Page 50 of Satan's Priest
“Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned. It’s been a week since my last confession,” the student on the other side whispered.
I turned my head, peeking at the girl through the screen. I could make out the shine of her blonde hair from the sliver of light inside her booth. Her moss-green eyes held sadness as she gazed at my shadowed form.
“Go ahead, child. Tell me your sins,” I purred, curious to know what she’d done to need forgiveness.
She swallowed and shifted in her seat, the wood beneath her creaking with the nervous movement. We stayed silent as she gathered the courage to tell me what she’d done.
“This stays confidential?” she whispered. A heavy burden weighed down her voice, seeking someone to lift it from her. I was that someone. I wanted to know what this little succubus had been up to, even if I shouldn’t have been there or cared anything about her or her sins.
“I . . . I have been having sinful thoughts about people,” she began.
More silence.
“What kinds of thoughts?” I pressed.
If I’d had to guess, they were thoughts about sex. Humans who followed God were conditioned to tame their desires because waiting strengthened the bond between them and the other person. Some also believed it to be sins of the flesh and that it went against God’s will.
She shifted again in her seat, clearly uncomfortable about where her thoughts were going.
I leaned back in my seat, steepling my fingers in my lap. “It’s only us here, child. Your secrets are safe with me.”
“God would be upset with me if he wasn’t already,” she whispered.
“God knows all. He knows your thoughts, even mine. We are all sinners and will never be perfect in his eyes. It’s why he sent his son to die for our sins. But I’d like to think that he’s a busy man and that right now”—I turned my head toward the screen, staring straight into her green eyes—“he isn’t here with us. It’s just you, me, and our sins.”
A breath shuddered out of her. “I gave a complete stranger a blow job.”
“Did you like it?”
She sputtered, jerking back in her seat. “F-father?”
“Did you like sucking that man’s cock?” I asked again, my voice an octave deeper.
When she’d told me about it the other evening, I had lain in bed, my dick in my fist as I pictured her on her knees as she sucked off some human. Her lip gloss had been smeared, and her mascara smudged from tears as she took all of him down her throat. When I saw her with her makeup messed up that night, I couldn’t think about anything else other than what she would look like on her knees for me.
“Yes, I liked it.” She squirmed in her seat, and her breathing picked up until she was panting. She was thinking about it, too.
“Did you let him come inside your mouth?”
She audibly swallowed. “Yes.”
My booth filled with her scent of lust and arousal. I had to hold myself back from leaving this booth to join her and erase any trace of the other men who’d had her.
She’s a goddamn kid, Lucien.
My hard dick twitched, and I leaned my head back against the thin wall behind me. “And here you are, not burning in the fiery pits of Hell.” I smiled. “It seems the Lord doesn’t care.”
Her breath hitched.
“Did you do anything else with this man?”
“No,” she blurted. “But . . . I-I have a boyfriend.”
My eye twitched, and I clenched my jaw. “Does he know about this?”
“No. He . . .” She paused to gather more courage before she started again. “He’s upset with me. I was a little too rough with him, and I hurt him. I didn’t mean to.”
A smile spread across my face. “I’m sure he will forgive you, just how God will forgive you too.”