Blessed by the cross*

"Then you may kiss the tip of it… as you would your mother's cheek. For we are family now, child. You have gained a thousand father's… all of whom are One."

He proffered forwards that fleshy implement, it's swollen tip now revealed as a purple, bulbous lump. Chastity was transfixed and disgusted to see a glistening bead of translucent liquid appear at the end. She could smell the meaty, animal odour of it as he brought it down below her nostrils. Quickly, she reached forward and gave it the lightest caress of her lips… hoping that would satisfy the man and get this 'cock' taken away from her.

There was no such luck however. Father reached behind her and ran a strong hand in amongst her hair, making her scalp prickle and holding her steady. Then he brought that veiny pillar up to touch the centre of her forehead, leaving the feeling of a spot of slimy liquid cooling upon her skin. He did the same at her chin, then from one cheek to the other. A sign of the cross, as well she recognised. Chastity closed her eyes to accept this blessing, unorthodox as it was… but found the maneuver still continued, even as the man began talking again. From left to right and back again, he continued to rub himself across her face while the teen had little choice but to grimace and take it.

“Flesh upon flesh. Soul against spirit. The Father, the Mother, the Virgin Whore and her Angel. Blessed be those who take the sin from our seed."

His mantra was alien to Chastity's ears, but said with as much conviction as any other she had heard chanted. Its syllables matching time with the oh-so-strange experience of his half-stiffened limb being rubbed across her face. It caught on the bridge of her nose each time and then sprung violently loose, slapping back against her cheek. She could feel the very life within it. The pumping blood and twitching nerves. Never had her personal space been so invaded by another's body, not the least a full-grown man's. Was this one of those private intimacies shared by man and wife that her mother had spent so much of her childhood avoiding discussing or alluding too? If so, the teen was not quite sure what all the fuss was about… It was vaguely unpleasant, sure… but not unmanageable. She grit her teeth and tried to simply let the experience wash over her. Trying not to miss out on any of the words in Father's prayer. She was not one raised to ignore a call of worship.

The head shepherd smirked to see his new lamb slip so quickly into acceptance of this new view of normal. She really was just like her mother… a perfect addition to their happy, little cloister. He could see the various unveiled cocks of his supporters rise at the sight of her contented debasement. They would already be dreaming up all the ways they could shape such a naive and innocent soul. But… patience was needed. The lessons must be gradual. Too fast and they might end up breaking her… as they had so many before. This one was special though… he was confident she could stay the course. Confident that she could achieve perfection…

For now, he moved away. The pleasure of mopping her brow with his phallus best saved for further exploration later. Stepping now over to the parent, he continued the process… Showing her daughter the fruit of his months of preparatory whispers; upon this woman so **** to find some sanctuary of subservient belief for them both. Chastity watched enthralled as her mother accepted her own cross of cock with a wide smile upon her face, and adoring eyes staring up at the man in white collar and black suit. This was clearly not the first time she had received such treatment… The girl wondered how many times the older woman had been greeted thus? Noting her keen observation, the priest halted his swaying movements with his penis before her mother's lips… Thinking perhaps it was time to show stage two of this regularly practised ceremony.

He did not have to wait long. The woman had been trained well. She took the length of him into her mouth and down her gullet without a gag or hesitation. Hands clasped demurely behind her back, she pushed herself forward from her knees. Impaling her face upon him until his balls rested against her chin. And there she stayed… awaiting any further instruction that might be given by touch upon her forehead or thrust against her lips. Content to slowly **** herself blue upon him, if such was what he desired. It had taken a long time to twist her prim and paranoid worldview into believing this was her truest path… But once that was done, she only seemed to become more and more eager to follow his every word. Bringing her own child to him willingly was the culmination of that. A contract of blood and faith more binding than ever he could have hoped for. This was a work of words worth waiting for. Proof that his silver tongue could achieve true miracles, if given the time and patience.