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Very Severe Penance
by Catriona (address withheld)

***

A wife gets more than she bargains for as she goes to 
church for her weekly confession. (F/m-teen, reluc, 
oral, bd, religious, huml)

***

It was with trepidation that I approached the church to 
make my weekly confession. On the surface I led a 
quiet, sedate life as a wife and mother, but nobody 
knew what turmoil and unseemly thoughts lurked beneath 
that respectable exterior. And our parish priest, 
Father Halloran, was notorious for being intolerant of 
sinners, and severe in his penances. To top it all off, 
I had heard that he was suffering from a very bad cold 
so he was probably going to be even grumpier.

I nodded to the few people who were praying in the 
front pew and slipped into the confessional. I heard 
Father settling into his seat on the other side.

He had a terrible cough. "...cough... cough... what can 
I do for you today, my child?" I thought to myself that 
his cold must be really bad - his voice sounded totally 
different than usual.

"Bless me Father, for I have sinned. I... have harbored 
lustful thoughts for my neighbor."

He said, "Your neighbor? Is he married too?"

"No, Father, he isn't married, in fact he's young. Old 
enough to be legal, but too young to be socially 
acceptable."

There was another bout of coughing. "Have you actually 
committed adultery with this young man?"

I searched my conscience. "No, Father, we haven't even 
actually physically touched. But we talk online almost 
every night, and have cybered - you know, pretended to 
have sex online. I know that's enough to break my 
marriage vows."

"I see. And, if he were to ask you, would you give 
yourself to him?"

I thought about the shivery feeling I got when I saw 
him come online. I remembered the effect some of his 
words had on me, the nights I went to bed excited, and 
dreamed about his hands on me, and a wave of shame 
washed over me. "Yes, I hate to say it, but I would."

There was a pause on the other side of the window. "You 
really are a dirty little whore, aren't you?"

I started. This was not like Father at all. He wasn't 
noted for his tact, but I had never heard him use 
language this coarse. But he was right. "Yes, Father, I 
came here to confess I have been a dirty little whore, 
and I know I should be punished."

He coughed some more, and then brusquely said, "You 
better come over to this side then."

I was a bit surprised as he had never asked me to do 
that before, but obeyed. I entered his side of the 
confessional booth, which I had never seen; it was 
fairly roomy, with a large armchair and a footstool in 
front of it. It was very dimly lit. I noted all these 
details with downcast eyes; I was feeling truly humble 
and penitent so did not look up.

I felt his hands on my shoulders, pushing me to the 
floor. I knelt down, and started fishing for my rosary 
in my purse. I heard his clothes rustling, and was 
surprised to see him out of the corner of my eye 
lifting his cassock. His pants were down, and his erect 
cock was bulging out. 

He came and stood so it was directly in front of my 
face. Then he put his hand on my forehead, and placed 
his thumb and forefinger over my eyelids. I understood, 
he wanted me to keep my eyes closed. Wondering what was 
going to happen next, I tightly closed them. He said 
nothing, but grasped the back of my head with both 
hands, and it was obvious what he wanted me to do.

Although very shocked, I obeyed. I believe that a 
priest is our intermediary with heaven and we should 
not question his wishes. Besides, I thought wryly, he 
had been in such a bitchy mood lately that maybe I 
would be doing the whole parish a favor.

I gently took the head of his dick into my mouth and 
gave it some circular strokes with my tongue. Although 
this was something I had done before, I had never blown 
a priest, and it somehow felt wrong. So I determined 
that I would not let myself enjoy it, that it would be 
only a service to him and to the parish. But as I kept 
going and got more aggressive, smelling his male scent, 
going harder and faster, and hearing the obvious 
pleasure he was getting, I finally lost all control and 
started sucking him off like a hooker.

I started to taste pre-cum and I relaxed my throat, 
cheeks and jaws, ready for him to blow his load into my 
mouth, then he abruptly withdrew his cock.

I felt him come up behind me and pull me to my feet. He 
pushed me a few steps until my legs bumped what I 
assumed was the footstool. His hand pushed my back 
roughly so I was forced to kneel on the footstool. 
Somewhere in the back of my mind I noted that his cough 
had gone away, and he hadn't uttered a word since I 
came to his side of the confessional. He pushed me down 
so that, still kneeling on the footstool, my elbows 
were on the armchair. Then, to my horror, he roughly 
pulled off my pants and underwear.

I thought I understood what was happening. The whole 
forcing me to give him head thing was a test. He wanted 
to see if I enjoyed it. I had showed that I loved doing 
it, so now he knew for sure that I was a whore, and he 
was going to give me corporal punishment. I waited, my 
eyes still closed, ass high in the air. Sure enough, I 
felt his palm landing on my ass cheeks five or six 
times. Not hard, just enough to tingle. I stayed still 
because I knew I deserved the punishment for proving 
what a filthy little slut I was.

Then the blows stopped. I waited for him to instruct me 
on what to do next. Suddenly I felt his hands forcing 
my legs apart. And surprisingly gently, I felt his 
fingers probing me. And probing me very expertly too. I 
let out a gasp of pleasure. 

Although I felt myself start to respond, I resolved 
that I was not going to let myself enjoy it, because 
then I would be punished some more. I tried to pull 
away, and he firmly pushed me back into position. I 
felt something soft against one leg. I didn't dare open 
my eyes, but I could feel first one leg then the other 
being tied to the legs of the armchair with what felt 
like two silk scarves.

Now I was a bit scared. I started to say something but 
he touched one finger to my lips - and with the other 
went back to giving me exquisite strokes in all the 
right spots. I began to get excited by my immobility, 
knowing that I was entirely in his power. As his 
strokes got me hotter and hotter, I felt his other hand 
enter me, inserting several fingers into my exposed 
vagina. Thrusting in and out, he curled his fingers 
inside at just the right angle and found my G-spot, at 
the same time massaging and teasing my swollen clit, 
and I couldn't help but abandon myself to the utter 
pleasure. 

I tried not to make noise, conscious of the 
parishioners praying outside, but a few moans escaped 
my lips as I had an explosive orgasm and squirted all 
over his hands. Looking back on it now, I can imagine 
what a sight I must have been and what the parents of 
my Sunday school pupils would have thought - wantonly 
exposed from the waist down, ass high in the air, knees 
spread wide, tied to a chair, writhing as a man not my 
husband buried his fingers deep in my pussy, fists 
clenched, toes curled, back arching, panting and 
moaning as the most intense orgasm I'd ever had ripped 
through my body. Secrets of the confessional indeed.

While I was still spasming, I felt his cock enter me 
from behind, the head nudging apart my engorged lips. 
My pulsating, dripping, hungry cunt swallowed him up 
instantly, and I eagerly backed up my ass as much as I 
could to accommodate him better. He grunted and thrust 
into me, and I thrust back, moaning some more, no 
longer caring if anyone heard me.

He gripped my hips with both hands and forced me to 
hold still, fucking me hard and fast. My legs were 
spread wide, letting him penetrate deeply and strongly. 
His fingers tightened on my ass, I felt him tense, then 
he exploded inside me. He was so deep inside me that 
his balls were jammed against my still-throbbing clit 
and I felt them pulsating as they emptied into me. He 
leaned on me a bit as his breathing steadied. 

I felt him withdraw from me, a gush of fluids following 
him. My eyes still tightly closed as I had been 
ordered, I heard him putting his clothes back on, then 
the door closed. Hearing no more noise, I dared to open 
my eyes and look around and he was gone. I was able to 
easily untie myself from the chair. I dressed and tried 
to straighten my hair and went back out into the 
church. Luckily, everyone had left so I assumed nobody 
had heard my yells and moans.

As I started walking home, my legs still felt shaky, 
and I was in disbelief as to what had just happened. 
Who would have thought that a weekly confessional could 
have turned into one of the best fucks of my life? I 
decided I had to sit down for a few minutes.

There was a small garden at the back of the church with 
benches. I staggered over and sat down. I took stock of 
my abused body - I had rug burn-like marks on the 
underside of my elbows from the armchair, my ass cheeks 
were still stinging a bit, my cunt was still pulsing 
inside and out, and my pussy and panties were sodden 
with my juices and his cum oozing out, even running 
down my legs. I was so preoccupied that at first I 
didn't notice I was being watched. 

I looked up and there was the neighbor I had been 
cybering with. He was standing at the back door of the 
church smoking a cigarette. Our eyes met, and he nodded 
to me courteously as he always did when we met in 
public. But this time his eyes were mocking as he 
looked at me, a slight smile on his lips. I noticed he 
seemed to be smelling his fingers when he brought his 
cigarette to his lips. He put it out, turned to go back 
in - and grabbed a priest's cassock from the railing 
and put it over his arm as he went in.

I felt like the ground had dropped from under me. I had 
finally been royally fucked by the very person I had 
been fantasizing about, without even knowing it was 
him.

After a few minutes I decided I better be getting home. 
As I went out the gate of the churchyard, I was shocked 
to see my husband coming in. I said, "What are you 
doing here?"

He said, "You know, I thought it was about time I did 
my confession. Although I hear Father has been in a 
god-awful mood lately."

I smiled angelically at him and said, "Oh, actually, I 
think you'll find him in a much better mood this time." 
And I made my way home, grinning like an idiot the 
whole way.

END

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This story was written as an adult fantasy. The author
does not condone the described behavior in real life.

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Kristen's collection - Directory 47