Chastity

All the Characters in this fictional story are over the age of eighteen.

"How was the revival, Mona?"

"It was wonderful, Mom."

"It must have been. Your face has the most beautiful smile on it. Who was there?"

"All the kids from our church group and a lot of them from across town, too."

"Well, that's good. You had dinner?"

"Oh yes. There was a special feast for those of us who signed the pledge."

"What pledge is that. dear?"

"The chastity pledge."

"So you signed?"

"Oh, Yes. I promised to be chaste for my husband."

"That's wonderful. I'm so happy for you and I'm sure your father will be too when he gets home."

"He isn't home?"

"There was an emergency at the mall. One of the toilets is overflowing."

"Oh, the life of a plumber."

"Don't complain. He makes a good living."

"I'm not complaining, it just must be a drag for him always getting called out for emergencies. Well, I better get upstairs and do my homework."

I turned the TV on with the sound down low and started to work out the problems for Calculus. I was hardly paying attention to the TV, in the middle of a hard problem, when I looked up and I could hardly believe it. Some girl and the Bachelor were under a blanket and it sure looked like they were having sexual intercourse. I quickly turned the TV off. Then I felt guilty as blood rushed to my groin. It reminded me of all the wrong things I'd done before learning about chastity. Once I even let Jimmy put his hand on my breasts. Thank God I hadn't let him put his hands in my pants like he wanted to.

The Devil is so clever. He was trying me and it was all I could do not to reach down and feel my sex, which was wetting my panties in spite of what I could do about it. I remembered what they said about masturbation at the revival and got my Bible down from my bedside table and started to read. I could barely concentrate on the words. I tried aversion therapy like they told us to and imagined earthworms crawling in my vagina but that just made me want to reach down there and play with them. The Bible wasn't being any help.

I fled my room for downstairs and the kitchen and got some Graham Crackers to soak in glass of milk. Breaking the crackers in half and dipping them in milk, in and out—oh! I suddenly realized what it looked like. I could hear a sitcom in the other room and it was just one sexual joke after another. I went out into the back yard and did push-ups and ran in place until I couldn't lift my legs. Coming back into the house Mom yelled, "Is something wrong, dear?"

"Nah, I'm just trying to clear my head. Calc is so hard."

"I wish I could help you," said my dad.

"Oh, you're home. I didn't hear you come in."

"Yes, and your mother told me you signed the pledge. I'm so proud of you. Here, give me a hug."

Oh you Devil, even hugging my father makes me think of sex. Am I damned then? I remembered what they said: The Devil tempts you to test you. Don't give in to evil thoughts. "Goodnight Daddy," I said and broke away and ran back up stairs.

I don't know how, but I finally got going on the Calculus again. I could hardly keep my eyes open, We'd been up late sitting around the campfire singing hymns. My bed looked better and better. But I couldn't go to sleep, even as tired as I was. Images of the Bachelor swam in my mind. I got out of bed and put on two pairs of shorts, and clasped my Bible in my arms. Even so, the muscles in my groin were clenching and unclenching and the results were decidedly sexy. Is this masturbation? I wondered.

Did I sleep or was Satan at work? I dreamed Jimmy was on top of me and I could feel his devil snake inside of me. I sat up, suddenly awake. I was so ashamed. The devil snake was my fingers, masturbating me in my sleep. I despaired, I couldn't even trust myself in my sleep!

If I slept at all, I certainly didn't get any rest. I was tired and grouchy all day, the more so when I learned that almost all my Calculus problems were wrong–so wrong, I couldn't believe I'd done them. The rest of the week went like that. There was no refuge for me. Saturday afternoon, I borrowed the car and drove to church to talk to Pastor Bob.

"I need help, Pastor. I'm being deviled by impure thoughts. I don't know what to do."

"It isn't easy to be a sister of Christ, Mona. You are surrounded by temptations. But if you pray, I'm sure you will win out."

"But I tried all the things they told us to at the retreat and I'm still being plagued."

"Will you kneel with me and pray?"

We knelt down and prayed together. Pastor Bob put his hands on my head. "Feel the spirit, Mona," he intoned. I tried my hardest, but the spirit eluded me.

"I have a pastoral conference scheduled, so I can't talk with you longer. But I want you to come back later and we'll wrestle with your problem." I didn't like the look in his eyes and vowed not to come back. "Keep the faith, Mona, and God will reward you."

"Thank you." I said stiffly, then I left his office and walked up the stairs. The door to the sanctuary was open and I walked down the aisle and sat in the front pew, praying to Jesus who looked down from above me on his cross. He looked so understanding. I closed my eyes and meditated. What do you want of me, Lord?

Suddenly I awoke. I looked at my watch. At least thirty minutes had passed. I could hear noises coming from the basement. What can that be? I thought.

"Can you feel the holy spirit?" I heard Pastor Bob say.

"Yes, yes. I feel it! I feel it!" I heard. But something didn't sound right. I tiptoed down the stairs and every step I took persuaded me that something wasn't right. "Ah, ah, ah," said Pastor Bob. "Feel the spirit FILL YOU. Do you feel the spirit filling you?"

"Oh yes, yes, yes. It is filling me, filling me, oh God, don't stop filling me with your holy spirit." It sounded like our chastity counselor, Mrs. Savage, but that couldn't be right. The door to Pastor's office has a small window. I fought with my better angel a moment, then I sneaked a peak. Pastor Bob was on top of Mrs. Savage, whose legs were wrapped around his naked butt, holding him tight as his white fanny cheeks bounced up and down.

I may be a Christian virgin, but I'm not so naïve I didn't know what they were doing. I ran from the church like I was being pursued by the devil, all my illusions shattered.

I felt so cheated. I'm burning with desire and these guys are preaching to me about Chastity. Is it all a sham? My head was spinning and I was half way home before I realized I'd left the car at church.

When I got home I went straight to my room and threw myself on top of my bed where I lay staring at the ceiling. The image of Pastor Bob on top of Mrs. Savage was etched in my mind and my mind was transmitting impulses to my body, which I was fighting like the Devil, shivering from the heat--fighting my hands' desire to slip down between my legs. Maybe it won't be so bad if I keep my hands outside my jeans I thought, but I still felt guilty as I let my hands win. Soon my jeans were soaking where my fingers rubbed through them trying to find my inner warmth and my fingers smelled as I realized when I held them to my nose. I couldn't stand it. I ripped open my fly and reached in. Too tight. I slipped my jeans down below my knees and let my fingers in as far as they could go. My heels dug into the bed and lifted my hips to meet my greedy fingers as I explored my secret place. It felt so good. Satan, let me go. Suddenly I shuddered and then slowly found myself at peace again.

I awoke to rapping on my door. "Dinner's ready." I sat up. What are my jeans doing down around my knees? I thought. Oh, yeah, I remember. Ugh, they smell. I quickly changed them and my panties and rushed down to the table.

"Isn't this early for dinner?" I asked.

"Have you forgotten your meeting? It's Saturday night."

Oh, right, I thought. Chastity club. Shit. "Do I have to go? I have tons of homework."

"But you have all day tomorrow."

"I guess."

"You know how important it is to have the support of your friends in keeping to your commitment," she said.

"Okay, Mother. Can I have the car again?"

"Your dad needs it, but I bet Mike Grady, across the street, will give you a ride home. Why don't you call him?"

I wasn't happy to be at the meeting and I sat at the back hardly paying attention. "Tonight we are all here to support each other in our commitment to be pure in heart and body. Does anyone have anything to share with us? Yes George."

"I need more help in– ah– you know, keeping my hands off myself at night. I keep telling myself I won't ever do it again, but every night I'm just too weak. I know I'm letting God down, but I'm just not strong enough." Some of the guys were sort of snickering but if you caught their eyes, they looked very earnest.

"You aren't letting God down. You're letting yourself down. Does anyone have anything that will help George?"

"The chastity web page says to wear an extra pair of pants to bed. Does that work?"

"At the revival they said to use aversion therapy, you might try that."

"Well, I'm sure we all hope George will find the strength. Maybe if we all pray together." I hardly paid attention. I wondered if George and I were the only ones. The prayer came to an end.

"Thank you for sharing with us, George. Let's give him a hand everyone. That's nice. Now, how are the rest of you doing?" Pastor Bob looked around. I think all he must have seen was the tops of everybody's heads, because everyone I could see was staring at the floor, which made me pretty sure I wasn't the only one.

The meeting seemed to go on forever and then I found myself in the car with Mike, driving home. "I don't know about this," he said. "I think everyone's lying like hell. That's what I think. Did you see the expression on everyone's face when PB asked if we were keeping our commitment."

I blushed. "So, what are you saying, Mike? I didn't hear you volunteering anything."

"Look, I have my flaws, but I'm not about to parade them in front of everybody, especially when I'm sure everyone else is either lying or just failing to admit what's really going on. Sometimes I think this is just a big shuck."

I felt like admitting to him that I knew at least three of us were guilty besides George–me and Pastor Bob and Mrs. Savage, but it was too embarrassing. I just sat as quietly as I could and let him talk, something he appeared to be fond of doing.

That evening I looked up 'Christian Masturbation' in Google. One webpage had about fifteen pages of sermonizing on the subject including the following:

The Bible has no problem talking about sex, but the people of God have somehow gotten the message that it is a subject best not mentioned - especially that "dirty little habit" called masturbation. Little do we realize that by keeping this issue in darkness, we are playing right into Satan's hand. Darkness is where he keeps people isolated, ignorant, afraid, shameful and hopeless. Modern psychology and medicine would have us believe that masturbation is healthy and natural, persuading many Christian leaders to communicate the same message.

I felt so guilty that I resolved to read the Bible for the rest of the evening. Please God, give me strength. I took down the presentation Bible I was given when I was born again, and it fell open–to the Song of Solomon. That's funny, I've never heard of this book.

The song of songs, which is Solomon's. Let him kiss me with the kisses of his mouth: for thy love is better than wine

What have I got myself into? I thought.

The beams of our house are cedar, and our rafters of fir. A bundle of myrrh is my well-beloved unto me; he shall lie all night betwixt my breasts. My beloved is unto me as a cluster of camphire in the vineyards of Engedi. Behold, thou art fair, my love; behold, thou art fair; thou hast doves' eyes. Behold, thou art fair, my beloved, yea, pleasant: also our bed is green. The beams of our house are cedar, and our rafters of fir.

This is really cool, I thought, what's it doing in the Bible? I read on. It was a love poem written by a woman. Then I got to the following:

"By night on my bed I sought him whom my soul loveth: I sought him, but I found him not."

I thought, that sounds like me, except I don't even know who his is. Then I thought, it's almost like they are condoning masturbation. I kept reading. I couldn't help thinking that it was in favor of love, and that the body of your beloved is a beautiful thing to behold. How come nobody ever talks about this part of the Bible?

The next week Dad was out of town with the car and so Mike agreed to drive me both ways. Maybe I should say a few words about Mike. He has always been way over my head, status wise, and we've never made an attempt to pal around even though he lives across from me. He is an unusual guy, to say the least. He is quarterback on the football and one of the most popular guys in school. He also is in the running for valedictorian and had the best SAT's of anybody where I go to school. In his junior year he was born again and has been a spokesman for having a personal relationship with Christ ever since.

The meeting was the same old same old. Mrs. Savage somehow coaxed somebody into admitting they'd been impure and then everybody would applaud them for confessing. One of the girls even admitted she'd let her boyfriend pet her through her blouse. She cried as everyone circled around her and hugged her in a great big mob of people. Then we picked her up and passed her around the room above our heads while she screamed and giggled with pleasure.

On the way home Mike was in a sour mood. "I think this is bunk."

"You do? Why?"

"I just don't think Jesus cares if I beat off at night."

I gasped.

"Well, do you?"

"Do I what?"

"Huh? "You didn't think I was asking if you . . . ah . . . you know what I mean. "I was asking if you think Jesus has a position on the subject of masturbation."

"Oh."

"Well, do you?"

"To tell the truth, I never thought about it. I just sort of accepted that everybody was right."

"Well, let me know when you have thought about it. I'll tell you something true, though. I masturbate all the time and I don't think there's anything wrong with it. I'll tell you something else. The only difference between me, and the rest of them, is that I'm telling you the truth. I can show you scientific surveys and studies and they all agree that everybody does it."

"Don't look at me like that."

"Like what?"

"Like you know what."

"Was I looking at you like that? I didn't mean to."

"You didn't mean to, but you were thinking that, weren't you."

"I don't think I want to talk about it."

"Ha! See!"

"Well, I'm sorry. Okay? Don't make a big thing about it. I didn't say anything and it isn't nice to imagine you know what other people are thinking; that's what I think."

"Don't be a big grouch about it, okay. I was just kidding. You just punched my button, that's all."

"I'm sorry, then."

"No I'm sorry, and I'll tell you something else. You're right, and that's why it stung."

"Well, it wasn't nice of me to make a big deal about it."

"No, I'm actually the one who did that, but let's drop it. I'd rather talk about masturbating." There was a long silence. I laughed. He laughed.

I broke the silence with a question. Why do you think everybody makes such a big thing about it, then? If it isn't wrong, why do they do it?"

"I think it's a big power trip, that's all."

"I don't get it."

"If someone can put you down and make you feel guilty, they can manipulate that guilt to make themselves superior kinds of people and everybody looks up to them and looks to them for advice and they're big deals. Little old ladies love them and, oh, what the hell. This is all too cynical."

"There's got to be more to it than that. That's what I think." We were pulling up to the driveway. "See ya."

The next day I went to church, but instead of being a soul satisfying experience, it had become a cynical recognition of the importance of being seen at church. Pastor Bob hadn't destroyed my faith in the church, but he had destroyed my interest in hearing what he thought about religion. I almost wished I had ratted him out and told Mother what I saw. Maybe I wouldn't have had to put up with his preaching anymore.

Since it was Sunday, I went down to the family room to watch Pro Football. I thought, that's funny, the video player is on. Just for curiosity I pushed play and turned on the TV. There is a couple standing outside in the sunshine. He is unbuttoning her blouse and when he finishes she takes it off, revealing a bikini top. She reaches up and rubs her breasts outside the thin strip of fabric of her top.

I am immediately in her skin. She reaches down and unfastens her capri's and steps out of them. I take a big breath.

She reaches down into her suit and strokes her crotch and my crotch feels it. I reach down. The house is silent, only the quiet whrrr of the video machine and the sound of my zipper coming down as I step out of my jeans, leaving them in a pile on the floor. My hands are rubbing my crotch outside of my undies, and when the porn star reaches inside her panties so do I.

My eyes snap back to the screen as it shifts to the young man who is standing there watching his woman please herself.

He takes her in his arms from behind her and reaches inside her top pushing it up around her neck in the process. She arches back into him as he reaches around to take a nipple into his mouth. Her hands are stroking the bulge in the front of his jeans.

I gasp as she unsnaps his pants and pulls them down, allowing him to kick them off as she takes his cock into her hands. It looks bigger than I imagined from the seeing the bulges in guys' pants.

She is fondling him in her hands, weighing his balls; they're big too. His cock looks bigger than it did and it's sticking out a little. She squats in front of him and takes it in her mouth and then grasps his balls with her fingers. His cock shivers as she licks down its length and then takes the tip of it into her mouth again. He arches his hips and more of his cock disappears into her mouth.

She grabs his balls as she pulls back and his cock is a different kind of thing, now. It stands erect, so now I know what that means.

He pulls her up and kisses the mouth that was just around his cock. His erection stands straight up, arching back to bounce on his belly button. Long strings of goo hang down. He pulls her bikini bottom down and steadies her as she steps out of them. Then he takes a knee and lowers her down on a blanket on the ground.

I push 'off.' I am trying to take in what I am seeing. I take the remote and sit down on the davenport, stand up again, take my panties off and sit.

I push play, again.

He is naked now. His face is between her legs and he starts to smell her vagina. His smile transfixes her face. He licks up the length of her slot. She digs her feet into the ground and lifts her hips to meet his tongue. I reach down and put my hand over my slit. It is open. I brush my fingers lightly along the outer lips feeling my hairs stand up and reach for the fingers as they pass.

He is licking her deeply now, and the camera has zoomed in to where I can see how swollen the flesh of her vulva is as it squirms under his tongue. Deep inside her I see a glistening hole. I reach into a hole that glistens just like it between my thighs and find moisture there. I bring it to my eyes and rub my fingers together. I sniff them. That's me, I think. I taste each one. Ummmm. The flavor brings saliva to my mouth and it is sticky. I reach back down to my vagina and my sticky fingers slide around easily. Now my fingers are trying to find the bottom of the hole and there isn't any.