Free Forbidden Reading by Lisette Ashton Page A

was strong. Within moments of him pressing his shaft against her, Justine felt the length plough into her rear. The muscle was forced open, she willed herself not to be won over by the delicious sensation of being violated. And she wouldn’t let her body willingly enjoy the penetration. She held her breath and bit her lower lip as the length pushed further inside.
    He was not as broadly built as the priest but he was thick enough to inflict a good deal of discomfort. Admittedly there was a wealth of pleasure flourishing from her anus. The sensations were so intense Justine quickly grew giddy from the effort of trying to fight off the threat of orgasm.
    ‘Bless this godforsaken creature,’ the bishop murmured.
    He was nestled so deep into her rear she could feel the cloth of his pants pressed against her buttocks. The inner muscles of her rectum bulged from the pressure of his shaft and she choked back the urge to cry out. The bishop’s porcine face loomed above hers, his eyelids heavy with bliss and his cheeks flushed with satisfaction. He made the sign of the cross as he spoke, droplets of sweat falling from his fingers like a spattering of Holy Water.
    When he began to pull back, sliding his length from her sphincter, Justine wanted to groan. The penetration was painful – his shaft was thicker than anything she had ever dared insert into that particular place – but the experience wasn’t just an exercise in discomfort. She chugged breath in an effort to control her responses, resenting the rush of bliss that wanted to erupt from her bowel.
    Behind the bishop, the priest continued to idle slowly up and down the empty aisle. He solemnly chanted his prayer and wafted his censer with the same majesty Justine suspected he would use in front of his congregation. The statues of Christ and the Madonna continued to frown down upon her, the bishop’s erection continued to plough in and out of her rear, and Justine couldn’t hide from the knowledge that she was desecrating something holy.
    The first tremor of an impending orgasm began to tremble through her bound body. The bishop rode her anus with a slow build of speed, his length thickening as the moment of his climax drew closer. The large head of his glans felt infuriatingly divine in her rear and she braced herself for the impact of his eruption.
    Her breath had fallen to a series of urgent grunts. Each animalistic cry echoed around the hollow acoustics of the church. Shivers of raw ecstasy made her tug aimlessly on the restraints and she savoured each fresh flourish of pain that was wrung from her ankles and wrists.
    And, as the bishop continued to thrust into her, the swelling of pleasure in her bowel grew too large to contain. She clenched her teeth and tried to resist the pull of the orgasm. But the excitement was too intense. The bishop slid easily in and out of her backside, his pace as obvious and urgent as her own growing need. She could feel his length throbbing and knew he was on the verge of a climax, and in that instant the combination of pleasure, pain and degradation proved too much.
    With a roar of satisfaction Justine allowed the climax to tear through her.
    The bishop held himself still as she shivered and bucked around his shaft. Her anus squeezed and convulsed – she knew her sphincter would have expelled his length if he hadn’t been holding himself so deep inside – and another blistering wave of delight scourged her rear. She was madly wondering how he was able to contain his own explosion when his ejaculation pulsed and the hot sticky seed of his climax spurted into her. The combination of warmth and his tremors fuelled another surge of delight and she shrieked as the despicable joy struck again and again.
    The fury of her orgasms left Justine’s cheeks flushed.
    Tears streamed from her eyes and she sobbed with a mixture of satisfaction, relief and guilt. Even as the bishop slipped his spent shaft from her anus – his wetness making her feel