Prayer From Pulp Fiction Novels & Stories

I murmur, “But isn’t it so? I couldn’t bring you a pie and strawberries, could I, Zahir?” His lips curl into a small smile and he raises his arm to pull my cheek, “Right.” I hum. “Now, let’s pray. Shall we?” I give my hands upon which his pretty blue eyes fall. Well, my outfit is too blue! “Of course,” he takes my hands, softly caressing the back of my palms before holding them firmly. I close my eyes and so he does before saying, “Heavenly Father, we thank you for providing us according to your mercies as you’re the most compassionate God, the Lord Most High. We thank you in the name of Jesus. Amen.”

I opened my eyes and stared right into his. “You want to taste it again, don’t you?” “Yes,” he gasped. “You want to be between my thighs while I cum.” “Yes, please.” “Then pray.” He blinked. I laughed. “Out loud. Pray for my orgasm, Father.” He swallowed hard, but he obeyed. “Dear Lord,” he began, voice shaking, “please let this beautiful, powerful woman cum hard and fully. Let her feel pleasure I could never deserve. Let her use me to get it. Amen.”

The jealousy gnawed deeper with every second. Then the door on his side creaked open. Fabric rustled as he settled. I held my breath, staring at the shadowed screen. He couldn’t see me—not clearly—unless he leaned close to the small grate. I stayed silent until I was sure he was seated. He made the sign of the cross, voice low and steady. “In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.” A pause. “You may begin. Tell me your sins.”

“Being taken. Hard. Not asked. Just… used.” I wanted to die. The silence on the other side was suffocating. Then his voice dropped lower. “And whose hands did you imagine?” My whole body trembled. I couldn’t say it. “I—I don’t—” “Yes, you do.” His voice was absolute. “Say it.” Tears burned my eyes. I choked out, “Yours.” The word shattered me. Finally, his tone shifted. Priest again. “For your penance, you will pray ten Hail Marys tonight. And you will pray for strength to resist temptation.”

A prayer. My fingers touched his face—cold, too cold. His lips were parted slightly, unmoving. His chest— I waited for it to rise. I begged it to rise. But it didn’t. A sound tore from deep in my chest—raw, shapeless, unrecognizable even to myself. I pressed my forehead to his, tremors wracking through me. Rain mixed with tears, soaking both our faces. “You promised…” My voice cracked. “You promised you’d see me on the other side…”

Just as I sighed, a distant, ethereal voice reached my ears. It was hard to decide whether it was a man or a woman, real or an illusion. The voice asked me what I wanted most in my life. I thought for a long time, then whispered the word, "Love." In the next moment, blinding white light filled my vision. When I opened my eyes again, I was back to the day I had won the lottery.

“And what happens to the boner?” He shrugs, “Same thing that has always happened to others. It’ll go on its own.” My eyes drop down to the barely concealed hardness, he was swollen and showing even through his cassock. I swallow, I missed seeing it by the slimmest of chances. “Well played Father Aryan. Well played. I respect that.” He flashes me a small smile that spoke volumes. He was feeling proud of his one move. “How does one get the special prayers privilege?” He frowned, I could almost see the wheels in his head turning as he wondered what angle I was coming from.

I need to count to 15 1,2,3,4,5,6,7,8,9,10,11,12,13,14,15 "What the hell is happening to him," Luca says in confusion Feeling the drug course through my body for the first time in a long time I start to pray. Heavenly Father I am a sinner and I ask for forgiveness. Could I live to see another day just so I could hear my darling girl call me Dada and my future wife call me Hanii just one more time...Amen

That's the only feeling he feels anyway! "Ple-ase forg-ive us, Ki-ing!" I hear a familiar voice stuttering. I looked at him in confusion. Why are they apologizing to him? What happened?

The silk prayer ropes dangled from his hands. “Yes, Father-Husband,” I whispered, dropping before the altar. My knees ached against the cool floor, but the pain felt holy. He blindfolded me with a soft black cloth, plunging me into darkness. “Recite the longer submission while I train your throat.” I opened my mouth eagerly, tears already pricking my eyes. His thick cock pressed past my lips, stretching me. “My body is Your temple… my holes belong to my Father-Husband,” I mumbled around him, gagging as he pushed deeper.