came through my senses, I honestly believed it was the sexiest thing I had ever seen. Yet, she never uttered a sound. She shed an insane number of tears, but there was no scream of pain. I knew then – I was her God, her Redeemer, her Savior. I could do as I pleased and I would find no resistance.
Shaking myself out of my memory, I realized she was in position, kneeling in front of me, ready to say goodbye. I put my hand on her head, quoted a scripture, then gave her my left hand so she could kiss my holy ring. Normally, I would not ask for that kind of papal respect, but from her, my pet, I would ask that, and she would give me so much more.
Chapter 3
Purity
I left his nasty room feeling dirtier than when I went in. He had a creepy way of making someone feel like they were in a lecherous relationship with their parents or close relative. Rushing to the lavatory, so I could use the facilities before anyone else was finished with their prayer time, I went into the very end stall so I could stick my finger down my throat and clean myself up as much as possible.
Being with Father O'Rourke took extra time, so I needed to hurry. When the others were done with their prayer time, it was time for me to go in alone and pray for my sins. I was sequestered from the rest of the sisters so I wouldn’t contaminate them until the time Mother Superior deemed me fit to join them again.
I walked with my head down as I heard the others speaking softly coming down the hallway. The pious and mighty sisters of mine thought I didn’t know what they actually all did, the sinners they were, but I knew. I knew it all. What they didn’t know was, I actually spoke to the Lord on my prayer journeys. And once he compelled me to speak again – the immoral ones would fall.
4 Years Ago
“Julia! Julia Marchfield!”
The incessant yelling wasn’t going to get me to acknowledge this bitch any faster so she may as well calm her tits down.
“What’s up, Rita?” I asked.
“Mrs. Trumble to you, you little shit. Start answering me or I will kick you out of this house.”
“Yeah, yeah.” Fat bitch wasn’t going to kick me out of this group home. She would stop getting my check from the government each month. She acted like this was the Ritz Hilton or something.