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Chapter 7 - Father Beocca

     Two days later. A Cathedral. 

~Father Beocca~

"And so does time go by and by, yet those who had been liquefied by lust and flesh finds their paths no more. All they do is fill in the empty barrel till it's overflowing. And when it overflows continuously, it becomes a rill of sin. Just a gaunt path of desires. Yet, if the sinner persists in this sin, the rill becomes a lake, then a river, then an ocean. In which the poor lost soul drowns."

Father Beocca took a pause. He was the priest in charge of the only Catholic in the area. The St. Agnus, Memorial Cathedral. Three miles away from Iseult's place.

He was dressed in a long black robe with a white collar fixed into the two openings of the robe at the neck region. He has a smooth face, young, 5"8.

His eyes were keen on the thick young lady, who's dressed in a red skimpy gown which canvassed the swell of her hips, her fresh thighs and fair cleavages. Her busts handful. 

The lady's face down, occasionally looking up at the father. She had nodded her head after the epistle. But the father seemed to have more to say. 

"You cannot be saved by your own self, my daughter. You should seek the Lord with all your heart. Fasten unto him and let him be the strength that which you leech off. For he never complains."

The lady nodded again. 

"Yes father. That was what I came to do. To confess my sin before the Lord and seek an amendment of my ways. I'm tired of robbing my fellow women of the happiness of their marriages. Even though it's not my fault but the covetousness of their husbands."

The priest trailed the end of the gown to the fall of her thighs. When he had gotten enough, he stood tall,

"And that's what the Lord will lead us to do. He is merciful and just. Unlike we mortals."

He stood up suddenly,

"Come with me, daughter. Into the holy of the holiest and confess your sin before the Lord."

She stood up with no words, picking up her bags in both her hands, clutched to the fall of her gown. 

She followed the priest in the direction of the beautifully adorned altar, but took a stray turn to towards a curtained wall. As he pulled the curtain, a door appeared. He got the door and stepped in. 

Twas largely an empty room with a long red carpet. There were two chairs to the far end of the room and at the same level opposite the chairs was a large drawer with a huge mirror in it. 

"But before we make this confession before the Lord."

Father Beocca turned in the direction of the lady who had just stepped in. 

"The Lord wants me to feel what desires and pleasure you give to men with this blessed body of yours. Just like he had urged Hosea to marry whores that he (Hosea) could feel such agony he feels whenever Israel commits sin by serving another God, aside YHWH."

"What are you doing father?"

The lady walked to the nearest wall, as the priest advanced. 

"To give you this pleasure one more time before you are rid of it. So, you can feel how merciful he is."

She couldn't move any longer. Her back pressed to the wall as her bag dropped. The priest leaned forward on her, breathing heavily, washing her face in sequence of breaths. 

"I don't think this is a good idea, Father. You should be helping me stop this and not waking up the beast in me."

He chuckled softly and nuzzled her neck, pressing his lips sharply in the curve of her neck. 

"Do not strive daughter. Give in to this temptation one more time. Look at King David. He gave in to the temptation and ate of the Holy bread and drank the wine of God, yet he lived. And he wouldn't even stop there, he stole a man's wife and sent the man to die."

He paused in gentle whispers, moving to the other neck as she moved rhythmically to his touch. 

"Yet, God would not kill him, but warned him. As he would both of us now. Be still and be of good faith, daughter, for the Lord finds a delight in you. And not everyone gets this grace."

He looked up at her and kissed her warmly, smacking his lips against hers. Then went roughly, the warmth of his body sending shivers down her spines as she wrapped her arms around his neck. 

He struggled for her to let go of his neck as he pushed back and buried his face in her cleavages, mumbling into the titties,

"The work of my father. The beautiful work of my father."

He raised his head, laughing weirdly. He grabbed the titties with both hands, doing a rough squeeze as she threw her head up in response, moaning softly. 

He went down slowly and tenderly on her, till he was squatting. He looked up at her then plunged his face through the space between her thighs, hardly pulling up the stretchy gown. 

Since she was without panties, he plunged his mouth into her mini moo and began hunting for pleasure. 

"My father, my father."

He mumbled as the lady moaned continuously. Holding his head tightly and pressing it to her thighs, as her laps paved further. 

"The chariot of Israel, and the horsemen thereof." 

He added. Suddenly he heard the coo and giggle from behind him.

He dismissed the sound, sliding his hands up her up to grab her titties again as his face remained buried in her thighs; she had pulled up her gown. 

Then the coo and giggle came again. He couldn't ignore now,

"You moan like a baby, daughter?"

"Don't stop father."

The lady looked down at him as he smiled and buried his face in again. But as she looked up gradually in pleasure, to resume the former position; head thrown to the ceiling. She saw a giggling baby few steps away, behind the priest. 

"Father..."

She called, but he responded,

"Say daddy."

"Father... look!"

She closed her thighs in his face, slapping him with the soft flesh. He looked up at that,

"The ocean is not dried it yet. It must be sucked dry that you don't drown in it."

"Behind you father. A baby. Do you have a baby, father?"

"What baby?"

As he made to turn to his back, he felt a weight on him suddenly, like something leapt on his back; since he was squatting. 

"What's this?"

He tried to turn, but the baby held strongly unto his neck with such great strength not even typical of a 35 years old adult. 

His movement was too slow for the determined baby as his neck broke from a fierce twist. Though his frame was facing forward, his neck was to the back. Lifeless. 

The lady flinched, falling away as she watched a snake crawl out of the mouth the baby, broke into the father's mandible, crawled up into his mouth, released venom, broke into the roof of his mouth then broke the cartilages of the nose, leaving dead all the cells in the father's brain, including all the information and prophecies of Hosea. 

The priest's eyes darkened all of a sudden and in a twitch of an eye, his heard bursted open... eyes popped out, teeth flew in several directions and some of his liquid waste splattered on the lady. Who lost it and ran out screaming on top of her voice. 

The baby climbed down from the father. It cooed and giggled. And then was nowhere to be found...

Few minutes later, the blaring sirens of the cops were heard outside the cathedral. Twas just five minutes to evening mass. 

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