Perversion Of Church

Now, it was just Mom and me, and I guess in response to Marc's betrayal, our household had become even more strict and religious. Mom had always been a religious nut, but now we were in Church almost daily, and I was in the Confessional at least twice a week. I never minded the time I was expected to spend at Church. I found the Church my refuge and God my protector, strength, and buffer against the world. Growing up, I was taught by my Mom that Priests were sort of like angels in human form. They were the messengers of God and wanted only to guide us, to help us know, understand, and follow God's will. When we became parishioners at Saint Ignatius, I was sheltered, inexperienced, and very naive for someone my age. For most of my education, I was home-schooled and reared in the teachings of the Catholic Church. And so, what happened with Father Jeremy was inevitable.

Since coming to our Saint Ignatius Parish, there had been whispered gossip about Father Jeremy. He had apparently experienced troubles in his last Parish, and to quiet things down there, the Bishop transferred him to Saint Ignatius. Despite being a Priest, a common rumor was that Father Jeremy was a very sensual man controlled by his lust and that, in fact, in the short time he had been with our Parish, he had carnally seduced some of the young girls and women in the Parish. Because of his connections and his family's influence, there seemed to be no repercussions, just as there had been none in his old Parish.

*****

I'm not sure when the nature of our relationship began to change. I knew how Father Jeremy looked at me when he thought we were alone. Perhaps it started with his touches, his fingers lightly brushing over my bare arm, the innocent pressure of his arm against my breast that progressed to him "accidentally" caressing my breasts or coming up behind me, pressing his hardening penis against my ass. It would give me an unfamiliar but pleasant tingly sensation between my legs when he did things like that.

Our first sexual intimacy occurred late one afternoon during my confession. It was very dim in the Church when I walked into the Confessional and took a seat. Father Jeremy entered the other side a few moments later, and I began, "Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned. It has been a week since my last confession."

"How have you sinned?" he queried.

There was one sin I knew I had to confess, but I found myself hesitating.

"How have you sinned, my child?" he repeated.

Then, I'm not sure why, I blurted out, "Several times, I have allowed a boy to touch me inappropriately. I thought letting him touch me would be enough to satisfy him, but it wasn't. He tried to force me to let him do other things, and I made him leave."

"You did the right thing, my child, Father said, but you must ask God for his forgiveness. You must pray for guidance and strength to not succumb to this temptation but to hold your vessel pure for God. Repent your sins and pray the prayer of contrition and God will forgive you as you seek spiritual enlightenment."

"Thank you, Father, " I said but did not make any effort to leave.

"Is there something else troubling you, my child?" Father Jeremy asked.

"Yes. Yes, there is Father, but I don't know how to say it, " I stuttered out, the embarrassment making my face hot.

"I am here for you. Please unburden your soul to me, " he said solicitously.

"Fantasies, Father.. . I know it is wrong, but I have been having fantasies and dreams, " I said abruptly.

There was a heavy, silent pause before he asked, "What kind of fantasies?"

I could feel my heart beating in my chest, and I took a deep breath, "being with a boy, touching him, letting him touch me, I said. It's all I think about lately."

Father Jeremy said in a quiet, controlled voice, "I don't understand. What exactly does that mean? Tell me."

"What does that mean? Say it, " he said almost impatiently.

"Oh, Father, please don't make me say it out loud.. . please, " I begged in a shaky voice.

Father Jeremy was silent, the air in the cubicle suddenly feeling oppressive and sexually charged.

"Are you still a virgin?" He questioned.

"Yes, Father, yes, " I murmured.

"Have you let this boy put his cock between your legs? He asked, have you weakened and let him pleasure you between your legs with his mouth? Answer me truthfully."

"Oh, no, Father, never, I protested. Nothing like that.. . that would be wrong. Momma says a woman's body is a gift from God and not intended to be a receptacle for a man's lust."

"Good, good, " he said, pleased with my response to his questions. "God has brought you to me for a divine purpose, Justine, and I trust you will let me reveal our Savior's plan to you."

"Yes, Father, of course, " I replied solemnly and continued, "Father, help me discover the strength to resist and overcome temptations now and in the future. Guide me to follow not my will but God's. Help me to know and trust that God's divine instruction drives my wants and needs."

*****

"Come here my child; come here where I can see you, " Father Jeremy said.

I got up and exited my side of the Confessional; momentarily pausing, I glanced at the pews and noticed that the Church was empty except for someone in the rear row of pews. I walked around to the other side of the Confessional, took Father's outstretched hand, and allowed him to draw me inside.

There in the cool dimness, I remember seeing the large Cornet ring on Father Jeremy's finger as he slipped his hand under my skirt and between my thighs. I did not pull away but stood motionless as if his touching me there was the most natural thing in the world. Tentatively at first, Father Jeremy let his hand brush across my clit before he eased his thumbs into the waistband of my virginal white panties and slowly, deliberately pulled them down. I gasped in surprise and held my breath when he removed my panties; I said nothing, mesmerized by Father's calm and reassuring manner and by my all-encompassing desire to be a good and obedient servant of God.

Father parted his robe and positioned me on his lap with my back pressed against his chest. The hard bulge of his now exposed penis pressed impatiently along the inner length of my thighs.

"Father? Father?" I stammered questioningly, nervously.

"Don't be afraid, my child, " Father Jeremy said when he began to thrust his cock upward between my thighs.

I could feel the warm flesh of his cock shaft working its way up and down and the hard tip of his cockhead rubbing over my swelling clit with each thrust.

*****

I could feel a heat building between my legs, and I turned and looked into Father Jeremy's strong, handsome face. His eyes were closed, and his breathing had become raspy, almost labored. His hands encircled my waist as he held my lower body tight against his crotch and stroked between my thighs with his long, thick cock. A wave of heat began to undulate through my pussy, making me gasp for air as Father started to thrust faster and harder until his body stiffened, and with a deep groan, thick, white cum pulsed from his cock and pooled on my thighs.

I sat still, bewildered by what had happened. Not sure what to do, I finally attempted to rise but was held in place by Father's firm hold while he resumed a slow thrusting until he became soft, and the cum no longer leaked out.

After taking a minute to regain his composure, Father Jeremy stood, cleaned himself with my panties, and, stuffing his spent cock back into his pants, adjusted his robes. Looking at me with a still hungry expression on his face, Father handed the cum stained panties to me.

"Now clean yourself so that you are presentable, " he said, his hand lightly caressing my cheek.

He watched me spread my legs and clean myself.

Leaning forward, he cupped my pussy and slipped his middle finger inside my wet slit before saying in a deep, reverent voice, "With a joyful obedient heart, you have submitted to God's will and, through me, allowed him to anoint you with the physical manifestation of his spirit. In doing so, you have pleased our Savior."

After blessing me, Father Jeremy said, "Go with God, my child, " before he turned and left the confessional booth.

I tucked the soiled panties into my purse and stood in the quiet darkness of the Confessional, recounting everything that had happened. I did not feel sad or embarrassed but rather very special because God had chosen me as the physical repository and spiritual vessel for his blessings and messenger.