Father Forgive Me: A sinfully erotic extreme horror novella. by Riot Jessa

Author:Riot, Jessa
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2023-12-03T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 15

The Confessor’s Contrition: Stigmata Martyr

Bauhaus - Stigmata Martyr

“Nothing Father? Can’t speak anymore? No worries, I can help. I’m actually a really nice person. I know how important this confession is for you Father. I can’t imagine what it must be like bearing the weight of being such a sinner for decades now, it must be super hard for you father, much unlike your little dick. But rules are rules, I can not absolve you from your sins if we don’t follow protocol. Allow me to assist”

The music stops abruptly and the dark, gothic, rumbling bass of Bauhaus’ ‘Stigmata Martyr’ begins crawling across the atmosphere.

(In a crucifixation ecstasy. Lying cross chequed in agony.)

I toss my gloves onto the floor and douse my new throne with rubbing alcohol, cleaning it off with a few Clorox wipes. On the seat, I place a giant, fluffy, purple luxury towel from the hotel. I dump an obscene amount of hand sanitizer on my hands and rub it along my arms to my elbows. After cleaning it all off of my skin with a baby wipe, I grab the wooden crucifix off of the wall and repeat the process, wiping down the glazed wood and the metal-tortured body of this guy’s savior.

(Stigmata bleed continuously. Holes in head, hands, feet, and weep for me.)

I slowly circle my prey, eying down his quivering, naked, soulless body. Every step is taken with intent. The clack of my boots muted to a slight, yet distinct, sharp thud on the soaking carpet. The power in their sound is not diminished, just altered. I rest on my purple, draped, throne of judgment and spread my legs. My mini goddess yawns and stretches to see the offering before her and she is pleased. Her drooling mouth widens. “LOOK AT ME.” Though I’m positive this mass of former man before me no longer has any remaining physical faculties to accommodate such a demand. But that is his problem, not mine.

(Stigmata, oh, you sordid sight. Stigmata in your splintered plight.)

I draw my knees up and rest the insides of them on the armrests, my pussy wide open and staring. The cool air greets her hot moisture, creating more as it trickles playfully down her crack. Her delicious nectar soaks into the towel beneath her. A treat for Parker later. Parker. I look at the camera. Licking the remaining remnants of coconut gloss from my lips. I breathe in deeply. Gripping my bottom lip with my teeth and gently releasing it, the top half of my body falls back gently against the padded chair. I smile thinking of him still watching and anticipating my moves. I imagine him stroking his cock for me in the church pew. My clit swells and throbs, my juices spilling.

(Look to your crimson orifice. In holy remembrance in scarlet bliss.)

“I will speak on your behalf, beta. Let’s recite YOUR act of contrition FATHER.” With great finesse, I perform the sign of the cross. I thoughtfully glide my fingers along my forehead.

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