I nod, biting my lip. Tears trickle down my cheeks and the cum inside me trickles down his length. The others loosened me, but it’s still too tight, and I cry out in pain when I finally force myself onto his tip, impaling myself on it. I stop, my thighs trembling, my whole body quaking.
“Come on, baby,” Angel says, crouching beside us. “You can take it.” He takes my hand, stroking the back of it, and holds my gaze. “Just relax and show him how good you are.”
“Yeah,” Saint says, kneeling behind me and gathering my hair in one hand. “Just relax and slide that tight little cunt onto our father’s cock.”
“Mercy’s fucking a priest,” Heath sings out, bouncing on his heels as he leans over to watch me squirm. “He’s going to wreck that pretty pussy good.”
Father Salvatore strokes my clit, stretched above his girth that’s splitting me open. “Show me what you’ve learned, lamb.”
Determination grips me, and I rise up and sink back down, whimpering each time I have to fit over the widest part of the head of his cock. At last, I adjust to that and sink further on. I rise and slam myself down, crying out each time he opens a new inch of me further than anyone’s ever done except him. It doesn’t hurt nearly as much as the first time, and that same transcendent pleasure starts to crash over me in waves as he shows my body what it can endure.
“Oh god,” I gasp out when Saint takes my hips and forces me deeper onto the Father’s cock.
“Don’t cry out for God,” Father Salvatore growls, thrusting up into me so deep tears spurt from my eyes and I choke out in pain. “He isn’t the one fucking you.”
“Yes, Father,” I sob.
His long, thick fingers wrap around my neck, his eyes going hard and sadistic behind his glasses as he grinds up into me while I gasp and sob. “Say my name.”
“Dante,” I cry, hyperventilating as I try to breathe through the pain. “My God, my father.Destroy me.”
The look he gives me is nothing short of malicious, and then he starts to pound up into me from below, each thrust a punishing torture.
“Take it,” he growls, gripping my throat harder, until black spots dot my vision.
Saint grips my hips, holding me in place so I can’t move, can’t escape as Father Salvatore kneels up, impaling me so deep a scream tears from me.
“Tell him to stop,” Saint challenges. “You can end it any time you want. Beg him to stop.”
I’m sobbing too hard to answer, but I rise up and slam back down on him, the excruciating pain inside me making me lose my breath. Father Salvatore may be our god, but I am his deliverance. I am the salvation of each and every one of the men in this room, and no amount of pain can stop me from fulfilling my duty. I will show them all that I’ll do anything for the Master, just as they will.
But Father Salvatore suddenly loosens his grip, his arm sliding away from my throat, to wrap around my body, comforting now as he grinds in to the very last inch I can take.
“How do you feel?” the priest asks me, stroking my breasts and pinching my nipple.
“Dirty,” I admit through trembling lips.
“I love seeing you like this, my dirty girl,” he says, his eyes softer now, full of admiration. “I love this side of you, your feral, wild side. Your carnal nature shines through.” He leans in, biting the side of my throat before lifting his lips to my ear. “I love you, Mercy Soules.”
The sound of those words shatters me. I lose control, my limbs flailing helplessly as pleasure and pain crest inside me, tearing another scream from my lips. Uncontrollably shaking grips me, and my walls clench around Father Salvatore. He throws his head back and groans, the sound echoing like thunder in the small room as his cock pulses thicker inside me as he cums.
“We are now bound together,” Father Salvatore says, his voice ragged as he grinds deeper still. “Five bodies have become one flesh.”
He lifts me with both hands and slams me down on him. The pain is excruciating, and I scream again and again, my body not my own, spasms jerking my limbs as if I’m possessed as the climax grips me tighter and tighter, until a sudden rush in my ears rises like a wave crashing over me, my vision goes dark, and everything disappears as I give my body and soul to him.
twenty
The Heathen
It’s weird working with the police and not running from them, but Mercy wants to give her statement and tell them all the information we have in the hopes that they’ll track down the kids in the “DISCARD” pile and we’ll finally have closure. I can’t argue with that, since she’s one of the girls who could have ended up there. But I have the closure I came for—and the grief that comes with it, transcendent in its depth, endless in scope.
It’s not the outcome I wanted, but I knew it was a possibility. Mom and Dad will be able to start the process of moving on too. We were all holding on all these years. Telling them will be the hardest thing I’ve ever done, but not the hardest I’ll ever do. Living when I know she didn’t will get that distinction.
Still, I tell myself it could be worse. That I could have lost Mercy too. That at least I have the rest of the Quint to help me, to get through the days with me, though it won’t be the same for them. I have my parents, who will grieve with me if I let them. I have school and sports and friends to throw myself into, a girl I love in a whole different way from the one I lost.
After showering the dead guy’s blood off, we go along with her and give our own statements, though the police are less interested in those. They’re not too happy with the fact that we called the press and a bunch of boats to pick up residents at the same time we called them. A lot of the “inmates,” as the police keep calling them, already left the island before the cops got here. We tell them that we don’t know anything about themurders or any gunshot wounds. One of the escapees must have gotten a guard’s gun.
I’m not sure what Angel did with his piece. For my part, I jogged up to a cliff not far from the asylum, where the lighthouse stands, and tossed my gun into the sea. And they sure as fuck aren’t going to suspect a priest of bludgeoning a guy to death and then fucking one of his students within arm’s reach of the body. At his instruction, we also leave out any mention of Walker Delacroix. I have no idea what happened to the guy anyway, but we can’t wait around for him. He’s a big boy, so I’m sure he’ll figure out a way to get home without us.
