Ritual of Confession Ch. 01-02

I still didn't understand this part of the Ritual any more than when I watched Lucy go through it. But it was apparent that this part of the ceremony was routine. Every woman who entered the confessional chamber willingly subjected themselves to this treatment. I also knew that, for whatever reason, it was a spectacular scene to witness.

The vigorous stroking between my mother's legs became faster. Rich foam was starting to accumulate around her crotch, just as it did with Lucy. This time, though, I noticed the short wet 'slip and slop' sounds from the scrubbing resonating throughout the room. I was loving this. I knew I would regret it immensely every time I thought about it. But there was no denying that what was happening before me was exciting me immensely both in my mind and between my legs.

My mother's body started to tremble as her breathing slowly became heavy with panting. She raised her head slightly, just as Lucy did when she stood where my mother was. Then, my mother did something I never imagined she would do.

Unlike Lucy, my mother quickly looked down at me, my father and sister. She gave us all what appeared to be a slight grin before raising her chin all the way up to the stained-glass ceiling again. At this moment, I happened to notice that her face did not blush like Lucy's did when she stood in the basin.

Suddenly, a deep, long moan escaped her lips. It echoed off the walls more loudly than any sound I had heard the entire time I was there. My eyes widened. A whisper of a gasp escaped my own lips as my mother's long moan was followed by shorter, faster ones. I stood in awe.

She seemed completely uninhibited. It was as if she was inviting her family to enjoy the sight of her combined vulnerability and ecstasy. She continued to exclaim her joy as Sister Ruth continued washing her.

As difficult as it was to admit, I could almost sense her anticipation for this desperate release. I didn't feel this way when I was watching Lucy's body writhing in pleasure. I was simply enjoying the satisfaction of being able to see her nudity and embarrassment, even if I pitied her a little at the same time. But watching my mother let go, I almost felt sympathetic.

With the throbbing in my pants becoming more and more unbearable, it was as if part of me was craving the same kind of release. I decided I had to quickly put the thought out of my mind. I knew full well that this was not the time or place to deal with it. Nevertheless, the thought would not go unexplored indefinitely.

Although I was sure everyone in the room was focused on my mother, I still couldn't help secretly wishing that nobody was looking at me now.

My hands were clasped in front of my crotch covering a rather obscene protuberance. I can't even imagine what the expression on my face looked like. I couldn't bear to look at my sister and father, though part of me was curious as to how they were reacting to all this. Knowing, though, that this would not be the last time we would be in here, I decided to keep my attention on Mother.

I was fascinated by the rhythm of my mother's consistent groaning. It was almost like music. While Lucy decided to try to suppress her pleasure until she could not hold it in any longer, my mother did nothing to restrain herself.

After what seemed like an eternity, she suddenly let out a series of short, high-pitched screams. I almost jumped in surprise as the noises bounced off the chamber walls. Sister Ruth began to slow the pace of her strokes. Mother's panting began to slow down, and her trembling body began to calm. I'm not sure if it was because her pleasure had reached its peak or simply because she was exhausted.

She exhaled deeply and fully. Her eyes closed for a second and the edges of her open mouth seemed to produce the hint of a smile. She lowered her head down again. She gave me and my family another glance, looking each of us in the eye for a quick second. Her feelings of contentment and satisfaction were quite apparent in her face. If she had looked any longer I would have looked away. I could not allow her to know how much I loved being a part of this ceremony.

Sister Beth rinsed my mother's body off twice using the poured water from the large bronze ladle. Sister Ruth then turned her around and escorted her up the porcelain steps and out of the basin. Her hair and body were dried off quickly. With her beautiful round bum facing us, Sister Beth concluded the ritual.

"My child," she said, "you are now as pure as the day you came into the world. Cover your nakedness...never to give into temptation again. Amen."

Me, my father and my sister simultaneously responded "Amen."

Both nuns followed my mother as she stepped back behind the silk curtain. My father gave me and Lucy a quick look as we all took the opportunity to loosen our stiff postures. I looked back at him, trying my best to keep my face free of expression. I'm sure I was blushing and maybe sweating a little, but he made no indication that he was aware.

I tried to look at my sister, but my father was blocking her completely. He turned towards the back of the confessional door, so I did the same.

As I faced the angel statue on the door again, I suddenly became aware of the aroma in the room. It resembled the smell of lavender, which I knew was from the soap oil. But now I was beginning to notice something else again. Something more earthy and pungent mixed with the fragrance. I barely noticed it when my sister completed the ritual. But now it was more prominent in the air.

After a brief moment, my mother approached us from behind, draped in the same sheer satin gown as my sister. We all turned around. My mother smiled at my sister and reached for her right hand. Lucy took Mother's hand and they proceeded to walk past my father and I towards the cross on the forward confessional wall.

As they both briskly walked past me, I became vividly aware that the scent was coming from under their short gowns. Something about the ritual must have somehow caused each of their bodies to produce this enchanting musk. Otherwise, I surely would have noticed it on them before. I inhaled deeply through my nostrils, giving myself a moment to appreciate the introduction of yet another wonderful mystery of the female body.

My mother and sister both knelt beside each other on the floor before the cross. With their bodies leaning forward, I gazed upon them as they prayed several Hail Mary's. Their damp hair trailed down their backs. Their soft, flimsy gowns beautifully defined the roundness of their hips while barely long enough to cover the dark lips of their vulvas. My penis was now swelled up to its limit as I gazed between their legs. The throbbing was starting to become uncomfortable.

I was now suddenly aware of how embarrassed I would feel if anyone were to notice my bulge once the ceremony was over. For the first time since the ritual began, I closed my eyes. I started to concentrate on the voices of my mother, Lucy, and the nuns, whispering the Hail Mary's along with them. Unfortunately, after several minutes of praying, my erection only softened a little bit. But at least it wasn't as prominent as it was during the ritual.

Moments later, my mother and sister rose together. They each bowed their heads and then faced the nuns. Sister Ruth and Sister Beth presented them with their respective stacks of outer clothing, undergarments, and jewelry. My mother thanked both nuns. She and Lucy stepped behind the silk screen. Sister Beth stood along the right side of the screen as Sister Ruth stood behind her with her hands folded in front.

I could distinguish Lucy's silhouette crossing her arms in front of her and grabbing the bottom of the gown. In one quick motion, she pulled it up and over her head. My mother did the same. The shadows of their naked forms were once again projected against the curtain. Lucy handed her gown to my mother. Mother returned it, along with her own to Sister Beth. She thanked the nun. Sister Beth responded with a nod and a smile.

The two nuns walked past us towards the exit of the chamber. Both Sister Beth and Sister Ruth gave me and my father a smile and bowed their heads as they exited the chamber.

I decided to turn around and not watch the shadows of my mother and sister get dressed. Not only was the shame of enjoying their predicament getting to me, but I figured it was the only way I could force my erection to soften under my pants.

My father suddenly put his hand on my shoulder and quietly asked, "Are you alright, son?"

"Yes, Father, I'm fine." I said quietly. I could not bear to face him as I was quite shocked by what I had just seen, and did not want him to be aware of it. I tried to appear as if my attention was concentrated on the angel statue on the confessional door. He continued to speak.

"I haven't witnessed the Ritual of Confession since before you were born." He sighed. "I feel blessed to be able to support your mother and sister once again. It reminds me of when Grandfather let me join him and your uncle as your grandmother absolved her sins before me for the first time. It exists to symbolize the release of all temptation and evil. It is sacred. Remember that, son. Anyways, we'll be home soon for dinner if you're tired."

"Yes Father." I said, still focusing my eyes on the angel statue. Honestly, I didn't fully understand his words. However, I took the ideas of 'support' and 'sacred' and reflected upon their meanings. I used the ideas to further distract my mind from the continuous images of my mother and sister's naked bodies. It only helped somewhat. Thankfully, it was just enough to make my erection subside so all that was seen was a slight bulge.

By this time, I noticed my mother approach from the corner of my eye. She was now fully dressed in her church attire. She took my father by the arm. Lucy had also finished dressing. She walked behind my mother, almost as if she was trying to hide from me. I respected her shyness, considering the circumstances. I walked in front of my father, and did not look at her again. Our whole family departed the church and returned home.

The evening continued as any other evening after returning from a confessional ceremony. We all ate dinner and talked about our day. Not a word was ever spoken about the ritual itself.

Lucy seemed less shy around me from the moment we returned home. I was pleased by this. I sincerely hoped she would get over her apparent feelings of awkwardness around me, despite the events that had just occurred. In fact, I was surprised by how easy-going she and my mother acted. I suppose they were so used to the ritual after so many years, so having their male family members present didn't make as much of a difference as I would have thought.

Remembering my father's advice prior to the ritual, I decided not to bring it up in order to preserve its sanctity. What happened behind those ominous oak walls was meant to stay there. Besides, the questions I had running through my mind didn't concern the Ritual. Rather, it was how the Ritual augmented my own feelings of confusion.

Of course, as I started to grow into a man, I have had many thoughts about the women in my life undressed before me. These kinds of thoughts always resulted in my penis getting rigid. Finding wet spots on my sleepwear and bed sheets was nothing new either. I knew it was wrong. I knew they were 'impure thoughts,' as my parents would describe them while giving lectures about the family's moral standards. But try as I might, there was just no way to get rid of them.

Hours of prayer and asking for forgiveness did not make them go away. I was too shy to even talk about it with the other boys at school, even though I knew they were probably feeling the same way. I was ashamed of the evidence of my desires that my body was producing.

Thankfully, my mother never mentioned it, even though I knew she must have seen the stains all the time when changing the bed sheets or doing laundry. I would hate to have to explain to her or anyone else why my body reacted the way it did.

I eventually learned to accept it somewhat, as long as I kept it to myself. I asked for forgiveness and suppressed my curiosity. As far as I was concerned, this was enough to make it seem like nothing sinful. But from this night on, these ideas would no longer provide the relief they once did.

Having now been introduced to the female form in its entirety, my curiosity was not fulfilled. In fact, it was now more prominent than ever. School assignments and household chores became more and more difficult to complete. My concentration was never this hindered before.

Countless images of beautiful naked women's bodies flowed in and out of my mind day and night for a week. I went over each and every part of their anatomy in my mind.

I could not forget seeing my mother and sister's shadows as the nuns stripped their bodies bare behind the silk curtain. I even began to think about Lucy's friends partaking in the ritual. Before long, the excitement of thinking about my naked mother and sister wore thin. I was now facing a deeper obsession.

Since the Ritual, I fondled my penis and scrotum after saying my prayers every night. This went on for a week. I figured it wasn't really a sin as long as I only thought of it as scratching an itch or rubbing a sore muscle.

Deep down, I knew it was wrong even to go that far when touching between my legs, especially after attending Sunday mass this week. But somehow, the thought of eternal damnation did not compare to the torture of trying to suppress these overwhelming feelings.

As I played with myself, I allowed my mind to fill with naked women. Their bodies were just breathtaking. The women I imagined had no faces and no names. It was enough to me that they were just bare and willing to be observed. Though in reality I have only seen two in my life, I considered all female bodies to be beautiful, no matter what their proportions.

At first, these images would send me into a pleasant restful sleep. But my desires only continued to grow. Concentrating solely on the visual aspects of women's bodies was not enough to satisfy me anymore. I soon desired to know more.

What would a woman's hot breath feel like on my skin if we became intimate? What would her breasts feel like if I squeezed and kneaded them in my hands? Would her buttocks feel as soft as it looked as I caressed it, massaged it, and spread it apart?

I yearned to discover what lay behind the mysterious lips that guarded a woman's vulva. I wanted to gently part them. I imagined smelling it like a flower, letting its aroma flood my senses. Would it smell like Lucy and my mother after the nun's washed them?

As I went through these thoughts, one thing became absolutely clear. I could not admit it to myself before now. I used to think that as long as these emotions were suppressed they would not interfere with my life. I was wrong. Every night this week, I laid in my bed sorting through this sense of constant overwhelming desire. I decided to finally acknowledge my desperate need for release.

I'll never forget the blissful reactions of my mother's body as Sister Ruth vigorously rubbed her vulva. Although she had never admitted it in words, I just knew she enjoyed it immensely. Lucy must have as well, even if she was reluctant to show it as openly as Mother with her father and brother present.

I wanted to feel the same thing. I needed it just as much as they apparently did. For the first time in my life, I was willing to challenge my faith. It would mean defying the beliefs that were instilled in me by my parents and the church since I was a boy. I would have to disobey the principles that were meant to ensure my eternal peace and prosperity. All in the name of sin!

I did not want to resist any longer. My need was too great. It far outweighed the risk that my soul would burn for eternity. It was time to take action.

On the seventh night after the Ritual, I closed my bedroom door and took off all of my clothes. Before I put my pajamas on and prepared for bed, I sat on the edge of my bed, facing the full-length mirror beside my nightstand. I glanced down at my semi-erect penis, which was already waiting to be fondled.

With my right hand, I grasped my erection at its base with my thumb and forefinger. I worked the ring of my hand up to the head. I then wrapped my other fingers around the shaft and squeezed it as I stroked down and up again. I could feel the pulsation of my erection traveling into my palm as I continued. My erection now swelled to its limit.

The sensations were overwhelming and the pleasure continued to escalate. I wanted it to last forever. I raised my head and closed my eyes. Instinctively, I just knew this was what my body was waiting for.

I did not allow myself to hold back. It was a desperate yearning deep inside of me that needed to be relieved. Though I knew I would probably feel guilty about this sinful act later, I didn't care. The possibility that I would be begging the Lord for forgiveness over this for years was irrelevant. All that mattered at this moment was the relief I was experiencing after so many years of neglect. I continued to squeeze my penis harder and my stroking became faster.

I started to feel internal contractions between my legs in a way I've never quite felt before. Something was building up inside me. I just had to keep going. I sunk deeper and deeper into these newfound sensations.

Overwhelmed by these physical sensations, my mind now transported me from my room and brought me back to the church. Only this time, I was not in the Confessional Chamber with my family. I was standing on the wide marble altar before the pews. I had not a stitch of clothing on, just as I was now in my room. And I was not alone.

Dozens of beautiful women surrounded me. Some were complete fabrications of my imagination. The rest I recognized, even though I could not see their faces clearly or even knew all of their names. They represented the women in my life that sparked 'impure thoughts' within me at one time or another. In the past, they made me feel ashamed of myself. But this was no longer going to be the case.

I remembered them all from different places and times. There was a couple I have seen at the market while shopping with my family. There were those I've noticed amidst the pews during Sunday mass. There were also a few of Lucy's friends. This was paradise.

They were all dressed in the same satin gowns Lucy and my mother wore during the Ritual. Only these gowns seemed to shimmer. They all smiled lovingly at me as they advanced towards me. Leaving about a meter of empty space around me, they stopped.

Sister Beth was there too, represented as a younger woman with a more statuesque figure. She wore the same gown as the others. I guess part of me found her attractive after all, despite her age. She appeared directly in front of me. She opened her mouth to speak.

"Disrobe!" she commanded loudly.

In an instant, the women around me simultaneously grabbed the bottom of their gowns and pulled them up and over their heads. The gowns disappeared, and they all joined me in my nakedness.

They all had distinctive heights, skin types and hair of various lengths and colors. Each of them had a different physique and diverse proportions. Some of their bodies were petite, some were curvaceous. Some had larger breasts, some had smaller breasts. Some had rounder, wider bums while others had smaller, tighter ones. They were portrayed only as far as the limits of my imagination could go. Nevertheless, I craved them all.

In my room, I stopped and let go of my penis for a moment. With my eyes still closed, I brought my hand up to my mouth and spat a generous amount of saliva into my palm. I then resumed gratifying myself. The saliva reduced the friction against my swollen, sensitive shaft. It allowed my hand to glide even smoother against my shaft as I continued to increase the pace of my stroking.