Confession of Adultery

From the closet she pulled out a silk suit that she felt was one of her best outfits. It was a designer label that she'd found at a thrift store and altered to fit. With an all-day meeting of the United Fund task force to attend, she wanted to look professional but smart. Before she slipped out of the house she left a note for Mac reminding him of her schedule and warning him that she might run late this evening.

It was Carter Harrison's practice to hold his task force meetings offsite, and this time he'd booked a conference room at one of the nicest hotels in town. Colleen would never have dared do such a thing - she felt it was too extravagant - yet she understood the value of getting people to a neutral site, and she appreciated the higher quality of food and service the hotel provided.

The session was a long one and the discussion occasionally became contentious. Through it all, Colleen was impressed by the way Harrison maintained control of the group and kept it on track. At the end of the day, he smoothly summed up their conclusions and then clearly laid out next steps and assigned tasks for follow-up. "He must have been a heck of a businessman," she thought admiringly. "We're lucky to have him."

As the members of the task force began to leave, Harrison walked them out to the hotel lobby and made a point of speaking with each person, thanking him or her for their participation. When he came to Colleen, however, he leaned over and said quietly, "I want you to stay a little longer. There's something I need to discuss with you."

Colleen was caught off guard by his request, but when she tried to ask him what he wanted, he stopped her. "This is not a good place for a discussion. The hotel provided me with a room to use for break-out sessions. Here's a key; it's room 514. Go on up and wait for me there. I'll be along in a few minutes." Then he walked away to speak to another member of their group, leaving Colleen standing there in surprise.

After a moment she dutifully went to the elevator bank and rode up to the fifth floor. When she opened the door to the room, she found papers and a laptop computer arrayed on the small table. Not wanting to be nosy, she ignored them and sat on the loveseat to wait. As the time passed she kept wondering why the man wanted to see her. She had to admit that his strong personality made her somewhat uneasy.

After what seemed like a long time, she heard a cardkey in the door, and she instinctively stood up as Harrison entered the room. Seeing her standing there he nodded approvingly. Without saying a word, the United Fund executive took off his suit jacket and loosened his tie; then he sat down on one corner of the bed facing her.

Colleen started to seat herself on the loveseat, but Carter interrupted her. "No, remain standing," he said curtly. She was startled, but complied.

"You're a very impressive woman, Colleen," he said after a moment. "As I listened to you today, it was clear that you were the most intelligent person in the group. More importantly, you're a natural leader. Time and again I saw the others looking to you for direction."

Colleen blushed at the unexpected praise. To have someone so accomplished compliment her was extremely gratifying. But when she tried to demur modestly, he stopped her. "No, let me finish."

He got up and walked around her, and she felt as though she were being inspected. Then he returned to his seat on the bed.

"I can tell you've always been a leader. You're one of those people who are willing to take responsibility for making things happen. At your agency, I imagine your staff leans heavily on you for direction. In fact, I expect that they constantly turn to you to make almost every decision, even on the smallest matters."

"If you only knew how true that is," Colleen thought to herself. "It's a wonder anything gets done when I'm not around."

Carter stared directly into her eyes, and she felt as though he could read her thoughts.

"But I know your little secret," Harrison went on. "I know that all that responsibility can be a terrible burden. It's a constant struggle when everyone else is dependent on you. I know that there have been times when you wished you could stop being responsible, when you longed for someone else to make decisions for you."

She stared at him in shock. His words were like a key turning in the lock of her mind as she recognized the truth about herself. "How could he know that? I get so tired of being leaned on. How many times have I secretly wished I didn't have to be responsible?"

He read her silent response and the corner of his mouth curled upward momentarily before he continued. "In your heart of hearts, the thing you want is for someone else to take the burden off of you, to turn responsibility over to another. You don't want to be in charge all the time; you want someone else to make decisions. You want to be told what to do, to submit to someone else's will for a change."

As Colleen listened to him, she felt as though she was in a trance. He was telling her things she'd sensed before but never acknowledged. Now that he'd voiced them, she knew he was right. His words seemed to reverberate in her and she felt as though her body was quivering. A need was growing, filling her thoughts and overwhelming her reservations. The desire to submit became a living thing inside her, struggling to come out.

Suddenly he stood up. "Take off your jacket," he commanded.

She was startled and hesitated. "Do it now," he said firmly.

"He took his jacket off," she rationalized, "so it's alright for me to do the same thing." She slipped the suit jacket off her shoulders and draped it over the loveseat. Then she turned back to face him, waiting nervously for what might come next.

She didn't have to wait long. He folded his arms across his chest and looked at her sternly. "Now remove your blouse," he ordered.

Her breath caught in her throat and her eyes darted left and right as though looking for an escape. A little voice somewhere in her mind was protesting, but the roaring in her ears drowned it out. When she looked at him again and saw his uncompromising stare, she stopped thinking. Lowering her eyes in submission, she brought her fingers up and began to work the buttons. When she had finished and had slipped off the blouse, a shudder ran through her. Submissively, she kept her eyes fixed on the floor.

"Now your skirt," he continued, and this time she responded as if on autopilot. "The bra too," he added, and she quickly reached behind her back to unclasp it. When the cups fell away from her breasts, she instinctively lifted her hands to cover herself.

"No! Hands at your sides!" he barked, and she dropped them immediately. A wave of heat passed through her, and she wondered idly if she was blushing all over. It felt so humiliating to stand there wearing nothing but her panties and pantyhose, yet the shame sent a thrill through her. She heard someone breathing heavily and was surprised to realize it was herself.

Abruptly he stepped up to her, raised his hands and cruelly pinched both her nipples. She gave a little shriek, but her reaction was more from surprise than pain. After the initial shock, the pain in her nipples seemed to shoot straight to her groin like an electric shock. She shivered again and involuntarily thrust her breasts toward him.

He picked up on her response immediately. "This is what you want, you little slut. You want to be dominated and controlled. You want me to take you and do whatever I want to you," he sneered.

There were tears in her eyes as his fingers continued to torment her nipples, but at the same time she found herself panting with desire. Abruptly he grabbed her by the shoulders and maneuvered her around to the loveseat. Then he pushed her down roughly so that she was forced to bend over the arm. He bent down behind her, grabbed two handfuls of her pantyhose and ripped a large hole in them. Then he slid his hand into her panties and yanked them to one side.

"You little whore," he laughed. "Your panties are completely soaked. You're loving this, aren't you? Now, reach back and pull your ass cheeks apart."

Without hesitation she did as he ordered. As she lay there with her face pressed against the seat cushions, a picture of how she must look filled her mind. The thought sent another wave of humiliation flooding over her, but the image only seemed to drive her arousal higher. She had no say in the matter, no decisions to make, nothing to do but submit to the will of the man behind her. This was what she wanted - no, this was what she needed.

Distantly she heard the sound of a zipper, and then she felt his cock poking at her exposed pussy. When it hit her clitoris she gave a little squeal. Then he found her opening and forced himself into her as she gasped.

"He's using me," she thought distractedly. "I'm helpless - he can do anything he wants to me."

This was not the way she and Mac made love. There was no gentle build-up, no tender caresses or loving words. Carter simply grabbed her hips and began to pound into her, thrusting his cock as fast and as deep as he could. This wasn't lovemaking, it was pure animal rutting. To her astonishment she realized that she loved the ferocity and that she was responding like never before.

As if his assault wasn't enough, Carter began to slap her buttocks with his hand, causing her to yelp with each stinging blow. Yet just as when he'd pinched her nipples, the pain seemed to amplify the sexual sensations, pushing her to a whole new level of arousal. She heard herself crying out with every thrust of his hungry cock, and to her surprise she realized that she was already on the brink of an orgasm. Her head arched up off the couch and she cried out repeatedly in ecstasy. Finally her straining muscles went slack and she collapsed on the arm of the loveseat.

But Carter wasn't through with her; if anything his thrusts accelerated, and soon Colleen was crying out again. She'd never had more than one orgasm during intercourse, but now she knew without doubt that she was rapidly climbing that sexual peak a second time.

At that moment Carter ran his hands over her ass and suddenly plunged his middle finger into her asshole, causing Colleen to scream. His intrusion wasn't as painful as it was surprising: no one had ever played with her there before. She felt him rotate his finger and then begin thrusting it into her in time with his cock. The sensation was strange but powerful; never had she been so violated, never had she felt so full.

A moment later she felt him withdraw his finger only to return with two. Her sphincter muscle protested this new intrusion, but soon it yielded to the invasion. Vaguely Colleen wondered where he had gotten the lubricant she felt on his fingers, but then the sensations she was experiencing obliterated all such thoughts, leaving only the intermingled sensation of pleasure and pain.

Suddenly Harrison jerked his fingers out of her bottom and pulled his cock out of her pussy, causing her to moan as the sensations halted. She could feel him adjusting himself behind her, and it suddenly came to her: "He's going to fuck me in the ass!" A part of her rebelled at the thought and she started to lift off the loveseat, but his hand quickly forced her back down, keeping her vulnerable and exposed. Then his cock was right there, pressing itself upon her until something seemed to give way and he popped inside. She screamed, but he paid no attention and continued to push deeper and deeper into her anal cavity.

When he bottomed out, he held motionless for a minute, allowing her body to adjust. Slowly she felt the initial pain wear off, leaving only a sense of pressure and fullness unlike anything she'd ever experienced. Just as she was beginning to relax, he pulled back an inch or two, causing her to gasp out loud. Then he thrust in again, pressing her face into the cushion. "Oh, God," she thought wildly, "this is so filthy, so wrong." But there was nothing she could do to stop his assault, and once again she found herself submitting to his will.

Soon his thrusts grew more vigorous and his strokes lengthened. To her astonishment she felt her buttocks tensing and she realized she was lifting up on her toes in anticipation, reaching up to invite the full force of his cock. Sweat poured off of her and she heard herself panting and gasping once more.

Then Harrison reached around her thighs and began probing her pussy through her panties. When his fingers found her clitoris he began to pinch it in time with the thrusting of his cock. As he stimulated both her pussy and her ass, Colleen lost all control. She was screaming now, not caring who might hear her or what they might think. Her last coherent thought was, "This can't be happening!" Then she exploded into an even bigger orgasm than her first one. Repeatedly she cried out at the top of her lungs as she spasmed over and over again. Finally she heard Harrison grunting behind her. He slammed into her harder and harder until finally he ejaculated deep within her bowels.

When the after-spasms had stopped, he lay draped across her back for several minutes. Then he straightened up, pulled up his boxers and suit pants, and walked to the bathroom. Colleen could only continue to lie across the arm of the loveseat, unable to move.

When she heard Harrison return, she slowly turned her head to look at him. His tie had been re-knotted and his suit was immaculate; his appearance gave no sign that anything untoward had happened. He looked at her without expression. "The room is paid for. Leave whenever you like." With that he gathered up his laptop and papers and strode out of the room, pulling the door closed behind him.

Gingerly she stood up and tottered to the bathroom. In the mirror she saw a woman she didn't recognize. Her make-up was smudged, her hair was a mess, she had sweat streaks running down her face and her panties were sticking out through her ruined pantyhose.

As she set about repairing the damage as best she could, she couldn't stop peering into her eyes. "Who am I? What have I done?" she kept asking herself.

Finally satisfied that she had done all she could to make her appearance normal, she prepared to depart. After retrieving her purse, she walked to the door, opened it cautiously and peeked out to see if anyone was in the hallway. When she saw it was clear, she hurriedly pulled the door to behind her and scurried to the elevators. As she was waiting, a maid emerged from a room, pushing her cleaning cart. As she passed Colleen, she gave her a strange look. "Oh, God," Colleen thought, "I wonder if she heard us?" Thankfully, the elevator door opened at that moment, and Colleen hurried inside.

Colleen drove home in a daze, her mind filled with images of what had just happened back at the hotel. "How could I have done that?" she kept asking herself. "Why didn't I stop him?" The humiliation of standing naked in front of a fully-clothed Carter Harrison kept haunting her. The picture of her compliant body lewdly draped over the arm of the loveseat tortured her. But what bothered her most was the way she had thrilled to the entire experience. She couldn't believe the way she had acted, but she couldn't deny the levels of ecstasy she'd reached.

But as she drove into their neighborhood, her attention shifted to Mac and she was filled with guilt. "I just committed adultery," she thought in horror. "Oh, God, I can't believe I cheated on Mac. I love him so much - how could I do that to him?"

Knowing that she would have to face him in a few minutes filled her with dread. "He'll know right away what I've done," she imagined, and she began to cry in self-pity. But as she neared the house, she angrily wiped the tears from her cheeks. "It's a little too late for those now, you tramp!" she told herself. Yet when she went in and found that Mac had already prepared dinner for the two of them, she began to panic. The idea of sitting across the table from him after what she had just done was more than she could bear. "Honey, I don't feel very well," she told him. "My throat is sore and I think I might be coming down with something. I'm going to skip dinner, get in bed and see if a good night's sleep will help me fight this off."

Mac was concerned about her, but she assured him she would be alright and urged him not to let his own dinner get cold. When he finally went back to the table, she slipped off to the bedroom, pulled the door closed, got undressed and climbed into bed. When Mac came to check on her later, she pretended to be asleep, but her guilt kept her awake for a long time.

The next morning, Mac awoke before Colleen, and he decided to let her sleep late. "It won't hurt for her to be a little late. Heck, if she's coming down with something, she needs to stay home all day. They can live without her for once."

But he was surprised to get a call at the rectory from Colleen before noon. She told him that a night's sleep had done her a world of good and she felt up to going into work. Mac smiled to himself. "She's always so responsible- wouldn't think about missing a day of work."

* * * * * * * * * *

Two days later, Mac was working on his sermon in his office when Mrs. Moore, a widow in the congregation who volunteered as church secretary, buzzed him. "There's a Mr. Harrison here who'd like to see you. He says he knows you."

"Oh, yes, Carter Harrison. Please send him back."

When Mrs. Moore showed Harrison in, Mac rose to shake the man's hand. "This is a surprise, Carter. What can I do for you? Are things going well at the United Fund?"

"Everything's fine there, but I'm not here on United Fund business, Father Mac. This is more of a personal matter."

"I see. Let me just push the door to so we won't be disturbed. Now, what did you want to discuss?"

"Father Mac, what is the Episcopal Church's position on confession?" Harrison asked.

Mac was startled but he tried not to show it. "Well, the confession of sins is an integral part of our worship. Since we are all sinners, the entire congregation makes a general confession as part of the Eucharist, morning prayer and other services."

"But what about the private confession of sins by an individual? Does the Episcopal Church do that?" Harrison pressed.

"We do sometimes," Father Mac conceded, "but it's not very common. Unlike our Roman Catholic brethren, we don't have a confessional or anything like that. But I have heard a few confessions when a parishioner felt it would be of help to them."

"I see," Harrison nodded. "I've also heard that confessions are strictly confidential, that a priest can never discuss what he hears in a confession with anyone else. Is that really true?"

"What you're talking about is called the 'Seal of the Confession'. Put simply, that means that any sin confessed to a priest must be held in inviolable confidence. The priest must maintain that confidence under all circumstances, even after the death of the person who made the confession."

Mac paused and looked at Harrison carefully. "Carter, are you here to make a confession?"

"Yes, Father Mac, I think I'd like to do that. So what do we do next? You said there was no confession box here - do we go into the sanctuary?"

Mac smiled, "We believe where a confession is made is irrelevant. St. Ann's is pretty low-church Episcopal, and I prefer to keep things fairly informal. The few times I've heard a personal confession I've done it in my office. We're less likely to be disturbed that way."

"That's good," Harrison agreed. "I definitely want to keep this just between you and me."

"Very well," Mac said, "we can get started. When I've heard confession before, the person who sought it had done something that weighed heavily on his or her conscience, and they were looking for absolution to ease that burden. Is that how you feel?"