Thread: Unholy Conspiracy (Quix and Xana)

Aisha, Father Donahue called, peaking his head out of his office as the slender woman tried to sneak past. She froze in her tracks wincing as she heard his heavy footsteps coming behind her. My child, where have you been? You missed your last counseling session, and you know you cant stay here unless you agree to receive weekly counseling. I know, Father, Aisha murmured, rubbing her right shoulder with her left arm, trying to avoid the mans eyes. She had slept out on the street the last two nights, but the temperatures were dipping into the single digits tonight and she didnt want to risk freezing. All she wanted was a hot shower and a warm bed, but these things came at a cost. Well, if you want to stay, come into my office and we can make up your session now, he offered, and ushered her in front of him, his grip denying her any real choice in the matter. Once they were both in the room, and the door was locked behind them she felt Donahue take her overcoat off. This coat is too ratty to keep, the priest insisted, folding it over his arm. I need that coat, Aisha insisted. Winters in the Boston were barely tolerable with it but without it she would be nearly confined to the womans shelter. Nonsense, Aisha. Bishop Manley and several volunteers will be by tomorrow with new clothing donations. I am sure if you meet with him you will get a chance to pick out a new, nicer coat for yourself. He explained, putting the weather worn garment behind his desk. Aisha had been around long enough to know what that meant. Now Aisha, I think we should start our session off with a prayer. Why dont you kneel so you can join me in praising God, and seeking his guidance, the way Father Donahue spoke the words, they didnt come off as suggestions. Despite the curdling in her stomach, she did as she was told, knowing things could always be worst. At least with wasnt Father Thorpe who found her. He was far more demanding that Father Donahue, and far crueler. On her knees before the priest, she wasnt surprised to hear him working to unbuckle his belt and unzip his pants. His flaccid cock came out, thick sausage fingers stroking his meat until it started to fill with blood. His other hand took a firm grasp of her head, bring her closer to his meat, until the bright red head was brushing her lips. Accept the offering of Christ, my child, and be filled with his glory. Holding back her disgust, she opened her mouth, groaning as Father Donahue pushed half his length in with a single stroke. In and out, his filthy meat prodded and probed her throat, long, deep stroked that had her gagging. Still, he didnt stop or slow down, pendulous balls slapping her chin as he for his shaft all that way in her mouth. Thank you God, he moaned heading thrown back as his strokes came faster and harder, gasping as he felt her convulse under the throat fucking, the desperate tensing milking his cock as she shot himself down her throat. Now, dont waste a drop, that would be a sin. Only once she had swallowed all his semen was she given respite, cough and catching her breath as Father Donahue put his cock away. Bless you child, he said, the same mocking way he always said it when he finished with her. Hello? An unfamiliar female voice called from the hallway, Is someone here, please? There was a quiet desperation in the voice, and Father Donahue perked up. Stay here, he instructed, leaving his office in search of the new voice. Aisha peaked through the office window, and saw a young woman, hardly more than a girl with dark blonde hair tied in a messy bun, and bloodshot eyes, tear filled eyes. She overheard the girl explain that her stepfather beat her and she needed a place to stay, away from the abuse. Father Donahue assured her that she would be safe here, and Aisha felt herself cringe at his assertion. She had a few minutes, while he got the girls room setup. He wouldnt do anything yet, he would wait until she was indebted to the church before making a move. More likely Father Thorne would make the first move. He always liked the young ones. So Aisha turned on the computer, rifling through the drawers as she waited for it to start. She found one of the things she needed, a fifth of cheap vodka, which she half drained in a single go, just to wash the taste of his exploitation out of her mouth. She hid the bottle within her layers of clothing, turning her attention back to the computer now that it was ready. Opening the search bar, she typed in Jeffery ODonnell contact information. Among her very few possession, Aisha had three articles written by the man, detailing corruption and abuse scandals that had rocked the city and state. Outing racist police officers not that she needed a white man to tell her that Boston PD had a racism problem, but she know other white people would only listen to such accusations if a respectable white man were making them another detailing a bribery scheme involving the previous mayor, and the most recent one revealing an embezzlement scheme with Boston public schools superintendent. If one could bring to light what was happening here, to her and the dozens of other women who had nowhere else to turn, it was this guy. She found a number, to his work phone at the Boston Herald. Using Fathers Donahues phone, she left a quick message Mr. ODonnell, this is Aisha Thomas. You dont know me, but I may have a story for you to investigate. Meet me at Brothers Deli Restaurant, tomorrow at 10 am. Quickly now, she turned off the computer and slumped back against the couch in his office, just before he could come back in. She didnt meet his eyes when he returned, but could feel his gaze on her skin. Well now, Aisha, where were we?