Cardinal Sinner (Divine Domination Book 2)

by Megan Michaels

  : Yes, Sir.

  The glass shifted in her channel as she walked, but that wasn’t the most uncomfortable aspect. It was when she shifted or moved in her chair that made her gasp, the intruder stretching the stricture of muscle, giving her a twinge of discomfort in a quick stab and jolt. Her whole body stiffened in response, and she quickly looked around to see if anyone noticed her odd behavior. Sometimes she was so loud that her office mates would look over, questioning if she was okay. In response, she’d say she thought she saw a spider or had dropped a piece of paper.

  God, if they only knew.

  Wearing a plug to dinner, running errands, or, like this, at work for the whole afternoon, had a sobering effect on her, which was exactly why Petr had started doing it. The constant reminder had her pausing before she spoke. And although the plug was small and fit neatly between her cheeks, she swore it was much, much larger and everyone could see it poking at the edge of her skirt, forcing her to remain seated until her little sphincter would scream with pain, making her get up for water or go to make copies, her gait slow and her steps mincing.

  She looked at the clock on the wall, groaning internally. Four more hours.

  Chapter 3

  Leaning back in his chair, Petr looked at the picture for at least the twelfth time since she’d sent it to him, her cute, plump buttocks with the pink flower peeping between the divide. His cock stirred, the front of his robe fluttering with the movement. Still holding his phone, he let his hand press against the hardened penis, giving it a little relief.

  “What are you looking at? You’re so intense.”

  Jumping, Petr quickly turned the phone to off, not wanting to have the picture accidentally seen with a flick of the wrong button. The music played, signaling that it was powering down. “Oh, nothing. A note from home.”

  Cardinal Rossi stepped forward, his eyes widening. “Is everything okay?”

  “Oh, yeah.” Petr flicked his wrist, waving the question off. “It’s nothing; just family. What can I do for you, Cardinal Rossi?”

  “I hear that you, Jakub, and Eliska will be leaving for Prague within a couple weeks. I hope you don’t mind, but I have a few important matters that will be occurring in your absence and I’ve asked Eliska to handle the more important ones before she leaves. I know it’s a burden, and…well, she let me know without mincing any words that my needs were inconvenient.” He smirked at Petr.

  “Of course, good friend. She shouldn’t have reacted that way; it’s really unnecessary. As long as we have our flights and files upon departure, the days preceding our departure can be devoted to your needs. I’ll have a talk with her.” Petr shook his head. “You know her temper.”

  “Don’t we all?” The cardinal sat in the chair facing Petr’s desk. “She’s a fiery one that one.”

  “Yes. A veritable malý drak.”

  Cardinal Rossi laughed. “I love that you call her that. It fits her very well. I often find myself thinking she’s not such a little dragon after all. She’s risen in stature it seems.”

  “I know. More often than not, approaching her can feel like patting a snake with your bare feet.” He’d be having some words with his girl tonight by the sounds of it. For the Cardinal to seek him out, she must have really rebuked him.

  Petr noticed the tilt of the Cardinal’s head, his eyebrows knit in confusion. “What I mean by that is…it’s like walking into, what do they say, ‘into a lion’s den.’”

  “Ah, yes. A very good description for Eliska.” With a loud sigh, slapping his hands on his thighs, the man rose, straightening the red sash at his waist. “I’ll wait until you speak to our secretary before I approach her with more work. Should a half hour be long enough, Cardinal?”

  “Oh yes. I’ll go talk to the malý drak now.”

  He watched his colleague leave the room before turning on his phone again to stare at that gorgeous bottom, one he’d have the pleasure of fucking and spanking that night. He wished she’d mind better…and then, on days like today, he was thankful for her naughtiness, giving him an opportunity to exert his dominance.

  Slipping his phone back into his pocket, he walked toward the administrative pool. “Eliska, would you come here, please.”

  The other two women looked over their shoulders at Eliska, their eyes searching both Petr and Eliska’s faces for clues. With her cheeks quickly turning pink, she dropped her gaze and pivoted in her chair to stand, gasping loudly, pulling her plump lip between her white teeth and daring a brief glance at him.

  Petr did well hiding his mirth at her predicament. Obviously the plug had shifted, the unyielding glass irritating the sensitive nerve endings in her little pucker. He loved watching her struggle with the butt plug, and loved calling it a pacifier even more. The humiliation of the childish term and the placement of the binky in the welcoming “o” of her bottom had become an even more delightful punishment than he had ever anticipated.

  He guided her into his suite, closing the door behind her. “Sit in the chair, please.” He pointed toward the chair Cardinal Rossi had just vacated. He planned on keeping their discussion formal and austere, waiting until later for the actual punishment.

  “I put the plug in as you asked. Did I do something wrong with it? You said you approved.” Eliska gingerly sat on the cushioned chair, her eyes watching him take his seat.

  “Is that what we call it? A plug?”

  She cleared her throat and looked to the floor as she mumbled, “Pacifier, Sir.”

  “Speak up, girl.”

  Her gaze rose to meet his. “I have my…pacifier in place, Sir.”

  “Better. Yes, I did receive your pictures, and I do approve of the placement. You did nothing wrong in that regard.” He leaned back in his chair, weaving his hands together over his chest. “However, Cardinal Rossi came to see me just a moment ago.”

  Her eyes widened. She didn’t blink; she just stared at him while she gritted her teeth, the muscle twitching in her jaw.

  Anger.

  “That upsets you; is that what I’m sensing?”

  She opened her mouth to speak, closing it quickly to formulate her words. “I didn’t…what did he say?”

  “Rephrase that.” He narrowed his gaze at her, realizing that the plug wasn’t having the desired effect, and she’d require something harsher today.

  “What did he say to you, Sir?”

  “He asked permission for you to handle some of his more pressing matters before we leave and said that you let him know in no uncertain words that his requests were inconvenient and a burden. Is that so?”

  Her nostrils flared. “Well, it is a burden. I have other things to do, as you know. He’s not the only stinking Cardinal I work for around here, and we have things that are pressing too, like freaking leaving for Prague. Those arrangements aren’t going to happen by some fairy dust and magic. Oh, oh!” She had shifted in anger near the end of her diatribe, her plug apparently hurting with the movement. She crossed her arms over her chest, her nipples pebbled, visible under the lightweight cream sweater, the plump globes rising and falling quickly with her angry breaths.

  “Enough!” He rose, rounding the desk quickly, sitting on the corner with his right thigh resting on the top. “You will speak to me in a tone that I deserve. Understood?”

  “Y-yes, Sir.”

  “I’m aware that we need airline and hotel arrangements, but those can be done in the evening if necessary. It’s important to meet the needs of the senior Cardinals in this area as well.” He bent a little, leaning forward to invade her space. “You will do as requested. With no attitude. No ranting or temper tantrums. And you’ll be pleasant and kind.”

  “Y-yes, Sir. I’m sorry.”

  “It seems that your little pacifier isn’t working as well today.” He rose again, opening a drawer near his chair. He pulled out a small packet before walking toward her again.

  “Oh no!” She leaned back in her chair, shaking her head.

  “Wrong response
. Do I need to assist you with this?” He handed it to her.

  “But…I don’t want to. I’ll be good. Really, really good.” She stared down at the hot sauce with fear and trepidation like it may attack her.

  “Your behavior says otherwise. You’ll walk to my bathroom, and with a couple drops on your finger, you’ll put it on your little bottomhole. Setting a little fire there can only help, and later, I’ll set you ablaze another way. Come. Let’s go.” He waved his hand letting her walk in front of him toward his lavatory, which was big enough to accommodate the two of them.

  Petr opened a drawer near the sink, and pulling out a pair of nail scissors, he snipped the corner on the small package. “Bend over. Hands on the seat of the commode.”

  Her beautiful, pale blue eyes swam with tears, but without a word, she placed her hands on the cover of the toilet.

  He lifted her skirt, pulling her panties down to her knees. Reaching around her, he handed her the hot sauce packet. “I’ll hold your skirt. I want you to do this in obedience. Put only a small drop on your finger and coat the area with the hot sauce. You’ll be suffering for a bit, my girl.”

  When her finger reached back, he wiped the majority of it off, only wanting a miniscule drop to the area. His goal wasn’t to have her sobbing at her desk or to cause her a severe irritation. He wanted her to realize he meant business. Her damned temper needed to be dealt with.

  Guiding her finger to the sensitive area, he watched her rub it under the plug onto the puckered whorl. Righting her clothes, he tossed the hot sauce into the trash. “Wash your hands well, Elinka, then get back to work, but I don’t want you breaking down in tears. You asked for this, so you’ll handle the pain and remorse quietly and with dignity.”

  “Yes, Sir.” The tears quietly tracked down her cheeks in her reflection in the mirror while she soaped her hands thoroughly. She had suffered this same punishment in the past, so she knew how he expected her to conduct herself and knew the agony that awaited her this afternoon.

  Opening a folder at his desk, he started his busy afternoon, only glancing up to wag a finger in warning toward her as she briskly left the room.

  Petr chuckled to himself after she left. Hopefully he’d been successful in dampening the fire of his dragon today, and the fire would find itself quenched between her little bottom. He wouldn’t have her any other way. Her love and antics kept his soul happy.

  Chapter 4

  Cardinal Stepan Danek sat in his small, dark office in the Diocese building near St. Vitus Cathedral, his church. News had just filtered to him by word of mouth and an official email from the Vatican that Cardinal Petr Novak would be coming for a visit.

  Although they were both familiar with each other, they didn’t get along well. Stepan was more liberal in his doctrine and thinking than Petr—and, well, more forward than the Roman Catholic Church as well. Wanting to be Christ-like, Cardinal Stepan Danek accepted homosexuals openly into his church and spoke openly about the influx of homosexuality in the priesthood—things that the Church didn’t wish to discuss openly. These were most definitely not topics the church wanted considered in an open forum on television or in the newspapers.

  Stepan bristled under the restrictions put on him, and hated that the government of the Czech Republic fawned over Cardinal Petr Novak, giving him awards and accolades that, in his opinion, should have been directed his way. After all, he’d stayed in their country and worked with the natives. He hadn’t lived in the Apostolic Palace eating fancy meals and walking amongst the most beautiful gardens and structures in the world. He’d slaved in his own country, one that suffered from economic demise and yet, to please the church, his government had agreed to give the monies collected to the Vatican.

  In the years after the fall of communism, the newly formed government kept the money collected, using them for their small communities and the people in need. But with the continued pressure from above, and the increased economic independence of the Czech Republic, they relented and agreed to the Formal See with the Vatican, giving them the money Rome felt was their due.

  After years of subjugation and hiding their faith underground, the Czechs were pleased with freedom and had little care or concern for other issues in the early 1990s. But nearly thirty years later, the only people who clearly remembered the communist rule were now old with slowly graying or white hair.

  The youth and middle aged of the Czech Republic now found themselves concerned with the needs of their communities and society as a whole, with public acceptance of all people regardless of sexual orientation, religion, or race—the Catholic Church had fallen behind in popularity. The strict Roman Catholic views on abortion, birth control, celibacy, and homosexuality had hindered not only the voluntary admission of priests and nuns, but had also caused their parishioners to dwindle. All of this affected the money brought into each church, and the pressure from the Vatican to send more and more did not sit well with Stepan. Hence the reason for his call to the Vatican today. Finally, on the third ring, a female voice said, “Vatican City, Cardinals’ offices. May I help you?”

  Stepan detected a fading Czech accent and assumed this was the Petrova girl, Eliska. “Yes, I need to speak to Cardinal Rossi, please. This is Cardinal Stepan Danek.”

  “Yes, of course, Cardinal Danek.” She cleared her throat uncomfortably. “This is Eliska, Sir…Eliska Petrova. How are you, Your Eminence?”

  He remembered her well; she’d gone to St. Vitus Catholic School her whole childhood. The Petrov family was respected in their community. Her father, Viktor Petrov, had worked at the auto factory for nearly twenty-five years. His children were all polite, kind, and well-behaved students of St. Vitus. American culture hadn’t crept into their culture yet, and immediate, stern correction was applied to an errant behind when necessary. It was very uncommon to hear of any family that didn’t use spanking as the main form of discipline.

  “Eliska, sweetheart, I thought that was your voice but didn’t want to assume. How has the Vatican been treating you? Are you happy in Rome?”

  “Yes, Your Eminence, the Vatican has been wonderful. I’ve learned so much since I’ve been here. And I love Rome. It’s so…exciting and busy. There’s always something to do and places to go. And warm!” Her friendly giggle floated through the phone.

  “Yes, the weather is much nicer than in Prague, that’s for sure. I’m glad you’re having a splendid time there, but if anyone bothers you there, you be sure to call Cardinal Danek and I’ll take care of them for you.” He dropped his voice an octave, using his principal voice knowing that she’d appreciate it.

  And as he’d anticipated, she laughed before saying, “Thank you, Cardinal. Let me get Cardinal Rossi for you. Hold, please.”

  The phone became silent, quickly followed by Gregorian chants wafting through the system to keep him calm and religiously somber.

  “Stepan! How are you?”

  Cardinal Rossi’s Italian accent boomed through the phone. The man was larger than life. Not just in his size, but his personality as well. Gregarious, friendly, and full of life—those were the words that came to mind when Stepan thought of the most revered and senior Cardinal.

  “Cardinal Rossi, you’re a tough man to get a hold of. I’m doing well, and you?”

  “Good, I’m good. And what do you mean I’m hard to get a hold of? I’m here every day. Have your calls not been getting through?”

  He hesitated in answering. Although he was joking, there was a side of Stepan that felt getting an answer from the Cardinal was like pinning Jell-o to the wall. “No, not at all. I’m just joking. But, on a serious note, I hear that Cardinal Novak, his assistant, Jakub, and Eliska are all coming to Prague in the next two weeks. Is that so?”

  The sound of the keys clacking on a computer was in the background; Rossi was obviously finishing an email or document before continuing his conversation. The man had a dozen irons in the fire at all times. “Yes, we’re sending him out to speak to the President and Prime Min
ister to discuss the church monies, and, I suppose, whatever other topics they want to discuss.”

  “Was anyone going to contact me and ask that I attend these meetings, or at least inquire what my opinion is on these matters?” He felt slighted, and justifiably so in his opinion. The Church had purposely ignored him and neglected to include him. It was embarrassing.

  The Cardinal sighed loudly on the other end of the phone. “Look, Stepan, we know your stance on some of these issues and we don’t…how can I say this? We don’t want your comments to muddy the waters.”

  Stepan flipped a pencil over and over, grinding his teeth and doing anything to avoid blowing up. “I guess I didn’t realize that talking about human issues—real human issues—was something of concern, something that clouded what the Church thinks are more important topics of concern. Tell me, Cardinal Rossi, what are we to do with all the young people who can’t relate to the church anymore? Which, by the way, is increasing much faster than studies have predicted. How are we to draw in the next generation? How do we do that when we take away the money that would help their government meet their needs and tell their friends and families that they can’t pray or take Holy Communion because sexually they aren’t acceptable to the Roman Catholic Church?”

  “If I may be so bold, Cardinal Danek, this is exactly why we didn’t tell you about Cardinal Novak’s scheduled visit. We can’t have conversations like this with the Prime Minister and President at the table. These deliberations are much better suited to a Vatican conference or phone conference. Regardless of what you think, it is important that the money comes to the church so we can meet the needs of our congregations world-wide and pay our priests and nuns who work so hard. And, if I may add, the Cardinals as well. You like your monthly check too, yes?”

  “Of course; I need to eat like the rest of you. I just don’t get the delicacies afforded the Vatican City or the palatial offices and suites you all have. I sit in a cold, drafty castle with very few amenities. You have your meeting. I’ll stay away, I promise. But remember, Cardinal, I’m the one that deals with and sees the President daily over here, not Petr. I have more influence than you may realize.”