She could hear the tremble in his voice. He was touching himself when he asked if she was being a good girl. Of course, she was, well in her own little twisted way. Her breaths deep and with conviction, she assured the man on the phone that her trip was going well and that she had made good friends. What she didn’t mention was the friend she had made sat next to her with his hand rubbing her soft Nubian skin. Was it the fact that he was a stranger, or the fact that his light hand made such a deep contrast against her dark skin? Either way, it was confession time.

Brian loved how comfortable she was on the phone. She didn’t hide her need from the man, nor from him. She would be a filthy addition to his “family”. He watched and listened as she told of her day and meeting the nice stranger at the bar. How he bought her drinks, took her to dinner, and that’s where she left the story. Brian knew what she was doing. She was feeding him just enough to wonder if she allowed herself to be tainted with the touch of another man. Something he loved. Girls who don’t hid their needs have always been the most attractive to him. Maybe it was just the dirty old man side of himself that mad his cock throb in his pants, or could be her seductive words that lured him to erection.

“That was my father. He knew that I wasn’t alone,” she trembled. “He could tell it from the way my voice quivered. I will tell him about all of this, you know,” she smiled, her perfect white teeth catching her bottom lip in a light squeeze.

“Shhh little one. Close your eyes and let yourself explore as you confess. Feed me,” he whispered.

Her breath held so much behind each pant. She wanted to tell him everything, but hesitation kept her words in a little longer. Adinna was scared of being judged, though she knew that he never would. How could he? His guilt ran much deeper than her own.

Licking her lips, she kept her eyes closed as he asked. She wanted to touch herself, write a novel across her flesh. Allowing her to open the book was all she needed. Resting her hand on her knee, Adinna slowly stroked her flesh. The slightest of movements released a faint scent of the coconut lotion she applied liberally before leaving her room. She had soaked her body into a beautiful sheen, not knowing that it was one of his favorites.

“At first I felt dirty, you know. Letting him see me touch, but Daddy turned the lights low and we never raised our voices above a whisper. It seemed filthier that way,” she whispered. “I’m soaking now, I can feel it between my legs,” she added.

“Focus little one. Just allow your fingers to talk to me right now. I already know your words,” Brian whispered.

Pulling in a deep breath, she held it for a moment before allowing herself to breath again. Stroking her hands softly over her inner thighs, one hand on each side painting a picture in braille. He couldn’t see her, but he could hear the soft moans she held back as the very tips of her nails scraped upwards. She wanted to tell him everything, but body was the perfect way to give her confession to the man. As the hem of her dressed inched up, she could hear him adjust himself in his seat. His body was as heightened as hers. She could hear it without even seeing him.

That scent drove him wild. One of his favorites, he would love to lather his cock the same, but not yet. Anticipation is the only drug he fully indulged in.

“Show me,” he said.

She felt his hand on her own. Moving higher over the front of her silk panties, she showed him through the darkness of the room. Moving her fingers for a moment, Adinna allowed him to feel the dew that dripped from her lily. Her panties saturated in the nectar. With her mind spinning, the sensation of her own hand once again sending shockwaves of impending pleasure through her core. She had done this with one other man, and now him.

“There. See what you’ve done little one,” Brian spoke.

Her flesh felt like spun sugar beneath his fingers. Soft, sweet, and decadent to the touch, and he was sure the taste would prove the same. Not yet though. She hadn’t earned his taste yet. That would come when she fed him a little more from her lips.

Nodding in the dark, Adinna knew he didn’t need to hear her confessions. He could feel them for now. Prickles of lust now blanketing her body, the fire flowed through her veins. She wanted him to know everything even if it meant he would label her a whore.

“I was the one he wanted all along. Not her. For years she was just a substitute for him. He never said it, but I knew it. I felt it when he looked at me and her. His eyes hungry for my flesh as he avoided hers all together. I’m sure that’s why she eventually left. She couldn’t play the game any longer. Not when he accidently called my name with her,” Adinna, giggled almost in a smug manner.

She was sure it was hard for the older woman to compete with someone so soft and young. Flesh that held the wonders of the world beneath it, not already soiled with the filth of others. Being first has a special ring to it. Like it’s an honor or even a privilege to show another how powerful they really are. Her body stretched out, she placed his hand on the front of her soaked panties, smiling wickedly with desire.

“Can you imagine how that will taste, feel, and even, smell? Like the cotton candy at the first carnival of the summer. Something so enticing that you will never lick enough off your lips to rid yourself of me,” she whispered.

More to come.

One

Two

Three

The post Confession time – am I a bad girl? Pt 4 appeared first on Seductive Gypsy.

“Secret confessions are whispers from the soul, hidden in the quiet corners of the heart. They carry the weight of truths too fragile for the world to hold, yet too loud to silence forever. In the stillness of solitude, they escape in hushed tones, hoping for redemption, understanding, or release. These private admissions shape us, reveal us, and haunt us. Though unspoken aloud, they echo endlessly within, reminding us of our vulnerabilities and desires. A secret confession is not weakness—it is the bravest part of us daring to be heard, even if only in the dark.”

Sitting across from the man, she twitched slowly when he reached over, dimming the lights in the room. The city outside was the only thing that illuminated the room. He was making it comfortable for her to confess her dirtiest secret yet. 

“I’ve always found him to be my weak spot. The way he talks to me with such powerful words. How he calls me his little angel. I know it’s wrong, but I couldn’t resist any longer,” she whispered.

Her teeth now giving her bottom lip a grip, she knew in her heart he wouldn’t judge, but her mind played filthy little tricks on her. Some wouldn’t understand the bond they had with each other. 

Smirking, Brian was getting everything he wanted from the young girl. He knew there was an attraction when he watched her at the pool, but this was better than he could have ever expected. She was one of those dirty girls that he wanted. He could feel the way his cock pulsed. Rising quickly, but this was going to be a long night and he was in no hurry to rush.

Licking her lips, Adinna took a deep breath, almost whispering the confession. 

“It started a bit ago. I noticed he watched my every movement. Bought me clothing that he liked, and even made sure that I went for weekly manicures and pedicures. I had to be the only girl in school who had them because the others seemed so envious. Daddy would get them along with me. Making sure to pick out the deepest red for me always. Even when I asked for others, he denied it. Daddy has a way of getting what he wants. I think the ladies knew something was off, but they never said a word.” she laughed. 

She now had Brian’s full attention. His mouth watering to slip her heels off and look at those toes. How could she know that red was his baby girl’s color as well? Maybe all daddies like that for their little girls. Each word she confessed took his arousal to a deeper level, strengthening his need. 

“So, he takes good care of you?” he inquired. 

She nodded, shivering at the knowledge that her panties were damp with need. She wondered if he could smell the heat that built between her thighs. Her daddy always told her that he knew that she needed him because her scent was sweeter when aroused. Maybe it was because every morning before she slipped from the bed he brought her a big cup of fresh squeezed pineapple juice. He would sit on the bed and make sure she drank every single drop before he gave her a morning kiss and let her get ready for the day. Sometimes that included a long bubble bath. He did love to wash her hair for her and make sure that she was clean all over.

“He does. The night before he allowed me to come on this trip he spent hours in the dark whispering secrets to each other. He even packed my bags for me so I have all the sexiest clothes. He likes for me to call him at night and tell him what I wore and if anyone noticed. I guess I will need to tell him about tonight,” she giggled. 

Adjusting himself, Brian moved to sit next to Adinna, his hand now on her soft caramel skin. The contrast of light and dark made the older man slightly growl out of need. The way she spun her words drove him wild with a drunken lust. 

“Such a good girl you are to always do as told. I can appreciate a young woman who respects her father in such a way,” he said. 

She watched his hand as he spoke. Each layer of skin he touched now blanketed with a soft ripple of chills. It was as though he was writing his lust in braille on her flesh. A masterpiece for only the two of them to enjoy. As his fingers moved closer to her heat, she trembled in anticipation of a confession she never meant to confess.

“Sometimes, his breath on my skin makes me say words that only a whore should repeat. The filth that he draws out of me causes someone else to possess my body and at times, it frightens me at what I want him to do to me,” Adinna whimpered, her hand moving to her mouth to shush her lips.

Was she sharing too much with him? Adinna knew he wouldn’t judge her, but this secret seems so dirty. 

Leaning close, he pressed his lips close to her ear, whispering, “Let it go. Tell me everything that haunts your body. I promise to keep you safe.”

The room now dark, Adinna leaned back on the couch, her eyes closing softly as all inhibitions went away. It was time she told someone her secret confessions. 

“He, well, he allowed me to touch myself while he did the same. I couldn’t see him, but I could hear the hitch in his voice the moment he loosened himself from his pants. Daddy told me before he explored my body, he wanted me to learn how to do it first. A girl should always know the places that warm her the most. At first it felt like electricity when I touched the smoothness. God, so silky smooth and warm. He tasted me from my fingers and growled like a beast,” she giggled.

Her soft whimpers drove his mind wild. He wouldn’t touch himself, not yet at least. It was the mind fuck that made Brian crave this dirty girl. Knowing she was inches away from him and touching what would soon be his sent waves of pleasure through his body. The moment she offered her fingers to him, every thought left his body. She tasted like honey before it had been spun. Pure, rich, and decadent. She was his hive and he was the little bee that craved her sweet nectar. 

Lost in her own body, Adinna shook the moment her phone rang. Instinct forcing her to grab it, she answered without thinking. 

“Princess, are you being a good girl?”

In the middle of it all, her own father felt the need to call. Did he know what was pleasing another man? A good dominate always knows when a well-trained baby girl is doing what she was born to do. 

Her legs opened a bit more, fingers feathering over her slickened mound, Adinna held back a whimper, and whispered her hidden filth in only a code he would know. 

“Of course. I am always a good girl for you,” she giggled.

More coming soon. 

Part One

Part Two

The post Confession Time: My Dirtiest Secret Yet Pt.3 appeared first on Seductive Gypsy.

Her body alive with a million fluttering butterflies, she didn’t turn down the offer to join him in his room for a late night drink. It was the looks from the staff and other diners that lightened her step and increased her confidence. Young in age, she knew that after tonight, she would never look at that innocent girl in the mirror again. Daddy Brian would take her on a ride that so many desired but never ventured. 

Another step across the threshold, this time his hand rested on the small of her back guiding her in. Both of them know that when that door closes, something will change between them. An awakening.

“So, tell me more about your life at home? Have you lived with your father alone for a long time?” he asked, fishing for a deeper confession. 

She stood in front of the large pane of glass that looked out over the pool area, touching the window to brace herself before speaking. A quick shiver traveling up her spine, she knew he was wanting her to spill the truth, but would he understand? 

“Since I was in grade school it’s just been the two of us. Sure, I see my mother once a year, but that’s enough for me. She isn’t the nicest woman on the planet,” she laughed. 

Brian took it all in, she was holding something back and he knew it. She lit up when she talked about her father, but not her mother. Maybe she was the cause of the divorce between her parents. Was it guilt that put the hesitation in her voice, or was it the need for her fathers attention? 

“Anyways, enough about that, what about you? I was told that this is the first time here without your daughter. Are you two close?” she asked, her voice whimsical. She knew they were because of the stories the staff told, but would he tell her the real truth? What if this was the room he always booked. Adinna wondered for a moment if they laid on that gray couch that took up most of the room and enhanced their bond. Again, curiosity was getting the best of her. 

She turned from the view, watching Daddy Brian as she walked across, taking the very seat that her mind told her the girl sat. She wanted to know, to feel, and maybe even to cause even more rumors to spin around the hotel. By morning she could be the next person the staff whispered about. It didn’t scare her. She was too intrigued to leave. 

“She couldn’t make it this time. A prior commitment, but she calls me every night to make me miss her,” he laughed. 

Adinna listened, stiffening when he told her that his daughter missed him. How could she not, but then again, here she was with him. Would he tell his daughter about the girl by the pool? Or lie and say he spent the trip alone? They might have just met, but she could tell this man didn’t hold back anything from anyone. He was proud of his accomplishments. On any other day she might be friends with the girl. That could prove to be dangerous for all. 

On the couch the world around them stopped. It was confession time. One little tidbit at a time. Something about Brian was safe. He wouldn’t judge her.

Reaching out, he placed a loving hand on her lower thigh. Just leaving it there to see how she reacted to touch. Adinna didn’t disappoint. Her body relaxed, smile softened, and she seemed to suddenly have a warm glow about her. She was at home and didn’t even realize the carnal intentions of the man next to her. 

“Has your father brought you to a place like this yet?” he asked. 

Her eyes lit up with a million stars dancing in the darkness. He had once brought her away on vacation, just the two of them at a place where no one knew who and what they were. 

“Once. We went to a little resort in Costa Rica. He had a private beach for us and a bungalow away from the other tourists,” she blushed.

His curiosity now peeked, he knew there was something she was holding back. She was the perfect little baby girl for an older daddy such as himself.

“Tell me more. I would love to know how you two express your love for one another,” he said.

She twisted her fingers in the hem of her dress, her teeth clamping down on her bottom lip. Never once had she spoken the words she was about to say, but something about him felt right. 

“You know, hugging, touching, like you do I suppose,” she whispered. 

Had she said too much? Adinna feared upsetting others, that’s why it was always a secret she kept so close to her heart. 

“He has me, you know,” she looked at the crotch of his pants, “Make him feel nice.”

They hadn’t crossed the line and fully had sex yet, but she knew it was a matter of time and it scared her. What if, god, too many what if moments stood in her way of finding true happiness. 

Brian smiles, reaching out to stop her from putting a hole in her gown. Her embarrassment was beautiful on her. 

“There is nothing wrong, baby girl. Daddy’s love their girls so deeply that they want to make sure they always feel special,” he said. 

With her hand resting in his, he allowed her to see the softer side of him. The one the hotel staff knew nothing about. They assumed he was a dirty old man, and in ways he was, but still, he loved his baby girls the way a man should. Fully, and with intense emotional release.

Ready for another part? Keep your eyes open. It’s only starting.

The post Our Time – Quenching His Thirst – part 2 appeared first on Seductive Gypsy.

Since the beginning of time, the fight between good and evil has been prevalent in the Catholic church. Most of it swept under the rug, well, until recent years. With the uncovering of molestation, the entire religion took a brutal hit from the believers and the non-believers—most of them taking a step back until the world moved on to its next conflict. The Catholic church is now under investigation for the sexual contact between Priests and young male parishioners. At Sacred Heart, that is only the tip of the iceberg where the abuse begins and ends.

Vanessa knew the moment she walked into the small chapel where the Nuns prayed she was in for the fight of her life. Someone opened the doors for the Devil and offered a soul to take. A young nun in exchange for a large amount of cash. What is one life when you have twenty more waiting to take her place?

As she entered the small foyer, the first thing Vanessa noticed was the aromatic scent of smoke. Not incense, but cigar smoke. It was pungent and burned her nose the moment she shut the oversized wooden door. There is no smoking allowed on the church grounds, and this was a place not accessible to anyone but the church staff. Heaven forbid, a Priest was not polluting himself with something as vile as smoking a cigar.

“Hello?” she called out. The doors to the main chapel opened only a crack. “You can’t smoke in here? It’s a church,” Vanessa added. As she stood frozen in place, the sound of a male clearing his throat came from the other side of the door. There was someone in there.

“Come in here, Sister,” the voice called out.

Vanessa stood for a moment. She knew the moment she opened the door, she would come face to face with the evilest being. Were the bowels of hell on the other side of the door and the scent she smelled flesh burning from the souls he stole? Or had someone made their way off the streets and ended up in the chapel? Was the voice the fear that she felt rushing through her veins, or was the male a temptation she could never resist? The questions boggled her mind with not only fear, but curiosity. To be lured to the other side of the wall is a test of faith and willpower. At 18, Vanessa was weak in both areas.

“Sister, you will do as I say,” he called out again. A soft tap of fingertips on the polished wood inside the chapel echoed out into the front of the building. The man is losing patience, and though unknown to the young nun, that is the last thing she wants to happen. An idle mind is the Devil’s playground, and though this man lives on the topside of the earth, his connections to hell run deep.

Vanessa slowly advanced, the tips of her fingers tapping on the doorknob. It’s something you do when you fear fire on the other side of the wall. Noticing it was cool, she slipped inside the room, not bothering to open the door any farther. Her petite frame allowed her to glide in without effort. It took a minute for her eyes to adjust to the change in light, but when they did, she noticed the man sitting at the front of the church. A billow of smoke rising from his lips. He sat there like a King without a crown.

“You can’t smoke in here. The Mother Superior strictly forbids anyone other than members of the church in this portion of the grounds. I can show you to the other church if you wish,” she spoke in a meek voice.

A loud burst of laughter radiated from the front of the church as the male ashed his cigar on the carpet of the old building. His eyes never diverted from the young nun who graced him with her presence. He knew she was attractive, but this girl had the face of an angel, and he was sure that under that bullshit the church forced her to wear, she was exquisite. He could almost taste the honey that poured from her core. Surely, he could smell her cunt through each layer of clothing.

“I can assure you that your Mother Superior has no reason to punish me for smoking here. She’s busy sucking the dick of the Bishop right now, so let’s leave her be, okay?” said the male. As he lifted his cigar to his lips again, she noticed the ring on his finger. Unable to make it out, Vanessa knew that was something special. Maybe this man was not the Devil after all, but then again, was he a wolf in sheep’s clothing? “Come forward and pray for me, sister. I am a sinner, and you need to ask God to forgive me for my indiscretions,” he laughed. Snapping his fingers to get her attention, he pointed to the ground in front of him where he sat.

“Down on your knees. You will take communion from me today,” he smirked.

Vanessa shook her head back and forth, her knees trembling as she advanced, “Please don’t ask this of me. I can’t do this.”

Sitting up, he pulled his zipper down, removing his flaccid cock from his pants. “Get on your fucking knees before I rip the back of your throat out with the head of my dick!”

Tears pouring down her cheeks, Vanessa advanced to kneel between the legs of the man, her eyes on his cock. She knew he intended to hurt her, and she feared the pain that came from within his soul. As Vanessa wrapped her hand tight with the rosary, the young nun moved in, her tongue slithering up the thick underbelly of his massive member. If he was this large at a soft stage, she knew when his erection raged on that she would taste blood in her mouth. Nothing about this man hinted at being loving and sensual.

Using the hand that held the cigar, he wrapped his fingers in the back of her veil. He slowly pushed her mouth down on his dick, not stopping until her warm oral cavity fully engulfed the semi-hard member. A soft growl and his hips pushed up to force the young nun to whimper for air. “Suck my cock, you fucking whore. Suck my dick for Jesus,” he laughed, releasing his hand only to ash the cigar in the middle of her back. His hand quickly went back to the veil she wore, holding it tight as his balls smacked her chin.

Gargles of saliva in her throat, Vanessa felt the tears pouring down her cheeks. She was gagging and choking when his cock reached the full erection, suddenly tasting the copper as it poured down her throat. He had no mercy on the young girl. As her nostrils flared, she fought for each breath she took, not knowing if that would be her last.

Grunting with every thrust, the male pulled back, leaning down to spit on her saliva-covered face. “In the name of God, forgive this little fucking slut for taking the seed of someone other than her husband,” he growled, pushing her head back down in his dick. Three more thrusts and the cum spilled from the head of his dick, ropes of heat flooding her throat. He would not stop until his balls once again sagged with relief.

Pouring from her mouth and nose, the semen of from man stained Vanessa with unbearable heat. Falling back, the young Nun lay on the chapel floor, her eyes fixed at dilated on the stained glass of the ceiling. Were the figure etched in glass laughing at her, or praising her for a job well done?

The male stood and pushed his cock back into the confines of his tailored slacks. As he hovered over the young nun, he pinched the cigar to collect up some of the ash with one finger. Leaning down, he placed the cross on her head with the soot, smirking. “I’ll make my donation on the way out. It was a good prayer session, Sister.”

The post Young Sister Honors Ash Wednesday appeared first on Seductive Gypsy.

The sweet smell of her innocence still stained his fingers. Her skin like silk, he had to touch her even though he felt the list of sins growing. She wasn’t his prize to take, but god dammit, he would have every inch of her body marked with his filth before he was done. Pure as new fallen snow, he would taint her body with layers of shame.

The moment her curves formed they sent her away to the safest place possible. The church had small dorm rooms for girls that secluded them from the Priests for the safety of both. Whispers in the halls told of a shame that scalded the church with secrets that no one dared to speak of. If they did, Satan himself would unleash his fury on the inhabitants of the holy house.

“Why did they send you away, my child,” he asked.

Tears flooding down her cheeks, she honestly was confused. She had done nothing different. Worn all the same clothing, though it now fit much too tight. Her breasts striking, hips round, and that face. Once you drank in her beauty, every carnal need would heighten to a enraged need to devour her. Own her in ways that a man of the cloth should never think of. She would be safe there. Or would she?

“My mother said it was time. That’s all I know,” her voice cracked as she spoke.

Underneath the robe of the priest, the emotions grew. Her being as naive as she was made his manhood twitch in ways that it shouldn’t. His pulse quickened, but he needed to remain calm, for now at least. He didn’t want to frighten her, but surely she had to know the power she held over men. He was a man of the cloth and even he was having a hard time stopping the urge to take this little succubus right there in the middle of the church.

Reaching for her hand, reassuring the young woman would build her confidence. He would get what he wanted, but it would be so much easier if she spread those thighs open on her own free will.

“You were sent because you’ve developed into a beautiful young woman. The curve of your breasts, hips, and even the color of your skin. They could see that a woman such as yourself could lure even the holy father into a life of sin,” he confessed.

Shocked, she moved her hands down her body, feeling the changes that she hadn’t noticed. Was he right? Was she so bad that even God would risk meeting the Devil because of her? It was at that moment that she felt both filthy and powerful. Something he hadn’t predicted was the smile that creased her lips. Not one of embarrassment, but one of hunger.

Dismissed for the night, the seed now planted in her mind, her core ached from the raging fire building within. She needed to be alone in her room, and quickly. The urge to touch herself now dripping down her silky flesh.

The room was small. Just a bed and a dresser. Still, it was better than the one she had at home. If she touched herself, would she burn in hell forever? It was a risk she was willing to take. The hunger stronger than it had ever been before.

Slipping from her clothing, she folded each article and placed it on the dresser. A simple stark white gown is what she would sleep in. Pure as she was, the gown fully covered her starving body. Not for food, but for touch. The cross on the wall seemed to loom over her the moment she slipped under the blankets. It felt as though the eyes of Jesus watched her as he hung on that beautiful cross. It was then that she felt what the Priest spoke of. Her hands moving down, tracing over the curves, she felt like a dirty girl. No, a filthy one. The heat beneath the blanket scalding her flesh as she pushed the gown up, tracing a single finger over her swollen nipple.

“Mmm god,” she whispered.

The soft mound rising to peeks, her hands cupped her breasts, the entire thing filling her hand. They were right. She was growing bigger than most. Her lip now clenched tight between her teeth, she moved a hand down between her legs, dampness now soaking the white panties she wore. If anyone seen them surely she would be in trouble, but she couldn’t stop. Tapping on the band around her waist, she watched the cross on the wall and her fingers slipped beneath the fabric. Would the bowels of hell open up and swallow her if she went lower. Something was pulling her hand and there was no way to control the fury within.

LOWER!

The crucifix of seemed to guide her. Fingers now parting her swollen lips, she had to cover her mouth to silence the shame. Soft and new flesh, and drenched, a single digit traced up and down the inner lips. Her core clenching the moment the small bundle of nerves touched. Pulsating beneath her fingers, she couldn’t stop. Rubbing in small circles, she used her other hand to pull the blanket back. She would show him how filthy she was. The erotic dance of her finger over her dark flesh left trickles of shame to coat the sheets below. She didn’t care. Not now that she found her own essence.

DO IT. TASTE IT.

Pulling her hand to her mouth, she suckled on the dew for the first time. Her body as sweet as spun sugar, she couldn’t stop the ravenous need to feed. Each delicate finger now clean, she moved back down to collect more for her starving body. Arching her back, the flood of warmth couldn’t be stopped. Her body gave into the pleasure that no man had ever given her. It was the awakening that transformed her into the sexual vixen she is today. As for the Priest. Wait until part 2. Shocking things ahead. 

The post Innocence Stolen By Her Own Hands appeared first on Seductive Gypsy.

Disclaimer. This is pure fantasy. Nothing here is real.

During my life as an Escort, I have done some things I have been proud of, and some I am ashamed of. This one lays right there in the middle of the road. I had a client who asked for something specific. He wanted me to be a Nun. I am not Catholic, so I don’t play by the rules of the church, but for the most part, I have some sort of morals. Well, I thought I did at least. If you’re easily offended, skip this bit of writing.

“You have an outfit you are to wear on the date. Just ask Janice for the box.”

Dave was very straight to the point and cold, but he was in this business to make money, not friends. He reminded me of that many times. Being the warm soul that I am, at times found this to be hard.

Standing in the foyer of the office, I lifted the lid to the outfit and burst out in a fit of laughter. It was a Nuns habit. He wanted me to be a Sister for him. Everything was once a first, and this right here was shocking. Inside the box was the black habit, some rosary beads, and crucifix, and a bible. Even just looking at this stuff made my stomach quiver. The note at the bottom made me shake though.

“You are to dress in the outfit and meet me at St. Paul’s cathedral. Be there at 9 pm for a confession. You will be using the 3rd confessional from the right. Do not be late.”

Holy fuck, he was going to make me attend church like this. What does a fake Nun do at a church? I don’t even know how to be a good, or bad, Catholic.

At 8:57 pm I arrived dressed in the habit, the bible in my hand, and the beads hanging from the belt. I googled the proper way to wear the outfit. The only thing off was that I did have makeup on, and I was wearing a very seductive perfume. I figured he would know it was me by my scent. I think real Nuns are forbidden from wearing anything that enhances their appearance. I am not a real Nun though.

My head kept its gaze to the floor, walking into the confessional that I was instructed to sit in. A little shock was that there was a prayer candle, a lighter, and some holy water inside. Something told me this was going to be a very deviant act. I will admit that I am worried about the afterlife now. I was about to be paid for something so deviant, so morally wrong, that I knew I would rot in hell for it.

A slide of the window and this voice spoke softly. He wasn’t the devil. He was a human being, but was he a Father? A Priest? God, what if I was about to speak filthy to a Man of the cloth.

“In the name of the Father, and the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. My last confession was never.”

I heard the sigh from the other side. Maybe he wanted me to be Catholic. I’m not of any faith, so this would all be new to me. I went to church as a child, but never as an adult. I felt my life choices wouldn’t be accepted, and I never went back. I am sure my parents are not understanding that.

“I want you to take the rosary and insert the beads one at a time in your asshole. You will leave the cross to hang. You will feel it pressing against your flesh. Do it now!”

His voice changed a bit. When I think later, I will claim that Satan at this point entered his body and was commanding through him. I know this is not possible, but I honestly then felt I was sitting with the Devil himself.

Spitting on the beads, I pushed the first one in my asshole, each one felt rough to the touch, and as though it was ripping into my anal cavity. I was sure this was just my mind working overtime here. How could this man afford this? I was thinking the entire time that maybe he has stolen my fee from the collection basket. He was getting off with a whore and using the money that the church collected for the homeless, and the sick. I am a fucking sinner!

“Father, it’s in. All of the beads are in my ass and the cross is resting on my vagina.”

I just said vagina to a holy man. My mind was calling me every filthy name ever created.

“Take the prayer candle and slid it in your cunt. Fucking your sin slit with it. Now Sister.”

What the hell was wrong with this Man? He was making me fuck my whore pussy with something that had been blessed and placed there to resolve the sins of the lost. I did as I was told, and the moment that slender white pillar candle pushed through my tight slit, I felt a release. I came. How the fuck does one cum this way? Placing my hand to my mouth, I whimpered through to rush of sin that flooded my body, not wanting to alert anyone of my deviance. I could hear his jacking off in the other confessional. He was raping his cock with his hand, fucking himself to my sickness.

“You came, whore? You came all over the Father?”

I admitted to my sin, and that’s when it went silent for a moment. My door opened quietly and this Priest stood before me. Pushing my head back, looking down into my face, his cock was placed right on my lips. He was hard as a rock and his face. Oh god, his face was evil. It was pure evil.

Opening my mouth, he shot his cum right there on my tongue. It was scalding hot and tasted horrid. I never had tasted anything like it in the past. I hope to never taste it again.

“I absolve you of all your sins, in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Amen”

Leaning down, he lit the candle that was still inside of my pussy, and he was gone. I don’t know if I did this with a real Priest, but I feel as though something unholy went through my body that night. Something so dreadful that I will forever burn in hell. Funny thing is, I never came like that in the past. Never had I felt like I was completely on fire.

The post Blasphemy At It’s Finest appeared first on Seductive Gypsy.

Warning: This contains subject matter that some would find offensive. Blasphemy included.

A blasphemy fantasy might scare some, but I am the kind of girl who finds the spiritual side of life taboo. Growing up, having my knuckles whacked with a ruler, and my soul said to be going to Hell. I don’t scare easy, and I have my dress picked out for my first dance with the Devil.

Sighing out, it was Sunday morning, and I had missed Mass again. It was becoming a sad routine for me. I had even laid out a dress, heels, and stockings on the chair by the bed. Of course, my bible rested on the top of that pile. I never go to church without it. Through the pages, I have written in the side notes, but I added pictures to go along with the verses I love.

A temptress can lead a Man to temptation. One look into her eyes, and she will force you from grace and be your guide to Hell. My notes in this area come with pictures that show acts of blasphemy and whispers of how the Devil’s temptations taunt us.

As I sat on the edge of the bed, my long red nails traveling through the pages of ancient times. I got lost for a moment in my latest blasphemy fantasy.

“Sister Mary Catherine, what are you doing inside of there for so long?”

The young Nun had been in the confessional for an hour now, the line outside growing. On the cusp of the holy season. The church had been preparing for the influx of parishioners.

Settled back in the tiny wooden room, the prayer candle now worked in and out of her holy hole. On the other hand, Father Jacob had blown four loads inside the small confines of the booth. What would happen if found?

“Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned. It’s been a day since my last confession, and last night, I did something horrible. I am ashamed and need forgiveness for my sins.”

Father Jacob had since pulled his dick from beneath the robe. The bible now on the floor and collecting drops of his precum on the pages. Fluid leaked as he stroked and listened to the new Nun tell her about her miss deeds and failures.

“I left my room at 3 am to get a drink of water from the kitchen. Walking by Father Michael’s room, I heard the sounds of lust. He was calling out for women. Vile words came from his room, and I thought I could help him. Help him sleep through the suffering.”

She went on to tell of how she entered the room and found him pounding away at his fist. He was jerking off and calling out all the names of the Nuns in the parish. Her hand was now rubbing her clit hard, soaking her fingers to the knuckles.

“Sister Mary Catherine, please! People are waiting for this room!”

The Mother Superior was getting quite agitated with her. She needed to confess what she had done with the Father and how she had lived out her blasphemy fantasy.

“Father, he was in so much pain. His penis engorged with fluids. I tried to help by stroking him. My fingers were wrapping around the thick, elongated shaft. The more I pumped, the harder he got. That’s when he suggested I place him in my mouth and take communion from him.”

The Father was now stroking harder as the Nun explained the events of her first blow job. How she tried so hard, but couldn’t get him to blow a load.

“At first, I licked him. Long strokes up and down his cock. Then he suggested that I take him deep into my mouth. I almost cried when his hand forced my head down. He was so hard and beastly. His member was raging.”

She massaged over her wetness, forcing the candle in and out of her pussy. She was supposed to be a virgin, but the night before had taken that. Losing t her virginity to the Father who she tried to help the night before. The white pillar candle that she now used still had traces of red staining.

As I sat on the bed writing this, I knew that I would be going to Hell in the afterlife. How could I not? Everything about this was wrong, but I could see it all in my mind while writing it.

“Father Michael was in horrible pain. He asked me to place him inside of my womanhood. To allow his cock to break my bindings with God. I wore my wedding ring as I grabbed his cock. When I wrapped my fingers around him and inserted him in the seal, I felt my finger burning. I know that God was watching me and casting stones on me. Oh, god, Father Jacob, I allowed him inside of me fully!”

The Father in the booth coaxed to her to go on. She knew he was jerking off. She could hear his hand rubbing over his dick. He was bringing himself to orgasm after orgasm with her dirty words.

“I’m scared, though, Father. He pushed all the way in and relieved himself. Told me I would be carrying his baby now. A child would be inside of me, and I would have to hide it from the others. How, Father, how can I hide his child? I can’t do this. I wanted to help him, and he gave me a baby.”

Her words stopped as she finally came. She knew she was pregnant with his child and that blasphemy fantasy made her pussy squirt. Sister Mary Catherine had come where there should never be filth.”

Replacing the candle on the wall and pulling her robe down, the young Nun still flush-faced and ran from the room. She told them she was ill and had fallen asleep in the arms of the lord. Of course, no one can fault her for that. Jesus is where she should feel safe.

Exhaling deep, my hand slide into the dresser to my right. My favorite dildo now in my hands. If I couldn’t go to church, I would pray at home. Taking the rosary bead from the nightstand, I dipped them in lube and bead, by bead, I slid them into my asshole. Only the cross was showing when done. It rested on my asshole and tickled a little.

The bible laying now on my stomach, I shivered from the power behind it. I know the words hold so much to them that instead of watching porn, I held the book up and read. Hell is where I was going when I slid that dick inside of me. That fake one that felt like a dagger plunging into my core. How deviant can one fall before worried? I will let you know when I find out.

“Our Father, thou art in heaven.”

She moaned out. The words never held a lot of meaning until now. I was soaking wet from this. I was saturated so much that the tiny replica of Jesus that hung out of my ass made wet slaps. Would God forgive me for this one? Would he chalk it all up to a blasphemy fantasy? Or would he shove me down to the fire pits of Hell and let me rot?

Clenching my cheeks around the threaded beads, my cunt exploded into a river of lust. Not before I placed the bible between my legs and caught all the splattering juices. I have never in my life came with that intensity or power. All I needed was for the control of Christ to compel me. Shaking as I laid in the bed of body fluids, lust, and sin, I couldn’t quite understand how I came that intense and how Sister Mary Catherine had affected me that deep. Was my blasphemy fantasy taking my soul?

Fear is what I use to feel from a blasphemy fantasy, but something inside of me changed. I now feel as though it is the one thing that makes me feel the most alive. Realizing that I have already sealed my fate could be the reason. My spot on the throne of Hell is waiting for me. No longer will I fear what controls me. I will embrace it. I know that I am never going to heaven, so why fight it?

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