“Serah,” he began, “that was …”
She kissed his palm as he trailed off. Why she should care was beyond her, but she wanted to know that David Kent would be alright once she’d left.
“What will you do now, David?” Her question was a whisper, and he only stared at her, confused.
“You know this can’t go on,” she elaborated, swinging her right knee over his body to sit beside his hip on the sofa. “Will you leave the priesthood?”
His lips thinned at this and he looked away. Clearly a topic he didn’t want to broach just yet. Serah granted him that it would be a lot to process. What other job could a person have where the loss of their virginity warranted considering a career change? If he wouldn’t talk about it now, she’d have to leave it that way. She leaned down and began to gather her discarded clothes from the floor.
It’s none of your business, anyway. Pack it up.
They dressed in silence, her question having sobered the mood considerably. He buckled his belt back into place, and she slipped her heels on, rising from the sofa. It seemed a very odd place to end things. But what else was there to do? Serah took her first step toward the door.
“Wait.”
The priest came to his feet with a quiet urgency.
“When will I see you again?”
It was her turn to wish a question had not been asked. Serah had no idea what to say to him. She swallowed down a lump of useless sentiment.
“When the time is right, David,” she lied to him.
In a swift movement, he closed the distance between them and took up her hands, bringing one of them to his mouth. He kissed her knuckles and held the back of her hand to his face as though she were dying right before his eyes.
“I'm so … fucking alone, Serah,” he said in a rush, clutching her hand now to his chest. “Don't leave me again like last time! Please.”
Oh this is not good. Not good at all.
“David,” she stalled for time, searching for words. “David, don’t.” The way his face pinched at this was unbearable. She had to get out of here. Out of this church, away from this priest, and back on the other side of the veil where she belonged. Permanently.
“When the time is right,” she repeated, backing away from his embrace.
“But … ”
“I have to go.”
One of his hands trailed in her direction as she moved to the door. Yes. It would be best for her sanity to never see his face look at her like that again. Bewildered. Abandoned.
She brought her hand to the lock, turned it. The door creaked open.
“Goodbye, David.”
Whether he said anything else or moved to follow her, Serah didn’t know. She couldn’t get out of St. Luke’s fast enough.
“What do you mean, ‘it’s not enough’?”
Serah was crestfallen, shocked, and infuriated all at once. The Fallen were unfazed.
“It isn’t enough, Initiate.” The voice rumbled and decayed around her, rolling over her flesh. “What is bodily congress to us? You thought a bout of fucking would suffice as your offering in exchange for the privilege of joining our ranks?”
She said nothing. Tried to think nothing. Serah was still technically mortal, and The Fallen would know every one of her thoughts.
An immaterial weight, vast and unyielding, bore down on her shoulders. They were trying to make a point.
“The priest must be broken, Serah. Brought low before that god of his.” The pressure increased and she was forced to her knees, as though there were a floor on which she could kneel in the void.
“But what must I do, Great One?” What else could she have done? Had They not pointed out the man’s weakness for flesh when they issued her the challenge? If tempting him to break his vows of chastity hadn’t been the goal, then what had?
If The Fallen had a face, Serah would have sworn it was smiling. She felt what must have been an expression of satisfaction slice across her back in a million lightless arcs. Her body arched forward in pain, but she held her silence. Screams were for the weak, and they would not earn her any favor. They spoke to her again.
“What is it the mortals are so fond of saying? Only the first one is free?” Their voice crumbled in a semblance of laughter. “You’ve made him an addict now, Serah. He’ll want another high. And now you must get him to pay the price.”
Oh.
Oh shit.
She’d truly thought the man had been ruined enough. That look in his eyes when he worried she might not come back — that was from a more troubling source than lust.
“What …” She cleared her throat, her body protesting under the weight on her shoulders. “What price should he pay, Great One?”
More rocky amusement, and now Serah felt something intangible prying her jaw open, nudging into her mouth. The Fallen did so enjoy toying with Initiates. She resisted the urge to slap the sensation away. And there would be nothing to slap, in any case.
“Father Kent should have to do something … unforgivable, to earn your body again, Initiate. Do you have a plan?”
They knew full well she didn’t.
The void stretching her lips apart extended to the entrance of her throat now, feeling not unlike that priest’s cock she’d so eagerly swallowed down in the confessional. Only this was cold, a shaft of ice braced against her teeth.
“We will give you time to think, Young One,” The Fallen said, using the immaterial rod of freezing cold to tilt her head back to face the black nothing above her. If ‘above’ even meant anything here. She knew then that she’d not be released until she came up with a plan to further corrupt the priest. It was a light punishment, for her failure thus far, and her ignorance. She accepted it, knowing more would likely come before she arrived at a solution. A struggle would make it worse.
What could she do? What could she ask the priest to do that would ‘bring him low’, as The Fallen had said?
The frozen intrusion pushed further into her throat and Serah’s eyes began to water. Two more just like it began to coalesce at the entrances to her vagina, her anus.
Think! Think!
The cold began to force her open.
What could she have him do? Steal? Hurt someone?
Serah knelt there, her neck straining, mind racing, ice invading not one, but three of her body’s orifices now, stretching her. She began to shiver.
Come on! What’s the worst thing you can —
She had it. It made her want to retch, but she had it. Her throat was full, though, and she couldn’t say the words.
Great One, I have a plan, she thought, knowing They would hear.
“Show us,” They said, relieving her of the cold, but leaving the filling masses intact, effectively fixing her in place. The Fallen intended to see her intentions through her mind’s eye, and it appeared she would not be released until They were satisfied. Serah shifted in place, uncomfortable.
It must be done.
She showed Them.
The stone of the topmost altar step dug into her lower back. The priest’s mouth was blazing over her throat, his hand squeezing at her breast. Serah shifted her knees up around his hips, rucking her skirt up to her waist in the process.
In the next breath, his cock was out, and he was sluicing it along her furrow, the muscles of his backside bunching under his trousers. She took him in hand, stroking.
But the priest was impatient with her teasing hand, and moved to push himself home, eager to bury his lust deep in her body again. She stopped him though, with a firm grip at his base.
“David.”
“Serah?” His voice was distracted. He was focused on a single goal: he needed to fuck. To come.
“David, there’s something I need to tell you. To ask you.”
“What’s that?” he asked, pushing into her hand, eyes still between their bodies, fixed on the wet sheath he wanted around his prick.
“I’m pregnant.”
He stopped dead.
“W
hat?”
“It’s your baby, David.”
Some of the tension went out of his thighs, his arms. “Serah, what?” He blinked down at her, completely thrown.
“Well?” She prodded him. “What are we going to do about it?”
“What do you mean?”
“We can’t afford a baby, David.” She looked up at him, incredulous, but still stroking at him. The erection was key to chasing rational thought far, far away from this conversation.
“Serah,” he said, some soft expression washing over his face, “I’m sure there’s some way we could —”
“No!” She gave him a sharp squeeze. “Do you not understand? Everyone will know. You can’t be a priest with a baby!”
The words seemed to slap him in the face. He looked like he wanted to protest, but stopped himself. Of course she was right.
“Besides,” she pushed herself higher, nipping at his neck, ready to offer him his drug of choice, “If I have a baby, how will I have time to sneak in here late at night and take this cock of yours?” Her stroking hand moved to cradle his balls and he groaned, on the cusp of folding.
The priest’s jaw tightened, eyes shut. He broke.
“What do you need, Serah?”
She named an amount. Enough for her to terminate the pregnancy. He winced.
Then jerked a nod. “Alright. I’ll get it for you.”
“Good,” she said, tearing a jagged rent through both of their souls. “Now fuck me.”
Painted statues and saints picked out in glass accused silently.
Father Kent plunged home.
The Fallen most surely chuckled now, at least that was what Serah took the ripples in the void for as she waited out her discomfort on her knees. The masses invading her body had not been withdrawn.
“Asking him to purchase your abortion, Initiate? Creative.”
What had been cold now became warm, pliable. The forms pushed into her. Withdrew. Pushed again. It almost felt like … like …
I’m being rewarded for good behavior! Like a fucking dog!
“Yes,” Their voice bubbled, “You’re our fucking dog, Initiate. Remember this.”
The shapes felt undeniably phallic by now, and they plunged wetly in and out of her. The oppressive weight had never been lifted from her shoulders, but her body had started to respond to the stimulation, regardless. A clear message was being sent, without any words needed.
You are ours to do with as we please. And you will love every minute of it. You will have no choice.
If she could have observed from outside her own body at that moment, it would have made a bizarre sight. A woman kneeling on the floor, head tilted back, mouth straining open, pussy and asshole stretched wide, clutching at nothing while she dripped arousal into the void.
Her orgasm ripped out of her. She jerked in pleasure, choked on the lesson until every hole was sore with acknowledgement. Only then did The Fallen withdraw.
Serah fell to her side, pulling her arms around her knees to hug herself. By some miracle she remembered the proper words for accepting a punishment and croaked them out.
“Great One, I thank you for your wisdom.”
They let her simmer, huddled that way for a lingering stretch before surrounding her limp body with command.
“Go now. Impress us. Earn your place.”
There was nothing for Serah to do but haul herself to her hands and knees and crawl toward the opening They’d carved in the veil. On the other side was a vulnerable David Kent.
It would have to be done.
They always seemed to meet at night, she thought, as she watched the priest step out of the modest sedan he’d just parked at the curb in front of the rectory. The streetlight made a cone of amber light over the man as he locked the door and began to move toward the building.
Serah stepped out of the darkness, meaning to catch him before he made it to the door.
“David,” she said as she approached, loud enough to be heard, but not so that she would wake anyone else inside at this hour.
His head came up at the sound of her voice, arms falling at his sides. The priest turned to face her, and now she was only a few yards away.
“Serah?” He was at her side in a heartbeat, taking up her hands. “Where have you been? It’s been two months!” The words were filled with concern and not anger; they made her cringe inside. The delay in mortal time had been required to make her lie believable.
“I’m sorry, David I … I’ve been busy.” A pathetic excuse, but he seemed to pay it little mind, drawing her into a fierce embrace. There was nothing to do but hug him back.
After a long moment he stepped back, holding her at arm’s length, taking her in. He seemed to decide something and took up her left hand in his right, pulling her toward the door that opened to the street on the first floor.
“Come on,” he said with a tug.
Serah was hesitant.
“David … the rectory? Isn’t this —”
“Shh.” He shook his head, motioning her to silence. “Come on.” Serah shrugged and let herself be led. If this is where he wants to go …
He drew her into the ground floor of the rectory behind him, shutting the door in their wake, and then turning to start up a flight of stairs she knew would lead to his rooms. It was no stone altar, but it would have to do. There would be no more chances.
It must have been after midnight, and they both crept up the wooden staircase along the inner side, doing their best to avoid creaky steps. The priest still had her by the hand, and only let go when they reached a doorway at the end of short hall which he had to stop and unlock.
On the other side, shut safely away in the room she’d seen from the other side of the veil, he finally pulled away from her.
Serah had no idea what to expect, but it was almost a relief when he moved to sit on the edge of the modest bed, a few steps away.
“Come here,” he said, patting the insides of his thighs. This didn’t seem like the actions of a man addicted to sex. He was far too sober. Still, she moved across the room to stand between his knees. Then things became difficult.
He wrapped his arms around her waist, crushing his face into her chest. “Oh, Serah.” The priest inhaled her scent. “I’ve missed you. It’s been killing me — wondering maybe if something I said, or did…” His hands clutched at the fabric of her blouse, eyes coming up to find hers.
Oh, this is going to hurt. Both of us.
“I’m here now, David,” she said, trying to brush past his concerns. “I missed you, too.” Serah bit down, played the role. She leaned in to kiss him.
There was no question of acceptance, but unlike their last meeting, the desperation was gone. He met her lips with a tender mercy, a kiss that forgave her absence, invited her home. The last leg of this race, it seemed, would be the most difficult.
The absolution of lips and tongue saw them both onto the bed, Serah climbing onto his lap at first, to feel his hands stroke at her shoulders, then him laying back for her to straddle.
Somewhere, between the gentle exploration of lips and hands, the warm press of bodies, they’d found their way under the covers, clothing long gone. He murmured sweet promises to her, such that no man should make who hasn’t a hope of marriage or a life with his love, as flesh slid over flesh. And Serah, belly tightening in disgust at what she did, whispered them right back. The pain was made worse by the fact that she wished she could mean them.
Delirium, oddly enough, was no way to stop time and, quick as madness, she found herself at the precipice. There he was, hard and sliding over her entrance, and in the haze of loving touch, of complete acceptance, Serah had nearly forgotten the plan.
His eyes were warm as he smiled down at her. She felt the guilt, the shame, a blade twisting in her gut, driving through her temples.
Immortality, Serah. Do it.
She brought a hand between them to grip his cock at the base, glad for something to still the trembling in her fingers. Th
e priest stilled at this move and she saw the question in his eyes.
“David … ”
Oh fuck, it hurts already!
“Yes, love?”
Rrrghh! Don’t call me that! Please, don’t say that to me right now!
She felt sweat bead and trickle into her hairline like it hadn’t in ages. The skin on her chest, her cheeks felt clammy, and her throat was dry. Serah wanted to whip her head back and forth in fierce negation of the whole event, but she gathered herself for what must be.
“David, there’s something I have to tell you.”
Almost there.
“Mmm?” He brushed a kiss over her forehead. “What’s that?” Another on her left cheek, then the right. He was serene, patient, not trying to plow into her like the addict she needed him to be. She was all but choking on the words.
“David,” she began again, determined to force it out. “I’m … I’m …”
Pregnant! Just get on with it! It’s not the first lie you’ve told in your pathetic life, and it won’t be the last.
But that was the problem. That right there was the hand that turned the knife. She wanted it to be her last lie. Wanted it not even to be in the first place. Her chin quivered, eyes welling.
“Serah?” David brought his knees up, sex forgotten, crouching over her, concerned, searching her face. “What’s wrong?”
The priest would see only a tearful girl, but an ocean of chaos swirled and clamored in Serah’s head. It was too much. These were real choices, forced through a mold of lies, for no other reason than her personal gain.
I can’t. I can’t do this!
The Fallen thundered into her head then, an avalanche of thought brushing her objections aside.
NOW, INITIATE. DO IT. MAKE HIM PAY FOR WHAT HE WANTS.
The will of the Great One was such that she should have simply blurted the words out on command, but rebellion sang in her veins.
I can’t! I’m sorry!
BREAK HIM. NOW.
“I won’t!” Her last cry came aloud, but she was barely aware of the startled man looking down at her. “I won’t! I won’t do it! Find someone else!”
The presence in her head expanded to fill her skull. It felt like bone and tissue were thinning out, pushing apart. The Fallen were displeased, and their disgust was palpable, painful, even on this side of the veil.
The Darker Side of Love (A Dark Erotica Boxed Set) Page 29
