Petr’s eyes misted at the memory. His parents had since died—the years of struggle had aged them and both had died in their early sixties. He missed them daily. How they would have loved to see their son dressed in his red cassock with his four-pointed hat showing to all who witnessed that not only had he risen to the level of Cardinal, but he had obtained a doctorate as well.
Not many Catholics knew the difference between the three pointed versus the four pointed square caps that Cardinals wore, but those who did know, respected the men. In his poor, struggling country of Czechoslovakia, studying at the university in secret while working in a factory made the reward that much sweeter.
He needed to go back to his home city of Prague where the political struggles were rising between traditional Catholics and those who wanted to open their doors to community members that the traditionalists wanted to keep out. The same age-old struggle that had been going on since before Christ. Different titles, same conflict. Samaritans, Jews, Muslims, and homosexuals—the puritanical pushing out those that didn’t fit their mold.
Just this past week, His Holiness the Pope had asked Petr to make a trip home, bringing about peace where possible. He’d asked if he could bring his aide and secretary. Both Eliska and Jakub were from Prague and would be of great help to him—they were both his right hand most days. Permission had been granted, of course.
If the Pope only knew how deep his relationship with Eliska had become. Would he be excommunicated? Would he be disciplined? Would they make her leave?
Jakub knew the relationship between Petr and Eliska had blossomed but had no interest in causing any drama, having admitted that Petr was only one of dozens and dozens of priests and cardinals that were having affairs.
Petr’s mind immediately went to the young man from America that had convinced His Holiness to change the canon law, allowing married priests and their wives at the Apostolic Palace and in the Catholic Church as a whole.
Times were changing…and maybe, just maybe, he’d be able to continue his love of the Catholic Church and his love of Eliska.
“There you are.”
Turning toward the melodic voice, he saw his girl. Eliska. Even her name made his heart jump. Her pale blue eyes shone with her smile, a small dimple in her cheek deepening. Her petite hand pushed a long strand of her flaxen hair behind her ear.
With a nod of his head, Petr motioned for her to enter a grotto at the far side of the garden. The earthen stone cave smelled musky and was much cooler than the already cool day outside. Their eyes adjusted slowly from the bright sunshine to the darkness, and they shuffled slowly until a bright stand of candles helped the transition along.
He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her tightly to his chest, her nose only coming to the middle of it. “I missed you, baby. How’s your day been?”
She leaned back in his arms, looking up at him. Even in the semi-dark room, the light freckles on her nose showed, and he couldn’t resist kissing the tip of it before she could speak.
“I have so much to do, and, of course, Cardinal Rossi has heard about us leaving for Prague and is piling any anticipated paperwork on my desk before I go. I may just lose it, Petr. I’m not sure I can do it.” Her eyebrows were knit, her nostrils flaring with her anger.
“Little girl, you know how I feel about you yelling or displaying anger at the Cardinals.” He growled his response to her. She had a fiery personality and would spark quickly with little warning. There weren’t many men in the Apostolic Palace that hadn’t been burned by his little dragon. But with some incentive, and a red bottom to match her red-hot temper, she’d learned how to become a somewhat serene and controlled administrative assistant. “It’s important that you keep your emotions under control—even when you feel you’re being slighted. Speak if you must, but be respectful.”
“I know.” She sighed loudly, resting her forehead on his chest, moaning in frustration, the sound causing his cock to stir. He loved her little growl…in a sexual way, of course.
Although she was only twenty-four and young enough to be his daughter, they had so much in common, and her need for his authority and love surpassed the age gap. He couldn’t imagine loving anyone more than he loved Eliska Petrova.
“I’ll be asking Cardinal Rossi how things are going later. I’d better receive a good report.” He tilted her chin up, glaring at her. In truth, although he cared about her demeanor and manners, he loved nothing more than warming her bottom, looking for any excuse. And if she behaved herself, he’d still spank her for being a good girl. It was a win-win situation for him.
“Yes, Sir.” She nodded her head silently. “I’ll be a good girl.”
“You’re always a good girl. It’s just sometimes you need some tears to put that fiery tongue out.” He couldn’t hide his smile. He found her adorable.
He walked with her to a pew in the back of the grotto, casually holding her hand in his. “We need to talk about Prague. You’re getting the airline ticket and arrangements made?”
“I’m trying; if Cardinal Rossi will leave me the hell alone!” She clasped her hand over her mouth. “Oh my gosh. I just swore in the grotto.”
“Mmm-hmm, it appears that you’re a pressure cooker today, my dear. I’d like to think you’ll have a good report today, but I’m not holding out much hope. If I had some discretion here, you’d be getting spanked. And you know it.”
“Yes. I’m sorry.” Her eyes welled with tears. Such a sweet girl, her spirit was sweet under all that bluster.
“Is your anální kolík in your handbag at the office?”
“Ohhh. But…yes, my butt plug is in my purse.” She wrung her hands in her lap.
“You’ll put it in as soon as you return to your desk. I want a ‘minder for the rest of the day, and this will keep you centered.” He pinched her chin between his finger and thumb. “And you’ll send me a picture of your bottom with the pacifier in place.”
Her cheeks turned pink with embarrassment. “Yes, Sir.”
Standing abruptly, he guided her to the entryway of the grotto. “Now isn’t a good time to discuss travel plans; you’re stressed enough. You need to focus on Cardinal Rossi for now. I’ll intervene tomorrow if he’s taking up too much time. Until then, you do as you’re told, ano?”
“Yes—ano.”
Placing two crisp slaps to her skirted bottom, he sent her off, wagging his finger in her direction. “Behave!”
Chapter 2
Eliska walked away quickly with her head down, fighting the urge to look back over her shoulder. She loved him so much and on days like this, she wanted to do nothing more than just…run. Run anywhere, with him, finding a secret place to rendezvous away from possible peering eyes and scorn.
Yet, she understood his love of the Catholic Church, the love of Christ. She too felt that deep devotion. She felt the tug and pull on her faith and the endless guilt her love for him brought her in the middle of the night. She’d struggled with the warring feelings—daily.
Petr had told her many times in their relationship that he was severing ties with her, only to come back within a week proclaiming his undying love.
How did this happen to me?
It was a question she asked herself often. She’d been raised as a good Catholic in Prague. She was born after the fall of communism, but she’d heard the stories from her parents, nuns, and now her Cardinal of how the devoted Catholics were forced by the regime to practice their faith underground.
Petr had gone to university and received his Master’s and doctorate in theology, studying in secret, unable to celebrate his indoctrination or graduation amongst the cheers and accolades of his peers and family. All ceremonies, according to him, were quiet, reverent rites of passage, humbling and inspiring events, and in some respects, he said that they probably had been more meaningful without the pomp and circumstance the Church and universities were known for.
She’d been raised to honor these great men in the church, standing in awe of their r
epresentation of Christ. The formal, crisp vestments would swish past her small body in the dark wooden pews of St. Vitus Cathedral, incense floating on the air behind them, giving her a glimpse into what she imagined heaven would be like.
She wondered what it would feel like to be the vessel that brought Christ to the people to be the conduit that made the wine and bread become the blood and flesh of Christ. She, as most young girls in Catholic school, had fancied that one day she’d become a nun, teaching small children to read and write.
Never in her wildest dreams did she ever imagine that someday she’d be in love with a Cardinal…and never did she think she’d be doing carnal acts with one.
Petr was old enough to be her father. He loved caring for her, watching out for her…after all, priests do formally take the role of Father. When she was given the opportunity to work in the Vatican City at the young age of twenty, she leaped at the opportunity.
Petr had been assigned as her mentor, the Vatican knowing that someone from her homeland who spoke her language would make the transition that much easier. Neither of them ever foresaw a relationship blooming. He would meet her for dinner or lunch a couple times a week and had given her his cell phone number so she would be able to ask for assistance or ask questions at any time of the day or night.
Theirs was a friendship that started easily. Petr was talkative and friendly, knowledgeable in many areas, so the conversations were fluid and easy. Eliska was quiet, but not shy—she just didn’t always have much to say and was uncomfortable starting conversations or transitioning to new ones. It was nice that Petr filled that void in her personality. However, it didn’t take long for him to see that she had a quick temper.
He loved calling her “little dragon” in Czech—malý drak. It was an apt description, much to her chagrin. Overall, people saw her as calm and under control, but when something ruffled her feathers, the explosion was quick and almost always unexpected.
Now she found herself answering to the large, stern Cardinal who was much older than her. Between her petite stature and her youthfulness, Petr didn’t hesitate to apply some very familiar Czechoslovakian discipline to her rump. Something that hadn’t been done since she was a very young girl, but he swore it was needed to bring out the sweetness he knew was there. He assured her—more than once—that he would be consistent and diligent in driving out her temper. And he meant it.
Eliska wove her way through the garden, taking the longer route back to the Palace. It was a nice day, so she wanted to enjoy the spring blossoms and flowers. It would only be a week or two before the heat would make them vanish, replacing them quickly with budding fruit.
She reminisced about how not long after they had started meeting illicitly, Petr had decided to spank her the first time for shouting at a Cardinal in his presence—one of many incidents that would occur over the next three years.
“You don’t get to tell me what to do in my job. I’m a good secretary, and the priests and Cardinals respect me.” Eliska had stood with her hands on her hips glaring at Petr, her breathing heavy with her anger.
He’d stepped forward, not raising his voice. If anything, he’d dropped it an octave. “I get to tell you how to behave because you agreed to let me be your Dominant.”
She had dropped her head, looking at the floor, only to have him tilt it back up, forcing her to make eye contact with him.
“And as your Dominant, little girl, I care about how you treat people. But I care more about your well-being, and being this upset is not good for you. You’re to never yell at someone like you just did with Cardinal Montesano. The shouting was heard in the other room, your anger turning your face red and making your pulse race, I have no doubt.” He had pulled her hands off her hips, dragging her reluctant form toward a chair in his suite of rooms at the Apostolic Palace. The white damask chair had no arms but ornate gold legs with clawed feet.
“Well, did you hear what he said to me?” She stomped her foot, screeching loudly.
Reaching up under her skirt, he yanked her panties down to knees. “We’re not going to discuss this until I’ve spanked some of the starch out of you.”
Grabbing the slip of cloth in her hands, she had attempted to pull the bikini up, only to find herself being propelled quickly forward over his lap. “What are you—”
Petr pushed her skirt up, the cool air brushing over her flesh and damp pussy, causing her hips to swivel a bit. Without answering her question or saying a word, he’d quickly spanked her backside with hard, crisp slaps marching up and down from the crest of her buttocks to the middle of her thighs.
No matter how hard she’d struggled, doing her best to throw herself off his lap or block his next strikes, he had easily thwarted her moves. And much to her chagrin, her angry, frustrated howls had turned to cries of despair and mercy.
He stayed his hand, resting his hot palm against her even hotter flesh, squeezing it gently, cooing indiscernible words. “Poor girl…my naughty little Elinka…such a bad little kitten.”
Her sniveling and dejected whimpering had subsided and through her tears, she couldn’t help but grin at his pet name for her. In the Czech Republic, parents gave nicknames to their children, and for little girls, they add the diminutive “-inka” to a portion of the girl’s name. Wanting a cute, special nickname that was only between them, Petr took the first part of her name, adding “inka” to it—Elinka. This practice is very common in their home country, and it delighted her to no end that he’d given her a nickname.
“Come. Sit up.” He’d kept her skirt at her waist and her poor panties had been kicked clear across the room, leaving her exposed bottom to brush against his silken red robe.
Eliska had swiped at her tears, sitting quietly waiting for direction.
“It seems my Elinka is calm and ready to discuss this as a grown woman, ano?”
“Ano, Sir.”
“So, as I was saying before, we’ve discussed your temper and outbursts, and you agreed that they’re a problem. So when I’m walking down the hall of the palace and hear my girl—my very naughty girl—shouting at a cardinal, it’s time for a discussion.” He patted her bottom.
She’d fought the urge to push his hand away knowing that wouldn’t go over well, so she’d shifted slightly on his thigh instead, hoping he’d pick up on the nonverbal cue, whispering quietly, “Ow.”
“Yes, your bottom is sore. I won’t apologize or feel bad about it either. Stand up.” He had helped her stand between his knees, his long robe draped in front of her. “Go get your panties.”
She turned to walk away, reaching up to pull the cotton skirt back down.
“Uh-uh, keep that skirt up. I didn’t give you permission to cover yourself.”
Her face flushed as she quickly retrieved her pink panties from under a table, clutching them tightly in her fist.
Thrusting his hand forward, he motioned with his fingers for her to place them on his palm.
“Oh God, do I have to?”
“Yes, Elinka.”
With her neck and face hot with her blush, she’d kept her eyes downcast as she placed the rumpled underwear in his hand, watching him untangle the mess, holding them open at the floor. “Step into them, girl.”
The humiliation of him pulling her panties up as if she was a small child had added to the embarrassment of standing as a full-grown woman with a red spanked bottom.
The soft cotton hugged her curves and he had lovingly patted the still sore flesh before whisking the skirt back into place, fixing his large hands on each hip, smiling up at her. “All right, you’re all set now. I want you to sit at that desk with your little ass burning and remember this discussion for the rest of the day. You’ll apologize to Cardinal Montesano for your impertinence. Don’t disobey me on this, kitten. You’ll be sorry.”
“Yes, Sir.”
Eliska returned to her office, looking at the time on her phone, knowing that Petr would be impatiently waiting for her compliance with his orders. Grabbing he
r purse from her desk, she walked quickly to the bathroom, locking the stall door and extracting her butt plug. It had been cleaned and put into a fresh baggie ready for her next punishment. The pink glass had a decorative flower on the end, and as silly as it seemed, she had a fondness for the toy—it was pretty.
Pulling the little shelf down from the wall, she placed her purse and her phone down onto it, the app opened ready for the second step of her discipline. Without much effort, she slipped the plug into her anus, gasping quietly as it became fully seated, the tight ring of muscle closing on the neck keeping it in place.
Sighing loudly, she reached for her phone, the floor becoming immediately visible on the small screen.
Now, comes the horrible part.
Turning away from the porcelain bowl, not wanting to accidentally drop the phone into the water, she pivoted her hips until the full breadth of her ass came into view on the camera application. She pulled her right cheek a bit, bending a bit more until the pink flower jutting from between her buttock could be seen. The sound was muted, for many reasons, but this was one of them—not wanting anyone in the bathroom to hear the click of the camera. She took a couple shots in the hope of avoiding another trip to the bathroom.
Oh God, once is enough!
She muttered aloud as she sent the photo to Petr’s phone. “Why, oh why, do I subject myself to this?” Experience had taught her to wait for his approval before leaving, then having to do the walk of shame again to take a “better picture.”
Cardinal Sinner (Divine Domination Book 2) Page 2