Priest (Priest, #1)

by Sierra Simone

I am a priest and this is my confession.

Woof

And before I could stop myself, I thought, I want my dick in that mouth. I want that mouth crying my name. I want⁠— I looked toward the front of the church, toward the crucifix. Help me, I prayed silently. Is this some sort of test?

Oh ok Father

“And what about an unbelievably hot priest? Is that a sound reason for exploring the Church?”

Yes

(her nickname for me was “Father What-a-Waste”)

and i agree

“Tonight,” I said. “After the men’s group. Come find me and we’ll work on it.”

Seems like she'll be praying on your dick

I made quick work of knotting the white rope around her wrists and hands, thinking of the prayer priests were supposed to say as they tied their cinctures. Gird me, O Lord, with the cincture of purity, and quench in my heart the fire of lust…

I---

“Please what?” I had to be sure. Because the things I wanted to do to this woman—Leviticus had not even come close to covering all the ways I wanted to defile her.

What does Leviticus say???

“Just listen,” I said, lowering myself between her legs. She shivered as the head of my cock pressed against her entrance. “This,” I said, and I pushed partly into her, barely able to breathe for how tight she was around me. “This is your body.” I leaned my head down and caught the delicate skin of her neck in my teeth. “This is your blood,” I whispered in her ear. I shoved all the way in, and she cried out as her back arched off the altar. “This is you,” I told her and the empty sanctuary. “This is you, given up for me.”

Did...did he just perform communion with her body?

She was smiling a lazy, sated smile, and then she said, “Amen.”

MAAM!?

I went into the sacristy and came out with a small rectangle of white cloth, a purificator. It was normally used to wipe the communion chalice after every sip of wine. Tonight, I used it to clean Poppy.

You would think my brain would be over the amount of sacrilege 50 ish percent into this book but no... I still read it and go uh!

You might think that having sex on my altar, using sacred things normally meant for rituals of the highest order, meant that I wasn’t taking my faith seriously, that I had slid straight past sin and into sacrilege, but that wasn’t the truth. Or it wasn’t the whole truth, at least. I couldn’t explain it, but it was like somehow it was all holy, the altar and the relic within and us on top of it. I knew that outside of this moment, there would be guilt.

I said what i said

Uneasiness knotted in my gut. Even though I knew it wasn’t possible, I couldn’t help but worry that somehow he was a result of Millie and Jordan knowing the truth, that he was here to finally tug on the thread that would unravel my life.

Its worse

“It’s not a fight,” I said. “It’s a person.” “It’s a woman, Father.” Sterling flashed me a white, wide grin. “Soon to be my woman.”

Fuck. Him.

now understood why Herod had offered Salome anything she’d wanted after she danced for him.

I---

I’d been wrong. She wasn’t Salome right now. She was Esther, using her body to save her kingdom—our kingdom of two. And how could I act out my primal need to claim her knowing that? Knowing how generous and brave she was?

These references are crazy

Why had I ever felt like the choice was between Poppy and God? It had never been that way, it had never been one or the other, because God dwelled in sex and marriage just as much as He dwelled in celibacy and service, and there could be just as much holiness in a life as a husband and a father as there was in a life as a priest. Was Aaron not married? King David? Saint Peter?

See!!!

This Mass would be the last Mass I ever said.

Good boy

I should have been furious in that moment. I should have been devastated.

Dont you worry i am all the things for you. Does this turn into a priests downward spiral into murder bc id fucking understand and be a character witness!

I wasn’t precisely sure what constellation of decisions had led to this, except the storm had grown stronger and there had been thunder, and all of a sudden my kitchen had felt so much like my parents’ garage, which was the first and only other place my life had crumbled into ash. Except Lizzy’s death had made me angry at God, and I wasn’t angry at God now. I was only desolate and alone because I had given up everything—my vows, my vocation, my mission in my sister’s name—and it had been repaid with the worst faithlessness, and you know what? I deserved it. If I was being punished, I had deserved it.

She did this to him!! This boom is so fucking mean and stupid!

really had caught Poppy and Sterling together yesterday. I really had fallen in love just to have the shit kicked out of me (by the very woman I’d wanted to marry).

I hate her

Is this what You want? I asked. For me to leave—not for Poppy, not for the bishop, but for me? For You?

Dont make this better i still hate her

The bartender came back with a thick white envelope. It had my name on it, Sharpied in hasty, thick strokes. When I took it, I knew immediately what it was, but I opened it anyway, more pain slashing through my gut as I pulled out Lizzy’s rosary and felt its weight in my hand.

Hate hate hate hateeeeeee

The end.

No ma'am