Chapter 9
P etra opened her eyes after her final nap to a purple and pink scene out the windows.
Twilight had fallen and she was due with her seven shortly.
She gave herself a mental check of her body and any twinges.
None. It was a godsend, that tea, having healed her up, not leaving so much as an irritation.
Leaving the bed, she walked across the room to see what was waiting for her in a large black box.
She opened it with an arched brow. “You have got to be kidding...” she said as she pulled the latex nun’s costume from the paper.
“Good thing I know how to put this on without help.” She shook her head, wondering what the point of the gorgeous green dress had been, and walked into the bathroom to get the powder.
Twenty minutes later she was snapping the latex bodysuit between her thighs. The thigh-highs were latex, along with the habit, all black with white bands. Devil was one kinky son of a bitch, but she couldn’t deny that wearing the latex made her feel sexy and needy. And this shit was not cheap.
She picked up the small note, written on black paper with a silver marker.
Meet me at the Cathedral.
Thankfully she knew where that was, considering it was Devil’s domain.
Both her scenes with him last year had been there, defiling the space with cries of need and submission.
Tonight, she would unmask the man that had her body thrumming with his need to see her encased in rubber, and she would tell him just how much he made her feel.
She left the room, tottering down to the path on five-inch heels, noticing the stone paths were lit with torches.
Night had fallen in her bid to get ready, and she stood in the growing darkness, readying herself.
The path meandered into the dark forest, and she took her time, not wanting to work up a sweat, or fall and break something, seeing as the stones weren’t level.
Ten minutes after she left the house, she saw the spire, the cathedral lit up from the inside, making the stained glass glow, both inviting and ominous. Steeling herself, she walked forward, and up the stairs to the double doors.
The walk was part of it for Devil, his need to mess with her head front and center, but he didn’t realize that while the walk was meant to throw her off, she was eager to see what was waiting for her beyond the doors. Pushing them open, she stepped through.
It was impossible not to gasp at the scene revealed before her.
The ruined church was lit up inside with hundreds of black and blood red candles, an unholy fire with the devil at its heart.
He waited at the dais before the altar, dressed in black robes.
"Come and kneel before me and tell me your sins," he told her, his modulated voice echoing oddly around the building.
She sauntered down the aisle, giving him time to look over her in the get up he had put her in, her hips swaying as she walked. As she made it to him, she lowered herself to her knees, landing on a velvet pillow, and looked up to him with a smile.
“Bless me, Devil, for I have sinned. It’s been one year since my last confession.”
"And what sins have you committed since your last confession?" he asked.
“I was lazy,” she began, lowering her head.
“Not exercising as much as I should. And I ate way too much ice cream, because I was lonely.” She thought for a second.
“And I lusted, over seven men, constantly, to the point where I touched myself more than once. I lied about a dog not being nice, because I didn’t trust the person that wanted it.
And I had impure thoughts...” she looked up, “About you.”
"Your ass would beg to differ about the exercise." There was a flash of teeth as he grinned behind the mask. "But the rest? Naughty-naughty... Before I give you your penance, I think you'd better elaborate on these...impure thoughts..."
She licked her lips and then swallowed, her hands clasped in front of her.
“I fantasized often, about you punishing me for my sins,” she began, “With the paddle.” She shivered, remembering the year before when he had swatted her ass while making her say hail Marys, “And then rewarding me for being your pious little girl.” She looked up.
“And taking that mask off you, looking in your eyes before I sink to my knees to worship at your altar...”
A low growl rumbled from under his mask. "You can kiss my cock with that dirty little mouth of yours."
She nodded, biting her bottom lip. “Can I look in your eyes when I do?” she asked him, tongue snaking out to run along her top lip. “I want to see heaven when I taste salvation.”
"You can look all you want," he told her.
Was he telling her he would take his mask off for her? Either way she was primed, ready for him to inflict his brand of pleasure on her. She looked up at him, waiting for him to move, for him to give her direction.
"I said you could kiss it," he snapped, impatient. "Have you forgotten how your hands work?"
Was it bad that his anger got her as hot as his praise?
She reached forward, parting the robes to find him there, waiting and hard.
Leaning forward, she placed her lips on the tip and then licked him, tasting the salty precum he had produced for her.
Fuck but Devil was beautiful. He was physical perfection, the perfect length and girth, and he flushed so perfectly.
Nothing overly red or purple, he had the kinda cock they took pictures of for filthy magazines.
She kissed him again, rolling her eyes up as she opened her mouth and laved the underside with her tongue, then licked up to the tip, and kissed again.
He hissed with pleasure and threw his head back, murmuring something under his breath that she couldn't quite hear but sounded like prayer.
Emboldened, she reached forward and placed her hands on his thighs as she swallowed down his perfect cock, and then pulled off, moaning as she did. Fuck, he was perfect. Running her nails across his thigh, she gripped his sac and tugged sweetly as she slipped him back down her throat.
"Tell me...how many times have you come with my name on your lips?" he asked her.
“This month?” she asked, pulling back. “Or this year?”
"That many..." He was amused. She could feel the deep rumble of his laugh as she took his cock in her mouth again. "To be fair, I've fantasized about you a fair few times this year. And God has been good."
She sucked hard, loving the knowledge that he thought about her, and then pulled off. “What’s your fantasy, my Devil?”
"I'm living it," he promised her. "Right now."
She shivered, feeling her nipples tighten under the latex, the action slightly painful.
“What would it take to absolve me of my sins, my Devil? I am tarnished and I need to be purified.” Him standing there, naked under the robe, wearing that mask.
... She wanted, needed more. “The body? The blood? Absolution in His name?” she asked.
“For him, you sacrifice?” Their parody of the faith had him pulsing in her grip.
"You need to be anointed," he told her. "So stop talking and start sucking."
Whimpering, she sucked him, working him with her mouth and hand like she knew he liked, her other hand massaging his sac, pulling and squeezing at intervals, whimpering when he punched his hips forward, taking him deeper.
Her tongue rolled as she got into it, coming up on her knees so she could take him at a more prominent angle, taking him deeper.
"That's it. Take it." He placed a hand on her head, his thumb tracing benedictions across the skin of her forehead, even as he forced his way down her throat.
Tears sprang from her eyes as he would tunnel deep, then hold it there, and she would squeeze his sac and moan as he retreated. It was a dance, one that was making her more and more turned on.
"God...so fucking good," he choked out, pulling out so he could come all over her face. "Now say thank you," he commanded.
“Thank you, my Devil,” she moaned and stuck her tongue out, closing her eyes as he anointed her, giving her everything.
He smeared his cum into her skin, dragging it into her mouth and coating her tongue with it. "Now swallow," he commanded, his fingers still in her mouth.
She swallowed, sucking his fingers and looked up to him. “Amen,” she said as he pulled them from her mouth.
"Stand up." He reached into the recesses of his robe and produced a wicked-looking knife.
"If you don't want to spill any blood, you should stay very still," he warned her.
Bending down, he caught the bottom of the dress and slowly, carefully, sliced through it.
The latex peeled away from her skin, exposing it to the cold night air.
With a shudder she kept still, but felt it as he nicked her. Heat bloomed inside her, and she bit her lip waiting for his next direction. Her dark priest had her shaking moments later.
"The blood of the sacrificial lamb," he said, noticing the blood with no apology. "Shed freely and without duress." He smeared that across her skin, too, a dark red slash across her lower belly. "Fucking beautiful."
“I am yours, freely and without duress,” she repeated after him, bowing her head. “Always, my Devil.”
Once the latex was sliced all the way open, he pushed the remnants of it off her shoulders, leaving her standing there in the latex wimple and thigh-high stockings.
"Such a sight," he murmured, walking around her slowly, taking in the view.
He paused behind her, before sharply yanking the wimple off.
The latex caught on her hair, jerking her head back, but before she could regain her balance, the knife was at her throat and his mouth was at her ear. "Would you die for me, sinner?"
“Yes,” she said without question. “I’m yours, and at your command, my Devil.”