Free Forbidden Reading by Lisette Ashton

faraway beams in the ceiling. The tang of something different on the air made her sniff and she realised a dusky incense was now perfuming the church. Raising her head, looking beyond her own body as the bishop pawed at her cleft and breasts, she saw the priest was walking toward her with a swinging censer at his hip.
    It was a horrible sight to behold: something she knew she shouldn’t have been seeing while she was naked and in the clutches of a black arousal. Guilt and self-loathing tormented her, all the time exacerbating her dark need for satisfaction. She started to lie back down and then noticed that, while he had been touching and stroking with one hand, the bishop had also been busy preparing Justine’s immediate surroundings. Votive candles, their soft flames guttering gently by her sides, stood precariously close to her bound body. She stared at the bishop with mounting panic and found no reassurance in his lascivious grin.
    ‘What are you prepared to sacrifice?’ he asked.
    As he spoke, his hand slipped against her sex. The fingers moved easily over her sodden cleft and then returned to the tight ring of her anus. She stiffened at his touch, despising the bristle of pleasure that struck her. When he pushed hard against her forbidden hole, forcing his finger to break past the barrier of muscle, she almost squealed.
    The priest continued to chant his Latin prayer, the words adding a mysticism and air of religious authority that Justine felt shamed to be desecrating. She lay on an altar, beneath sorrowful figures of the Madonna and child and a crucified Christ, while a bishop fingered her anus. All those acts that she had done before – drinking the priest’s semen from the communion chalice, fucking over the consecrated ground of the Dupont grave, and even tormenting the penitent young woman in the confessional – now seemed like harmless pranks compared to the ungodliness of what she was enduring.
    ‘You want me to initiate her?’ the bishop asked the priest.
    Justine raised her head so she could watch the exchange between the two men. The priest busied himself with his censer and his chant but he managed to nod consent in the bishop’s direction. She glanced at the piggy man looming over her and saw he had already released his erection from his pants.
    The sight made her feel dizzy.
    The length of pink flesh protruded from the dark trousers. The swollen end was a vicious purple and she could see the eye leaking a clear fluid of arousal. Her breathing quickened and fresh doubts returned as the bishop positioned himself between her legs. Unable to stop herself, Justine shook her head from side to side as though refusing him entry.
    ‘Don’t be such a prude,’ he growled. ‘I can see you want this.’
    She swallowed and wondered if the terms she had agreed with the priest would allow her to refuse the bishop. She suspected that any protest would qualify her as unfit to acquire La Coste but, still, a part of her was desperate to make her reservations known.
    He stood between her spread thighs, the back of one hand stroking absently against the smooth flesh. The contact was maddening: exciting her when she didn’t want to be aroused and making her resolve weaken. When he began to push his length closer, nudging the rounded end of his shaft nearer and nearer, she sighed with resignation and told herself she could tolerate whatever the pair planned. It was only when she felt the tip of the bishop’s erection touch the centre of her anus that all her doubts returned.
    She pulled away from him as far as her bondage would allow.
    A brief frowned crossed his face. It disappeared to be replaced by a twisted grin and he didn’t need to speak for Justine to understand he was going to take his pleasure from her suffering. Knowing she was in no position to refuse, Justine tried to remain calm and unaffected as he pushed into her forbidden hole.
    The ring of muscle resisted at first but the bishop’s determination