by Poppet
I squash into him, hugging him so tight, “It was awful.”
“Why, what happened?” he demands, sounding all territorial and ready to break some holy bones.
“I had to insert a vibrating egg, and do a blow job on a dummy, and take manna.”
He gives me a naughty grin, “A vibrating egg? So you're all juicy and wet and horny and swollen and fucking fuckable?”
I shrug. I am, sorta. Plus I feel like I'm wasted after all that wine.
“Let's go home,” he purrs deeply into my ear, all quiet and confidential, then sweeps me up into his arms and vamooses like the church is under siege.
“I feel weird,” I complain, struggling to focus while he carries me to the car.
“Don't you worry baby, I will lay you down on our king sized bed and take good care of you.”
I just bet you will.
Putting me in the Land Rover he bends to plant a kiss on my mouth, murmuring, “I will lay you gently on the pages of my soul and protect you when I cover you.”
Oh my god. Okay, now you're perfect. Shoot me now before we get old and jaded and disillusioned. Before something ruins your perfection.
Getting in next to me, he starts the vehicle, fiddling with the remote control I gave him where it rests on the steering wheel in his grasp, and suddenly my vibrating egg is at warp speed, matching the car in his dash to get home. This is all so kinky, and it should be disgraceful, but somehow it's not. It's a relief to know we don't have to pretend we don't have urges, or needs, or desires.
We don't have to go to church with pockets full of guilt, pretending we didn't fuck each other to kingdom come the previous night. If this is level one of catechism I can only imagine that it's all downhill from here. It's wild, and I'm luvin' it.
~ Chapter 9 ~
I will not punish your daughters when they commit whoredom, nor your spouses when they commit adultery.
~Hosea 4:14
Candace:
We've just entered the house when a car hoots outside. Kenan has a smile wider than the moon crater, patting my tush, saying, “Don't go anywhere, and for god's sake don't switch that egg off. I'll be right back.”
He's back in no time with men following him, carrying boxes. Putting them down in his entrance hall, he pauses to tell me, “Your stuff has arrived. This is all yours my little delicate blossom.”
I'm stunned. I don't remember us buying this much stuff online, but the delivery guys just keep on streaming through the door with boxes, only interrupted when Vicar Matthew squeezes through the busy entrance, making a beeline for me.
Putting his hand in his pocket he withdraws gray lace panties laced with a pink edge and a pink bow. “I believe these are yours. You forgot them on your chair.”
He offers them to me hanging on his forefinger and the delivery guys do a double take before Kenan coming back in with a box breaks their gawking. My cheeks are burning again and I snatch the incriminating item off his finger and bundle it in my hand.
Depositing his cargo, Kenan smiles wide, striding to Matthew, “Matt, what a splendid surprise. You're staying for lunch I hope?”
Vicar Matthew gives me a sly sidelong glance, muttering, “Wouldn't miss it.”
And who do you suppose will be making lunch. One guess. The vagina in the house. The 'helper'. The one who 'helps' him get off, a receptacle for his fountaining living water. Jesus Christ!
Shoot, I shouldn't be so darn ungracious. Kenan's bought half the world for me, has taken me in and protected me from Jan's screw ups, the least I can do is be congenial and hostessy.
Putting on my frozen smile, I ask Matthew, “Can I get you a drink?”
“Thanks, do you have beer?”
I nod, scooting to the kitchen to escape his shrewd stare.
Kenan says to Matthew as I pass by him, “I'll be right with you, let me just see these guys off, take a seat in the lounge and make yourself at home.”
If I'm totally honest with myself I know I'm using denial as a buffer between me and reality. My life was just demolished and if I dare think about it I'll bundle into a ball and cry for a week.
Instead I'm pretending to myself that it's perfectly okay to move in with a man you don't know, a man who has some obvious control issues, a man who has more sex in three days than I've had in my entire adult life. Uncapping the beers, I stand on tiptoes to get two glasses, then smuggle my lace panties into the washing machine, grateful that I'll not have to wash and wear the same pair again tomorrow. But then will I ever have the joy of lace against skin again, or are the rest of my days in Kenan's house meant to be endured wearing a vibrating egg in latex thongs?
I'm angry! This isn't fair! I'm supposed to be romanced, not rescued. I don't want to be rescued because none of this feels right. My bones ache I'm so tired, this lifestyle is exhausting. Yes, it's liberating and exciting and different, but then? What happens if I can't keep up? What happens if I get tired of sexual shenanigans at endurance level? Will he kick me out as fast as he adopted me?
Pissy, I go stomping back to the enormous lounge with its massive glass wall of windows, putting Matthew's beer down in front of him with a tumbler, and leaving one opposite for Kenan.
He smiles, “Thanks.”
I nod, “Don't mention it.” Collapsing onto the dark crimson leather couch at the end of the coffee table, I leave the chair opposite Matthew free for Ken.
Taking a long pull directly from the bottle, Matthew inspects me with shifty dark eyes. He's a shark and he can smell fresh untainted blood.
He delves in his pocket and pulls out three very familiar packages, dropping them onto the table in front of me, “Those are for you. You will find the next few months to be more sexually active than you're accustomed to. You need time to adjust and we'd prefer you use contraception religiously, until such time that you and Kenan decide you'd like to procreate. My flock don't wear condoms, that's not how we were created, but in this you have the choice. We give our ladies the choice, but until you're settled in and comfortable with our community, I strongly urge you to hold back on producing a new human for our planet and god.”
I am astonished. Sometimes these dudes are so audacious that I literally have no words, so just mutter, “Bless your heart.”
If he's local he'll know what my endearment means. I need to change the flow of this conversation, fast. As we're alone, I take the opportunity to ask, “Why do you wear horns?”
He does that tongue over teeth mouth suck thing that guys do, warping his lips before giving me his salesman's smile, “I'm glad you asked. Do you know the bible? Have you ever read Genesis?”
I thought I knew the bible but after his sermon today I'm going to say I haven't a clue, because clearly I haven't a clue at all, so shake my head.
Getting comfy, propping his left ankle on his right knee, he says, “The first sons born in the bible are Seth, Cain, and Abel. When Cain was born, Eve said; I have gotten and gained a man with the help of the Lord. Genesis 4:1. From the very beginning Cain was special to god because he helped Eve conceive, which she acknowledges in that statement. Some texts even cite god as the father. Anyhow, the brothers always fought, Cain felt inferior, he felt like his brother Abel was the favorite and it overshadowed him so much that he decided to take his brother into a field and kill him. After Cain murdered Abel, instead of him being put to death for it, god stepped in to protect him, warning everyone who wanted retribution with these words: Therefore whosoever slayeth Cain, vengeance shall be taken on him sevenfold. And the Lord set a mark upon Cain, lest any finding him should kill him. Genesis 4:15. The mark god put on Cain was a horn on his head, a most distinguishing mark that most bibles omit today, but the original texts still reflect this fact. And that is why I wear horns, because we are god's chosen ones, we are the Sons of Cain, and no one can touch us without knowing god's personal vengeance against them. In Psalm 92:10 it says, But my horn shall thou exalt like the horn of a unicorn. And on the covenant box are horns; And Aaron shall m
ake an atonement upon the horns of it once in a year: - it is most holy unto the Lord. Exodus 30:10. Horns are a sign of us belonging to god, it's a symbol that we are of his divine order, we are chosen, we are his favorites and protected. Why do you suppose evil impostor Christians give the devil horns? They have taken what is biblical and holy and given the world the impression that it's evil. They work for the devil, not god. If they followed god they'd put to death anyone who hunts an animal with a horn because all creatures with horns are special to god. That includes the ark of the covenant and Cain.”
Ha! Okay then. So god likes horns; he either had a sense of humor or he's deeply into innuendo.
“And your hair?” I ask, being right nosy now that I have a chance to have a normal conversation that isn't revolving around sex.
Taking another long slug of beer, he licks his lips, fiddling with the label on the bottle before meeting my eye, “The elite don't cut their hair. It's a sign of devotion to god.”
I give him my sarcastic face, “Yeah, right.”
Looking annoyed, he leans forward with his elbows on his knees, “Candace, I don't lie. I never have and I never will. You've heard the story of Samson and Delilah? His hair was long and it was his source of strength. That's because he was a Nazarite Judges 13:5, all of the priests were, including John the Baptist Luke 1:15, all those in the line of Melchizedek. When Delilah cut Samson's hair he was weak enough to be murdered. And I quote this scripture for you about those of us who take this path, He is bound by the vow for the full time that he is dedicated to the lord, and he will let his hair grow - his hair is a sign of dedication to God. Numbers 6:6.”
Looking steadily at me, he smiles maliciously, “There are tribes walking this earth who don't cut their hair, and yet those pretend followers of god out there consider them savages. They are closer to god than all of those keeping their hair shorn.”
I jump like I was caught kissing Matthew when Kenan speaks from behind my chair, “You are from below; I am from above. You are of this world; I am not of this world. John 8:23. You set yourselves up to judge according to the flesh by what you see. You condemn by external, human standards. I do not – John 8:15” He squeezes my shoulder on his way around my seat, going to his chair and his waiting beer, winking at me, “Forget everything you were taught by sinners. Their rules don't apply to us. God's ways are not the ways outside the gates. God is perfect, they are not. God made us perfect, but they cut their hair and live in sin. We only cut our hair if we have sinned in some way. I hope you like guys with long hair Blossom, because mine is growing again.”
Matthew nods, flopping back in his chair to continue his sermon, “Exactly. As the bible tells you Candace, where there is no law, no account is kept of sins. Romans 5:13. God did not keep an account of their sins, and he has given us the message which tells how he makes them his friends. 2 Corinthians 5:19. We don't follow the ten commandments - their 'law', because we are above that level of mankind, we follow the first command. And that's why you have to go for cleansing so you can put that world and its evil behind you. We are perfect in god's eyes, he made us perfect, in his image, and we embrace that wholeheartedly. Your whole life your head has been filled with rules and regulations set out by sinners, for sinners, and reinforced by sinners. By their own actions they condemn themselves. Put your fears behind you darlin', here you are free, god has removed your shackles and liberated you by bringing you into our sanctuary, into a community of perfect humans who follow the true god, not the counterfeit impostor.”
I'm getting a headache. What he's saying is easier said than done. It's hard to drop twenty-three years of conditioning and just go along, because it does feel wicked. I was raised believing this kind of freedom is perpetrated by sinners, not saints.
Kenan is stroking his beer, making the condensation run down the glass, watching me. “You have doubts. You are afraid.”
Matthew concurs, “Ayup. There's only one cure for this. Be at my place at seven, I'm holding a gathering for a few remedial cases.”
Kenan raises his beer, toasting Matthew, “You are a blessing, Matt. Thank you. So… to what do we owe this unexpected pleasure?”
Matthew laughs, clearing his throat and sitting up straight, “You heard about today's catechism class, I gather?”
Kenan nods, winking mischievously at me, “Yes sir.”
“Well, to be blunt, I'd like to see Candace do it on the real thing. I'd like her to do it to you, now. A silicon-latex phallus isn't the same as the real equipment, and as your vicar I'd like to see it performed in the privacy of your home to gauge her aptitude myself.”
Kenan looks like he just got awarded a trophy for best member of the congregation, the smile on his face so wide he gets crinkles in his cheeks, “Sure thing!”
Um, I don't think so.
I shake my head at Ken, but he's too busy standing up to get his jeans down to his ankles, “Come on, Blossom. Come and show Matt your sensational moves.”
I glare at Matthew and he has the cheek to give me a cunning smirk while Ken isn't looking.
Argh! I'm really beginning to resent you.
Fuck! I can't say no, not after their spiel about my body not being my own and how I'm under his fucking authority. And if I get difficult I'll be sleeping in a prison cell next to Jan. Fuck!
Gritting my teeth, I get up from my chair, going back into the hallway and retrieving my goodie bag. Stomping to the kitchen I rinse my mouth with mouthwash, then go stamping back to the lounge, refusing to make eye contact with either of them.
Humiliated beyond words I get down on my knees in front of Kenan, and get to it. He rests his hand on my head, and it gets exponentially heavier as he relaxes and enjoys himself.
I almost heave when he cums, my eyes tearing when I force myself to swallow, then get up without a word, back to the kitchen, rinsing my mouth out and using three caps of mouthwash to nullify the taste.
Unwilling to go back into the lounge I check the fridge, pulling out cold meats, chicken legs with all the trimmings, and prepare a platter for lunch.
If I'm going to make it through this relationship intact I do declare I'm going to have to start drinking like an alcoholic. I can't do this sober, on order.
Carrying everything through to the lounge, I have a tall glass of lemony vodka and I'm drinking it like water. They talk, chat, laugh, oblivious to my lack of contribution to the conversation. I'm done. I mumble excuses about going to have a shower and flee, fighting tears, wishing Jan hadn't done this to me.
Oh god, I wish it so bad, but god's batting for the enemy camp.
•
Kenan:
Matthew makes small talk until we hear the shower running, and then he leans forward, seriousness marring his congeniality, “Ken, we need to talk.”
I nod, putting my beer down because my gut is now worming. Has she displeased god already? I don't need to be punished again, not now, not ever.
“Candace is going to be a problem,” he states. “She questions everything I say, and as you just witnessed for yourself, unlike the others this girl is ready to break down. She's sullen and argumentative, she's ashamed of her own body, at men looking at it, at having sexual pleasure in church. She's making us look bad.”
“What do you suggest?” I ask. I'm helpless. I want her, she's the first chick to walk into Sodom who is my type. I like them busty, petite, blonde. She's perfect, and her name is a sign from god himself. She's completely without baggage, but how do I influence her mind so she'll see this as the blessing it is instead of a temporary hardship?
“Well, I was considering that problem myself. You need endorsement, from me. God has to know we both want her here, that we're both dedicated to her conversion to him. The only way we can do that is to make her my concubine. Just like the Levite priest in Judges 20. Then if anyone dares harm her the entire brotherhood will rise up against him or her. Be it an outsider, their law enforcement, or one of our own. Even god can't rebuke her, or you, if she's u
nder my protection.”
What! No. It's too soon. She's only just become mine.
I stare at him, my instincts shouting loud enough to make me want to punch him, but I know I can't say no. If I do God will be here to deliver punishment faster than I can get on my knees to beg forgiveness.
“Ken, look, I have compassion for your dilemma. I'm giving you a week to bring her into line. She's going to fall apart and you have to do everything in your power to allay her issues and convert her. But if her attitude isn't corrected by your love and discipline, well then she's going to have to get the discipline from me so that God doesn't feel the desire to intervene. You know everything is filmed, we can't have even one member of our congregation look doubtful. She must accept wrapture or else we're going to have to force her the old fashioned way.”
I nod, I know that God checks the takes, he watches everything we do. He makes a lot of profit on Biblical Porn, and on the church services being distributed to households where couples follow our ways out there in the devil's sect. That's how our community is funded, why we're the wealthiest of all his divisions, our profit exceeding even the sale of manna. Manna is the drug of choice on the streets now, and yet Biblical Porn still manages to best it. But I don't want Matt fucking her. I don't want him anywhere near my girl. I'm as shrewd as he is, I know the ladies in our community better than he does, and I'm going to pray that they help me to deliver her from evil. I have a week, I'm going to use it.
Smiling, I stand, implying it's time for him to leave, “Thanks for the heads up. I'll do my best and we'll review the problem at the end of the week.”
He stands, shaking my hand, “See you at my place at seven. Give her daily manna, break down her resistance. She's indoctrinated by the devil, redeem her from his hold.”
“What's up with the gathering tonight?” I ask.
He smirks, the leery smirk, “Her body is a temple. Tonight we introduce her to the full potential of having it stimulated. Rapture is locked inside her, she's denying it an outlet, we need to dunk her in the deep end and prove to her that the potential she's hiding is ecstasy, that no one here is ashamed of sex or nudity and she shouldn't be either. We follow only the first command, tonight she will understand that command in its entirety.”
