Priest and Worshipper

Welcome to the mind of Alli

He talks calmly, quietly, as if to a frightened animal. He knows too well the delicate balance of His dark games. His appearance inspires faith and trust, His actions elicit a thrill of fear.

His black robe hangs in dignified folds, and brushes against the whiteness of my own – a contrast impossible to miss. His fingers continue their soft stroking of my neck, rhythmic and calm, until He rests His thumb in the hollow of my throat.

'I can feel your fear in your pulse' He murmurs. He increases the pressure slightly, and I swallow nervously, feeling the small constriction His finger causes.

'I can feel your soul' Again He speaks calmly, but His words do nothing to allay the growing trepidation. I breathe deeply, the air shuddering through me, soothing me. He will not hurt me…my thoughts race over and over.

His thumb releases its pressure as He moves to fetch the soft black collar waiting nearby. The small silver cross twinkles obscenely in the dim light. I hear His robes whispering as He moves behind me.

'Kneel for me in respect' He murmurs. He has no need for volume, as His voice controls me utterly. My legs buckle and I sink to my knees, white robe flowing around me. I hang my head forward, exposing the delicate vertebrate of my neck to His view. His strong fingers stroke them, as He earlier stroked my throat, then I feel the leather as it encircles me.

Soft at first, then more snug, until the collar becomes a constant reminder of the pressure His thumb exerted. My pulse races in anticipation and excitement, clearly visible under the collar, thudding and betraying my silence.

'Now stand, sub, and be graceful and still' I obey, trained past the point of no return. I will follow Him anywhere, and do what pleases Him.

I watch from lowered lids as He glides in front of me, silent, the only sound His robes moving. He raises His hand but I do not flinch (He will not hurt me….) and a smile touches His lips. His eyes, darker than any shadow, are watching me, assessing, as He gently flicks the button at the top of my robe. The front panel falls open, giving a tantalising glimpse of my skin, but the clasp at the waist holds fast, my modesty preserved for a few moments yet.

With a speed that surprises me His hand is around my waist, and His lips are on mine as He kisses me roughly. I stumble, taken unawares, but His arm is around me, and His lips continue to bruise mine, relentless. I offer no resistance and become still and pliable in His arms, which pleases Him, I can feel Him smile, His smile is on my lips also. With His free hand He strokes the base of my throat again, dipping and lingering in that shallow hollow that conceals my life. His lips are sealed on mine, His tongue forcing its way into my mouth as he presses again on my throat. His arm tightens around my waist, squeezing me intently and I resist the urge to fight Him. He is all, I will obey Him.

He tears His mouth from mine, props me up on my feet, and steps back.

'You please me, little sub' He murmurs, and stretches His hand out again to my robe. The waist clasp obeys Him also, and my robe falls open, all I am exposed to His view. I gaze off to the side, allowing him privacy with that which He has ordered. I know what He sees, He gave explicit instructions. The whiteness of the robe is matched only by the whiteness of the painfully tight corset underneath. My breath is ragged due to its confines, but what He demands, will transpire. My nakedness is neither covered nor marred in any other way, as He has ordered. No stockings adorn my legs; no underwear teases His eyes. He wants nothing covered to His view, except by the corset. My skin is pale in the candle, floating like moonlight under the sharp piercing white of the robe and corset.

'And have you fasted?" He asks with languid curiosity. He knows the answer, but will force me to speak, as He knows I will not otherwise

'Yes, Priest. Two days as you ruled' He smiles again, white teeth in brown skin, and eyes as dark as sin itself.

I brave to look at Him again, but He does not catch me, His dark eyes are watching my chest rise and fall with my breath. The silk and bone fabric pushes my breasts up painfully, and each breath is plainly obvious. He traces the outline with a finger, slowly, and watches my face as He does so. I am silent, but aching, I cannot speak to Him or anyone of my longing now. Words have gone. He knows.

His lips cover mine again and He pushes the length of His body against me, forcing me to feel His strength. I respond with my weakness and lean into Him, my breasts against his chest with every breath. Soon I cannot breathe alone anymore, His mouth over mine, His arm around me, I am faint with longing and lack of air. The edges of my vision blur and grow a little dim, I am frantic inside, but immobile and pliant outside. Like a saviour He breathes His air into me, His warm and sweet breath becoming my life.

As I breathe through him I feel His hand move from my breast down to His robes and I hear his waist clasp open. He breaks the kiss, I gasp and hang my head back, my neck open to Him.

He lays me on the table behind, my robe like a sea of white peace around me. I wait for Him. He does not undo His robe fully, simply opens the waist, but I do not see any of this.

I am lying where he placed me, waiting for my Priest. He stands between my legs, our black/white robes mingling places his arm under my waist again, arching my back, opening me to Him. My neck is vulnerable, and my corset rides up slightly, exposing all of me to him. He is not looking, He has seen everything before, but he cannot resist tasting my neck. As He leans forward to do so, He slides into me, the length and breadth of Him a surprise, an intrusion and I gasp again.

I will not try to escape, and He buries himself in me completely, resting silently, His eyes boring into mine. I cannot look away, am hypnotised by the sight of His soul, the feel of Him deep within, and the taste of His breath still lingering in my lungs.

He raises His hand, covers my mouth.

At first I interpret it as a lovers touch, soft and warm, but the strength in Him frightens me, and He sees the fear in my eyes. It excites Him and He thrusts into me with force. I cannot cry out and His hand tightens over my mouth, His eyes boring into me as I become wetter and wetter and more and more panicked. Finally, when I begin to see stars that dance in time with his plunging He replaces His hand with His mouth again, and breathes life into me. He is filling me, my mouth, my lungs, my cunt, everywhere is filled with Him. His weight on me is overpowering, I cannot resist and I cry out my orgasm into His mouth, responding to Him in the only way He wants. He is flooded by me as I answer His body's questions with my own, and I see Him smile again, that odd satisfied smile, as He stares at me.

He is not satisfied, I know He won't be for a long while yet, and I know there will be more fear before He is happy. But the burning in His eyes is worth it, and I am resigned to obey and please Him until my soul and body burn as one.