Cruelly Deceived

Passing his strong arm around her hips, Father Philippe pressed close to Sylvie's back; his strong hips rubbed against her buttocks, and he kept his stiff member thrust into her rectum as far as it would go. Sylvie could feel pulsations of pleasure throughout the swollen length, and she bit her lips as she awaited the movements which she well knew he was about to make in order to finish his enjoyment.

Obviously delighted by the tightness of this new and delicious sheath, the priest labored at Sylvie's round buttocks until, with a final lunge, he filled her bowels with great gouts of hot, thick liquid. The sensation was so wonderful that Sylvie also climaxed, despite her awareness that what the priest had done to her had very little to do with forgiveness and prayer.

Lying beneath the lustful priest and expecting that he would withdraw to allow her to expel the huge quantity of creamy semen he had deposited in her asshole, Sylvie was surprised and shocked when Father Philippe started to ride her even more strongly than before, his prick now sliding back and forth through the slippery contents of his balls.

Sylvie moaned, whimpered and sobbed but it was no use: Father Philippe was determined to run a second course of sodomy and even lifted her effortlessly on top of him so she lay full length face-up as he hooked his legs over hers so that, when he opened his legs wide, Sylvie was forced to do the same, the motion pressing her lovely rump down hard on the pole of his cock buried deeply within her overstuffed back passage.

Eventually the lustful priest spurted his semen once more into Sylvie's flooded bowels and then lifted her off his body, dragging his cock from the confines of her anus as he did so.

"My child," he panted, "that was delightful, truly wonderful. I own there is nothing whatever like the clasp of a girl's bumhole round a man's cock to give him the most sublime pleasure. I shall wish to do it again next Thursday and every Thursday after. That way will lead to the eventual salvation of your immortal soul and your forgiveness."

"Thank you, Father," was all Sylvie could say.

"Now come, my child. As a final gesture of humility, I should like you to take my prick in your mouth and suck it until you have drained the last of my manly essence while I shall apply my lips to the delightful orifice in which I have just spurted my sperm in order to cleanse it."

The teenager willingly did as she was told.

*

The months passed and Sylvie found herself unable to escape the embraces of the lustful priest. Every Thursday he would spend several hours taking his pleasure of all three holes in her body, emptying his balls first in her mouth to rid himself of the pressure of the spunk that had built up during the week, then deeply fucking her clasping cunt, finally spending what seemed like an eternity fucking her deliciously tight asshole.

However often Sylvie asked if she had done penance enough and inquired whether Maître Solange had completed the sale of her parent's house and effects, Father Philippe would explain that business matters take a long time to complete and then instruct her to hold open the cheeks of her bottom as wide as possible so the lubricating oil could reach every last crevice of her rectum before it was filled to capacity with his massive prick.

Finally, on the following Thursday after that which opens this reminiscence, when Sylvie had found herself having to endure the ordeal of the priest being so aroused he was set for a fourth climax deep within her bowels, Sylvie was told by Father Phillippe that the Bishop, Superior Jean-Yves d'Assisi, would be visiting on Saturday and that she would be presented to him as being worthy of forgiveness for the sin of incest with her grandfather. Sylvie knew then that this was her chance. She would make the bishop aware she was due the proceeds of the sale of her grandfather's house and effects, that she longed to travel to Lyons to be with her uncle, and that she had been fucked and sodomized repeatedly by the lustful Father Phillippe while supposedly in his care.

The bishop arrived in his carriage on the Saturday afternoon. Sylvie was duly introduced and curtsied politely and correctly. The bishop put out his hand to receive her and she kissed his ring as Father Philippe had told her to. Smiling at Sylvie, Bishop d'Assisi put out his hand and raised her to her feet. "Charming," he murmured. "Quite charming. And how old are you, my dear?"

"18, your Grace," Sylvie said, casting her eyes downwards.

"Perfect," the bishop said and he reached out and stroked her hair.

Sylvie excused herself immediately after dinner and made her way to her room. She undressed quickly and put on her nightdress, combing out her long, sleek blonde hair. Before long the clattering from the kitchen quietened and Sylvie knew Thérèse had gone to bed. Only the sound of the bishop and Father Philippe laughing from behind the closed door of the Father's study could still be heard in the house.

Sylvie lay on her bed with her head on her hand determined to listen for the sound of the bishop climbing the stairs to the room where he was to sleep. Trying too hard to stay awake, she dozed so her candle had almost worn down when she heard the stairs creak and the sound of Father Philippe's voice saying, "Good night, your Grace," and the bishop answering, "Good night, Philippe."

Sylvie waited for a further five minutes and then crept across the landing, taking care to avoid those floorboards which she knew creaked. She knocked very softly on the bishop's door. There was a footfall and the door opened. The bishop was wearing a red silk gown tied around his waist and Sylvie blushed when she noticed the exposed hairs of his chest at the neck of the gown.

"My child!" said the bishop in surprise.

"Please your Grace," said Sylvie rushing into the room and hurriedly closing the door behind her. "I must speak with you!"

"Come and sit by me," the bishop said, sitting on the edge of the bed. Sylvie sat next to him and was so overcome that she might soon be free of her ordeal that she burst into tears and sobbed against his chest as he threw wide his arms and embraced her.

"My child, whatever is the matter?"

Sylvie explained about the death of her grandfather, the inheritance she had been denied, and blushed as she recounted the dreadful way she had been used sexually by Father Philippe.

"My dear Sylvie, this is scandalous!" the bishop said, his face clouded with anger. "It is monstrous that you should have been subjected to so terrible an ordeal!"

"Oh thank you, your Grace. I did so hope you would understand and free me of this place that I might travel to Lyons to be with my uncle and his family."

"Of course you must, my child," said the bishop, holding her face in his hand and smiling at her. Sylvie felt the warmth of his smile and felt safe for the first time in many months. "But you do know what you are suggesting is a terrible crime committed by Father Philippe against the chastity of his calling and the sanctity of the Church, don't you?"

Sylvie was not sure she understood but she knew the bishop would explain.

"There has to be proof, dear Sylvie. Proof that that will dispel any doubt concerning the accusations you have made towards Father Philippe. Do you have proof, my child?"

"I don't know, your Grace," said Sylvie. "There is only the little opening to my bottom," and she blushed even more fiercely than before. "Only the day before yesterday Father Philippe fucked me there four times and it may still show evidence of his repeated ravishment. You could inspect it -?"

"My dear child. I know how distressing it must be for you. But I must have the proof to accuse this terrible man," the bishop said in a quiet voice. "You must show me, however much it upsets you. Please, climb on the bed and lift your nightdress over your head so that I might see where you have been so dreadfully used."

Sylvie did as she was told. She climbed onto all fours on the bishop's bed, reached back and lifted her nightdress. She knew her pretty bottom was displayed to the gaze of the bishop and felt him gently part the cheeks with his hands the better to inspect the pink puckered opening of her anus. Sylvie felt sure the bishop would see immediately the evidence the little hole had been fucked frequently.

A gasp of surprise escaped her lips as she suddenly felt hot breath on the fragrant skin and then the sensation of something warm and wet being pressed past the muscle. "Oh your Grace!" Sylvie cried as she realized he had entered her bumhole with his tongue. She tried to rise but could not: the bishop was holding her down by pressing his hands on her back. However much she wanted to, Sylvie could do nothing to escape the questing tongue being thrust repeatedly into her rectum.

"Was I not right, your Grace?" came another voice from behind Sylvie she recognized immediately as Father Philippe's. "Does her delicious asshole not taste and smell even sweeter and more enticing than that of a boy?"

"Oh Philippe, you spoke the truth a thousand times over," said the bishop, pausing for only a moment before burying his face once more between the cheeks of Sylvie's bottom.

"Will you attack her in the buttocks while I work my prick in her slippery cunt, your Grace? She is so petite we might lift her between us, you with your weapon in her bowels, mine in her womb. What delicious sensations that would give us!"

And Sylvie, knowing that there was no way the bishop would refuse such an enticing offer and that her hope of escaping was lost forever, began to sob softly even as she felt the knob of the bishop's mighty prick begin to push past the tight muscle of her anus and travel slowly up into her asshole. Moments later she was indeed suspended between the two lustful priests, one thrusting deep into her cunt while the other took his pleasure in her rectum. Able to do no more than climax helplessly in response to her ravishment, aware that as soon as both men had emptied their balls into her womb and bowels they would swap places, Sylvie resigned herself to her fate, deciding that she was, at least, doing her best to be of service to the church in her own humble way.

End.