For the most part, Father Thomas was bored. As a young student in the seminary he had always imagined that listening to people confess their deepest, darkest secrets would be fascinating. Sometimes, when he used to work in an inner city parish, he did have someone come in to his confessional and tell him in the utmost confidence about affairs they were having or nasty misdeeds they had committed. On the whole, though, it was very mundane.
Now, in the convent, listening to each of the holy Sisters confess to their petty breakages of their Order’s strict rule book or their imagined sins, it was repetitive and dull. He had taken to allowing his mind to wander to the one thought that brightened his day – Sister Maria. More and more his fantasies of the young novice filled his day but, so far, he had managed to resist doing what he was sorely tempted to do – take out his stiff cock in the darkness of the confessional box and play with it while he half listened to the nuns prattle on about using someone else’s share of salt at dinner, etc. etc. So far he had resisted. So far.
The door on the other side of the grille opened and yet another holy woman took her place on the kneeler to unburden her soul.
“Bless me, Father, for I have sinned.”
Sister Maria! Instantly he sat up and so did his cock. He knew her sins would not excite him any more than any of the others had but to have her kneeling at his side, only inches away from him, was enough to put a smile on his face and a thrill in his balls. He struggled to compose himself.
“It has been one week since my last confession. I have been guilty of the sin of pride and lust.”
Now he was totally focussed.
“Lust, my child? Here? In the convent?”
“Yes, Father. I’m sorry but I also have to confess to reading your journal.”
Father Thomas almost fell off his seat.
“You read my journal? Why would you do such a wicked thing?”
“I’m really sorry, Father; please forgive me. I accidentally knocked it off your desk when I was cleaning your room and, when it fell open, I saw my name written on the page. I honestly thought you had probably said something about how well I had been doing your cleaning and that’s when I committed the sin of pride. When I read what you had written, however, it was very different feelings that filled my mind.”
“What did you read, you wicked girl?” said Father Thomas, trying to pretend he was angry but, most of all, he was more than a little nervous.
“Well, the first time…….”
“You mean to say you have committed this grievous sin more than once?”
“I’m sorry, Father, really sorry,” whimpered Sister Maria on the verge of tears. “I couldn’t help myself.”
The priest relaxed a little and sat back in his chair. This might turn out to his advantage after all. As he prepared to listen to this unexpected turn of events, he noticed his cock was rock hard. Meaning only to make himself comfortable, he suddenly had a thought.
“Who would ever know?” he asked himself as he silently opened his cassock, pulled down his zip and released his cock from its confines. It felt good, very good, as he cupped his balls gently before wrapping his fingers around his shaft.
“That first time, Father, I read how you had imagined my lips wrapped around your cock,” she said hurriedly, the words feeling very strange coming from her innocent mouth.
Father Thomas almost came at that moment, the very sound of her sweet voice pronouncing the word “cock” was enough to send a thrill all the way from his balls to the tip of his cock.
“And then what did you do?”
“I ran, Father. I’m ashamed to say I threw your journal down on your desk and ran back to my cell. My mind was in a whirl and I barely slept at all that night. Even praying didn’t seem to help.”
“What a wicked thing to say! Why did a few words in my journal upset you so much?”
“Well it wasn’t just your words, Father. When I got ready for bed I noticed my underwear was very wet and I didn’t understand what had happened.”
He was enjoying himself now, enjoying listening to the hesitant young girl’s confession and enjoying gliding his hand up and down his cock, spreading the precum that was leaking now all over the sensitive head.
“You wet your knickers and somehow that is my fault? I suppose it was my fault you were kept awake too?”
“Yes, Father. I mean, no, Father. Oh, Father, I don’t know what I mean. All I know is that I couldn’t get your words out of my head and all night I had visions of kneeling before you while you fed me your cock instead of Holy Communion.”
.He longed to do just that, right there and then, but he knew that was impossible. Instead he tightened his grip and squeezed just the way he liked it, afraid to say anything in case she stopped talking. It felt amazing, almost as if she was already riding him. He could hear his own breathing and felt his whole body burning up. Without saying a word, his mind urged her to continue.
“When I went back to your room and read the next part, Father, I was even more confused. When you wrote about what you wanted to do to me with your fingers and your tongue I felt tingly all over, even in my most private places, and I knew my underwear was wet again. In fact, this time it was soaking wet.”
He wanted to last longer but listening to her sweet voice telling him how her pussy juices were pouring into her knickers was just too much. His balls tightened and a tremor ran through his whole body. Shot after shot of cum burst out to splatter his cassock and the walls of the tiny confessional before finally slowing down to a stream pouring over his hand.
“I have never heard anything so disgusting and so sinful,” he roared at the frightened girl. “Get out and beg for God’s forgiveness. Your sins need much more than just a few prayers to cleanse your soul. Kneel outside until the other holy Sisters have finished their confessions and repeat the “Hail Mary” until they are all gone. Then I will deal with you.”
Practically in tears, Sister Maria rushed out of the confessional, too ashamed to look at any of the other nuns. She took a seat in the very back row, fell to her knees and began to pray.
“Hail Mary, full of grace…..”
Father Thomas meanwhile was trying to clean up the mess he had made but it was difficult to do so in the near darkness of the confessional. He finally decided to clean his hands on his cassock before taking it off and settling down on his seat just before the door on the other side opened once more.
By the time the last of her Sisters had left, Maria’s knees were sore from kneeling and she had lost count of how many prayers she had recited in penance. She imagined they would all be looking at her as they left and would all be wondering what awful sins she must have committed to be required to kneel in prayer for so long. This filled her with shame and her cheeks blushed in embarrassment.
It seemed like another age before the door on the other side of the confessional finally opened and Father Thomas emerged. She was shocked to see that he wasn’t wearing his cassock as she had imagined he would do when ministering to his flock but he was still dressed in his black trousers and shirt, complete with its white clerical collar. If anything, it made him look even more severe but it was when she dared to raise her eyes to his face that she knew she was really in trouble.
“Come with me, you wicked girl. Your penance will have to be more than a few prayers. It is my painful duty to deliver a punishment that you will never forget.”
He didn’t even look at her again as he turned and marched to the front of the church. The poor nun could do nothing but obey and she rose slowly to her feet, stiff from having been on her knees so long but also trying vainly to delay whatever was in store for her.
He stood waiting for her by the altar and she nervously made her way towards him, her eyes fixed firmly on the floor.
Instantly her head flew up and she looked at him in shock.
“Do not make this any worse than it already is by questioning me. Bend over the altar. I am going to spank you so that you will never again be tempted to sin in this disgusting manner. Now do as you are told.”
Sister Maria couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Spank her? She had never been spanked. She couldn’t think of anything more degrading. And to have it done by a priest! Here in church!
“Please, Father, don’t make me do this. I’ll do anything else. I’ll clean your room better than it has ever been cleaned before. I’ll pray for days on end. I’ll fast for as long as you demand but, please, not this.”
Tears were in her eyes and he almost relented but he reminded himself of the prize at stake and his balls tingled again. His resolve, and his cock, stiffened again.
“Do as you are told, you evil sinner. This is your last chance.”
Not too sure what this threat implied, Sister Maria turned with a whimper and faced the altar. She wasn’t tall enough to bend over it but she leaned her forearms down on the top of it, very aware that her bottom was now facing the evil priest and the giant crucifix that dominated the church. She knew that things were about to get worse, much worse, but she really didn’t know just how much.
She sensed rather than saw the priest at her side. She was afraid to look round and, instead, concentrated on the starched white linen covering the altar. Joining her hands in prayer and supplication she longed for her ordeal to be over. What happened next, however, shocked her to her very core.
She felt Father Thomas leaning down and taking hold of the bottom of her habit. Immediately her head turned around and she tried to get up in protest but he pressed down on her back and ordered her to be still.
“You will not feel the full effect of your punishment if you are protected by your habit. For a proper spanking, you have to be naked.”
Naked? She couldn’t be naked! Not here! Not in church! Not with him beside her! Not with Jesus looking down on her! She couldn’t!
Trying to get up again, she felt the hand on her back push her down once again, more roughly this time, until her large breasts were pressing against the altar top. She was powerless; she knew it and, worse still, he knew it too.
She whimpered once more when she felt her white habit slowly sliding up her legs, exposing her inch by inch to the first man to have ever seen her underwear. The wicked priest took great delight in tucking the thick material into the rope-belt that the nuns wore around their waist before stepping back.
Maria dared to think that he had changed his mind. Maybe he thought the threat of a spanking would be enough of a punishment for her; maybe the shame of this exposure would cleanse her soul. Her thoughts would have been dashed if she could have seen that Father Thomas was smiling.
He was smiling for so many reasons. He knew that all the nuns wore black tights, even though all he had ever seen of them so far was a tiny hint at the bottom of their legs as they knelt in prayer. But in all his fantasises of this young nun she had worn big, white, old-fashioned knickers. He loved women in thongs and small panties too but for this occasion the knickers were perfect. As he finally got to see them in reality, it was an immense struggle not to pull them down immediately.
But he wanted to savour the moment. He could hardly contain the smile on his face as he drank in the sight of her legs as she stood almost on the tips of her toes, her thighs sloping up to form her big, round cheeks. When she started to squirm beneath the weight of his stare, however, he knew it was time to proceed.
But he had no intention of rushing this long-awaited moment and so, kneeling down behind the frightened nun, he first of all took hold of her black tights and peeled them down over her cheeks and down to her knees. Finally her knickers were there before him and now she had a surprise for him.
“Your knickers are wet, girl,” scolded the priest as he leaned forward and inhaled the scent of her arousal, marvelling at the damp patch on the white cotton.
Sister Maria buried her face in her hands in shame. She knew he was right. She just didn’t know why her body was reacting like this or why she was tingling once again between her legs. In fact, she was tingling all over, all the way from her private places to the very tips of her breasts.
“These will have to go too.”
Before she even knew what he was talking about, the priest had grabbed her big knickers and pulled them down, down over her cheeks, down over her thighs, until they rested around her knees on top of her tights. She knew without looking round, without looking down that he could see her now. Knew that he could see her private places; knew that he could see the wet stain on the inside of her knickers and, maybe, horror of horrors, could see her dirtiest hole. She instinctively clenched her cheeks to protect herself from his gaze but this met but a sharp rebuke and an even sharper slap across her right cheek.
The sound of the slap shocked her almost as much as the blow itself and she cried out in fright. What came next was so unexpected.
Father Thomas got up and stood by her side. Pressing down on her back once more with his left hand, his right did what he had wanted to do for so long as he cupped her round cheeks and squeezed the soft, untouched flesh.
Before he got lost in his lust, however, he resumed his role as confessor and teacher. Raising his right hand, he swung it down, cruelly striking her arse. He had used considerable force and as it sharply struck her unblemished skin it was once again accompanied by a loud slap. Maria winced as she felt the sting and, even after the initial surge of pain diminished, the discomfort lingered. But this was not the first woman the priest had ever spanked; it wasn’t even the first nun. He knew what he was doing and he paused for a few moments to allow her to relax.
Just as he sensed her starting to do so, he raised his hand again. The poor nun knew what to expect now and tried to prepare herself for it but the loud slap and ensuing sting still shocked her body. She gasped and realised that he had slapped her in exactly the same spot. The pain seemed to burn now and she wondered how long he intended to keep this up. She also wondered why the rest of her body was responding in a very different way to the pain in her bottom as she felt the moisture between her legs begin to slide down her thighs.
His hand rose once more and, once more, harshly landed on the same spot. She didn’t know how much more she could take as her bottom was now red hot. The fourth slap stung worse than any of the others. She knew she had to try once more.
“Please, Father, please! I can’t take any more.”
The tears were running down her face and he knew she was probably right. Although he was enjoying turning her cheeks pink, causing her severe pain was not what he wanted. He had much more pleasurable plans for this young nun. He lifted his hand from the small of her back and stood back. She slid off the altar, falling to her knees before him, her knickers and tights still wrapped around her knees.
“You are a slut, girl, and the only way to stop that from getting worse is to show you the error of your ways. If you want to be a slut then I will treat you like a slut and then you will decide what path you will follow, whore or nun. If you have read my journal, you know what to do next.”
Poor Sister Maria was still in shock from her spanking. She could barely think. All she knew was that she had never wanted to be anything but a nun and she didn’t understand why Father Thomas was treating her in this way. But she resolved that she would prove to him that she was a good nun. She would prove to him that she wasn’t a slut. She would do the things he told her to do and he would see how bad she was at them.
Remembering what she had read, she opened the belt of his trousers with trembling fingers, amazed at the bulge in the front of them. Allowing them to fall to the floor, she hesitantly pulled his shorts down and revealed his cock. She gasped as she looked at a near-naked man for the first time ever. Not only was she looking at a man’s cock for the first time, she was looking at a priest’s cock! An erect cock! In church! As Jesus looked on! Even so, she drank in the sight of his hairy balls and his beautiful shaft which seemed to get even bigger at the top, a top which was moist and dripping.
Again trying to remember what she had read in the journal, she moved closer and leaned in until it was only inches from her mouth. Instinctively her tongue extended and licked the base of his shaft, slowly running all the way up to the head. She heard him moaning and felt his body stiffen. She wondered if she had done something wrong but he didn’t move to stop her so she continued.
Looking up at him she noticed that the priest’s eyes were burning into her and the look on his face was one she had never seen before on any man. She did it again. And again. Her wet, warm tongue licked his full length and he seemed to get even harder as she teased him with her mouth.
“I knew you could do it,” he whispered. “Open your mouth.”
Doing as she was told, her mouth opened and she tentatively took him inside. Her lips closed around the shaft as her head slowly moved down. She didn’t know how deep she was supposed to let him go so she stopped half way and began to bob her head up and down in an inexperienced manner as she made her first attempt at a blowjob.
She could feel more moisture leaking from him and took this to be a good sign. She wasn’t sure about the salty taste but she knew it was not one she would ever have to taste again so she continued to suck.
“Such a natural slut,” the priest thought to himself. Her mouth was divine and he thought he was already in heaven. He couldn’t remember ever writing in the journal about how she should use her tongue but, as she lashed at the tip of his throbbing cock, he felt the warmth of pleasure flood throughout his body. He tensed because he knew it wouldn’t be long.
As he pushed even deeper to the back of her throat he could feel her gagging and he knew he was almost there. His balls started to tighten and his cum was rising. Once more his whole body stiffened and he suddenly pulled out of her warm mouth.
Grabbing the top of her head with one hand, he pumped his cock with the other and a second later a stream of thick, hot cum shot out, hitting her across the nose, mouth and chin. Her mouth opened in shock as she tried to pull away but he held her firmly and his next spurt landed on her tongue. The poor nun nearly gagged in disgust as she swallowed instinctively and no sooner had she done so than his final, weaker shot landed across her chest.
Pushing her back on to her heels, he looked down on her in pretended disgust.
“Look at you, the very image of a slut with a man’s seed across your face and body. Clean yourself up and leave this holy place but before you go, leave your disgusting knickers on the altar. The last thing I want is for you to enjoy feeling your sinful body’s lust on your hairy pussy. Present yourself in my room after evening prayer to continue your penance.
With that, he tucked his cock back into his shorts, pulled up his trousers and marched off to the sacristy, fastening his belt as he went.
Sister Maria, was in a mess. Her face was a mess; her habit was a mess and her mind was a mess. “Wasn’t that enough for him? Hadn’t she been punished enough? And what was he going to do with her knickers?”
It felt so strange to be pulling down her tights, taking off her knickers and laying them in on the holy altar. So strange and so sinful. But if this was what she had to do to prove to Father Thomas that she wasn’t a slut then this is what she would do. As she hurried from the church, her tights rubbing at the nakedness between her legs, she had one last thought?
What was going to happen in his room this evening?