Sinful Fruit Ch. 01

Remember, this is fiction. Story is made up, as are the characters. Any correlation with names or events is purely coincidental.

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Althea's POV

"Forgive me Father, for I have sinned... My last confession was 2 weeks ago.."

"Okay, my child..." Eerie silence filled the confession booth for only a moment, the air stagnant and stale. "In the name of the father, the son, and the holy spirit... What are you confessing?"

The man's voice was crisp with monotone, his voice never wavering or changing pitch as he spoke. Between the mesh confession screen that separated our visages, was a young woman and a Priest. A Priest with whom I was about to confess my darkest and possibly most vile confession.

"I... I indulged in self-pleasure, for the first time in my life..." I bit my lip, my inner turmoil proving almost impossible to speak.

"Was this.. Provoked?"

"Yes, Father..." My legs squirmed with anticipation as I knew I'd have to explain, muttering each little detail like it was cruel torture. Reliving the memory once again, as it played back countless times in my head like a rehearsal before officially confessing. "When I was alone.. I couldn't help but browse the internet for stories. I came across a... erm, an erotica."

There was a long, harsh pause. The silence stabbed into my lungs and took the air from them as I knew he was either judging me silently or deciding on a punishment. Although, when he spoke up, he didn't seem to have a change of attitude.

"Explain it to me."

"Like... Explain the story? Or... read you--"

"Elaborate thoroughly. Which part of the story provoked you?"

Oh god, it was a lot worse than I imagined. I had to actually explain the details of the story, and more specifically, the part that I got off to.

"Um.. This one part, where the woman in the story was instructed to strip before the man, and get on all fours..." I paused briefly, sucking in a sharp breath, "And he spanked her.." I could feel my cheeks burn with embarrassment as I had to read from the story, maybe this was my punishment.

"I see... Did you enjoy it?"

Oh god, yes... I did... I stroked myself till it was raw thinking of myself in the position of the woman in the story. But I could NOT say all of that. "Yes, Father... I did."

"Thank you for your honesty."

That was my confession. And I intricately made sure to go to a different church rather than my local one, because I wasn't ready to be overheard by known voices. For if someone heard me and recognized my voice, it would be the next few months walking through taunting whispers and fingers pointed.

But... Something about that Priest's voice made me squirm in my seat. His voice cut to my core, making my body tingle and head swim in his silky, smooth whispers. My knees buckled every time he spoke softly.. And I craved it. As if I were a hungry predator.

I listened to the mourning doves as I sat on my porch, sipping gently from my coffee. The more I continued to think of his voice, the more my body fantasized being touched by his broad, rough hands. But I knew if I were brave enough to try and seduce him, it would only lead to my social demise, having been casted out from the church and surrounding churches and being branded as a "godless harlot". I didn't want that.

But I longed for his voice, I need that sweet husky tone to whisper sweet nothings against my ear drums... So I prepared for another visit.

I was going to be bolder than before, I'm going to explain each vivid detail, each risqué sentence, each sound and dialogue. I was on a warpath for his honey-dripping voice, my insatiable desire couldn't be quenched.

As the next week flew by, eager to fulfill my dark and twisted hunger, I waited for this very day. My hands pressed against the door made of rotting wood and expired sealant, my body moved with confidence between the pews to get to the confession booth... But as I shuffled into comfortability, my braveness was gone, and I was back to being this timid, sexually repressed woman.

"Bless me Father..." My hands tapped avidly on my thigh, "For I have sinned..."

There was the same eerie silence as before, only this time, it was longer than before. The creak from the other side startled me and caused my body to jolt upright.

"My last confession was 7 days ago.."

As he started his verse, my body shook with anxiousness. My hands gripping the edge of the seat, rocking back and forth ever so slightly. Then it was my turn to tell him the twisted details of my session.

"I have... pleasured myself.. Again.. Only this time, it may have been more than once in a sitting.." My hands itched to start touching myself again, thinking of his voice instructing me and commanding me on what I should do. "It was from another erotica... This man had bent this woman over an altar in a church... her ass perched over a pew as he slammed into her from behind.. His cock--"

There was a loud noise, stopping me short in my audible tracks. The Priest had cleared his throat on purpose, and I knew all too well the reason behind it.

"These details aren't really necessary," I heard some more shuffling on his side, but the panel that separated us was too dark to see through.

"I have to, Father..." Knowing it was utter bullshit, I continued with the sensible components of my "session". "I don't know why, but it was like an addiction after the first orgasm. As I laid spent on my bed, collecting myself after experiencing an intense climax, I felt myself get tingly again.."

I heard a lowly growl through the panel, indicating he was getting frustrated... but the good kind.

"I couldn't stop it, it was like a concurrent flow of events.. My hand was already back to stroking my nether region while my other hand snaked up my shirt to pinch my chest." While being sensual, I made sure to not use risky words.

"And father... I screamed the lord's name as I released.."

There was a soft thud against the wall with the panel that divided the booths, his breaths grew labored, and his professionalism was gone with his restraint... Which was exactly what I hoped for. He may be a man of God, but he was still a man, after all.

I was a sexually repressed woman. I grew up not knowing what a cock looked like until a week after my 18th birthday. I never gave into sexual urges by touching myself, until a week ago. I'm 18 almost 19 now, so take that into account. Sex never crossed my mind until I stumbled upon that one damn erotica... Feeling horniness at full mast for the first time, the overwhelming sensation crashing down like a pile of bricks on my body.

"I'm sorry Father.. I should've held my tongue."

"It's alright, my child..." It definitely was not alright. I crossed the invisible line on purpose, all because his voice made me a little tingly. But his job required him to absolve me of my "sins". I heard a deep breath from the Priest, hearing more subtle rustling noises before he spoke once again. After reciting his forgiveness verse, or whatever you call it, he went silent.. No rustling, no groaning, nothing. Just soft breathing.

I swallowed a glob of saliva before extending my arm to the side panel, fingers brushing against the indented handle. They rested there for a full 10 seconds, before slowly, and very quietly, pulling the panel back only enough to peek my frosty blue eye through the gap. My eyes widened at the scene before me. The Priest was leaning forward, hands clasped together as he recited a prayer barely above a whisper. Maybe it was for his own resistance.

I pushed the panel back into place and crept out the booth, straightening my posture before I sat at the end of the nearest pew. As his prayer came to an end, he cleared his throat once more and spoke up again. "Come back in 3 days, I'll help you with these urges."

I felt a small prick of hope, the hope that he could actually rid of these sinful desires and thoughts. "Really, Father?"

"Of course," There was a long, sinister pause, "But it will be just you and me, and I expect you to be willing to rid of your demons once and for all."

"I will be," As I exited the confession booth, I turned to priest's side and said, "Thank you again, Father." And took my leave.

Tomorrow.. Tomorrow I was going to be meeting the priest alone and I couldn't decide if I should be excited or worried. If I could be cured of these devious thoughts, I'm all for a little exorcise. But let's clear one thing up; I am not overly religious. I don't follow the church as closely as most people think. I was only brought up this way by my bible-thumping parents, literally thumping their bibles on my heads if I got a pray wrong or they caught me doing something they saw as "sinful behavior".

I regularly attend the local church for my own satisfaction, having a purpose while keeping my relationship with God close. All the bible verses and daily prayers my parents made me recite during my childhood were nearly gone, thanks to the trauma they instilled in me. Trauma being the corporal punishment they enforced when I messed up a prayer or forget to do a chore, etc.

My hands rummaged around in my drawers, trying to find at least a decent outfit. I was way too nervous that I wasn't sure what would look good. I settled on a crimson top that wrinkled in the middle as the design, the collar hung mid-chest and around my deltoids, accentuating my breasts. I paired the shirt with a black, flowy skirt that was a little higher than most skirts, and dare I say, a string thong that only covered my slit. The thong was a practical gift from my "trampy" best friend.

I set the outfit aside for tomorrow. I was probably over-preparing for this, but I was looking forward to being alone with the priest, I couldn't wait to see what kind of face was behind that deep, smooth voice.

The Priest's (Silas) POV

Hearing the young girl's confession stunned me, I won't lie. She sounded as if she was unsure in her first confession with me, but her second sounded confident and sneaky, like it was intentional. Nothing gets past me, but if I had to guess, this girl is curious about her sexuality. And I don't blame her, most people who follow God are convinced into believing not touching yourself or that sex is forbidden until marriage.

Some one-on-one with this girl and proper guidance may steer her in the right path while still being a devote Christian, and I was willing to teach her. Judging by her demeanor, she was innocent and naive, or she was acting that way. She was naive because she, like many others, thinks masturbation is a sin, a silly prenotion.

The day eventually came, I was in charge of doing basic cleaning of the church after the service. It was the usual church attenders, though I couldn't imagine the voice I heard fitting any of the regular's faces.

I heard the doors open, a small woman walking the aisle between the pews toward me. I was already polishing the altar, the last chore, when my eyes peeled from my task to the noise emitted the church.

I studied her carefully, delicate features and tiny body, almost like a petite elven. Her chest was almost translucent with how pale she was, her dark clothes contrasted against her skin. She had long, blonde hair that stopped below her rear, brushed neatly and not a stray strand in view. She was a true goddess, through and through. She walked with grace as if she was the main character of this world.

"May I help you?" My eyes wandered back to the altar. Her tiny hands clasped in front of her hips.

"I'm.. Um... My name is Althea," She seemed uncertain and shy... Almost like-

"Ah, I remember you now." My hands stopped working the rag against the pressed wood, my finger hooking my collar to adjust around my neck. "Yes, Althea. The woman who newly confessed twice, right?"

I watched her big grey eyes dart up and down my body, as if she was taking me in all at once. I wouldn't lie, I'm not bad looking, without sounding too egotistical. My body was muscular and fit, I regulated the gym at least 4 times a week. My jaw was chiseled, and I often kept a clean shave. I had some gray hair above my ears that accentuated my jet-black hair, but I didn't care to cover up my signs of aging.

"Y-yes! Um.. Sir-"

"Father Silas." I cut her mid-sentence, so she knew how to address me.

"Right... Father... Silas..." Her voice trailed off as if she was nervous. Rightfully so, given she confessed some very personal.... secrets to me. And now she was standing face-to-face with whom she shared her secrecy with.

"So, Althea. I'll waste no time with formalities, but you will address me properly so you're still being respectful while receiving punishment. Are we understood?"

"Yes, Father." The way she chewed the inside of her lip made me curious how she tasted. I was no depraved, sex animal by any means. But with a woman this gorgeous, most men couldn't help but wonder.

"Good," I cleared my throat and approached her slowly, eyes fixated on her lips. "You must understand something, my child."

"Yes?"

"Pleasuring yourself isn't blasphemy." I watched her big eyes sparkle with aspiration. "However, calling out the Lord's name is." A lie.

I nearly smirked as her expression shifted with contempt. "I can help you," I readjusted my collar, something I did when I was anxious. "Just trust in me and obey."

"I-I do, Father Silas... I trust you."

"Good." I reserved this time to gather my thoughts and composure, my fingers pressed against each other as I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply. "Let's get started."

"Althea, do not question anything I do or instruct of you. If you do, it's shown as a sign of disrespect, and I'll be forced to strengthen the punishments. Are we clear?"

"Crystal..." Her voice faltered, letting me know her vulnerability was reaching its peak.

"Good. Now..." I leaned back against the altar, my eyes never left hers, "Turn around and lean your face down, toward the floor."

Her eyes nearly popped from her head in reaction, but she knew she couldn't protest. She complied by doing exactly what I said, my eyes now on her frail back. I pushed the black skirt up and bunched it above her waist, my eyebrow raising at the sight of her thong. It covered practically nothing.

I placed a bible and cross in front of her, instructing her to press her forehead against the bible and hold the cross with both hands, propping herself up with her elbows. Another act of compliance as she meticulously obeyed, head between her arms.

I removed the belt from their loops of my pants, it would have to suffice since I do not have appropriate tools for corporal punishments. With one crack as a warning, the belt came down forcefully on her soft bottom, leaving a red mark in its wake. She gasped and yelped at the same time, her body shuddering as it recovered from the sudden pain.

I knew it stung just by looking at the now visible welt growing. I felt no remorse or guilt either. I cracked down another whip against her flesh, and another... One for each obscenity she used in the booth. Her breath grew labored, and I knew she was nearing her limit already.

"Good job," I set the belt on the floor, the small clink causing her body to jolt slightly. "We'll continue next week, same time, same day. Now go." I turned my back to her, listening to her scrambling to get up and adjust herself. I know there was more she wanted to say, but my silent attitude wouldn't let her.

She left without another word, looking flustered.