The Taste of Sin Ch. 01 by AugustBreeze 4281

THE TASTE OF SIN

Chapter 1: The Summer Job

All the characters and situations are fictional. All the characters are above the age of consent. Any similarities with real people or places are simply coincidental.

The school year was nearing an end, and I wasn't doing well. My grades were falling, and with the final year report in my hands now, I wasn't eager to show it to my parents. A heavy sense of dread and anxiety settled in my chest as I wandered around on my skateboard the whole afternoon, pretending not to care but fighting waves of worry and guilt with every push. As it was getting dark already, I knew I had to go home now. Not showing up would be much worse than just bad grades, but every push of my board felt heavy with fear. However, I found myself delaying, hoping somehow my anxiety would fade.

I opened the front door, and I heard my mom. ''Ohh, where have you been all day?''

''Mom, I...''

''Oh, I get it.'' She interrupted me. ''Celebrating the end of another school year, with your friend, right? I mean, I get it. You don't have much of these left, so enjoy them while they last. But... show us. Come on, boast about your grades.'' Mom said in excited words as Dad came out of the living room, for a second at least, leaving his football.

Now, to make things clear. I was never a bad student. I always had good grades. But since last year, it went kinda downhill. And this year? I almost failed. I really fucked up this time. My chest tightened with shame and regret as I handed my report to my mom's eager hands, dreading her reaction more with each second. She took it and looked into it for a good minute, her expression shifting from anticipation to confusion to disbelief as she read.

''What... what is this? Quinn, what is this?!''

''Mom...''

"Oh, don't 'Mom' me! This is unacceptable, Quinn!" She passed the report to Dad. "Well, look at how 'great' our son is doing at school."

''Mom, please... I.. I will do better next year. I swear.''

"You'd better!" Dad's voice snapped. "Or you can look for another place to live." He tossed the paper onto the table.

''Dad...'' I opened my mouth, but didn't finish.

''Don't tempt me, Quinn!''

I turned to mom. ''Mom?'' I looked at her.

''No, Quinn. I agree with your father. You will not just slack around in this house. And if you don't like the rules, you can go and try to live by yourself.''

Dad came back from the living room once more. ''Well said, honey. And when we're at it. That slacking of yours. It's over now. You will get a summer job this year.''

''Dad...''

''End of discussion!''

After that, I went upstairs to my room, thinking that it had gone even worse than I had imagined. I went to bed right away, although I had a problem falling asleep, thinking about what my future has in store for me.

''Don't you think we overdone it?'' Quinn's mom said to his dad downstairs some minutes later.

''No. Absolutely no. He needs to learn a lesson. Life will not go easy on him. It's for his own good.''

''Okay... you're probably right.''

''And by the way... that summer job? It's already taken care of. I called John, and he said there's a lot of work that needs to be done.''

''Really? I don't know George...''

''But I know. He won't earn much, but he will learn a lesson, and that's more important. And who could teach him a lesson better than Father John.''

''Yeah, that's true.'' She sat next to George. ''Great idea, honey.'' She said and kissed him.

The next morning, they told me the news. And I was to enter my first job right this afternoon.

I wasn't happy with it at all. But after all, I could have ended up worse. It was around two o'clock when I arrived at the local church.

''Hello? Is anybody here?!''

''Don't scream in the house of god, BOY!'' A powerful, deep voice said behind me.

''Oh, I'm sorry, Father. I'm here to...''

"I know why you're here. You're late."

He passed me, eyes burning, then stopped and turned. "Well, what are you waiting for, boy?"

I hurried after him.

"You're going to have to learn to listen," Father John said, voice low and steady.

He led me to the garden behind the church. "Here's your first task. Everything you need is in the toolshed."

"So... what do I do?"

He looked at me with angry, burning eyes. ''Don't coy with me, boy. You listen and listen well. You will take care of this garden from now on. Starting with mowing it. And you will do it properly. Or else, not getting paid will be your least worry!'' With that, Father John left me there. His threat hanging in the air. Although he was younger than my dad, he was an old-school priest, so he wouldn't have a problem with making me kneel and pray for hours or whip me with a switch. Essentially, all the things the teachers are prohibited from doing these days. That's why I took it seriously and made my way to the shed.

I took out the old mowing machine and an old can that still had some gasoline in it. To my surprise, the mowing machine started on the first try.

The grass was long and thick after years of neglect, so it went hard and slow. After I was done, I sat down, spent. My shirt was soaked with sweat, so I took it off with all the effort I had left in me. In that moment, Father John came. He was looking around and holding a Diet Coke. When his eyes circled the garden, they turned to me. They were brown and commanding. Something about them felt to me somewhat... predatory.

''You've done a good job today, Quinn.'' Father John said. ''Here, I brought you something to freshen up.'' He handed me the Coke.

''Thank you, Father,'' I said and opened the can. It sprayed all over me. ''Holy fuu...'' I stopped. ''Oh, sorry, Father.'' He nodded, but I saw his judging look. But I also saw in that look... something. Like he was amused by what had happened to me. ''How Christian of him,'' I said quietly to myself. For now.

I spent the rest of the week working on the garden. Mowing it, weeding it out, and I even started repairing the wooden fence that was all rotten. My dad helped me get the planks for it. The summer was at its fullest, so I spent most of my time there topless. I joked in my thoughts sometimes that the nuns would be checking me over since I could already see my body toning a bit from all the work, yet the only one watching me was Father John. More frequently than I would be comfortable with. But I guess he had to, since he was my boss.

After my first week, Father John came to me. ''Well, you've put a lot of work into it. I'm certain you won't slacken in your work effort. Anyway, here's your money for the first week, you surely deserve it.''

''Thank you, Father.'' I said accepting my pay.

''You're welcome, Quinn. Rest tomorrow, you will need it.'' He said and laid his hand on my bare shoulder. ''And by the way... I hope I will see you on Sunday.'' He added.

I stammered for an excuse. ''Well...''

He gave me a burning look. ''I hope I will see you there!'' He said again... so commanding. It sends shivers down my spine.

''Yes. Sure. I will be here.''

''Good...'' He said. He wanted to say more, but cut it off halfway. Then he left.

I went home, and after I showered, I fell straight to bed. On Saturday, I hung around the house, and to my surprise...e... I missed working in the garden.

Come Sunday, my mom was surprised that I was coming with her to church.

''You never go with me to the church. Why so suddenly?''

''Well, I kinda promised Father John. And I also need to check something out in the garden. For tomorrow, you know?''

''Oh, Quinn. I have to say I'm surprised. Pleasedly surprised. This job really suits you.'' My mom smiled.

The service was the epitome of boring, but when Father John saw me, I could tell he was delighted to see me here. After the service, I told my mom not to wait for me and went straight to the garden to make preparations for tomorrow. I ran into Father John there.

''Father...''

''Hello, Quinn. You pleasantly surprised me. I have to say, my faith in you was faltering, but deep down I knew you would do what you're told.''

''Well, you were persuasive, Father,'' I admitted.

''Good. I wanted to talk to you, Quinn. Come with me.'' He said and walked away. He wasn't turning around, expecting me to follow him. I'd better do.

We entered his office.

''Please, sit down, Quinn.'' He commanded. It wasn't some polite gesture. It was an order.

I sat down, and Father John sat in front of me on his desk. The broad man was towering over me, and I could only wonder what he wanted with me.

''I have been watching you this past week, Quinn. And I think you are the perfect candidate.''

His words were confusing.

''The perfect candidate? For what exactly? Do you have another work for me, besides the garden?''

''You could say that. Something like that. The perfect candidate for redemption. You see, I like to pick those problematic ones. And help them to get on the right path.''

''What do you mean by that. I don't follow.''

''No. I wouldn't suppose you would. You're a bad boy, Quinn. And I have made it my mission to make you an obedient one. Just like many boys before you.''

''Sorry, but I really don't know what you mean by that,'' I said. I wanted to tell him to fuck off, but something about him scared me.

''I understand. But you will... soon.''

''What? What does that supposed to mean?!'' I protested, a little foolishly. He stood up, towering over me even higher and becoming even more intimidating.

''KNEEL!'' He said. It was an order. An order that made me gasp with disbelief. I froze.

His hand moved fast and grabbed me by my throat. ''I said.. KNEEL! Slut.''

I fell to my knees and looked at him like a confused little boy. Father John was still squeezing my throat. Enough to make me uncomfortable, but not too much to hurt me.

''Now... let's go over the rules.'' Father John said with a wicked smile.

I tried to protest, but his firm grip on my throat held me down on my knees.

''Shall we?!'' He asked with a firm voice.

''Yes...'' I croaked.

''Good boy.'' He said and loosened his grip. ''You will ällways address me Father, until you learn how to behave, then you can be granted the privilege to call me Daddy. But that is a long way, especially for you. But the more you work on yourself, the better your chances are for such a privilege. If you won't behave, you will receive only punishment. Do we understand each other?''

I looked at him with disbelief. What is this? It feels like a bad dream, but his grip on my throat and his intimidating presence are so real. I was stunned by this.

''I said, DO WE UNDERSTAND EACH OTHER?''

''Yes...'' I mumbled.

''YES, WHAT?!'' His deep, intimidating voice shook my body.

''Yes... Father.'' I corrected myself.

"Good. Good boy." Father released his grip on my throat. My hands flew up instinctively to the spot that burned. I was too shaken, too terrified even to look at him.

When he moved again, I dared to raise my eyes. In his hand hung a blackened chain. A pendant swung from it, wrapped in thorns, the bound cross etched deep into the metal.

He stepped closer and lowered the chain over my head. Sliding beneath my shirt, the cold metal pressed against my bare skin. The thorns bit gently--enough to remind me, not to wound me. A shiver ran through me. And somehow, despite myself, a grin betrayed me.

Father's eyes caught it instantly. "This is the sign of your total submission to me," he said. "These thorns won't harm you. They will only remind you. Every day, every moment."

A chill ran down my spine. In that instant, I understood--this was no joke. He meant every word. Run away? Tell my parents? What could I do?

Father's gaze froze me where I knelt. "No. Running will not help. You know that, don't you?"

I swallowed hard, my throat tightening again, and tried one last time. "I... I don't... I can't..." My words trembled, faltering under the weight of his gaze. Suddenly, he moved toward me. He grabbed the chain and tightened it around my throat. Reminding me who is the master here.

'"You can't? You won't? You don't get a say. I chose you. You should feel honored, not defiant," he said, his voice low, deliberate. "But I didn't expect it to be easy. The right things never are. You will learn how to behave--the easy way or the hard way. And here is your first lesson. You will not speak until told to. Do you understand?"

I gulped through the chain, hugging my throat tight, reminding me of my place, like some slave from times past.

''I said, DO YOU UNDERSTAND?''

"Yes... Father," I whispered, each syllable heavy, trembling--but enough, for now.

"Good. So now... let's begin your first lesson, slut."

The Taste of Sin Ch. 01

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