BLESS ME, FATHER – JAMES’ CONFESSION

Feature Writer: CORN53
Feature Title: Bless me, Father – James’ confession

BLESS ME, FATHER – JAMES’ CONFESSION

“Bless me, Father, for I have sinned. My last confession was…” I felt myself blushing as I began to dutifully confess my sins to Father Thomas. I knew he would ask about my thoughts and I would have to tell him everything. Father Thomas had recently transferred to St. John’s Parish from somewhere in the Midwest.

“James! Tell me what you were thinking while you touched yourself.” His stern voice brought me back to the present. I was reluctant to tell him about some of my thoughts the last time I was masturbating. I had been worried that he knew my name since he was also my American Literature teacher. Rats. He recognized my voice again. He insisted on calling me James even though everybody else calls me Jim. He called all of us by our proper names, the names on our report cards.

“I was mostly picturing naked girls, Father, like some of the girls in my class. And I remembered seeing up one of the girl’s dresses. I’m going to see her next weekend, too, at the class party. I wondered if maybe she knew I was looking at her when she turned around in her seat. She twisted around to talk to the kid behind her and I could see up her dress – her white panties stretched between her legs.”

“You must learn not to be of the world, my Son. Tell me what else you were thinking. I think you have more to tell me. Confess and get it off your chest. God will forgive you,” he raised his voice, “but only if you are completely honest.”

“This is so embarrassing, Father.”

“Tell me.” He said calmly.

“Well, I was remembering that when we were in the showers after Gym class Wednesday, and like we were all naked, we teased one of the boys who had a…. um… I don’t want to say the word we used.”

“Do you mean an erection?”

“Yes, Father. But we called it a different name.”

“It doesn’t matter what you called it, James. Tell me your thoughts.”

“Well, Father. I was looking at it. It almost seemed like he was proud of it, even though he was acting like he was embarrassed.”

“Why do you say that, James?” Father’s voice was softer.

“He kept turning around, like pretending to hide it while we teased him, but it kind of looked like he was showing off. But, umm, while he was facing the other direction I noticed his bottom seemed more rounded than most of the boys. I don’t know why I noticed that, Father. And it looked for a minute more like a girl’s bottom. Because I used to have pictures of girls from magazines, but I threw them away. Remember? Like a couple weeks ago when you told me to.”

“I remember. Go on. Tell me about your thoughts in the shower, and while you were masturbating.” He said.

“Then I started noticing the other guys’ fannies. Most were like kind of flat, flatter than mine, but some were more rounded. I was starting to get a little stiff, too, while we teased Larry. As I looked at Larry’s erection and his fanny, and the other guys’ fannies I kept getting stiffer. I didn’t want them to start teasing me so I kept washing myself there, like keeping my hands over it. Some of the other boys were doing the same thing.”

“Go on.” He said after a few moments of silence. “What else?”

“That’s all, Father, because then the Gym teacher hollered in that the bell would ring in five minutes. And I didn’t want to be late to your class, Father.”

“OK. It’s good that you are always on time, James. What did you think about when you masturbated? Did you think about the other boys?”

“Yes, Father. Sometimes I thought about naked boys, and sometimes I imagined pictures of girls, or about seeing that girl’s panties, I don’t want to mention her name, and I’m not sure, but maybe she let me look on purpose. Like letting me see up her dress when she knew I was looking.”

“Tell me about your thoughts when you pulled the seed.” That’s how he said “cum.” but I didn’t dare laugh. I knew what he meant. This was the most embarrassing part.

“I was remembering all the fannies in the shower, and how different most boys are from girls, like on their behinds. Girls have rounder bottoms mostly, but like a dent in the front and boys have flatter bottoms but stick way out in front. Especially Larry’s. His erection curved up more than mine and the red tip was more pointed than mine. And…” I stopped.

“And what?” He asked. “You must tell all my son, if you want to be forgiven.”

“Well, I was imagining that I could touch it and hold his… his thing. That’s what I was thinking last time, Father. And I feel bad about it.”

Father Thomas thought for a minute, then said, “James, for your penance I want you to say the usual ten Hail Marys and ten Our Fathers but I also want you to come to the sacristy this afternoon at 4:00. Can you do that? You mustn’t tell anyone. We need to have a talk and I will give you additional penance then. So you will be completely forgiven. Since you used to be an altar boy you could say you’re thinking of helping again if your mother asks where you’re going. We need more of the older boys to help us anyway. But what you just confessed is something new that we need to deal with. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Father.” I said quietly, looking at the floor of the confessional. It smelled like lemon furniture polish, with a hint of incense. A purifying odor. I was ashamed of myself, but felt forgiven, glad that I had told God the truth.

His words in speedy Latin forgave my sins and I left refreshed. Now I could go to communion in the morning with my family, without anyone wondering why I wasn’t going. Too many times I had eaten something and then told Mom I couldn’t go. But that excuse wouldn’t work anymore since we weren’t supposed to go in the kitchen before church on Sundays.

I hopped on my bike and headed back home. It would be good to put on some shorts and head for the park. I had my driver’s license, but still rode my bike most of the time since it was such a hassle to beg for the car for short trips.

At four ‘o clock I knocked on the door to the sacristy. My bike leaned against the green, copper downspout at the corner of the church in the back. Father Thomas opened the heavy wood door looking at his watch. It was after four but not by much. I hoped he wasn’t too mad. He would get very angry when students were late for his class.

He sounded stern but also seemed glad to see me. “You’re seven minutes late, James.” Father Thomas said as he closed his pocket watch and slipped it into his black cassock with the 200 buttons down the front. In class we used to try to count how many buttons there were, but always gave up and said 200, kind of for a joke. But we knew better than to joke with him. He seemed to have several secret pockets that held his watch, pens, his glasses, and so on. He locked the door behind us.

“I’m sorry, Father. I didn’t realize it was so late, but I would have also been late if I had told Mom I needed the car because then she would have kept asking me questions. But she would have been happy if I told her I was thinking of being an altar boy again, even though I would be one of the oldest.”

He smiled. I hardly ever remember him smiling. “It’s OK, James. You might need to come here for several Saturdays, and even some days after school, but you won’t have to become an altar boy. I know that the students tease the older altar boys as sissies. They have to be strong to take the taunting.”

He held up his right forefinger, like he did in class when he had something important to say. “But sometimes we have to accept embarrassment while we serve the Lord, while we accept our penance, or learn to control ourselves. We must obey implicitly without question. Isn’t that right?”

“Yes, Father.” I sure hoped he wasn’t going to ask me to be one of the altar boys. That would be the end of me getting dates with girls from our school.

He intruded on my thoughts with the raised finger again and I snapped to attention from habit. “So you understand that sometimes we must follow orders, even if we don’t understand the orders at first?”

“Yes, Father.” I looked down at the polished wood parquet floor between the built in cabinets and the thick oriental carpet. I saw the shadows of the tree branches outside swaying across the dark wood, which always seemed to be freshly waxed. The small, diamond-shaped, leaded glass panes distorted the shadows as the limbs outside swayed in the spring breeze.

“James, you must follow my instructions completely and without question while I punish you for your naughty thoughts about other boys and girls. Will you do that?” His voice told me he was not joking. It was stern and serious.

“Yes, Father. But I already said the prayers.”

“Good boy. Now repeat this after me, here before God.”

I repeated his words, “I solemnly vow to keep all these punishment sessions secret. I will never tell anyone how God has chosen to instruct me. This will remain my secret until death. I swear this before God.”

“Very good, James. The things you confessed to me this morning were new and very nasty thoughts. The images you entertained while you masturbated must be purged from your mind and soul. I must teach you a lesson. You want to go to Heaven, don’t you?”

“Yes, Father. Of course I do.” At the same time I remembered one of the boys in my class saying, “Heaven is like Santa Clause.” I don’t know why that popped into my head, but I knew Father Thomas was serious and this was no time for philosophical questions.

“First of all, James, I want you to know that your sins are forgiven, even for today as you reenact your sin as part of your punishment. I’m telling you to do these things so you are already forgiven.”

“Yes, Father.” My tummy felt tight. I was aware of perspiring, but it wasn’t from my bike ride. I felt anxious.

“Come over here with me, James.” He took my hand and led me across the room. It was quiet in the big sacristy, with the high windows, thick rugs, stuffed furniture, and vestments on hangers by the large closets. The doors were always open to those big closets. The thick purple draperies were partially closed so it was darker and more somber in the sacristy, as dark, quiet, and somber as the church itself.

There was a heavy, old wooden card table set up in front of a stuffed chair. A purple towel lay over the corner of the table like a tablecloth. Father Thomas sat on the front edge of the big chair. “Take off your clothes, James.”

I hesitated. “Go on!” he ordered. “You must be punished for your sins.”

“Yes, Father.” I hurriedly undressed and faced away from him, expecting a spanking. I realized that my own punishment was nothing compared to what Jesus had to face at the hands of his tormentors. A crucifix on each wall reminded me that my punishment today was insignificant. I knew I deserved to be punished.

“Turn around and face me, James. Keep your hands at your side.”

“Yes, Father.” I turned to face him. The wood floor felt cool to my bare feet.

“Remember to keep your hands at your sides. You must follow directions. You must accept this punishment as part of your penance.”

“Yes, Father.” I felt flushed all over and knew that when I blushed my pale skin got bright red.

I flinched as he took my penis in his right hand. “So this is the object that causes you so much sin, my son?”

“Yes, Father.”

“James, are you familiar with the New Testament, ‘If thine eye is a source of temptation it would be better to cast it off?'”

I took a step backwards. “Yes, something like that. It’s scary.” He heard the fear in my voice.

“Yes, James. It’s very scary. But you needn’t worry about any ‘casting away’ today.” He pulled me back towards him with a tug on my penis. “I want you to demonstrate how you masturbate. I will spank you as part of your penance in a moment. You must also tell me your thoughts as I remind you of the things you confessed. I see you are circumcised. Very good.”

“OK, but I don’t know if I can with someone watching me. I’ve never done that.”

“I understand. Close your eyes. Begin. I may touch you from time to time to check your progress. Now I want you to imagine seeing a girl’s panties. I will tell you different things to imagine. Sometimes I will tell you to stop.”

I began trying to masturbate with my right hand and tickling my balls with my left hand. I wasn’t stiff yet, and it was difficult to picture Marti turning around in her seat when I saw her panties Thursday.

“Put your left hand on top of your head, James. Keep going. Keep your eyes closed. Imagine her panties. Tell me.”

“Yes, Father.” But it was more difficult to concentrate now, with his right hand cupping my balls. He was tickling them the same way I did, except it felt better. He pulled them forward and released them slowly, tickling the peach fuzz on my balls with his fingernails. His hands were bigger than mine and he had a gentle touch.

I guess he could tell I was having trouble because he told me to put both hands on top of my head. Then he tickled my balls and pulled on my penis, turning it this way and that. Whenever he let go it flopped down, even though now it was about half stiff.

“Keep your eyes closed, James. Don’t move unless I move you. Tell me your thoughts. The girl first.”

“She turned around in her desk at school. We were in Problems of Democracy class, you know, with the old fashioned chair-desks. And her dress was tight between her legs on top of her legs, and she was sitting on most of the pleated part of her uniform, so the top was straight across, and high across her thighs. I could see her underwear from just one seat back in the next row. We’re near the back of the class. I think she knew where I was looking because she looked at me for just a second as she turned around to talk to the girl behind her. She didn’t try to push her skirt down between her legs and she didn’t put her knees together. Maybe she opened them even more, I’m not sure. But she didn’t look over at me, but kept talking with Ellen. With her legs apart. Her panties were silky white and stretched tight across her … her… you know.”

“Yes, I know. Very good description, James. And perhaps she did want you to look. Could you see her panties stretched across her pubic mound ?”

“Yes, Father.” I was getting stiffer as I thought about Marti’s panties again. I knew I was turning bright red again, embarrassed by my growing stiffness. He told me to close my eyes and not move while he got something.

“Yes, Father.” I said meekly, as he got up and went across the room. I was facing away from him now and knew better than to try to see where he was.

He came back and sat down; told me to open my eyes; and showed me seven large manila envelopes. “This may help you, my son.”

He put the envelopes on the table and motioned for me to look at them while he took my penis and balls in his hands again. I was now standing sideways to him now. Each envelope had a name on it, printed in his fancy calligraphic writing. Andrea, Walter, Mark, Suzanne, Lenore, and several other names. Under the name in smaller letters it said, “In God’s Service.” He spanked me softly with his right hand and said I could pick one envelope.

“These are other naughty boys and girls I’ve helped from other high schools. They have also been punished like you. I will take a series of pictures of you, too, James, as part of your punishment. Tuesday after school. And next Saturday. Photos, and perhaps videos, while you accept your punishments – as part of your penance. You will start out in your white shirt and tie, and of course your uniform pants when you come here after school.”

He looked at me, smiling as I blushed again.

“These boys and girls knew that other bad children and adults were going to see their pictures. See their pictures and videos. While they were naked and reenacting their sins. That embarrassment was part of their punishment, just as it’s part of your punishment. Which series would you like to look at today to help you finish the demonstration or your sin?”

I could feel my penis getting harder as I wondered about the contents in each of these envelopes. I was also considering getting photos taken of me. Photos and video that other kids and even grown-ups would see of me. Naked. Committing my sin. Imagining other people looking at pictures of me made me get completely stiff. I knew it was sticking up and forward, five inches. Hard as a rock. His big, dry hand sliding gently up and down it. I could feel myself blushing. I knew that Father Thomas could tell I was stiff, but I wasn’t allowed to put my hands down or to turn around.

“Would you rather see a boy or a girl today, James?” I didn’t answer right away, thinking about the possibilities as I looked through the names again. It felt like there must be at least a few dozen pictures in each envelope, maybe more. Five by seven inch photos, it felt like. I wanted to see them all! And videos? I wanted to watch the videos.

“Take a moment to decide, James. You can pick one packet each time you come for another punishment session.” He must have noticed I was fully stiff but he didn’t mention it. His fingers gently stroked up and down my shaft while the fingers of his left hand reached between my legs from in back and continued to tickle my balls.

“Do the pictures show everything? Could I see the videos, too?”

He smiled and patted my bottom, not a spanking. It sounded like somebody clapping his hands slowly – as Father Thomas patted my hairless bottom. I was glad he hadn’t commented on my lack of chest hair. It kind of embarrassed me in the locker room – to have hardly any body hair except for a tuft of pubic hair. Thank goodness none of the boys had commented on it.

“Yes, the photos and videos show a sinner – a boy or a girl – undressing and then demonstrating their sins in front of the camera. They each got spankings. Sometimes posing for close ups. And yes, the boys pull the seed.” I could feel him watching me.

“Margaret.” I said finally.

He stopped patting my bottom and took the envelopes from me. He put all of them except Margaret’s behind his back on the big chair. “Close your eyes, James, while I lay out the first pictures on the table. I have 50 to 100 pictures of each of these naughty girls or boys, and a video of most of then, except you can’t see any of their videos today. I will only show you a few pictures at a time. You aren’t to touch them without permission. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Father.” I said quickly, eager to see what Margaret looked like.

“You may look now, James.” He began stroking me again. “Next time you come for your punishment I will let you watch the video of Margaret, see her photos again, and pick out one other sinner to look at. She had to undress several different times and demonstrate her sin. She got spanked as part of her punishment. Spanked hard. But she accepted her punishments and was forgiven.”

The first picture showed Margaret fully dressed in a school uniform – white blouse, plaid jumper, white ankle socks and black pumps. She was cute. Not beautiful, but cute. Looked like a soccer player, but dressed in her school uniform. Margaret was dark blond, with a pigtail on either side of her head tied with a white ribbon. She was smiling tentatively at the camera sitting in a school desk, and then standing next to the chalkboard which showed partially erased algebra problems. They were graphing inequalities like we did in Algebra One. She was thin but not skinny and looked younger than me. Maybe the braces on her teeth made her look younger. For some reason I couldn’t explain, I sensed she wasn’t a great student or a rich girl. I couldn’t even tell how big her breasts were in the loose blouse and red, plaid jumper. The picture of her holding up her skirt in back, just to the edge of her white panties caught my eye. She was facing away from the camera, hips against a bare teacher desk, and looking around at the camera. There was a mixed look of fear and tease in her eyes, as if she knew strangers would see these pictures of her.

“Tell me when you are ready to see the next group of Margaret’s punishment pictures, James. And tell me when you are ready to pull your seed so that we don’t get any on the photos.”

“Yes, Father. I’m ready for the next pictures. I’m not going to pull my seed for a while yet. Would you like me to turn over the pictures?” I wanted to see the rest of these before cumming.

He laughed and caught himself. “OK. You may turn over the next group.”

I took my right hand off the top of my head and flipped over the next dozen pictures. It reminded me of playing solitaire as I took one at a time off the “deck” of photos.

Margaret was getting ready for a spanking, pulling her white, cotton panties down, after lifting her skirt in front to show her panties to the photographer and whoever else would see these photos of her punishment. I suspected Father Thomas was also the photographer, especially since he said he would be taking pictures of me.

Suddenly the thought of me posing, and other people seeing pictures of me being spanked on my bare bottom made me get even harder. Father Thomas must have noticed because he squeezed my penis in his hand and asked me if I was going to pull.

“No, Father, not yet. May I turn over the next pictures?”

“Yes.”

The way he was tickling my balls and the sight of these pictures of a Catholic girl were really getting me ready. I wanted to see the rest of Margaret’s pictures, especially now that she was pulling down her panties.

In this series she pulled them down and stepped out of them, bent over the desk and flipped her skirt up in back. There were two close ups of her bottom as she put her legs apart to get ready for her spanking. The last picture showed her hands on her fanny, pulling her cheeks apart to reveal her pale, pink anus stretched wide. Her vagina was also pulled open and looked very wet with kind of a silvery-white slickness. The few pubic hairs she had were blond, too. I stared at the pictures.

The slap on my fanny took me by surprise. “Bend over farther, James. I need to give you ten spankings while you look at the pictures. First pull your bottom open and show me. This is part of your embarrassment treatment. That’s it. Wider. Stretch so hard it almost hurts. Good boy.”

I pulled my fanny open and turned slightly so he could see. His left hand reached between my legs and continued to tickle my balls or lightly spank me. He touched me right in the center of my stretched open anus. Each time his finger stroked over my hole I felt it twitch a little bit. Sometimes he patted his finger right on my anus and made me flinch, but it didn’t hurt like the spank did. His right hand stroked me. I kept looking at the pictures and wondered if Margaret got the same treatment.

“Does this embarrass you, James, to have your bottom pulled open so wide?”

“Yes.”

He gave me nine spankings. Harder ones. They stung a little bit, but he said he had spanked Margaret much harder. “I spanked her much harder than this, James. And so did the others. Several of the church benefactors spanked Margaret.”

Next I had to stand over the corner of the card table and spread out more pictures. I didn’t cover the one of Margaret pulling her bottom open as I laid out the next group of pictures. She began undressing again in this series of pictures. The last one showed her in her bra and panties. Nothing else. She was blushing – a bright red – and the close up of her face showed her nervous, self-conscious smile. The braces stretched the sides of her upper lip.

It seemed like I was about ready to cum, holding my bottom open again. Father Thomas was stroking me very gently.

“Pick out your favorite picture, James, and then stand against the corner of the table.”

I picked two close ups, her face, and her pulled-open fanny, and the one showing her completely as she stood in her bra and panties. He scooted the other pictures back into the envelope.

“Face me now, James. You may hold one of the pictures to look at. Left hand on your head.”

I held the one of Margaret with her fanny pulled open. He waited until I was facing him. As he began to stroke me again he said, “You are a nice looking young man, James. Thin. Even the hair on your body is thin. None on your chest or fanny.” His hand felt my chest and rubbed back and forth from my right to left. Father Thomas reminded me just to look at the photo. “And you don’t have much pubic hair yet, although you are mature enough to commit that sin.”

I kept looking at the pictures while he touched me, not sure what he was going to explain. “Margaret helped me with special, private fundraisers for the church. Very small groups. She accepted her spankings as her punishment. Week after week. Margaret received a plenary indulgence for her sacrificial service to the church. We paid for her braces. We helped her family with food, clothing.

I may let you help with God’s work in this way, too. But first we must purge your sins. Then perhaps you could help me convince a few wealthy donors to contribute to our parish. Do you want to help our parish, James?”

“Yes, Father. I will help you.” I remembered overhearing one of the parishioners at church saying she had heard that Father Thomas had a reputation for raising money. Our parish was in a poor neighborhood so they were glad to have someone who could help our church raise funds from some of the wealthy suburbs.

“Good boy. Now turn around and lay the rest of the pictures over the table wherever you want, James. You must bend slightly because I will spank you sometimes or feel your bottom during this final phase of today’s punishment. I will put baby oil on my hands and fingers. Then I will be able to tell when you are about to pull your seed because I will feel your bottom squeezing on my finger. You just look at the pictures. I will punish you for your impure thoughts about boys when I see you after school this week. Tell me when your seed is ready. Remember that this is not a sin because I’m telling you to do it for a demonstration. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Father.” I said while laying out the rest of the pictures. Margaret was now taking off her bra and panties, once again revealing her sparse, blond bush. There was another set of pictures of her starting all over with a different blouse on. Only a dozen pictures in that set as Margaret undressed. To my surprise all her pubic hair was gone when she pulled down her lacey, pink bikini panties. There was a close up of her clean, bald pussy. It looked wet to me when she did the bending over, pulling-open pose. The last shot showed a naked Margaret, a shy, self-conscious smile on her face, standing next to the chalkboard again. Fancy letters on the green chalkboard said, “I had impure thoughts, but now I am clean.” I was wondering about the change in how her pussy looked when I started to cum. She was totally naked except for her shoes, and her pussy was bald, as she stood beside the chalkboard and smiled at the camera.

Father surprised me when he pushed a finger into my anus. His finger was slippery with the oil as he slid it farther in me. I didn’t lower my hands, but kept looking at the pictures. He stroked me faster with his oily right hand as he pressed a finger deep into my anus. It felt so strange.

“Ohhh.” I said, as I squirted onto the towel on the corner of the card table. Father bent me over so I was closer to the pictures. My cum landed on the towel with some against my tummy. He pulled out his finger when I was finally done cumming, and patted my bottom. He told me I was forgiven.

He wiped the cum off my tummy with my underwear and said he would keep them. “You don’t want to put these dirty, sticky underpants back on.”

He held the underpants around my penis and squeezed out the rest of my cum.

I think he was reading my mind because he said, “You can’t keep any of the pictures, James. Turn around and pull open your bottom like Margaret did. I will wipe you off and let you get dressed.

“Pull wider, James. That’s a boy.” He pushed his big finger all the way in me again while he tickled my balls from behind. He removed his finger and wiped me off. “When you pull your seed as part of your penance it is not a sin. Don’t do it on your own. Tuesday you may pick out another recalcitrant sinner to look at. And,” he paused. “… Maybe I will show you one or two of the videos.”

As I left the sacristy I wondered about Margaret’s lack of pubic hair in the third series of pictures. I wondered about the pictures and video he was going to take of me after school. I would have to wear my new underwear, that’s for sure! My erection returned while riding my bike home. The air blowing up my shorts without my underwear on tickled me.

I had promised before God not to talk to anyone about my punishment, and I was determined to do whatever Father Thomas told me to do, even if it was embarrassing. I sure didn’t want to go to hell, and I also wanted to see those other envelopes. And the videos! Wow. There would be an envelope of me pretty soon! Pictures of me undressing. Pictures of me getting a spanking. And I wonder what he wants me to do to help raise money for the church?

THE END