FUCKED BY MY REVEREND FATHER II

Marcus led Grace through the maze of corridors beneath the megachurch....past empty Sunday school rooms, past the baptismal changing areas, down to the storage basement where old sound equipment and unused furniture gathered dust.

No one would come down here on a Sunday morning.

No one would hear them.

"On your knees," Marcus commanded, releasing her wrist.

Grace sank down onto the cold concrete floor, and Marcus freed his cock...still hard despite having just come, still massive and intimidating.

"Open your mouth."

Grace obeyed, and Marcus pushed inside, groaning as her lips stretched around his girth.

"That's it. Take it. Show me what that pretty mouth can do."

He fucked her face with brutal efficiency, his hands gripping her hair, using her throat like a toy. Grace gagged, tears streaming down her face, but she took it because some twisted part of her wanted this. Wanted to be used by him. Wanted to be the secret sin of this holy man.

"Look at me," Marcus commanded, and Grace's eyes met his. "Perfect. So fucking perfect with my cock down your throat. If your parents could see you now. Their good Christian daughter, on her knees for a married pastor in a church basement."

He pulled out suddenly, his cock slick with her saliva, and pulled her to her feet.

"Against the wall. Face first."

Grace pressed her palms against the cold cinderblock wall, and Marcus kicked her feet apart, positioning himself behind her. This time when he entered her, it was from a different angle....deeper, more punishing.

"Fuck!" Grace cried out, her voice echoing in the empty basement.

"Scream all you want," Marcus growled, starting to pound into her with inhuman force. "No one can hear us down here. Let me hear how much you love this cock."

Grace screamed as he destroyed her....each thrust driving her forward against the wall, her palms scraping against rough concrete, her body overwhelmed by sensation. His cock hit her cervix with every stroke, pushing against her womb, and it hurt so good she couldn't think straight.

"This pussy is mine," Marcus declared, one hand wrapping around her throat from behind...not choking, just controlling. "Say it."

"My pussy is yours!" Grace sobbed.

"And who do you belong to?"

"You! God, I belong to you!"

"That's right. Not to God. Not to any future husband. To me. Your reverend. Your master." His other hand slid down to rub her clit, and Grace was coming again, screaming his name, her body convulsing.

Marcus didn't stop. Kept fucking her through it, his stamina seemingly endless, and Grace lost count of how many times she came before he finally groaned and filled her again....this time pulling out to finish on her ass and back, marking her.

When Grace could finally breathe again, she turned to see Marcus tucking himself away, looking completely composed.

"We need to get upstairs," he said, checking his watch. "Service starts in an hour. I need to pray and prepare." The hypocrisy of those words....after what they'd just done....was staggering.

"Marcus...."

"We'll talk later." He cupped her face almost tenderly. "Clean up. Meet me in the sanctuary in forty minutes. And Grace? Wear what I gave you."

Grace's stomach dropped. "No. Please, not that...."

"Yes." His eyes hardened. "I want to know you're wearing it while I preach. While my wife sits in the front row. While you take notes on my sermon about purity." He smiled darkly. "It'll be our little secret."

****

Forty-five minutes later, Grace sat in her usual spot in the sanctuary...second row, stage right, iPad ready to take sermon notes for the church blog.

And inside her, the remote-controlled vibrator Marcus had given her three weeks ago sat lodged against her G-spot, awaiting his command.

The sanctuary filled with ten thousand members. The worship band played. Marcus's wife Sarah took her place in the front row with their children. And then Marcus himself walked onto the stage....commanding, charismatic, every inch the man of God.

"Good morning, Prosperity Covenant!" His voice boomed through the sound system, and the congregation roared approval.

Grace's hands tightened on her iPad as Marcus began to preach about faithfulness in marriage, about resisting temptation, about the sanctity of the marriage bed.

And then she felt it....a low vibration starting inside her.

Her eyes shot to Marcus, and he was looking directly at her, his expression serene, his words about fidelity flowing smoothly even as he tortured her with the remote in his pocket.

The vibration increased, and Grace bit her lip, trying to stay still, trying to look normal while pleasure built inside her. Around her, thousands of people worshipped, sang, listened to their pastor's words about righteousness.

None of them knew he was making his secretary come during the sermon.

Grace's orgasm hit without warning, and she barely managed to stay quiet, her body trembling, her fingers white-knuckled on her iPad. Marcus never stopped preaching, his eyes meeting hers with a satisfied smirk before moving on to scan the rest of the congregation.

When service ended ninety minutes later, Grace was a wreck....she'd come four times during the sermon, each one more intense than the last. She could barely walk as she headed back to her office.

She'd barely sat down when her desk phone rang.

"Grace. My study. Now." Marcus's voice, then he hung up.

Grace walked to his study on shaking legs and found him alone, his wife presumably greeting congregants.

"Lock the door," he commanded.

"Marcus, we can't—your wife—"

"Is busy for the next twenty minutes. Lock. The. Door."

Grace locked it.

Marcus pulled her to him, his mouth claiming hers in a bruising kiss. "You did so well today. Staying quiet while I made you come in front of everyone." His hand slid up her skirt, finding her soaked. "And you're still ready for more. Insatiable little thing."

"Please," Grace whispered, not even sure what she was begging for anymore.

Marcus sat in his leather chair and pulled her onto his lap, impaling her on his massive cock in one smooth thrust. Grace gasped, gripping his shoulders, and he started bouncing her on his lap with brutal force.

"Ride me," he commanded. "Show me how desperate you are."

Grace did, lifting herself up and slamming back down, taking all fourteen inches over and over, chasing another orgasm even though her body was already exhausted.

"That's it. Use my cock. Take what you need." Marcus's hands gripped her hips, helping her move faster, harder. "Such a good little whore for me. You love this, don't you? Love being fucked by a married pastor in his church office."

"Yes!" Grace sobbed. "God yes, I love it..."

"There is no God here," Marcus growled. "Just me. Just this." He thrust up particularly hard, and Grace screamed, coming apart in his lap.

Marcus followed seconds later, groaning as he filled her once more.

When Grace finally collapsed against his chest, gasping, Marcus stroked her hair almost tenderly.

"Same time next week?" he murmured against her temple.

And despite everything...the shame, the sin, the wrongness of it all...Grace nodded.

Because she was addicted. To him. To this. To being the dirty secret of a man of God.

And she had no idea how to stop.

Even if she wanted to.

Which she didn't.

God forgive her.