Bad Bishop

"Come in please, Sister Harrison".

The voice was calm, but firm. It was the voice of one accustomed to being obeyed without question. Kelly didn't know what he was like at home, but she knew he had six children he could quiet with only a glare.

She stepped inside the office, and the bishop closed the door, locking it with a click. That was odd, Kelly thought. I didn't think bishops usually locked doors for interviews, did they? She let the thought pass from her mind as she took her seat in one of the comfortable chairs in front of the large oak desk. The desk was adorned with the typical trappings of a bishop; some papers and pens, a few letters, and the obligatory candy dish for the children.

Bishop Stetman was a large, powerful man. His shoulders were broad, and his suit coat did not hide the size of his arms as he sat at his chair and folded his hands on the desk in front of him. Kelly couldn't help but wonder at the size of the chest beneath that white shirt, and the muscles hidden by those sleeves.

"Please, call me Kelly," she told him in a meek voice.

His expression changed not at all. "The reason I have called you here Sister Harrison, is for some concerns I've had." The tension in the room was thick. Kelly could hardly breathe.

"What sort of concerns?" she asked.

"I haven't seen your family at church much recently." His voice was like ice, his gaze unblinking.

"Well, we've been busy, and life has been difficult..." her weak, thin excuse seemed paltry even as it escaped her lips.

The bishop stood up, smoothing his already immaculate suit coat, and walked around the desk to her. He sat on his desk, well within her personal bubble of comfort, and leaned forward to address her.

"Difficult how?"

"I..." she whispered. She could feel his breath on her, less than a foot away. Against her will she felt intimidated, uncomfortable, and just the least bit excited. "I have lots of children. They can be a handful." Kelly managed a weak smile.

Even seated, his gaze was far higher than her own. "You need discipline."

"We have rules..."

"Not rules," he interrupted, standing suddenly. "True discipline". He put his hands on her shoulders, and she suppressed a shudder. "You need to assert authority. Show them that your command is firm, and your will final."

His hands tightened on her shoulders, and they began to move slowly, his thumbs pressing hard into her muscles, and despite the circumstances, it actually felt very good.

"Authority isn't something you have; it is something you are."

The bishop stood up, and walked behind her now, putting his hands on her neck this time. His fingers expertly sought the perfect spots along her spine, the tingles threatening to drive her wild.

"Bishop," she asked through hastening breaths. "What are you-"

"I didn't give you permission to speak," the man said in a deep, husky voice. His hands sought their way into her hair now, powerful fingers caressing her scalp. "I see you dye your hair. That's not very conservative. You must be feeling a bit adventurous."

"Well, I-"

"That wasn't a question", he snapped, pulling her head back by her hair. His lips roughly met her neck, and he started to kiss her up and down her sensitive, exposed skin. Any further objections were cut off by choked gasps of pleasure.

Kelly's skin erupted in goosebumps as she realized what was happening. It was wrong! It was immoral! But what could she say? What would her husband think, waiting in the lobby just down the hall?

He now put his hands under her arms, clasping in front of her chest, brushing her breasts through her simple, modest blouse. The touch was electrifying, and against her will she felt her blood racing, and her nipples harden within their cotton and polyester confines. She started to wish she had worn a sports bra today, and whispered a silent prayer that she could handle what came next. But was this any time to be praying?

Leaning forward, he pushed her out of the chair so that she now lay chest-down on the desk. The chair was kicked away, forgotten. Bishop Stetman withdrew his hands from her front, and swept off the few items on his desk. The candy dish fell to the floor, bouncing silently on the thick carpet.

"Turn your head, Sister Harrison, I want you to see this," he commanded. She obeyed her priesthood leader, putting her cheek on the polished wood, and casting her hair aside. The now-exposed buttons on the back of her blouse soon found themselves the focus of his attention. Despite her new perspective, she felt more than saw the deft finger strokes that opened the buttons one after another with swift and precise movement.

Cool, conditioned air struck bare skin on her back, and she heard a snarl. She tensed as he saw what she had tried to hide with her clothing choices. "Sister Harrison, you are wearing provocative undergarments. Did you think I would never find out?" Sure enough, her lacy red bra was now exposed to his harsh, judgmental view. "You come here to discuss worthiness and you are wearing this?" He snorted in contempt and disdain. "for your iniquities, you will be suitably punished."

He pulled so hard on the clasp of the offending underwear that he nearly broke it. The force with which he opened the bra contrasted with the delicate, practiced grace with which he had opened her blouse. It fell limply to her sides, and her naked back was open to the bishop's view.

He leaned down until his breath touched her cheek and whispered "if you want a good review, you are going to do exactly what I want." Fear and excitement mingled in her heart now.

Strong hands reached through the folds of her top, brushing along her naked skin and questing for her breasts. Her tits were hard enough that she almost believed they could have engraved the desk.

Kelly pushed up on the desk as pleasure filled her body, and lust coursed through her. Arching her back, she left her blouse on the desk as skillful, strong hands sought and satisfied her womanly desires. The sensation was indescribable as her body reacted involuntarily to the stimulation.

A metal clink of a belt buckle was the only warning that he had made himself ready also. He pushed himself upon her doggy style, his left hand lifting her skirt up high while his right hand held her torso to his as he fondled her breasts with alternating gentle and powerful moves. Soon her flimsy panties were in his grasp.

"More indecent attire here, I see. I'll just have to deal with that." He hiked her skirt up around her waist as his powerful manhood sought its prize. The bishop lifted a foot up and used it to pull her panties all the way to the ground, and she stepped out of them immediately, lest she disappoint him with any delay.

Right hand still on her ever-more sensitive breasts, he used his left hand to position himself between her legs and expertly plunged in. She gasped in shock and delight as he pounded again and again in to her lubricated vagina, her pussy muscles contracting in rhythm with his thrusts.

"Whenever you come into the office" he said, his voice even despite the exertion, "you are mine." - Thrust -"A calling? Mine" - Thrust - "up for a sermon? Mine." Thrust. "That small man you married can borrow this pussy, but it is mine for the taking whenever I want. Nod if you understand." She could feel her climax building. It was so close! He suddenly stopped all motion of both hands and his deeply embedded cock. "Nod if you understand I said!"

Nodding her head fiercely, she gasped out "Yes! It is yours! Let me cum!"

"You will cum when I say you can. You will be good?" She nodded. "You will be back for tithing settlement next month?" A stronger nod. It was building! "One other thing; I get my trophy from today."

Sweat dripped from her forehead. "Yes! Yes, whatever you want!"

"Good girl." He resumed his vibrations and tit rubs with a passion and skill like never before and she exploded in pleasure. The convulsions wracked her whole body and left her gasping and exhausted. The experience was completed by his own grunting discharge of fluid into her pussy, stream after stream of sticky white semen coursing into her from behind, liberally splashing on her thighs and pouring down her legs.

The bishop dismounted and affixed his pants again. He sat in his own chair as though nothing had happened at all. She lowered and smoothed her skirt, and put back on her bra and blouse, suddenly very aware of her partial nudity in the bishop's office. She used some tissues to wipe the hot seed from her legs, but realized she was missing something.

"Where...where are my panties?"

Bishop Stetman casually opened a drawer on his desk, and she realized he held her red lace panties in his hand. He used them to wipe a few drops of semen from the desk, then put them into the desk drawer which to her amazement, held dozens more. The trophies!

"I believe that concludes this interview," he said, putting the dish of candy back in its spot. He handed her a sucker. "Be a good girl and tell your husband he will be meeting with my assistant. This room is only for the sisters. Especially those who need discipline."