Feeling very strange, Heather unbuttoned her school blouse and stripped it off, putting it on the seat. She unclipped her bra and put it aside as well. It was very weird to look down and see her bare breasts in the dim light of the confessional.
“Are you ready yet, Heather?” He asked impatiently.
“Um, yes, Father but — oooh!”
She shivered as his cool hand took hold of her left breast, now with nothing between them. She thought she heard him make a strange groaning sound as his fingers squeezed her bare flesh. Another gasp escaped her as the hand found her nipple and pinched it, a wave of electric sensation running down her body.
“Oooh, Father, it feels funny!”
“Sssh, Heather. Hmmm, yesss, very nice,” He was mumbling, his hand mauling both her breasts. “Yes, so young and firm.”
“Father? What do you mean?”
“Sssh.”
Heather bit her lip and tried to ignore the odd feeling of her chest being pushed, pulled and massaged. She also tried to ignore the priest’s heavy breathing and muttering.
“Heather?” He said eventually, still squeezing her right boob.
“Um, yes, Father?” She squeaked.
“Well, uh, Heather, I, uh. Well, I think you need to perform an act of contrition, um, yes that’s it. I think you should do it right now.”
“Should I pray, Father?”
“No, uh, I mean yes, but not right now,” He stuttered. “I think you need to… um… receive the… er… juice of, um, forgiveness.”
“The juice of forgiveness?” She asked wonderingly.
“Yes, it’s, uh, the only way to save your soul. Yes, that’s right.”
“What is it, Father?” She asked, distracted enough to not notice the fingers clutching at her chest.
“It’s a juice,” He paused. “That will bring you forgiveness. Yes. You will have to suck the juice out, um… from the, uh, rod of… holiness.”
“What’s that?”
“I’ll show you,” He said, then laughed in a strange way. “Stay where you are and I’ll show you, yes.”
Heather stayed kneeling, letting out a sigh of relief as Father Bland withdrew his hand back through the hole. She heard a sound like a zipper along with the priest’s heavy breathing. She was watching the hole in the dim light when a strange object appeared in it, moving forward. It looked like a sausage, as though it was made of meat, with a shiny dome-like end. She could see a hole in the end of it. It was the weirdest thing she had ever seen.
“Oh my goodness!” She exclaimed. “What is it?”
“It’s the rod of, um, holiness, yes. Now put it in your mouth, Heather.”
Her face screwed up in disgust. “Oh, Father, do I have to? It looks weird.”
“Yes, you have to,” He snapped. “You have to suck it, Heather. Now put it in your mouth, or you’ll go to hell.”
“Oh no!” She squeaked, her cute face pouting in horror. She moved her face closer to the thing, slowly opening her mouth. She could smell a slight musty odour coming from it.
“I promise I’ll read the Bible! I’ll be good, Father.” She pleaded.
“It’s too late. Now suck this di-, I mean, rod. Suck the rod, Heather.”
Heather shuffled closer on her knees. The rod was right in front of her face, moving in little twitches. It looked really gross up close, all covered in little ridges. If it hadn’t been for her guilt, she would have run away. But she had to give penance for her blasphemy, had to endure this for Jesus.
Her lips touched the end of the rod. It felt rubbery and warm, surprising her. She held it between her lips and gave a little suck, like on an ice block. At the same time, she heard Father Bland gasp loudly.
“Yes, very good, unh,” She heard the priest say. “Now put it further in your mouth, child. Don’t put your teeth on it. Oooh yes, yes.”
The cute blonde teenager braced herself against the wall and wiggled her lips down the shaft of the rod, letting the smooth end go past her teeth and onto her tongue. She was unable to stop her curious tongue from licking at it, especially the ridge of the domed end, where it felt oddly springy. She wondered what it was made from. It tasted oddly salty, kind of like sweat.
She could hear Father Bland, sounding like he was praying fervently. At least he kept saying ‘Jesus’ and ‘God’ a lot. She sucked on the thing and licked at it, hoping she was doing the right thing. She felt very strange though, kneeling in a confessional with no top on, sucking on a weird object. She certainly hadn’t expected this when she got up this morning!
“Now, ooo, Heather,” She heard the priest say. “Stay there, you’re doing great. But I have to help you get the cu-, I mean, juice out. Now I’m going to hold your head, you just stay still.”
Heather had her eyes open, so she saw the two hands reach through the two higher holes in the wall. They gently took hold of her head, moving around until the fingers met her pigtails. She felt the priest take careful hold of her pigtails as he moaned, she guessed in some sort of holy rapture.
She moaned herself, in surprise, when the rod suddenly moved forward into her mouth, pushing almost to the back of her tongue. The priest’s hands held her head in place as the rod was withdrawn slowly, almost to its tip, before being shoved back inside. She moaned in feeble protest as the process continued, trying to keep her mouth open around the penetrating lump. The grip on her pigtails was almost painful as the rod’s thrusts pushed her head back over and again.
“Oh God, oh God, oooh yes,” Father Bland was saying. “Ooooh yes suck it, suck it harder, God ye-e-es!”
The pretty eighteen-year-old face tried to obey, slurping at the now-very-wet pole, feeling her own spit running down her chin and neck. The priest seemed to be speaking in tongues, moaning and crying out, the whole confessional shaking. Heather’s world seemed to focus entirely on the thing penetrating her face, hoping that soon she would pass the test and be forgiven.
“Oh God,” She heard him cry. “Oh God, here it comes, here it comes!”
She dimly wondered what he meant when the rod convulsed between her lips and her mouth was flooded with a horrible thick liquid, like sticky cream, tasting salty and gross. She would have retched if she wasn’t still held in place, forced to keep letting the spurting rod into her mouth, more and more of the yucky stuff squirting out of it. She couldn’t help it, she had to swallow. It was hard to get down, almost choking her, then she had to swallow again to get rid of another disgusting mouthful.
Then she found herself released, the rod pulled from her mouth. She sagged back against the bench, coughing, eyes watering. She swallowed repeatedly and couldn’t get rid of the taste, which made her cough even more. Her whole face felt wet, when she looked down she could see that her spit had run all down her chest, making her breasts shiny.