70. The Devil’s Whore

Trigger Warnings: Taboo themes (religious sacrilege), power imbalance, rough sexual play, choking, spanking, facial abuse, and explicit language.

Selene

    The air in the Cedar Creek Chapel was thick with the scent of floor wax and old hymnals, a smell that had defined the nineteen years of my life. My father, Preacher Miller, saw this place as a sanctuary. I saw it as a cage. Every Sunday, I stood on the altar in my white lace dresses, the living embodiment of "purity" for the congregation to admire. But as the summer sun beat down on the stained glass, casting long, crimson shadows across the pews, I knew my holiness was a hollow shell.

I wasn't alone.

Cade was leaning against the heavy oak pulpit, his leather jacket a dark stain against the sacred wood. He was the camp rebel, the boy with the cigarette behind his ear and the violent, hungry eyes that had been tracking me since the first day of the youth retreat. He didn't belong here, which was exactly why I had stolen the keys to the chapel and whispered the time to him behind the cafeteria.

"You're late, Preacher's Daughter," Cade rumbled, his voice a low, jagged vibration that made my pussy give a treacherous, wet throb.

"I had to wait for my father to finish his prayer circle," I whispered, my heart hammering against my ribs. "Cade, if we get caught..."

"If we get caught, you'll be a martyr and I'll be the devil who tempted you," he smirked, stepping forward into my space. He reached out and grabbed my chin, his thumb pressing into my bottom lip. "But you didn't bring me here to pray, did you, Selene? You brought me here to see if the altar feels different when you're being defiled on it."

The bluntness of his words made my breath hitch. I reached up and fumbled with the buttons of my modest floral dress, my fingers shaking. "I want to be ruined. I want everyone to look at me and know I'm not the perfect little church girl anymore."

Cade didn't wait. He grabbed the collar of my dress and ripped it down the center, the sound of the fabric tearing echoing through the silent chapel. "Good. Because I'm going to make sure your father smells me on you for a week."

He shoved me back onto the altar, the cold marble biting into my skin through my thin slip. I looked up at the crucifix on the wall, and for the first time in my life, I felt a thrill of pure, unadulterated power. I wasn't the lamb anymore.

"On your knees, Selene," Cade commanded, his voice a sharp, jagged rasp.

I obeyed, the red carpet of the pulpit rough against my bare knees. Cade unzipped his jeans, and his cock sprang free-thick, dark, and already pulsing with a desperate, heavy need. It was the first one I had ever seen, a terrifying and beautiful instrument of my destruction.

"Suck it," he hissed, his hand wrapping around my throat, squeezing just enough to make my vision spark. "I want to hear you choke on the sin you've been hiding."

I took him into my mouth, my jaw aching as I accommodated his massive girth. He tasted of salt and the hot, summer air. While I worked, Cade's other hand found my tits, his fingers pinching my nipples through my lace bra until I was whimpering around him.

"Yes... eat it, you little saint," he mocked. "Call me Daddy. Tell me how much you love being your Daddy's little blasphemy."

"I love it... Daddy... please," I choked out, my eyes glazed with a mixture of fear and white-hot arousal.

He pulled back and reached into his pocket, pulling out a condom. "I'm going to keep you 'pure' for a minute, Selene. I want to feel how tight that virgin pussy is before I really start the desecration."

He rolled the latex on and forced me onto my back on the altar. He hiked my legs over his broad shoulders, my pussy exposed and glistening in the flickering candlelight. He didn't waste time with foreplay; he guided the head to my entrance and drove into me with a single, grounding thrust that buried him deep within my heat.

I let out a long, shattered cry that bounced off the vaulted ceiling. The pain was a sharp, white light, followed immediately by a heavy, pulsing pressure that filled me to the absolute limit.

"Oh god... Cade... it's so big," I gasped, my internal muscles clenching around the latex-covered rod in a frantic, rhythmic dance.

"You're so tight, it's a sin," Cade growled, his pace becoming a slow, punishing missionary rhythm. He wasn't gentle. Every slam of his hips was a statement of ownership, a brutal erasure of my father's teachings. "Is this what they taught you in Sunday school? Did they tell you how good it feels to have a rebel hammering into your pussy on the holy of holies?"

"No... oh god... more! Fuck me, Master!" I screamed, the taboo of the words fueling my climax. "Make me yours! Ruin me!"

The rhythm became a frantic, wet percussion. Cade was a force of nature, his hands marking my hips with a proprietary grip. He flipped me over, forcing me into another position on all force while he fucked me from behind.. I looked down at the Bible resting on the stand just inches from my face as he hammered into me from behind. I reached out and gripped the edges of the pulpit, my tits bouncing with every thrust.

"I'm done with the protection," Cade hissed.

He pulled out with a wet, squelching sound, ripped the condom off, and tossed it toward the pews. He entered me raw this time, the heat of his skin against mine making me sob with relief. The friction was a million times more intense, a raw, skin-on-skin friction that made my head spin.

"I'm going to mark you, Selene," he whispered, his teeth grazing my ear. "I'm going to put my seed where everyone can see it."

He delivered a sharp, stinging slap to my ass, the sound echoing like a gunshot. Crack. "Beg for it! Tell me you want the devil's cum on your face!"

"Please! Give it to me! I want to be your slut! I want everyone to see what you did to me!"

I increased the pace of my hips, my pussy milking him for everything he was worth. I felt the white-hot spark of my own climax beginning to bloom-a tension so tight it felt like I was going to explode.

"I'm close, Selene! I'm going to cum on the Preacher's daughter's face!" Cade roared, his voice a primal, guttural sound of triumph.

He pulled out of my pussy just as I hit my peak, my body racking with a series of violent, rhythmic spasms. He spun me around, forcing me onto my back, and grabbed my hair to hold my head steady.

"Look at me, you little whore!" he commanded, his eyes blown wide.

He began to stroke himself frantically, his breath coming in short, sharp gasps. He erupted. A hot, thick stream of cum hit my forehead, splashing down across my eyes and my cheeks. He fired again and again, the white, hot mess coating the face that had been the pride of the church.

"There," he panted, his body shaking with the force of the release. "Now you're truly baptized."

I stayed there for a moment, the weight of his cum on my skin a warm, sticky blanket. I looked up at the cross, then back at Cade, and I felt a sense of absolute, unshakeable freedom. The Preacher's daughter was dead, and in her place was a woman who knew exactly what she was worth.

Cade wiped his cock on my discarded dress and zipped his jeans. "See you Sunday, Selene. I'll be in the front row, watching you try to keep a straight face."

He slipped out the side door, leaving me alone in the dark. I touched the cum on my cheek, smeared it across my lips, and smiled. The sanctuary was desecrated, and for the first time in nineteen years, I finally felt like I was free. 

My hand touched my face, feeling Cade's cum drip down and I smiled.