Mom broke the kiss. “Mmm, you did good, Jason. You raised some fine sons.”
“Thanks, Mom,” I said. My son with Donna’s mother had already knocked her up. She was so happy, and my sons with Mrs. Best, Mrs. Donovan, and Mrs. Shaver, my old college president, all were pleasing their mothers.
I held my mom to my side, this new world, changed by that belt that I still had in my dresser, such a wild place. We were all under its spell, changed into this new direction. I had no idea how or why this had all happened. I never would know.
But that was okay. I had my growing family. My mother, my wife, and our sons. What more did a mama’s boy like me need?
* * *
The Figure found that a fun world to watch. It had lost track of the decades seeing just how much the world had changed.
It liked it when worlds changed. When mortals acted weird. And there was an infinite number of worlds out there for it to meddle in. The next belt buckle had long been completed. Now it was eager to see what would happen. A new scenario for its pleasure.
The Figure stroked the black belt with the silver belt buckle that read, “Best Teacher.” Rising, the Figure headed to the Mist to find a new world to play with.
**********************
NEW STORY TITLE: CATHEDERAL OF SIN (EROTICA SERIES)
A priest bimbofies a nagging nun into a wanton slut!
Enjoy…
***
Father Patrick Mallory
I sat in the confessional waiting for the next parishioner to enter, my mind drifting back to those events a month ago in my previous church. It had been the most surreal and sinful thing I had ever experienced in my life. I had come out to find a man, his wife, and his daughter fucking in the pews. Just right there in the church as if that was nothing.
It was obscene.
Then Petra Guadeloupe, a good girl and part of a very faithful family, had burst out of the confessional where she had just been fucking the other priest, Father Ramirez, and had flung herself at me. She had pounced on me and… and…
Broken my vow of celibacy.
She had gotten my cock out and plunged her pussy down my dick. She had ridden me in the church, babbling about being a bimbo. She sounded like a complete airhead. Not the girl I remembered at all. She had been changed.
Bimbo… That word. I couldn’t get it out of my mind.
Bimbo…
I could still see Petra’s empty-headed expression of joy as she bounced on me, her round and golden-brown breasts heaving over me as that hot and tight pussy worked up and down me. The pleasure had been exquisite. I lost all control and… and…
I was getting hard again thinking about it. Bimbo… Bimbo…
After that, Father Ramirez was lost to the harlot’s charms. He let Petra whore herself out in the confessional booth at St. Michael’s. It was why I had transferred to a new parish. Now I worked at the Church of Mary Magdalene on the other side of the country. It was an old stone church with a private college behind it that the parish ran. Four nuns took care of the church and the school, administering both.
The door to the other side of the confessional booth opened. Through the divider full of small holes, I could see her. I recognized her as Mrs. Desideria Teixeira, a Brazilian-born teacher at the private college. A good woman. Her husband also taught there. She was a math teacher and he taught Latin and English.
“Bless me Father for I have sinned,” she said after settling down. “It’s been three days since my last confession.”
“The Lord bless you, child, what are your sins,” I said by rote as I sat her, my cock so hard in my pants. I adjusted myself carefully.
“I… I don’t know how this happened, Father,” she whispered, “but…”
“If you wish to find the Lord’s forgiveness, you must repent, child,” I said calmly. I didn’t put any judgment in my voice. That wasn’t my place. It was the Lord to judge. I was just here to coax the sin from my parishioner and help them repent.
“I have been having… relationship with a man who’s not my husband,” she croaked.
Harlot. That word stabbed through my mind. “I see.”
“It’s not even really man, not really,” she continued. “It’s one of my students at the private college. He’s eighteen,” she added hastily. “I… I know it’s wrong, I just can’t bring myself to stop, Father. He’s… he’s so young and handsome.”
Anger boiled through me. It always did when I heard women confessing about their affairs. They present themselves as these loving family women, devoted to their husbands and children, then they confess how they cheat. Harlots. Whores. Sluts. They made a vow, dedicating themselves to one man, and they broke it.
Broke it when the first bimbo tart comes along!
Bimbo… That damned word. It echoed in my mind as I listened to her pathetic protests. She just wanted to indulge in her carnal lusts like Father Ramirez. She wanted to be like Petra, fucking every man she could for money.
“If you wish the Lord’s forgiveness, you must put a stop to the affair,” I told her.
“I want to, Father,” she said, her voice broken. “I do. I love my husband, I’m just weak.”
“Then ask the Lord for strength,” I told her. “A dozen Hail Marys and the rosary, my child.”
“Yes, Father,” she said and rose. I knew she wouldn’t, though. I had seen this before. She would be back next week, tearfully confessing how she slipped up again. How she couldn’t resist one more romp with the young stud. And even if she ended the affair, once a cheating whore, always a cheating whore.
There would be another man. Another student.
Bimbo… Damned word. It pulled at me. There was something about it. Something about that man and his wife and daughter. About how he controlled Petra. My cock was so hard. Throbbing. I wanted to touch it. To stroke it. To give in to the sin of self-pleasure.
I ripped out my phone and did a Google search for “bimbo.” There was something there. Something that had changed Petra from that good girl into an abject whore. No one changed that fast. Something had been done to her.
The top result was… the Bimbo App. A download link that promised to… make women into bimbos. Into whores. I stared at the description, my blood running cold. This was what had turned Petra into that little whore.
Flashes of her tight pussy working up and down my cock shot through me. I swallowed, my heart racing. I had to get out of this booth. It was too private. I could just pull my cock out and no one would know. Other priests had done it. I had heard stories.
I opened the door and stepped out, staring at my phone.
“You shouldn’t have your phone out, Father,” Sister Bethany Anne said as she walked by. She was one of the nuns, wearing the full black, shapeless habit belted around her waist with the white wimple wrapped around her face, covering her hair and neck. The black veil draped over it and her shoulders. She sniffed at me. She was young but had a squat face and a waspish, ugly expression. “Keep your mind on the Lord, Father.”
I nodded and glanced at Mrs. Teixeira praying before the altar. She wore a brown, leather skirt and a gray blouse. It was conservative, and yet there was something sensual about the married, Brazilian woman.
I closed my phone and shoved it into my pocket. I had to forget about what happened.
* * *
Bimbo…
I lay on my bed in the small cottage that lay on the grounds for the caretaking priest-me-to live in. It was a tiny place, a bedroom with a narrow bed, a small office where I could write my homilies and work on my outreach ministries, and a kitchen-living room area. I stared up at the ceiling, unable to sleep. A storm raged outside, the wind howling by the door.
My cock was so hard.
I wanted to masturbate to Petra riding my cock. My phone lay charging on my nightstand. Just within reach. That app was there. That link to download and… and… I could just install it. Make bimbos here. Have them satiate my cock.
Make whores into bimbos. Mrs. Teixeira into a bimbo…
Lord, give me the strength to resist, I prayed and glanced at my phone. Lightning flashed, illuminating the black screen. Smartphones were black mirrors that reflected the best and worse of humanity. It was all in there. I just had to reach out. Please, Lord.
I rolled over onto my side, closing my eyes, my cock so hard.
* * *
I was groggy the next day. I was taking off the robes I wore. I had just given a morning mass. It was a weekday one, so not many people were in attendance. I yawned as I stepped out of the small vestibule. I had to do confessions. I exited the hallway into the church proper and ran smack into Sister Bethany Anne.
The squat-faced nun said, “Father, what was that? You were yawning through morning mass and distracted. There was no energy! You are here to share the Lord’s will with His flock, and you are bumbling through it.”
I scowled at this young woman. She was barely twenty. Well, I was only twenty-five, but still. “Sorry, I didn’t sleep well.” I marched around her to the confessional booth, hoping she would drop it. “I have something weighing on my mind.”
“Then pray on it, Father, and do better,” she hissed as she dogged after me, yapping at me like a little ankle-biter. “Remember who you serve.”
“I remember,” I said, my hand slipping into my pocket and finding my phone. “I want to focus, but…” I stopped before the confessional and pulled out my phone. I turned on the screen and typed in my unlock code. The download link for the app was right there. I just had to…
I touched the link.
“On your phone again, Father.” The nun shook her head in contempt. “No wonder you are having problems getting sleep and doing your job properly. Put that away.”
Congratulations! The Bimbo App Faith Version has been installed.
Faith version? How did it know? Right, right, social media sites tracked everyone’s data. Google and Facebook probably sold my data to whoever used the app. I swallowed. I just had to click the icon. Just load it up.
“Are you listening to me, Father!” Sister Bethany Anne huffed, her face growing ugly. A red mottle spread across her face, a blotching flush that was deeply unattractive. “I am going to talk with the mother superior about you.”
Anger flashed through me. Like I needed a lecture from that wrinkled, leather-faced hag who had never known a moment of joy in her whole life. I tapped the app’s icon. The screen flashed pink as it loaded.
Welcome to the Bimbo App Faith Version. Bimbofy nuns to increase your Faith Level. Spend Faith Crystals to modify your flock. Faith Crystals are earned by your bimbo nuns and yourself. Experiment to find new ways to earn them. Remake your flock into your image.
“Don’t ignore me!” hissed the nun. “I will write letters to the archdiocese. I know there was some issue at your last church. Probably did something sinful, and the Church packed you off here to make you our problem. Well, I won’t let you… Why are you pointing your phone at me? Put that down!”