Chapter 8-The Celebration of the Candles

Father John waited for Sally, his cock already hard at the thought of her tight body. It would soon be time to fuck her. He planned on taking her virginity today, not with his cock but a large dildo. It would be God’s will that she relinquish her virginity.

Sally dreaded going to see Father John again today, but there was no way she could get out of it. Her parents thought Father John was God, or at least Jesus, if not the next best thing for her. It was getting more difficult talking them out of bringing her sister Becky along for “lessons.” Becky even bugged her to come along, unsuspecting of what she would be forced to endure. She was younger and more impressionable and would surely do anything Father John ordered her, thinking that she was fulfilling her destiny to God. Sally suspected that God did not have much to do with it, it was all Father John’s desires, but her parents were too insistent that she submit.

Sally wore a pair of jeans and a wool button down shirt. Winter was almost here and it was beginning to get cold. She entered the church, going to the rectory in the back. Father John was waiting, sitting at his desk, just as she knew he would be.

“Good afternoon Sally. Are you ready to do the Lord’s will?”

“Afternoon, Father John. Yes, I’m here to do whatever is required of me. My parents are most insistent that I obey you and do the Lord’s work.”

“Good girl, let’s go into the other room. We are going to do something very special today.”

“The other room?” She was frightened by the ominous sound of his voice. It was bad enough in his office with his desk.

Father John moved next to her, putting his arm around her waist, “yes down here, Sally.” They moved down the hall to the last door and Father John opened it. There was a long staircase down to the basement. 

“That’s the basement Father!”

“Sssshhh, little girl. The Lord works in many places. This will be much quieter and we will not be disturbed.” He urged her down the stairs, Sally hesitating. The door closed behind them, only the light at the foot of the stairs flickering. It looked like candle light.

“I’m scared.” Sally trembled. They would be in the basement; even screams would not be heard. 

“Nothing to be scared of Sally. We are down here to celebrate the Lord today.”

“Celebrate?”

“Yes, today is the Celebration of the Candles. A very special day usually reserved only for the priests and nuns. We celebrate the important part that candles play in the religious ceremonies. You are lucky to be able to participate in the service. The Bishop has granted you special permission because of your active religious training and your outstanding progress.”

“The Bishop knows what we do?”

“I have told the Bishop how well you are responding to the intense religious training. In fact, you are invited to a weekend retreat with the Bishop and me.”

“A weekend? No, I don’t want to go,” she protested, not wanting to spend a whole weekend with him, even if they Bishop would also be there.

“Nonsense Sally. I have already talked to your mother and she has given her permission. She thinks it is an honor that the Bishop invited you and that he will be present. I could have your sister Becky instead, would you rather I do that? She is younger than you, isn’t she? I imagine that she would be easier to train in my ways, don’t you think? I’ll train her like I am training you, to serve the Lord and me as the vessel of the Lord.” He stopped on the stairs; his hand reaching up to her breast, lightly caressing the young flesh. “Though she is not as mature as you are,” making his point by gently squeezing. “Should I invite Becky instead?” His hand continued to rub her breast, making no excuse for the fondling of her flesh.

Sally stood there as Father John continued to rub her breasts. He was getting bolder each day she came, no longer making any pretense for molesting her body. She could imagine him doing this to Becky, rubbing her tiny mounds. “No! I’ll go, just leave Becky alone.”

He moved close, whispering to her, “you are making my sword hard again, Sally,” moving her hand down to the front of his trousers, making her small hand grab his hard cock. “You are going to have to take it in your mouth again today. You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Serving the Lord with your mouth. You are very good at it. You have found your calling in life, a way to serve the Lord.” Taunting her, forcing her to move her hand up and down on his cock, making it jerk beneath his trousers.

She regretted that she had done such a good job before, her mouth used as a receptacle for his sword, his demon seed spilled into her stomach. “I will serve you, Father John, in whatever way you want,” resigned to her place in life, hoping to protect her little sister by giving into his twisted desires.

He stopped fondling her breast and put his hand back on her waist directing her down the steps. 

Sally was pushed into a large room. In the center stood a large altar, a gleaming white wooden structure over six feet long and about three feet wide. She cringed when she saw the crosses, one in each corner, pushed into a hole in the altar, securing it tightly. It was just like the desk. It was covered with a black velvet cloth, golden crosses sewn into the edges that hung down the front. The altar was not as tall as the one in the church; this one stood about three feet high. She cringed at the thought of being spread open on it, but she knew that was Father John’s intention. She began to dread the Ceremony of the Candles. She saw a table behind the altar, a large selection of candles and candlestick holders on it. There must be over one hundred of all sizes and shapes. Some were already flickering; hot wax slowly sliding down the side of the candles.

“Please, not on there,” Sally whimpered.

“We must get you prepared first, Sally.” He grabbed her hand again and pressed it against his trousers. “Rub my sword, Sally, while I prepare you for the ceremony.” He moaned softly as her yielding hand grabbed his cock through his pants, encircling it, moving up and down the hard flesh. “Very good, Sally.”

“Prepared?”

His hands moved up to her wool shirt, fingers traveling over her breasts again. “You must wear the ceremonial robe.” Father John pointed to a white robe on a hanger. It was a simple garment, the zipper running from neck to bottom the only closure on it; it looked like it would hang just about to her knees. He reached for the first button of her shirt, his fat fingers too anxious, fumbling with it. “But you must shed your worldly possessions first.”

“You mean my clothes? You’re going to strip me naked?”

“Yes, Sally. The Lord wants you like you came into the world, naked and without sin.” His fingers continued to unbutton her shirt, feeling her tremble as he slowly stripped her. He pulled the shirt from her jeans, opened to expose the basic white bra encompassing her breasts. He reached down to her wrists, unbuttoning the buttons. He lowered the garment from her shoulders, letting it slide backwards and down her arms. She stopped stroking his cock as he shed the garment from her body. 

Her hands hung uselessly by her side, her shirt lying on the chair next to her. She felt his hands on her wrists again, pressing her palms against his sword.

“Rub it, don’t stop unless I tell you to! Use both hands.”

She stroked his sword again, feeling it jerk in his trousers as his hands moved up her naked flesh. She felt horribly violated as he took liberties with her young body. She suffered his large, clammy hands as they slid up and grasped her youthful breasts in his palms, encircling the bra-encased flesh, squeezing.