Chapter 16: The Reverend's Fall
The Reverend didn’t leave. His feet, rooted to the worn Persian rug, betrayed him. His eyes, wide with a horror that couldn’t compete with the base pull in his groin, remained fixed on the obscene spectacle of his stepdaughter.
“She’s my stepdaughter,” he corrected, his voice a thin, reedy thing. It was a feeble attempt to erect a boundary, to reclaim some moral authority from the ruin. “You’re defiling her.”
Trez chuckled, the sound vibrating through Nia’s back. His huge hands slid from her breasts down to her belly, splaying possessively over the swell. “Defiling? Look at her, Reverend. Listen.”
Nia’s head lolled, her cries becoming a continuous, keening wail of pleasure as the two men inside her found a devastating, synchronized rhythm. The wet, slapping sounds of their union filled the silent spaces between her moans.
“She’s a vessel,” Trez continued, his tone conversational, almost professorial. “A beautiful, hungry vessel. We’re just filling her up. Keeping her happy. You think she wants your prayers right now? Or this?”
He punctuated the question with a deep, grinding thrust that made Nia scream, her body clenching violently around both cocks.
The Reverend flinched. A stain of dark blush spread down his neck, visible above his clerical collar. His hands clenched at his sides.
“I’ll tell,” he whispered, but the threat had no air behind it. “The whole town will know what animals you are.”
Jax laughed, a sharp, derisive bark. “Tell them. Tell them the saintly reverend’s girl is carrying three babies, two are black. Tell them you stood there and watched her get fucked silly and got a hard-on. Go ahead.”
The Reverend’s gaze darted down to his own trousers, where a betraying bulge had indeed formed. He quickly covered it with his hands, shame flooding his features.
Trez saw it. His eyes, dark and calculating, narrowed. A slow, cruel smile spread across his face. “You know,” he mused, his hips never stilling, “everyone’s always saying you’re a man of the people. Should be closer to your flock. To your family.”
He nodded at Jax. A silent understanding passed between them. Jax’s grin turned feral.
In one coordinated motion, they shifted. Trez kept his cock buried deep in Nia’s stuffed pussy, but he turned her upper body, her back still to his chest. Jax withdrew with a slick pop, making her gasp at the sudden emptiness. He moved swiftly, circling behind the paralyzed Reverend.
“What are you—?” the Reverend began, but Jax was too strong, too quick. He pinned the older man’s arms behind his back in a firm, unyielding grip.
Trez leaned down, his mouth against Nia’s ear. Her eyes were glazed, her mind swimming in endorphins and raw sensation. “See your stepdaddy, baby girl? He’s so tense. So worried. You should help him relax. Be a good girl.”
Nia blinked, her vision swimming. She saw the Reverend’s horrified face, inches from hers. She saw the panic in his eyes. But the pleasure thrumming through her core was a louder voice, a demanding master. Trez’s hands guided her head, gently but insistently, downward.
“Suck his cock, Nia,” Trez commanded, his voice soft and absolute. “Make him feel good. You know how to do that.”
The Reverend struggled. “No! Nia, don’t you dare—!”
But his protest died in a choked gasp as Nia, moving with a stoned, pleasurable compliance, nuzzled her face against the front of his trousers. The smell of starch and old books was overwhelmed by the scent of his sudden, shameful arousal. Her delicate, practiced fingers fumbled with his belt and zipper.
“Stop… this is a sin…” he whispered, but his hips jerked forward as she freed him. He was thick, uncut, rigid with a tension that wasn’t purely fear.
Nia looked at it, dazed. Then, with a soft, hungry whimper that had nothing to do with the man attached to it and everything to do with her own desperate need to please, she opened her mouth and took him in.
The Reverend cried out. It was a sound of utter defeat, mingled with a shocking, undeniable surge of ecstasy. His head fell back against Jax’s shoulder, his eyes squeezing shut. Her mouth was hot, wet, impossibly sinful. She bobbed her head, a slave to the rhythm Trez was still pounding into her from behind.
“That’s it,” Trez cooed, watching over her shoulder. “Take it all. You were made for this, for taking cock in every hole. Your pretty little mouth belongs on a dick right now, doesn’t it?”
Nia could only moan around the flesh in her mouth, her agreement obvious. The Reverend was thrusting shallowly, helplessly, into her face, his prayers forgotten, replaced by ragged breaths.
Trez’s pace intensified. Jax held the Reverend steady, his own cock hard again and pressing against the man’s back. “Gonna blow, Dad,” Jax grunted.
“Do it,” Trez growled. “Fill her up. Give our babies a bath.”
Jax released the Reverend’s arms, but the man was beyond fighting now, his hands tangling in Nia’s ruined bridal hair, fucking her mouth with a growing, frantic desperation. Jax moved back to Nia’s front, his thick cock sliding back into her over-stuffed pussy alongside his father’s with a practiced, brutal ease. The double fullness made Nia scream around the Reverend’s shaft, the vibrations pushing him over the edge.
With a strangled sob that was part agony, part rapture, the Reverend came, pumping his seed down his stepdaughter’s throat. She swallowed convulsively, obediently, as Trez and Jax reached their own climaxes. A flood of hot, sticky release filled her, a dual torrent that seemed to have no end, mixing inside her until it overflowed, dripping down her trembling thighs.
They pulled out of her simultaneously. Nia slumped, coughing, strings of saliva and cum connecting her lips to the Reverend’s softening cock. The room was silent except for their heavy breathing and the distant, muffled sound of the wedding march beginning to play in the chapel below.
Trez looked at the Reverend, who was staring at Nia with a shattered expression, his pants still open, his guilt a living thing in the air.
“Not so holy now, are you?” Trez said, wiping himself on the tattered veil on the vanity.
He then hoisted a boneless Nia up. Her eyes were wide, shock cutting through the pleasured haze as she realized what had just happened, what she’d just done. “Daddy…?” she whispered, the word a child’s plea.
The Reverend recoiled at the title.
Trez ignored her. He walked her, stumbling, over to the plush velvet kneeling bench at the room’s center. He sat on it, his own immense cock, still wet and semi-hard, resting against his thigh. Then he positioned Nia over the Reverend, who was trying feebly to tuck himself away.
“No,” Nia breathed, struggling weakly. “No, not him… please…”
“He’s family,” Trez said simply, his hands like iron manacles on her hips. “And family shares.”
Jax stepped behind the Reverend, grabbing his shoulders, forcing him to sit up straight on the bench opposite Trez. “You wanted to save her,” Jax sneered in his ear. “So save her. Fuck the devil out of her.”
Trez lowered Nia. The Reverend, his face a mask of torment, tried to turn his head away. But his body betrayed him again, twitching with interest as Nia’s slick, used, cum-dripping pussy hovered over his lap.
“I can’t,” the Reverend choked out.
“You already did,” Trez said. And he let Nia drop.
The Reverend gasped as she sank onto him, her tight, stretched heat enveloping him. It was a violation of every oath he’d ever taken. It was also the most intensely carnal sensation of his life. Nia cried out, a sound of distress, but her body, trained and addicted, began to ride him instinctively, seeking the friction it craved.
Trez watched, a dark king on his throne, his hands guiding Nia’s bouncing hips, setting a pace. The Reverend’s hands came up, trembling, to push her away. Instead, they closed around her narrow waist, his fingers digging into her pale skin. He began to thrust upward, meeting her movements, his eyes locked on the ceiling as if seeking a forgiveness he knew would never come.
“That’s it,” Trez smirked, seeing the man surrender. “Fuck your pretty little stepdaughter. Claim her. She belongs to all of us now.”
Below them, the music swelled. The guests were assembled. Cam was waiting at the altar, smiling nervously, blindly trusting.
And in the dim, fragrant room above, the Reverend fucked his sobbing, responsive stepdaughter under the approving gaze of the men who now owned them both, the final vestiges of his world crumbling to dust with every desperate, shameful thrust.