Kerrigan Harper, Hot Mess Ch. 01

Chapter One

She wore a gray pencil skirt with a matching jacket, tailored just enough to help lead the eye away from a voluptuous figure. Her long, dark hair was pinned back from her face and neck, with a small gray pill-box hat perched on top. Black, silk stockings with a seem up the back of her leg and a pair of black leather heels with square toes completed the ensemble.

With stoic poise, she made her way through the church toward the gleaming wood of the confessionals. Entering the nearest, she closed the door behind her sat on the bench, resting her small black pocket book on her lap.

When the cover of divider was slid back, she began. "Forgive me Father, for I have sinned."

*

She was waiting at the door for him to come home, a glass of whiskey over ice held with both hands. "Welcome home, Jonathon my love," she said cheerfully once the door had opened and he strode briskly into the small, yet upscale apartment.

He scowled at her as he began to shrug off his jacket. "Kerrigan? Why are you here," he demanded, albeit tiredly as he then hung the jacket on the coat rack next to the door.

"You were to have a late night board meeting, so I thought that I would come over and make dinner for you." At his disgruntled tone, her gaze had promptly fallen to the floor.

"I've already eaten," he growled, loosening his tie and undoing the topmost button of his shirt.

"Oh, of course you have..." she murmured. "I should have known that it would be a dinner meeting. How silly of me."

He grunted in response, taking the whiskey from her. He then made his way into the living room and sat in the leather back chair in the far corner of the room.

"How was work?" she asked, following after him. "Father tells me that you are doing very well as an Executive within the bank."

Demurely, she knelt on the floor before him, carefully positioning her skirt about her so as not to wrinkle it. Then she began to untie his shoelaces.

"It was work." The ice clinked inside the glass as he took a drink.

"Yes, of course," she murmured.

Once his shoes had been removed, Kerrigan rose and carried them back into the front entryway. Behind her came the sound of ice in a glass as Jonathon downed the last of the whiskey.

He seemed to be especially agitated this evening, and nothing she had done seemed to please him. Even now, the delicious meal she had prepared was growing cold on the dining table.

Upon retuning to the living room, she silently took his empty glass from him and carried it to the wet-bar. As she poured him another drink, Kerrigan was trying to think of a way to please him.

As she returned the decanter to its place on the bar top, light reflected from the simple gold engagement band on her left hand. Although God and the Church would certainly disapprove, she and Jonathon were soon to be married...

With both hands, Kerrigan carried the glass back to Jonathon, kneeling on the floor before him once again.

He eyed her with disdain as he accepted the glass, promptly gulping that one down as well.

"What are you looking at?" he snarled, slamming the glass down on the side table.

"Nothing! You just seem so tense, is all," Kerrigan protested.

"Being watched will do that," he snapped. "Now go make yourself useful and clean up the other room."

Kerrigan's gaze dropped to the floor once again as she but her lower lip. "I only wish to please you," she murmured.

"Then you should try harder."

Kerrigan nodded in acknowledgment before reaching up for the belt about his waist.

Jonathon leaned back, hands resting on the arms of the chair as he watcher her. His face was expressionless.

The black leather belt yielded easily enough, but Kerrigan fumbled with the button on his slacks. When it finally gave way, the zipper seemed to open of its own accord. Gulping in apprehension, Kerrigan gently folded back the wool of Jonathon's slacks.

Beneath, he wore white boxer shorts. Yet they did nothing cover Jonathon's already quivering manhood, the pink flesh beginning to emerge from the opening in the front.

Licking her lips, Kerrigan hesitated for just a moment before leaning forward. Both hands held back the cotton of his boxer as she lowered her face to his groin.

Tentatively, she stuck out her tongue and touched it to Jonathon's cock. The skin of it was super smooth and warm the touch. Almost hot even.

Gently, she worked her tongue up to the head of his shaft. It was already beginning to stiffen and his foreskin to retract.

When her tongue made an exploratory swirl of the tip, Jonathon groaned and shifted so that he was closer to the edge of the chair. Taking that as a form of encouragement, Kerrigan continued.

Cupping the quickly growing erection with one hand, she worked her tongue up and down underside the length of it. Each time she returned to the head, her tongue would make a lap of the tip.

It did not take long Jonathon's cock to reach full length. It was all of five inches and not overly broad, yet it throbbed in anticipation. Holding the pulsing erection with both hands, Kerrigan then took the head into her mouth. As she sucked and caressed it with her tongue, she ran her hand up and down the rest of the shaft.

Jonathon's eyes closed as Kerrigan worked to please him, groaning occasionally.

After time, he rest a hand on the back of her head, fingers twining through her hair. He then used the position to force her to take the full length of his erect cock into her mouth.

With each thrust, he angled for the back of throat. Each time, he would strike her uvula and she would gag reflexively, and her eyes watering. He thrust all the harder then, his grunts becoming growled curses until he shoved her away from him. Kerrigan fell back onto the coffee table, Jonathon springing to over top of her.

Despite her lack of resistance, he painfully seized her by the wrists and pinned her arms down and behind her, using his tie to bind them together as well as to a leg of the coffee table.

Kerrigan could only lie there wide-eyed and quivering as Jonathon loomed above her. "It is about time that you showed me deference," he snarled, tearing open her blouse. Several of the small, white buttons went flying through the air.

He then unsnapped her brassiere, allowing Kerrigan's breasts to bounce free. Greedily, Jonathon palmed them both and squeezed them cruelly. Her breasts were rather large, the milky flesh protruding from between his splayed fingers.

Kerrigan moaned ever so slightly as he continued to grope her. She found that she enjoyed the rough treatment. Jonathon smiled menacingly before then needlessly tearing her skirt open as well.

Kerrigan fidgeted as her remaining undergarments had been made visible, but Jonathon failed to notice. Pushing aside the crotch of her panties, he briefly cupped her sex before pushing a finger up inside of her.

Kerrigan gasped and was still, the sensation totally new to her. Jonathon wiggled his finger about a moment, causing her to whimper. But not in pain.

Jonathon withdrew his finger, his lips twisting into a sneer. "Whore," he spat. "Dirty, filthy whore." And with that, Jonathon jammed his cock deep inside of her.

Holding her by her legs, he kept them splayed wide, his fingers leaving red marks on her creamy skin.

Aggressively, he rutted. Flesh slapped together loudly as he grunted, concerned for his pleasure and his pleasure alone. Kerrigan's whimpers of discomfort only exciting him more, serving to whip him into a frenzy.

"This is what you deserve," he growled.

Moments later, Kerrigan could feel his cock begin to swell before he quickly pulled out of her. No sooner than had he done so, then the organ convulsed and a milky substance splattered across her belly and legs.

Jonathon collapsed backward, resting against the arm chair. He breathed heavily from his exertion, but said nothing.

Kerrigan remained sprawled across the coffee table, looking blankly up at the ceiling, as Jonathon's sticky cum grew cold against her skin.

At last, Jonathon untied her hands. "Clean yourself up, and then get out," he said simply, striding off for his bedroom.

Seeing his disdain for her, Kerrigan began to cry, the tears causing her make-up to run. Carefully, she got to her feet and slowly walked toward the front door. She felt torn, and was no doubt bleeding.

With a silent grimace, she pulled on her coat, grateful that it came down to her knees, and cinched the waist tightly.

Then, she left the apartment.

*

The doorman looked her over with concern as she stepped out of the building. "Is everything alright, Miss Harper?" he asked, making to hail for a taxi-cab.

"Oh, uh, yes," she sniffled, dabbing at her eyes with a handkerchief. "Mister Tanner and I had an argument, is all."

"Well, don't take it personally," he said as a taxi pulled up to the curb. "Mister Tanner works long hours, it's sure to put him out of sorts every now and again. It will do him good to have a lady about the place full-time." He then opened the back door to the hover car, offering her a hand in.

"Yes, you're right," Kerrigan answered quietly, accepting his help into the car.

"You have a good night, ma'am," he said as he closed the door behind her.

"Where to, miss?" the driver asked as he studied her with the rear-view mirror.

"Home, please."

It was several days later before Jonathon finally phoned her. "I'm calling off the wedding," he said simply. "It will be boring to spend the rest of my life married to a lousy lay."

When Thomas Harper, Chairman and CEO of Harper Financial, snatched up the receiver, his expression promptly changed from concern, to contempt.

"I see," he said quietly after listening to Jonathon speak. "I thank you for bringing this to my attention."

Then he put down the phone.

"Jonathon told me the truth."

"I was weak, Daddy. I only wished to please him!" she began.

"You not only slander my name and that of my business, but you slander that of my forefather's as well. They flew the drop ships of those who settled this world!"

"Daddy, I'm sorry," she pleaded.

"You not only lay with a man outside of wedlock, but multiple men at that. As if you were some common prostitute."

Her mother, who stood back and watched the exchange, burst into tears and promptly fled the room.

"You are a disgrace," he spat, spittle flying from his lips. "You will leave my sight and this house, and never return."

"No, Daddy, please! He lied!" she cried. "He lied!"

"Why should I believe the words of a whore?" he snarled, seizing her by the arm and dragging her to the door. "Now, begone!"

*

"Miss Harper, just because you were engaged to be married, was no excuse to not have a chaperone present. It was uncivilized for you to have tempted him so. He is not solely to blame for this carnal transgression."

Her eyes were wide as the Priest spoke. "Are you defending him?"

"My dear, accusations could ruin Mister Tanner's reputation, and that of his family as well. They have already harmed you and yours."

"This cannot possibly be happening!"

"Miss Harper, you will calm down and be silent or I will not help you."

She glared at his silhouette in anger, but kept silent.

"I can make arrangements for you to go to a convent. The Sisterhood of Sorrows. It is off-world and near to the edge of the system. Through prayer and penitence, you may just find absolution."

Her contorted expression and puffy, red eyes made it clear that she did not appreciate his offer.

"Whether you choose to pursue this, or seek solace, your life here as you knew it is no more," he said flatly. "Only you can decide this, Miss Harper."

Fresh tears welled up and streamed down her face. "I thought that he loved me," she said sadly. "We were to be married in two weeks."

"All of us face temptation, my child. Sadly, even the best of us can fall prey to it. Only God can help you to find true absolution. I am merely his mortal servant."

"Yes, Father, I understand," she quietly.

*

Once Kerrigan had been installed into an alcove near the rectory, Father Sanders picked up the receiver of the black rotary phone sitting on his desk. "She is here," he said once the other end had engaged.

"See that she does not return."

"Understood."

As Father Sanders replaced the receiver, a cruel smile twisted his thin lips. This could prove to be financially beneficial indeed.

Chapter Two

Kerrigan sat with her hands folded neatly in her lap as she stared out the window of the hover car as it carried her to the space port. Her reflection stared back forlornly, all pale and wan. The tinted windows of the car only made her appear even more sickly.

She had eaten very little during her stay at the church while she awaited the arrival of the hyperspace transport. When Kerrigan was not kneeling in prayer, she slept.

"As part of your contrition, as imperfect as it will be," Father Sanders had explained quietly over Kerrigan's bowed head in the beginning. "You must discard all remnants of your former life."

So Kerrigan had removed her tailored suit, the leather shoes, and the silk stocking, and placed them inside of a small cardboard box that had been provided for that purpose. She then shrugged on a simple, floral print dress that had been donated to the church. It was at least one size too big.

Then, she removed the silvered combs from her hair, the long, dark locks tumbling down her shoulders to her middle back. They had been a gift from her mother for Kerrigan's eighteenth birthday. Now, they too went into the box.

Once she had come to the golden engagement band on her finger, she hesitated.

Anger bubbled up inside of her as tears welled in her eyes. It had been all her fault. She had believed that he loved her...

Wiping the hot tears from her cheeks, Kerrigan dropped the ring into the box and shoved the lid down on top of it. Not long after, Father Sanders had come to collect, and she never saw any of those items again.

*

The colony world of Eden had need for only a single space port, and a small one at that. The hyperspace transport arrived at roughly sixteen month intervals, only sending down a solitary drop ship. So few came and went, mostly those on Church business, such as Kerrigan and Father Sanders.

At the sound of the Priest clearing his throat, Kerrigan quickly turned to face him. Her face flushed with embarrassment at having ignored him. "I'm sorry, Father," she said quietly.

"It's quite alright, my child. I was merely describing the hydroponic gardens kept by the Sisterhood of Sorrows," the middle-aged man smiled.

"Oh," she murmured.

"It can be an over-whelming experience to leave your home for the first time in order to begin a new life."

Kerrigan bowed her head.

"I can provide you with a sedative," he said simply. "Many first time travelers find the trip by drop ship to be very disconcerting. Mild sedation helps to relieve the discomforts quite well."

At Kerrigan's nod, Father Sanders produced a small pill bottle and a vial of water.

"Do not drink too much!" he warned as she made to drain the vial. "The pill works best on an empty stomach. As does the trip by drop ship."

Savoring the last bit of liquid on her tongue, Kerrigan replaced the lid and handed the vial back.

"That's a good girl."

*

The first sensation that she had become aware, was a fuzzy sort of numbness in her extremities, making her arms and legs feel cumbersome. In addition, her eyelids felt heavy and her mouth felt as if it were packed with cotton.

The last thing that Kerrigan had remembered was stepping out of the black car and making her way to the drop ship. Not much bigger than the car itself, the ship's hull was of a shining metal that still gleamed in the overcast sunlight.

Kerrigan had climbed up the step of the access hatch to find that the inside also resembled that of a car. There was a seat in the front for the pilot to control the ship, and four bucket seats in the back for passengers.

Once Father Sanders had stored her single rucksack of meager clothes in the overhead compartment, he then made to help her fasten the five-point belt that would secure her into the seat. "Excuse me, my dear..." Sanders trailed off as he gestured to the belt that was to come up between her legs.

Kerrigan felt her face flush yet again as she re-arranged her skirt to accommodate the belt, which coincidentally held the buckled that the other four were to fasten into. With a bit of fumbling on both their parts, the harness had finally been fastened and tightened down snugly.

By that point, the anxiety had been building and Kerrigan could feel her heartbeat thudding inside her chest, as if the organ were trying to force its way through. Her breaths grew shallow as she began to hyperventilate, her vision blurring.

"Calm yourself, my child," Father Sanders said gently as he secured his own harness. "It will all be over soon." Kerrigan could barely hear him over the pounding in her ears.

Once the engines had fired up and the ship had begun ascend, Kerrigan had passed out.

She made to move, to roll onto her side, but could not. Her hands had been tied above her head and anchored to the bed frame. Her pleas for help were muffled by a gag in her mouth, while a blindfold forbade her from being able to see.

"Hush, my child. Peace be with you," Father Sanders said quietly.

She felt the bed shift as he settled his weight onto it, sitting on the edge. When he reached out to touch her face, it startled her.

"This is nothing against you personally, Miss Harper, please understand that."

Her pulse pounded in her ears as she strained to discern the Priest's movements and motives. There was a creak as he shifted his weight again, reaching for something on a nearby table. "I know that this is not the path that you would have chosen for yourself, my dear. But it is what it is."

He trailed his fingers down her neck, to her breasts, and then down across her stomach and over her hips. He stopped at the hem of her skirt, and she felt the cool kiss of metal against her inner thigh as he began to use a pair of scissors to cut away her clothes. Her protests were garbled, but he would have ignored them all the same. His attention was focused solely on the task at hand, and the goals that they were leading to.

He only considered himself to be finished once all of her clothing had been cut away, leaving her naked on the simple mattress. Her legs were unrestrained, and she held them folded close to her body, attempting to cover her nakedness. It only served to make her that much more appealing to him.

He chuckled throatily, running his hands along her body, enjoying the goose-prickles that had erupted over the surface of her skin. They made her nipples stand at rigid attention. He fondled her breasts for several moments, marveling at their size and density as he alternated between holding them in his palms, and running his thumb over and around her nipples and areola. Kerrigan only whimpered and tried to shrink back from his touch.

The bed shifted again as he crawled into it, hovering over top of her. "You are beautiful, my dear. Truly," he said huskily, leaning down to take a nipple into his mouth. When she squirmed, he pinched it with his teeth. "This will go much better for you if you cooperate," he said simply.

He returned to sucking on her nipple, running his tongue over it, as a hand slipped to between her thighs. She felt an immediate tingle of pleasure just before Father Sanders slipped a finger into her sex. Meanwhile, while his thumb began to circle her clit -- similar to the path of his tongue over her nipple.

Soon, a second finger joined the first, beginning to move in and out of her in a thrusting motion.

Kerrigan whimpered more plaintively as she felt herself begin to yield to his touch. It was wrong, twisted. An egregious sin, even.