by Poppet
I'm throbbing, my cock twitching, precum leaking enthusiastically. God how I've ached to do this. The first time I saw your face I knew I had to baptize it. “First I must cover your face with shame. It's your shame not mine, my body is pure and holy, my emissions are blessings, but you are corrupt so you will experience shame. Acknowledge my power.”
Masturbating, jerking off, imagining how she feels, her mouth open, greedy for my delicious body, as greedy as Eve and forbidden fruit, she'll open wide, gasping, pleading, fucking herself, her gaze rapturous at the sight of my magnificent phallus… My balls clench, my thighs have ecstasy shooting inside them to my knees, making my strength suffer seismic quakes, glory knifing down my spine when I thrust, hot cum erupting out of my shivering belly, the heat fluid and vicious when all sensation furrows grooves from my ass to my tip, the priapic purge so bountiful, shooting splendor and purity all over the pale face.
Her eyes are closed and I drop my hold to grab her hair and yank it, “Look at me when I bless you. Close your eyes when I'm working on you and I'll cut them out!”
Thick semen drools down her face, dripping down her chin to form a perfect brook of opaque magnificence between her full tits.
Grabbing one I squeeze her nipple until she shrieks, leaning to growl in her ear, “Discipline hurts, you've been lacking a firm hand. You will feel all the force of my anger and rage, until I am satisfied, Ezekiel 5:13”
I turn, wolf whistling down the corridor leading to her chamber. The single men, the elders, and my security force come at the call. They file in, already naked, and I grab a handful of her hair again, tilting her face up, “Shame it. Shame it until her eyes are covered with the Holy Spirit, we'll deliver her the way Alpha taught us. Ejaculate on this body and face until I can't see skin.”
Then I take the steps up to the viewing balcony, laughing at her terror when I stare down, at the fingering, the squeezing and fondling, the everlasting fountain of goodness housed inside my men cloaking her body, the antidote to evil, it's an acid to the wicked. Oh how satan screams when faced with gods, with the perfect, the ones made in His image with His power. We are without sin, they are redeeming her, and she will be so grateful.
Her hair is thick with it, some of them taking breaks to drink and cajole, then coming back to have another go. I knew I could count on them to help me deliver this one. Corruption has taken such a tremendous hold on her, but I will be ceaseless, tireless in my duty to god. This entire level is a series of chambers, the labyrinth to her redemption and conversion to our purity. “Thank you gentlemen, you will be rewarded for your blessings on this sinner,” I say, when I'm satisfied that she's sufficiently degraded, shamed and humiliated.
I nod to Duke who waits for the gang to file out, opening the hose and spraying her down, the force hard enough to leave her ruddy and trembling. Cold water's a real bitch when it comes with high pressure. It reminds me of that first delightful orgasm I blew into her festering womb during our remedial session.
My spirit is jubilant, the spirit strong in me now, my elation confirming that this is indeed righteous. My instincts are never wrong. “Take her to the next chamber,” I order Duke, negotiating the steps down, again ready to deliver purification.
Tying my hair back I take a short detour to collect my Cain horns, pleased that she's ready when I enter the chamber of the overflowing cup.
She's locked down over the spank plank, naked, her pussy facing the door, her head facing the wall of shame, covered in images of women who've been here before her. It's a delightful collage of what's about to unfold and I am sure that the devil inside her is ready to bolt back to the underworld at the display. I have cameras all over this place, and I do so enjoy replaying my victory over satan.
I nod to Duke again and he leaves to fetch the jug. Good man.
Selecting a willow reed from the table I walk around to her face, to her chin propped up and unable to move when we purify her, the ball gag replaced with the funnel gag.
“Candace, this rod is for discipline. Satan doesn't like to stay in a body subjected to purification. The bible tells us that discipline is a way to rectify your disobedience to god and his laws. I remind you that in sermon I explained to you, very patiently mind you, that you are under your husband's authority. He is a husband because he sows his seed in you, you are his field to plow, and this makes Kenan your husband. He covered you after purification, after you took the mark of god and your hair was removed to free you of previous transgressions against god. I have quoted to you what happens when you do what is wrong, you will be severely punished. It's that simple, sugar. You did not ask Kenan's permission to access anything other than websites fruitful to your role as a kindhearted home maker, and instead you exposed the evil still lurking in your body, the body made for man, the body owned by Kenan, you are his possession and you defied him.”
I've kept circling around her, speaking slowly in case she's mentally challenged and doesn't understand simple language because evil has blocked her ears to the words of god. Well I know how to get that evil to reopen them. Lifting my arm, gripping the cane tight, I slam the reed against her ass, the flexibility of it ensuring her vaginal core feels it too. She strains, pulling hard at the restraints, the vein in her temple plumping out, the one in the center of her forehead joining it. The funnel gag allows screams to escape and it fills my heart with joy to hear the shrieks of exorcism.
I repeat the lashings until my arm is tired and it bores me.
Duke waits, his boner so rigid he looks disfigured.
I laugh at him, smirking, “Delivering her from evil is stressful work. I need a drink.”
On cue he hands me an ice cold brew from the tub we have waiting. This is thirsty work, no doubt we'll empty that tub before the night is done. We've hours and hours and hours yet.
Slugging gulps, soothing my parched throat, I delight in the raw welts across her skin. She's bleeding on her right buttock, good. Take that satan, you will pay if you come to play in my house. You don't belong here, I will send you back to the pits of suffering. This is just a reminder of your home. Sobbing is now a constant, her crying incessant and getting on my fucking last nerve.
Strolling to her head I stare down at the woman, at the funnel waiting. “In your mouth is a funnel gag. You don't like the taste of purity, you think you have a choice, you erroneously believe that you can deny a man made in god's infallible image access to purge in your mouth. I have told you the scripture, I took the time to teach you, to instruct you, to lead you in our ways down a path only the pure walk and yet you chose to side with your satanic host, you decided your body will do what you want and not what god wants. Today I will rectify your allegiance to the devil. You will be purified from the inside out.”
This time I wank off into the funnel, watching it slide down the plastic and into her mouth, gripping the hair in her temple and brutally pulling it, commanding, “Swallow.”
Standing again I motion Duke over while I preach to the sinner, “The lord holds a cup in his hand, filled with the strong wine of his anger. He pours it out and all the wicked drink it, they drink it to the last drop Psalms 75:8. She will open her mouth as a thirsty traveller to the fountain, and will drink of every water near her, and will sit down by every hedge, and open her quiver against every arrow… Sirach 26:15. That's scripture, Candace. Now you will embrace the holy words and do as it says.”
Duke assumes position, gliding his hand up and down his shaft in commanding strokes. Excellent technique, just as I taught them. When he's spurting into the cup of the funnel, I warn her, “Swallow it, or the next time I punish you I will not be so lenient.”
Her throat is working, the gargling from the funnel echoing in the empty room when she regurgitates, fighting purification.
“Duke, watch her, if she vomits I'll fucking drown her in it.” Stepping to her exposed pussy I slide my penis in, ripples of incredible pleasure rifling through me, encompassing my senses. Oh my god, I knew she'd feel fantas
tic, I knew it. Jesus, tight cunt, a bit dry but so hot and perfect.
Riding her hard I blast baptism inside her, calling Duke for his turn with a hand beckon, going back to her face now red with anguish.
“She will open her mouth as a thirsty traveller to the fountain, and will drink of every water near her.” Picking up the jug, I smile at her, “You are very blessed Candy Caine. The men in the congregation heard about your plight, they heard about how you scorn male seed, how you are like the fallen women of Babylon who waltzed through the streets with their jewels and perfumes yet couldn't hide the stench of sin exuding from their spirit. They have tithed for you, they have given offerings from their holy bodies just for you, the community united to save your soul.”
Pouring it down the funnel, I laugh at her distress, at the hoarse wail squealing from her throat, saying, “It was this or piss. I can always arrange a golden shower for you, sugar. But a man must not spill his seed outside of you, it's your duty to not spill a drop, to drink it as I just preached from the holy book, to the last drop.”
Duke's riding her pussy so violently that she can't drink, and I shout, “Stop a second or cum already! She can't drink from the holy fountain of living water with you doing that.”
He looks like he's about to rupture a vein, shouting his orgasm, gripping her hips with such impressive strength that her skin is white with the tension.
“Finally,” I grumble, pouring the living water into her mouth via the funnel gag. Women must be silent in church, I wish we could keep them gagged permanently. They do not have god's ear, they do not house his perfection, they do not look in the mirror and see him staring back, they are good for one thing and yet they resist. They resist! And society doubts the story of the serpent, this is the proof right there. She convulses, spasming, and I growl, “Drink it or I will put you to death right here!” It takes forever, pushing my patience, making me seething with rage at her defiance.
She sags now, her eyes unfocused, and I go back to her manhole, filling it with goodness, sliding in and out and in and out, my orgasm slow to build this time. Then I take the rod to her back, until I'm done and it bleeds, now I'm satisfied to just drink and watch. I nod to Duke, and his personal workforce come to join us at his summons.
I order from my chair, drinking bourbon on ice, “Fill her cup until it overflows. Her cup must be full and flowing over because such are the blessings of god. We know she is the cup because it tells us in the Songs of Solomon. Fill her spicy cup! The bible says of sinners like you Candy Caine, and open her quiver against every arrow. Today, in this very chamber, we open your quiver to every arrow willing to save your soul.”
Duke assumes my position in front of her, taking up the slack while the gents take turns fucking and filling her, him repeating scripture, “Embrace discipline, lest at any time the Lord be angry, Psalm 2:12. And you have forgotten the consolation, which speaketh to you, as unto children, saying: My son, neglect not the discipline of the Lord; neither be thou wearied whilst thou art rebuked by him. Hebrews 12:5. Draw near to me, ye unlearned, and gather yourselves together into the house of discipline. Sirach 51:31.”
Stroking her face, he smiles as if teaching an imbecile, “I’ll return to sanctify your temple. You will receive a blessing from the Lord and righteousness from the god of your salvations. Psalm 24:5. I remind you Miss Caine that any man who plows your body is considered a husband, the word is self explanatory, and what we are doing is redeeming your soul, we are saving you from satan, for as Corinthians tells us, the unbelieving wife is sanctified by her husband. 1 Corinthians 7:14. We are sanctifying your body and soul, and as Psalms says, we will sanctify the temple, for as the disciples taught you you yourself are the temple. Be grateful Miss Caine, we are setting you free.”
Three hours later I'm a little drunk, drunk on love, staggering to the whore of heaven and unbinding her when the last man exits, pushing her off the spanking plank and surveying her plummet and roll on the messy floor, Duke still present for the clean up.
I nod when the release of the unnatural position frees her gullet and stomach, “The cathartic purge is beginning. Her body is rejecting satan. Stay with her while she expels this unholy evil. Get her cleaned up and left in my bedroom for the night. After a night with me she will be well and truly consecrated.”
Bending to her ear, I hiss softly, “Yet it pleased the Lord to bruise him; he hath put him to grief. Isaiah 53:10. This night I will bruise you from head to foot for your endless delivery of grief to my community, never again will you doubt the power of god, never again will you dare to disobey the commands and teachings of the Alpha, the Omega, the most high. He made Kenan a god, and you defied him. We are all gods, made in his image, it's time you learned to respect and obey god.”
Tears course, her spasms violent and wracking. Patting her head, I leave the room, ready to take a shower and prepare myself for a night of duty to god. This process will be repeated for three days, for the son of man went into the underworld for three days to save the souls of those captured in hell.
~ Chapter 18 ~
(Moses said to God) If you are going to treat me like this,
take pity on me and kill me,so that I won't have to endure your cruelty any longer.
~Numbers 11:15
Kenan:
I can't sleep, I can't eat, I can't function! Depleting my vodka collection in quick succession, I'm FUBAR, the room spinning, the need to vomit rife, and I squeeze my eyes shut but the twirling sensation accelerates. I'm out of fear, out of tears, out of pride. I am depleted, broken, destroyed. I've ignored my clients, the phone, all amusements and distractions, her hell wheeling around my head with ever increasing sadism and perversion. I'm living, existing, for a knock on the door. She filled this house, she left her perfume on my pillow, her touch in my skin, her laugh in my soul. She became everything and without her I've disturbingly become nothing.
Love is indeed death, it sure as hell feels like it, but in it I do not die. Real death would be mercy, but there is none because I have fallen from grace, I didn't keep temptation out of her reach. I was cuntstruck, blinded with beauty, euphoric with the musical mirth of a woman, smiling for me, gazing adoringly at me, existing just for me.
Laying with her, her bosom filled the ridges and hollows of my body, the puzzle piece that fit so well, her shapes perfect, her size just right, and I found paradise when I was inside her. No, I was beyond that, I found heaven. Deep within her I found the meaning of the word bliss. I had the song of an angel held in my hands and I lost the celestial blessing. God gave her to me knowing she would make me happy and give my life meaning it's never held, and with her I felt like I could crush mountains and hurdle Big Ben. Blossom made me invincible.
Rolling, burping enough ethanol fumes to stock a brewery, I lean on my knuckle, stifling the pity. The colors have bled from life and now I'm in the world of shadows. I miss her, I'm afraid for her, I'm fraught with guilt.
It. Hurts. To. Breathe.
There is no energy left to maul my punchbag, no weights heavy enough in the gym to match my fury. I need you. Candace I fucking need you! How could you do this to me? Why? Why wasn't I enough? You were enough for me. I've bought your pearls and bracelet, I was ready, all I wanted for the rest of my life is you.
Flopping back, my head lolling off the couch, I am frustrated. I've been through every scenario in my mind. I considered absconding with her, getting on my bike and fleeing this compound, only for reality to smash it to dust. This effing digital society has made that impossible.
For starters I'm a personal trainer, every business now has to have a website, a blog, a Facebook presence, a Twitter account. Just to look legit and get clients I have to put myself out there, online; my face won't stay hidden forever. Most bodybuilders and trainers now have vlogs where they inspire and instruct potential clients. I can't do that if I want us to stay covert.
Every traffic light with a traffic-cam can track our movements. Every train, plane, or
other mode of transport is now monitored by camera, we can't escape because hacking that system is child's play for the brotherhood. And even then all my money is here, we'd leave with nothing, and because of this surveillance gridlock on society I'll have no way to earn it doing what I know.
She thinks this place is a prison, but it's mine too. I can't leave even if I wanted to. God has people everywhere, Jude would track us in seconds, we'd both be dead, or worse, tortured and made examples of. So many faithful call him the god of love, but those who do obviously haven't read Deuteronomy 8:21-57, or Ezekiel 4 for that matter. They weren't raised in his house with his rules.
We're stuck, I can't barge into the lodge, rescue her, and make a run for it. We are bound, we are inmates, but now I will have to suffer while she recovers. If she recovers. He will have crushed all the trust I've built, smashed the love I've fostered, and annihilated the supremacy of 'one flesh'.
I can't go on like this. It's been days! She won't survive!
I won't survive.
Aaaaaaaaargh I'm going out of my fucking mind!
Cold air blows in from the night, making me lift my head and stare blearily at the now open front door. There was no point to locking it. The horned and horny struts his swagger into my hallway, smirking lecherously while rolling her with his foot, over the cold hard tiles, naked, like a big kid with a female shaped football.
Lurching to my feet, I sit again just as fast when bile bullets up my gullet, the lounge blurring out of focus.