Paul Dano imagines

The blessing~ (eli sunday/smut)

Eli was always so gentle; even now, as he rested his hand on your shoulder while you sniffled and wiped under your eye, the care of his touch made you smile through your tears. "It pains me to see you suffering, Sister," he breathed. "The burden of sin is so heavy if you only tell me what you've done, you can be forgiven." "I want to," you promised, looking up at him; his green eyes wrinkled at the sides when he smiled at you encouraging, yet a little pressuring, too. He nodded slightly, like he was waiting for you to go on and get it over with. "I want to, Eli, but I'm so ashamed." He sat down next to you on the pew, wrapping his arm around you as he leaned in a bit closer to your face. "That shame in you, that shame you feel?" he began. "That's the Devil. If you keep quiet about what you've done then you will carry that sin forever, and it will weigh you down so your soul can't rise to Heaven. You must bring your sins to God, child." "I know," you mumbled, but he kept going "the Devil is in your mind," he informed you, his voice gaining that intensity you were familiar with from his sermons. As he said it, he reached up to place his hand on your head, and the pads of his fingers dug into your hair and forehead. "I know," you repeated with a whine. "I know! These thoughts... it's like they never stop..." "What thoughts?" he pressed. "I— I can't say," you choked, only meeting his gaze for a second before looking down again. He handed you a handkerchief from his pocket, and you mumbled a 'thank you' as you wiped your face with it. "I couldn't say it to you, Eli— I couldn't say something so hideous to you, you're so beautiful..." You were afraid it would sound stranger than you meant it when you said it out loud, that he wouldn't understand what you meant, but he smiled somewhat shyly as he looked down at your lap where you clutched the borrowed handkerchief. You lifted it to offer back to him, but he held his hand up in polite rejection, so you conceded and rested it on the flowery skirt covering your thighs again. "I think it's important that you tell me what sinful thoughts have been plaguing you," he insisted, speaking a little quieter yet more precisely. Just then, shame overtook you and pulled the truth from where it was about to spring from your mouth, back down into your chest; instead, you heard such an easier story in your own voice. "I... think of leaving the church," you offered, looking at him again as he gave you a piercing stare. He just barely raised an eyebrow and you looked away again to continue. "I think of going far away from Little Boston and doing all the things I was never supposed to do... I think of freedom, even though I know it's wrong." "I can tell when you lie to me, Sister," he whispered, and you shivered, your gaze jumping up to meet his; he looked right through you, his expression mostly blank but the smallest smile on his lips. "You don't need to do that— you don't need any more sins on your soul, with what you've been doing..." Feeling paralyzed, your heart started to race as it seemed the only part of your body that could move was your throat which bobbed while you nearly choked on nothing. "What do you do with your thoughts at night?" he asked, whispering to you now. "When it's dark and you're alone in your room, when your father and brothers have gone to bed— what are you doing under your covers... Sister?" It was the sort of question someone would only ask if they already knew the answer. The memory of your weakest moments, of succumbing to desires of the flesh made shame hit in your gut just as much as warmth beginning to gather between your clench thighs. You shut your eyes tight; even now this Devil couldn't leave you be, it didn't care that you were being admonished for your sin, it only cared that Eli was close. "I'm not stupid, I see the way you look at me," he informed you, oddly calm, even a little mocking, "during my sermons... your attention is far from the Lord when I speak. I know what lust looks like. Naughty, sinful little girl..." "I-I'm sorry," you whimpered, opening your eyes again to plead with him, "forgive me... cleanse me, please—" "I don't know that I can," he warned, "not when I'm what's causing you to stumble. What is it that distracts you, Sister?" He moved closer again and you looked away, humiliated by his line of questioning. "Is it my appearance, my body or my face? I always worried I wasn't especially masculine," he mused, "I suppose it's still enough to attract your natural, feminine interest— is it my voice, the way I preach?" You didn't answer, and he got more serious. "Tell me," he demanded. "A-all of it," you admitted. "It's everything— I just... I find myself dreaming about... things I shouldn't." "Things you're far too naive to understand, I'm sure," he dismissed. "Do you even know what it is that a man does to a woman? How their bodies are different?""O-of course I do," you scoffed nervously, "I learned when I was old enough, like anyone else..." "Did you learn by watching the animals on your papa's farm?" he asked mockingly, and the way your eyes went wide must've given it all away, because he laughed for a second. He got up from his seat next to you, standing in front of you and making you feel so small as he berated you. "So innocent, so sheltered, but you've still found a way to let your mind be poisoned— you are dripping in sin, Sister, the Devil is so deep inside you and you've done nothing to keep him out—" "No, no, I try so much to be good," you whined, looking up at him, "to be righteous and behaved... I want to be a good daughter and a good follower of the Lord— like you!" "Like me?" he smiled, and something about his smile made yours fall because you knew he was cross with you. "Like me, who has given everything for God— like me, who is blessed with gifts of healing and prophecy? You looked down again shamefully, bunching the skirts of your dress in your lap. "Like me, his most faithful and favored child?" he continued, voice rougher with rage. "And what are you but an insolent, immature little girl who can't find anything better to do than let her mind wander with lascivious daydreams during church?" "I'm so sorry," you sobbed, "I'm sorry, Eli— I never wanted this to happen... I just wanted to be good." "You still can be," he promised, "if you do exactly as I tell you." You sniffled, blinking up at him. "Can I really be saved, Eli? Can I be forgiven?" "It will be all right," he assured suddenly, dropping on one knee before you as he clutched your hands tightly. "My child, I can save you— the Lord abandons his flock to save that one lost lamb, always. I can absolve you." "Tell me how," you pleaded in a breathless whisper, but he said nothing as he guided you to stand up, and looked into your eyes as his hands gripped your shoulders. "Get out," he whispered, and you shivered as your eyes fell shut; you'd heard him do this most Sundays, you'd watched him speak to evil spirits, and it always made that warm, tingly feeling stir inside you. "Get out," he repeated, shaking you slightly. You whimpered quietly when he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you into a tight embrace, hands clutching at your back through your dress; your arms were pulled up to your chest, your hands still holding tightly onto his handkerchief. You'd dreamed that he might hold you like this someday, more than just the fleeting hugs he gave to you sometimes on your way out from church— and he gave those to anyone, after all. This was so much more than that, this was... all-encompassing. You could smell him, he smelled like cedar and communion wine and candle smoke. "I command this Devil," he hissed, "with the power of God, to leave this girl, to free this woman from the chains of sin— to be cast out and leave her body in peace—" "Please," you sobbed your own prayer, "please, Lord—" "Get out," he screamed just by your face, "get out, devil!" He held you tightly and you sobbed— joy, fear, overwhelmedness, all of it. Seeing Eli cast something out was always incredibly emotional, for anyone, but it was indescribable to experience. You could feel the heat of pentecostal fire on your head, in fact you could feel it everywhere, and you were limp and helpless in his arms. "It's not enough," he whispered, and your euphoria was quickly washed away with worry. "What?" you breathed "It's not enough to cast the demon out," he continued. "You have to be filled with the Spirit again." You thought you would do anything he said without question, and yet something felt so wrong about his hand moving up your leg, under the skirt of your dress. It felt good, it made you shiver and drop your mouth open in a sigh, but it felt wrong, too. "Eli, I don't understand," you whispered, fighting the urge to move your leg away from his touch. "Shh," he soothed, "I'm just gonna bless you, Sister." You squirmed when his fingers clumsily shoved inside your panties, and you grabbed his arm to try to encourage him to stop. "I don't think I'm supposed to—" He grabbed your face with his other hand, squishing your cheeks slightly, and making you look up at him. "You are supposed to," he insisted roughly, losing his patience, "because I told you to. You're just not supposed to tell anyone." You choked on a pathetic little yelp as he rubbed his fingers over your folds, finding them slick and swollen, and he smiled down at you with a proud chuckle. "Mother's gone since you were a girl, no sisters left behind to teach you— your father never taught you what this was for, did he?" Eli presumed, speaking so harshly that you couldn't help but wince. "Your brothers? They didn't show you?" One finger slid inside you, and you gasped— you'd never put anything inside yourself before, you were too scared... it felt strange. Your body seemed to act on its own now; your channel was gripping his finger tighter, you could feel it, but you couldn't stop it. "Your body was created to take a man's," he explained, breathing heavily, "to be filled by it. Your body is... a vessel, it could be said. Just as my body is a vessel for the Spirit, yours is a vessel for what God gives men— and that's your purpose." Another finger pushed in beside the first, and you crinkled your nose up and your brows together, reaching up to clutch at his shoulders. "Why does it hurt?" you whimpered. "Because you're being punished," he answered, an anger you couldn't understand tainting his voice. He started to move his fingers around inside you, curling them into a spot that made your knees buckle— thankfully he was already holding you up. His thumb moved over that thing you'd been touching at night, and it felt better when he did it than your attempts to pleasure yourself. "Tell me what you did to yourself," he whispered. "Confess." "I... I touched myself, there," you answered shakily, "I rubbed myself on my pillow— and I thought of you, I whispered your name to myself..." "What did you imagine on those nights in your little bed, Sister?" he demanded. "When you were getting your pillow dirty with your needy cunt, did you want me to hold you like this and show you God's purpose for your body— teach you what you were created for?" "Yes," you admitted, "yes— I wanted this." "Filthy," he scolded in a snarl. "I work so hard to bless His children here each Sunday— and you come here for a blessing and leave with thoughts of lust. What are we going to do with you, little lamb? What am I going to do with you?" "Forgive me," you begged, sort of an answer to his question even though it was rhetorical. "Cleanse me, absolve me, Eli..." "You're going to get your absolution, my lost little lamb," he promised through his teeth. "Every drop of it." Suddenly, he spun you around and grabbed your hips; you whimpered as he began to lift the bottom fo your dress up. "Bend over," he instructed, "hold onto the pew." You gripped the wooden back of the pew tightly, feeling a little strange with a draft hitting your thighs. You'd never been exposed like this and it felt horribly wrong— but you knew it couldn't be wrong, if it was what Eli wanted. "What are you going to do?" you asked weakly. "I'm going to fill you with the Spirit, like I promised," he explained, "and you're going to be whole again." The shudder that ran through you when he pulled your panties down was nothing compared to the next one, when you heard him opening his trousers. "Eli," you sighed, not sure if you were asking him to stop or just hoping for comfort. Instead, you felt something hard and hot press against you, and just as you imagined what it might be, it was inside you— he was inside you. You cried through your teeth at the feeling of being torn this way, a stinging sensation coming so strongly from between your legs that it moved up your back and curled your fingers and toes. "You stupid, foolish thing," he growled, pulling his hips back and filling you over and over again. "Thinking you could test me, tempt me, and not receive your punishment..." "Eli," you whimpered, "you're hurting me— please—" "Shh," he interrupted, making you gasp through a cry as he punched his hips up into yours again, a sharp feeling hitting right inside you when he did it. "Shh, I'll tell you what to say— you don't need to say anything else but what I tell you to." You whined but nodded obediently, clenching your teeth together tightly as each thrust of his cock into you made new stings of pain crawl through your skin. "Say 'Lord, forgive me,'" he instructed. "Lord, forgive me," you repeated. "Cleanse me of my sins," he continued. "Cleanse me... o-of my sins," you choked, struggling to form words as he continued to knock the air out of you. "Make me anew in your Spirit," he ordered you to speak, his own voice getting deeper as he finished off the sentence with a gasp. "Father," you gasped, stalling as you struggled to remember what Eli had told you to say even seconds ago, "make me anew in your Spirit, please..." "Just like that," he breathed, "just like that..." Something happened when he spoke those words, like another spell of his washing over you— the pain started to fade, the sting gave way to a stretch that was oddly comfortable. You felt your back arch, and your tightened jaw fell slack with a low moan. "Oh, see?" he whispered, leaning down until you felt his voice on the back of your neck. "It feels good, doesn't it? You spoke and He listened— His blessings always feel incredible." "Yes," you breathed, "yes, Eli— thank you, Father." You heard a sound from him, sort of like a laugh, but more like a proud groan; a bit of both, really. "I like hearing you pray while I'm inside you," he admitted, laying his forehead on the back of your shoulder and starting to move faster. "Keep going." "Heavenly Father," you sighed, looking down at where your knuckles were paling from gripping the pew's edge so tightly, "thank you, thank you— you've blessed me... through your servant, Eli, you've blessed me." A particularly rough thrust knocked into your deepest spot and you mewled, feeling your body rock back against him for more. "Oh!" you gasped. "It feels good, Father— it feels good, Eli, do you feel it?" He said nothing but you felt him nod as he kissed behind your ear and on the back of your neck. That answer made you smile, and inspired your next question. "Am I good, Eli?" you hoped. "Have I been good?" "You are so good," he promised, and you smiled through your tears with a choked sob of joy. "A good girl, is that what you want to be? A good little lamb?" "So much," you whined, "I just wanted to be your good lamb, Eli." "You are," he assured with a slow whisper. "You are, you're the best of my flock and you're doing so well, you're being so good." There was this pressure, a pressure that pushed deep down in your gut and kept your back arching further; it built up, and with it, your cries grew in volume and your eyes struggled to stay open. "You're good," he promised again, suddenly wrapping his arms around you, and you whined happily. "Eli," you whined, "I want more— you won't stop, right?" He shook his head. You were worried for a second that he would admonish you for your greed, but apparently you were both indulging yourselves now, and you loved the sound of his quiet moans with each breath he took— he sounded just as helpless to the pleasure as you felt. He couldn't stop himself either, now, and you felt your walls clench on him again simply from the idea that you were able to bring him such joy. Eli always said there was no greater feeling than serving others; this was definitely no exception. The feeling was getting bigger and stronger every second, even more so when he stood up straight again and put one of his knees beside yours on the pew, gripping your waist for leverage; you would've thought this would hurt, him taking you so forcefully, but it just felt amazing. Somewhere deep in your mind, you knew this was what you'd been told not to do until you had a husband, but how could anything that was wrong feel this wonderful? He moved faster, faster; you couldn't take anymore without that feeling spilling over out of you, and you didn't know what to do— if you were supposed to fight it, or force it, or tell Eli, or something else. You bit down on your lip, afraid you were too loud, but you couldn't keep it up for long as everything inside you felt like it was all about to tip over the edge. "Wh-what do I need to do now?" you asked under your breath. "You just need to let go," he answered. The all-consuming black light of pleasure called to you, pulled your mind into an abyss and made obscene moans fall from your lips. Your body moved of its own accord, flexing on the inside and erupting in gooseflesh on the outside. Though you heard your voice echoing through the empty church, screaming his name, you could hardly believe all that noise was coming from your mouth— normally so reserved and demure, so afraid to offend. You were shameless now, you couldn't help it; and the sounds of Eli's pride and pleasure encouraged you even more. "Just like that, little lamb," he praised, "it won't be much longer now, take my blessing inside of you..." Your body rocked and jolted limply each time his hips collided with yours, until you were dizzy from such rough and reckless thrusts; you were like a ragdoll, unable to even hold onto the pew anymore and simply slumping over it. Just as the sensation threatened to overwhelm you, your legs shaking and toes curling from how intense it all was, you heard Eli choke out a deep moan— and he slowed to a stop, relaxing his grip on your waist. For a few moments, the two of you simply caught your breath; when he stepped back and pulled out, you felt a gush of thick liquid run out of you and down your thighs, and you swallowed nervously just before your knees gave out and you collapsed into the pew. "Shh," he soothed as he sat down by you and lifted you up into his arms, holding you close. Your face was too numb for you to notice that you were crying until his thumb swiped over your cheekbone and smoothed the streaks of wetness. "And God shall wipe away every tear from their eyes," he whispered. "The Book of Revelations, chapter seven..." Looking up at him, you contemplated his dilated green eyes and his sandy-blonde hair sticking to his forehead from sweat. His whole face was a bit red, and you wondered if yours looked the same— you felt flushed, certainly, and a little dizzy still. "Have I sinned, Eli? By laying with you?" you whispered hesitantly, voice weak with fear. "I am only a servant of the Lord, and you are mine," he explained. "And what could be holier than that? Serving me so that I can serve my purpose and you can serve yours?" You nodded, and he pulled you closer to kiss the top of your head. "Is the devil out of me?" you asked quietly. You felt his smile against your scalp as he took a deep breath in beside your hair before he answered, "for now."
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Boom done 💪 this is from mypoisondvine on tumblr