CONTENT WARNING:
- RELIGION
- PRIESTS
- DEGRADATION
- CONFESSIONALS
- CNC
- SLIGHT PET PLAY
- ROUGH SEX
- SLIGHT HOMOPHOBIC REMARKS (PART OF DEGRADATION, CONSENTUAL)
Please do not read this if any of those things make you uncomfortable or could trigger you!
Note: None of my characters in my stories are under the age of 18 or over the age of 25 for my own comfort :)
Enjoy
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Sinful desires. Disgusting thoughts. Poison. How could he ever let himself think these things and not feel like a disgusting whore? The boy sits inside of the confessional, darkness consuming him. The only light that shined inside came from the plethora of holes in the chainmail of the priests' side of the booth. The sinner tucks himself away into the corner of the confessional that was farthest away from the priest, who watched him intensely. The priest was dressed formally, a white cuff lined the inside of his black buttoned up shirt, a portion peeked out to inform townspeople of his rank. His black hair was loosely fluffy, his favorite cross necklace hung from his hands, which were folded in his lap.
"You came here to confess your sins, so stop cowering in the corner and do so, boy," the young priest said, his voice dripped with assertiveness.
The sinner let a tear roll down his cheek as the priest spoke, the tone of the other boy's voice made his jeans tighten. He hated it. Disgusting. Disgraceful. Pathetic.
"Father, I've been wanting other men to do sinful things to my body," he let out a pathetic, choked sob as he confessed his first sin.
The priest leaned back into his seat, his thighs slid against the purple velvet as he made himself comfortable, "tell me the sinful actions you crave," he demanded.
The sinner's eyes went wide and he whined, shaking his head, despite the fact that the priest couldn't see him do so. The priest slammed the side of his fist against the wall, making the boy on the other side scream in fear.
"Don't make me ask you again," he threatened.
The boy let out an unintentional moan, followed by a regretful cry. He clutched his knees to his chest. The priest smirked and let out a deep, taunting chuckle.
"What a dirty whore... You want someone to boss you around? To order you around and make you feel inferior?" He questioned, holding back a groan. He had no shame in his enjoyment of the moment, but he'd never let the disgraceful sinner know that.
"Y-Yes, Father! Yes, I want to be handled like a doll. I want a man to use me to please his cock, to give me the pain my body so desperately craves!"
The priest released his groan of pleasure, his cock hardening as he heard the inferior boy speak so provocatively.
"Your mouth is as filthy as your thoughts, how dare you use such language on holy land? You'll be damned to Hell the moment you die, whore," the priest snarled angrily at the boy, but as he spoke he generously palmed himself through his black dress pants.
His wooden bead cross necklace stayed gripped in his hand as he rubbed his cock through his pants, the individual beads made a pleasurable texture that made the boy moan softly, his neck bending backwards and his cranium resting against the back wall of the confessional.
