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.
"Go on."
"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.
"Bend over."
Instantly her head flew up and she looked at him in shock.
"What, Father?"