Female Led Relationships
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Nuns in Control: Part 3
🕑 Added 2024-11-15 23:04:55 +0000 UTC
Simon’s jaw ached as he sucked on the seventeenth priest's cock. He had been in the glory hole as each priest entered and slid their cock through the glory hole followed by their comment of "Forgive me, for I have sinned”.
Simon was red in the face as his cock strained within the confines of the chastity cage throughout this. Here he was on his knees, naked in chastity, collar, cuffs and shackles around his wrists and ankles with the seventeenth cock of the day in his mouth and he was turned on by it...
Maxi also stood towering over him, her presence commanding and unyielding. She held the whip in one hand, a playful but menacing glint in her eyes. "Is that all you've got?" she teased, snapping the whip against his exposed skin, leaving a stinging mark.
"Come on, suck harder, faster," she instructed, her voice dripping with mockery. "Is this really the best you can do? Pathetic." The whip cracked again, making him wince, his body instinctively tensing under the sharp sting.
She leaned down close, her voice a sultry whisper but tinged with dominance. "You think you're working hard now? Oh, honey, this is just the warm-up. You’d better impress me, or this little session is going to get a whole lot more intense."
The whip snapped once more, punctuating her words. "You want to earn my approval, don’t you? Or are you just a naughty boy who likes being punished?" Maxi's laughter was soft but filled with mockery as she stepped back, watching him struggle to meet her demands.
"That's it," she cooed, mockingly sweet now. "Put some real effort into it, or I’ll have to remind you why I’m in charge." Her whip connected again, harder this time, the sharp sound echoing in the room as she grinned wickedly. "Good boy. Maybe you're not entirely hopeless after all."
The large cock exploded down Simon’s throat as he gagged on the massive eruption of cum. It came out his nose as he choked on it which elicited a laugh from Maxi.
She removed the chain connecting his wrists and ankles before attaching the leash to his collar and lead him out into the churches main area.
Simon’s face burned an even deeper shade of red, his humiliation sinking into every pore as he stood there, utterly exposed. Seventeen priests and all the nuns were scattered across the room, engaged in animated discussions, their voices a steady murmur of casual conversation. None of them seemed the least bit perturbed by the spectacle he presented—a young man stripped of every shred of dignity, standing completely naked except for the gleaming chastity device locked securely around him, a collar snug against his neck, and cuffs tightly encircling his wrists and ankles.
His heart pounded so loudly in his chest that he wondered if they could hear it over their discussions. He fought the urge to cover himself, knowing that any attempt would only draw attention to his vulnerability. Instead, he stood rigid, his hands cuffed behind his back, his body tense with shame.
The chastity device was a constant, unyielding reminder of his submission, its cold metal pressing against his most private place, ensuring his arousal could never reach any form of release. The collar around his neck felt heavier than ever, as if it physically bore the weight of his degradation, its polished surface glinting under the soft light in the room. His wrists tingled under the firm grip of the cuffs, a quiet testament to how utterly powerless he was.
Simon’s gaze darted around the room, searching desperately for a hint of acknowledgment or sympathy, but none came. The priests continued to discuss what sounded like mundane logistics—rotations for upcoming services, hymn selections, and preparations for upcoming feast days. The nuns were similarly preoccupied, debating flower arrangements and candle placements for the altar. Not one of them batted an eye at his presence, as though his nudity and confinement were entirely routine, an afterthought to their more pressing matters.
The knot of shame tightened in his stomach. Don’t they care? Don’t they see me standing here like this? he thought, his mind swirling with self-consciousness. He felt small, insignificant, as though he were no more than furniture in the room—a mere decoration to be ignored.
His cheeks burned hotter as his gaze briefly met Sister Margaret’s, her sharp blue eyes cutting through him like a blade. She arched a single eyebrow, her lips curling into the faintest hint of a smirk, as if to say, Yes, we see you, and this is exactly where you belong. He quickly dropped his eyes to the floor, wishing it would swallow him whole.
His legs itched to move, to bolt out of the room and escape this nightmare, but the collar and cuffs seemed to anchor him in place, a constant reminder of his helplessness.
Simon felt utterly alone, despite being surrounded by so many people. Each of them carried on as if his degradation were the most natural thing in the world. And maybe, to them, it was.
Simon’s spiraling thoughts were abruptly shattered by the arrival of Bishop Brennan. The man was a towering presence, standing a formidable six-foot-five, his broad shoulders and muscular frame straining against the fabric of his ceremonial garments. It was impossible not to notice him; every movement exuded authority and power, his commanding presence silencing the room without a single word.
Simon’s eyes widened as they travelled up the bishop’s imposing figure, taking in the way his robes barely contained the bulk of his physique. The very air around him seemed to shift, charged with an unspoken intensity that demanded attention.
Bishop Brennan approached Maxi with deliberate steps, his towering figure casting a long shadow across the chamber. His eyes, sharp and penetrating, fixed on her with an expression of mild curiosity. Simon, standing awkwardly nearby, felt an overwhelming sense of insignificance as the bishop didn’t so much as glance in his direction.
“Maxi,” Bishop Brennan began in his deep, resonant voice, nodding slightly in acknowledgement of her presence. “How is the training of the new altar boy coming along?”
Maxi’s lips curved into a playful smile, her eyes flickering briefly toward Simon, who squirmed under the weight of the conversation that excluded him entirely. “Oh, Bishop Brennan,” she said with a mischievous lilt in her voice, “the training is coming along... quite satisfactorily.”
Simon’s face burned with humiliation as Maxi continued, her words laced with amusement. “Of course, it’s not without its challenges. You know how stubborn and resistant some can be in the beginning. But I’ve been breaking him in, step by step.” She paused, her gaze lingering on Simon for a moment before returning to the bishop. “He’s learning obedience, discipline, and the... finer aspects of servitude.”
Simon’s breath hitched as Maxi’s tone shifted ever so slightly, a teasing lilt creeping into her voice. “He’s particularly... eager to please, though he tries to hide it. Aren’t you, Simon?” Her eyes locked onto his, and he felt a rush of heat flood his cheeks. He looked away, trying to escape her gaze, but the collar around his neck reminded him he had no escape at all.
Bishop Brennan chuckled, a low, rumbling sound that filled the room. “Good, good. It’s important to instil those qualities early. They must understand their place, after all.”
Maxi’s smile grew, and she turned to the bishop with a knowing look. “Oh, Simon understands his place, don’t you, dear? He’s so good at standing still and being... observed.” She let the words hang in the air, her voice dripping with mock sweetness. “But he still gets so flustered when I remind him how exposed he is.”
She glanced at Simon again, clearly revelling in the way his embarrassment deepened. “Isn’t that right, Simon? You don’t have anything to hide, after all.”
Simon’s hands clenched at his sides, his humiliation mounting as he stood there, unnoticed and unacknowledged by the bishop, and utterly at the mercy of Maxi’s teasing. Despite himself, he felt an unwelcome thrill run through him, the conflicting emotions leaving him both mortified and inexplicably drawn in.
Maxi tilted her head, her tone turning mock-thoughtful. “Oh, Bishop, you wouldn’t believe how much effort it’s taken. He’s so easily flustered, but that’s part of the fun, isn’t it? Watching him squirm, watching him try so hard to behave. It’s... endearing.” Her eyes sparkled with mischief as she let her gaze trail over Simon, her words hitting him like a series of playful slaps.
The bishop nodded, his expression serious despite the playful undertone of Maxi’s words. “Indeed. Their discomfort is a necessary part of their growth. It’s the foundation upon which their humility and devotion are built.”
Bishop Brennan paused mid-step, turning back to Maxi with a faint glint of curiosity in his sharp eyes. “And what of his... chastity?” he asked, his deep voice carrying an air of solemn interest. “Has he been compliant?”
Maxi’s smile grew into something almost wicked, and she clasped her hands behind her back, swaying slightly as if the topic brought her great delight. “Oh, Bishop, he’s been locked since the very first day.” She cast a teasing glance toward Simon, who froze under her gaze, his face flaming red. “Not a single release, not even once. He’s kept himself... pure, just as required.”
Bishop Brennan’s lips curled into a faint, approving smile, his towering figure radiating satisfaction. “Excellent. It’s good to hear the boy is adhering to discipline. Such restraint is paramount for one in his position.”
Maxi leaned in slightly, her voice dropping into a conspiratorial tone, loud enough for Simon to hear but clearly meant to emphasize his helplessness. “He’s been such a good little example of self-control, even if it’s been... oh, let’s say agonizing for him at times. But I remind him that this is all for his betterment.” Her gaze flicked toward Simon again, amusement dancing in her eyes. “And it’s made him very attentive.”
Simon felt the weight of both their gazes, his humiliation swelling as his mind fixated on Maxi’s words. He couldn’t look at either of them, his body rigid, every nerve screaming with the awareness of his enforced chastity.
The bishop nodded, clearly pleased. “Good work, Maxi. Maintaining his discipline is key. It ensures that he remains focused, humble, and entirely devoted to his duties.”
Maxi’s hand tugged on Simon’s collar as she guided him up the cold, stone steps of the altar. The air in the grand hall felt heavier with every step, the eyes of the assembled priests and nuns burning into Simon like embers. His heart pounded in his chest, humiliation prickling every inch of his skin.
The altar loomed ahead—ornate, intimidating, and shining faintly under the flickering candlelight. Once they reached the top, Maxi turned him to face the gathered audience. Her smile was sharp, and predatory, as she produced a set of gleaming iron shackles.
“Now, now, Simon,” she cooed, her voice dripping with faux sweetness. “We can’t have you wriggling away, can we? This is an important moment, and you’ll need to... stay perfectly still.”
Simon’s cheeks burned as Maxi guided his wrist to the first iron shackle, snapping it shut with a decisive clink. Then the other wrist, and finally his ankles. The metal was cold and unyielding, pinning him in place as he stood spread-eagle before the altar. The slight rattling of the chains echoed in the silent hall, magnifying Simon’s vulnerability.
“There we go,” Maxi said, stepping back and clasping her hands with a pleased look. “Doesn’t he look just... perfect?”
Simon dared to glance up, his humiliation surging as he caught the faces of the onlookers—some whispering, others smiling knowingly. He tugged slightly at the shackles, but they held firm, a stark reminder of his helplessness. Maxi’s hand lingered on his shoulder, patting him like one would a particularly obedient pet.
The sound of Bishop Brennan’s heavy footsteps brought a fresh wave of heat to Simon’s face. The towering figure approached the altar, his presence commanding absolute silence from the room. In his massive hands, he carried a small silver chalice, its surface intricately engraved with religious symbols that caught the flickering light.
The bishop stopped in front of Simon, his expression unreadable as he raised the chalice slightly. He turned to Maxi with an approving nod. “Well done,” he rumbled. “He’s presented just as he should be.”
Maxi beamed at the praise, her voice light with amusement as she responded. “Thank you, Bishop. He’s been such a good boy, haven’t you, Simon?” She leaned in close, her voice dropping to a whisper only Simon could hear. “Though I think this moment might just push him over the edge. Don’t you agree?”
Simon bit his lip, his face crimson, as Maxi stepped aside to allow Bishop Brennan to step forward. The chalice in the bishop’s hand glinted ominously as he held it aloft, his deep voice resonating through the hall.
Bishop Brennan held the chalice to Simon’s mouth and he opened wide to accept the wine for his parched mouth.
As soon as the liquid touched his lips, Simon knew this wasn’t wine; it was cum.
The chalice was filled with the cum of all the priests and now Simon had to drink their loads. He felt precum leak down from the chastity cage as he realised he was actually getting turned on by this.
Once the chalice was empty, the priests and nuns clapped and congratulated Simon on being such a good altar boy.
Next, Sister Evelyn approached Bishop Brennan and handed him two small silver keys, the keys to Simon’s chastity belt. Simon’s cock grew and squirmed against the chastity belt as if they were trying to break free and get the keys with a mind of their own.
She handed the keys to bishop Brennan who added them to a key chain containing hundreds of keys.
He turned to the priests and nuns and said today is a special day. I add the keys belonging to the three hundredth altar boy today. Not one of these altar boys have ever come again since I added these keys to the chain, and I don’t intend for that to ever change.
Everyone erupted in laughter and applause.
Simon couldn't believe what he was hearing. he was never going to be allowed cum again. And there were three hundred of them locked up in chastity and trained and used like this.
Bishop Brennan walked around behind Simon and said there is no going back now altar boy as he pressed two red-hot brands against each of Simon’s ass cheeks.
Simon tried to yell out in pain but sister Evelyn poured another chalice of cum down his throat causing him to gag and splurt out cum as his ass seared with pain.
Bishop Brennan then removed the brands from his ass and told everyone the ceremony was complete.
Simon was led back to his room and locked inside by Maxi, who patted him on the head and told him he had done well that day, but now it was time for his advanced training.
Once inside his bedroom, he turned and looked at his ass in the mirror and all he saw were the words altar on his left cheek and boy on his right cheek. He would forever be branded as an altar boy.
If this was just formal training, what was the advanced training going to look like?
Comments
Toren
I’m really liking this story:) Thank you! Do you know how many characters you are planning on writing for this story?
Michael Clubine
Another great chapter
