The Church Scene #2
Am I about to bribe this woman to eat a fucking meal?
You’re Goddamn right I am. Making sure a submissive eats and drinks is part of the day job…
I’ve just never encountered one who was this obstinate about eating.
I’m ADHD—I forget to eat sometimes, too.
But what Imani has been doing isn’t forgetting.
I’m almost positive she’s not eating on purpose.
The jury is still out on whose idea that is, how it’s affecting her performance, and just how much of a deficit she’s working with.
Unfortunately, I’m not around her enough to monitor if she’s in full-on starvation mode, but guess who is about to be much more involved?
Moi (I would say it in Italian, but boringly, it’s just “me.”).
If she’s willing to lie to me about what she’s eating at this point in our relationship, she’s definitely hiding something.
I care about her enough to make her eat and to figure out what’s going on underneath the surface.
Imani glares at me, but flops back in her seat. “What kind of a reward?”
I lower my voice to a deadly tone, look her straight in her eyes, and inform her, “I’ll take you right back to that cathedral and fuck you in the pews.”
Her gasp is audible, her pulse is haywire, and I am 100% certain her face would be hot to the touch.
Hook, line, sinker.
She might still be lying to me, but at least I can get her to where we both want her to be if I bribe her with sex. I have no reservations about fucking her for the first time in a Catholic church. Kind of gets me going, honestly. Do I have a religion kink? Hm.
The food comes, and she picks up her fork.
I watch her take a bite of the dish, and nod approvingly. “Good girl. You can finish the rest of your meal without your panties.”
Imani gasps and looks up at me from her plate. “Sir?”
Smirking, I push my palm over the table in demand. “Now, about those limits…” I begin, waiting for the lacy linen to be dropped into my hand.
After all, anticipation is foreplay.
Imani
Blake leads me back through the cathedral under the watchful guise of the people depicted on the stained glass.
The early evening light slants through their panes, while it seems to make the expressions of the patrons dark as they observe two lesbians walk toward a sacred altar to have sex in front of it.
Can I do this? This meaning, can I fuck in a holy place?
Holy shit, can I fuck in a sacred place surrounded by worshippers?
Sure, the cathedral is about to close, so the crowd has either dwindled or gone to the ticketed rooftop to watch the sun sink beneath the horizon.
I’m not even religious, and this feels wrong.
Blake stops and brushes a baby hair off my forehead and into the slick strands that lead to my high bun. “What’s wrong?”
“How can you do this? You just sat here and prayed not an hour ago. Don’t you feel… illicit?” I ask them, folding my arms around my body as though to protect myself.
A sharp grin flashes on their fair face. “Isn’t it, though? That’s half the fun. Come on, Cupcake. Give in to the taboo with me.”
I gesture to the wall of glass people behind me. “Look at all these holy people watching us.”
Blake’s eyes trace the illustrations behind me. “Mm, yes. It’s called the ‘Bible of the poor.’ It depicts scenes of the good book, so that anyone can read the story through the artwork.”
“It’s like Renaissance Veggietales? I’m about to come while watching historical cartoons?!” I whisper-yell.
Blake snorts with laughter. “That’s cute. They are like that, aren’t they?” Their eyes move away from my face to gaze at the cathedral.
Oh my fucking God. The reverence on Blake’s face is too much.
They are like really into this place. And listen, I’m being a brat (water is wet, bitch), but I did honestly like sharing this place with them.
Getting to see them like this, with no pressure or expectation, just sitting in the beauty and wonder of the Duomo di Milan, is a gift that they gave me today.
So how can I take advantage of them and ruin the splendor and sacredness here by asking for an orgasm?
I can’t.
Blake’s attention snaps back to me. “Hey. We don’t have to have sex here, or even ever. You always get to safe out. We can leave right now and go back to the Village.”
My eyes flash to the black panties that are sticking out of their linen pants pocket. “Fine. Yes. Let’s just leave. You obviously don’t want to fuck me here, so let’s go,” I icily say, deciding to continue to keep my walls up. Shut up, this shit is hard.
They laugh softly, grabbing my upper arms with both of their hands and lowering their body down to stare directly into my eyes.
“I want to fuck you everywhere, Cupcake.” Every word is pronounced distinctly, uttered in that deep and serious tone Blake uses when they want to assure themselves I’ll fall into a puddle at their feet.
The vulnerability of this whole day makes me squirm under their hold.
I open my mouth to respond, but before I can, they stand erect, snap their fingers, and say, “Color, now.”
I drop my arms at my side, falling to attention, and respond, “Green, Sir.”
“Mhm, then let’s go.” Then Blake takes my hand and basically drags me the rest of the way through the imposing room until we arrive around the area of the earlier pew.
They do that little reverent-kneeling-Catholic-sign thing again, sit down on the wooden bench, and pat the seat next to them. “Come on, be blasphemous with me.”
I follow their instructions, daintily arranging my skirts around me while I sit. Looking nervously around, I shift my weight leg to leg as I open my legs, finally deciding to close my eyes.
Blake’s reproachful laugh makes me open them again and turn my head to glare into their eyes.
“Absolutely not. Here’s what’s going to happen, Cupcake.
” It’s not below my notice that their voice has gotten husky.
For once, Blake’s as rattled as I am, and that makes me wet, too.
“I’m not going to touch you above your waist. We’re not going to kiss.
You’re going to keep your cries quiet, even as much as that deeply pains me.
You will look at me the entire time, although I understand if everything gets to be overstimulating and you need to close your eyes to deal with it. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Sir,” I say automatically, staring right into those cornflower blue eyes which have started to feel like they follow me everywhere in the most delicious of ways.
Blake nods, and then I feel a hand softly brush my thigh.
I bite my lip to stop my whimper, and I watch Blake’s eyes zero in on the movement briefly, before flicking back up to my eyes with blown-out pupils.
Their hand slowly inches toward my pussy, unimpeded by any cloth barrier.
The steady movement has me breathing heavily, on tenterhooks for the moment when Blake will enter me.
I’ve been waiting for this for so long, and these minutes seem to be stretched out like taffy, time slowing while Blake caresses my skin with their hockey-calloused hands.
Blessedly (oh, that’s fucked of me to use that word under this roof), I feel not one, but two fingers enter me at the same time. I feel like I’ve been edged my entire fucking life at this point, but the surprise of it makes me clamp my legs closed, trapping Blake’s fingers.
“Do you honestly think that you’re going to get away with locking up on me while I violate you in such a holy place?” Blake taunts me, the pads of their fingers still managing to massage my inner walls despite my physical refusal.
“Fuckfuckfuck,” I whisper, opening my legs again. My eyes keep on Blake’s, and the strain of the scene makes them begin to water.
“I can feel how wet you are, Cupcake.” Blake’s fingers find the crook of my G-spot and slowly press in, making my body react with a chill. “One must ask: is it your Dom that makes you fall apart, or is it the fact that you’re so fucking wrong for wanting this?”