The Kingdom Of Gods Grace Ch 03

The Kingdom of God's Grace

Chapter 3 - Lies

By LoyalHound

All characters are fictious and are adults. All locations and organizations are fictional.

I sat in my cubical trying to write my midday prayer. Normally I could just wing it and I've never had a prayer rejected, but it has become increasing difficult to do since the cathedral fire. My mind was troubled and my caretaker had noticed it. Last night, he had confronted me about it.

"Deirdre, what troubles you? I know you're upset and you should have no secrets from your caretaker," said Mister Littleton.

"Mister Littleton, as my caretaker you are charged with guiding my actions, and this girl embraces your guidance, but it would take God himself to guide my thoughts and he's set me the task of resolving them. Please let me work thru this on my own."

"I am also charged to be concerned with your happiness. You are not happy. Please tell me what's wrong. Does this have something to do with the cathedral fire?"

Now, I thought, I get to add dancing around the truth and lying by omission to the list of my sins. "Yes," I said "and I'm very troubled by the public reaction, blaming all heretics for the actions of a guilty few." A guilty few who were not, I believed, heretics, I thought but dared not speak. They were, most likely, agents of The Church and the government.

"They're being attacked in the street," I continued. "One caretaker had to shoot an intruder who had broken into his home to attack his charge. Their women are basically under house arrest. Their men take their lives in their hands every time they venture out. This is insane. This is not the safe, orderly society we had as recently as two weeks ago. These heretics aren't just animals. They are people. They are our neighbors, and no living human is beyond salvation." And instead of trying to quiet matters and preach peace, The Church was not condemning these attacks, I thought. Why would they if they were the ones who caused it? Yet another lie of omission to add to my shame.

"They were poisoning our society before the cathedral fire," said Mister Littleton. "I cannot believe you're defending them."

"It is the will of God to protect the innocent and punish the guilty. The heretics as a group are not responsible for the cathedral fire."

"Be silent," said Mister Littleton. "I can see you were right. Discuss this with no one. You do have to work thru this on your own before you say something that damages our social credit or gets you attacked in the street. You were right."

"This girl thanks you for the opportunity to solve her own issues. This girl thinks it is sometimes the greatest gift you can give a person and will try and prove herself worthy of this gift."

We spoke no more but eventually we cuddled and he undressed me and caressed me. His sure touch was a comfort to me. He kissed me gently and worked his way down my body with care. Eventually, he went down on me, licking me senseless.

Back at work in my cubical, I eventually had my computer generate a suitable prayer which I duly prayed to the camera on the east side of my cubical and I verified The Church had accepted it.

Maria looked at me with a certain amount of concern. She was one of the few female heretics not working from home. They were kenneling her in one of the locked offices overnight, even though that meant they had to provide kitty litter and wipes so she wouldn't make a mess during the night. Her owner usually did a video call with her once a day and visited her every few days for a private meeting that I assumed included intercourse and, at least one day, a correction as her ass was striped with welts after one of their sessions.

"Maria," I said, looking at the naked slave girl in her shock collar, "I don't think I can stand any remarks about my God or the content of my prayers just now, so please don't."

"You've obviously upset and I feel sad for you."

How could she pity me in her degraded state. Have I actually reached the point where a slave girl pities me? Things just couldn't stop getting better and better.

"Maria, I appreciate your concern but it's something I have work thru on my own."

"I will pray for you," she said.

"Thank you," I said, meaning it. Welcoming the prayers of a heretic. How low had I sunk and there didn't seem to be a bottom to it.

I thought about Maria's body. I've never been with a woman but she interested me. She'd grown use to her shackles and her public display. Anyone who tried to fondle her or feel her up would be arrested, of course. She was slave girl but she was still a woman who must be protected and any man, other than her owner, who laid a finger on her would soon regret it. Her owner, though, could do rather as he pleased.

She had been utterly degraded, kept naked and completely controlled, kenneled like a dog, yet she refused to abandon her heresy or accept submission to a caretaker. They could do things to her and make her do things, and even make her enjoy those things, but they couldn't make her consent to those things. She is stronger in her faith than I am. She is a stronger person than I am.

I imagined her tied spread eagled while her owner fucked her as she tried to resist, driving her to orgasm even as he degraded her. I imagined her being made to lick him clean afterward. And I thought about diving into that muff with my tongue and licking, eating out her owners cum and making her come over and over whether she wanted to or not. Oh, I was a dirty girl and those were sweet dreams.

I moved close enough to my desk that no camera had a good angle and put my right hand under my skirt and rubbed myself. Me eating Maria? How about me as Maria, naked and shackled and wearing a shock collar. Me trying to resist him as he bent me over a desk. Struggling as I was used by an owner who cared nothing for my desires or my consent, only needing me as an instrument of his pleasure and making me like it.

I gritted my teeth and made myself stop. The cameras couldn't see what I was doing, but they'd damn well see my reaction if I kept it up much longer and I had no good excuse to keep my hand under my desk when I was supposed to be working. I didn't want my caretaker to punish me for lude and unprofessional behavior in a work environment. I'm not sure what that punishment would be, but I didn't want to find out.

I thought about my punishments. It was true they were never arbitrary and usually involved the violation of a specific rule, but what voice did I have in the rules? The Church said that was what God intended, but The Church no longer had any credibility with me. I groaned; if I no longer recognized the authority of The Church, what could I be but a heretic? Better not let that fact get out anytime soon. My life was becoming a web of lies.

I also better not follow that thread of logic about my caretaker's rules too far or I might end up as Maria in actual fact. Whether God decreed it or not, I could not defy my caretaker. If he told me to fetch the cane, I must do it. If he wanted to have me, I must comply. And mostly, I didn't want to defy my caretaker. I had been very happy living in holy submission. I choose to submit to may caretaker, but if I choose not to, I would be enslaved. What sort of chose was that?

Oddly, the knowledge that I was a heretic was calming. I didn't have to worry about believing The Church anymore. I believed in God, of course, as I had been taught by The Church, but even a corrupt institution couldn't be wrong about everything, could they? That was a problem for later. I would have to play the part of someone who believed The Church. Live the part and preach the slogans but never again be troubled by my questions about Church conduct, just never speak them aloud.

Lies of omission; lies of commission; lies to be carefully tended and protected, as though as I were their caretaker. I was a dirty girl and I would never be clean again.

When I got home and ate dinner with my caretaker, he immediately noticed my improved spirits. My first two lies were when I told him I believed that with the guidance of God and The Church, order would soon be restored and justice would be served. I didn't believe either would happen if The Church had anything to do with it. My third lie was when I failed to tell him I was a heretic. My fourth lie was they when I failed to tell him that nothing I said about The Church could be trusted in future.

I knelt next to him at my little table, I rubbed my face against his thigh like a cat marking a human with pheromone and said, "This girl has two requests, if you would you care to hear them."

"Go ahead," he said, stroking my hair.

"Firstly, I'd like a good hard fucking at bedtime. I'll prepare after my evening prayer."

"I think that can be accomplished. What's your second request?

Now for the fifth lie. "This is a little odd. As a caretaker, you punish me for bad actions but never for bad thoughts, because no man can control his thoughts. Nevertheless, I would like you give me six strokes of the medium cane for the way my bad thoughts put us in danger."

"I don't think thoughts should be punished and you never placed us in danger because you had sense enough to know when to keep your thoughts to yourself. Better sense than me, in fact."

"Mister Littleton, please don't make me beg. I truly believe this punishment would help me put my troubles behind me." That much, at least, was true. "I know it's harsh, but I feel a need for it."

"I will go no higher than six with the light cane. I don't believe you deserve correction, but your judgement about yourself has been remarkably good. If this is what you truly want, I will give it to you, but please make no such requests in future."

"I won't. I just need to put a period on this sentence to put this behind me."

My sixth lie, of course, was that I failed to confess my lies. This one last time, I wanted to be punished for my lies.

When it came time for my evening prayer, I found I was able to wing it. The prayer, at least, was not a lie. I realized I still believed the things I said. It was only The Church I had an issue with.

I knelt in my room facing the camera on the East wall and prayed in all sincerity to the one true and ever living God.

"Dearest God, infinite in your forgiveness, I thank you for all you have given me. I thank you for the goodness you have shown me. Please guide me thru my life to the truth, though lies be all around me and in me. Please guide me, thru the person of my caretaker, toward the good and the light, amen."

My phone beep showing that The Church had registered my prayer.

I gave myself an enema, expelled it, and lubed my rear and lubed and carefully inserted a large butt plug. Then I joined Mister Littleton and we watched the news, me kneeling near his feet.

The violence continued. In our own city, two more heretics had been killed and the caretaker of a third had been hospitalized from the beating he took defending his two charges. If the two women hadn't joined the fight with kitchen knives, he would likely have died. Both women slept at the foot of his hospital bed and never left him since they could not be left in his home undefended and becoming the caretaker of a heretic was now a dangerous act.

When the time came for my caning, Mister Littleton carefully arranged a chair in the living room and sent me to fetch the light cane.

I stopped in the bathroom to remove my butt plug and wash my hands. Then I went to my room, removed my clothing and nervously, my hand shaking, picked up the light cane and put it in my mouth. I also opened the drawer and got out a gag which Mister Littleton had not requested, but I was going to suggest it to him. I fastened the gag around my neck.

When I got to the living room I went on all fours and carried the cane to Mister Littleton. When he took the cane, I knelt and he saw the gag around my neck and said "You're right. The gag is a good idea. Do you want to be restrained?"

"No, I should be able to hold position, or at least resume it if I break it."

"Stand," he ordered.

I stood and he got behind me and removed the gag from about my neck. "Open," he ordered and opened my mouth and he inserted the gag and buckled it in place.

He put his hand on my back and guided me to the back of the chair and help position me bending over it and grabbing the seat, my feet about a foot apart.

He reached forward and fondled my ass and sighed. Then he positioned himself and gave me the first stroke. After the impact it burned like fire. I was getting exactly what I asked for.

After the third stroke, I let myself cry and moan. I'd earned this, though my caretaker did not know it.

He did all six and then helped me to stand and held me until I stopped crying, kissing my face. He removed the gag and kissed my mouth, sliding in his tongue. He went and got the lube, lubed my rear passage some more and also his penis and slowly inserted it. When he started to fuck my ass, I was bucking back against him, my sore ass slamming against him while he took me hard. When he came, he held and stroked me, and I did not ask for the vibrator even though I had not come. I was content in his arms and wanted nothing else. I had had what I wanted from him, and that was enough for now.