Chapter Text
The next time you go to confession, you don’t even make it into the booth before Father Agatha intercepts you, almost like she’s been waiting.
“Come back for more, angel?” She asks, sitting in a pew, facing the altar. You almost walked right by her without noticing.
You look around the rest of the church. There’s no one else in sight. She taps the spot on the bench next to her and you sit.
Just the close proximity makes your heart beat faster.
“What are you doing here?” You ask.
Father Agatha shrugs. “I like to sit in here when it’s empty and pray. Helps me connect with God, I can hear him better.”
You frown and try to quiet your thoughts and your breathing to see if you can hear anything. “What is God saying right now?” If you had looked closer, you would’ve seen the smirk on her lips as you played right into her trap before she reset her face.
“Nothing good,” she sighs heavily and your eyes widen in fear. “Do you remember the Annunciation?”
“Of course,” you answer with a nod. “When the angel Gabriel came down and told Mary that she was pregnant with Jesus because she had found favor with God.” You had strived to live a life as pure as Mary had, and thanks to Father Agatha, you feel like you’re on the right path.
She gives you a wry smile, her eyes still racked with seriousness. “And do you remember why God sent his only son down to us?”
“To save us from sin,” you say immediately. The most noble sacrifice anyone could make.
“And it worked for a while,” Father Agatha says sadly. “But now sin is running rampant again. However, God has an idea for how to stop it.”
Your mouth falls open a little. You had no idea it was getting that bad out in the world. You make it your mission to help the priest, no matter what it takes. “What does He need? What can we do?”
“Another vessel, for another child. A pure of heart maiden, just like Mary was,” she says, finally meeting your eyes. Your heart skips a beat.
“Me? Carry God’s child? But–”
She cuts you off. “Proverbs 3:5 says, ‘ Trust in the Lord with all your heart, and do not lean on your own understanding .’ I know it may be scary, angel, but I am here to help. I will shepherd the child unto you, if you so wish to help God in this way.”
You think for a moment, weighing your options. It has always been a dream to be a true steward of the Lord, and everyone has to do their part. You remember a verse from Psalms. “ The Lord is my strength and my shield; in him my heart trusts, and I am helped; my heart exults, and with my song I give thanks to him ,” you recite and Agatha smiles, very pleased.
She stands up, brushing past you and walking up the stairs to the altar. You follow her.
“How is this going to work?” You question. The Bible doesn’t go into specifics with Mary.
“Patience, angel,” Father Agatha says, pulling out the bread and wine of Christ for Communion and a rosary. “There are many things we will need to do in order to get you ready to take the child.”
She holds up the wafer and you bow, holding out your hands. She doesn’t move, just raises an eyebrow. You stand there for a second, dumbfounded.
“What are other ways you can take Communion?” She says, glancing down to the floor. A light clicks in your head and, for the third time in front of her, you drop to your knees.
This time, you open your mouth and stick out your tongue, and she places the bread on it, holding eye contact. Her gaze burns into you and you can’t help but feel that same heat you always do with her. Once you swallow, she presses the chalice of wine to your lips and you let her pour some down your throat.
The air is so charged around the two of you and you wonder if this is part of the ceremony.
“Stand up,” she orders and you shoot to your feet. She flips you around and lifts you up so you’re sitting on the altar and you gasp.
“I can’t be on this,” you protest but she shushes you.
“It’s okay, angel,” she says soothingly, hands coming to rub your thighs. Her touch feels good and it momentarily makes you forget about your qualms. “God will allow it since he knows the burden you’re about to bear. Now, do you remember that special toy I used on you last time?”
You nod, feeling the wetness in your underwear grow as you think back to that memory. The way it felt so big , the way it stretched you out, the way it felt when you orgasmed over it.
Father Agatha is wearing pants today, you notice for the first time, and she unzips them to pull something out.
Unlike the one from last time, which was purple, this one is skin colored and has two round things on the bottom. She squeezes the globes under the toy and a dribble of white liquid comes out from the tip.
“What is that?” You ask in awe. You wonder what it would taste like.
She swipes at the bead of moisture and holds it up so you can get a better look. “This is a different type of tool, one that can hold cum . ” She says the new word slowly so you can remember it. “This is what’s going to go inside your little pussy, this is what’s going to fill you up with the new child of Christ.”
For some reason, the thought of having the cum inside you makes you grow even hotter. “Okay,” you say earnestly. She chuckles at how ready you are.
“Not quite yet, angel. Remember how we had to work up to it last time? We will need to do the same. But don’t fret. I’ll make it just as enjoyable.”
She takes the rosary off the altar next to you and waits for you to hold out your arms. Instead of wrapping them around your hands the right way, she twists them around your wrists so you can’t move. A flare involuntarily courses through you at the thought of being bound.
“Now, be a good girl, and complete your rosary. For each mystery, you’ll get a reward,” she says with a wink, and pulls you closer to the edge of the altar. You watch what she’s doing with bated breath and she bends down so her face is just a breath away from your pussy.
She pushes up your skirt and slides your underwear to the side, and when her finger slides through your folds, you make the sign of the cross.
“I believe in God, the Father Almighty,” you begin with the Apostles’ creed. When you get to the Our Father, the memory of you saying this while her fingers were warming you up last time hits you like a train. She finds your clit easily and rubs it, your voice jumping up an octave.
You make it through that prayer and the three Hail Mary’s with little trouble while she continues just stroking up and down your pussy, feeling it get wetter under her fingertips.
The Glory Be and the Fatima prayer also come out smoothly as Father Agatha is only teasing.
You announce the first mystery, Annunciation, and you’re saying the Our Father again when she suddenly slides a finger into you, grinning at the way you gasp and tighten around it.
She pumps it in and out lazily while you stutter through the rest of the prayer and then she pulls out. You feel empty and she tugs you off the altar and spins you around so that your ribs are pressing into it and your elbows rest on top, hands still tied tightly together by the chain.
This time, she tugs your skirt and underwear off and the cool church air makes you shiver. She grabs your buttcheeks and you gasp.
“Did your parents spank you when you were a child?” She asks and for some reason, you feel yourself get even wetter at the promise her words hold.
You nod. “Yes,” you whisper.
“ Do not withhold discipline from a child; if you strike him with a rod, he will not die. If you strike him with a rod, you will save his soul from Sheol,” she quotes. “We need to make sure your body is completely cleansed. You have ten Hail Mary’s, so for each one, I’ll give you a spank.”
Your breath comes out in stutters and you feel like you’re about to pass out from overheating. The ache inside you is only getting worse.
“Hail Mary, full of grace, the lord is with thee. Blessed art thou among women, and blessed is the fruit of thy womb Jesus. Holy Mary, mother of God, pray for us sinners now and at the hour of our death, Amen.”
She slaps you before you even have the time to brace yourself.
The sound echoes throughout the empty church and you clasp your hands so hard that your knuckles turn white.
“Hail Mary, full of grace,” you say again, eyes rolling to look up at the ceiling like you’re talking straight to God.
Another spank. This time, your body rocks forward against the altar and it knocks the wind out of your lungs.
“Hail Mary…”
Spank .
“Hail Mary…”
Spank .
“Hail Mary…”
Spank .
“Hail Mary…”
Spank .
“Hail Mary…”
Spank .
You still have three more to go and you’re a mess.
The wetness between your legs has grown to a flood and is dripping down your legs. Your butt stings and the cold air works to soothe it, but every time you get a semblance of a relief, she hits you again.
“Hail…Mary…” You take your time on the eighth, dragging it out over a minute to give yourself some time to breathe and recover. She chuckles evilly, rubbing your butt.
Spank .
On the ninth time, it doesn’t even feel like you’re saying real words anymore and you can barely register the pain anymore.
Spank.
When you finally choke out the tenth one, she hits both of your cheeks as hard as she can at the same time and you groan loudly.
“Father Agatha,” you whimper and she soothes the aches with her palms.
“You did so well, angel, so perfect for me. I promise that you are completely purified now and ready for pleasure. But before we get to that, let’s say the Glory Be and the Fatima prayer together.”
She turns you around so you lock eyes with the priest and chant the two prayers and then you announce the second mystery, the Visitation, and start the Our Father. Father Agatha watches with a fond smile on your face and as you’re still speaking, she nudges your feet apart so your stance is wider.
When you begin the ten Hail Mary’s again, she reaches down and slides two fingers inside you with no resistance at all because of how wet you are.
You momentarily stop talking and the priest moans.
“You’re so wet and warm around me, angel,” she mumbles quietly and you wish your hands weren’t tied together so you could reach out and touch her.
You resume the prayer and she picks up her pace, twisting and curling, and your recitation is broken up with small gasps and whimpers. Instinctually, you raise your leg up and rest it around her and she chuckles.
It was clearly the right thing to do because her fingers can somehow get deeper inside you and your head falls back. You’re clenching tighter and you’re getting close as you keep spitting out the words, having been on the edge for awhile since her spanking.
“Ah ah,” she tuts, slowing down for a second. “You have four more. No orgasm until then.” You whine, pleading with your eyes, but she just smirks and raises a brow, waiting for you to continue.
You say the words so fast it sounds like you’re auctioning off your soul to the highest bidder.
And Father Agatha, of course, has won.
She finally strokes your clit when you finish the tenth and you spasm all over her two fingers, hands pulling so tightly against the rosary that you think you might have indents tomorrow.
She gently moves her fingers in and out while you finish up the second mystery with the Glory Be and the Fatima Prayer.
When you’re announcing the third mystery, the Birth of Our Lord, she sinks down to her knees in front of you and you forget to speak.
You shake your head, trying to figure out what she’s doing, when she lifts a leg up over her shoulder and leans close to your pussy to blow on it.
Your hips jump and you almost fall, and she helps you rest your back against the altar for balance.
“What are you doing?” You say in a hushed voice.
“Say the prayers,” she orders and sucks gentle kisses into your inner thighs. Her mouth on that extremely sensitive place makes you keen as you start to say the Our Father again. But when you begin on the Hail Mary’s, her tongue slides through your folds and it’s like nothing you’ve ever felt before.
A loud moan claws its way out of your throat and you manage to loosen the rosary around your wrists just enough so you can entangle your hands in her hair. You had no idea that someone could put their mouth on that part of you, but you want Father Agatha to stay there forever.
She stops and nips at your thigh as a warning to keep going. It is so hard to keep your mind from completely blanking on the words with her hot tongue swirling your clit the way it is, but you somehow manage to make it through four quickly.
You buck your hips without any sort of rhythm against her face, gasping out the words to the prayer. Her tongue dips into your pussy and strokes against your walls and you think you might die and ascend before God can put his baby in you.
Like the last time, it’s clear that she won’t let you orgasm unless you finish the mystery, so you speed through again, pretty sure you miss chunks of the prayer at a time.
Finally, you get to the tenth one, and when you’re almost done, she slides three fingers into you, curls them, and sucks on your clit roughly.
You orgasm, absolutely drenching her face and fingers again.
She moves your leg down and stands up, smearing her fingers across your face.
“How was that?” She asks, smirking.
“Oh my gosh, I didn’t even know something could feel that good,” you gush.
And then she grabs the toy and drags it through your folds and you second guess that when she circles your clit with the tip. She presses down lightly and the pressure makes you squirm.
“Are you ready for me to fill you up?”
Your heart leaps, but really, you’d do anything to have her inside you again. Two orgasms hasn’t been enough to satiate you and you want to know what it’s like for her cum to be inside you.
“Please, Father, fill me up.” The words sound dirty falling from your mouth but she just grins and flips you back around, putting you back into the same position as earlier.
“Fourth mystery,” she demands and your head falls forward onto your chained arms as she pushes the tip in. Even though you are wet and stretched out, there’s still a slight burn.
The Presentation. You announce it and say the Our Father while she ruts in and out of you, never going in further than the tip.
You start on the Hail Mary’s and it takes her the entire first one to slide the entire way in. Your voice sounds strangled as you keep talking and she slowly starts to grind into you.
When you get to the third one, she stops being gentle and begins roughly thrusting, your rips slamming against the altar again and again. She reaches a hand around to rub at your clit and you clench tightly on the toy.
Father Agatha starts saying things while you keep reciting your prayers and she’s just loud enough to hear over your words.
“Angel, you’re so perfect, stretched around my cock like this, can’t wait to fill you up, to breed you, watch my cum drip out of you, God you’re taking me so well, need to do this every day, can’t wait to breed you.”
You don’t really know what she means when she says she wants to breed you, but just based on the way she sounds when she says it, like it’s making her feel as hot as you do, makes you even more wet.
At this point, you don’t even know if you’re saying the right prayer but things just keep spilling out of your mouth and you go with it. You don’t know how many you’ve said or how many you have left, all you can think about is Father Agatha.
“You’re so close, angel, just one more and then I’ll make you into the next Virgin Mary with my cum,” she grunts into your ear and you gasp out the words.
“Amen,” you finally pant out, and you can feel her hand brush past you as she reaches down between her own legs, and the next thing you know, a warmth spreads through you. It triggers your own orgasm, feeling your walls being painted with her cum, and she gently thrusts in and out while you seize around her. “Did it work?” You ask weakly.
Father Agatha strokes your hair as she says the Glory Be and the Fatima prayer herself. You realize that you forgot to say those after your second orgasm, but you can’t find it in you to care. Since you’re carrying God’s child, you don’t think He will either.
“I’m going to stay inside you like this to keep the cum in while you say the fifth mystery. It’s called cockwarming. This way, we can try to let it take hold.”
You nod and begin on the Finding in the Temple. Since she isn’t moving, you aren’t constantly distracted and you’re able to get through the Hail Mary’s without too much of a hassle, although the feeling of being full still is forefront on your mind.
When you finish the rosary, she pulls out, turns you to face her, and you gasp at the feeling of her cum oozing out of you.
“But, it was supposed to stay inside me!” You cry, watching in horror as it leaks out and down your legs.
Father Agatha frowns and collects it with her fingers. “Something must have gone wrong,” she says and then looks up to meet your eyes. “Guess we’ll just have to try again.”