To All:
This is my first submission to Literotica, so I do hope you like it. Feedback is much appreciated, and I hope to add many more stories soon. This is a great outlet for me.
This story isn't as descriptive or imaginative as my usual brand of writing (I am a gothic fantasy writer), but it works well enough for what it is. Given that it involves a bit of bdsm as well as Reluctance, I finally just decided to add it to the Non-Consent/Reluctance area, since there was much reluctance on the protagonist's part.
This story is based, in part, on my childhood growing up at a private Catholic school, and all the eroticism inherent in such a place. It is also based on my first cyber experience. As such, names have been changed to preserve anonymity.
Lastly, I am no longer Catholic (I am now Pagan) ~ but this is a fantasy, no? So anything goes. ;)
Now on with the show!
+ Comicfairy
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I chewed on the inside of my mouth as I sat genuflecting on a pew facing the church altar, gazing into the alabaster eyes of the angel towering above me. The moonlight flickering through the stained glass windows of the gothic cathedral sent rainbow sparkles across my rosy cheeks, the whimsical dance contrasting with the sense of unrest nestled deep in my heart.
I'd glanced on this angel while baptized as an infant, gone through communion as a little girl, and been confirmed as a teenager. This was the church that bore witness to my long hours of choir practice and weekly mass schedule with my catholic school classmates. Tomorrow morning, this church and all its angels would bear witness to a ceremony of a different kind and a new memory: my wedding.
I'd met my fiancée Christian while attending a performance of the opera
La Triviata
where we'd had adjoining seats. A classmate of mine was performing and I was given a free ticket, whereas Christian had treated his mother to the show as a birthday present. Such a good boy, my betrothed was.
True to form, he was everything a good husband should be: sweet, kind, considerate, and respectful. By all accounts, ours was a grand match: we were financially stable, healthy and athletic, well educated, and our families traveled in the same social circles. We got on like old chums and had a great friendship.
What we
didn't
have was a sizzling sex life or even true love. Our love was a companionate one as opposed to a thriving love; I recognized that Christian was not my soul mate or even the man of my dreams. Still, though we had not lived together as he was mindful of social reputation (he was the broker/owner of a thriving real estate firm in our cliquish suburb), we had upon occasion snuck into each others homes to make love.
The post-coital cuddling was nice enough, but the act itself seemed purely traditional and routine to myself, who had always been matter of fact about sex which I'd always done responsibly.
I knew myself to have a healthy sex drive and yearned to experience more...well, I
had
experienced more with someone other than Christian. A few people, actually, even though one person tends to stand out about the rest. Someone who, even though I'd only known him via the internet, made me sizzle an eternity more than my fiancée or anyone else ever did. He had been one of my best friends for awhile now and he had always made me feel welcome and protected and allowed me to be whom I wanted to be: myself.
I smiled a bit morosely and wondered where my cyber lover was now, what (or who) he was doing, and if he even cared about the ritual I'd complete tomorrow. I had told him of the ceremony, of course, as I'd been engaged for a year...but I was never really sure of the depth of the feelings he'd had toward me. Did he get possessive of me? Jealous?
He'd never said anything of the sort. I'm sure I had given him cause to be both~ in the time I had known him, I'd had my share of men stroll through my life. I pushed each of them away eventually, but they had still been closer to me physically than he ever had. In the past few months as the impact of my impending nuptials began to settle on me, I had even hesitated at any sort of intimacy with him, feeling that I was cheating on my fiancée in some fashion.
My thoughts were halted as I heard one of the side doors opening. I glanced up and found myself looking into the friendly face of the church Pastor, a lovely man from England who spoke with a heavy accent that had always brought a smile to my face.
His was an uncommon personality amongst the clergy: he was very tolerant of all religions other than Roman Catholicism and even recommended that some of his clergy leave his church to follow them, if that was their calling. He was also to be the acting priest at my wedding in the morning.
"Good evening, Father Blake."
"Good evening, Rhiannon. You're here awfully late, aren't you? The ceremony is to be held in a matter of hours..."
"Yes I know, Father. I just felt the need to visit this place one last time. After tomorrow, I feel like everything will change...." my voice trailed off as I again gazed into the eyes of the Virgin Mary hovering above. "I spent so much time within its walls growing up...it is a place that has always made me feel welcomed. Funny how I hadn't visited this place for years, yet now I am here seeking sanctuary."
He held his jaw with his hand, speaking thoughtfully.
"You spent your childhood here, Rhiannon. Perhaps it is an indication of your life coming full circle? You left to seek Wicca and now you have come back to visit, however briefly, filled with a host of new memories and experiences to share. In either case, churches have always instilled me with peace, so I do understand their meditational aspect." I returned his soft smile and nodded as he continued.
"Well, feel free to stay as long as you wish. I am but here for only a moment ...I was making some last minute preparations before I turn in for the night. Please do not stay too long, dear. God be with you."
He hugged me gently (I think he could feel my trepidation about the marriage), and I returned the embrace before sitting back and replying with a wobbly smile,
"I shall. Thank you, Father. For everything you've done for me. Nite."
I watched as he waved goodbye and retreated to one of the rooms adjoining the altar and made my way up to the church balcony, not wishing for him to come back and see my still below. I still felt I needed some time to sort out my thoughts and did not wish to feel hurried or sternly told to go home and get some sleep.
I lay down on a pew toward the rear of the balcony and idly tugged down the fabric of my plaid skirt, musing at the irony of being back here wearing one, ten years after I had graduated from this place. I stared up at the dimly lit ceiling, the glow from nearby candles entwining with the prismatic glow of the moonlight through the painted windows.
Though it was a warm night, there was a slight chill to the air and I decided to stay garbed in my black silk coat, tucking the hood snugly around my face. I sighed once and covered my eyes with one arm as I nestled into the wooden bench.
My mind would not shut off. Ten minutes later, Father Blake had exited the church and I wasn't anywhere closer to clearing my thoughts than I was before. This was such an enormous step to take. Our entire group of friends and family were blissful about the event, and had encouraged this match from the beginning...
I opened my eyes idly as a harsh draft wafted through the balcony, setting the candles to flicker their glow across the stone walls and my slightly heated skin. I shrugged after another moment of inactivity, then jumped as a candle fell from one of the candelabra near the stairwell leading downstairs.
I scrambled to a seated position and scanned the shadows nervously; my childhood fear of rats rising to the forefront of my mind as I shakily clutched the collar of my jacket close to my chin. Perhaps I should have taken Father Blake's advice and gone home?
"No rats would dare harm you while I'm around."
I shrieked at the amused masculine words that had been murmured directly behind me and spun around to see its owner. I began to slide down the bench as I gaped up at his hovering form. There was only one other person that knew of my fear of rats. I couldn't help it. I squeaked and watched him wince faintly at the high-pitched sound.
"I-Ian!"
He took a few steps toward me.
"Yes?"
I just kept gaping as he advanced, too stunned to flee.
"You look like a deer caught in the headlights. It's cute."
I blinked at the random observation and whispered.
"Do you blame me?? We've never met...now suddenly you show up right before I am to marry!"
He took another confident step forward, his hands caught behind his back indolently as he remarked softly,
"We
have
met. We know each other in ways that no one else does."
I waved off most of his words as the full impact of his arrival hit me square in the face. I was taken out of my stupor as my feisty nature reared its head. I rose to my feet with my fists clenched.
"You know what I meant. And how dare you come to me
now
."
