“On your hands and knees, little girl,” I command her in a stern tone.
She winces slightly as she pushes the chair away, then does as she’s told. She’s damn good at taking instructions online, but it feels more rewarding when I get to tell her what to do in person.
Especially since I’m not throwing money at her for it.
“Come,” I tell her evenly as I point to the spot in front of me. She crawls dutifully to the place I want her and when she stops, I reach down and caress the side of her face. It would be such a shame to mar something so beautiful, but I’m not above doing it if that’s what our spectators want.
Glancing around the room, I grin when my eyes land on the lone crucifix hanging on the wall behind her setup.
“Do not move,” I warn her, holding up a finger. She nods as her eyes follow mine, and I can see the earnest longing in her gaze.
Walking over to the wall, I pull down the icon and put some muscle into snapping the arms off before I go back to my sweet and sinister Sister Paloma Grace.
“Open your mouth.”
I slip the broken, ragged end of the crucifix down her throat. Her eyes bulge in protest, but she doesn’t make a move to push me away. Instead, she begins to bob her head up and down as she blows the fucking thing like a two-dollar crack whore and that will make it easier on her than me.
I pull it out of her mouth violently enough to chip one of her teeth, and when she whimpers, I chuckle.
I walk around her, making sure the camera is trained on us, head on. She still hasn’t figured out that I know we’re being watched—either that or she’s so out of her goddamn mind, she doesn’t care.
Placing a hand on her hip, I drop to my knees and slide my cock into her tight hole, a groan escaping me as I do. Pally wiggles her ass at me, hoping that I’ll start fucking her soon, and I will.
But first …
I spit on the broken crucifix, then begin to slip it into her asshole. She lets out an anguished cry, but we’re beyond that now. My pleasure is her pain and she’ll do as she’s told.
I settle the dull end against my stomach as I grip her other hip and slowly begin to push into her; my cock and the crucifix assaulting her holes at the same time.
She’s howling, whimpering, crying, and struggling to stay up on her hands and knees, but she doesn’t fight me, which is all that matters.
I slap her glorious, plump ass as I begin to fuck her harder, cramming the wooden icon further into her ass and laughing when I see the blood starting to pool and coat her perfectly, round cheeks.
“Come on, little girl,” I grunt at her as I slap her ass again.
Pally finally begins to fuck back, pushing as hard as she can while she continues her whimpering and crying. I can see her fingernails break as she digs them against the floor in an attempt to gain relief in a place where none is to be found.
“Harder,” she croaks out as she slams back against me, and I do what she wants. Not because she asked, but rather because it’s what I want too.
“Start rubbing that pussy for me, little girl,” I growl at her as my balls begin to tighten. She almost loses her ground as she reaches a hand beneath her. Her breathing is starting to hitch and her body is starting to shiver and shake.
Not like this,I think as I pull the icon out of her now bleeding asshole. I reach down beneath my cock, line up the crucifix, and then slide it into her. I can feel her fingers rubbing her clit wildly. I can feel her hole as it stretches wider and I dig my fingers into her hips.
I fuck her harder, without mercy, ignoring her anguished cries. She wanted a god to believe in, to save her from her mundane life, and instead, she found me.
And I’m the only god she’ll ever fucking need.
Chapter Fourteen
Reade
Paloma is layingon her back. After I filled her hole with my cum again, I decided to give her a little break.
She’s been staring at the ceiling, legs spread out, and sucking on the crucifix. She’s a good girl, cleaning up her own messes without being told, and as I sit on the floor in front of her staring at her bright red, bloodied holes, I wonder how much farther she’s willing to go.
She has a habit of babbling on her live shows about salvation and being unholy, the latter which she just proved to me.
“Pally?” I ask as I bring my knees up and let my arms rest against them.