Immoral Counselling

[OOC: This thread is closed for Fuckmeat and myself. We hope you enjoy our little tale]

Father John sat in the near dark of the confessional booth, slowly readying himself for the first of his flock to come forth and ease the burdens from their tarnished souls. The old stone church remained cool in summer, warm in winter; the temperature varying slightly throughout the year. When the sun was not available to light the interior, electric lights served to keep the same level of illumination, except during formal high services when candles were lit.

Father John's deep breath pulled in the lingering fragrance of the incense from the last mass, as well as the tangy, acrid touch of candle smoke. The lack of light within the booth sharpened his hearing, allowing him to hear the murmur of soft spoken voices coupled with the careful movements of the parishioners as they went about their observances.

The sounds of slightly hesitant footsteps heralded the approach of the first of his confessors. A woman from the sounds of her shoes on the stone floor. There was what felt like a blinding flash of light as the booth's curtain was pulled back enough to allow entry. Soon, the woman was seated, and commenced her ritual absolving of her sins.

"Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned..."

Over the hour, Father John heard a bedazzling array of sins. Adultery confessed by both parties; the husband of the adulteress wondering why he has failed as a husband, since his wife was no longer interested in him; theft, drug taking, even though the young man was doing his best to break the habit; plus the normal run of harmless thoughts that were never acted on and guilty pleasures that were not that sinful. By the end of the last confessor, he felt burdened himself. He advised them all on how to cease their sinful ways, as well as giving them penance. But he knew that his words would do nothing to change what they did. He would hear again and again of their continued acts, further fueling his feelings of helplessness.

In the quiet, dark sanctuary of the confessional, Father John decided that he would take active steps to help his flock. While he could not act on what he had been told in the booth, he would instruct them to speak with their Priest in private as part of their penance. Those that did, then he could aid them as they spoke opening to him about their issue. The burden he felt lifted somewhat. He knew that he had come to the right path, as The Lord showed him a sign.

Relieved, and armed with new hope, energy and purpose, Father John started to rise when he heard the approach of another confessor. He sat down, preparing himself to put his thoughts into action. His body was buzzing with the adrenaline spurred on by his new course of action. He called on his training from his novitiate days, calming himself so he could receive the confession properly.

The brief illumination was enough to show a young woman, but all of that was pushed to the side as she too started the ritual of the confession.

"Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned..."

Lydia woke with the rising sun, her bedclothes tangled tight around her body. After the first blind rush of fear at being restrained, her mind cleared and she remembered what had happened the evening before. It was no wonder that her sleep had been troubled. There was a heavy lassitude between her thighs, a dull ache in her small breasts and all of the lips on her young body were swollen from illicit kisses. Lydia turned over to regard her alarm clock and noticed instead the red light flashing importantly on her mobile phone.

"What the hell did we do? Meet me after Mass."

Hannah. Her name was Hannah.

They had been best friends at school, happily living the carefree lives that children did. The strict, gender-segregated Catholic high school they attended did not offer any kind of sex education until senior year. Then they were obliged by law to give full and impartial sex ed, which meant alluding to practises that the church forbade in a non-judgemental manner. Lydia and Hannah had sat there open-mouthed, giggling with the other girls while a rather matronly nurse in her fifties rolled a flavoured condom onto a banana without a trace of embarrassment, while explaining the differences between water and silicone based lubricants. The girls were all handed samples of condoms, lubricants, dental dams, spermicides and other unmentionables, along with leaflets offering secular sources of advice and support regarding contraception, unplanned pregnancy and homosexuality.

The homosexuality leaflet was emblazoned with a picture of two pretty girls on the verge of kissing. Their lips were parted and mere millimetres apart. One girl was tenderly cupping the other's face. Despite her Catholic upbringing, the picture excited Lydia. She turned towards Hannah.

For the rest of her life, that moment would be encapsulated in her mind as a golden one, never to fade with time. Hannah's dark blonde hair was glinting in the sunlight from a nearby window. She was laughing at something one of their friends had said. She was flawless. Lydia knew right then that she loved her, in the fraction of a moment before her mouth watered and her loins clenched with lust, she knew.

That night Lydia had set out to seduce. She was young, inexperienced and awkward but then so was the object of her affection. She swiped some potent red wine from her parents' liquor cabinet and drank a glass while she tried vainly to view anything graphic and lesbian on the net. Her parents had strict internet controls in place but Lydia saw tantalising softcore hints at what she and Hannah could enjoy together. She knew it was wrong, that it was totally forbidden by God and the church but she had never felt this way about any of the boys she knew. It felt like it was something her body was begging for. Sure she thought some boys were attractive and in the future she could see herself as a wife and mother. That stuff had no bearing on how she felt about Hannah however.

Later that night, after sharing the wine with Hannah and jesting lewdly about the sex ed class, Lydia could hold back no longer. She pushed Hannah's hair out of her eyes and leaned forward to plant a kiss on her wine-stained lips. Hannah froze and for a moment that lasted almost forever, Lydia thought she was going to have to pull away. Then Hannah's lips moved against hers. In her drunken state, this moved Lydia to tears and left her sobbing her love for Hannah into the other girl's mouth. Her arms went around Hannah and then gradually began to explore. She found a hard nipple and tweaked gently. Hannah gasped.

"You ever touch yourself?" Lydia asked in a hoarse whisper. Hannah shook her head, eyes wide with excitement, shame and apprehension. Lydia smiled. "I do. I'm going to make you cum."

Under the cover of some loud music on the stereo, Lydia proceeded to do just that. Hannah's supple young body was a work of art and every inch she uncovered was a revelation. It was Hannah though, who wanted to reciprocate, who rolled on top of Lydia and started kissing her pussy. Hannah's phone beeped then however, announcing that it was nearly her curfew. Talk about crappy timing!

In the morning's light, Lydia didn't know what to make of Hannah's text. It could suggest she was feeling guilty about it, or even that the whole thing had been a mistake. There were no kisses or terms of endearment, which wasn't encouraging. Lydia began to feel guilty about instigating the whole thing. Hannah never showed up for Mass, though that could have been because she was hungover... but why not text Lydia the reason so she wouldn't worry? It was all very confusing.

Lydia dressed as she usually did; adhering to the letter of the boring modest dresscode while flouting it in spirit. Beneath her white blouse and pinafore was a black bra and she left one more button open than her mother would like. The pinafore was a little too snug for her but Lydia still wore it anyway, liking the way it hugged her slim curves. It fell decently to below her knee but she had contrived to split the skirt at one side to reveal one leg to above the knee. Heels were also considered sinful but Lydia wore chunky shoes that gave her a couple extra inches of height and lengthened her calves while not looking like heels. She used kohl to make her dark green eyes smoky and slicked clear gloss over her lips. None of this was anything much until you put it all together with her raven hair and tiny, alabaster pale frame. The package was a knock-out and boys in the congregation regularly jerked off at night to fantasies about her. Lydia didn't know how to talk to boys though. What they saw as aloofness was really well disguised terror of the opposite sex. Small wonder then that she'd made such a strong bond with her girlfriend.

By the time Mass was over, Lydia felt wretched. She was not a little hungover herself and a melancholy had gripped her. The crucified Lord Jesus suspended over the altar seemed to be staring at her accusingly. Lydia's eyes flickered to the confessional more than once. Until now she had only unburdened herself of the most trivial misdemeanours but this would be very different. If she could tell Hannah she had been to confession though, it might make all the difference to at least retaining her friendship. Hannah must regret the whole thing or she'd have been in touch again by now. Lydia became convinced of it.

She watched Father John as he led the congregation through Mass. The man was in his mid thirties and had been their local priest for some years now. He had presided at Lydia's confirmation some years ago and she had been rather taken with him back then. It shocked her to think now that he was probably a virgin who had ever experienced anything like the passion she had last night. How could he possibly understand how great her temptation had been, or how good it had felt to yield to it?

She stayed a while in private prayer while her parents mingled with the other parishoners. Lydia stayed after most people had left. After a while the priest went into the confessional and various parishoners came and went. Lydia amused herself for a while trying to guess what their sins might be. Finally, she was the only person left in the church and it was quiet enough for her to hear the priest rise from the old wooden seat within the booth. Unable to procrastinate any longer, Lydia rose and made her way swiftly to the confessional, breathing a very short lived sigh of relief when the priest heard her approaching and sat down again. Lydia seated herself, wondering how much time she had wasted here when she had had nothing real to confess, just unburdening her mind of the most petty worries. And this man had already heard a great deal of them. Would he know it was her, recognise her voice? Probably. What if he wanted to know who she had gone to bed with? Surely he wasn't allowed to make her tell? Lydia realised he was waiting for her to speak.

"F-forgive me father... for I have sinned." She sighed heavily. How could she possibly explain this to a man who had never had sex? Lydia's hands twisted in her lap, the memory of Hannah's curves imprinted on them.

"I have... I have fallen in love... but with a girl. We were just friends until last night but then we drank some wine and... " Lydia knew it was a little cowardly to blame the booze but it had lubricated proceedings a great deal. "We started kissing and... the kissing led to other things. So... I have sinned by having lesbian sex Father. I love this girl and I think... I think maybe she loves me. I can't stop thinking about her. It makes me... well, I have masturbated in the past and it makes me want to masturbate a lot, which feels like less of a sin. I'm sorry father."

The longing was evident in her voice, she couldn't hide it. Nor could she hide how frustrating even the thought of masturbation was after the events of last night. Lydia said she was sorry because that was the whole reason she was there; to be repentant. But the truth was that she wasn't sorry or repentant, just despairing of such a night ever happening again.

Father John Calloway straightened his back as he sat in the cool, dimness of the booth. The seat had been the resting place for countless priests, whose garments had worn down the wood enough that there was not a chance of getting a splinter, even if naked flesh rested against it. He sat quietly as a familiar young woman's voice softly spoke of her sins.

Father John started to smile as he recognized Lydia's voice. He was preparing himself for hear about how she thought badly of her classmates. Or how she thought spiteful things about her teacher. Of course, she, like most of the girls her age, looked longingly at some of the boys, and confessed about her thoughts. All of the natural things a young person did that required just a little change in outlook to make them go away.

"I have... I have fallen in love... but with a girl. We were just friends until last night but then we drank some wine and... We started kissing and... the kissing led to other things. So... I have sinned by having lesbian sex Father. I love this girl and I think... I think maybe she loves me. I can't stop thinking about her. It makes me... well, I have masturbated in the past and it makes me want to masturbate a lot, which feels like less of a sin. I'm sorry father."

Father John was caught completely off guard by the confession. As she spoke, he heard her voice, the tone that suggested that she was far from sorry, and if anything, she would be happy to have it happen again. While he was still a virgin, he was worldly enough to know the more technical details about sex, as well as the attractions of it and the powers of hormones.

Those same hormones fueled his imagination of partially naked, nubile bodies entwined in rumpled sheets, hair and limbs splayed about them in a mostly innocent respite. Of soft moans and cries of delight as lips tasted another's lips, bounties and body. Of fingers delicately touching curves and hidden places that husbands should explore and discover on wedding nights. Intimate acts involving slow undulations that used the bodies to reunite a fractured soul.

Father John knew he had spent too much time letting his mind travel down paths that were not meant to be traveled. He let out his breath slowly and quietly, before readying his reply to the clearly troubled young woman.

"My dear child," the Father spoke softly in reply, "these are grave sins you have shared with me. Some, I am sad to know you have not confessed earlier, but this latest one is the most troublesome. I dearly hope that you were seduced by a lesbian, because if not, then you have sinned further by leading another astray into a path not condoned by The Lord or His Church."

Nerves gripped him, as he realized that this woman would be perfect for him to counsel in the manner he thought. But to discuss the matters of sex, outside of the sanctity of marriage, that was enough to give him tremors. But, Lydia was just on the cusp, she could be pulled back before any damage was done to her, her reputation and her family's honour.

"There is no easy penance I can give you, my child, for the sins you have confessed, directly and not. Nor is there one that will be passed quickly. Such thoughts, ones that you have acted on, are now a danger not only to you, but to the members of this parish too. How do you think it would feel for another woman of this parish to feel if they caught you lusting for them?

"If you want The Lord's forgiveness, if you want to ensure that you entire life is not ruined by this one act, then you will seek out help. Go and see the priest of your Church. Talk to him. Tell him of what you have done, and why. With his help, you can be guided back onto the righteous path without drawing any suspicion unto yourself and before you bring harm to another within the parish.

"Until then, I cannot give you any absolution for your sins. I'm sorry, my child, but I cannot merely sit here and watch you potentially destroy your life, and many others as well. It may be harsh, but it is for the best.

"Go, child. Be with God."

Father John eased back onto the back wall of the booth. His sharp blue eyes closed as he tried to calm himself down. Closer to forty than thirty, he had been an average young man with respect to his desires concerning women. He loved and lusted equally, almost interchangeably, many women he knew or saw. He had even managed to touch and be touched on more than one occasion, but nothing more. He received his calling, and missed out on the greatest joy a man and a woman could share.

As he waited for his last confessor to depart, and maintain the fiction of secrecy, he allowed himself to be grateful that the confessional was large enough to permit his somewhat sizable frame within it. He was a tall man, two inches past six feet, and being a stocky man to start with, his calling meant he lacked the exercise he needed, and had a little more around his middle than he should have. Fortunately, his work wear helped to conceal the excess to make it not as noticeable. His wavy brown hair was cut conservatively, in keeping with the Church's rules, as well as being clean shaven.

The prospect of helping Lydia return from a potential homosexual life choice to a heterosexual one was both daunting and exciting. He had no idea of how he would do it. All he could guess at was that it would require many sessions of talking, extolling the virtues of the way of life God created for them, showing her the error of her ways in being attracted, sexually, to another woman and guiding her into socializing with young men to get her attracted to them.

The excitement came from the knowledge he was going to do something positive and active in help one of his flock, rather than just listening and handing out advice that would not be listened to along with some impotent rituals that he doubted many of his confessors actually did. But there was a darker excitement too. He would hear about this young woman's thoughts and feelings about her sexuality. To hear in detail what the two women did together.

Long suppressed primal urges slowly began to work their way up from the dark depths to which they had been assigned. 'Of course, the best way to show her the benefits of being with a man is to show her. To be a man, and take her as a woman. Love her as God commanded. Love thy neighbour, we are taught. The union between a man and a woman is the purest form of love there is.' John shuddered at how delightful those whispered words felt. Lydia was a fine looking young woman. She would be a magnificent wife to some fortunate man. A man that would know her as some other woman had a chance to.

'She is one of the flock, John. One you are to guide and protect.' His breathing slowed and calmed, taking away tension he hadn't felt. He stood slowly, easing himself out of the booth. The church was empty of those who called in to seek solace in The Lord. He walked in the cool, quiet House of God until he reached the main doors. With a brief flicker of his eyes towards Heaven, he closed the doors and locked them. He went through the daily ritual of ensuring the safety of his most important charge, before retiring to his rectory. As he closed and locked the final door, he wondered if he would see Lydia and help her with her penance.

The pause after she had spoken lasted such a long time that Lydia began to dread what the priest would say. If he insisted on telling her parents they would be disgusted and devastated. She was 99% certain he couldn't do that but then her sin was very great. Of course he wasn't supposed to know who she was but she had been part of his flock for too long to think for one moment that he wouldn't recognise her voice. She vowed right there that she would never name Hannah as her lover. Her confession was her own affair. Finally, the priest's low voice rumbled through the partition, shocked and full of reproach.

"My dear child, these are grave sins you have shared with me. Some, I am sad to know you have not confessed earlier, but this latest one is the most troublesome. I dearly hope that you were seduced by a lesbian, because if not, then you have sinned further by leading another astray into a path not condoned by The Lord or His Church."

Lydia reddened and tears began to splash silently down her face. She had given up confessing the occasional times when she masturbated over a year ago. She had been shriven of the offence so many times that she was sure both God and the priest must be heartily sick of her purported repentance. She had apologised to God and sought forgiveness in private prayer but Lydia had been unable to go back to confession with the habit and listen to the priest's low sigh of disappointment.

Secondly, she had most certainly not been seduced by a lesbian. At not time had she ever considered applying such a label to herself. She didn't think she was a lesbian. She had had crushes on boys in the past and she mostly thought about male celebrities when she masturbated... until recently anyway. Perhaps being in love with a girl made you a lesbian? She didn't like to think of herself as predatory but that was really how she had been. She had wanted to kiss Hannah and as soon as that happened she had wanted so much more. She had lead another astray. She was despicable. Her crying increased to barely controlled sobs. Father John wasn't nearly done admonishing her however.

"There is no easy penance I can give you, my child, for the sins you have confessed, directly and not. Nor is there one that will be passed quickly. Such thoughts, ones that you have acted on, are now a danger not only to you, but to the members of this parish too. How do you think it would feel for another woman of this parish to feel if they caught you lusting for them?

"If you want The Lord's forgiveness, if you want to ensure that you entire life is not ruined by this one act, then you will seek out help. Go and see the priest of your Church. Talk to him. Tell him of what you have done, and why. With his help, you can be guided back onto the righteous path without drawing any suspicion unto yourself and before you bring harm to another within the parish.

"Until then, I cannot give you any absolution for your sins. I'm sorry, my child, but I cannot merely sit here and watch you potentially destroy your life, and many others as well. It may be harsh, but it is for the best.

"Go, child. Be with God."

It had never occurred to Lydia that she wouldn't be forgiven on the spot. She didn't know priests could withhold forgiveness until repentance had been proven by the sinner. The mere thought of approaching Father John to discuss her sordid sexlife was enough to make Lydia nauseous. He would be disgusted with her, it sounded like he already was. He certainly wouldn't understand.

Lydia fished a tissue out of her handbag and blew her nose noisily, fighting down her tears in an effort to speak clearly to the priest.

"I'm so sorry... it'll never happen again."

She meant the words when she said them, vehemently. Lydia suddenly felt claustrophobic in the gloomy little booth. She pushed her way past the heavily curtained door and bolted for the door. Only when she was out in the bright sunlight and halfway down the church's front path did she slow down. Lydia resolved to prove to the priest that she was serious about her penance. She pulled out her phone to text her mother and let her know she wouldn't be home till later. Blinking on the screen was a received message from Hannah. Lydia had had her phone on silent during mass and hadn't noticed its arrival.

"Sorry I didn't go, thought I'd get struck by lightening or something. Meet me in the park tonight? I'll bring something to drink xxx

Lydia actually stamped her foot. WHY couldn't Hannah had sent this message before Mass? Well no matter, they definitely needed to talk. Lydia replied saying she would be at the park at 8pm. Then she messaged her parents and trudged miserably towards Father John's rectory. She sat down on his doorstep and attempted to control her tears until the priest eventually strode into view. He looked very tall and imposing from her seat upon his doorstep, but Lydia put that impression largely down to her own feelings of shame and guilt. She hugged her knees and shot him wary looks from beneath her eyelashes, as though he might physically chastise her for her sins.

The Father was lost in his thoughts as he walked from the Church to his home. He was unsure of his chosen course of action, as it was close to breaching one of the most sacred aspects of the Church. But, the Father Confessor had sent Lydia to him, to tell him of her sin. He would then be able to act freely from whatever she told him as Father John.

He had to be honest with himself and hoped that the girl, no, young woman, didn't have the courage to follow through with his command to tell him. The anonymity of the confessional booth worked both ways, allowing him to remain detached enough to fulfill his duties to those confessing. This would be different. There would be no shield to separate them from what was being discussed. Nothing to hide the expressions and body language that would come from telling and hearing. But then, he would be able to be more caring, more personal than he would otherwise be. He would be better able to guide and assist the endangered member of his parish.

He came into view of the rectory, and say the small, slightly huddled form of Lydia sitting on the steps. Nervousness caused a spike in adrenaline within him. She was there, waiting for him. He kept walking as if there was nothing of immediate concern. He had to maintain the illusion of the sanctity of the Confessional. Publicly, he had no idea why she was there. He didn't know that she was there to talk to him about her dabbling in Lesbian love.

As he got closer, he was clearly reminded that Lydia was no longer a child. She was indeed a young woman of beauty, and of even greater beauty as she matured further. A thought of sadness flickered through his mind about how some man was going to miss out on having a woman like her for a wife. His blink went a little longer as he put her in the position of a wife in the couple's bed, her doing her duties as a wife for her husband. He saw her face looking over her husband's shoulder, damp with sweat and with the look of pleasure and discomfort of a woman close to having her pleasure given to her. He ushered the images from his mind, reminding himself yet again of who she was and who he was.

As he closed, he smiled warmly to Lydia, wanting to put her at ease. He wanted to show her that he was not angry or upset with her. He wanted to let her know that he thought she was visiting for some other reason than to continue telling him of her sins. He saw that she was clearly upset, huddled while waiting for him. He noticed that the short skirt, which had ridden dangerously high on her legs, had opened up on one side. He was acutely aware of her leg, all the way to her hip. The seemingly unnaturally long, shapely limb was attractively displayed so innocently. Yet, seeing the expanse of light coloured flesh caused a tightening in his belly that scared him. But as he tore his eyes away from her leg, he saw that the buttons of her blouse were not secured as they normally were. While there was nothing unseemly visible, it did make his attention wander for a moment, wondering for the briefest moment how many more button would be needed to be undone to reveal her youthful cleavage.

"Hello, Lydia." Father John kept his voice calm and pleased. "Have you been waiting to see me?" He made the appearance of seeing her expression, and the signs of crying. Automatically, he became legitimately concerned for the young woman, dropping down into a squat before her. "Are you alright? Is there a problem, Lydia?

"Please, come with me. We'll talk inside." He stood up quickly, keeping his eyes on hers, so he avoided staring at her exposed legs. He held out a hand for her to use to help herself stand. Once she was standing, he quietly led her into the rectory. Like the Church, the priest's home was also a stone building, sturdy and homely. He led her through the central hallway to the small kitchen and dining room. A plain chunky wooden table, surrounded by equally sturdy chairs occupied one half of the room. He directed Lydia to a chair, with him sitting in one close by.

"Now, Lydia, what can I do to help you? Is there something you want to talk about?"

Father John hoped that she would unburden herself about her sins. He also hoped that she would talk of something else, and he would be free to find another to help that would not scare him so much. Again, he hoped she would tell him about her sin, feeding the small darkness within him, letting it draw images of Lydia and some other woman engaged in lewd acts.

'Remember, John. A shepherd of the Lord. You guide the lambs. Not sup on their tenderness.'

"It's OK, Lydia. Anything you tell me will remain secret between us, if that will help. Please, tell me what is wrong. What has hurt you?"

For a moment, she was profoundly confused. Father John gave no indication that he expected her to be there. She had been sure it was him who went into the confession booth but his benevolent smile was untroubled as he approached her. Only when she lifted her head properly and he could see that she had been crying did the smile falter. He squatted down in front of her, quite evidently bemused by her tearful arrival on his doorstep. Who then had she confessed to? Telling one priest had been ordeal enough but for two of them to know what she had done?

He welcomed her inside and she took in the austere surroundings without any surprise or interest. She had never been inside the priest's home before. She followed him miserably to his dining room, hoping desperately that he would tell her he knew why she was there.

"Now, Lydia, what can I do to help you? Is there something you want to talk about?"

She sighed and sat down, resigned now to recounting her sin once again. Perhaps she would feel better if she told him, less guilty? Perhaps he would forgive her as the confessional priest had not?

"It's OK, Lydia. Anything you tell me will remain secret between us, if that will help. Please, tell me what is wrong. What has hurt you?"

"I have... sinned." She replied querulously, gulping as her tears subsided somewhat. "it's um... it was quite a big sin. I got drunk with a friend and we ended up in bed together... because I love her... my friend."

He paused, paused for too long and she felt compelled to fill the silence.

"I didn't tell you. I mean, I didn't confess but I've been... masturbating... sometimes. We had sex ed at school and I've always really liked this girl but I never knew she loved me too and then... everything just sort of happened."

She couldn't look at him. Lydia sat hunched forwards in her chair, her hands shredding tissue into her lap and her gaze fixed on Father John's shoes. A golden crucifix dipped into her blouse with every stifled sob. Her long dark hair tumbled down around her face, framing the kohl running down her tear streaked cheeks and her quivering bottom lip.

Father John felt bad about what he was putting Lydia through, but he reminded himself that it was for her long term benefit. He wasn't aware of her lack of knowledge about the sanctity of the confessional, and viewed her discomfort as a stronger indication of her need for help.

"I have... sinned. It's um... it was quite a big sin. I got drunk with a friend and we ended up in bed together... because I love her... my friend."

Father John kept his face impassive, listening intently to the young woman. It sounded more like the other woman was not a lesbian, and that Lydia was imperiling the soul of another of his parish. It was a complication that he was not sure how to handle.

"I didn't tell you. I mean, I didn't confess but I've been... masturbating... sometimes. We had sex ed at school and I've always really liked this girl but I never knew she loved me too and then... everything just sort of happened."

He looked on, staring at her hands as they tore apart the tissue she held. It was clear to him that she was confused, guilt ridden but in a place where she could be saved. He looked up to speak to her, only to be met with a tear stained face threatened to be obscured by a closing curtain of raven hair. He reached for one of his own tissues, then leaned forward to dab the streaking makeup off her cheeks. After doing the best he could, he sat up straight again.

"Lydia, thank you for speaking to me about this. You have mentioned some serious sins, ones that you will need help to absolve yourself from. These are too grave to just forgive. Especially given that you have harboured sinful activities without confessing them as is proper.

"Before we go any further, Lydia O'Brien, there will be some rigid rules that you will adhere to so that you will be forgiven for these terrible sins. You will not mention this matter to any other Father Confessor. You will speak of it only to me, while we are here. You will come here to receive guidance and counseling so that you are once more on the proper and righteous path. You will tell the truth, Lydia O'Brien, and answer all questions leaving out as little as possible."

He looked at her sternly, his disappointment in her evident in the way he looked at her. He was close to abusing his position. He would seek the Lord's forgiveness, but He would understand His shepherd's true goal.

"Now, Lydia, I need you to tell me what happened, and how. It is important that I know, so I can best help you. If you... led her, then the help you would need will be different to if she led you into sin. You're not here only to be punished, you are here to make sure that this doesn't happen again. To make sure that you're not lost to God. That you don't ruin your life which lies before you. That you don't ruin the lives of others, like your parents, or your... friend. The one that you love in a manner that you shouldn't."

He reached out, his hand gently cupping Lydia's chin. He lifted her face until she was looking at him directly. "You are not alone, Lydia. I am here to help you. If you'll let me. Before it's too late."

Her face fell and Lydia's blush deepened as Father John admonished her for failing to confess some of her sins and outlined his conditions for helping her. The thought of sitting in this spartan room and confessing in detail the acts of decadent lust she had perpetrated with Hannah last night just made her want to run away. He dabbed her tears away but Lydia was more concerned about the dark kohl running from her eyes. No doubt Father John would be disapproving of her make-up.

"Now, Lydia, I need you to tell me what happened, and how. It is important that I know, so I can best help you. If you... led her, then the help you would need will be different to if she led you into sin. You're not here only to be punished, you are here to make sure that this doesn't happen again. To make sure that you're not lost to God. That you don't ruin your life which lies before you. That you don't ruin the lives of others, like your parents, or your... friend. The one that you love in a manner that you shouldn't."

She nodded miserably. What other option was there now?

He reached out, his hand gently cupping Lydia's chin. He lifted her face until she was looking at him directly. "You are not alone, Lydia. I am here to help you. If you'll let me. Before it's too late."

His touch just made her start sobbing incoherently. Confessing her sins had, until that moment, been something she had simply been encouraged to do by her parents, like the childish and inconsequential private prayers she had been offering up until recently. It was only when Father John spoke to her so that she realised how concerned he was about her. For him this was about the grace of her immortal soul, a thing he believed in as an absolute truth rather than an abstract concept. He actually believed that she would be condemned by God in the event of her death if she didn't change her ways, tossed into the fires of hell. That possibility distressed him greatly. It was a very sobering thought.

Lydia hugged him.

It was an awkward embrace and she deposited plenty of tears on his shoulder but Father John's concern for her had moved Lydia so deeply that she had felt compelled to express it somehow. Her small, soft body clung to his in the way she might cling to her father in a moment of great distress. Embracing his solid bulk and burying her face in his shoulder made her visibly calmer, as though physical contact with him made her feel invulnerable. After a moment or two however, Lydia realised how inappropriate her gesture was and backed away apologetically until the wooden chair she had been sitting on hit her in the back of her legs, compelling her to sit.

Lydia dragged her mind back to the question he had posed to her, gradually fighting down her sobs until they had been reduced to sniffles once more. She told the whole story to Father John, the moment in the classroom when she had known how she felt about 'her friend,' her fevered masturbation in a toilet cubicle just so she could focus on the afternoon's classes, the theft of her parents' wine and her clumsy seduction of the object of her affection. From there, things became more explicit; the way she had kissed 'her friend's' breasts, slipped a hand down to stimulate the other girl's clitoris in a way her friend had never done herself, how Lydia's lips soon followed her hands and brought the girl to her first orgasm.

There, her account faltered. Lydia knew the tone of her voice had strayed from repentant to lustful again. She stared at the hem of Father John's robes, unable to look at him. She knew he would see the gleam in her eye that the memory conjured.

When his hand went to her cheek, lifting her to face him, Lydia started to cry. Immediately, Father John thought he went too far, and the troubled young woman would be lost to him forever.

Then she hugged him. A genuine need for human contact. The warming reassurance of another person. In that moment she wrapped her arms around him, he knew his course was true and correct. The inappropriate thoughts were banished from his mind as Lydia sobbed on his shoulder, releasing the emotion turmoil that was eating away at her. He didn't feel bad about the press of her body against his. She needed the support from him, and he gave it as a good Christian would. He held her warmly, tenderly while her crying ran its course.

He felt her stiffen slightly prior to her breaking off the hug. He did nothing to stop her, letting her retain the new found calm by choosing her own time for the hug. He gave her a reassuring smile, pleased that she got what she sought in the comfort of the hug. She sat herself down, regaining a little more of her composure.

Then Lydia recounted what happened. At first the detail was acceptable, but then she told him about how she dealt with her initial revelation and what they together in some graphic detail. Father John found himself blushing at little at the explicit terms and descriptions she used. But he kept his peace, and listened to what she said, not letting his feelings get in the way. After she spoke of bringing her friend to orgasm, Lydia faltered in her retelling. He was too focused on her words to catch the tone. He thought she came to a stop because she was embarrassing him.

Father John cleared his throat a little, trying to gather his thoughts so he could do this properly. He looked directly at Lydia, sensing her discomfort and sought to calm her.

"Lydia, firstly, thank you for having the courage to do this. I will admit, what you have told me so far is quite... well, not what I expected, but then I will be honest and say I didn't know what to expect.

"So, in the Sexual Education class, you realized your feelings for the girl in question. You took it upon yourself to... masturbate in the toilets to calm yourself down for the remainder of the day. You then stole some wine from your parents, and proceeded to seduce the one you love." Father John felt a little more uncomfortable restating how she did it, but he pushed on, being as professional as he could. "You kissed her, and when she accepted it, you proceeded to explore her body with your hands and mouth, using both on her breasts and her... most private of places." Father John refused to use the word Lydia had. "And because of these activities, you brought her to orgasm."

He let his breath out, not realizing that he had been holding so much back. While he continued to steady his breathing, a slight frown developed.

"Lydia O'Brien, I am most disappointed in you. Your litany of sins is growing at an alarming rate. You stole from your parents?" His face went pale. "For the love of God, Lydia, in all honesty, tell me that your lover is of age, as you are."

Lydia was dismayed. She had been so guilt-ridden about the sexual things she had done with Hannah that she had forgotten completely the other sins she had perpetrated in the pursuit of that sex. Now Father John had pointed out how wrong it was to steal from her parents and how shameful masturbation was, especially masturbation that she had felt compelled to do, even when the only private place she could get away with it was a toilet cubicle. It all made her feel twice as dirty and sinful about everything. As self loathing crashed over Lydia in waves, the priest voiced another serious concern.

"For the love of God, Lydia, in all honesty, tell me that your lover is of age, as you are."

She nodded emphatically, relieved to be able to play some part of this incident down.

"Yes, she was the same age as me father."

Lydia abruptly stopped talking at that point, unwilling to say anything that might point to Hannah as the object of her affections.

"I don't think I'm a lesbian or anything." She stammered plaintively. "I do like boys as well but... well I don't go to school with them and I don't know how to talk to them. I do want to get married to a boy one day but... right now I am in love with my friend father. There just doesn't seem to be anything I can do about that."

Lydia began mentally cataloguing the stuff Father John still didn't know about; how being in the physical ed changing rooms at school always made her excited, how the communal showers that everyone else despised were a highlight of her day, how she was trying to get around the parental controls on her home computer network. He would be appalled to learn of all these things. Lydia had no intention of telling him either, but they thrust themselves to the forefront of her mind, making her feel even worse about everything.

She was a terrible Christian. How could she ever have thought that telling Father John would be enough of a penance?

Father John felt immensely relieved to hear that news. Since he was not hearing this in a confessional, he was afraid that he might be compelled to report any breaking of the law to the Police. Since she had not acted with a minor, he was relieved that he didn't need to do that. The thought that she had stolen some of her parent's wine was a crime, though a small one, didn't make the same connection in his mind.

"I don't think I'm a lesbian or anything. I do like boys as well but... well I don't go to school with them and I don't know how to talk to them. I do want to get married to a boy one day but... right now I am in love with my friend father. There just doesn't seem to be anything I can do about that."

Father John looked at Lydia almost sternly. He sat himself straighter in his chair while he thought through his response.

"Then what do you call a woman who has had sex with another woman? One I assume with the affection that you hold for her, that it is something that could happen again, or that you would like to happen again? And, I also assume that you have not had sex with any men, have you? The one thing that would put it beyond reasonable doubt is if you found yourself sexually attracted to women in general, though your... friend was the one that finally tempted you to act.

"Nothing is beyond your ability to control, Lydia. It may seem that way, because you are young and this is the first of many such experiences that life will present to you that will make you feel daunted.

"Now, I want you to come back here the day after tomorrow, during the late afternoon. We will work together on getting you back on the straight and righteous path again, Lydia. While your soul is in peril, it is not yet lost. No more of these... get togethers with your friend either, Lydia. Remember, everything you have and will say to me will be kept secret. This will be where you will have your confessions from now on. I will be your Father Confessor.

"I am here to help you. I will not judge you harshly. It will not be easy, but the most important things in life never are."

Father John stood up, and helped Lydia to stand. Walking slightly ahead of her, he led her to the front door of the Rectory. There, he turned and gave her a warm hug, holding her just long enough to be comforting but not restricting. As he released her, he let his hands rest on her shoulders. He then kissed her gently on the top of her forehead just below her hairline.

"Go, child. Be with God."

He opened the door, watching her until she left the Rectory grounds and closed the door.

"Lord, please grant me the wisdom and knowledge to help this young woman in her time of need."

Father John put the thoughts of Lydia and her guidance to the back of his mind as he went to prepare his dinner.

Lydia's mind was in turmoil as she walked home, she didn't even remember making the journey. Everything Father John had said to her reverberated around her head, gaining volume and becoming more disappointed and contemptuous with every recitation.

You have mentioned some serious sins, ones that you will need help to absolve yourself from. These are too grave to just forgive. Especially given that you have harboured sinful activities without confessing them as is proper.

You're not here only to be punished, you are here to make sure that this doesn't happen again.

To make sure that you're not lost to God.

That you don't ruin your life which lies before you.

That you don't ruin the lives of others.

Lydia O'Brien, I am most disappointed in you.

She couldn't eat her dinner, she just lay on her bed and cried. Hannah's texts went unread and unanswered. Eventually Lydia just turned off her phone. She got down on her knees beside her bed in a way she hadn't done since she was a small child and Lydia prayed to God. She told him she was sorry, that she knew she was a bad and wicked person and would do her best to change her ways. She thanked God for Father John, his understanding and guidance.

As the moon rose Lydia didn't even have the strength left to change into her nightclothes, she just stripped off and got under the covers. That proved to be a mistake. She lay there, forcibly reminded of how her body had felt against Hannah's. Her hands cupped her small breasts, assessingly at first but then the began to linger, making her pussy moisten. Lydia put her hand determinedly above the covers and turned onto her side.

She dreamed... fevered dreams of Hannah. They were in the church, on the altar, moaning into one another's mouths, tearing at each other's confining, modest dresses. Lydia awoke in the dark when a loud whimper fell from her lips. Her fingers were rubbing against her clit and the damp patch on her bed, along with the aftershocks tingling through her body, told her she had just climaxed.

"I'm sorry." She whispered, to Father John as much as God, as she tried to calm herself and sleep once more.

Father John spent the next day researching. He sat at his dining room tale, the laptop computer plugged into the main power, while he was able to tend to his physical needs, food and tea, while he worked. He looked on the internet, visiting a few psychological sites he was a member of, seeking some insights on how to help this most troubled of teenagers. He knew her problem was being aggravated by the nature of her schooling. Of course, her social life would be linked to her friends from school, and most of them would not be spending too much time with boys either.

He thought of some of the church sponsored clubs and events designed to get young men and women mixing socially, but what he knew of Lydia, none of those would appeal to her. He never saw her as one who would like to dance, at least the ballroom styles being taught. The movie nights had been canceled after one to many couples tried to make use of the dark to cover certain activities that had been frowned upon. Reading and chess clubs were out too.

His brows closed on each other as he slumped back in his chair. "Maybe running one of those blue light discos might be an idea. Let the young men and women select the type of music they would like, and dance how they would like. That would get the right mix of people together. Hopefully, it will help some other of the youth with their socializing issues too."

His continued research uncovered some information that he found a bit disturbing. A leading woman in the field had written a number of papers that supported her viewpoint that most people were locking into their sexual identities, and the corresponding preferences, by the time they were 20. He realized that Lydia was in danger of becoming a lesbian if her view point was not changed soon.

"The girl... no, young woman, has said that she masturbates while thinking of her female lover. That would reinforce that particular sexual preference. Time was of the essence, and if I am going to achieve my goal of getting Lydia thinking and feeling like a normal heterosexual woman, I will need to take some rather unorthodox approaches."

He was starting to fell rather uncomfortable thinking about how he was going to help Lydia, particularly when he reminded himself that she was indeed a young woman, and no longer a girl. Added to that was the nature of why he was giving her help and guidance, it stirred what was natural reactions in him. "As long as you remember, John, that you are helping a young woman in her time of need, then what your body does, in private, is fine. We are not going to take advantage of this situation."

His sleep was troubled, filled with variations on how they parted company when they last meet. His first view was merely an accurate replay of what occurred. The next was a chaste kiss on her lips, which he thought he could taste her afterward. Then was a more prolonged kiss, less chaste, but not passionate. More shy and cautious like young lovers would kiss. But when he dreamt of them kissing more passionately, with him pulling her young body closer to his, he was shocked at how good it felt.

His mind continued to travel down forbidden paths, his imagination rising to the challenge of depicting scenes he had not experience with first hand, and had only seen briefly before answering his calling. Scenes that were too sexual in nature for a man like him to be having.

He woke the following morning feeling deeply troubled by his dreams. He would be meeting Lydia that afternoon, and he needed his mind clear for when that time arrived. But with his mind more focused on other issues, he forgot that the laptop computer was still on the dining table. On top of it being wireless, it was also not running any filter or blocking software, which allowed him to access any material he desired to read.

Since it was a Friday, John spent time in the Church holding some of the lesser services, hearing some confessions, and ensuring that all was a little closer to being ready for Sunday. All of it helped drive his errant thoughts aside and focus his efforts on his congregation.

After he completed all his duties in the Church, he headed back to the rectory, wondering if Lydia was going to be waiting for him for her next counseling session or not.

Lydia had rattled her brain for any plausible excuse not to go back to Father John's house. She couldn't tell her parents why she was having to go there, so she couldn't get them on side by pretending to be ill and have them tell the priest that she couldn't attend his counselling session. They would be very upset to think that there were things she could tell Father John that she couldn't bring to them. So it was that she found herself plodding reluctantly up his garden path to sit on his doorstep until he appeared from the last service.

She had been reading in her Bible about fornication and it was most emphatically not permitted, particularly not between two women. Romans Chapter 1 had been very explicit.

24 That is why God abandoned them in their inmost cravings to filthy practices of dishonouring their own bodies-
25 because they exchanged God's truth for a lie and have worshipped and served the creature instead of the Creator, who is blessed for ever. Amen.
26 That is why God abandoned them to degrading passions:
27 why their women have exchanged natural intercourse for unnatural practices; and the men, in a similar fashion, too, giving up normal relations with women, are consumed with passion for each other, men doing shameful things with men and receiving in themselves due reward for their perversion.
28 In other words, since they would not consent to acknowledge God, God abandoned them to their unacceptable thoughts and indecent behaviour.
29 And so now they are steeped in all sorts of injustice, rottenness, greed and malice; full of envy, murder, wrangling, treachery and spite,
30 libellers, slanderers, enemies of God, rude, arrogant and boastful, enterprising in evil, rebellious to parents,
31 without brains, honour, love or pity.
32 They are well aware of God's ordinance: that those who behave like this deserve to die -- yet they not only do it, but even applaud others who do the same.

Click to expand...

Lydia had cried at the thought that she deserved to die for impulses over which she firmly believed she had no control. It wasn't as though she woke up one morning, decided to be a lesbian and forcibly put aside all thoughts about guys. But now that she had acted upon these thoughts, which certainly counted as applauding others, her spiritual situation was dire.

She still hadn't contacted Hannah and the poor girl's bemusement in church when Lydia completely ignored her was very distressing. Lydia wanted to get Hannah on her own and tell her that she loved her but they couldn't be together any more. If she got Hannah on her own however, all thoughts of Christian propriety would fly straight out of her head. Better that Hannah hated her anyway, then there would be no temptation to get close to her again. But feeling the girl's eyes on her in church was utter torment.

Soon the priest came striding into view. Hannah's heart sank. No doubt she was about to get another lecture on how vile and wrong she was. Self loathing roiled in her gut, making her feel queasy.

"Hello again Father." She managed as he came within earshot.

Father John was more pleased than anxious when he saw Lydia seated on the stairs to the rectory. He didn't let his confusion show as he closed the distance between them. She needed him to be confident, assured and knowing of what he was doing with her. Any doubts would only serve to reinforce her troubles at that time.

"Hello again Father."

"Hello, Lydia. Thank you for turning up. Come on inside." He extended a hand to her to help her stand, then led the way up the stairs and into the Rectory. He shut the door behind them, locking it before heading down to the dining room where they last spoke.

"Please take a seat, Lydia." Father John got out a jug, filled it with water, and picked up two glasses. He brought them to the table, filling both glasses. He set one down next to Lydia, and he took a sip from the other as he sat down.

"Now, just to go over what we covered in the last session. While having the Sex Education class, you became fully aware of your feelings for a fellow classmate at school. You then proceeded to act on those feelings, while masturbating in private at school, then with the young woman in question. You used your hands and mouth to explore her, and she did similar to you.

"It is time for us to move on a little. Remember, Lydia, you need to be truthful, and keep nothing back when answering your questions. I am willing to allow you not to name your friend, but I think that it would be of great benefit to her to confess her sins as well. But that is her decision to make. However, if you decide to tell me, I will treat it with the confidence that it deserves."

Father John took a long sip from his glass, taking his time to place it back on the table in what appeared to be a precise motion.

"Have you had any more illicit meetings with you lover?" He paused a little between the questions, giving Lydia the chance to respond. "Have you been masturbating? If so, have you been thinking about your lover when you did so? Have you dreamt about your lover in a sexual way? Have you dreamt about any men in a sexual way?"

He watched Lydia closely whenever he asked her a question. He looked for telltale twitches, flickers of her eyes, changes in her movements, posture. He wanted to know which questions struck hard, and then he would see how she answered those particular questions. It saddened him to think it, but there was a chance that even unwittingly, Lydia might be hiding information. It was a subject that was deeply troubling for the young woman, particularly in a strong religious community as theirs was.

"Remember, Lydia, this is going to help you. It may be hard, and maybe even painful at times, but in the long run, it will be for your good."