Emerson “Blesses Her Throat” – Feast of St. Blaise 1

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In February, most Catholics are aware of the feast of St. Blaise.  It’s two long white candles tied with a red ribbon to form an “X” and the top part of the X is braced against the parishioner’s neck, the priest holds the bottom part of the X, giving a blessing from St. Blaise for throat ailments and “treating objects caught in the throat.”

And, my friends, this is when I fell down the rabbit hole.  I hope you enjoy this 🙂


“Come here, bad girl.  My naughty little church minx.”

Assuming she’d be giving him a blow job, she crawled up to him, unclasping her arms to cup his balls, the other hand grasping his hot, silky length.

“Uh-uh, who said you could break form?”  His dark eyebrows furrowed.

She pulled her hands away, quickly clasping them behind her again.  “Sorry.  I just—”

“You just thought you’d do what you wanted.  You follow orders, girl.”

“Do you remember what this is?”  He held up the white candled “X”.

“It’s for the Blessing of the Throats.”

“Yes.  Good girl.  The Feast of St. Blaise, it’s usually the second weekend in February.  St. Blaise was known for ‘treating objects caught in the throat.’”  He paused for effect.

She smirked at him, unable to hold back the amusement of the wording.

“Bad girl. 

It is also a blessing for any ailments of the throat as well.  But I think for our purposes today, I’d like to focus on objects caught in the throat.” 

Still holding the candles in one hand, he stroked his cock with the red stole, the silky fabric gliding softly up and down his penis.  His nostrils were flared and his balls tightened close to his body.

Handing her the candled cross, he said, “Hold the top of the X to your throat, just as the priest does when he’s blessing you. I’m going to fuck your face.  Keep your mouth open and I’ll direct your head and my cock.”

“Yes, Sir.  Just…be…please be aware of my need to breathe.”

He rolled his eyes at her, exhaling loudly.  “Of course, dear.  I need you to stay alive, and breathing is a very important part of that equation.  You’ll find that I’m well aware of how to keep you safe and breathing.

Now, open that fucking mouth of yours and let me keep it occupied.” 

She held the cold, hard, wax white candles to her throat, just as many priests had done every February since she was a wee toddler.  The smell of sulfur transported her back in time; and closing her eyes reverently, she swore she could see her old Catholic church, St. Anne’s.

“How do our rituals begin, girl?”  His fingers brutally pinched her nipples, causing her to flinch and gasp.

She swallowed.  “Bless me, Father, for I have sinned.”

Emerson responded in his rote priest voice, “How long has it been since your last confession, my child?”

“It has been four days since my confession, Father.”

He swiped his wet cock along her lips, his salty come coating them, before saying, “What was your sin and your penance?”

“I yelled fuck you at you in anger, Father.”

He tsked loudly.  “A very grave sin indeed.  I hope your priest punished your little ass severely.  What was your punishment, bad girl?”  He slapped his hot penis on each of her facial cheeks.

“I was spanked with a wooden spoon and made to kneel on rice.”

“Mmmm, seems a very fitting punishment.  Did it do the job?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Do you have any sin that you need to confess to me, anything I should know before we proceed?” 

Tomorrow I’ll share another snippet:)

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