by Poppet
I look at Kenan, at his penis now erect and coloring with the surge of blood. He's familiar with this drill, but it's astounding me. We're going to spit in the devil's eye and copulate? Right here? In church! Holy shit!
“Ladies! Please spread your legs and put your feet up on your chair. Wide as you can. Praise god!”
A hundred people do as he says, vaginas front and center for Vicar Matthew. What the fuck!
Kenan's strong hands vice my knees and he forces my legs apart, giving me a warm smile, whispering, “Trust me, you will love this.”
Matthew continues speaking over Ken, “Some of you are without partners, singles please couple up for the service, and Miss Spencer you can be my partner.”
I watch a lanky redhead go sauntering up the stairs to the melody of a few poetic violin strains. Ken has to manhandle me to get me to cooperate because I think I'm too stunned to simply comply. My father would have me publicly flogged for this kind of behavior.
The air is cool on my sex and I feel like a big fat slut sitting with my vagina hanging out in public. I must have rocks in my head. Watching Matthew strapping a camera to his forehead, the stage behind him becomes a TV screen when the curtains part like our legs are doing, showing what his camera sees. Turning back to us, he briefly gets Miss Spencer to take a seat on a chair set off to the right.
“Gentlemen, it is time to get on your knees. Ladies, we all pray on our knees, we worship on our knees, it's not that we prefer you do it doggie style, we just want you to be seen as pure in god's eyes. He likes us humble, he likes us to show him that we revere his power when we worship, so when you adore your man you do it on your knees, when he adores you he gets down on his knees, and when you fornicate you're both on your knees. Not always, but enough to please god. Show him you are worthy! Get on your knees and follow his first command to his creation, that resembles him to the point he named us gods. Gentlemen please position your faces in front of the vagina of your partner.”
Holy mother of god. I'm so confused!
Kenan holds onto my thighs, keeping them far apart, his breath warm on my skin. Sitting like this, oddly enough, is making me horny.
Watching the screen, I listen to the sermon, “Women were made for pleasure, ours. Women have more than eight thousand sensory nerve endings in the clitoris. The meaning of the word clitoris is 'tickler'. It is your duty, gentlemen, to understand female biology, because your god planted desire in her, she is easy to please, easy to arouse, easy to bring to climax. She is easy boys, and today you will find out just how easy it is to stimulate a lady into begging for penetration. Genesis says she is under your dominion, so wield your dominion well! Be the man god created you to be by watching what I do on this screen, listen to my words, and follow my instruction as a messenger of the most high.”
It feels like everyone is holding their breath, rapt.
“The clitoris is the female penis,” Matthew goes on to say, positioning himself in front of Miss Spencer, giving the audience a close up of all the lady privates. “It becomes erect with stroking and stimulation, most of my flock know all about stroking a penis and how good that feels, don't you gentlemen?”
A spatter of laughter greets his teasing.
“Us gentlemen are visual creatures, just staring at this magnificent and complicated passage of the female genitalia is enough to make us ready to ravage. This is in no way an altruistic gesture, this is as much an arousing act for us to perform as it is for our ladies to receive. Watch closely boys, look at how I'm using two fingers to rub small circles over the flesh just above her vagina.”
Kenan starts rubbing me the way Matthew is rubbing Miss Spencer, and good grief but it's spot on.
Matthew laughs throatily, saying into his mic, “Feel that folks? Feel how the rigidity develops under your fingers, how her legs widen without her even being conscious of it?”
“Amen!” shouts from the peanut gallery.
This is wicked, I'm going to cum in church.
“Sorry ladies but we have to stop for a moment for the manfolk to see this. Gentlemen please stop playing with the C spot and watch the screen.”
Like them, I watch, glimpsing Miss Spencer with sparkly eyes and rosy cheeks, her legs so wide she must be a ballet dancer.
Up on the screen Matthew continues to teach, “Use both thumbs and force the skin covering the clitoris up. The clitoris has a foreskin, lift it up. Do you see that now that it's exposed? It's smaller than a pencil eraser, and erect it looks white against the tissue-thin skin covering it. What I've done is lift the hood off the clitoris to reveal it to you. That is where your tongue belongs! We all wear hoods at our gatherings because rapture hides under a hood, like a woman's hair veils her beauty she also has a hood veiling this secret. The tickler should be tickled, gentlemen. Now keeping the foreskin raised plant your lips over that little nub of aroused female sexuality, suck it gently, lick it softly with your tongue the way you circled it with your fingers, and don't stop until she screams praise. You don't like her being rough with your penis, you like it soft and hot and slippery. Treat her penis the same way, the C spot likes it soft and warm and slippery.”
Kenan's stubble presses into my skin and his mouth covers me, his fingers pushing up, and the sensitivity is enough to make me gasp. It's kinetic and amplified, the sensation raw and almost unbearable without the hood covering it. Holeeeee custard!
Miss Spencer is filling Matthew's mic with huge gasps to intercept his slurping noises, and the atmosphere becomes charged with rough breathing all around. Heavy petting just got biblical.
My ability to rationalize is disintegrating, my climax building and building, my issues discarded because I don't care how this gets done, hallelujah for a priest taking the time to get it right! He's not leaving us in the dark, he's making his flock's sexual compatibility his personal problem.
I heard most women get divorced because they're dissatisfied with the sex they get at home, because after eighteen years her husband still doesn't know what makes her tick or how to get her to orgasm without her help.
Custard! I'm cumming! My cheeks explode with heat, my heart is racing, my passive rationale blank when I crest the sensation and convulse, holding onto my ankles. Good god.
Kenan sits back, a self indulgent smirk on his face, turning to watch Miss Spencer climax for the good lord.
Matthew looks at us, smiling at the yelps and screams of orgasm, rising to his feet and unbuttoning the top button on his jeans, saying, “Next Sunday we'll explore the vagina, exposing where to touch and massage her inside, with or without your penis, so that she learns to crawl for more of those blessings from god. Now ladies, please kneel on the floor, support yourselves on your chairs as it is now time for you to be under your husband's dominion. The term husbandry mean to plow, to farm, it is not a spiritual contract contrived in a church. Adam and Eve were not called husband and wife, they were called companions because god sought to provide Adam with a companion and none of the animals quite fit the bill, so he created Eve so he'd have a suitable companion, one of his own kind. As it says in Genesis 2:18, It is not good for a man to live alone, I will make a suitable companion for him. The man is the farmer and you are his soil, he is referred to as husband for this reason, not because of a spiritual contract, or a legal one, but for the act of husbandry he bestows on you. If you let him sow his seed in your soil then he is your husband by title, not by contract. Ladies you were created for this purpose, for man to plow, to farm, you are where he sows his seed, and it feels so good because this was how we were created by godly decree, by design, you are under your partner's dominion and now it is time for you to allow him access to that field so he can do his duty to god. As Genesis says A man will cleave to her and they will be one flesh. Every man here has a raging boner and has to enjoy his own rapture, it is time to cleave! You ladies have received, now open up and let your cup overflow with blessings. Let your partner cleave you and become one flesh. God has ordered it! As it says in Mat
thew six: Happy are those whose greatest desire is to do what God requires. God will satisfy them fully! Matthew 5: 6 . Gentlemen, let us satisfy them fully, let us receive satisfaction fully, god requires that you go forth and copulate, now do as your god commanded. Slip inside the narrow passage, for the Kingdom of god is only accessed through the narrow gate. Because strait is the gate, and narrow is the way, which leadeth unto life, and few there be that find it. Matthew 7:14”
Kenan rearranges me over my chair faster than I can blink and I'm on my knees on the carpet, the wide leg room now making complete sense. He's inside me, pounding in and out, filling me, rushing to the point of no return. My boobs rubbing back and forth under my blouse over the chair is enough to make me over aroused.
Matthew continues shouting at us, “And God saw everything that He had made, and behold, it was very good and He approved it completely. Genesis 1:31. He approved completely ladies and gentlemen, he approved completely when he told his creation to be fruitful and multiply, to fill the Earth, when he looked on us made in their image with their likes! And on this day he didn't just think it was good, he thought it was very good! And we concur! It is very good, nothing on earth feels like a penis inside a vagina! According to God's own words it is not evil, but it is very good! We do not disagree with god, we are happy to do what he sees is very good, we are happy to be made in his image, we are delighted to do as told and follow his command!”
Resting my cheek on the velvet, I stare down the row while Kenan plows into me biblically, at all the naked bottoms pegging in and out, glutes clenching and releasing, lady thighs and legs wobbling with motion.
This is nuts. We're all fucking, even the vicar. I can hear him in his microphone giving Miss Spencer an overflowing cup of 'made in god's image' seedlings. Closing my eyes I wonder what we'll learn next. I want to know, it's enough to overcome my horror and shame. To them this is natural, and the bible even says so. It's society that's fucked up, not Vicar Matthew. One command, go forth and multiply.
And I like it, I like it a little too much.
But that's because, in his words, God made me that way.
These women orgasm at home, in church, they copulate daily. No more elbowing for bedroom space, if I stay here as Kenan wants, I'll be a lucky lady. He's hot, he's thoughtful, he's worried about Jan's issues ruining my life, and he'll keep me cumming 'til the cows come home.
Well I think I have a reason to start yelling 'praise the lord'.
He sags over me, pressing a kiss onto my temple, his voice shaking when he whispers, “Stay. Be mine, always.”
~ Chapter 8 ~
Like an apple tree among the trees of the forest, so is my beloved among the young men. In his shade I took great delight and sat down, and his fruit was sweet to my taste.
~Song of Songs 2:3
Candace:
We're fully dressed again, everyone with happy smiles and sex warmed cheeks, the entire auditorium ripe with the aroma of body fluids, when I notice camera arms pulling back from high above us, their operators busy at work.
This was filmed? For real?
Kenan sits for a moment, pulling me onto his knee, looking into me with charismatic eyes, holding me tight to say, “Blossom, this is important. Matthew told you that Psalm 51 says And after You have punished me, give me back my joy again. That is why I gave you a diamond necklace. Not because you are my whore but because I wanted to restore your joy. Please don't misunderstand the reward system. I do it because you have pleased me, because you have done something good in god's eyes, because you will be disciplined and chastised when you mess up but that no pain will last. After you have endured humiliation or pain for your ignorance, I will make it better, because love cares enough to dispel misery. Okay? You understand now, right?”
He's right, coming to his church has changed my perspective of his actions completely. It makes me feel ashamed for judging him. I nod, the right words of contrition evading me. The way he woke me up is the way they worship and celebrate, it is them being good. It's not an ass of a man having his selfish way with my body, but the converse. I'm either horrifically ignorant or the recipient of the most elaborate prank in history.
Smiling, he cups my head and delivers a kiss that could melt a statue before standing with me and holding my hand, looking my way as we negotiate, saying again, “Stay? Always? Don't leave me. Please?”
I nod again, wondering why I'm so in awe of him, of this secret community and their ways. It's liberating, so much so that I feel giddy. I'm lethargic from shenanigans and probably more complacent because of it. Plus it's not like I have anywhere to go right now. My life went to hell in a plume of Jan flames. We're just ready to file out when Matthew sidles up to us, putting a heavy hand on my shoulder, saying to Kenan (not me), “Stay back for a word.”
Kenan nods, worrying his fingers through his hair to wait for everyone to leave. Only one person remains, seated, up there at the top of the auditorium.
Now that all is reverently quiet, Matthew turns to me with a smile, “Candace, don't be resentful over today's sermon. You gave me the perfect excuse to remind my flock of the importance of the first commandment. You are made gorgeous, in god's image, and for you to experience shame at all is a tragedy. We love the female form, we love all women great and small, each one of you has something we can't help but stare in awe at, wanting to touch it and feel it, inside and out.”
I'm blushing again, my chest has just become all hot and itchy.
Ignoring Kenan, Matthew squeezes the hand on my shoulder, saying, “I think it would help you immensely to join the catechism class.”
Kenan answers for me, “I concur. Blossom, I'll be back here in an hour to pick you up. Trust me, you'll learn a lot from catechism.”
I open and shut my mouth like a guppy, feeling pressured and manipulated. Then Matthew says to Ken, “And you know the rules, Kenan. She needs to go for the ritual cleansing.”
He nods, flopping his fringe onto his forehead, “Yup. She will. I have her booked in at nine tomorrow morning.”
I look between them, utterly lost. “Say what?”
Kenan smiles, the endearing heartbreaker smile, “I'll explain it all to you when you're done with catechism.”
Matthew instead says, “Don't bother. I have to explain it to Mya, she's also got catechism now. The two of them can go together and offer each other moral support. It's wonderful having initiates starting at the same time.”
Glancing back up at the lone figure hiding in the top tier, I gather she's Mya. I have separation anxiety when Kenan kisses me goodbye, leaving me alone with the freak wearing the horns.
He leads us both behind the stage, into an office come kitchen setup, indicating we should sit at the oblong table in his sanctuary. I follow orders, looking about, tense.
While he sets up, he says, “All sinners are supposed to have their hair removed by a priest. It says in Isaiah 7:20 that the priest will shave off your beards, the hair on your heads, and your bodies. But here in our church we are reminded that a woman's hair covers her head to show she is under her husband's authority 1 Corinthians 11:7, and for this reason we will leave your head alone, but you will both have to go to our spa in the morning to undertake this ritual cleansing. This will now become your routine because I can't see every sin you think and feel, but God can, and so to make sure he forgives you, you must ensure the rest of your body remains absolutely hairless. It's biblical law. Your beards are between your legs and that has to go.”
Now I know why Kenan has no hair on his body. It's probably still growing back from the last time he sinned. Looking at the vicar's long hair I imagine this is some kind of visual confirmation that he's a good guy in god's eyes.
Matthew smiles at us, tying his hair back and putting fake phalluses down in front of us, and then seating himself at the head of the table. “Ladies, catechism is alone time with me to help you catch up with sermons you've missed. It's imperative that you come up to speed with the level of the c
ongregation so you don't feel left out. I refuse to let that happen on my watch. Now, in front of you you have fairly rigid penis substitutes. It is not biblical for a man to spill his sperm when he has a perfectly wonderful woman with which to share his bounty. Today I will teach you how to perform fellatio so that he is never forced to spill his crop on anything other than you.”
I look incredulously at Mya and then back at Matthew, “I beg your pardon?”
Laughing at my discomfort, he sits back and folds his arms, saying, “Candy, don't fall into old and evil habits. The sinners out in the world would have you believe that sucking and fucking is devil's work. They are wrong, it is biblical, it's commanded, and rest assured that I am here to ensure that not only does your partner touch you and stimulate you to the heights of heavenly pleasure, but am here so that you will do the same for him.”