Title: Confessions Of Sin
Author: Ky (venom69)
Fandom: Star Trek: Voyager
Rating: ADULT
Summary: "Would you like to confess?"
Character/Pairing: Janeway/Chakotay
Spoilers: None… the show’s ended!
Warnings: None, really.
Prompt Number for fic101: 97 - Sheets
Author’s Notes: Song belongs to Craig Morgan. Written for Marie. I am SO going to hell for this one...
Disclaimer: Usual guff. Not mine, promise to put them back where I found them.
Date: 08/04/07

***

No room for fear
Full of faith
Hands held high
Singing Amazing Grace

***

Kathryn walked up the stairs, her heels echoing sharply on the stone beneath her.

She didn't hesitate when she stepped up to the large double doors. Pushing them open, she continued walking forward, right down the middle aisle of empty pews.

Moving to the altar, she touched her forehead, navel, left shoulder, right shoulder. Whispering softly, she paused for a moment and looked up at the picture of Jesus that sat cantered in the large window, his face looking down at her.

The stained glass windows reflected throughout the church, casting their coloured light across her face. The tea light candles resting in the large candelabra, each one lit in prayer for a lost soul, only added to the light that danced on her skin.

Turning from the altar, she walked back down the aisle, stopping halfway, biting her lip in thought. She had only come here to offer a quiet thought to the friends lost, but she couldn't quite bring herself to leave yet.

Nodding once, she turned, sliding in to sit in the middle of the pew.

The hard wood underneath her creaked a little as she sat, but Kathryn ignored it. Bowing her head, she clasped her hands together and prayed.

She was silent for a long few moments, conveying what she needed to. Whichever deity was listening, she hoped that her thoughts were answered.

When she was satisfied, she lifted her head and started in surprise to find the priest standing at the end of the pew.

"I didn't mean to interrupt you." He apologised quietly.

"You didn't." She assured him, her voice also hushed.

"You look troubled," He commented, frowning slightly. "Would you like to confess?"

"No, I..." She was going to say that she had nothing worthy of confession, but a good dozen or more thoughts immediately popped into her mind to quickly push that notion away. "Yes."

The priest nodded. "Come in when you're ready."

Kathryn watched him move to one side of the confessional, disappearing behind the door.

She bit her lip again and looked around, her eyes falling on the image of Jesus once more. Maybe confession would be good for her. Maybe it would help to ease some of her consistently troubled thoughts.

With that in mind, she rose and moved to the other side of the confessional. Closing the door behind her, Kathryn moved to kneel, facing the grating.

Her ass resting on her heels, her hands flat against her thighs, she watched as the covering that separated the two halves of the confessional was pulled back and the Priest's face half came into view.

Taking a deep breath, she spoke. "Forgive me father, for I have sinned."

"What is it that brings you here?"

"It has been..." She tried to do the math, but it was too depressing to really consider. "an extremely long time since my last confession."

"Go on."

Kathryn knew that she could list her many faults - not to mention the many mistakes she'd made recently - but in the interest of not being in confession until she turned fifty, she decided to start with the most recent incident and work backwards. "I've been having impure thoughts about a man."

"Not your husband?"

"No, we're not married. He's a... friend." She flushed. "A very dear friend."

"But you've been having these thoughts?"

"Yes." It was surprisingly easy to admit it, given how long she'd spent trying to push the thoughts away. "And they only seem to get worse with time."

"Worse?"

"At first, it was just casual interest. He's an attractive man and I wondered what he looked like naked." Yeah, her and half the Ship. "But, then I wondered what he would taste like."

"In what sense?"

"That was casual interest, at first, too. I wanted to taste the tattoo on his forehead. He smelt so good and I wanted to taste the skin of his neck."

"But?"

She flushed even more. "Then I wanted to know what... other... parts of him tasted like."

There was no way in hell - no pun intended - she was going to tell a priest that she wanted to suck her first officer's cock.

It was wrong on at least three different levels.

"Did you give in to this desire?"

"No." More's the pity. "I resisted the temptation."

"Good girl."

"But then the thoughts got worse." She shuddered in memory. "I began to wonder about his.. talents."

"Talents?"

"In pleasure. I'd watch his hands on the console between our chairs and wonder what they would feel like on my skin. Inside of me." Her breath was beginning to speed up as she remembered the many nights that she had laid awake thinking of exactly that. "And then I began to wonder about more than his hands."

"Go on."

Absently, her hand caressed the hemline of her dress, pulling it up to stroke along her skin. "I imagined him as we first me; dark and dangerous. Hating everything I stood for. Wanting nothing more than to conquer me."

"You wanted him to conquer you?"

"More than I wanted air." The memory of the look in his eyes, during their first face-to-face meeting, as he'd mentally shot daggers at her made a rush of warmth flow through Kathryn’s body, centring in her lower belly. "I wanted him to take me, then. Or force me to please him."

Talking like this was going to send her to hell.

"Those leathers..." She sighed, her hand tickling the warm skin of her upper thigh. "I don't know how I kept standing when he looked at me like that."

"Like what?"

"Like he wanted to eat me whole."

She could only just make out the dark eyes of the priest as he watched her through the grating. "Go on."

"After that, it seemed that my imagination couldn't get enough. I would forever be waking from a dream of him, wet with desire and sweat, covering the sheets, crying out in orgasm."

"Did he know?"

"I think he heard me." Half of the turn on had probably been that she shared a bulkhead with Chakotay's bedroom and he would have, no doubt, been able to hear her. "But he never did anything."

Kathryn sighed when she thought of all the missed opportunities over the years. Her sigh turned into a gasp when her hand had moved right up to the apex of her thighs.

"I waited for him to. All of those dinners and all I wanted was to be his main course."

She could feel the dampness through the material and it only made the excitement grown.

"Keep going."

"I fantasized about him slipping into my Quarters one night and taking me as I slept. In my mind, I would wake from dreams of him to find him thrusting into me. I'd be so aroused, and he would feel so good, that I wouldn't be able to do anything but push back against him."

With her eyes focussed on the priest's, she caressed herself through the cotton that covered her wet heat, rocking against her own hand.

"Or the helm." She gasped at the mental image. "I'd be leaning over Tom's shoulder, looking at something. He would be watching my ass and, unable to contain himself, he'd push up against me. I'd gasp in surprised but he wouldn't care. He'd yank down my pants and take me right there, with the whole Bridge crew watching, too shocked to do anything."

Slipping around the side of her panties, her fingers moved over the slippery flesh between her thighs, touching and teasing as her hips continued to move. She could feel her cunt, swollen with blood and lust, and she rubbed at every bit of skin she could reach at the awkward angle.

"Or we'd be in a turbolift and he'd pin me to the wall and tell me that he wasn't going to take no for an answer anymore, not when he knew how much I wanted it. I'd order him to back off, but he wouldn't. He'd undo my uniform enough to get to me and he'd make me come under his hand right there as we travelled from the bridge to wherever. He would tell me that it didn't matter if the 'lift stopped or not, he wasn't letting me go until he had me screaming."

Pulling her hand away, she moved it to her lower belly, resting there for a moment before sliding lower. Her forefinger found her clit easily and rubbed in quick, hard, circles.

"My favourite one was during the meeting when I asked him to be my First officer. He'd tell me that he would agree to the deal if he got something in return." Her breath hitched.

"What would he want?"

"Me." To hell - again, no pun - with what she could and couldn't tell this priest. "He'd force me to my knees and tell me to suck him off. I'd pretend not to want it, but he'd force my head up and down on him. He would talk the whole time, telling me how good it felt to be so deep in my mouth. How I looked on my knees for him, sucking off a terrorist. He'd pull out before he could come and drag me to my feet. His hand would slip beneath my uniform and he'd know that I was aroused."

If talking like this wasn't going to send her to hell, masturbating in confessional would probably be the thing to secure her ticket.

"And then he'd push me over the desk and fuck me like a common whore. I would scream and beg him for more and he'd tell me that this was how he was going to have me every night for the next seventy years. I'd protest, but we'd both know I would let him have anything he wanted."

Hell or not, Kathryn found that she didn't care as she increased the pressure against her clit, her eyes slipping closed.

"I almost killed a man and he was so angry with me." She almost lost momentum at the thought of Noah, but forced herself to continue. "I imagined that he'd storm into my Quarters without ringing the chime. He would sit on the sofa and pull me down onto his lap. His hand would connect with my covered ass, but it wouldn't be enough and he'd make me take off my clothes. Once I was naked, he'd strike out his frustrations with his hand against me. When he was done, he'd move his hand between my thighs and be able to feel the wetness there. He'd know how much I liked his rough treatment. He'd know what I need."

The movement of her hand faltered as the pressure built, and she could feel her the orgasm dangling just out of her reach.

"Keep going, Kathryn."

She'd almost managed to forget her audience and her eyes snapped open again, meeting the priest's dark ones.

"Make yourself come." He instructed. "You know how much I love to watch you fall apart."

"I know." She whimpered, pulling at her clit.

She did know how much he loved the sight of her crying out under her own hand - or a vibrator, if he wanted to see that - and she imagined him watching her like he was now, thick cock weeping moisture as she pleasured herself.

Kathryn wasn't an exhibitionist by nature, but watching his dark eyes roam her flushed body was reason enough to do just about anything he wanted, including masturbating for him. And she did, quite often, though he didn't always let her finish.

With that imagine in mind - Chakotay watching her with hot eyes before he batted her hand away and took her where she laid - Kathryn rubbed her clit harder and felt the walls of her reality folding in on themselves as she came under her own hand, shuddering and shaking.

The waves rushed through her and blood screamed through her body. Unconsciously, she held her breath and willed the feelings to last. Dimly, she heard the priest shout her name.

As her orgasm died, she pulled the hand from her underwear and licked the stickiness from her fingers, her eyes locked with that of the man watching her.

Breathing heavily, she grinned at him through the grating. "Just what would the real priest say if he could see us now?"

Chakotay snorted. "Given who the real priest is, I think he'd be inclined to just lecture you about your coffee habit as opposed to commenting on this."

Slumped back against the wall of the confessional, Kathryn could imagine the EMH walking into the Fair Haven Church to find this.

She giggled a little. "Do you feel better now?"

"No," Chakotay growled. "But I will when I fuck you over the bar in Sullivan's."

"Stop being so possessive. He's just a hologram."

"You like me possessive, remember?" he raised an eyebrow. "I never knew about all of these fantasies that you had floating around in that pretty little head of yours."

Though the flush of arousal was fading from her body, the flush of embarrassment quickly replaced it. "I didn't mean to say quite that much."

"We're going to have to act some of those out, you know."

"After we try the bar top."

"Kathryn!"

"What?" She shrugged. "I like you possessive."

***

End

I'd like to point out that I'm not religious - not in the slightest - so if I got any of the finer points wrong, well... you didn't read it for the finer points, anyway, did you? :p