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Secret Confession

By: Ms. Viscious



I entered the chapel that Monday morning, after my encounter with my boyfriend, Kevin. He had touched me, and worse, I had liked it. It was different than when I had done it to myself, though I felt guilty about both things. I felt the extreme need to talk to someone, and Father Malone never criticized me or condescended me. He had always been open, friendly, and comforting, and that was what I needed. The church was empty, and I saw Father Malone at the altar, kneeling. My footsteps didn't seem to disturb him as he continued his prayer. I was almost to the front pew when he rose and turned to face me. Father Malone was in his thirties, and looked relatively young. He had a caring, innocent face, and deep brown eyes. He smiled a caring smile, and I suddenly felt something horrid. I felt the same feeling I had when Kevin had touched me, only stronger. He looked at me, concerned. Why aren't you in school today? he asked. I stuttered and spat out, The ice on the roads is still!

bad. He nodded and walked closer to me. Why did you risk your health to come here? He reached a hand out and grasped my shoulder. I felt a tingle that shot through my body at his touch. Ineeded to talk to someone c-can I... can I get confession? He gave my shoulder a light squeeze, and said, Sure, would you like it here or in the rectory? Face to face confession can be very powerful. Shocked at this, my wide eyed response came out automatically. The rectory would be fine. He took his hand off me, and turned, beckoning me. Follow me, he said. I eagerly followed him to the rectory, where he sat down on a leather couch and told me to have a seat beside him. So, what did you come all the way here to talk about? he asked, not persistently, but concernedly. Father I hesitated. He looked deep into my eyes. What is it? Don't be afraid to talk to me. I looked at him, not just his face, but his body up and down. His tall lanky frame, his dark hair, that part of his t!

hat bulged so much. I felt his eyes on me, and the impurest of thoughts began roaming in my brain. I-Im not its just I hung my head, feeling my face flush. I pushed myself on. I've been having impure thoughts, I blurted out. He laughed gently. That's nothing to be ashamed of. We all have weak moments. You did'nt act on them, did you? I looked up at him guiltily, then hung my head once more. Yes, I whispered. He again placed a hand upon my shoulder and said, You feel you have gone astray. I'm glad you came to talk with me about it. Don't be embarrassed. Just tell me about it. I savored the feeling of his touch, and placed my hand on top of his. He smiled a bit awkwardly. I tried to remain composed, I tried not to think impurely, but something took over me. Evil desire had taken over my body as I felt a dampness between my thighs, and a hardening of my nipples. To my own shock, I felt my hand guiding his to my breast, and I felt myself leaning towards him. His hand!

grew shaky as I lightly kissed him on the lips. His face flushed as I directed his hand more persistently until it began to move on its own, gently rubbing my nipples. I leaned in closer, and he backed away suddenly, and stood up. What's wrong, Father? I asked. He looked at me uneasily, then turned away. I rose and took his hand. I felt needy, wanton. Like Jezebel, the harlot. But suddenly I didn't care. I stood on my tiptoes and kissed his neck, unbuttoning his collar as I went. He turned to me with obvious lust in his eyes. We can't we cant do this he said. I pressed myself against him, my hard nipples digging into his chest, my pelvis grinding into his obvious excitement. He moaned softly and ran his fingers through my hair. You've been so good to me, Father, I said, I just want to repay you. He backed up, right into his desk, where I had him cornered. I smiled deviantly. Hastily, and to his shock, I began to unbutton his trousers, feeling his excitement grow.

I kneeled in front of him, and took down his boxers, drooling at the sight of this grown mans virgin cock. He was breathing heavily now, each of my touches making him jump like he had been hit by lightning. I leaned forward and kissed the tip of his cock, precum oozing out of him. I hungrily lapped at it and took him in my mouth, bobbing up and down as he made startled noises and shook at the knees. With my free hand (the other was fondling his balls) I took down my panties underneath my jumper. I stood up abruptly and tossed them at him, giggling. He caught them and sniffed at them, all the time moving towards me. I lied on the couch, and took off my blouse. He froze as I opened my legs beckoningly to him. The Father then took a step towards me, and awkwardly got on the couch between my open thighs. I pulled him up and kissed him hard, wrapping my long legs around him tightly. His cock was millimeters from my cunt, and I felt it rubbing my wetness. The Father felt it too, because he groaned and thrust his hips at me.

I pushed him back for a moment, long enough to use my hand and guide his hard shaft to my opening. He pushed at it, but my tightness refused to let him enter me. I was, after all, still a virgin. I wrapped my legs around him tighter, pulling him into me slowly. His cock head was now in, and I made urgent noises while trying to get the length of him into me. Are you alright? he asked. Yes, I answered, It hurts a little, but but god it feels good At the sound of my pleasure, he thrust forward, pushing himself all the way into me. I cried out, and he stopped, looking at me with those innocent eyes. Keep going, Father, I urged him, It feels so good He began to move slowly, in and out, hesitantly pumping my cunt, which was now sopping wet. As his cock explored the depths of my pussy, it began to get slicker, wetter, and he began to pump faster. Soon he was driving into me, ramming me, and we were both moaning loudly with newfound pleasure. His face was intensely contorted in bliss as he fucked me, harder, faster, wetter.

I felt a wave coming over me like Id never had before. My body seemed to explode from the inside out, blood rushing to my pelvis, muscles losing control, I saw the same happen with the Father. He began to convulse, changing his fucking to quick, deep, driving thrusts. The feeling took over my body as I screamed out as the Father took his final thrusts, then collapsing on top of me. His softened cock came out of my pussy with a pop, and I savored the feeling of afterglow. My pussy was raw, sensitive, burning, throbbing, hot, and dripping with both of our juices. After a few seconds Father Malone lifted his head and looked at me. I., I put my hand over his mouth to silence him. Shhh, I purred, and held him. I had always wanted this, and now I was getting it from someone I truly felt for. Completely forbidden as it was, we didnt care. And that was not the last time we had gotten lost in ecstasy with each other. I made many more trips to the rectory for Father Malone's Private Confessions.

Secret Confessions of a Writer



To all you anonymous people out there on the Internet, I wish to make a confession. 

I am addicted to my fantasies; I am a dirty little slut, a hussy and a whore and I can't help myself.

I don't know whether it is through pure self-indulgence or self-loathing that I write this, or perhaps just meandering through the complexities of my troubled mind, but I wish to find the truth by telling all. 

I am not writing about a fictional character, I am writing about me, the writer, "Sweet_Kitten". No, I will not tell you my real name, I do not wish to meet up and I have no desire to find myself objected to those fantasies that I wish to share with you. But yes, as a writer I would love to hear your feedback.

The normal girl that most people see on a day-to-day basis is your average 25 year old girl. I say girl because I still play games, dance around for no reason at all, sing songs (despite not being a great singer), giggle and misbehave as I did when I was still a schoolgirl. The label "woman" is all too serious, refined and sophisticated for me who still wants to go out have fun and get up to mischief.

I have a boyfriend who I love very much and have been with for near on 7 years, an average job paying a small but average wage and I still live with my parents (much to my own disgust). I smile a lot and make friends with everyone and I try to see the best in everybody else. (Sad but true) 

Just a normal girl, yes? Sure, but when I get home I find myself trawling the Internet into the small hours with a soaking pussy looking at hentai, gang bangs and forced sex stories. I find myself getting horny as hell watching those little hentai princesses with beautiful hair and big wide eyes being abused and fucked hard by big mean and angry men and beasts (oh and the more helpless they are the better - please no pain, pissing or enemas - eeew!) and I hate my perverse little self for the dirty little whore that I have become.

Why can't I just like normal sex like everybody else? "Boy meets Girl – Girl Meets Boy" Boy screws the living daylights out of girl and girl loves it screaming "yeah baby put your big dick in my pussy, oh yeah! You like fucking my arse? Hmm?"... No no no perhaps that's just too boring for me or perhaps I have a better opinion of women. 

I want to be the sweet innocent, cute and pretty lil' hentai all wide-eyed and afraid. Or the strong willed proud and intelligent, beautiful woman who won't go down without a fight. Who when that cock pushes deep into her soaking cunt is horrified to give in to her own body's betrayal. But when it is all over she will still get up and fight again tomorrow.

He, her captor, is a strong and proud man and admires and desires her strong spirit, he would rather have a tiger at his heel than a weak and frightened kitten and enjoys breaking her. She hates him for what he has done, but can't help but love him for the smouldering way that he looks at her, the way he treats her more like a goddess than any other man has ever done before and the way that when it is all over and he takes her into his arms he soothes and caresses her soul.

I find her portrayed a lot in my stories and I find her tale strangely romantic and alluring that although she is a strong and defiant woman she finds herself at his mercy and becomes completely devoted to this man, a total stranger who has taken her freedom from her. (By the way, look out for a film called "The story of 'O'"I was captivated by it when I was in my early teens and came across it late one night on TV)

So when I walk down a street and I hear footsteps behind me, my heart starts to race, my nerves begin to tingle and scenes present themselves into my mind. Perhaps if I walk down this alley way ... or I walk alone one night? Surely I wouldn't want that... right? (Now please gents, don't get any ideas, I may fantasize about it but I love my boyfriend very much and I know it would be nothing like the romantic little stories I have in my head) But still I can't help imagining ... 

'I turn right to cut through the park. Fear making my breath hurt in my chest. I can still hear him behind me almost imagine his breath on my neck. Don't look back, don't let him know, that you know he is following you. Just another couple of hundred yards and you'll be home safe. Fear pushes me on. I am sure that if I just turn around he will be right there, a step behind me, I break into a run and he gives chase as I stumble on vines and weeds in between the trees of the parks very own little woodland. The adrenaline pulsing through my veins, my every sense alert for his whereabouts... 'Have I lost him?' my mind asks. Not thinking, I stop for a second to catch my breath and turn to...'

'I climb onto a packed train; there is no room to breathe, claustrophobia closing in around me. I can't see anything but male bodies still suited from the busy day in the city. The train jolts, bodies jostle against me and I find myself rammed in against the wall of the train. I can't see anything and the occasional hand brushes across my thigh, almost accidentally at first but when I don't... can't react they become bolder, braver, groping at my breasts and cupping my arse. My moans and complaints just notify more men around me and instead of coming to my aid they join in too, probing fingers into my pussy, feeling my tits and groping my arse. Someone removes my knickers and is licking my now dripping cunt. There is a mouth attached to my breast, biting and teasing my hard nipples. I am pushed to my knees where I am forced to suck their cocks, a hand gripping my hair to make sure that I suck hard enough, deep enough. Someone's prick is pressed up against my pussy, teasing at the entrance, testing the owners resolve to not just thrust it straight in and fuck me senseless. Another probes my arsehole and I am helpless to resist as they take their turns to fuck me and cum in my pussy and over my face. Eventually they leave me alone, sticky, exhausted, dazed and confused.'

And now as I am writing this my pussy drips and throbs for a fucking. My nipples are hard and sensitive and I am absently sucking one finger ...... hmmm my hand is reaching down to find my clit... I think this will be a good one.