Stella Stops Watching

Stella with a deep breath looked down, closing her eyes for a moment.

She could feel it, there within her. Will, Stella couldn’t explain it, despite the thrill, excitement, desire for more. She felt she was in danger, that she needed to get away from this.

“Kneel.” Looking back up, she locked her gaze to the door and stood, fighting the electrical surge of her body, pulling her to look back towards the duo on the couch.

Resisting the slurping, gurgling sound of Catherine’s lips upon that cock. The soft harmonious and alluring sound of Catherine moaning around the impressive looking fuck stick.

What would it feel like to have it inside me? Stella shook the thought from the forefront of her mind.

Resisting the voice in her head, coercing her with ideas far beyond simply agreeing with the suggestion that they could just suck, or even fuck Galen into accepting some small action so Paul could keep the park from being more hospitable for the homeless Stella stood and stepped towards the door.

Turning to look at the duo, just for a moment Stella stuttered as she went to utter some excuse to leave.

His eyes.

Stella found herself frozen as she locked eyes with the First Disciple. Stella couldn’t blink, it was as if some how she lost hold over control of her body.

“Kneel.”

Stella gasped in surprise, and questioned the strange excitement as her knees hit the hard floor concealed beneath the offices carpet tile. Eyes still locked with Galen, Stella felt her heart pounding heavily as he rose from the couch, Catherine sitting up and setting to work undressing herself.

It seemed like an eternity, his suit jacket sliding off onto the couch. The blind calm unbuttoning of his shirt as he maintained unblinking eyes contact with Stella.

As Galen shrugged the shirt off he held it out, a now naked Catherine delicately folding it and putting it off to the side of the couch.

Stella was frozen, bound by secret desires to experiment in kinks spawned by one too many 50 Shades of Grey and similar novels. A latent desire to be dominated and commanded having given the First Disciple all it needed to take hold of Stella magically.

As Catherine lovingly stripped his pants, watching the frozen Stella locked in a gaze with the First Disciple she smiled with perverse delight. Since the washroom earlier in the day with Laura all she had wanted was to see another person tainted, and perverted with the same wanton needs.

With each quiet footfall of the approaching man, his skin looking ever more sunburned as he approached, the pounding of Stella’s heart growing harder, slower, more physically hammering in her chest.

As he stopped to tower before Stella, Catherine sunk in behind her with calm fluid grace more appropriate for a snake wrapping around is prey. Catherine’s nails teased across the bare skin of Stella’s shoulders, down her back and across her midriff, lips kissing along Stella’s shoulders as they teasingly scratched.

A crucifix hanging, impotent, unheeded in defense against this spiritual threat it had yet to be called into action against.

As a blackening nailed hand firmly, and slowly stroked the cock now teetering inches before Stella’s face, her gaze locked looking up past it into the clouding looking eyes.

“Ask me to bless you. Tell me how much you want it.” The command rattled at those hurried fantasies.

Something stirred inside Stella. Primordial desires, wanton needs, resisted temptations, and declined opportunities all rattled at the cage of her inhibition, stirring and growing as a monster suddenly potent and eager to escape.

Catherine stroked at her, groping her large breasts free of their bra, teasing at their hardened nipples.

“Do it…” She calmly, seductively encouraged in hushed husky purrs to Stella’s ear. “Have him bless you with his seed.” Catherine moaned hungrily. “Feel its warmth spray upon you.” Grinding against Stella’s back Catherine breathed deeply and passionately.

“Then let me lick it off… As you decide what you want to do… next…”

“Cum on… me…” Stella gasped, enjoying the presses, and squeezes of Catherine’s hand in response.

“You don’t want it.” Galen firmly taunted. “Guess you don’t need, my blessing.”