Since Patreon won’t allow the first chapter of First Rites, I suspect more platforms will follow suit soon enough. For now, I’m posting it here. You can also find it on Ream (where they don’t censor content), Radish, and Vella. Eventually, I’ll publish the entire book and cross my fingers that it’ll pass the censors.
P.S. This is exactly why I’ve started selling direct HERE.
1
The Covenant
(Father Ronin)
I feel a building sense of excitement as Kathryn pushes open the door to the sacristy and comes toward me in her wedding attire. Her head is cast downward, her mannerisms demure, and a flush creeps along her throat: all signs she is a good girl. For the entirety of her life, her parents and the school would have educated her on The Covenant of the Flock, reminding her to remain pure and chaste for her future husband. Only the elders can decide who marries whom, and I am, of course, the head of the elders. If a family wants their son nominated for marriage, they must follow a set number of steps before approval, including a large monetary donation to Covenant Cathedral. Typically, the elders themselves are on the lookout for a blushing young ingenuous.
That means that more often than not, the groom is twice the age of the bride. We have an unfortunately high turnover rate in our community, with some families choosing to flee under the cover of darkness rather than marry off their daughter to an esteemed elder. There is a choice, naturally, and no one is punished for declining the arranged offer. They simply never marry, instead living at home and tending to their mothers’ families rather than their own.
Once a decision is made—about anything—there is no changing the minds of the elders.
For the time being, Kathryn is the lucky bride. Her gown shimmers as she moves forward, her steps light and tentative. The veil she’s chosen hangs down her back, cascading over her auburn curls. As her breathing changes, her breasts heave beneath the snug bodice, and I do not hesitate to watch the creamy rise and fall above the panels of delicate lace.
“Welcome, Kathryn.”
“Father Ronin,” she responds in a soft voice.
“Shall we begin?” The question is one of false courtesy; we will begin when I am ready.
The slightest tilt of her head is her only response.
“Good girl. Now, as we recall, the purpose of the purity test is to ensure all brides remain virgins until their wedding night. We all strive to present our best selves to God, including retaining our chastity, only giving such a treasured gift through holy matrimony.”
Kathryn nods, her skin still tinged pink.
“Together, we shall recite the covenant. Ready?”
At her second nod, we speak in unison:
“You shall perform your duties to The Flock first before all else.
You shall make sacrifices for The Flock.
You shall offer your services to The Flock.”
As the first section comes to a conclusion, I say, “The last covenant is for you to recite alone, my dear.”
Finally, she has to speak up. Her tremulous voice barely reaches my ears as she quotes, “You shall detach yourself from dark desires, obeying only The Flock.”
“Well done, lamb.”
Stepping closer, I trail a fingertip over the high mound of her bosom. Kathryn startles, stealing a glance at my face. Waiting patiently, I stand still as she regains her composure and turns her face down once again.
“Assuming you have remained a good girl, Kathryn…” Trailing off, I push the layers of satin and lace up so I can find what I’m after. “Then you have nothing to worry about.”
As I sink two fingers up inside her, she trembles and bites her lip. Unfortunately for both of us, she’s quite dry, but that doesn’t deter me. I meet the flimsy barrier proving she is, currently, a virgin, and remove my fingers.
Rather than step away from her harsh breaths and quaking limbs, I turn her to face the stoup and press the middle of her back until she has no choice but to brace her hands on the lip if she doesn’t want to end up face-first in the holy water.
“F-father Ronin?” she asks in a confused voice.
“Do not fret, my dear.” Even as I say the comforting words, I shove her dress far enough up that I have the perfect view of her round ass. Her undergarments are entirely too juvenile for her age, as though her great-grandmother picked them out for her.
So I pull them down until they pool at her ankles. With a stinging swat, I redden her left cheek, glorifying in the surprised squeak she lets out.
“Have you ever heard the term Jus primae noctis?”
But Kathryn has nothing to say to me. Nonetheless, I repeat my swat to the other cheek, realizing she has bit her lip to stop from crying out. Since my cock is rock hard at the sight of her, I pull it from its confines and tap it on her ass.
“It translates into right of the first night. In other words, my dearest harlot, you owe your virginity to me.”
Spreading her cheeks, I peer down at her puckered hole as it clenches, almost as though it can sense my gaze. Her legs shake as I spread them wider to get a good look at her pussy. Since she isn’t wet, I spit on her lips as she jerks in my grip. Tightening my fingers on her hips, I run the head of my cock through the dribble and slide easily inside her tight cunt.
She cries out as I invade her body, her hands tightening around the edge of the stoup’s bowl. My groan echoes in the small, dark room, and I take a moment to force my eagerness down a notch. Then, with hurried strokes, I plunge in and out of her body, feeling the way her walls spasm and eventually loosen.
“See, you filthy harlot? Your body knows what it wants. Now you’re wet for me and me alone.”
With another few thrusts, I find I can’t hold back. Kathryn’s pussy is too tempting, too sweet and hot. There’s no way for me to resist coming, so I tighten against her, allowing my cum to fill her tender young cunt.
As I step back, catching my breath, she remains locked in place. Tugging her dress down until it covers her properly, I grab her shoulder and spin her back around. Her head wobbles, as though she simply can’t hold the weight of it up any longer.
I grip her chin, forcing her to look me in the eyes. “Who will you speak to about this?”
Her tongue comes out to moisten her lips. “No one,” she whispers.
“That’s right, little lamb. Because if you did, your husband would cast you aside as a lying whore.”
Tears form on her lower lashes.
“And I will attest to the fact that you are no longer a virgin. You will have to leave the flock in shame for breaking the highest covenant.”
Something flashes in her eyes, so I tighten my fingers. She whimpers, and I stare her down until she relents, her lids dropping over her gaze until she no longer sees me.
“Now, go. Walk down the aisle toward me and your betrothed, knowing it’s my cum dripping out of that pussy and down your thighs. Go with the knowledge that you smell of me; of sex.”
Lastly, I yank on her veil until it covers her face, then shove her until she reaches the door. Grasping the hem of her gown, she flees from my presence.
Only minutes later, she comes down the aisle toward me and her betrothed, and I revel in the flush on her cheeks. Even from this distance, I know how she smells.
She smells like me.
Like my cum slipping down her thighs as she takes tentative steps forward. Like the combined juices of me and her; of humiliation radiating off her in waves.
Finally, she has to look up when she reaches the altar and her soon-to-be-husband. Catching her gaze, I stare steadily until she lowers her head once more. Taking her fiancé’s hand, she stands silent and still until she has to recite her vows.
Once the ceremony is complete, only then do I have the chance to rush to the back, falling to my knees in front of the sacristy cabinet. I have sinned, and there is only one way to atone. Making the sign of the cross over my chest, I recite my prayers:
“Glorious God, I wish to confess my sins. I was tempted by the flesh of another. Clear my soul of darkness, deliver me from evil. Show me mercy so I may feel your divine power anew. Purge me of sin; unburden me of this pain so I may be your loyal servant once again.”
Satisfied with the day’s proceedings, I dip my fingertips in the holy water and exit the church, already anticipating the next wedding.
