Pounded From the Rear By My Preacher, My DADDY (daddy-daughter incest, family erotica, anal sex, virgin, deflowering, church se

di

Deborah Cockram

Deborah Cockram

Pounded From the Rear By My Preacher,  My DADDY (daddy-daughter incest, family erotica, anal sex, virgin, deflowering, church se - Bookrepublic

Pounded From the Rear By My Preacher, My DADDY (daddy-daughter incest, family erotica, anal sex, virgin, deflowering, church se

di

Deborah Cockram

Deborah Cockram

FORMATO

Social DRM

DISPOSITIVI SUPPORTATI

computer

e-reader/kobo

ios

android

kindle

€ 2,99

Descrizione

The preacher made Faith crawl to the prayer bench, where she would be subject to his special form of penance. She had sinned – having sex with a man, in the church of all places.
That could not be tolerated, so the man she knew as Pastor – the man she also knew as DADDY – decided he would teach her a harsh lesson.
If she wanted to know what it was to violate the laws of God, DADDY would teach her the most lustful, wicked forms of violation, beyond anything she imagined, making his little Faith feel sensations she never knew existed….and since she'd had relations already, Daddy would find another virginal little entry where his daughter was still a virgin…unspoiled…pure…
Here's an excerpt:
I had had sex with Matthew, we had made love, and I was content to let my friends joke around about me touching his face, letting them think that's all it was. He went out with the others, but I stayed behind, said I had to go to the restroom, but in reality I wanted time to myself, time to be alone, to revel in what we'd done.
That's when it happened. The door, the one that leads directly to the baptismal, opened.
Daddy.                                                                                                         
"Wh…wh…" I couldn't say anything, couldn’t think of what to say, to ask, afraid of what I'd learn if I did ask Daddy anything.
"I was cleaning the baptismal when I heard you two come in," he said, his voice slow, deep, grave.
I felt my face growing hot, my stomach tightening, and for a moment I thought I was going to be sick.
"Here, of all places, you defile your body in the church?"
I bowed my head, staring at the floor, tears spilling from my eyes.
"Knees," he said. "On your knees."
The word stung, worse than if he'd slapped me. For all of my years my Daddy had the ability to cut right to my soul with his words, though he rarely did. He had always been a loving Dad, building me up with his words rather than tearing me down.
Now, I heard the disappointment in his tone, the hurt in his words.
I felt down to my knees, hard, the sudden pain flaring through me. I didn't care.
"Crawl to the prayer bench," he said.
We have prayer benches along the front of the sanctuary, all along the floor where people going forward during a service can kneel, placing their arms on the top bar of the prayer bench. We have one or two of them in each choir room.
I started to stand and walk to the bench when Daddy's hand came slapping down on my shoulder, forcing me back to the floor.
"You crawl," he said.
I stayed there, on my knees, tears slipping down my face, for what seemed like forever, and he stood there, looking down on me, his gaze never drifting, expression never changing. So I went down on my hands and knees and crawled over to the prayer bench, climbing up on it with me knees on the little padded bar along the bottom, laying over the top bar with my upper body.
Without warning he was on me, Daddy. He grabbed my shorts and yanked them down.
"Daddy!' I screamed.
"You want to defile this place, defile your body? I'll teach you about defilement."

Dettagli

Categorie

Dimensioni del file

1,8 MB

Lingua

eng

Anno

2017

Isbn

9788826444208

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