The dim light of the oil lamp flickered across the heavy oak desk in the rectory office, casting long shadows over the worn Bible and scattered hymnals as Bishop Harlan's thick fingers traced the curve of Charlotte's slender neck. It was a humid evening in the small Alabama parish, the air thick with the scent of polished wood, beeswax candles, and the faint musk of sweat from the day's heat, and the young woman had come seeking guidance after the Sunday service, her rebellious streak evident in the way she lingered too long by the altar. At eighteen, Charlotte's body was ripe and full, her modest cotton dress clinging to the swell of her pert tits and the flare of her hips, her cheeks flushed as the older man's hand slid lower, brushing the side of her breast with deliberate slowness. "You must learn the true meaning of devotion, my child," Bishop Harlan murmured, his voice low and manipulative, his eyes dark with intent as he pulled her closer on the worn leather chair, his palm cupping the soft mound of her tit through the fabric, thumb circling the hardening nipple until she gasped.

Charlotte's breath hitched, her rebellious nature warring with her eagerness to please this authoritative figure who had taken her under his wing for private spiritual lessons. She shifted in his lap, feeling the hard press of his growing cock against her ass, the thick length throbbing insistently through his clerical robes as his fingers worked open the buttons of her dress with practiced ease. "Bishop, I... I want to understand the lessons better," she whispered, her voice trembling with desire, "private instruction, just between us, away from the others." His hand slipped inside, finding the warm flesh of her bare tit, squeezing the firm globe and pinching the pink nipple until it peaked painfully, sending jolts of heat straight to her untouched cunt. The wet sound of his lips on her neck filled the room as he sucked at her skin, leaving a mark, his other hand hiking up her skirt to stroke the inner thigh, fingers inching toward the damp heat of her panties.

The touch grew more intimate still, Bishop's experienced fingers pushing aside the thin cotton to delve into the slick folds of her virgin pussy, parting the puffy lips and finding the tight entrance slick with her arousal. Charlotte moaned softly, her hips rocking against his probing digit as he slid one thick finger inside her cunt, curling it to stroke the sensitive walls, the squelching wetness echoing obscenely in the quiet office. "That's it, feel the spirit fill you," he growled, adding a second finger and thrusting slowly, stretching her tight hole with deliberate pressure, his thumb rubbing circles over her swollen clit while his cock hardened fully against her ass, the head leaking precum that soaked through his garments. She reached back blindly, her small hand brushing the outline of his heavy balls and the rigid shaft, stroking it through the fabric as her pussy clenched around his invading fingers, juices coating his knuckles and dripping down her thighs.

Charlotte's request spilled out between ragged breaths, her body arching as the Bishop's fingers pumped deeper into her dripping cunt, scissoring to open her further while he whispered filthy encouragements about submitting to his guidance. "Private sessions, Bishop, please—teach me everything in secret," she begged, her rebellious eyes meeting his with eager submission, her free hand now fumbling to free his cock from its confines, wrapping around the veined length and feeling it pulse hot and heavy in her palm. He groaned, hips bucking slightly to fuck her fist as he added a third finger to her stretched pussy, the fullness making her whimper and grind down, her juices flowing freely over his hand in sticky trails. The rhythm intensified, his thumb pressing harder on her clit while he described in crude detail how her tight cunt would one day milk his cock, the wet sounds of her fingering mixing with her soft cries and the creak of the chair beneath them.

Bishop's agreement came with a low chuckle, his free hand guiding her strokes on his throbbing dick, precum beading at the tip and smearing across her fingers as he thrust them in tandem with his fingers buried knuckle-deep in her sopping hole. "Yes, my dear, secret lessons just for you—starting now," he rasped, his breath hot against her ear as he worked her cunt faster, the angle hitting that spongy spot inside that made her legs shake and her tits bounce with each thrust. Charlotte's orgasm built slowly, her walls fluttering around his digits, coating them in more slick as she pumped his cock with increasing fervor, the head swelling and leaking steadily onto her thigh. The room filled with the raw scent of sex, sweat glistening on their skin, her moans growing louder as he praised her responsiveness, promising deeper instruction in their hidden meetings where touches would explore every inch of her willing body.

His fingers withdrew only to plunge back in with renewed force, the Bishop's manipulative gaze locking on her flushed face as Charlotte nodded her eager consent to the arrangement, her hand tightening around his balls and shaft in a rhythm that matched the pounding in her core. The intimacy deepened further with every stroke, her pussy clenching greedily, wetness trailing down to soak his robes while his cock twitched in her grip, both lost in the building heat of their forbidden lesson.

Her fingers tightened instinctively around the thick shaft, stroking from base to crown in long, deliberate pulls that smeared the steady flow of precum along his length, making the veined flesh slick and shiny under the lamplight. Bishop Harlan's breath grew ragged against her ear as he pumped his three fingers deeper into her drenched cunt, twisting them with each thrust so the knuckles stretched her virgin hole wider, the wet squelch of her juices filling the office with every plunge. Charlotte's thighs trembled around his wrist, her clit throbbing under the relentless rub of his thumb, her hips rolling back to grind her ass harder against the hot bulge of his balls. "That's my good girl, Charlotte," he rasped, voice thick with lust, "your tight little pussy is sucking my fingers so nicely, just like it will my cock one day." She whimpered at the filthy promise, her own hand working faster along his dick, thumb swirling over the leaking slit while her other hand cupped and squeezed his heavy sac, feeling them draw up tight with need.

The Bishop's free hand tugged her dress further open, exposing both pert tits to the warm air, the nipples stiff and aching as he pinched and rolled them between callused fingers, sending fresh sparks of heat straight to her core. Charlotte arched in his lap, her rebellious streak melting into pure eagerness as she begged for more in broken whispers, "Deeper, Bishop, teach me more—make it feel so good like this always." His fingers curled sharply inside her sopping cunt, pressing relentlessly against that spongy spot that made her vision blur, fresh cream coating his palm and dripping in sticky strings down to his robes. She pumped his cock with both hands now, the fat head bumping against her wrist on each upward stroke, precum spurting in thin ropes that painted her skin and the front of her skirt. The scent of her arousal mixed with the musk of his sweat and the sharp tang of his leaking dick, the chair creaking under their shifting weight as he finger-fucked her faster, the rhythm turning rough and possessive.

Charlotte's moans grew louder, echoing off the oak-paneled walls, her virgin walls fluttering and clenching greedily around the invading digits as another gush of wetness spilled out, soaking his hand to the wrist and trailing down her spread thighs in glistening trails. Bishop Harlan chuckled darkly, grinding his rigid cock up into her stroking fists while he whispered crude encouragements, describing how her cunt would soon stretch around his full length, how her juices would coat his balls as he pounded into her. Her body responded with helpless spasms, tits bouncing with each thrust of his fingers, the swollen lips of her pussy clinging and sucking at his knuckles as he scissored them wider, preparing her for what he promised would come in their secret meetings. She rocked harder, chasing the building pressure in her core, her grip on his shaft turning almost frantic, the wet slap of flesh on flesh joining her cries and the Bishop's low groans.

He shifted beneath her, angling his fingers to thrust upward with more force, the tips battering that sensitive bundle of nerves inside her until her legs shook uncontrollably and fresh cream poured from her stretched hole. Charlotte's head fell back against his shoulder, eyes glassy with pleasure as she stroked him in time with his pumping hand, feeling his cock throb and swell in her palms, the head flaring and spitting more precum across her fingers. "Yes, just like that, milk it for me," he growled, his thumb grinding hard circles over her clit, the sensitive nub swollen and slick, sending jolts through her entire body. Her pussy clenched tighter, the rhythmic pulses drawing his fingers even deeper as her orgasm hovered just out of reach, every nerve alight with the raw intensity of his touch. The Bishop's other hand slid down to spread her folds wider, exposing her completely to his gaze and allowing his fingers to sink impossibly further, the obscene stretch making her sob with need.

Sweat beaded on Charlotte's skin, trickling between her bouncing tits as she writhed in his lap, her hand twisting and squeezing along his heavy cock with desperate rhythm, the thick veins pulsing under her touch. Bishop Harlan's hips bucked up to meet her strokes, his balls slapping lightly against her ass with each movement while his fingers maintained their relentless assault on her dripping cunt, the wet sounds growing louder and more obscene. She felt herself opening further for him, her juices flowing freely, coating everything in a sticky sheen that filled the humid room with the heady aroma of sex. The Bishop leaned down to suck at her neck again, teeth grazing the mark he'd already left, his voice a low rumble of approval as he praised her responsiveness and promised even more intimate lessons in the days ahead. Charlotte nodded frantically, her body surrendering completely to the forbidden pleasure, her fist pumping his throbbing dick with increasing urgency as they both chased the peak together in the shadowed office.

The Bishop's thick fingers kept plunging relentlessly into Charlotte's sopping cunt, twisting and scissoring to force her tight walls even wider as her fist pumped his veined cock with desperate urgency, precum spurting hot and sticky over her knuckles with every upward stroke. Sweat trickled down her heaving tits, her nipples aching from his earlier pinches, while her juices coated his wrist in glistening trails that dripped onto the leather chair with obscene wet plops. "That's it, milk my fingers like the eager little whore you are," he growled, thumb grinding harder circles over her swollen clit until her legs shook and fresh cream gushed out around his knuckles. Charlotte whimpered and nodded, her rebellious streak long forgotten as she squeezed his heavy balls, feeling them tighten while his cock swelled thicker in her grip, the fat head flaring and spitting more slick precum across her thigh.

The room reeked of their mingled arousal, her soft cries mixing with the squelching thrusts and the creak of the chair as he finger-fucked her faster, angling to batter that sensitive spot deep inside her virgin hole until she was sobbing with need. Her hand worked his shaft in long, twisting pulls, smearing the steady flow of precum from base to crown, the thick veins pulsing hot against her palm as his hips bucked up to fuck her fist. Bishop Harlan didn't even look up, becoming bolder now as he leaned in to suck another mark on her neck, his free hand sliding up to brush lightly over the tips of her breasts, seeing her hands clench tighter on his robes, letting him have his way with her completely.

Charlotte's orgasm crashed over her in pulsing waves, her cunt clamping down hard around his three fingers, sucking them deeper as creamy juices flooded out to soak his robes and trail down her spread thighs in sticky strings. She stroked him faster through it, her thumb swirling over the leaking slit until his cock jerked violently in her grip, thick ropes of cum erupting across her fingers and splattering her exposed tits in hot, messy spurts. The Bishop groaned his approval, pumping his fingers through her clenching spasms to draw out every last shudder, whispering crude promises of even filthier secret lessons where he'd stretch her cunt properly on his full length.

Yet even as Charlotte trembled in the aftermath, her body slick with sweat and cum, the Bishop's attention shifted with a dark chuckle, mentioning how her 19-year-old sister Sally had also caught his eye for private instruction. Father John hadn’t even said hello to Sally when he found her lingering after service, pulling her along the corridor again, Sally knowing that they were going back into the basement again. She shuddered when she saw the cross. It was huge, standing over eight feet high, four feet wide, made out of heavy wood. It was a little strange for a cross, it looked like it was upside down, the cross piece lower down the upright, not near the top like a normal cross. At least the altar was gone, but she feared the cross, not sure what it would be used for, but scared that her body would somehow be secured to it. Father John seemed to enjoy that, stripping her and tying her up, leaving her body open to whatever he desired to do to her.

“You look very lovely, Sally. Are you going to be a good girl today?” He moved towards her, grabbing one of her hands and moving it to his crotch. “See, you have already made my sword hard. Rub it for the Lord.” Father John has taught Sally how to obey and to serve the Lord. There are many ways to serve the Lord and pleasing your priest or bishop is very important. Are you mature enough to celebrate before God? Sally's fingers wrapped obediently around his thickening cock, stroking the rigid length as he pressed closer, her bare body already bound spread-eagle to the inverted cross with rough ropes biting into her wrists and ankles, leaving her pussy exposed and vulnerable to his probing hands.

He thrust two thick fingers into her tight cunt without warning, pumping them deep while she gasped and worked his dick faster, the wet sounds of her arousal echoing in the dim basement as her juices coated his knuckles and dripped to the floor. Father John groaned, grinding his balls against her bound thigh as he added a third finger, stretching her hole wider with deliberate force, his thumb rubbing her clit in rough circles that made her hips buck helplessly against the wood. Sally moaned louder, her tits heaving as he leaned in to suck one nipple hard, biting down just enough to send sparks straight to her core while his cock leaked steadily over her stroking fist, the head swelling purple and ready to claim her fully in their secret sessions.

The Bishop's thick fingers kept plunging relentlessly into Charlotte's sopping cunt, twisting and scissoring to force her tight walls even wider as her fist pumped his veined cock with desperate urgency, precum spurting hot and sticky over her knuckles with every upward stroke. Sweat trickled down her heaving tits, her nipples aching from his earlier pinches, while her juices coated his wrist in glistening trails that dripped onto the leather chair with obscene wet plops. "That's it, milk my fingers like the eager little whore you are," he growled, thumb grinding harder circles over her swollen clit until her legs shook and fresh cream gushed out around his knuckles. Charlotte whimpered and nodded, her rebellious streak long forgotten as she squeezed his heavy balls, feeling them tighten while his cock swelled thicker in her grip, the fat head flaring and spitting more slick precum across her thigh.

The room reeked of their mingled arousal, her soft cries mixing with the squelching thrusts and the creak of the chair as he finger-fucked her faster, angling to batter that sensitive spot deep inside her virgin hole until she was sobbing with need. Her hand worked his shaft in long, twisting pulls, smearing the steady flow of precum from base to crown, the thick veins pulsing hot against her palm as his hips bucked up to fuck her fist. Bishop Harlan didn't even look up, becoming bolder now as he leaned in to suck another mark on her neck, his free hand sliding up to brush lightly over the tips of her breasts, seeing her hands clench tighter on his robes, letting him have his way with her completely.

Charlotte's orgasm crashed over her in pulsing waves, her cunt clamping down hard around his three fingers, sucking them deeper as creamy juices flooded out to soak his robes and trail down her spread thighs in sticky strings. She stroked him faster through it, her thumb swirling over the leaking slit until his cock jerked violently in her grip, thick ropes of cum erupting across her fingers and splattering her exposed tits in hot, messy spurts. The Bishop groaned his approval, pumping his fingers through her clenching spasms to draw out every last shudder, whispering crude promises of even filthier secret lessons where he'd stretch her cunt properly on his full length.

Yet even as Charlotte trembled in the aftermath, her body slick with sweat and cum, the Bishop's attention shifted with a dark chuckle, mentioning how her 19-year-old sister Sally had also caught his eye for private instruction. Father John hadn’t even said hello to Sally when he found her lingering after service, pulling her along the corridor again, Sally knowing that they were going back into the basement again. She shuddered when she saw the cross. It was huge, standing over eight feet high, four feet wide, made out of heavy wood. It was a little strange for a cross, it looked like it was upside down, the cross piece lower down the upright, not near the top like a normal cross. At least the altar was gone, but she feared the cross, not sure what it would be used for, but scared that her body would somehow be secured to it. Father John seemed to enjoy that, stripping her and tying her up, leaving her body open to whatever he desired to do to her.

“You look very lovely, Sally. Are you going to be a good girl today?” He moved towards her, grabbing one of her hands and moving it to his crotch. “See, you have already made my sword hard. Rub it for the Lord.” Father John has taught Sally how to obey and to serve the Lord. There are many ways to serve the Lord and pleasing your priest or bishop is very important. Are you mature enough to celebrate before God? Sally's fingers wrapped obediently around his thickening cock, stroking the rigid length as he pressed closer, her bare body already bound spread-eagle to the inverted cross with rough ropes biting into her wrists and ankles, leaving her pussy exposed and vulnerable to his probing hands.

He thrust two thick fingers into her tight cunt without warning, pumping them deep while she gasped and worked his dick faster, the wet sounds of her arousal echoing in the dim basement as her juices coated his knuckles and dripped to the floor. Father John groaned, grinding his balls against her bound thigh as he added a third finger, stretching her hole wider with deliberate force, his thumb rubbing her clit in rough circles that made her hips buck helplessly against the wood. Sally moaned louder, her tits heaving as he leaned in to suck one nipple hard, biting down just enough to send sparks straight to her core while his cock leaked steadily over her stroking fist, the head swelling purple and ready to claim her fully in their secret sessions.

THE PRIEST TEACHES HIS FLOCK 9 – 10