Sigma Omega Sigma
Chapter 6

Copyright© 2012 by Mark Gander

BDSM Sex Story: Chapter 6 - Mark didn't know what it would really mean to join the college fraternity, Sigma Omega Sigma, until he actually pledged for it. Hell Week proved more heavenly than he could ever have thought, as he learned the true purpose of the secret society posing as a Greek organization.

Caution: This BDSM Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Fa/Fa   Ma/Ma   Mult   Consensual   Hypnosis   Magic   BiSexual   Military   School   Workplace   Post Apocalypse   Paranormal   Demons   Cuckold   Sharing   Slut Wife   Wife Watching   Wimp Husband   Incest   Mother   Son   Brother   Sister   InLaws   BDSM   DomSub   MaleDom   FemaleDom   Rough   Spanking   Gang Bang   Group Sex   Harem   Orgy   Polygamy/Polyamory   Swinging   Interracial   Anal Sex   Analingus   Exhibitionism   First   Oral Sex   Pregnancy   Squirting   Public Sex   Nudism   Politics   Violence  

The trip to the public library was especially nerve-wracking because I was still in the cassock, and despite the mustard stains (which Sister Nicole had been nice enough to wipe down a bit to make less obvious), I still very much resembled a Roman Catholic priest. I was halfway afraid that someone would try to get me to counsel them and I would feel almost like a fraud. I said almost because I suspected that the counseling that I could give would be a lot more sensible than anything that you could get from most of the clergy of any faith.

In any case, I decided that I would act as relaxed as I could, pretending to just be on a research assignment for the local parish or something, even picking something at least believable from a priest: a book on psychology, since I didn’t assume that priests just read religious literature. I feigned disinterest for a bit in anything or anyone around me, but, of course, I paid very good attention, as I couldn’t afford to miss opportunities. I just hoped that my act was believable enough.

Not even ten minutes later, I was tapped on the shoulder and turned around. It was a nun, of all things, and she was very confused by me. I could only guess that she was surprised to see me, since she probably knew most if not all of the priests in the parish. I shrugged, and since we were in an area that was somewhat more relaxed about the whole silence thing, I invited her to sit with me. She had with her a copy of Emily Dickinson poetry, of all things, which I found oddly appropriate for a nun. After all, didn’t Emily Dickinson die an old maid?

“Father? I didn’t quite catch your name? Are you a Jesuit?” the nun inquired, still a bit confused.

“Father Mark. Let’s leave it at that,” I smiled, though somewhat flirtatiously, just not too brazen about it ... it was intended to sound unintentional and playful.

“Okay, Father Mark. I’m Sister Amanda. Nice to meet you. I can’t say that I’ve ever heard of a Father Mark in this parish at all,” the thirtysomething nun answered, but something in her mood changed, becoming more relaxed, calmer, less guarded around me.

“No, I don’t believe that you would. I’ve only taken holy orders very recently indeed,” I replied in a way that was intended to sound embarrassed and awkward, as if forced to reveal something that I never meant to say about myself, “and, no, I’m not a member of the Society of Jesus, since you asked. I’m fresh out of seminary and have been ever since my engagement... ,” I let my eyes get a bit misty, “sorry, it’s a touchy subject. My fiancee. Great woman. It just wasn’t meant to be.”

“Very sorry. What happened?” the nun acted rather more empathetic, far less wary now.

“She ... broke off the engagement, because she discovered that she was pregnant by another man. She married him instead of me. She felt that it was the right thing to do by the child. Not a perfect woman, I understand, but she cared enough about her baby and I had to respect that. Yes, she cheated on me, but it ... was, while wrong, something that I had to forgive and I had to move on with my life. Hence my pursuit of the priesthood. I ... just ... I don’t want to move on and find another woman. I want to start over and do something special with my life.

“I think that God never intended my pain, but he used it for the greater good, for the betterment of His Church somehow. I hope to prove at least a better priest than I was a boyfriend. Also, I confess that I wasn’t chaste while dating her, so perhaps that was part of it. I led her into sin by fornicating with her and perhaps she just couldn’t stop with me,” I deliberately played up the pain and guilt.

“Oh, will you listen to yourself? What an absolute load of self-pitying, self-flagellating garbage! You’re as bad as I was, but it’s too late to change my mind and I’ve gone too far to start over again. I’m rusty with relationships, with love and all that jazz. It’s not too late for you, Father Mark. I don’t believe that God wants you for the priesthood. He wants you to be a father and a husband and raise children. Trust me on that, because I was as bad. Perhaps ... perhaps this is forward and certainly, it’s a sin, but it’s a sin in a greater cause.

“Like I said, it’s too late for me, but perhaps there is hope for you. You don’t have to worry about me. I will do my best to make penance, absolution, or whatever else for what I am about to do, but I think that God will understand why. If not, he’s a bit harsh for a husband who never consummates his marriage to his brides,” Sister Amanda said, falling for my gambit, hook, line, and sinker ... the old classic “save the old fool” routine.

Suddenly, Sister Amanda all but dragged me to a small corner of the library, it being more deserted at this hour than usual, and sliding down her panties while lifting her habit. I was a bit stunned, to be frank, but I didn’t resist, and before I knew it, my dick was buried inside her. We fucked for several more minutes, her excitement growing, even as my suspicions grew that she wasn’t what she seemed. What was the deal with her, anyway? No nun that I ever heard of would do this, and then the lightbulb clicked on ... she wasn’t that kind of “sister” at all. She was one of the Order!

“Sister Amanda, huh? Was this a test from certain people?” I tested my theory without giving away any critical information, of course.

“Leviathan’s tail reaches many corners, Brother Mark. In this case, he wishes to see you seed me and beget your spawn through me. I’m pleased and impressed that you caught on. Some men never would have, not until confronted with the obvious. Your powers of observation and deduction haven’t failed you at all. You’re right. I’m no nun, not in the least. So, having almost completed your task, why don’t you cum inside me and finish the job? I’m going to love reporting back to the Council with your cum inside my twat. My cuckold is going to love licking it up from the outside of my twat, though my other husbands might feel differently about it,” Amanda assured me, just as I exploded in her cunt and she creamed herself with delight.

“So, you have more than one husband, too?” I asked Amanda, truly curious now ... I seemed to recall something about that before, but Walter and Nicole didn’t mention any others, did they?

“Every Beta is married to at least one Sigma, sometimes more. However, that marriage is never legal or formal, at least not yet. A Beta’s first husband is always her cuckold, a submissive male especially chosen for that role. This just makes it easier, as he can formally claim the other husbands’ children as his own, after all. A Sigma’s first wife is always a submissive as well. This all helps keep the two organizations closely connected, by blood and family, no less. Mr. Shapiro is just one such case. My own cuckold is named Freddy Landers. He used to be a houseboy for Beta, but now he’s all mine, though I do share him more than you’d think.

 
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