Joan of Snark Ch. 07

Joan bristled at his harsh words.

"Now Miss Hubert, how do I really know that you're sorry? Why on earth do you deserve forgiveness when you've done absolutely nothing to atone for what you've done?"

"Well Father, how can I prove to you that I'm sorry? What should I do?" she asked anxiously.

"Hmm..." Father Ben smiled slightly as he mulled over Joan's question. Joan could not deny how attracted she was to him. But in that moment, she found his smile to be more malevolent than it was charming. "I don't think it's so much about what you should do. I believe it's more a question about what I need to do to you."

Puzzled, Joan apprehensively inquired, "What do you mean, Father?"

Father Ben stood up and walked around the coffee table. Joan took a giant step back as the priest approached her.

"What are you doing, Father?" she asked in alarm.

"I'm doing what needs to be done," he replied as he reached out and grabbed her arm. He put his other hand on her upper back and began pushing her downwards.

Joan began to panic. "Father?"

"Don't resist. Just put your hands down on the coffee table." He began pushing harder, bending her over, forcing her into position with her bottom up in the air.

"But Father ..."

"That's it," he coaxed. "There we go, just like that."

"Father, what are you ..."

"Quiet!" he snapped.

Joan could not quite believe what was happening. Was Father Ben actually doing this to her? And was she actually letting him?

"You said that you were sorry. And now it's time for you to prove it. Pull up the back of your skirt," he ordered.

Joan heard the instruction. And she understood the words. But she did not move. She could not bring herself to comply.

"Did you not hear me, Miss Hubert?" He said, irritated. "I told you to pull up your skirt," he harshly commanded.

With shaking hands, Joan reached behind and grabbed the back of her skirt. She closed her eyes and cringed at what she was about to do. How could this be happening? This was not right, she thought to herself. But in that moment, all she wanted was to appease Father Ben so he would not become more angry. Taking in a deep breath, she pulled up the back of her skirt, revealing her plain white cotton underwear. She rested the bunched up fabric of her skirt on the small of her back and put her hands back down on the coffee table.

Father Ben stepped directly behind her. "Hm, I would have expected more adventurous panties from a girl like you," he remarked, making Joan blush.

He crouched down and placed his hands on her legs just below her groin. Joan flinched at the feel of him touching her skin. His hands felt cold. He pushed on her inner thighs, forcing her legs apart. Joan's blush intensified as she realized that his eyes were level with her crotch. And she could feel a large wet spot on her underwear.

Suddenly, she felt one of his hands on her, between her legs. He was feeling the gusset of her underwear. Joan's mouth opened wide, but no sound came out. As his fingers stroked the damp material of her undergarment, she could hear him snicker.

"Alright, take your panties off," he directed her.

Joan was stunned into silence.

"Miss Hubert, panties off," he repeated the order in a low gruff voice.

Fumbling, Joan slid her thumbs into the waistband of her underwear and pulled them down to her ankles. She put her palms back down on the wooden surface the coffee table.

My pussy, Joan thought to herself. He can now see my asshole and my pussy. Joan took in shallow shaky breaths as she attempted to make sense of the situation. She could feel the cool air in the room on the tender tissue of her sex.

Father Ben sighed in disapproval. "Take them off all the way," he clarified. "Take your panties off completely. And then hand them to me," he added.

Joan clumsily stepped out of her underwear, almost tripping and falling over in the process. She bent down even further, completely exposing her vulva and anus to the priest behind her. She grimaced in embarrassment as she felt her labia spread apart and her back orifice gape open. She stooped down and grabbed the white scrap of cotton. She knew that Father Ben was somewhere behind her. But she was not exactly sure were. She extended her right arm behind her, with her underwear clutched in her hand.

Father Ben tugged the small bit of clothing out of Joan's grasp. She put her hands back down, once again leaning over on the table. She could hear Father Ben behind her. He loudly inhaled. As he took in the exaggerated breath, Joan was struck by a horrible thought. He's not stiffing my panties, is he? The idea made her shudder with disgust and humiliation.

Joan's mind was racing. Why am I doing this, she wondered. Why don't I just leave? I could just run right by Father Ben and make a mad dash for the door. But she could not budge from where she stood, bent over the coffee table. She could not bring herself to disobey the stern priest.

What Father Ben did with her panties, she had no idea. The next thing she knew, she felt his hand stroking her left buttock. He slid his hand around and around in a circular motion on her olive skin. His palm was soft and cool. Joan shivered as she let out a quiet gasp. His hand then moved to her right cheek as he caressed the other half of her posterior. As his fingers trailed downward over her flesh, he rubbed the spot where her upper thigh met her buttocks. Joan jumped as she let out a surprised squeal.

Father Ben softly chuckled. "I'm sorry I have to do this to you, Joan," he said in a slightly gentler tone. "But I'm afraid that your words and your actions tonight have been unacceptable. And I cannot let such rude and insolent behavior go unpunished." His fingers stroked the skin covering her tailbone and then descended between her two globes. He rubbed the upper part of her crevice, above the entrance to her back door.

Joan felt as though she had accidentally stepped onto a runaway train. The train was picking up speed and there was nothing that she could do to stop it. She felt completely helpless and out of control as Father Ben touched her body. She needed to find some way to either stop or slow things down before the situation got completely out of hand.

"But Father, I've already apologized. I'm really REALLY sorry about how I spoke to you. And I'm very sorry for what I said about Lil. You don't have to do this. Please, just forgive me, Father," she pleaded.

"I wish it were that simple, Joan. Really, I do. But I'm afraid that I just can't let certain things go unpunished. Trust me, you'll feel much better after you atone."

"Father, isn't there another way that I could show you that I'm sorry?" she asked desperately.

"Probably," he said nonchalantly as he rubbed both of her cheeks at the same time. "I'm sure there are lots of different ways you could atone. But tonight, this is how you're going to pay for your bad behavior."

"But Father ..."

"Now Joan, there's no point in arguing."

His fingers dipped down between her thighs and lightly brushed against her labia. Joan flinched as she let out a startled yelp.

"There's no point in resisting," he told her. "The sooner I deliver your punishment, the sooner it'll be over with ... for now."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing you need to concern yourself with. But let's just say that I have a very long memory." His fingertip grazed her clit, making her jump. She felt the small sensitive organ filling with blood. Her entire vulva felt full and engorged as he traced his fingers between her folds of flesh.

Joan was confused. She did not understand why Father Ben - a priest - thought that it was appropriate to touch her in this way. And she did not understand why her body seemed to be liking it.

Of course Joan had been attracted to Father Ben when she first met him. But at that time, he had been kind, fun and flirtatious. However, now he seemed to be going out of his way to humiliate and scare her. And much to her alarm, her body was reacting with arousal. How could this be happening, she wondered in disbelief.

Joan decided to try one more time to appeal to Father Ben's compassion. "Father, please! I really and truly am sorry! Please Father!"

"Thank you for the apology. But trust me, Joan, you need to be punished. It's the only way you'll learn your lesson. Now let's not delay this any longer," he said, giving her an affectionate pat on her rump.

Joan could feel him remove his hand from her backside. She took in a deep breath as she braced herself. Was this actually happening? This could not be happening! Maybe it was just another bad dream. That had to be it! This was all simply a nightmare and soon it would be over and Joan would wake up.

But it was not over. And Joan did not wake up. Instead, Father Ben's large hand sailed swiftly through the air with a SWOOSH! It landed on her right cheek with a hard loud WHACK!

"AH!" Joan cried out in shock and pain as Father Ben's palm made contact with the skin of her bare bottom. However, she had no time to recover or catch her breath. He immediately pulled his hand back and delivered another stinging slap. This time to her left buttock. "OH!" she wailed in distress. "Please Father, I'm sorry!"

"Well, I'm sure you're sorry ... NOW!" the priest laughed as his handed landed once again on her right fleshy globe.

"UH!" Joan grunted as her eyes filled with tears. She could barely breath as his hand came down on the left side of her ass. "How ... how ... how ... many?" She could hardly get the words out.

"'How many?' How many what? Spanks?" he asked as he smacked both cheeks across her crack.

"Y...y...yes," she sniveled as tears rolled down her cheeks.

"Oh, I don't know," he said as he slapped her just above her left thigh. "What number seems fair to you, Miss Hubert?"

Joan did not think it was fair for her to receive any number of spanks. But of course she could not tell Father Ben that. So instead she said, "F...f...five."

"Five?" he snorted. "Well Miss Hubert, I'm afraid you're going to be getting more than five." And with that, Father Ben reached between her thighs. He brought his hand up and slapped her between her legs, right on her crotch.

Joan let out a high pitched scream as Father Ben heartily laughed.

"That's what you get for trying to get off easy," he reprimanded her as he went back to spanking her derriere. "If you were truly sorry, you'd be willing to bare the full brunt of your punishment."

Joan's arms began shaking as she tried to hold herself up. Her tears spilled down onto the coffee table. She stared down at the silver and grey rosary laying haphazardly across the table. She wondered when Father Ben would finally decide that she had had enough. The skin of her ass felt like it was on fire.

Unexpectedly, Father Ben ceased spanking her and instead went back to massaging Joan's buttocks. Her tenderized flesh was now hyper sensitive. Joan gasped as the priest caressed her inflamed skin.

"Does that feel good? Do you like that?" he asked as he dragged his fingertips over the surface of her bottom.

Joan was too embarrassed to reply, so she decided to remain quiet.

"What's wrong, Joan? Nothing to say? That's rather out of character for you, isn't it?" he observed. "Well, with your ass being as red as it is, you must be feeling something." He pinched her right cheek.

"Ah!" Joan squawked.

"But I know what you really like." Father Ben's fingers made their way, via the cleft of her rear, down to the moist opening between her thighs. He slipped his fingers directly into her wet passage. "Mm, I know you like that," he said as he slid his fingers in and out.

Joan closed her eyes and softly moaned.

"Yeah, that's what you like," he said huskily. He squatted down as he continued to pump his fingers in and out of her. "You're even more red between your legs than you are on your ass. But I think you're red down here for a different reason."

Joan inwardly shuddered. Why did Father Ben have to tell her all of his observations? Was he not already causing her enough mortification as it was?

"It's a good thing that I have you all warmed up and wet," he said, swirling a finger around in her sheath. "You're going to want to be wet for what's happening next."

Oh my god, Joan thought to herself. He's going to fuck me! He's going to actually fuck me! Can I stop him? Do I want to stop him?

However, Father Ben made no attempt to unbuckle his belt or unzip his pants. Instead, he grabbed the rosary off of the coffee table.

"Usually penitents use the rosary by saying Our Fathers and Hail Marys. But you're an atheist, so what would be the point of that? Instead, you're going make use of the rosary in a ... different way."

"Ah!" Joan blurted out. "Father, what the fuck are you doing?" she demanded to know as Father Ben began to insert the rosary into her moist entrance.

"Just relax, Miss Hubert. It'll be easier if you don't tense up." He relentlessly pushed the string of prayer beads into her with his first two fingers.

"But Father ..."

"Almost done. Don't move," he told her as more and more of the rosary disappeared up inside of her. Before long only the pendant and the crucifix were hanging out of Joan's sex. "There, perfect!" Father Ben declared.

Joan could not believe that a priest was capable of doing something so lecherous with such a sacred object. Of course Joan did not believe in any Catholic superstitions. But even she - an atheist - found Father Ben's actions to be horrendous and offensive. "Father, why are you doing this?"

"Well, why not? Are you ever going to forget this punishment?" he asked

"No," she replied miserably.

"Are you ever going to speak to me in a disrespectful tone again?" His voiced lowered by an octave or two.

"No," she fearfully answered.

"And are you ever going to insult Lil again?" he growled.

"No. I already told you that I was ..."

"Then I'd say this is a pretty good use of the rosary," he said, cutting her off. "Does your cunt feel nice and full?"

"What?" she asked in shocked confusion.

"You're a virgin so you should be quite tight. It shouldn't take much to fill up your pussy," he said matter-of-factly.

"Father please, take it ou... oh ... OH!" she sighed as Father Ben began stroking her clitoris from behind.

"Now I know you like that!" he said smugly as he lightly strummed her sensitive bud.

"Oh Father ..." She closed her eyes and dropped her head as his fingers swiped the head of her clit. "Oh Father!"

He rubbed the area of engorged tissue right above her little bud, just below her pubic mound. And then he placed a finger tip on her clitoral shaft. First he stroked up and down the left side of her clit. Then he massaged the right side.

"Father! Oh god, Father! Oh god!"

"That's right, feel all of the sensations. Just let yourself go." His voice was low and soothing.

Her clitoral hood was already retracted. He lightly blew on the exposed head of her tingling kernel. Joan shivered as she arched her back. Then, very gently, Father Ben started rubbing the glands of her pulsing clit with a feather light touch.

"Oh Father! Oh my god, FATHER!"

"You like that, Joan?"

"Uh!" she grunted

"Is that a 'yes?' Does this feel good?"

"Oh jesus, Father! I'm going to cum!"

"Really?" He began rubbing her faster.

"Yes! Oh Father!"

"You're really going to cum?"

"YEEEES!" she groaned. Father Ben's persistent fingers moved even more quickly.

"And do you think you deserve to cum, Joan?" he asked.

"What? Uh!"

"After you're behavior tonight. After the way you spoke to me. Do you really think you've earned yourself an orgasm?"

"I said that I was sorry! OH!"

Father Ben continued stroking Joan's clit with one hand. With his free hand, he grabbed onto the cross of the rosary and slowly began pulling it out of Joan's vagina.

"Father, I'm going to cum!" Joan cried.

Father Ben pulled his fingers away from Joan's clit.

"What?" Joan panted. "Don't stop!" she said breathlessly.

With a jerk of his wrist, Father Ben yanked the rosary out of Joan's sex, making Joan cry out at the sudden movement. It was not painful exactly. But it did startle her.

"You're cunt is so wet," Father Ben purred, fingering her now empty opening. He looked down at the rosary in his other hand. "Now that this is all good and lubed up, it can go where I really want to put it."

Joan could not quite understand at first what the priest meant. However, as she felt Father Ben's fingers at the entrance of her back passage, she realized what he wanted to do.

"No! Not back there! It was bad enough when you put it in ... in the other place. But it's not going in there!" Joan went to stand up.

Father Ben jumped up from his crouching position, dropping the rosary onto the floor. He grabbed Joan around her waist. The teenager struggled against the taller larger man. She tried to slap, punch and elbow him. But the young priest was too strong for her.

He took a hold of her forearms and dragged her over to the armchair.

"Stop it!" she screamed.

He sat down and yanked Joan, face down, across his lap. He used his right hand to keep her in place. Joan kicked her feet up in the air and pushed against his legs, but his right arm kept her firmly pinned down across his thighs.

With his left hand, he reached down to the floor where the rosary had fallen. He scooped up the string of grey beads.

"Now where was I?" he said as he flipped up the back of her skirt.

"No, Father! Please, no! NO ... OH!" she shrieked as he began to forcefully push the beads into her anus.

"You enjoyed having the rosary in your pussy. I don't see why you wouldn't enjoy having it in your asshole," Father Ben reasoned as he slid the little grey pebbles through her sphincter.

"I didn't enjoy having it in my pussy!" Joan countered.

"Really?" Father Ben slipped two of his large fingers into her slippery snatch. He pumped them in and out. Both of them could hear a distinctive squelching sound. "I'm afraid your pussy disagrees," Father Ben laughed.

He pushed the last antiphon bead into her rectum. Now only the crucifix was visible, hanging out of her backdoor. Father Ben gave Joan a firm nudge, practically pushing her off of his lap. Joan scrambled to get up and step away from the perverted priest. She reached behind her and felt under her skirt. Her shaky fingers felt the cross - the only part of the rosary that remained outside of her body. She tugged on it slightly. But she could not bring herself to yank the beads out. Her orifice was too tight and sensitive.

She glared at Father Ben with a red face, which was streaked with tears. "Take it out!" she demanded.

"Take what out?"

"The rosary," Joan spat back.

"Take it out from where?" he smirked.

Joan narrowed her eyes. "You know from where!"

Father Ben grinned at her. "Not just yet, Miss Hubert. I need you to do something first."

"What?" Joan hissed.

"I need you to finish your punishment. Turn around and face the wall."

Joan did as instructed and pivoted so that her back was to Father Ben. Father O'Connor's framed print of the Madonna and Child was right in front of her. In the picture Mary cradled the baby Jesus in her arms. As Joan looked at the idyllic depiction of purity and motherhood, the teenage virgin seemed to stare back at Joan with a serene smile. Joan could not help but note the ridiculous irony of the situation.

"Now lift up the back of your skirt," the priest instructed.

"No!" Joan defiantly replied.

"I guess a certain someone wants another spanking."

Joan grunted in disgust as she pulled up up the back of her garment.

"That's it, let me see those cherry red cheeks! Oh wow! I really did a number on that bottom of yours, didn't I!" said Father Ben, sounding rather impressed with himself.