Slave to Religion

Clara Hunt
 Copyright 2014 by Clara Hunt
Published by Clara Hunt

All characters in this book are 18 years of age older.

This erotic short story contains material some readers may find objectionable,
including dubious consent, rough sex, pegging and hardcore religious humiliation of
Muslims and other hardcore elements of BDSM.
 I will never forget the day Mistress stormed our mosque and took over. She was
barely covered, and used our shock of her nakedness to lay claim to our lives, our will.
But the most shocking of all was that she had a cock, a giant, incredibly thick phallus
proudly displayed, curved heavenward, one she had named Allah.
Looking back, I think that was the most shocking of all. None of us had stood up
to her, not even at first. We are a peaceful people, and would never surrender a place as
holy as this to such a monster.
No matter what.
She had us all marked with golden lip rings- tongue rings for the men. When we
asked why, she lewdly stated it was because men could eat pussy better, and it would
encourage us not to talk to strangers. She had replaced our restroom necessities with
pages of the holy book. Those who decided to go without proper hygiene were put out on
an explicit display for the public. Once was enough for all eight of us to swallow our
pride. Allah understood suffering.
We had hoped and prayed for salvation. But now… after weeks of servicing Allah
and Mistress here, we were breaking.
She had brought in pork and wine, which we were to consume once a day or face
starvation. She called our faith Pisslam, and used our alms-collection box as her own
personal chamber pot. And she made us watch her. Every time. As time went by, you’d
think we would have gotten used to her cruelty… some things we suffered through in
silence, like eating and drinking and her constant offensive slander, but some things, no
matter how much they happened, none of us could build a thick skin against.
Prayer was five times a day. Each time we were expected to pray her modified
horrible prayer. But one out of those five times, while you were bent in prayer, or if you
were lucky, before prayer, she’d show up and we… We’d have to do more than pray. We
had to worship her fake cock, Allah. She always said faith was empty without physical
commitment, and she held all of us to that.
It was the waiting that made it so awful. The anticipation. Five men, five prayers.
You knew once a day you would have to serve, but unless you prayed four times already
that day without being called on, you had no idea when it would be your turn.
“Do you know what time it is?” She asked, the heels of her boots clicking against
the tiled mosque floor as she approached me. Of course I knew what time it was, she
wouldn’t bother to ask if I did not already know the answer.
I didn’t open my mouth, I didn’t have to. Through my peripheral vision I saw the
tanned cock attached and swinging between her legs.
“I asked you a question.” She insisted.
“Yes.” I nodded, keeping my head low.
“Well get to it, then.” The smug smile on her face made me blush. I could ignore
where she stood, and turn my body in the direction of Mecca like I should… but all that
would earn me is a spank on the ass before she made me worship “Allah.”
I lowered myself to my knees before her and folded over myself, arms stretched
above my head. I could not see her, but I did not have to, to know she was stroking that
big cock with her pale hand.
“Do you remember your prayer?”
The truth was that I didn’t. I refused to let myself ever remember something so
horrible. Even if the punishment was to feel the wrath of Allah directly.
 “I do not.” I shook my head and spoke low.
Her silence made me uneasy, and I finally looked up and saw her grinning at me.
Outside the mosque, everyone bowed and chanted, and I alone, it seemed, was forced into
silence.
She got on her knees before me, her hand tangled into my dark hair as she forced
my lips over the silicon phallus.
“Worship your Allah. Repeat after me: Cock is the greatest. Cock is the greatest.”
I curled my fingers into fists as the tip of the toy moved my lips as I hesitated to
repeat after her.
“Cock is the greatest, cock is the greatest.”
Her fingers twisted into my locks and pulled my head over Allah, taking the toy
entirely in my mouth. It stretched my jaw, and my mouth watered around. I tried to keep
myself relaxed so I wouldn’t gag around it. She loved it when I gagged. My eyes began to
water before she at last pulled it out from me. Thick strands of saliva clung between my
mouth and it before she wiped it against my mouth.
“I bear witness that there is none worthy of worship but Allah.” Her hands slid
over the thick shaft as she stroked it.
My jaw was sore as I repeated the words, knowing my punishment was near.
“I bear witness that this cock is Allah.” Her expression darkened in that pleasant
way it does when she is finished with the foreplay and ready to get down to business. My
insides clenched in anticipation.
“Repeat it.” She said, after I wouldn’t, then grabbed my hair and shoved my face
against the wet dick. “Or face its wrath.”
“I bear witness that this cock is Allah.” I sighed, squeezing my eyes against the
wetness as my spit smeared over my face.
She let me go and stood up. It was time.
“Keep your forehead to the ground.” She growled as she finally stepped behind
me. She yanked up my garbs and I blushed, feeling so exposed and humiliated that she
could see me there.
Her hands spread my ass cheeks and I tensed my shoulders. Adrenaline throbbed
in the base of my skull and I knew what was coming. I also knew there was no way to
stop it.
“Come for cock.” She said. I gasped as the tip of the tanned cock named Allah
pressed hard against my asshole. She had been tormenting me for about a week, and my
body’s resistance to such things had become weak.
I cried out as the tip slid in, stretching apart my tight ring. She reached around my
hips and wrapped her hand around my own dick.
“Oh you’re already hard. Looks like you really do love your God after all.”
Allah slid into me another inch, sending another ripple up my spine. My muscles
had already submitted, though, and the tenseness faded from within me as her hand
stroked my foreskin.
Her hand slapped down hard on my ass. “Pray!” She yelled, her voice echoed in
the mosque. My face burned as I hoped no one could hear her.
“Cum for cock,” I whispered as sweat began to bead up on my forehead and mat
down my hair. Allah, forgive me. I thought, have mercy.
She thrust her hips and Allah slid home, now base-deep into my body, his
thickness stretching me while she continued to jack me off. I would not be able to keep
up this righteous façade for much longer. Her hands stroking over me and this whole
submission to Allah had, for the first time since she began this torture, hit me right in the
heart.
She was never going away. This was worship. This was true religion, the naked,
rawness of being on display and at the service of Allah. To be used by him, for him,
whatever he needs.
Her nails bit into my ass cheeks as she let go of my dick and held on, her hips
thrusting now with more rhythm.
“Cum for Allah.” She said, her voice husky and low and deep as she spanked me
some more.
“Cum for Allah!” She yelled again.
“Please,” I muttered. Pressure in my balls had built up and my cum was going to
leak out on its own if I was unable to take care of it myself.
My skin stung as she spanked me again. “You’re nearly done with your prayer,
pet. Just three more lines. Say it.”
“Cum for Allah.” I gasped. “Please, let me cum for Allah.” I could barely believe
the words coming out of my own mouth.
“Open your Quran.”
I fished through my garb for the book. She made me carry it with me everywhere
I went, so whenever someone asked me to reference a verse or show them the word of
Allah they had to see the defiled book.
The leather cover had hardened, the pages were now brittle and crinkled as I laid
it beneath me and opened to a random page. Each turn of paper earned a hard thrust
deeper into my ass.
She let me take care of my needs whenever I needed to. The only exception was if
I ever wanted to masturbate or cum, I had to collect it all on this book. This Quran was
given to me by my father. Most of the pages now stuck together from the shortcomings
and failings of my body.
“Cock is the greatest,” I recited on my own. Allah lingered inside of me, and my
body pulsated around it with exhaustion and anticipating, on the edge and rim of ecstasy.
“Please.” I asked again, my own voice was humiliating, to hear me beg- a woman- for
release.
“Stroke yourself and offer your cum to Allah.” She said.
It was embarrassing to be so grateful for something so intimate. But I just tried to
shove it down and not think of it as embarrassing. I gathered my robe aside and submitted
to Allah.
I opened my body to her cock, and to my own pleasure as it coursed through me.
I’m only human, I thought meekly as my eyes slid shut.
“Say the final line as you cum. Scream it, so all my little slaves can hear you.”
I clenched my jaw as I stroked myself, now all of the embarrassment coming forth
but my body didn’t care about it. It needed release, and not even I could deny it that.
“There is nothing greater than… Allah.”
It burst through me, short and hot and fast as my body trembled. I watched the
white cum stream onto the pages, I carefully guided my shaft so none would land
anywhere else, and felt guilty, and relieved, and vibrant, but also defeated as I watched
the pages absorb the glob of cum.
My muscles ached from all the strain as I caught my breath, my balls felt empty.
She slid Allah out of my body, which somehow coaxed another wave of pleasure and
drop of cum from me. I watched in terror as it landed on the mosque floor.
I hoped she wouldn’t see, but I should have known better. No one could hide
anything from her.
“What is that?” She asked, pointing with her finger. I began to stutter an apology,
but before I could say much of anything, she grabbed my hair and yanked me around,
shoving my face to the ground so I could stare at it.
Like I was an animal.
“Did you spill your seed? Lick it up. I will not have your filth defiling Allah’s
temple.”
Cum tasted horrible. I didn’t want to eat it up, not even my own. I whimpered,
and she leaned down, so her lips pressed against my ear. “If you don’t, you will consume
your weight in pork and wine tonight for dinner.”
My face burned as I stuck out my tongue, straining and pointed to reach the drop
of my white cum.
“Quick, before it dries.”
My attempt to lap p the cum smeared some of it on the tile. I licked faster to get it
all up, trying desperately not to think about what I was doing.
Her hand stroked through my locks, she hummed in approval, watching me.
“Now you need to be punished. Hey, Slut.” She called out, and I looked to where
she called and then immediately shut my eyes.
There were women who served in the mosque before she took over. She had them
tear off their veils and display their naked bodies everywhere they went, and had taken
their names and called them horrible slang words- Slut, Whore and Bitch. Everyone in
town knew by the golden rings in their lips who they served, and what would happen
should anyone outside of the mosque so much as lay a finger on them.
Still, turning my eyes away from a naked woman was deeply engraved in my
head. Though I knew the moment I did it, I would be punished.
“Come here. He’s been a bad boy and needs to be punished. How would you like
to sit on his face and let him eat your pussy?”
Despite her dark complexion I could see her cheeks flush with blood. Slut averted
her gaze, then slowly nodded. “Will it please Allah?”
“It will please him greatly.”
Slut nodded and I grimaced.
“Roll over on your back like a good slave.” She rose to her feet as Slut
approached me. “Now you’re going to lick and suck her pussy real good now, and make
her cum as many times as she wants. You are not to touch yourself or her with your hands
no matter what. Do you understand?”
“Yes,” I said, trying not to look at Slut.
She squinted suspiciously. “Look at her. She’s a beautiful woman with a sexy
body. There is no shame in that. It turns you on, doesn’t it? To see her curves, her big tits
and juicy ass.”
Slut’s face turned red as she looked away. She moved to cover herself, but then
her arms quickly dropped.
 “Sit on his face, facing his feet. Move however you need to in order to cum, you
got that, Slut?”
Slut looked at her and nodded.
“Good. Your submission pleases Allah.”
I laid on my back as Slut stood over me, her legs on either side of my face. I could
smell her folds, slick and wet already with excitement, and I felt my own stirring up again
as her hips moved even closer, until at last her pussy closed in over my lips.
She wiggled her hips against me as I stuck out my tongue to please her. Her juices
were sweet on my tongue, despite my distaste and embarrassment of being used by a
woman in such a way.
“Suck my clit.” She gasped. I watched her dark, long hair flip back as she
moaned. I suckled her swollen nub into my mouth and flicked my tongue over it while I
did so. Sometimes the Mistress made us please her this way, too, and she had taught me a
couple things.
Her hands fell onto my chest, her feet and legs felt as though they were curling
around my head. Her smooth shaven legs began to tremble and I felt her nether lips begin
to swell.
“I’m… I am going to…” Her voice was airy before she let out a soft moan. Her
walls collapsed around my lips, as though they were trying to suck my tongue into her
wet entrance. Her cries of pleasure echoed through the mosque as her hips twitched
against my face.
Her juices ran down my cheeks, as she sat up and rolled over onto the floor on her
back, panting hard. I watched her, though I felt I should look away, I did not want to, and
the sight of her beautiful heaving breasts and dark nipples was enticing.
“Good, good.” Mistress smiled, her voice cutting through the silence and
reminding us that she was still there. I turned my gaze away from the woman named Slut.
“You like that, don’t you? Pleasuring a woman. Sex is fun for us, too. It’s not all
about just getting your dick wet.”
Oh, Allah, was she going to make me eat the others, too? I hoped not, I was
already exhausted and dehydrated.
“You’re excused, Slut. Go clean yourself up and get ready for dinner.”
Before she left, Slut turned her body to Mistress and bowed her head low to the
floor. “Thank you, Allah.” She didn’t even give me a second glance as she sauntered off.
I watched her hips sway with each step.
“You want some more?” Mistress asked. “Cause I’ve got two other girls with
pussies dying to be eaten.”
“Oh, please, Mistress. I’m thirsty and hungry, please let me rest for a while?”
She stared at me for a while, deep in thought. I hoped she considered letting me
wash up. Slut’s pussy juice had been absorbed by my facial hair and I could smell it still.
“Come along, pet.” She grabbed the chain that was attached to my neck as a
makeshift leash. “We need to fill you up on more pork and wine before you’re worthy to
taste another pussy.”
…
 About the Author

Clara Hunt is a young woman who’s had more sexual adventures than most have
in a lifetime. From vanilla romance to taboo incest, there’s not a fantasy she hasn’t
indulged… or isn’t willing to, and she wants to share all of them, in their scorching,
steamy detail… with you.

Follow Clara on Twitter @ClaraFantasies

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