Confessions

It was past ten at night when Daniel finally got up the courage to walk into the small church. He passed it nearly every day on his way to work, but this was the first time he had ever been inside. Part of this was because he was raised Baptist, not Catholic, and another part was simply that Daniel wasn't really the pious type any more. He'd made his peace with "God" a long time ago, or at least he had thought so until he went to that damn conference. He walked quietly through the vestibule and found his way to the chapel, taking a seat in the very back and absorbing his surroundings.

It was a pleasant little place, even though Daniel felt rather like an intruder. There weren't very many of the faithful in attendance at this time of night, just a scattered handful of souls, perhaps some as lost as Daniel's own was. An elderly priest was busy lighting candles beneath a large crucifix that adorned the far wall, and not for the first time Daniel wondered why people chose to celebrate Jesus' death rather than his life. It was one of the questions that had ultimately driven a wedge between himself and organized religion in general. This was the first time he'd been in a church since his divorce six years ago. His frigid bitch of an ex-wife had been the devout one.

No one paid Daniel any mind as he sat quietly contemplating what he'd come here to do. He was an unobtrusive figure, mild in appearance and manner, just another forty-ish professional who had the look of someone obsessively neat. His hair and nails were clean and trimmed short, and he'd chosen to put on a tie for his visit tonight, just to look a little more presentable and less like a deviant. Still, he half expected the tiny congregation to stand up, point at him, and scream "blasphemer" any second now. Daniel adjusted his glasses and lowered his head, pretending to pray as he considered getting the hell out of here and giving up on this whole crazy idea. Tomorrow, he'd call a therapist like a normal person. But the anonymity of the church was what kept him in his seat, Daniel simply didn't want to talk to anyone who would know his name. He sat there with his head bowed for nearly half an hour, silently arguing with himself as one by one, the other worshippers departed until he was nearly alone. Deciding that it was now or never, Daniel rose from the pew and made his way toward the confessionals that stood beneath the smallish stained-glass windows.

Having never been in a confessional before, Daniel only knew the basic procedure from movies. He let himself into the small booth and took a seat on the hard, wooden bench placed inside. The only decorations were another dead Jesus, crucified on the wall before him, and a closed window that separated him from the other booth. Daniel sat patiently, turning his story over and over in his head and wondering if he could possibly find the guts to share it, even with a stranger he'd never see again. But his sleep was getting worse and he had to try something to make peace with himself before he drove himself crazy.

It was only a few moments before he heard the door to the other booth open and the priest rustling around in his seat. Daniel batted down one last urge to bolt from the confessional and waited until the small window slid open, his view of the man on the other side obscured by wooden mesh.

"Uh..." Daniel began, reciting the words as best he could. "Bless me, Father, for I think I've sinned pretty bad. I should tell you that I'm not Catholic and this is my first confession, so I don't really know how this works."

"Bless you, my son," came a warm, reassuring voice from the other side of the grill. "This is the house of the Lord and it is open to all. Speak freely, for your confession will be held in the strictest confidence."

"Thanks," was all Daniel could think of by way of response. He took a deep breath or two, steeling himself for what he had to say, and hoped that the priest wasn't easily shocked.

"I work as a personal counselor," he began without preamble. "I work with married couples, children, sometimes whole families. I love my work and I'm pretty good at it, if I do say so myself. Anyway, not long ago there was a big conference I attended, and I wound up sharing a room with a gent who was - and I'm being polite here - an unbearable, pompous ass. When things wound down for the evening, I had no desire to go back to the room, so I hung around in the bar for a while. It was a nice one, this being a pretty fancy hotel, and I nursed a beer and ended up in a conversation with the man sitting next to me. Sometimes I wonder what would have happened if I'd just gone up to my room and gone to sleep."

"We talked for quite a while, mostly just chit chat. Where are you from, what do you do for a living, that kind of thing. He was a friendly guy and kind of soft-spoken, but I noticed he kept pressing for details about certain things I'd mention. He liked that I was a counselor and seemed unusually interested in my divorce and my relationship with my ex-wife. He wasn't pushy, but it went beyond the bounds of casual conversation, you know? After about an hour he switched gears and started talking about his wife, which up until then I didn't even know he had. That was when things started getting really personal."

Daniel leaned back and stared at the ceiling for a moment before continuing. This was likely his last chance to chicken out of this. From here on out, he'd be telling this anonymous priest things that he wouldn't dare tell his best friend. But he'd come this far, and he resolved to see this out to the end, for better or worse.

"He and his wife were both in town for the conference like I was. He said she was upstairs and showed me a picture of her and asked me what I thought. I said she was a very beautiful woman. Then as we talked he started dropping odd comments... mentioning things... things she liked in bed. He told me how much she liked it when he was rough and pulled her hair and... did other things."

"Well, I was born at night, but I wasn't born last night. I've spoken with a LOT of people who were dealing with sexual issues and I figured it was something like that. Once I counseled a guy over some homosexual pornography he found on his wife's computer. My new friend was trying to tell me something, I just didn't know what. So I played along until he finally got to the point."

"He said they were deeply in love and this was their tenth wedding anniversary. He wanted to give her something very special that she'd been wanting for a long time. I asked him what it was, and he said he was out shopping for it right as we spoke."

"'Dan', he said to me. 'Would you have any interest at all in raping my wife?'"

Daniel paused in his narrative, letting the revelation sink in. He was half-expecting the priest to kick him out of the confessional and tell him never to come back, but all the man eventually said was "Go on, my son. What did you do?"

"I did a spit take, that's what I did!" He released a humorless bark of laughter and stifled it against his hand. "Do you see this face? You do NOT want to play poker against this face. I thought I could handle anything anyone could throw and not bat an eye, but that one nailed me. But the one thing I didn't do was get up and walk away."

Daniel sighed and wiped his glasses on his shirt. "Looking back, I think if I had any other reaction, he would have told me to forget it. He wasn't looking for a bona-fide rapist, and me... well, I didn't seem threatening." Daniel shrugged at this. His mild demeanor served him well in a job that required people to be at ease around him. "Anyway, once I recovered, he explained what he meant."

"It was a fantasy she had. She wanted to be attacked and fu... oh, nuts to it, forgive me Father. Fucked by a stranger. The more brutal the better. If I made her cry I was doing good. Her husband did his best to give her the kind of rough play she wanted, but her real craving was someone she'd never laid eyes on before. It was an experience she wanted and he wanted her to experience it. That's where I came in."

"The setup was simple. He would give me the card key to their room. She would be wearing a pink silk camisole with matching panties they had bought for tonight, and I was encouraged to shred them. I was to give them half an hour and if either of them changed their mind, he would be waiting in the hall. Otherwise, he would be in the next room listening quietly until it was over."

Daniel took a deep breath. "They had everything planned out. All I had to do was anything I wanted."

"I told him I hadn't gotten laid since Y2K was an issue and he said that was perfect. I explained that I still hadn't gotten over my wife leaving me, and he said that was even more perfect. Notice, please, that none of these things I said was "sorry, you've got the wrong guy", which would have put the whole matter to rest. I didn't say that. Not once. A little while later he gave me his card key and went upstairs."

Daniel paused and regarded his audience through the window that separated them. "Father... that was the longest half hour of my entire life."

He fell silent again, unable to continue. He was getting to the so-called meat of his story and it just got uglier from here. After a time, the faceless priest's voice nearly whispered through the mesh. "It's all right, my son. You can go on, but tell me something. Before these events, had you ever felt... urges to do something like this before?"

"Oh, LORD no!" Daniel replied, genuinely appalled at the thought. "Not like that. My wife wasn't the most affectionate person and sometimes I'd get really frustrated and want to pounce on someone, but it was a vague urge. I swear I've never raised a hand to a woman in my life... or, well... I guess I should say I hadn't at the time."

Daniel took off his glasses and tiredly rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Father, have you ever felt like a spectator in your own life? This was one of those times for me. I was sitting in a classy bar in a classy hotel polishing off my beer and getting ready to go upstairs and rape a woman I only knew by her picture. I don't believe in possession, but this entire night seemed to be happening around me and I was only watching from behind my eyes. I went upstairs to drop off my wallet and glasses, then I ditched my underwear and went commando. One less layer, you know?" He smiled bitterly at this. "Nice and efficient with the details, that's me."

"I knew it was time because I hadn't taken my eyes off the clock since the man handed over his key card and left. Their room was two floors above mine, and I was in the elevator when it really started to sink in. That was a... very bad moment. The fact that I'd been asked to do what I was about to do didn't matter. Then I stepped out onto their floor and the hallway was empty in every direction. I found their room easily enough, and I stood looking at the door for about five minutes. Then I spent about five more staring at the key the man gave me."

Once again, Daniel stopped in his narration. He'd procrastinated long enough and every semi-innocent detail had already been given out. He closed his eyes and an image rose of a door to a ritzy honeymoon suite in some far away city. Room 801. On the other side of that door lay things that Daniel hadn't dared to examine beyond a furtive glance. He sat for a moment with his arms on his knees and his glasses dangling from one hand. Inside, he was furiously scraping together the willpower he needed to continue. If he had enough, it was going to be close.

This time the priest didn't encourage him, but merely waited patiently. At long last, Daniel readied himself for the final hurdle and pressed on. "I can't explain what was going through my head as I stood there," he said. "I wasn't cold, hot, limp, aroused, nervous, eager, disconnected, or anything else I can describe in words. Whatever I was feeling, it was new to me. Then I reached out, swiped the key, and casually walked in."

"They had the honeymoon suite. Elegant, not one of those cheesy ones decorated for Valentine's Day. The drapes were closed and most of the lights were off, but the fireplace was going and I could see by that. There was a deep fur rug that was made for rolling around on and a sofa with lots of pillows. Next to that was a classic-style oak bar, and sitting on the countertop was a bucket with champagne and a bouquet of roses. Further in, I could see they had a king size bed that was slightly raised and faced the windows so you could lie in it and have a view of the skyline. It was romantic, like something out of an Ingrid Bergman movie."

"On the right was the bathroom. It had rolling doors that were open just enough for me to see inside. The woman was standing at the mirror dressed exactly the way I was told she would be; a pink lingerie set that was a little frilly, the sort of thing you'd wear for a lover. She was thirty-ish with long legs and curves and beautiful auburn hair that she was brushing. She was... she was making herself pretty. Then she looked up and saw me in the mirror."

Daniel rubbed his eyes and almost groaned. "Here's the hell of it, Father. This is the part that's given me the most trouble. Up until that moment I was kidding myself. I couldn't even imagine doing something like this. I'd been told in no uncertain terms what was expected of me, but I didn't have a plan or even know how to start. But the instant she saw me in the mirror, I suddenly knew exactly what to do... like it had been there all along, you know?" He put his glasses back on and sat upright, keeping his expression carefully neutral as he reached the grimmest part of his tale.

"When she saw me, she froze in place with the brush halfway through her hair. She really was a beautiful woman, with a sweet, kind face and I saw her go very pale. We stood looking at each other through the mirror for a second or two of real time, but to me it seemed a lot longer."

Daniel took two measured breaths as if preparing to lift something heavy. "Then I rushed her."

"Her eyes went wide and she made a grab for the bathroom door. She was too late and I threw it wide open. She backed away, flung her hairbrush at me, and I felt it whiz by like that." Daniel swept one finger through the air a quarter of an inch from his ear. "She turned to find something else to throw and then I was on her."

"Now her husband had warned me that she liked to fight, but let me tell you that was one strong lady and she fought like I was the Devil himself. I grabbed her from behind and got one arm pinned but she was thrashing and kicking as hard as she could and yelling for me to let go. Not for help, mind you, just for me to let her go. She groped the counter for something to hit me with, but I told her I didn't think so, grabbed her wrist, and swept everything to the floor. I hoisted her off her feet, and for a second we were both looking in the mirror. The camisole she was wearing was loose and kind of clingy and she had... big tits that were bouncing around everywhere. That really excited me. I grabbed one hard enough to make her wince, and she got an elbow loose and nailed me under the eye." Daniel tapped his cheekbone to indicate the spot. "The next day I had a hell of a shiner."

"That," Daniel said with a small shrug, "was when things got rough." He steepled his fingers under his chin like a man trying to solve a confounding math problem. "It was like when she hit me, it knocked something loose. I'd found the headspace, I suppose. It was a glorious feeling of despotism. I wanted to fuck and there was a luscious woman right here. Ergo, she was getting fucked." Daniel realized he was cursing a blue streak in front of a priest, but he was too caught up in finally unburdening himself to care.

"To punish her for hitting me, I grabbed a fistful of her hair and pulled until she squealed in pain. This wasn't playacting, Father, I almost yanked it out of her head. I shoved her into the wall and crushed my body up against hers so she had no room to move. It took some doing, but I got both of her arms under control and pinned her wrists above her head. By this time, I had a raging hard on and I ground it against her ass to make sure she felt it. Her lingerie was silk and kind of slippery and her body was writhing against mine and that just made me want her more."

Daniel was speaking fast now, eager to have the story out and finished. "I muscled her around until she was facing me. I still had her pinned to the wall with my thigh grinding into her crotch. She had her head turned away, and I didn't like that." He gave a small sigh. "My wife would never kiss me, you see. Wasn't big on it in general. Sex I can learn to live without if I have to, but not being allowed to kiss her was the ultimate snub. So I grabbed this beautiful woman under the chin and forced her head around so she was looking at me. I shoved my mouth against hers and she tried to get away, so I..."

Daniel took a deep breath and made a slapping gesture. "Hard. Very hard. She looked at me with her eyes real big like she was too surprised to feel it, so I did it again even harder just to make sure. Then I put my hand around her throat and when I forced my mouth back down on her, she whined but didn't fight this time. That was much better and I told her so."

Daniel looked directly through the window at the vague outline of the priest, his head erect and his chin tilted upward defiantly. It would have been an uncharacteristically prideful pose had his eyes not been so haunted. "And since she was being so compliant, it occurred that there were other things I liked a woman to do with her mouth that were long overdue me."

"I must ask you, my son..." murmured the priest. "Are you certain this woman was truly a willing participant in these violent acts?"

"I didn't care," Daniel said very quietly, and then pressed on with his story as if there had been no interruption.

"I powered her into a sitting position and pinned both her wrists above her head with one hand. She tried to struggle, but I threatened to slap her again and that cowed her long enough for me to get my pants open. She didn't want it, so I yanked on her hair hard enough to make her cry out. Then when her mouth was open I just kind of... shoved it in. She still wasn't doing what I wanted her to do, so I started jerking her head back and forth and thrusting hard enough to make her gag. Finally she miserably started to suck it which was all I was waiting for anyway."

"Coming to the conclusion that this woman was wearing far too many clothes, I drug her to her feet and set about amending that. I still had her arms pinned, so her top had to come off the hard way. It was quality stuff and didn't come apart easily, and the straps left welts on her shoulders by the time I got it off her. Her body was amazing and I was all over it; anything I could reach to grab, bite, or suck on was fair game. I shoved my hand between her legs and her panties were soaked through."

"When I went to kick my pants the rest of the way off, she squirmed away from me and made one last bid for freedom. She didn't get far. I chased her out into the main room and caught her by the hair again. She had a lot of it, so it was excellent for controlling her. I took her down like a deer right in front of the fireplace. Apparently she'd gotten her second wind and I had a monster of a time holding her down. I told you this lady was strong and I wasn't kidding. She was flailing so hard I couldn't grab her arms and she was trying like hell to go for my eyes. We'd knocked some of the pillows off the couch and one was lying next to us. I grabbed it, held it against her face, and..."

For almost a full minute, Daniel said nothing more. Then he closed his eyes and spoke in a voice that was barely audible. "I punched her. It was through a pillow, but I punched her. God forgive me."