The Good Father

Father McKenna read the newspaper story of Rev. Spillwell with deep interest and reflection. The local minister was arrested in Madam Pearl’s brothel. He was discovered naked with three ‘professional women’, all of whom were equipped with riding boots, crops and bridles. The story hinted at Spillwell’s regular attendance at such sessions and described various equipment and tactics advertised on the door of the brothel’s “Jockey” room. Father McKenna experienced a stirring in his trousers as he read on and envisioned the possibilities. Soon his right hand slipped under the table and through the black material he pinched and manipulated the foreskin of his uncircumcised cock, allowing the engorged head to slip back and forth between his exploring fingers.

He knew and had often lunched with the Rev. Spillwell. This helped the good father to create images more graphic than usual. And as he devoured the article he increased the tempo applied to his stiff cock. Towards the end of the article a tearful Spillwell proclaimed to the reporter. “It is so difficult to be an arbiter of public morality. One is forced to condemn the lewd and lustful behavior of others: to set oneself up as exemplary, a paragons of virtue. Meanwhile, the temptation grows in proportion to the condemnation and one finds oneself thinking of little else. That is my only defense. I am so sorry.”

Father McKenna nodded as he read the apology. “So true,” he whispered, “So very, very true.” He closed his eyes and remembered thundering sermons delivered on the disgusting prevalence of pornography on Charles St. All the while, however, he ogled the women’s legs as they sat in wrapped attention. He railed on yet imagined, blowjobs, anal intercourse, congregational orgies, with himself as the sexual director: demanding filthier, more unnatural acts - an insatiable sexual demon. Father McKenna then shot jets of semen into his underwear, thrashing about on his kitchen chair. He next went upstairs into the bathroom and washed out his underwear. He could not have Mrs. Thompson launder them and find the unmistakable stains.

The sexual release did little to quiet Father’s mind. He felt somehow elated that another member of the clergy experienced the same urges as he. For two days he allowed his imaginings to stream freely through his mind. He pictured the women he counseled as naked, performing disgusting acts for him. As he watched their delicate cool hands flit about, he pictured them locked on his virgin cock, fisting him to a climax. As he watched their rouged lips mouthing words, he envisioned them sucking wantonly on his rampant, spewing dick.

On the third day he found himself rummaging for four VHS tapes he had acquired on his last trip to New York. He had placed disguising labeling on their spines and hidden them deep in the back of his closet. He remembered his shame as he purchased them in a seedy shop from an even seedier proprietor. He felt sure the man knew somehow that he was a priest. He had quickly snatched the four videos off the shelves. In his worst bouts of temptation he would dredge them up and watch them, sitting completely naked before his television. He would wank for hours cumming again and again immersed in their degrading action. From these fims, he learned just how filthy the human animal could become. Whenever he weakened so much as to spend one of these “lost nights” captured in their spell, their lurid images fed his darkest desires for days.

Some dam had burst in Father McKenna’s soul. He was obsessed with filth and was allowing this obsession to have its reign.

It was now Thursday afternoon and in keeping with his routine he trundled off to St. Josaphat’s convent in order to hear confessions. The ranks of the sisterhood had thinned tremendously within the last decade. Instead of a huge motherhouse, the five of them gathered in a suburban home. There was no need for parish funds for these nuns. They all taught at the local school and the five salaries supported them very nicely, even handsomely.

There was no elaborate confessional. Father McKenna merely set up in a spare room upstairs and heard the confessions there. Today sister Dolorosa came into the room and knelt on the rug beside Father’s thigh. She was the youngest of the sisters with hypnotic blue eyes, a heaving bosom and a bottom that; although it was modestly clad, had often caused twinges in Father’s trousers.

In his present state of mind Father half-listened to her list of minor sins but in his imagination she was on her knees performing another function. He imagined sister Dolorosa’s head on the body of Trixie a wife from his lewd videos who sucked hungrily on a “glory hole” cock. But then, through his puerile haze, he heard something that brought him back to the moment.

“Father, I’m afraid I have had some impure thoughts. I have prayed to remove them but they recur at night.” She whispered these words in a barely audible voice. Father McKenna wrestled internally but then surrendered to himself and asked.

“Impure thoughts are one category of sin my child. Do you ever touch yourself as you have these thoughts?”

“Oh Father, I am so ashamed, but my hand did wander down there….. Last night.”

“Down where my child?”

“Do I have to say, Father?”

“Well, in order to absolve you my child, I have to know what you have done.” His cock expanded and throbbed as sister Dolorosa fought for the words.

“Between my legs, Father.” She turned bright red and covered her mouth with her hands.



......CONTINUED.....

“We priests are marriage counselors my dear and have a doctor’s understanding of a woman’s anatomy. You can consider me much as you would a doctor. There are many possibilities when you speak of touching yourself between the legs. Each however is a different gravity of sin. I’m afraid I must know exactly what you did to yourself.”

“ I…. I… I ….pressed” she stammered hopelessly.

“Oh for goodness sake girl. You will have to show me.” He spoke these harshly using an authoritarian yet as professional a voice as he could muster.

“ But I could never. How could I. You …you….you.”

“Then your sin will not be forgiven, how can I without knowing what the sin is. Remember child I am a priest.” He licked his lips as he spoke these words. “Bring that other chair over here and sit across from me.”

Sister Dolrosa fetched the chair and Father McKenna admired her enticing bottom as she did so. He could only hope that his attempts met with the outcome he now lusted for. She sat opposite him. “Now stop being a ridiculous child and show Father how you touched yourself.” She slowly raised her hem squirming in her chair. Father McKenna dropped to his knees between sister’s legs He rolled back the material till it sat high on her waist and waited for the demonstration to begin.

Her hands slid down the front of her panties and the suggestive outline of her knuckles and fingers enflamed him. “This is ridiculous, how am I to judge the gravity of the sin if I cannot see what you are doing?” Muttering he pulled down and removed sisters underwear. Then spread her legs further apart and leaned his face in close to the action. “I see your finger has parted and opened your outer lips and you are rubbing your clitoris. Is your clitoris responding by stiffening in excitement?” He reached his finger into her oozing pussy and began manipulating her clit. “Yes, it has and there is definitely increased moisture about the labia. Do you insert your fingers as you reach a higher state of arousal? Well, show me my girl, I must see it all.”

Sister Dolorosa was moaning now and thrusting her hips closer and closer to the good Father’s face. “Is it worse when I do this Father?” She pulled and jerked on her clit with her left thumb and forefinger and two fingers of her right hand began to finger fuck her contracting pussy. She closed her eyes and her head began to loll from side to side as she sunk down in the chair.

Father had seen females masturbate in his videos but to have this young nun bringing herself to the edge, digging away at her exposed cunt drove him mad with desire. “That is as sinful as a man doing this sister” he scolded. As he spoke he demonstated the offense by fishing his rampant cock out of his fly; he started to fist it furiously staring into her cunt all the while.

“I’m sorry Father, but I can’t see exactly what you are doing that is so filthy. Could you sit up on your chair and educate me?” He hopped up onto his seat and moved it closer to her. The two of them thrashed away at themselves moaning and ooohing. Staring lewdly at each other’s cock and cunt. Her knees pressed and rubbed his inner thighs. All four hands were now a blur. They both commenced spasming and squirting together. Father’s jets of semen shot up and over sisters clothing as her thighs opened and shut involuntarily pumping out her juices.

After climaxing they sat, spent and staring at each other. Father, broke the silence when he said. “Sister your penance will be necessarily harsh for such gross sin.” His eyes scanned the room. In the corner he spied a bundle of yardsticks tied together, slated no doubt for the sisters’ classrooms. “You will fetch me one of those yardsticks, NOW!………. On your knees sister and bend over that chair.”

Sister handed Father the ruler and arranged herself tantalizingly over the chair. Father McKenna folded her skirts over her back and stood there admiring her precious taught bottom. He swished the yardstick through the air and arranged himself to the side of his victim. “Do you realize how lewd your behavior is sister?” Swishhh , SMACK! He rose a welt on her cream colored ass. She jumped and her beautiful skin jiggled from the blow. “Sex is a filthy, filthy thing.” Swishhh , SMACK! “You are a disgrace sister.” Swishhh , SMACK!

“Yes, yes Father, I know.” Swishhh , SMACK! “ I deserve more and more.” Swishhh , SMACK! “Do it again Father. Again. Again.” Swishhh , SMACK! “Punish my filthy bottom Father.” Swishhh , SMACK!

Father was in a lather; his cock once again was raging as sister begged for more and more smacks. The moisture flowed down her legs. Both he and she were panting and covered in perspiration. He worked his way up and down the back of her legs. “Yes, there!” she pleaded as he found new areas of virgin flesh. He lost track of the blows he delivered. His arm was tiring and he was in a fever. She writhed, groaned and undulated to the twacks.

He was in a stupor when he finally stopped. She turned and looked shyly over her shoulder. “Father each week you must instruct me. Save me. Show me all the evil deeds that I must avoid.” She knelt-up and turned herself round to face him. Still on her knees she hugged his legs. “Educate me again father and promise to discipline my wayward thoughts and deeds. Father, I know Sister Immaculata suffers from the same folly. Could you, would you, see us both together? Oh Please Father.”

Great story ---thanks for sharing it with us:ra

Great story PG. Good luck to you.:)

PG:

I'm a former Catholic school girl and the mention of sins, rulers, and Sister Dolorosa...hey...we had a Sister Dolorosa at my school!


Good story. It struck a funny, yet, familiar chord. It was nasty, AND I enjoyed it. :bondage:

Thanks Nikita I too am a product of a staunch Catholic upbringing as you can probably tell.

Our principal was sister Mary Discipline. I'm being unfair. There were also some great ladies in the sisterhood.

Thanks
PG

great story PG!

thanks for sharing your story
i liked it!

uummmm will we get to hear next weeks "confession"? Oh yeah I loved it!