A Sinner's Repentance

This story will feature some non-consensual acts, severe degradation/humiliation, blackmail, some violence and a whole lot of religious imagery. This first part is mostly teasing, but the whole story will get more depraved as we go along -- if you mind that, please stop when you feel like you have had enough. I am still in the process of writing, so let me know if there is anything specific you'd like to see, and I might be able to fulfil that for you.

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Selena is looking down, clenching her thighs together, seeing her feet dig holes in the gravel. She has to curse herself and her terrible sense of decorum, standing here, just outside the holiest of rooms, with her pleated skirt resting teasingly just above her knee. It had been below when she got dressed, but it must have ridden up a bit in the waist -- and now she stands outside of church looking much like a daft harlot. Needing a break from her mind, she decides to go inside and look at the art before the meeting is supposed to start.

A few minutes later, a firm hand grips her shoulder, and she gasps in shock and twists in place, but is met by the kind and loving gaze of Pastor Evan.

"Sorry for scaring you," His voice is dark and melodic, and Selena instantly feel a sense of calmness rush over her." We are obligated to wear shoes that don't make much sound -- to avoid the echo."

"Ah, no issue at all. Thank you for having time to see me." Her face feels warm, it must be blushing red. Pastor Evan isn't exactly difficult to look at -- kind eyes, a strong jaw, those large and muscular hands -- and Selena hasn't had much time to fraternize with men before. Her entire life she has been sequestered away at a Christian all girls' school, first as a student, then as a TA.

She feels herself absentmindedly adjusting the hem of her skirt and happens to catch Pastor Evan's face as he looks at her knees with a disapproving expression. Taking a few deep breaths, to ease the embarrassment, she at first feels calmer, but instantly instead become aware of her own chest bobbing up and down with every breath in. The pastor is a gentleman, so he has already averted his eyes.

"I think it is best if we talk in my office, it is a bit more private." He pauses for a second. "And it is less hot."

Selena looks at the rays of sunlight that have broken through the coloured glass, the ones that are caressing the barely clothes figurine of the saviour on the cross. In a daze, she feels like she can see a droplet of sweat rolling down the chiselled abs. It is hot in here, indeed.

He leads her to a back door and guides her to the basement stairs. It is dusty, cold, and dark, and the stairs have the tiniest steps -- they hardly fit a normal human foot. Selena looks at them with dread.

The pastor kindly offers her a hand, and she takes it without a question -- just staring down at the steps below her she can imagine what a humiliating fall that could have been. Landing on her hands and knees, considering she opted out of any tights that day, would have done very little to hide her white cotton panties from the pastor. She gets a firm grip on his hand, just to make sure.

"Good girl", he proclaims, and laces his fingers with hers. The words make her stomach flutter.

Once they are down the rickety stairs he doesn't let go of her hand, instead he tightens his grip. Feeling a bit silly, a grown-up woman being led by the hand, she figures maybe she should speak up, but she doesn't want to make the pastor feel uncomfortable. He is showing her kindness and grace, so a little handholding can't hurt.

As they enter, he lifts his arm in the air, still holding onto her, indicating that she should spin. Selena pauses for a moment, meets the gaze of the pastor, surely, he can't mean- It doesn't take more than a glance for her to understand that he is entirely serious. Maybe this is just what it is like with men, Selena figured. They don't mean anything demeaning by it, they just enjoy being a little silly. That must be it.

So, she obeys -- because she is a good girl after all -- and spins. Her skirt, light as a feather, lift from her thighs with the force. It has been years since she last was spun around, and she has miscalculated what she is capable of in her outfit. The skirt flares out entirely, for just a moment revealing Selena's underwear to the office. She quickly tries to cover herself with her free hand, but the white fabric is glaring against her tanned upped thigh, and she is just a moment too late.

"Hm. Take a seat, Miss Cruz." The pastor drops her hand as if he was stung by it, and he clears his throat, clearly uncomfortable with her inappropriate display. There it is again, the tingles in her stomach, and that plaguing feeling of warmth behind her cheeks.

"Thank you, father." Selena takes a seat in one of the large armchairs, and stares firmly at her kneecaps. She cannot look him in the eyes, not now. "Um, so I-"

"Sorry, my child." He interrupts her gently, with a careful hand on her bare thigh. It lingers for just a second or two, just about grazing the hem of her skirt, before he lets go. "I have to start out our conversation with some formalities first."

Of course, she can't seem to get anything at all right today. Thoughts are just swirling through her head, she can feel pearls of sweat forming on her breasts and in the creases where her thighs meet her inner sanctum. The heat is getting to her, that must be why her mind feels foggy, why she has the urge to squirm in her seat, why she cannot get the mental image of Pastor Evan's hand on her skin to leave her.

"This is an audience with me, but I am just a messenger, the one you truly have to answer to is the heavenly father. You can speak in confidence here, and nothing will shock me -- nothing is ever too depraved to be absolved." There is an edge to his voice, and Selena finds herself wondering what is going through his mind. What kind of depraved acts is he picturing her being involved with? She looks up, only to find herself lock his eyes as he leans in. With a voice that is suddenly more husky, breathy, he says; "So -- you have been bad?"

"Yes, father, forgive me. I have sinned." Selena bites her lip, knowing that what is to come is going to be deeply unpleasant for her. "Um, I-I- pride myself on being a decent, polite and devout Christian. This story, however, it- it isn't, er, pure."

Pastor Evan raises an eyebrow, and she finds herself wishing that she had just had a little bit more time to be a part of the congregation before she was made to bring such a difficult confession, just to get a read on the pastor beforehand. It has after all only been two months since she lost her job at the girl's school for practicing her skills in sexual service with the teacher after hours -- the older woman had been kind enough to offer to prepare Selena for her future husband by showing her the correct mouth techniques with a broom handle. The head teacher hadn't appreciated the lewd display she encountered when opening the classroom door, and Selena had never had the chance to explain that her virginity was intact.

Ms. Thompson would never rob her of something so sacred, she had just wanted Selena to assist her future husband while waiting for their wedding -- to ensure that everyone stayed pure. She was so kind to her.

"Do not feel worry or fear -- it is normal to hesitate before the holy judgement -- but if you do not speak without censors, you can never be truly absolved. You do crave that, don't you?" She nods vigorously. "So, speak."

"Well-" Her vocabulary was not really equipped for the story she was about to tell. It was not common for her to be all that adventurous, she had never been like those girls at school that stole porn magazines and went to hide out with them in the forest. She was pure. Emphasis on was. "I am new in town, and I recently got a new job. I work part-time, as a waitress, but my real hope is to get into theology- Anyway, they still have not sent me my first pay check. I had gotten in trouble at one of my shifts, arguing with a man who slapped my... behind. They said I took away from his experience and made me use my pay check to compensate him."

"Seems reasonable, if your pride came in the way of this hard-working man's meal, do you not think? You were not put here to be stingy with the gifts that has been bestowed upon you." The pastor's steely gaze penetrates her, and she can feel herself holding her breath as he is reprimanding her. Tingles. Everywhere. She hates the feeling, and finds herself craving more.

"Yes father, no I mean- No- You are entirely correct. It was my fault, but that means I am... broke. The rent was due and I figured I just needed an extension, pick up a few extra shifts, whatever it takes. So I had to have a conversation with my landlord, a lovely man really, in his early seventies."

Selena swallows hard, almost at this point rubbing herself on the leather seat, desperate to free herself from the tingles concentrating between her legs. "When I told him, he was sympathetic, but regretfully couldn't let it wait. Told me he is old and doesn't get to have any fun, that he needs my money to afford anything other than food and living costs. Then he said, if I really can't get the money on time, maybe I can pay some other way, to make up for the loss. He, um, he wanted a..." The last word is difficult for her to get out, so she mumbles it under her breath. "A lap dance."

"Speak up, my child." The pastor laughs apologetically, and flashes her a smile that would have made her knees buckle if she was standing. "I am getting old. I cannot hear you."

"A lap- A lap dance." She stutters the word, bright red in her face at this point. "And I thought to myself that maybe it would be okay -- I would still be pure, technically, and I wouldn't have to take a bunch of extra shifts. Maybe I could even use the few dollars that I had been gathering towards rent on a new dress -- it had been ages since I got one, and I am not used at being out of uniform. Evidently."

Selena gestures to her bare knees and regrets it that very moment, but the pastor doesn't seem to take notice. He is looking at her chest, where the buttons are barely managing to keep the button-down shirt together.

"Evidently." The expression on his face can only be described as hunger, as he too mutters under his breath. "Sloth and greed. Pride. The harlot."

"What was that?" Selena is a wreck at this point. Her underwear feel completely soaked, her juices pooling under her on the leather chair, whilst she is nervously caressing the uncovered parts of her thighs.

"Nothing, never mind." He looks up and flashes her that dreamboat smile once again. She immediately forgets the fear, knowing that the pastor is just looking out for her. She has to get a new wardrobe.

"I did, uh, perform that lap dance, but he said it wouldn't count if I didn't take my clothes off, and at that point I just desperately wanted to get out of the rent, so I did. Everything, I showed him my bare nipples. I flashed him my... my most holy place. It just so desperately didn't want to have to deal with the skimpy little uniforms at work, and the leery old men. This felt just as bad, but easier somehow."

"Really, Ms. Cruz? Easier?" The disdain was heavy in the clergyman's voice.

"I know, father, I- Something came over me, and I thought that maybe- I would still be saved for my husband so- Either way, the landlord all of a sudden opened his pants and showed me his..." Selena clenched her jaw and rested her hands in her lap, everything to get closer to scratching that terrible itch.

"...pole. It was at full mast, father, and he said I was to blame. That I couldn't leave him like this. Ms. Thompson, the teacher I worked for at the catholic school, she had told me about this. It would make him sick with blue balls if I just left him, so she has taught me how to use my mouth and hands. I thought the hands would maybe be cleaner, they are easier to cleanse and purify, so I offered to take care of it for him, but he just laughed in my face. He said my downstairs neighbour comes around sometimes, but that she treats him as a woman should, that she was a true devout woman who knew to use her God-given gifts. He said she uses the mouth always. I have to admit, I became rather upset at this, just imagining her kneeling in front of his cock like this, and him finding her to be a more pious Christian than me! Angry, even. So, I decided to show him."

"You felt wrath." The pastor licks his lips slowly, and she could think of a million different places where she would prefer that tongue -- but she also felt deep shame with herself for it. Confessing to the dirtiest of acts, and all her mind can conjure up is more sin?

"I did. I wanted to show him that my worship was truer than that of my neighbour, that I was willing to do whatever was in my power to delight this old man. Once I felt him in my mouth, got to swirl my tongue around his shaft, it was as if I was no longer myself -- I just knew I wanted to gulp him down. I wanted him as far in me as I could take him, I was starving and I needed to be stuffed."

The tingles in her cunt are affecting her mind, and at this point she no longer knows what she is saying, she is speaking out of pure lust. "I swallowed him. I took him down my throat, until he was released of his burden. Maybe- I think I had gone too far already, at that point, but I also had an eternal fire that I wasn't sure how to put out, so I asked him to do the same to me. To release me. Just once, to get to feel that bliss. It- it was a religious experience father. I cannot sleep, all I think about is getting to experience that once again. That is how I know -- all of this was an act of the darkness, of the devil. I have been led astray. It was dirty, and wrong. Please forgive me for my sins. Please forgive me. Please forgive me."

At this point she is crying, and she is grinding herself against the seat, moaning through her sobs -- the humiliation of having a man see her like this is just making her more horny, more mindless. She moans through her sobs, hoping her apparent sorrow is covering them up. "Please. Please. Please. Get this sinner out of me."

"Sit. Still." The pastor has gotten out of his chair without her noticing, and he is now towering over her. Aggressively, he grabs both her arms, pins them down on the armrests. "You are embarrassing yourself."

As she calms herself down, he softens. The grip on her arms gets looser.

"Oh my little lamb, you have gotten yourself in so much trouble." His face is inches away from hers. She is barely breathing, with the tension in the room. "Wrath. Lust. Greed. Pride. Gluttony -- the way you gobbled down that dick as if there was no tomorrow. Sloth. Envy. You really went for the queen sweep of deadly sins, huh?"

His fingers are tracing her jaw, eventually lifting her face with one finger, slightly, to make her look at him through the tears.

"Do not worry, my child, there is no sinner too depraved for absolution. What you did is bad -- very bad in fact. Not only are you a terrible sinner, but you are a criminal. A simple prostitute, who also took sexual advantage of a confused elderly man for her own disgusting needs."

"I- I- didn't mean to-" Selena is sobbing, but she can also feel the pastor hard against her inner thigh, and her mind is confused with the sensations. There is something wrong with her, something uncontrollable and broken.

As if he heard her thoughts, the pastor addresses her softly. "Do not fear -- this is not your fault. You are possessed, corrupted by demons and forces beyond your control. It.., does however not make you less dangerous." For a moment, Selena thinks he looks like he is about to tear up, but she cannot see his eyes watering. There is a glare there though, something she can't quite place. "My congregation should be warned, technically, so that they can avoid you. I shouldn't invite you into our church anymore -- you might poison the well, so to speak. I should report you to the police, to keep the community safe."

With no friends in town, leaving the congregation would completely isolate her. She doesn't know anybody, and without her faith, she is no one. Actual fear strikes Selena, the worry that her life will never be the same from here on out. She will be more correct than she could ever imagine.

"Please father, please. I will do anything."

He brushes her hair out of her face, kisses her forehead -- she is too panicked to even shy away. "Yes, you will. Because I believe that I can reform you, Selena. We'll make you better, we'll make you one of the chosen ones, who get to spread the mission. I have a separate mass, for women like you, who need to be around only men until they no longer pose a risk to the pure and good women in our community. It will be a good place for you to work on your penance. You see-"

He firms the grip he has around her arms once again, and she feels her skin strain under him. "- a filthy sinner like you can't just be forgiven without paying the price. But to figure that out, I need to see exactly what you did. Our heavenly father may be almighty and omnipotent, but I am going to need some help -- and I can't assign you the proper penance without understanding precisely what your sin looked like."

Pastor Evan backs away and takes a seat on his own chair, gestures to the floor in front of them to hint that it is her space now. At first, Selena feels like her sexual frustrations have eaten her capacity for rational thought, but then she understands -- the pastor needs to experience it. In pure desperation she falls to her knees in front of him, greedily and gratefully beginning to free the pastor from his cloth prison.

He slaps her, hard. The anger is palpable. "No, you cheap whore. The lap dance first."

The words hurt more than the slap, which is stinging massively, but holding back her tears she realises that it is only factual. All of this is guidance -- he makes her confront her own actions. She -is- a cheap whore.

As desperate she is for some release, as much her body yearns for forbidden touch, she never thought she would ever be capable of this. Selena has given her whole life to church, has been chaste and prude, never until today showed anything above the knees and elbows near the holy space. To undress herself here of all places, in front of a man of God nonetheless -- she knew she deserved it, but the humiliation made her want to run. Luckily, she needed absolution more.

Clumsily, she starts unbuttoning her blouse, one button at a time. She takes her time, reveals only a morsel of skin with each button, but it isn't long before she is there in her white lacy bra. Selena was gifted with massive tits early, and they had mostly been used as a reason to plague her when she was younger -- always someone looking to suck them for comfort, or knead them as a stress relief. She would always let the other girls do so, as it was completely innocent, and she wanted to be generous and good. It was just so time consuming, and made her feel very shy when a sister walked by and saw her all tits out. This has also meant that she is bad at fitting her bra, she doesn't want to show her breasts to any lingerie store worker to get fitted, so her soft mounds are overflowing her cups.

"He probably touched you, didn't he, my little lamb?" The pastor's husky voice has returned, and he is really straining against his pants now. He roughly grabs her covered breasts and starts massaging before she has a chance to tell him the landlord did not really feel her up. Scared that he will be less benevolent if she protests, she doesn't speak up, deeply shameful of the fact that the pastor has to do something so filthy to her as a part of his service -- she doesn't want him to feel guilty for grabbing her even though he didn't need to. She has made this all happen; she is forcing the pastor to take part in her depravity. A sign of true filth.