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There were things even the most vile demon in all of Hell would find blasphemous. Things that at one point in time, if anyone told Dean that he would one day be doing just that, he would have ripped the flesh from their bones. But that was then, this was now, and that was before he met him. Now, Dean couldn’t help the smile that threatened to creep onto his face as he walked towards him down the church’s dark aisle. It was the first time they had ever met at night, and Dean could tell it would be one to remember.
Candles cast an orange glow as Dean made his way down to the front of the sanctuary. Dean could feel the fabric of the habit brush against his bare skin underneath, the black lace panties rubbing against the curves of his ass with each step he took. His eyes blacked over, demonically lustful in their gaze.
He stopped a few feet away from him, before looking up, looking him in the eyes. “Hello, Father. Forgive me, for I have sinned.”
The look Father Novak gave Dean was surely his ticket to Hell. No man of the cloth should look at anyone else like that, especially a demon. But there he was, shrouded in the glow of the candles, and the inevitable darkness that surrounded him; staring at Dean with devious intentions.
“I have no doubts that the severity of your sins will surely be your downfall and you will be cast into Hell for them.” The priest’s words were sharp, like daggers right through Dean that felt exhilarating.
“Oh, padre, I’m already there.”
“Kneel.”
The one word sent Dean to his knees looking up at Father Novak. This was his favorite place to be these days, staring up at the priest. He had been to visit him several times in the past now, going on two months at this point. Each time he went, he found himself wanting more of the priest. More of the sin that was housed in this holy sanctuary. It no longer was a game to Dean, the Father no longer a plaything. Dean was his, and he needed him.
Dean knew the words, knew how this would begin; the same as it always did. “Bless me, Father, for I have sinned. It’s been one week since my last confession. I’ve murdered men, damned them to hell, tortured souls-”
“You may skip past those sins,” interrupted Father Novak. He lifted Dean’s chin up. Blue eyes stared into green ones. “Tell me about your sins. Have you been behaving yourself?”
Shame washed over Dean, and the thrill of it ran through his veins as his eyes blacked over. “No Father. I touched myself again, thinking of you. I sat on the King of Hell’s throne as I did so.”
Father Novak tsked at Dean, shaking his head. “What did I tell you? You belong to me, and so does your pleasure. I can rid you of these sins, demon. Would you like to do that?”
“Yes, Father.”
“Good. I see you wore the habit I purchased for you. Thank you. Stand, I believe I know exactly what could absolve you of your weekly sins.”
Dean obeyed, rising to his feet. Father Novak led him up the small steps to the altar that had been cleared prior to Dean’s arrival. The priest led him around it, facing out towards the rows of wooden pews. Father Novak stood behind Dean, who trembled with anticipation, pressing into his ass. Dean could feel the priest’s cock on him. He pushed back into it but the priest only pushed right back.
“I hope I can safely assume you have been wearing the plug I also purchased for you?” Asked Father Novak.
“Yes, Father.”
“Good,” replied Father Novak before he placed a large palm on Dean’s back, guiding him to bend over the altar.
Dean felt Father Novak pull up his habit, exposing his lace covered ass to the cool air. His breath hitched as the priest traced a finger down the fabric, stopping at the plug before jogging it slightly. Dean gasped at the feeling, the fullness inside of him being pushed and tugged as Father Novak hooked his fingers under the fabric, ripping them off before removing the plug swiftly.
“You’ve been a good boy, keeping this in,” Father Novak said, voice low, almost a growl.
Dean moaned in reply, thighs already shaking. He felt empty and vulnerable, but it lasted only moments before he felt the priest’s finger slide into him. Slick and wet. Dean was so lost in his own head that in the moment that he didn’t even hear the priest open the bottle of lube. All he felt was his fingers pumping inside of him, stretching him open.
Just as Dean’s lips parted, a moan escaping the empty feeling returned.
Father Novak leaned over Dean, whispering in his ear. “I fear prayer is the only thing that can save you now, Dean. When I tell you to, start reciting Hail Holy Queen.”
“Yes, Father,” replied Dean in a deep whisper.
Father Novak reached his hand under Dean’s habit, grasping his cock, giving it a few deliberate strokes. Dean tried to thrust into the priest’s hand, but it was gone before he had a chance. When Father Novak touched him again, moments later, he wrapped rosaries around Dean. The feeling of the beans against his cock, already dripping with pre-cum, was enough to make Dean want to beg for it. But he knew better than that.
He felt the priest line his cock up with his hole, only giving Dean enough time to steady his feet on the ground before pushing in, bottoming out. Dean let out a groan, his eyelids fluttering closed as he basked in the feeling of fullness. He loved the feeling, loved the stretch, loved the sin of it all.
“Begin.”
One word. That was all Dean needed to begin saying the prayer. It was all the warning he got before Father Novak slowly dragged his cock out, almost completely, before driving it back in hard.
“Hail, Holy Queen, Mother of Mercy!”
Father Novak had one hand on Dean’s hip, the other on his back, holding him down onto the altar. Dean’s cock pulsates against the rosaries, the friction against the cold marble moved them with each thrust.
“Our life, our sweetness, and our hope!”
The sound of the prayer echoed throughout the nave of the church. Dean’s hands clenched into fist, his eyes rolled back with each thrust from the priest. Father Novak didn’t hold back, pounding into it with force.
“To you we do cry! Poor banished children of Eve!”
The altar below Dean shook each time Father Novak drove his cock into him. Hitting that sinful spot each and every time. Dean was on the verge of letting go, yelling out.
“To you, we send up our sighs!”
Dean had been a good boy for Father Novak in one regard; he made sure he knew his prayers. After all, it was the best solution for his demonic ways to be cured. Dean knew it wouldn’t cure him, nothing would. He didn’t want to be cured. He only wanted to be Father Novak’s.
“Mourning and weeping in this valley of tears!”
Father Novak picked up speed, making Dean lose his senses. Each thrust hitting just right. Just enough to bring Dean to the edge, holding him there in place. The rosaries felt tight around his cock, making him want to reach down to touch himself. But he knew better. He would come untouched, befouling the altar.
“Turn then, FUCK! Most gracious advocate!”
Harder and harder, the priest slammed into Dean. His cock filling him up, the hand on his hip grabbed hold of him, tightened.
“Your eyes of mercy towards us, and after this exile!”
The closer Dean got to the end of the prayer, the harder the priest went. Dean’s cock begged for mercy. The demon whimpered, whispering Father Novak’s name as he felt himself grow closer and closer to falling off the edge and until oblivion.
“Show unto us the blessed fruit of thy womb!”
Dean’s back arched, pushing back into the priest with each thrust. He wanted more, needed more. Having noticed that Dean was close, Father Novak drove his cock in harder. He let go, knowing Dean could handle it, thrusting into him even more. Faster and faster, harder and harder until Dean’s legs shook and his mouth hung open, pressed against the altar.
“Jesus!”
The sound that came out of Dean wasn’t a moan, wasn’t human. He yelled out, a demonic roaring scream that surely every demon on earth and in hell would hear. Dean forced his eyes open and looked out into the sanctuary. The candles were half melted, dripping onto the floor below them. Dean wanted to feel them poured onto his flesh, searing his skin open.
“O’ Clement! O’ Loving!”
Father Novak’s cock pulsated inside of Dean as he filled him. The priest’s come was hot inside of Dean. It was all the demon needed before he, too, was spilling out onto the altar. Demon growls escaped his throat, mixing with the moans that passed through his lips.
“O’ sweet Virgin Mary!”
______
Dean zipped up his jeans, thankful that he hid an extra pair of clothing under one of the pews earlier in the day when he was at mass. He had attempted to come to confession then, but Father Novak told him to return that evening. And Dean was thankful that he did. He could feel the soreness inside, and wanted to keep there; his own private treasure.
“Same time next week, padre?”
“Father,” the priest corrected.
Dean snorted. “Dude, it means the same thing.”
Father Novak stepped toward, his blue eyes staring daggers at Dean. “Father. Not padre. Not dude. Father.”
The way the priest commanded Dean made his cock twitch. “Yes, Father.”
Father Novak’s face softened. His lips curled up in a smile that was so subtle Dean almost missed it. “But afterwards, Castiel will do just fine.”
“Cas-ti-el.” Dean repeated, letting the name roll off his tongue. It tasted like whiskey and home and somehow of home.
“Come during confession next week. I’m sure I’ll come up with another way to help cure you of your… vile ways.”
“I’m sure you will,” teased Dean. He stopped and looked at the priest, blushing. “Castiel?”
“Yes, Dean?”
Dean hesitated a moment before stepping forward and kissing the priest. The kiss was soft, gentle. There was no roughness, no want, only need. It lasted barely a moment before Dean pulled back. It would do for now.
“See ya next week, Castiel.”
“Til next time, Dean.”