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Cardinal Sinner (Divine Domination Book 2)

Page 5

by Megan Michaels


  She felt so ashamed and uncomfortable with the mild chastisement. “It hurt and I just couldn’t help it. I had to cover myself.”

  “But you’ve had much worse spankings and you controlled your hands. I thought you were better with that.”

  “Your hand is so hard. I think you spank harder with it, Sir.”

  Petr nodded his head silently. “It’s possible. I may have to watch for that.” He pulled in a breath through his nostrils. “I’ll take it under consideration. So why did you growl at me, bad little Elinka”

  “I didn’t want to be switched for trying to protect myself, and you know how I hate the leg cuffs, but you were going to do it anyway.” She scrunched her face up at him, hoping it looked more adorable than bratty.

  “Fix your face.” He waited for her compliance. “You must not be sore enough from your spanking. Is that what I’m to assume?”

  “N-no, Sir.”

  “Time will tell, won’t it?”

  She nodded reluctantly. The last thing she needed was another discipline session.

  He lightly patted her left cheek. “Tell me, Elinka, am I only Your Eminence at church or for you also?”

  She tilted her head, unsure where he was going with this. “You’re a Cardinal at all times, so Your Eminence is a title that doesn’t fade for you.”

  “Ahh. Is that so? Do you believe that?”

  Damn!

  “But that isn’t for this, is it?”

  “I don’t know. You tell me.” He raised his eyebrows, obviously curious what her response would be. “Did you agree that I’m your Dominant? And if so, how do dominance and eminence flesh out in our relationship?”

  Fuck! He has me over a barrel, so to speak.

  “Yes, I like you in charge, and you’re my Dominant. But eminence is your title, and it means you are above everyone, having reached a level that is superior.”

  He nodded again. “And am I eminent to you, or just everyone else?”

  She sighed, she was sunk and she knew it—there was no way around this. “Well, yes, of course you’re dominant and eminent to me at all times.”

  She watched him put his finger to his lips, making a big show of thinking about this even though he’d likely formulated all of this while she was in the corner. “So that would put me as the person in control of your behavior and punishments, and someone who is superior, that you answer to my edicts on how and when punishments are handed out. Correct?”

  “Yes, Sir.” She dragged out her answer in defeat.

  “Well, that didn’t sound very enthusiastic at all. Nope, as a matter of fact, that sounded pretty mundane and definitely non-celebratory.” He shrugged. “It’s no matter to me whether you say it happily or begrudgingly, as long as we both agree that I’m in charge of your punishments, and that means I’m in charge of whether you wear cuffs on the spanking bench or not. Correct?”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “So, looking back while you stand here with a throbbing ass, what would have been the appropriate way to convey your distaste to me versus growling like a rabid dog?”

  “I could have said, ‘Sir, I promise I’ll be good; can we not put the leg cuffs on?’”

  “That would have worked nicely. I hope the lesson has been learned.”

  “I’ll do my best.”

  “See to it you do. Now up on the bed. I want to see your red ass while I fuck you. Head down.”

  Pressing her knee into the mattress, she bounced up into the high bed, resting her face on the cold bedspread with her bottom up as requested.

  He climbed up behind her, his hairy thighs pressing against her smooth ones, sliding his cock along the seam of her buttocks.

  She rocked her hips, pressing back, encouraging him to enter her, wanting it quick and fast. A spanking always did this to her; she found herself barely able to contain her orgasm, ready to explode at any moment.

  He slid his penis through her slick lips, the moist sounds filling the room as well as her spicy scent. “Girl, you’re dripping.”

  After several swipes through her labia, he thrust himself into her up to the hilt. His finger brushed, circled, and rubbed her clit, pistoning his hips, their flesh slapping fast and furious.

  Climbing rapidly, her breathing increased in pace and rhythm with his cock pounding into her. She rose up on her hands, rocking violently, forcing his penis to nudge the mouth of her womb until she keened loudly, whining with each stab of him until she saw blinding light behind her closed eyes and her shouts of ecstasy ripped through the air.

  She continued to slap her ass against his hips, milking him with her spasms, her body shuddering. He flipped her quickly onto her back, jumping off the bed before he could come, his cock barely moving it was so rigid, pressed against the taut flesh of his lower belly.

  She watched the bunched muscles of his buttock flexing, the heavy ball sac between his legs hard and tight against his body, ready to explode. He pulled her roughly to the edge of the bed, her head hanging off the edge.

  “You’ll keep your hands away. I’ll direct this blow job. And as a reminder, I want you to hold this.” He took his red beanie off, placing it over the pouch of her sex, the small fabric hugging her plump mound. “Keep this pressed against your dripping, hot cunt. I want to smell your juices when I wear it again, the scent of your pussy keeping my cock hard all day.”

  Dear Lord! Will I go to hell for this? Forgive me.

  She cupped both hands over the soft red silk, sliding along the fabric, her clit commencing to throb again, her juices letting down. If he wanted her juices on his hat, it felt like she may drench it.

  He eased his hot shaft into her mouth, the smell and taste of her juices sweet on her tongue. Pressing insistently, he prodded the back of her throat, sliding incrementally down the back of it—her gag reflex kicking in, but she quickly breathed deep through her nose, the nauseating gag fading. His balls and wiry hair brushed gently over her face, his soft belly and chest hovering over her, his hands braced on either side of her head directing and guiding her mouth and head.

  “I’m coming, girl. Take a deep breath.”

  She did as requested and he jabbed his cock into her mouth and throat, and with a shout upon his release, he spurted stream after stream of come down her throat before pulling back, allowing her to catch her breath. The last few drops of come with the final thrust landed on her tongue, the salty thickness coating her mouth. She swallowed the rest, licking him softly, making sure to clean the whole of him.

  Her hands were still on her pussy, but with the activity, she’d become fully aroused again, rocking her hips and gyrating madly against the round of silk.

  A chuckle above her had her opening her eyes. Petr leaned forward pulling up his beanie, which, as she suspected, was almost dark red soaked with her juices. He brought it to his nose, closing his eyes with a deep inhale. “This will be like heaven. Thank you, Elinka.”

  “Yes, Your Eminence.”

  He kept her dangling over the edge of the bed, straddling her body. His now semi-flaccid cock and relaxed heavy ball sac were over her face as he proceeded to lick and suck her into another orgasm.

  He dipped his tongue between the labia, poking and flicking the tight little nub, her hips jerking in response. He held her hips tightly with his hands, forcing her to hold still. But to her credit, she did not growl.

  She licked and nibbled on his cock and balls, rubbing the sac and his perineum lightly, pleased when his whole body would jerk in response. But when he jammed his tongue and his finger into her anus simultaneously, she stiffened, her body going taut. She screamed with her release, the growl so long and deep in her throat that it felt raw, burning with the irritation.

  Her body jerked uncontrollably for a while until she felt semi-unconscious, her head still hanging over the edge of the bed.

  The bed dipped and he tugged her up onto the pillows, pulling a blanket up to cover both of them, and spooning with her, playing with her breasts, kissing and plu
cking them with his fingers, nipping at her flat belly, waiting for her to open her eyes. She could feel his eyes on her but seemed totally unable to control any impulses or make anything work.

  But when he brushed his fingers lightly on the inside of her hips, tickling her, her eyes flew open as her knees came up to protect herself. “Doooooon’t!” she whined loudly at him.

  “Oh, so you are alive. I was beginning to wonder.” He couldn’t seem to keep his hands off her body, stroking her everywhere. “Tomorrow, the limousine will pick you up at seven-thirty in the morning. Do not be late. We’re on a tight schedule.”

  “Yes, Sir. Remember, I’m the one who made the itineraries; I know what time we are coming and going for everything. I’m supposed to remind you.” She couldn’t hold back the giggle. The man just had to be in control—at all times.

  “I know you made the schedule, but you’re not known for always being on time—or for behaving, for that matter. You’ll remember to behave at your parents’ house. I’ll have you cut a switch at the hotel or from your parents’ just in case. I mean what I say, girl. I won’t hesitate to stripe your ass while we’re there. Behave!” He wagged his finger at her.

  “Maybe I’ll forget to cut them…or maybe I won’t have a knife.” She grinned widely at him, pleased with herself, even more pleased to see the corner of his eyes crinkle and his dimple show on his cheek.

  “That does it. I’m bringing my own knife and this little show of impertinence will be added to whatever sins you commit there.”

  “No fair! What makes you so sure I’ll misbehave?”

  “Is the Pope Argentinian, girl?”

  She snorted in response but couldn’t help but laugh when he was overtaken with a full belly laugh watching her.

  It’d be a long trip if he decided to use a switch on her.

  Chapter 7

  The two-hour flight from Rome to Prague had them getting there by lunchtime, and, as Eliska had orchestrated, the limousine was waiting for them at the airport.

  Travel had become cumbersome, much more than when he was a priest. First, the bright red silk cassock with his mozzetta, the elbow length cape worn over the top, along with his red skull-cap covered by the red biretta, the square cap with four horns or points symbolizing his doctorate in theology—it was, of course, a distinction that only those in the Church knew. But it is difficult to not draw attention when you are donned in red silk from literally the top of your head to your red silk slippers.

  The faithful would bow to him, some kissing his ring, others calling him “Father” or “Your Eminence” depending on their understanding of Roman Catholic protocol—which, over the centuries, had become increasingly difficult to keep up with.

  Petr longed for the days when he could don civilian clothes, even if he wore the priestly black shirt and black pants minus the collar. Traveling was wearisome enough without constant fanfare. Yet he understood that many saw it as an opportunity of a lifetime to have a perchance meeting with someone they considered so holy. He made sure to speak kindly, offering a quick prayer with them before finding refuge with Elinka and Jakub.

  Jakub sat up front with the driver, giving him instructions to Eliska’s house, leaving the two of them alone in the back of the sleek black car. With a privacy screen, they didn’t have to worry about anyone hearing them. They both sighed in relief as soon as the doors shut, quickly becoming entangled, kissing deeply with their hands roaming and seeking skin beneath each other’s clothing.

  Petr broke from the embrace first, shaking his head. “We can’t do this. Not now. We’ll be at your parents’ house soon and I need to be on my best behavior, not imagining you naked over my lap or bent over the bed.”

  “Not actually a bad thought if you ask me.” She gave him a devilish smirk, her eyes sparking with mischief.

  He narrowed his eyes toward her. “I didn’t ask your opinion.” He wagged his finger at her. “And you’ll behave, little girl.”

  She squirmed her tight-skirted bottom on the seat, obviously not taking his threat seriously. Instead, finding it arousing. The vixen would be the death of him.

  “You’re going to be some trouble, I can see.” Pointing toward her purse, he continued, “I know you have your pacifier in that bag, ano—I mean, yes?”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “Take it out.”

  Her eyes widened, but she took it out, handing it to him slowly.

  “Lift your skirt to your waist and bend over the seat.”

  “Oh, Petr!” She whined petulantly, but obeyed nonetheless. Gracefully, she slid to the carpeted floor, slowly hiking her skirt up over her bottom before looing at him with pleading eyes for direction.

  “I’ll take care of the rest. Bend over the bench, face on the seat.” He ran his hands over the silky smooth black stockings that covered her panty-covered ass and those shapely legs. As his hand found her core, moist heat emanated from her sex. Cupping her fully in his hand, he gave the soft plump flesh a gentle squeeze.

  Hooking his thumbs into the elastic waistband, he tugged on the binding, tight pantyhose, struggling to get them over her bottom, leaving them tightly pressed into her thighs. “I don’t know how you women wear these things. Don’t you get stomachaches from them? They’re so tight!”

  “It’s the price we pay. And I think you men feel they’re worth the price of admission. You in particular seem to enjoy my legs much more in pantyhose than bare.”

  He growled, hating to agree. “I do enjoy stockings, but it doesn’t mean they have to be this uncomfortable on you.” His fingers whisked her panties down to meet the stockings, her bottom jiggling with the motion.

  Her bottom had a few marks from last night, a couple of small bruises, spider veins, and a red mark on her hip. Petr pressed his fingers into the spots, checking for tenderness, Eliska only shifting when he pressed on one particular bruise. Tsking loudly, he shook his head. “This is what happens to naughty girls, right, my little Elinka?”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  Slipping his finger into her pussy, he moaned. “That hot cunt of yours is always ready and dripping.”

  Pushing that plump bottom back onto his hand, she moaned when his finger delved deeper into her channel.

  He quickly found her g-spot, skating his finger along the spongy tissue. Her hips bucked and thrust, grinding along the bench. He had no doubt that she coated the soft white leather with her juices, the shaved soft skin of her pussy sliding along the surface.

  Once his hand was coated liberally, he extricated his fingers, transferring the nectar to her pink glass plug. The glass pacifier was small enough and her body was familiar enough with it that no warning or hard work was required inserting it.

  Nudging her bottomhole, he jabbed the glass tip past the muscled barrier and seated it fully, the puckered entrance closing tightly on the neck of the glass toy. He tapped the flowered end, watching her anus spasm before tugging on it to test that it was completely and fully in place.

  “That should assure that my girl minds her manners. Do you think you’ll be an obedient and respectful girlfriend as well as daughter with this ‘minder?” He twisted the flower slowly clockwise, watching her hips swivel, her keening bordering on pain and arousal. His cock loved knowing that he was the root of her struggle.

  “Yes, Your Eminence.”

  “Good girl!” His finger circled her clit slowly. “Maybe we’ll add your release as an assurance that there is no tension in your body, taking away all excuses if you should decide to be a bad girl.”

  “I won’t. Oh God! I’ll be a good girl, I promise.” Her cheeks were flushed with her excitement.

  He pumped his finger within her while teasing her clit simultaneously. Her hips jerked spasmodically, grinding on the heel of his hand, her hungry cunt squeezing and pushing back to take him deeper and deeper into her.

  Petr wasn’t sure how his cock would survive this, but it was about her needs and assuring that she had the best visit with her family that h
e could give her, and part of that was making sure she was calm, relaxed and able to enjoy her family to the fullest.

  She began to repeat “Oh God! Oh God!” Over and over until she stiffened, the walls of her cervix constricted tightly over his fingers, and she growled a long howl, her body convulsing with each aftershock, until she collapsed, sated and sweaty, eyes closed, her breathing slowly calming to normal.

  Wiping his fingers on her hips and thighs, he slowly dragged her panties back into place and began the chore of hiking and tugging the pantyhose back over them. “While we’re here, you’re going to purchase some thigh-highs. I don’t want you in this vice-like material. It just…it can’t be good for you to wear those all day.”

  Expecting that she’d murmur a docile “Yes, Sir,” it surprised him when she started to laugh. “What’s so funny?”

  “It’s just…you’ll paddle my bottom until I have bruises and can’t sit well, but pantyhose make me too uncomfortable.” She giggled again, lifting her head to look at him directly before letting her face rest on the seat, crumpling in peals of laughter again.

  He supposed it did sound ridiculous, but he’d be damned if he’d let a piece of material cause her pain or injury. “That’s different. You end up with a sore ass because you asked for it, and as your dominant, it is my job to assure that you behave and mind the rules we’ve come up with for you. But these, they are not part of what I want. I don’t doubt for a second that these are a punishment, but one I haven’t approved. I have ways of binding and restricting your movement, but these aren’t part of my plan.” He shook his finger at her. “Mind me on this. I want thigh highs by tomorrow, ano?”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  Eliska watched as her parents, Viktor and Tereza Petrov, as they gushed all over Petr. And for once, she was able to see him blush with embarrassment. He didn’t expect the two of them to kneel in their entryway to kiss his ring. The normally calm and unflustered man seemed rattled by it.

  “Please, please. Rise. You’re like family to me. It feels so unnecessary.”

 

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