A Sinner's Repentance

It is with trepid intimidation that Selena walks toward the church. The scenes from the pastor's office have played out in her mind at the most inopportune moments over the past week. Lying in her bed -- the taste of Pastor Evan in her mouth. Getting dressed, feeling the wind caress her uncovered nethers -- Evan's hand grabbing her by the pussy while lecturing her. At work, a customer staring down her cleavage -- fingers twisting her sore nipples. The images are invading her mind, and she is certain this is evil trying to corrupt her further.

If it is -- the forces are succeeding. She has been admonished by her work multiple times for her frequent toilet breaks, which she really had to take to dab herself with cold water. The chills kept her from entertaining the dirty impulses of humping the bar desk and grinding up on a customer's lap, helped her kill the fire that is tormenting her.

Yesterday, Lenny, one of the regulars at the diner, softly let her know that perhaps she needed to switch out her work uniform for a new one. Looking down she found that the pastel pink romper had a dark spot in her crotch area -- not being able to wear any underpants had allowed the uniform to be soaked through by her depraved thoughts. She had to throw on one of the frilly white aprons the bar staff had, to cover her shame spot. The rest of her shift she kept clutching the cross around her neck as her mind told her over and over how she should have asked Lenny to help undress her.

Luckily, the romper has kept her from feeling herself up at work. She knows that the pastor specifically wanted to test her ability to abstain, but she has been grateful for this small grace. At home, wearing her skirt so that her holes are open to the world, she has been able to keep from the bliss of orgasm but just barely.

Her fingers have continually found their way to her lips no matter what she is doing. Just lightly grazing, playing, pulling -- it is so hard not to, when she is continually reminded of its existence. The pastor's words echo through her mind whenever the filth is trying to convince her to go further; "My orifices are the property of my father."

Every night, she gets on her knees to pray at her bedside. She has to push away the mental images of kneeling before Pastor Evan and his drained cock, of herself begging for release and salvation only to be denied. She is going to get cleansed. Her words are always pleading, desperate -- longing even. "Dearest father, thank you for sending me on this journey, for purifying me of all sins. I will listen to your heavenly guidance; I will sacrifice my body for my faith. Please let this torment stop -- please let the fire in my loins die out, let my mind be freed from dirty thoughts."

So, her feelings toward the church are ambivalent. Standing in front of the massive double doors she feels silly, like a young girl who needs to be admonished for her shortcomings. Presenting herself to the pastor again, being put in a different mass where her mind can't corrupt and poison the congregation -- that shouldn't have to happen to a grown woman. She should have more self-discipline than this.

However, she is truly grateful for the chance to become free; she reminds herself of this as she steps into the holy building. Any nervousness in her body settles as soon as she lays eyes on the pastor, and he gives her a warm and reassuring smile. It will all be okay. Selena is sure of it.

"Glad to see you, Miss Cruz. On time and all." He comes over to greet her, arms open to enclose her in a hug. After the stress of the past week, she happily melts into his arms, feeling the muscles in his lower back flex as she rests her hands on him. There is something else too, something hard and unyielding pressing against her thigh. Quickly, Selena puts that out of her mind. He is a man of god, her mind is playing tricks on her. She will just enjoy inhaling the scent of the pastor's sun-bathed skin and freshly cleaned linen robes.

He strokes her hair, places a stray strand of hair gently behind her ear. "Have you been a good girl?" His voice is husky as his piercing gaze stares right into her soul. Momentarily tongue-tied, all Selena can do is nod.

Pastor Evan slowly peels her coat from her shoulders, lets it drop to the floor with a faint thud. He traces her shoulders and arms with just one finger, before he brusquely puts one hand under her skirt. He searches her folds, and then shoves his two fingers up her cunt with force. Selena squeals out loud, and tries to jump back, but his fingers are hooked in her. It's just fingers, she has to remind herself. This is not foul.

"Hm. It seems you can take instruction. Don't act so pious -- we both know the truth, don't we?" He grins at her, fingers still inside, and Selena blushes. She can feel how he strokes her insides just twice, meaning that if she was wet before, she is positively dripping now. The pastor is right, if anyone knows her true nature, that would be him. A sanctimonious cunt, morally inferior rather than anything else.

"Open up." The pastor presents his fingers, glistening with her own personal holy water, to her. She shakes her head, hoping that he will let her be. Having to taste her own arousal is terribly humiliating. "Do you not remember what we said about your holes? Do you not wish to be saved from your sins, harlot?"

Selena regretfully parts her lips, allowing him to shove his fingers as far back in his mouth as he can reach. He leaves them there, resting on her tongue, and she has to feel the taste of herself coat her tastebuds, leaving a sweet and lightly metallic tinge.

"Good girl." There they are, the words that make her entire insides sparkle and bubble with excitement. She gasps for air as he pulls his fingers out, realizing that she has been holding her breath that whole time. "Now, what did we say about the holes?"

"They are the property of my father."

Pastor Evan has already started walking towards the altar, but Selena stands frozen in place looking after him. She feels as lost and confused as last time, debating between running away and crawling after the pastor on her hands and knees, asking him to indulge her, to take her to heaven.

"You would do well not to forget that again, my lamb." His words are suddenly cold, sharp. She can feel them as a shiver in her spine. "Now be of some use and hang that coat up -- it is quite unladylike of you to leave it like that. Come here afterwards, and I'll put you to work."

Selena, red as a beet, picks up her coat and goes to hang it up in the coatroom by the entrance. Away from the pastor's watchful eye, she allows herself to trace her pussy lips just once, wishing that she could finish what was just started. Feeling her own fingers makes her shiver with delight, and she tries to mentally prepare for a long night ahead, worried that her pantyless state will let her juices drip down her legs as she stands up after the sermon. The torment that she was going to face was not yet evident to her.

Sadly, lacking in her clairvoyant powers, Selena returns to the father, and goes to take a seat in the pews, awaiting further instruction. The pastor spots her from his position on the altar and rushes towards her angrily, grabs her at the throat before she has time to sit down. "Are you dumb? We do not sully this church with women like you. Those pews are for the devout believers, the pure and the kind-hearted. Not for possessed little whores who will leak all over the beautiful wood."

The shock and the fear of the pastor's sudden shift cause Selena to burst out in tears, and Pastor Evan eases up on her a little bit. He holds her close in his large arms, letting her put all her weight on him -- he keeps her from falling over, kisses her cheek and rubs her back.

"I- I am so sorry, I wasn't thinking-" she blubbers, burying her tear-streaked face in his chest.

"Don't worry, my child. I am harsh on you, but this isn't your fault. I know a stupid slut brain such as your can only have sex on the mind, that those demons that possess you fill your head with filthy thoughts so that you become vapid and mindless." Is she truly vapid and mindless? Selena wants to protest at first, but the pastor is right, she has only had sex on the mind this whole week. There is very little left of her rational mind.

"Listen, my darling one, I am responsible here. I should guide you better. You cannot be permitted on the furniture, okay?" He dries her tears once again, stroking her hair gently as he speaks. She nods, and then lets him guide her to a spot in front of the altar, where he gestures for her to kneel.

"I'm really proud of you getting here today, and I think it will be a great first step towards absolution." First step? Selena doesn't have time to finish her thought before the pastor continues. "Your presence here is a part of your penance, so you will not be an idle observer -- you are here to work. I am not afraid to report your criminal acts to the authorities if you do not obey, and there is definitely a higher authority you'll have to answer to as well. Do you understand?"

He is towering above her, and she is feeling particularly small, being reminded of her crime while sitting at his feet. She will have to be a lot more careful. "Yes, father."

"Good. Before we begin, there was another part of your penance for this week -- you were to keep from touching yourself. Let me smell your hands." He grabs Selena's wrist with force, and brings it to his nose. "Ah, smells like cunt juice. You have clearly failed on a very simple instruction. Was having your holes freely accessible to you too much trouble, Miss Cruz?"

Her cheeks are hot and pounding, and her fingers play with her hem, fearing the pastor's reaction. "Um, I didn't fully wear skirts all the time, father- Work requires-"

"So, you had extra help, and you failed me despite that? Is that what you want to tell me?" He crouches down, puts a finger under her chin, guides her to look him in the eyes as she answers. The smell of sandalwood and parchment is intoxicating.

Selena bites her lip, meets his gaze. "I figured... Maybe it would be okay if I didn't... Um, take myself there."

"You need to spell it out to me, my child, or else this is meaningless. What exactly did you do -- in detail -- and what could that possibly be better than?"

She takes a few deep breaths, only able to answer through gritted teeth. "I did trace my labia with my fingers, just lightly, quite a few times. I figured it would be better than plunging into myself and making myself cum, which is what I was desperately seeking, father."

His face clearly shows disgust, as he stands, laughs at her and shakes his head. He seems to be in full disbelief that someone could stray this far from the right path. "Well, we do not have time for this -- the members will be here any minute. I have to put you to work, but you better believe there will be... for lack of a better word, hell to pay."

Selena swallows so hard that she thinks she can hear the sound bounce against the walls. She isn't sure if she is excited to see what her punishment will entail -- a memory of her twisted nipples comes to mind -- or if she is fearful of what is to come. The mixture of worry and arousal is dizzying.

"This is your first task." He hands her a scrubber brush with a knob as a handle, and a bucket full of soap and water. "You need to scrub the altar, I expect it to be shining. People will be here soon, so I also expect you to keep going through the motions as I preach."

Breathing a small sigh of relief, Selena is glad it isn't anything worse than that. Her school taught her that a woman's true place was cleaning, cooking, and birthing. She was prepared for this. Still, there is a small tinge of something that resemble disappointment in her stomach. Did she want to do something filthier?

"One more thing," There is that glare in the pastor's eye again, the same one he had right before he made her relive her moment of sin in his office. "You are only to use your mouth. This is to teach you that that mouth should be used in service, not for your own gain, ego and pleasure. I want you on hands and knees with your mouth around that knob, and I want you to think about my cock, your landlord's filthy dick, and the thousands more I am sure you would like to suck. I want you on all fours, remembering that your mouth is for other's gain, and that anything you do with it is for free, and without hesitation."

Selena looks at the large knob and immediately recognises that it is going to be tricky to fit her mouth around that. Just a moment later, the realization dawns on her that the congregation will see her carrying out her duty, and she makes a mental note to rush so that she can ideally finish before all of them have arrived. Maybe she can excuse herself if someone asks, just letting them know that she was helping out and... She'll have to figure out the reasoning later. The warning about the police is still in the back of her head, she knows this is not the time to protest. Not if she wants to keep her freedom and reputation.

"Yes, father. I will."

He is already walking towards the church doors, presumably to open them up. Selena feels a stirring in her lower body at the thought, and she isn't sure if it is nausea -- or something else. Pastor Evan answers her from the back of the room: "Yes, you will, because your mouth is what?"

"For other's gain." He gestures for her to speak up. She shouts; "My mouth is for other's gain, father!"

Her voice echoes as the doors are opened. Bemused, the pastor smiles as he shakes hands with the first gentleman, that had already been waiting outside the doors. The man has clearly heard her loud proclamation. Selena feels like she wants to sink through the floor.

She gets to work right away, trying to still her mind by distracting herself from the thought of the room that is filling up. The pastor had said no hands, so to wet the brush she needs to dunk her entire face in the rather overfilled bucket. Water splashes onto her white button-up shirt, and she regrets wearing a sheer bra underneath, but tries to put her worries about the potential sheerness of her wet clothes away for the moment being. Her hair is dripping on the granite below her, and her hands and knees are getting grimy from the dirt. She can't help but to drool from the taste of soap, and from the large ball filling out her entire mouth cavity. She must look -- well, vapid and mindless.

Scrubbing is proving difficult -- she has to swish her head back and forth vigorously, which makes her hair rub against her floor and her breasts sway painfully beneath her. Her bra is not doing much to support her in this position, rather it feels like her huge tits are about to pop out from their cups. Her nipples are rock hard from the rapidly cooling water, and despite not having looked up once, Selena can feel the presence of several eyes ogling her.

She takes her penance extremely seriously, so she dutifully tries to think about the erections of her landlord and pastor Evan as she works. It is hard to not physically feel them in her, as the knob is filling her up in much the same way they filled out her mouth. The only thing that keeps her from succumbing entirely to her memory is the soapy taste that lingers instead of the salty musky taste of cum, and the dark timbre of male voices that are filling up the church hall as she is bobbing her head back and forth.

"Gentlemen!" The doors have closed, and Pastor Evan is joining her on the altar. Selena is happy that her long hair is covering her hair in wet stripes as she works, so that the men will hopefully not recognize her. "Thank you for being able to make it to mass today instead -- we are incredibly grateful for your presence. As you know we are all here to serve, and when our heavenly father calls upon us to help another, we answer."

Going over a particularly stubborn spot, Selena feels one of her tits slip out of her bra cup as she is shaking them wildly. She tries to correct it without anyone noticing, but it is very hard to keep her balance and adjust her bra at the same time. It will have to wait until she can get away from everyone's glaring eyes.

"This evening, and many Thursdays ahead, we are joining because we have been presented with a particularly difficult challenge. One that cannot be allowed to fester among our wives and sisters. We have a harlot among us -- the one who is said to come and perform all the seven deadly sins, in the name of hedonism, the one who will lead all the devoted and pure women astray."

Selena stops in her tracks. This is her. He is talking about her. They are all here... for her. When the pastor had talked about this mass she thought it was something that was already happening, but she is so depraved that they had to instate a special mass for her, and everyone in that room knows it. There is some sort of prophecy about her? Her eyes are tearing up again, and she bends her down to keep scrubbing, still drooling all over the brush. For a moment, she is questioning if this is really all with her best interest in mind, and she makes a mental note to confront the pastor when it is a bit more suitable.

"No one will be judged here, because you are all in service to out heavenly father. Everything that you do is approved by me, and a part of trying to exorcise this beautiful young woman of her wicked ways, to not risk our community's well-being." He walks over to Selena, stands right next to her, but she doesn't dare to look up. "She doesn't have her manners yet. The least you can do for these kind men, harlot, is to wave at them. Leave the brush in."

Every muscle in her body is screaming no, but she reminds herself of prison, of the danger she is to society if left without absolution, of how everyone is here to help her. Closing her eyes, she sits up, but her curiosity gets the better of her and she cannot help but opening them as she waves daftly to the crowd. Her hair is wet and messed up, her mascara has run down her cheeks, her eyes are full of tears, her mouth is stuffed with a brush, and her drool is falling down on her thighs -- that she presses together tightly to not show anyone her current state. Her heels are resting dangerously close to her pleasure spots, and she is mindful to not try to inch them closer, understanding that trying to grind herself while on display is not in her best interest, even if her cunt cannot stop making itself known to her.

Selena's shirt is entirely soaked through, showing just the outline of her one nipple, whilst the crowd can see the full pink shape of her nipple and areola of the breast that sits slightly above her bra cup. She looks a right mess, and someone that didn't know what she had been up to would probably describe her as looking freshly fucked.

Looking out over the crowd of men filling the room, she recognises a few familiar faces. There is Lenny, a few rows over she finds her landlord with his hand down his pants, even the mayor is here, looking furious with her. In the first row, she sees the one face she did not want to discover in that crowd, her boss Ken. He is snapping a picture on her phone, and she tries to cover herself up with her hands, without realising that her hands on her breasts make even more of a lewd display.

She squirms uncomfortably, not quite sure what to do with the notion that all these men know who she is, and that she will have to interact with them aware that they have seen her completely humiliated. She will have to make a plan for how to reject their advances, to make it clear to them that she is, after all, a woman of god. Like a mind reader, Pastor Evan helps her by giving her an out of the awkward situation, but not the one Selena would have probably wished for.