Chapter 46
CHAPTER FORTY-SIX
LUCA
I ’m giddy and can barely sit still as the car I’d gotten us gets us closer to the club I found via the Festishlife website that Ardesia had so willingly given me the other night at dinner. I searched the damn site high and low for the perfect fit for Sloane and me and found a club that moves around quite a bit. They’re New York-based but travel the country, renting out venues and spaces for one night at a time only. Luckily, they’re in town tonight, and Sloane agreed to go with me.
“Will you stop squirming? You’re making me nervous,” Sloane says, a sinful grin on her painted lips.
“Sorry. I’m just so eager for you to see where I chose.”
She bites her bottom lip. “So am I, but you know you could just tell me.”
I shake my head.
No way in hell, I’ll tell her. I’m too fucking impatient to watch her reaction to seeing the place for the first time. The post in Fetishlife had photos attached, and I knew after only seeing two of them, it was perfect for us. Thank you for giving back some of the power she’s lost over the years with everything that’s happened to her.
After I talked with Ardesia about my dream, he suggested starting a club to let her try taking the reins a bit.
Even though all my dreams are of me dominating Sloane, when she mentioned binding me to a cross, I salivated at the idea. That night, my dreams were forever changed, and I’d woken up hard and willing to do anything to make that dream a reality.
Of course, this could go wholly wrong. She could hate it.
Nerves swim in my stomach, and I swallow audibly.
Sloane’s small hand in mine gives a squeeze of comfort, and I feel it like a whole-body awakening.
The car slows to a stop, and I turn to her.
“You’re sure you’re okay with this?” I ask.
She laughs, eyes lighting. “Damn, Luca, which club did you choose?”
I smile. “A holy one.”
Her pupils dilate with excitement as security opens my door, and I step out, reaching for her.
On the outside, Benediction looks like an unassuming, abandoned building. However, once we’re past security and the front desk, the space is open and beautiful.
Every surface is dark, from the black walls to the deep cherry floors. There are couples in the seating areas. Some men have women over their laps, hands spanking them as they count out their punishment.
There are spanking benches, pews with couples already in mid-sexual encounters, confessionals with signs on the door that say occupied or vacant, and a St. Andrews cross that mimics the holy cross of the church at the head of the room. It’s on a makeshift apse over the pews where screams of pleasure rip from a woman riding her Dom as he pulls the nipple clamps off her breasts.
“What is this place?” Sloane asks breathlessly, turning to look up at me.
I grin. “ Benediction. ”
She fights a smirk. “Oh, Father Russo, you did well.”
I incline my head. “Thank you. Now, the question is, what do you want to do first?”
She looks around, eyes lingering longingly at the unoccupied cross on the apse. “Feel like being on display, Father Russo?”
I can’t help but bite my lip. “I’ll do whatever you want me to, my little dove. You know that.”
She leads me to the apse, slowly removing my clothes as she gives me kisses that have my head spinning. When I’m fully naked before her, she backs me to the cross. There are straps on each point for my arms, and my feet are strapped to restraints on the floor that go over the tops.
I test the straps over my wrists, feeling entirely at her mercy as a speck of nerves wavers in my stomach. Not that I don’t trust her, but it’s only natural to be anxious when someone ties you up.
Giving control to someone else takes a lot of trust, and it’s why she’s the only one I’ll ever hand this kind of power to.
“How do you feel?” Sloane asks, sliding her hand over my pecs as she toys her hand through my chest hair.
My cock is throbbing between my splayed legs, begging for her attention.
“A little tense,” I admit.
She smiles. “Oh, Father Russo, don’t question your beliefs about me. You’re my sacrifice, after all. I want you willing.”
My grin drops at her words. “Oh, I’m willing.”
Her hand skims over the hair leading southward, then finds my cock, stroking two mind-numbing times, making me breathless. “Oh, I see that.”
“Please,” I beg, groaning as she thumbs over my gleaming slit, gathering the pre-cum already beaded for her.
When she falls to her knees, swirling her tongue around the pronounced head of me, my mouth drops open as I look down at her, pleading with each ounce of air in my lungs for her to keep going.
“Want me to worship you, Father Russo?”
“Sloane,” I implore.
“Yes, Father?”
Fuck.
Seeing her with power purring through her like the high-power roaring through an engine is addictive. Even while she’s on her knees at my feet, she’s in utter control, and she knows it.
“You said I was a good boy,” I manage. “Remember?”
She slides her tongue down my shaft, alluringly slow, eyes never leaving mine. There’s hellfire dancing in them, and I want to fucking touch it.
“I did say that,” she says, teasing her hot tongue back down my shaft to the tip, easing my cock into the heat of her wicked mouth.
“Please, fuck…” My moan clambers over the club, weaving together with those of the rest of the sinners here tonight.
She gags on me, popping back off my dick and looking up at me with watery eyes. “So you think being my good boy earned you something?”
“Goddamnit, I hope so.” My voice is meek and supplicating.
She chuckles, dropping further, eyes filling with curiosity as she presses forward, watching for my reaction as she sucks one of my testicles into her mouth.
I arch off the cross as far as I can, head lolling back as I urge her to keep going. “Please, God…”
She continues, moving on to the next one before pulling them both into her mouth as her hand slides up and down my shaft, drawing me closer to an orgasm I both want and don’t want at the same time.
I want to stay with her forever; surely, this is my heaven.
As she makes her way off my balls and puts her mouth over my cock again, she reaches beside the cross for something. I can’t focus on whatever it is because she’s bobbing her perfect mouth on my length like she needs my cum—like she’s starving for it.
“Sloane, slow down,” I beg when my arching hips disagree with the pleading.
She doubles down, adding a hand behind her mouth, twisting and jacking me as she sucks me expertly. It’s too fucking much. Each tug of her mouth takes me higher and closer.
“Sloane,” I warn, and she finally pulls off me but continues stroking quickly.
Her other hand lifts a chalice, and when I scream her name, cock spurting cum for her, she captures it in the chalice, eyes full of an immoral inferno.
“Fuck, is that a communion chalice?” I ask, trying to breathe through the aftershocks of my orgasm.
“Mmm, it is.”
She sets down the chalice and works the straps off my feet and hands, and I look at her curiously.
“Will you give communion, Father?” she asks, returning to her knees and bowing her head.
We have gained an audience from below the apse, which only emboldens me. I’m used to being elevated above a flock—though usually, I’m not naked.
Looming over Sloane, I look down at her. “Chalice, please.”
She lifts it, and my eyes dance over my cum, dripping down the inner edges, coagulating together at the base of the chalice.
Usually, I’d say ‘ The Blood of Christ,’ but that doesn’t seem fitting.
I grin as I raise the chalice over her head. “The Cum of your God,” I say, knowing I’ve solidified my place in hell tonight.
She grins. “Amen.”
She’s often watched me give communion in the weeks she was with me, and my little dove was paying attention.
I drop and press the chalice to her lips, watching as she tips it and drinks down what’s offered.
“Usually, I’d release you back to your seat, child, but I don’t think that’ll do tonight.”
I stand and set the chalice on a small table beside the cross, likely where the little fiend at my feet got the thing.
“No, Father, it won’t.”
My eyes drift over to the lectern where, on any given Sunday, I’d preach behind, my bible perched on its surface.
“Stand.”
Sloane eyes me but does as she’s told. A breathy moan leaves her lips as I swipe my fingers through her slick pussy.
“What a fucking sinner,” I grit out, cock stiff for her all over again.
“Father?” she breathes.
“Wet as you falsely worshipped the wrong god,” I accuse.
She shakes her head. “You’re my God, Father.”
I grin. Tugging her to me by her hair, slamming my lips to hers. Teeth clash, and she hooks her foot behind my leg. My cock slides against the soft skin of her stomach, and I can’t help but lean into her.
“I fucking love you,” I tell her, pulling her back.
Her pupils are so big I can almost see the light in her south shining through them. “You’d better because we’re going to hell together.”
I laugh. “An eternity in the flames with you? Sign me up.”
I move her backward, turning her and pressing her up against the Lectern, tugging the microphone down to her height.
“Luca?” she whines as I tease her pussy with two fingers from the front, teasing over her clit.
My lips edge over her ear. “You’re going to preach to them, little dove. You’ll give them the message they came here to hear tonight.”
She moans, and it reverberates through the room.
A few others follow her, and I use my left hand to press my cock down as she lifts on tiptoes and spreads her legs for me to find her entrance easier.
When I press inside her, there’s no hesitation, no going back.
“Fuck!” she shouts into the mic, and the energy in the room spikes; people who were watching now remove their clothing as they listen to my little dove’s sermon.
I’m rough with her, fucking her with everything I have as I reach around and toy with her nipple with one hand, wrapping the other around her throat. “Do you know how many times I’ve thought of fucking you in front of my flock?”
“No,” she whimpers, “Tell me, Father.”
Her raspy voice carries through the room, her screams becoming their peroration as a few cries ring out surrounding us.
“More times than I can count, Sloane. I’ve thought of you riding my cock while I told them to repent for watching us. I was a man wavering on the edge of faith when you found me, little dove, but I’m no longer that—for if you exist, there is a God.”
Her breathing encases me as she breathes heavily into the microphone, getting closer to shattering for me.
“Luca, so close,” she whines, placing her hand at mine that rubs at her cunt.
“Beg,” I command, feeling power skate through my veins at her complete worshipping of me—at the power she’s gifted me.
“Wh—What?”
“Beg your God to let you come. Or you’ll be at my feet, repenting, cunt throbbing and unsatisfied.”
I don’t know what gets into me when I’m with her, but I’m done fighting whatever it is.
“Please, God, let me come. Please, I’m so close,”
“Beg better,” I growl, the tip of my dick tingling with a release, even as I threaten to withhold hers.
“Father Russo, please, have mercy!” she cries, and the room falls away from the both of us, the other patrons, but blurs in our firmament.
“Come for me, beautiful,” I whisper against her ear, and she breaks, bucking on me wildly.
I fall back, my hands gripping her hips to keep her on my cock as I spill inside her.
“Sloane!” I close my eyes, falsely worshipping her as much as she has me.
“Luca,” she whimpers, the last throes of orgasm racking its claws through her.
I turn her, clashing my lips to hers again in a fever, and her hands dig into my hair, holding me to her like I’m her holy water, washing her clean when I’m the complete opposite.
Does she think that she’s ruined and stained me?
But what of the tarnish I’ve thrust upon her own soul?
We’ll dance in the flames of hell together, fallen father and little dove, getting one another through the complex parts of life.
“What now?” she asks.
“Now, we go home, beautiful love.”