The Ivory Club Ch. 03

After the brutal gangbang that poor Jane had suffered at the hands of Charles and his friends, she was at a loss as to what to do next. She still very much wanted her marriage and relationship with her husband Peter to continue; but how could she hold down a marriage when she was constantly being fucked by very large, very powerful and uncompromising black men? And as a true slut, she loved every minute of it And now the sad fact was she needed black dick to satisfy her insatiable appetite for rough black sex. She knew that her husband could no longer satisfy her and it was the dominating masterful behaviour of black men that she desired more then anything. Possibly even more then her marriage, well that was the issue.

And on top of all that, there was her successful audition. Following her virtuoso performance as a slut when she was the main star of a vicious gangbang, she was now due to appear in a film, produced and directed by Randy and Jake, two of the men who had fucked her that day, where she would be acting the part of a frustrated housewife who becomes a stripper and is forced to perform for a bunch of thuggish black men. It did not take a genius to work out what would follow, both on and off film. And she was in no position to resist, given that she had become such a black cock loving whore.

It was this very dilemma that Jane wrestled with on the immediate Sunday following her gangbang. She and her husband were at church, Jane preying for forgiveness and guidance -- black cock or her husband? - and Peter was just preying for guidance -- he after all had witnessed two of her fuckings and had been on the phone to her whilst she was being double fucked. Both times Jane did not have a clue that her husband knew what a slut she was nor did she know that Peter had cum each time, thoroughly turned on by seeing and hearing his wife get a rough fucking.

As the priest babbled on about some sort of religious nonsense, an idea struck both Jane and Peter at almost exactly the same time. Maybe the answer to all their problems was starring them right in the face? Or starring them from the pew box, to be precise. There stood the priest, a nice looking old white man who both Peter and Jane knew well ever since they moved to New York. They were regular church goers and had made a real effort to get to know their priest. He was a kind wise man and maybe Father Jones was the answer. They would try and seek guidance from him and, since they were both Catholics, they could confess their sins to him, ask to be absolved and ask for guidance. As a man of God, surely a priest of all people could guide them through this moral maze?

As they were leaving, both checked to see what time confessional was open. 10am on Monday -- excellent thought Jane, she could go when Peter was at work -- and 7pm in the evening -- Peter too was content, he could go after work.

And so the next day at 9.55am there was the beautiful Jane in church waiting by the confessional box, all ready to confess her sins to the kind Father Jones. She was understandably nervous, she was about to tell this dear old man that rather than being a dutiful wife that the church and society demanded, she was actually a slut for black cock. It wasn't surprising therefore that she felt a little flushed. As such she took off her coat to cool herself down.

Underneath her coat, she was wearing a small pleated red Burberry dress which showed off her bottom to the full and with that she wore a tight white shirt and 4 inch knee high black boots. Underneath she had on black stockings, garters, garter belt and a g-string. She was not wearing a bra. In her tight shirt her 36-DD tits looked magnificent and when she sat down you could see glimpses of flesh above her stockings.

Although she was not seeing Charles today, for some reason she felt compelled to dress in a way that Charles had ordered. He had earlier ordered her to dress like a slut whenever she was going to be in his presence. And it would appear that even when Jane was not due to be with Charles, she felt obliged to dress in a way that she knew would please him. It was as if she always had to be dutiful to her ultimate black Master. Also, she had begun to enjoy the looks she got. She always did get appreciative looks from men since she was stunningly beautiful -- often confused for a blonde Natalie Portman. But now the stares were different, especially from the black men, they were one of pure unadulterated lust. They gave her looks like they were all wanted to fuck her there and then and to show her no mercy. Jane loved it. It was perhaps not the appropriate way to look when you were going to confess your sins to Father Jones but since her initiation into black cock, Jane loved looking like a whore, even in God's house.

At this time the church seemed completely empty. There was no one in the cue for the confessional box and she would be the first that morning. She entered, closed the door and sat down and waited for Father Jones.

The confessional box was large and surprisingly quite comfortable. Inside was a bench to sit on but there were also nice plush red cushions to make the parishioners, and the good Fathers comfortable during confession. Sometimes these things could last a while. There was a wooden partition with a small window at the top to allow the priest and his confessor to adequately communicate. Unlike other confessional booths, there was no realistic way for either party to see one another.

Jane made herself comfortable but as she sat back her small dress rose up to display her lovely white flesh above her black stockings. Her black garters were also on display. Jane began to regret dressing like a slut for her confession, she tried to push her skirt down but to no avail. Giving up, she crossed her legs and allowed her skirt to rise up to her waist, this allowed pretty much all of her lovely legs to be on display.

A few minutes later, she should could hear, but not see, someone enter into the booth next to her. After giving the Father a few seconds she began:

"Forgive me Father, for I have sinned. It has been one week since my last confession..."

"Go on, my child?"

Jane froze. This was not the kind voice of Father Jones that she was so familiar with, this was rather a harsh deep voice, the deep voice of Father Ambrose, the black priest of the district...

Father Ambrose was a black priest in his late 40s. He had become a priest relatively late in life, just 5 years ago at the grand old age of 45. He had previously been a drug dealer but after he has seen his partner, his brother, gunned down after a feud with another dealer, Ambrose decided to turn to God for forgiveness. And indeed Father Ambrose was a sort of mini celebratory, he had helped a lot of kids off drugs and encouraged them to focus on education rather than mix in the drug culture that was prevalent in parts of New York. When he started out he had the best intentions also to be a celibate priest. However after a few months, he realised this was impossible. However, rather than turn his back on the good work he was doing, he decided combine his penchant for perverted sex with help for the community (the two were not always necessarily mutually exclusive!).

Father Ambrose was a tall black man, last time he measured himself he was 6ft 4. He was built like your stereotypical TV drug dealer, massive chest, shoulders and forearms. Not particularly good looking, he was now bald, slim face, big lips and an ugly out of shape nose, it had been broken many times.

His first foray into what was now forbidden pussy, was only 3 months after he had taken the sacred vows to become a priest. He had taken confession from a young schoolgirl, aged 18, who had confessed to giving her boyfriend a blow job. She was a delightful little thing, the image of Britney in her prime. The good Father could not resist and it was not long before he had instructed her to allow him to come to her house for some private counselling. Naturally her parents were not at home.

It did not take long for the little bitch to be tied up to her bed, her school blouse ripped open, her lovely small tits heaving up and down. Her school tie, which she still wore lay between the valley of her breasts and was a constant reminder that the old priest was fucking a young schoolgirl. Her pleated skirt had been flipped up to display her naked pussy (Father Ambrose had taken the liberty to rip of her knickers).

It had been a little bit of a struggle to get the delightful girl into this position, but once achieved Father Ambrose wasted little time in inserting his monstrous 13 inch dick into her virgin tender pussy. Oh how she had screamed when he had broken through. There were the inevitable cries of rape but her pussy soon told a different story. Once she had got used to its immense size and power, the bitch came again and again. That afternoon Father Ambrose must have fucked her at least five times and in every hole. Each time she came like a whore. He had ended proceedings by ordering her to kneel on all fours, just in her flat shoes, white ankle socks and school tie, and then proceeded to take a belt to her arse until it was a bright shade of red. He had then cruelly fucked her arse. It was a delightful scene.

Father Ambrose had come back to the house may times to fuck the young schoolgirl and it was not long before he had managed to fuck her mother. He had met her by mistake after one of their vigorous fuck sessions. He had just finished receiving a blow job after his dick had been up the young girl's arse, when her mother unexpectedly returned home. Luckily they had not been caught and he was able to pretend he was there on official church business. It was apparent that the mother had been very young when she had given birth, a teenage pregnancy she was only 30 years old and an older version of her beautiful daughter.

After persuading her to come to confession, where she confessed to secretly harbouring fantasies of sleeping with her husband's brother, the good Father soon had her in his vestry, over his knee and she received a sound spanking for having such wicked thoughts. The inevitable arse whipping and fucking followed shortly thereafter.

It was a quite a story and one that may be told in full another day...

Back to the present day, Jane was shocked to hear the deep commanding voice of Father Ambrose. She had hoped to confess to the more gentle, kinder Father Jones. She was about to make her excuses and leave when she decided that maybe confessing to a black priest was the way forward, after all, he would understand her predicament and situation better than most, and the advice and action suggested may be more helpful then Father Jones's inevitable kind words of forgiveness.

Jane was a whore for black cock but she wanted to save her marriage. With steely determination she decided to stay and confess her sins to the big black priest in the belief that what he said would lead her down the righteous path.

She was wrong.

Father Ambrose, having seen the delightful Jane arrive and wait at the confessional box, was eager to discover what sins this delightful bitch had to confess to. They may be the standard mundane ones that he was subjected to everyday. But they could be more interesting...

Certainly his interest had been aroused when he saw what she was wearing under her coat. Anyone with a body like that and the desire to flaunt it off so spectacularly, and in the house of God at that, was worthy of the corrupt priest's time.

With haste he suggested to Father Jones that he take the rest of the day off, he could take care of things. Father Jones was delighted, he was an old man and got tired very easily. As such, he left the poor Jane alone with the sinister Father Ambrose.

It had been thirty seconds since Father Ambrose had spoke, so he decided to help her along.

"Please go on my child, there is no reason to be afraid, you are in God's house and I am here to hear your sins".

"F-Father, I am not too sure if I can. I have been a bad girl..." Jane was genuinely scarred of confessing to the big black priest. Whenever she had been at church functions, he had looked at her in a way that, at the time, she had not really understood; but since being brutally fucked by Charles and his friends, she had realised that Father Ambrose's looks could be interpreted as being one of lust.

But then in an attempt to reassure herself, she realised how utterly silly she actually was. Father Ambrose was one of the most respected priests in New York, he regularly appeared on the news and was a rising star in the church. There was even talk of the Vatican promoting him to become a Bishop and then who knows? He was the perfect man to confess her wicked sins to. Despite being big and black, he was a man of God and could be of no threat...

"My child" Father Ambrose went on in a kind but firm manner, "God and I are here to forgive you, but how can we forgive you if you do not confess? How can I help you if you do not tell me what it is that has made you a "bad girl""?

It wad the last bit of this that made Jane shudder. She indeed was a bad girl and she desperately needed to confess.

"Y-yes Father, you are right. I need to confess. I need to tell you. I need you to help me"

"Well then go on my child, what is it that had made you bad?"

"F-Father I have slept with a man who is not my husband".

This was exactly the news Father Ambrose had hoped for. He had a slut on his hands and a gorgeous slut at that. Hopefully Jane had been very bad, they were always the best and the most likely to be corruptible. Father Ambrose's massive cock began to stir under his cassock.

"Go on my child."

"I slept with this man because he promised me a part in a film."

"Go on my child."

"He made me do all sorts of wicked things and oh Father, I agreed to do them all. And I enjoyed them Father. Father, I enjoyed being unfaithful to my darling husband.

"I love my husband, I don't want to be unfaithful but it is like a drug, I need to sleep with other men".

Jana had been careful not to mention that she was actually indicted to black cock and it was not just any man's cock that she needed. She now hoped that the good Father would forgive her and maybe offer her some advice on her future conduct. Conduct she would hope make her a good girl rather than the wanton slut she currently was.

Unfortunately for Jane it was never going to be that simple.

Father Ambrose sensed there was more and wanted more details. After allowing her a few moments to recover from confessing that she was an adulterous slut, Father Ambrose spoke.

"My child, your sins are terrible and indeed you have been a very bad girl. But before I forgive you, I need to know more. There is little point in the Lord offering you forgiveness if He does not understand fully what He is being asked to forgive.

"Now you mentioned that this man offered you a part in a film for the exchange of sexual services?."

"Yes Father, that is correct."

"Who was this man?"

"A man at my husband's office, his name is Charles Jackson". As soon as she mentioned his name, she regretted it. There was really no need to go into that much detail.

And, she had unwittingly made a fatal error in giving the priest Charles's full name since Father Ambrose knew Charles Jackson. He had met him a number of times at various social functions and had noted then how easily the distinguished black man seemed to charm the young white wives. He had always suspected that he might be a bit of a player and it turned out his suspicions were on the money.

But what was of more interest was that Jane was a slut for black cock. This young seemingly conservative innocent white wife was actually open to fuck big black men. Understandably it was this that interested Father Ambrose more than anything.

Here was a stunning young white wife, making a confession that she was craved black cock to a black priest who specialised in the seduction of white women. What a great day, Father Ambrose thought.

"Charles Jackson, the leading lawyer? The leading black lawyer?", Father Ambrose mischievously enquired.

Jane was horrified that Father Ambrose knew who Charles was and, as a result, now knew that it was not any old man that Jane had slept with, but a black man! If she was forced to confess fully, it was only a matter of time before the good Father found out that, as well as being an adulterous bitch, she was also a whore for black cock. What would a black priest make of that, she wondered?

"Yes, I mean no, oh..." Jane replied, floundering in her desperate attempt to prevent the truth from coming out.

"No need to be embarrassed, my child, I cannot repeat anything that you say in the confessional box. It is between me, you and the Lord. Charles is a good man, if he did anything wrong, he will have to make peace with the Lord himself." He did nothing wrong, thought Father Ambrose, any man would have fucked this delicious bitch.

"For this confession to have any value, you need to confess your sins properly. And for this you need to go into a lot more detail as to what happened. You need to answer all my questions thoroughly and truthfully. If I suspect you are holding anything back or are not being honest, you will not be absolved and I will not be able to help.

"Do I make myself clear, Jane?"

And there it was, another direct powerful order from a big black man. Jane swore that she would resist the next time a black man ordered her around. But this man was different, this man was a man of God and surely could be trusted, Jane thought? Of all people, this man should be obeyed, indeed not only was right, as a religious person she was always thought to follow the orders of church.

But then why was she also getting those familiar feeling of arousal, the ones she only ever got when she was being dominated by black men? Why was that familiar itch coming to her pussy and why did she want to spread her legs and play with herself? She quickly tried to put those feelings aside. This man was a priest and needed to be obeyed.

"Yes Father, you make yourself quite clear. I will tell you everything, I will answer all your questions. I so very much want to be forgiven."

"Good my child. Now let's start at the beginning shall we".

Jane then proceeded to explain to the good Father how they came to know Charles and how she ended up in his flat, the way he initially auditioned her in the presence of her husband, Peter. When she got to the bit about having to expose her pussy and breasts to Charles, Father Ambrose interrupted her for the first time:

"So my child, you displayed your underwear to another man in the presence of your husband?" Father Ambrose was impressed with Charles's work. The humiliation of the husband and the complete control over his wife was impressive stuff.

"Yes, Father, it was wrong of me."

"And what underwear were you wearing?"

Jane was initially a little taken aback by the line of questioning, but then remembering that she had promised the good Father to be truthful in all things, she answered honestly.

"I had on flesh coloured stockings with white garters and garter belt and knickers, Father. No, that's not quite right, I was not wearing knickers, I had on a thong. I was also wearing a black bra which was a couple of sizes too small."

She swore she could hear a groan next door, but said to herself that she must have been mistaken.

"Father, I did not wear these things by choice, I was told to wear these things by Charles. He told me if I did not I would not get the part and my husband's job could be in danger! I obeyed Father. Oh Father, it is so wrong of me I know..."

"My child, do not worry, provided you are truthful and honest with me, you have nothing to fear". As Father Ambrose spoke he had removed his 13 inch cock from his cassock and was now furiously rubbing it. The thought of her dressed in such underwear and a bra which would have made her tits seem larger than they already were was too much for him.