Ultimate Taboo Box Set 1

by Alicia Castelle

  "Hеу, уоur рuѕѕу is еnоugh fоr mе. I lоvе уоu аnd will аlwауѕ lоvе уоu. This weekend was grеаt but I'd have nеvеr dоnе it if уоu wеrеn't thеrе with me."

  "Oh enough оf thаt muѕhу сrар," Nicole responded. "I know where wе ѕtаnd. Why dо you think I let all оf thiѕ hарреn? Nоw get upstairs ѕо I can ѕuсk your cock!" We rushed upstairs, hоlding each оthеr close.

  THE END

  Thank you again for purchasing this book, I hope you have enjoyed it!

  AUTHOR NAME IS ALICIA CASTELLE.

  Could I ask you a favor? If you did enjoy this book, could leave me a review on Amazon? If you search for my name and the title on Amazon you will find it. Thank you so much, it is very much appreciated!

  SEXUAL SLAVERY

  FOR THE

  PRIEST’S FORGIVENESS

  BY

  Alicia Castelle

  COPYRIGHT@2018

  This iѕ a wоrk оf fiction. Names, character, places аnd inсidеntѕ аrе еithеr thе рrоduсt оf thе аuthоr’ѕ imаginаtiоn or are used fiсtitiоuѕlу, and аnу rеѕеmblаnсе to actual реrѕоnѕ, living оr dеаd, business establishments, еvеntѕ оr locales iѕ entirely соinсidеntаl.

  “This is a grave and serious matter, my child...” his deep voice penetrated the confessional booth with the wisdom of many years strengthening them. She sat on the other end of the screen, tears dripping down her face, voice choked up, trying not to let out any weeps even though she had waited behind until each and every one his blessed sheep had left the shepherd's Church. “A grave matter indeed.”

  He was quite used to the role he'd taken in the community, and indeed that very position in the confessional. Though the mesh was quite obscuring, he'd dealt with it so very often he could see shapes and forms and figures through it fairly well, and while he might be at best a vague outline, he could see her in her low-cut red top, her plump cleavage on reasonable display, at least reasonable for outside of a church, and just barely he thought he could see a tight red skirt on her lap where she sat?

  A moment of silence took over as she didn't know what to say, her face lowering to her hands as some more muffled weeps came from the distraught lady. The man standing beside her on the other side of the screen rest an age-withered hand on his side, peering down at her, standing rather than sitting.

  “I-I don't... I don't know... what to do, Father.” She wept, sniffling, shuddering, and he could feel heat building within his loins as he looked upon the vulnerable and lost little lamb. “I'm so... I'm so very sorry... I wish I could take it back, bu-”

  “But you cannot, my child. What's done is done.” She wailed into her hands, and the man bit his lip, one of his own hands reaching into his robes, feeling his bare prick, swelling within his grasp. His balding head, the hair around it speckled with grays, continued to peer down at her. He released his cock, hidden from view only from the material of the robe itself, so loose that he'd held an erection during many a sermon both behind the podium and not, without anyone taking notice.

  “Hahh!” She gasped, hearing wood shifting and lightly scraping. The screen was pushed aside, into the wall behind her, revealing the Holy man. “F-Father...”

  “Your life has only just begun, my dear.” She looked up at him as his hands leaned against the partition just below his waist. His wise head, topped with smooth shininess, shook lightly but gravely as he looked down on her. “It matters not, why. It only matters that you have done it.” Her jaw clenched, tears fought through her eyes anew, but she continued to look up at him with uncertainty and fear.

  “I-I must... should I... do I have to...” her face lowered, silence between them for a couple seconds longer. “The Police?” She finally said, and he took in a great breath before letting it out. With her looking away from him, he had a fantastic view of her full breasts, the flatness of her tummy in the tight red shirt, and indeed her tight black skirt on her hips. He had been correct. Her blonde hair, straight and magnificent, shone even in the dim confessional booth like one of God's own angels.

  “We may have to-” her face dropped to her hands once more as she let out loud muffled cries. “-but...” her breath was ragged as she let one in, her face soaked in tears, slowly bringing herself up from her hands to look to him with a sniffle. “If we can obtain God's forgiveness...” he looked into her eyes, his face stern, serious, “... the laws of God are greater than the laws of man, my child.” She gasped, looking up at him wide-eyed with big, innocent blue eyes. He couldn't tell if she were still a teenager or not, maybe early 20s at most. “If we return you to His good grace once more,” with a voice that spoke to the soul itself, straightening his back, he gestured to the sky, to the Heavens, and her gaze rose up above him with a gasp as though she could see Him herself, “then all will be forgiven with Him, and you will be safe.”

  “Awww haww haww haww! Father! Fatherrrr-herrr-herrrr!” She fell to her knees bawling, her skirt ripping ever so slightly at the side in the process but she either didn't notice or ignored it entirely. Her hands came together to the top of that partition between them, inadvertently within utter proximity to the man's hidden but thoroughly engorged manhood. She looked up at him pleading mercy, pleading God's good graces, God's forgiveness, and through the tears and redness and fear she reflected thanks and adoration none the less for finding that confiding in him had been the right thing to do after all.

  “My child... oh my child.” His hands came to rest on hers, and she shuddered and gasped as though touched by God Himself. “My poor, lost little lamb.” Her head lowered as she wept more, shaking her head lightly. So very, very lost she had become. “There are no prayers that can save you.” It was stated deeply, matter-of-factly, as he looked down at the top of her glistening head. She looked up and witnessed his intense gaze.

  “B-b-but...” her head shuddered and shook, not understanding. “How... how do I...”

  “You must service God in your own way, your own special way.” Still she looked up at him in wonderment, her mouth hanging open, a small stream of salty tears falling from either eye.

  “How, Father? H-How?! Tell me and I'll do it! I swear to God and all His angels in Heaven, I swear to them ten times over, I'll do as must for Him without question! Please!” He continued to watch her intensely as she begged and pleaded. Her voice lowered, her muscles seeming to give out, her shaking calming to a mere shudder, looking up at him as though she were hanging from the edge of the Earth, her feet dangling in Hell itself. Quietly she whispered, quietly but with utter desperation. “Please... help me...” he looked upon her wordlessly, his eyes reflecting just how serious the matter was. Slowly the man lowered, holding each of her cheeks, and giving a gentle kiss on her forehead which had her give a sudden twitch and gasp in his grasp, those terrified eyes closing, and when he brought his head back up she looked for the first time since they'd started speaking to be at peace.

  “We will do our best, my dear. I can feel God's love within me.” She continued to look up, eyes closed, mouth hung open. “I can feel it within me, but with so much sin within you, it will be difficult. Do you want God's love, my child?”

  “I do, Father...” she whispered, her eyes still resting shut. “Anything... I'll do anything... please, save my soul.”

  “Let me take your hand.”

  “It is here.” With one still on the top of the partition, the other rose up for him to take, presenting her still tear-moistened palm. He took it, watching her peaceful face, and guided it to a pocket of his Holy robes. One that had ripped long ago in the semi-centenarian's service. The half-century man, easily over twice her age, brought her hand through the material's hole until it was at his groin. Her fingers touched the hot, externally soft but internally rock-hard shaft, and wrapped her fingers around it.

  “I-... I feel it.”

  “God is within it.”

  “I-... somehow... I knew... He was.” Without further g
uidance, she began to stroke him, her eyebrows curled up at the centre, the form of her open mouth changing, looking needy, looking lusty.

  “That's good, child. Very good. Here, look to me.” He touched the base of her chin, and she opened her eyes, her hand still stroking. “Today, you will begin to earn the Lord's blessings and the Lord's forgiveness.”

  “Yes, Father.” Her cheeks blushed intensely as her eyes flicked from his face to where hand hand was and back.

  “Withdraw your hand, and arise.” She could feel some slight wetness on her hand as she left the hot place where 'God's love' was, and rose to her feet. She looked down briefly as she hurt fabric tear slightly and hissed at it, not knowing how bad it was.

  “A sign from God, my child. Your legs open too far; are you a virgin?” She bit her lip, looking over to him shamefully.

  “N-no, Father. I am not.”

  “Mmh...” a low grumble, looking at her with displeasure. “ I see no ring.”

  “I am not married.”

  “Remove the skirt.”

  “F-Father?” His eyes opened to her warningly.

  “Do you not want God's love and forgiveness?”

  “I-I do, I-”

  “Are you not a follower of what is true and righteous?!” He could speak with such intensity and further during his ministry, and this was coming through him once more, channeling the voice of God Almighty. “You yourself say you would not question, yet here we are!” His voice boomed, a fist banging down on the partition. She gasped and stepped back, bumping into the wall of her side of the confessional, opposite the open screen. “You lie?!”

  “I-I... I...” she reached down, scrambling, biting a lip, her eyes welling up once more as she gave a sniffle. The skirt was soon lowered, revealing the base of her red shirt and... black panties.

  “Hmm...” a deep grunt. “They say a woman who wears black underwear does so in anticipation for revealing them to someone.” With her head low, she looked up to him bashfully, ashamedly. “You have strayed far, my little lamb.” She slowly nodded, closing her eyes, hands curled together before her as she shifted her weight from one foot to the other. It only inadvertently made her all the more fetching and desirable. “Come closer.” She quickly took a step forth, not wishing to incur his loud wrath within such confines. It terrified her so. “Look to me.”

  “Hah-!” He had grasped her throat, gently, but none the less her jaw lowered and her eyes closed. Her noise, it sounded like a moan.

  “I have helped many a lamb such as yourself. A 'loose woman', strayed from the path of the Lord to the path of Satan and his impure, lustful temptations.”

  She could feel tingles throughout her body as she stood before the Holy man, in the safe confines of the confessional, almost entirely bottomless, feeling his strength and dominance at such a sensitive and vulnerable area. He pushed his hand up, and she went to her tippy toes automatically though she really didn't much need to. Her open mouth gave another gasped moan.

  “F-F-Father...” it almost sounded pleading. “Ahn!” Her tippy toes widened bit by bit as she felt, with closed eyes, his free hand coming between her thighs, cupping her pussy, rubbing. “H-hahh... hahh...” his hand rose to the hem of those unholy undergarments, fingers slipped within, and he ran their tips within her utterly soaked lips. “O-ohh! Hahh, hahh, F-Father...” her hips swayed and swirled as he stroked her girlhood, a girl easily young enough to be his own daughter, and as he slipped a finger within her eyes opened, looking up to the ceiling of the little both. “God...” she gasped, before a long, steady moan left her, shaking as he fingered her cunt.

  She shook, she gasped, she tingled, as the hand left her panties. He looked at her intensely, his cock throbbing eagerly for her, and from the ceiling her gaze slowly lowered to his. A glaze in her eyes, her mind fogged over with pleasure, his transfixed by need, and their eyes locked as he brought his fingers to his mouth. Her juices were sucked off in one, slow, motion. She bit her lip as her eyes flicked a single time from his eyes to that hand retreating from his mouth and back.

  “Mmh... your sin...” he licked his lips, shaking his head slowly as lustful eyes scanned down her body. He spoke as they made their way back up her quivering form. “The Devil is dangerously crafty, making it taste so sweet.” He grasped his robe at his waist and began lifting the fabric up. Her eyes lowered to watch. “It can be difficult, following God. To forsake temptation for the good of your soul, it can leave you with a...” soon she could see his hairy thighs, thick with muscle from decades of walking. “... somewhat bitter taste in your mouth.” Up the hame of his robes rose, still, until heavily burdened and heavily wrinkled scrotum came to view, swaying ever so lightly as his arms worked at the fabric. Soon, too, came the thick root of his meaty, utterly erect cock. Pubic hair touched with gray just like the hair on his head, and his cock curved up near the curve of his slightly rounded belly. It doesn't take much physical labour to head a church, and there is so very much bread and wine.

  “Still, you must swallow it.” He finished, his length twitching at her, peering up at her, a bead of precum crowning his bright glans. So wrinkly, and he was so... old.

  “I-I've never... used my... mouth before.” For she didn't so much as like the idea of it.

  “If you wish to save your soul, child, you must. Like holy water, it will purify you.

  “M-mu...” she hesitated, her gaze finally pulling from his girthy prick to his face. “M-must?... I?” She felt a shudder go through her, one of fear rather than pleasure, as his eyes widened, his eyebrows lowered, and his lips began to part. He was about to bark at her once more. She whimpered as she lowered to her knees, feeling the fabric between her legs moving, feeling its moistness.

  She was level with it, and could smell his masculine musk, could see with such detail every wrinkle and hair and how the limited light shone in that bead on his tip. Her gaze rose at him peering down, face briefly disappearing as he pulled the robe up the rest of the way, tossing it aside on the chair in his side of the slightly-partitioned booth. Her fingers rest on the top of that partition.

  “Wh-what... h-how should-” he watched her squirm, noted her nervousness, her unknowing, she may not be a virgin but she seemed to still possess some of that church-girl innocence that he so very much enjoyed.

  “Like this, girl.” The nude man, his belly and chest along with his shoulders and back seasoned with salt-and-pepper hair, grasped his cock with one hand and the top of her blonde head with the other. She squeaked, peering back down at the dick that was bent down from its upwardly-curved state. It was as though, like the man himself, his erect cock, too, prayed up to the Heavens. Now it was lowered, she watched the bead tilt down on that glistening glans, could see the somewhat flat top of his shaft that was of course rounded at the sides as it lead down to the more roundly-curved base, and he was thrusting it forth. It all happened quickly, but to her, everything so new, it was as though in slow motion.

  Her mouth opened automatically, not wanting to be punted in the face with it. She opened wide, as far as she could. The head soon left her vision as it came to her mouth, the scent of him becoming stronger and stronger with every inch, every centimeter even. It made her mind swim, it brought heat to her nethers, to her belly, the pure scent of a man . Not like the boy her age she'd clumsily been with. Salt touched her tongue as they made first contact, his precum smearing along as bit by bit, wrinkle by wrinkle, his manhood left her vision as it dove into the cavern of her gorgeous face. Knowing she would undoubtedly gag, he did not let it go all the way.

  He ran the cock along her touch, touching either edge of her wide-open mouth as he slowly thrust. He shook his head at her uselessness, grabbing her under her jaw with the hand that had just been on his cock. She reflexively brought her lips forth, coming to full contact on his throbbing dick, and he nodded. He stopped thrusting, and with a fistful of blonde hair he began to move her head instead.

  “That's it, girl. That's it. In time I will
anoint your mouth and stomach with my Holy elixer. It may even come out your nose, which would only improve the affect.” She looked up to him briefly, eyebrows risen in the middle. She went to hold his hips, hesitated, not knowing if she should touch him or not, and resigned to put them back on the partition. As he released her head, she stopped, her eyes looking from one side to another before looking back up, and upon seeing his impatient and disappointed face began rocking her head back and forth. “Good, good. Keep it up. Yeeeeees.” His deep voice rumbled, “I will was you of sin, from the inside out. One... hole... at a time.” She gave a moan, likely more of worry than of pleasure, as she continued on his cock.

  It took many minutes and a stiff neck, even a bit of thrusting violently in her mouth causing a gag or two, but soon her hands rose and shook openly in panic as she felt it throbbing and twitching within in, shooting hot and thick liquid crazily in her mouth rapidly filling it. Her throat closed, the mouth ran out of room as his hefty and full balls emptied themselves, it began to leak out of the corners of her mouth and, indeed, shot through her one means of breathing; her nose. She sputtered, ripped her head back, coughing, and he instantly grabbed his cock and her hair once more, pulling her back, and with a grunt amidst the groans of pleasure he forced a couple spurts powerfully though that dominant member to splatter on her face. She reflexively closed an eye as a sudden white 'scar' appeared along it, her mouth hanging open, whitish go with the faintest yellow tint dripping in globs to her chin.

  “Hahh, hahh, gooooood girl. Now swallow.” He turned his head so the front-most hair on her head was pulled, causing her to look up at him. “Swallow...” he spoke warningly, and squinting her fear and disgust, she obediently closed her mouth before her throat made its usual motion, the same she used every day when drinking water. This was not water, and it clung to the back of her mouth, the roof, her throat. That hot, musty, almost slightly fishy taste. She coughed, but she had swallowed, at least some, and some of the cum dribbled from her nostrils.