Bad Habits: A Dark Anthology

by Yolanda Olson

  Epilogue

  Sister Emily

  My heart feels empty. I’ve been sent away, ordered to leave until I find the light I’ve so grievously wandered away from.

  After the incident that led me to Mother Bitch’s office, I was hopeful of the outcome until I saw Faith walking out on shaky legs with a hint of guilt in her eyes. Nothing could’ve prepared me for the tirade and resulting punishment that lay in wait for me inside that office. Faith caused me more trouble than I could’ve ever predicted.

  Mother Bitch told me how Sister Faith had broken down, confessed to our sins, and accepted as punishment the bite of the cane that had whipped me on so many previous occasions. The worst part of that entire meeting wasn’t deciding how to respond to the truth in the accusations laid against me, or even the hurt I felt at Faith’s betrayal, it was the catastrophic result of my own actions.

  It was devastating to hear I’d been dismissed from the sisterhood. Faith had lied and omitted certain truths, and in a desperate attempt to sway Mother Bitch’s decision, I found myself blurting them all out, but she wouldn’t hear a word against Faith.

  When I do finally ‘find my way back to the light’, as Mother Bitch so eloquently put it, I won’t be returning to Our Lady of Heavenly Hope, it will be to somewhere the past can’t haunt me. But for now, my own indolence and lack of diligence has cost me the only life I’ve ever wanted.

  About Ally

  Ally Vance is an International Bestselling Author who writes in the Dark Romance & Horror genres. Ally also co-writes with her close friend Michelle under the pen name Ally Michelle. Allyis a British author who lives in Kent, in the United Kingdom with her husband and stepson.

  Also by Ally Vance

  Flower in the Dark

  Evelina: Blaire’s World

  Fractured Darkness

  Sufferance

  Murphy Wallace

  Patience

  The ability to wait for something without frustration is a useful skill and a good aspect of one's personality.

  Blurb

  Patience isn’t a virtue that Suri was born with.

  Placed into witness protection, she ends up stuck at a convent for an undetermined amount of time. Living the life of a nun is a stark contrast to her former life as a submissive. Being stuck in a place where she is completely out of her element, is the ultimate test of her patience.

  Until she meets Father Stone.

  He is anything but a normal priest. Instead, he is as precisely as his name describes; Stone. Hard. Chiseled. He holds a secret as dark as her own. When Father Stone figures out Suri’s secret, he knows exactly what she needs to help the time pass while she’s looking for a way out.

  Prologue

  Father Stone

  It's been a little over a week since the intriguing girl started volunteering in my front office. I don't know why Mother Superior sent her here, but I am not amused. Surely this is a punishment from God for something I did in my past.

  What if it's not, though. What if it's a test? You know damn well you aren't happy. That this isn't the life you were meant to live.

  Fuck.

  I rearrange my hardening dick for the umpteenth time since she walked into this church. The sensual curve of her slender neck has me yearning to caress it. Thin wisps of her dark hair escape from her headpiece, and my fingers crave the feel of her silky strands tickling my skin. Luckily, my desk covers the proof of my transgression.

  Squeezing my eyes shut, I allow my fist to tighten around my shaft, but I don't let it rub up and down like my cock is begging me to do.

  Come on, do it. Quit denying yourself what you know you want. What you know you need.

  "Sister Suri!"

  My eyes fly open at the sound of Ms. Agnes' voice floating down the hallway from the file cabinet next to Sister Suri's desk. What the fuck? It's as if she's answering my inner demon. My grip loosens, but I don't release the hold on my dick.

  "Holy shit, Agnes! You can't just creep up on someone like that!"

  Oh, that mouth of hers. My eyes roll back into my head with lust.

  You want to punish it, don't you?

  She might be the only person who doesn't belong here more than me.

  "Father Stone isn't going to like hearing about this."

  I don't know about that; it might be just what Father Stone needs right now.

  The Devil on my left shoulder is more brazen than usual today. Yo, Angel dude, I could use your powers for good right about now.

  Fuck it, Ms. Agnes is right, Father Stone isn't going to be happy to hear about this, but Ryan Stone is pretty fucking excited about it.

  Suri

  This assignment is so God damn annoying. Shit, can I mutter that phrase inside of a church? It's not like I said it out loud or anything.

  But God is always watching, Sister Suri.

  Mother Superior's voice echoes in my head.

  "Jesus…" I mutter under my breath so no one else can hear.

  Suddenly, a gasp sounds from behind me, making me jump in my seat.

  "Sister Suri!"

  Twisting my body, I come face to face with the older lady that also volunteers here. Her hand flies to her chest in shock, and her face appears as though she is frozen in horror.

  "Holy shit, Agnes! You can't just creep up on someone like that!"

  "Bite your tongue! What kind of Nun are you? Father Stone isn't going to like hearing about this."

  Fuck.

  "Ms. Agnes, please. It just slipped out. I'm sorry. I promise I will do extra penance for my sin when I get back to the monastery this evening. But, please don't tell Father."

  She cast a disgusted look my way and walked to her desk on the other side of the office.

  Father Stone scares me, and it's not just because he is the head Priest. He scares me because he reminds me of my past. Father Stone reminds me of the reason I am here, to begin with. He isn't the soft and gentle kind of priest that I remember leading our parish when I was growing up. Instead, he is as precisely as his name describes; Stone. Hard. Chiseled. I have no idea how someone with a body like a god and eyes as dark and dangerous as his ended up in the Priesthood. It doesn't make any sense.

  But you don't belong here either. You might not be the only one with a secret.

  I joined Our Lady of Heavenly Hope to get away from my abusive ex. Testifying in court was one of the hardest things that I've ever had to do in my entire life. I don't even believe in God, but this is the only place that the cops could put me at the time. They promised that they would move me somewhere else as soon as they could, but the small amount of patience that I have left is dwindling. I loathe the monastery, and I dream about a time when I am not forced to be somewhere that I don't want to be, doing things that I don't want to do. I've been living a life that was not my own for too long. Every day I dream about running far away from here.

  Unfortunately, that will never happen.

  I won't run because Tim would find me, there's no doubt about that. I'm shocked he hasn't yet. The terror I had to relive while I in the courtroom for days on end was all for nothing. Tim ended up getting off on a fucking technicality because the idiot judge failed to tell the jury about a lesser charge that they could rule on. Therefore, the court had no choice but to overturn the conviction. The criminal justice system in this country is unreal. I can't fathom how some of these criminals get away with the terrible pain and horror that they inflict on other people.

  So, that led me here. Other than Detective Robbins and Mother Superior, no one knows why I'm here. Mother didn't want to let me in, but Robbins has been a faithful member of Our Lady since he was a little boy, and he promised her it would only be for a brief period. She finally agreed and told him that I would be safe. That was six months ago, and I don't know who is more anxious about my departure, me or her. She never told him that she would act like a complete and utter cunt bag. I'm pretty sure that has to be in one of the Ten Commandments somewhere. She's had it out for me
since the moment I set foot in the door.

  I grew up Catholic, but I haven't been a religious person for a very long time. As if that wasn't enough, I am putting everyone in danger by being here. She doesn't understand how much that affects me. It's bad enough knowing that I'm not safe no matter where I go, but the fact that others can and will be affected should he find me, that's not something that I want on my conscience.

  Suri

  It's been three days since Agnes told me she was going to Father Stone about my language. I don't think she's said anything, though, because I haven't gotten called into his office yet. I don't know what has been happening in the past few days. Maybe it was the fear of getting into trouble that's been messing with me, but I've been hornier than I can ever remember being. At least since before things went south with Tim.

  I can't stop thinking about Father Stone. As soon as the idea of getting into trouble crossed my mind, I started having flashes of him and me together. Me, bent over the altar, him behind me on his knees, his tongue inside of me, his hands are kneading my thighs and ass.

  I am broken from my cloud of lusty thoughts when the tiny bell on the door chimes, letting me know someone's entered the office. When I look up, I lock eyes with a woman who looks strikingly familiar, but I can't place from exactly where. She's gorgeous, dressed in designer clothing with full hair and makeup. She could have been me if it were four years ago. She definitely looks out of place here, though, that's for sure.

  "Hello, how may I help you?" I ask her.

  She stands there staring, taking in my form as if she's puzzled by my being here.

  "Father Stone. Where can I find him?" she asks, looking down her nose at me.

  "He's out to lunch, is there something I can help you with?"

  "When is he due back?" she sneers at me with visible annoyance.

  She could have been me if she weren't such a cunt.

  "Hard to say," I respond, flashing her a bitchy grin. "Can I tell Father Stone that you stopped by?"

  She didn't respond. She just turned and walked out of the church.

  "Sister Suri," I hear Agnes ask.

  I look up and offer her a smile.

  "Can you please take this box over to the Rectory? I would, but you know I've got a bad hip."

  "Sure, Ms. Agnes. I'd be happy to," I flash her my best shit-eating grin.

  Bad hip? What a liar. Good Catholics aren't supposed to lie, Ms. Agnes. She's been making me do everything for her ever since she heard me taking the lord's name in vain the other day. Maybe she didn't tell Father Stone, and she is giving me my penance this way? Who knows, but I don't care—anything to get out from behind this damn desk.

  "Thank you, dear. You don't have to knock, just go right in and leave it on the table in the entryway.

  "Great, thank you," I offer her another slight smile and grab the package from her desk.

  When I reach the front door of the Rectory, I contemplate knocking. It doesn't feel right, just barging into someone's home like this, permission or not. But one of the Father's might be in meditation. I don't want to disturb them, so I open the door cautiously and walk inside.

  Soundlessly, I walk across the parquet floors and place the box on the table next to the stairs. When I reach the staircase, I can hear a rhythmic noise coming from the second floor, followed by a slight moan.

  My eyes shoot open with shock.

  No. It can't be, but it certainly sounds an awful lot like a guy jerking off up there. That's ludicrous, though. Priests live here.

  Father Stone lives here.

  My thoughts intrigue me, and as hard as I try to keep them from getting me into trouble, I fail. Before I know it, I am climbing the steps slowly, careful not to make a sound. I hear another, slightly deeper moan as I begin to ascend the staircase. I walk to the second floor and twist my body around the corner toward the source of the captivating sound.

  Gazing into the only room on this end of the hallway, I see him.

  Father Stone.

  He is sitting on the edge of his bed with his back to the door. He is shirtless, and I get to see part of his magnificent body for the first time. Sexy wouldn't be the word that I would use; it's not strong enough. It doesn't fully encapsulate exactly how exquisite he is.

  I can't see his dick from here, not even in the reflection of the mirror he's sitting in front of him. But there's no question about what he's doing. I can, however, see his muscular back and chest, and that's good enough.

  The longer I stand here, the more the moisture builds between my legs. I need to get out of here, either before I get caught or before I get undressed and join him! No matter how hard I try, I can't make my body move. I imagine him seeing me in the mirror and getting angry at me for my blatant voyeurism.

  He commands me to strip out of my clothing and crawl to him on all fours. I stop when I get to his feet and assume the perfect submissive position. He tells me that won't stop the punishment that he has in store, but he'll consider letting me come at the end of it now.

  STOP it, Suri.

  I clear my head. Fuck. I need to get out of here. Just as I begin to turn back and leave, I notice something I didn't see before. As I look closer, I can see lines running across his back, all in different directions.

  They look like whip marks.

  Holy hell, what happened to you, Father?

  FATHER STONE

  My aching need for a session with the Monsignor roars like an inferno inside of me. I refuse to go to him, though. I can feel myself cracking, but I refuse to break. I've been doing so well controlling myself for a long time; until she came along.

  I can't think about her. Especially not now.

  Don't kid yourself; she's the reason you're up here palming your dick right now. If this isn't you breaking, I don't know what is.

  I sincerely hate you sometimes.

  I hold my breath as my balls clench, preparing to expel the evidence of my sin all over the hand towel that I'm using. Just as I am about to come, I picture her.

  Sister Suri.

  I picture her tied to the cross. Her habit is lying on the ground beneath her. She's bared to me and ready for punishment, prepared for me to paint her porcelain body a rosy pink with my flogger, my cane, my hands.

  The second I come, a sharp hitching of breath sounds from the hallway, and I lift my head quickly, locking eyes with her reflection in the mirror in front of me. My eyes widen upon seeing her, watching me from the top of the stairs.

  Sister Suri.

  I stand and tuck myself back into my pants as quickly as possible, zipping carefully, and I take off, down the stairs, after her. Stopping just outside of the Rectory, I remember that I'm not wearing a shirt. My eyes are unable to look away from her retreating form as she runs, quickly, toward the church. She doesn't attempt a look in my direction until she reaches the door.

  Once she gets there, she turns her head and looks back at me before pulling the door open. Her eyes plead for forgiveness. She's trying to tell me that she didn't see anything; that she didn't get a glimpse of the devil inside me. She's begging me to believe that she will forget all about it.

  I can't. Not yet, anyway. I have to see Monsignor now. It's no longer a question. He will help me to forgive myself.

  And what about Suri?

  My eyes narrow as a sly smile spreads across my face. I will get Sister Suri on my cross before she crawls further beneath my skin.

  Don't worry, child. God forgives you. But Daddy Stone doesn't. Yet.

  Suri

  I barely made it through the rest of the day before the van came to pick me up and bring me back here, to the monastery. Thank Go-- uh, thank goodness I didn't see Father Stone again. I think I might need to pretend I'm sick tomorrow. There is no way I can go back there and face him knowing he knows that I saw what he was doing.

  Does he know that I wished he was fucking me instead of jacking-off?

  It's so wrong but, fuck, it made me so hot. I haven't been in the m
ood for anything in such a long time. I can't help the way I feel right now, but I don't care at the same time. It's not as if I am a real nun. I need to come, though; I feel like I am going to explode.

  "Sister Suri? Are you coming to dinner?" Sister Dawn asks as I walk down the hall toward my room.

  "Huh? Oh, um, no. I'm not feeling well."

  "Is there anything I can do--" I hear her say as I turn and walk away from her.

  The last thing I want to do is sit at a silent table full of nuns slurping their soup and praying for world peace. I need inner peace right now.

  When I get to my room, I undress out of my habit. I lay back over the side of my bed and place the heels of my feet on the bed frame. I let my knees fall to the side; my legs are spread wide, opening me up. Cold air swirls around my room, and it tickles my clit, sending a jolt of pleasure to my core.

  I inhale my shock and bring my fingers to my lips. I slide my first three fingers into my mouth and get them nice and slick before mixing my saliva with the cum oozing from my slit. Gliding my fingers through the stickiness, I coat my skin in moisture and begin to circle my clit. Immediately, a tingling sensation overtakes me. I cry out, but I'm able to quiet my reaction to a whimper quickly.

  I run my hands over my breasts, pinching my nipples. Each pinch sends another shock straight to my clit, pushing me closer to an edge that I haven't been on in far too long. My hand moves from my breasts to my pussy. My fingertips run through the moisture dripping from my slit. I slide them up and down until they are slick enough to enter, and I push them inside of me. Moving them in and out, I close my eyes and imagine that they're Father Stone's fingers.