Father Murphy Hears Cathleen's Confession
Patrick Joseph Murphy was the son of Patrick Xavier Murphy. The line of eldest son Murphy's extended way back long before anyone living could possibly remember. The most current Murphy discovered early in life that he was destined to be a priest and represent the family honor behind the walls of the church.
Actually, it was his mother who informed him of his decision to take up the cloth.
She had already decided the younger son Donald would be the one to carry on the Murphy line even if his name wasn't Patrick. She suspected that her eldest child's hooked nose looked suspiciously like that of the Jewish butcher Aaron Goldman. Her memory, if it served her correctly, informed her that she had been a bit loose with her Mary Jane in the butcher shop in order to get the very best cuts of mutton.
He wasn't too put out by the thought he would be precluded from sampling the feminine goodies of the local girls of his acquaintance in school and in the village because in all honesty, they were a vicious lot.
Patrick was the best new recruit the seminary had the good fortune to process in many a year. He absorbed his Latin lessons so quickly that the tutor was pushed to devise new hurdles for him to climb. Finally, he gave up and admitted young Patrick spoke Latin better than he.
His younger sister, Maureen laughed at the thought of her shy brother in the garb of a man of God. She had convinced her mother that the convent was definitely not for her, leading her parents to shift their attentions to poor Patrick as the family representative in the ranks of the clergy. The only other Murphy who had joined the religious ministry in recent generations was great aunt Agnes, whose countenance was reputed to be better hidden by a concealing shroud of cloistered life in order to deter little children from being frightened.
Patrick was a very good priest and was most circumspect with regard to his physical needs never causing any cause for concern in his interaction with either gender.
However, his single fault was a predilection to extract the juiciest of details from female parishioners whilst relating their peccadillos and weaknesses of the flesh inside the confessional booth. His own weakness was the urge to engage in self-satisfaction as his ears absorbed the titillating details from the pretty faces on the other side of the screen. He saw it all as a harmless little hobby to dispel the boredom of monotony and repetitive transgressions.
Some of the more rambunctious females scrambled to get Father Murphy as their confessor because he never failed to draw every last sordid detail from their guilty minds. He gave them an interrogation so complete that they were drained of their hidden lust and often experienced shameful orgasms on their knees just thinking about their depraved actions. The more perverted their activity, the less severe he made their penance in compensation for his own addicted and perverted sins.
One of the prettiest girls in the parish was young Cathleen Cavanaugh. She was the apple of her father's eye and probably the last virgin in her age group at the Catholic Youth Organization. In all truth, Cathleen was very scientific minded since she was a fledgling nurse, but she was hopelessly ignorant of the ways of men and all the tricks they employ to get girls to spread their pretty legs.
She knew what men's cocks looked like. She had washed them and massaged them as instructed by her teachers. She also knew where they were supposed to go. She knew all the best positions to get it in deeper and stand the best chance for impregnation, but she had never experienced the coupling process with a real live cock attached to a real live man. Cathleen figured it was best left to her future husband to decide when she was to take it all inside her tight little Mary Jane.
Cathleen had usually been confessed by old Father Shea ever since she could remember and he always gave her one "Our Father" and three "Hail Mary's" no matter what she said she did. Sometimes, she even embellished her faults just to get the old man's interest but he never once changed his reaction.
Her first confession with Father Murphy was decidedly different.
"Bless me Father, for I have sinned. It has been only one week since my last confession."
"Go ahead, young lady, be sure to tell me everything. Remember, hiding anything is a sin itself!"
"I told a lie to my ma about not eating the meat pie. I made fun of my brother five times. Oh! I almost forgot, I had a dirty thought about a boy's thing getting big right in a dream."
"Come child, have you not touched "the thing" or even taken it into your mouth or one of your private openings?"
"No, Father, such a thought. I could never do something dirty like that."
"Are you saying you are a virgin, girl?"
"Yes, Father, I am still pure even if I have touched myself from time to time."
"Where exactly did you touch yourself, dear?"
"I am ashamed to admit I played with my nipples lots of time just to feel them get nice and hard."
"Is that the only place you touched, girl?"
"I am so sorry, Father, I use my da's cigar case to play with my woman's slit and sometimes I even push it up my naughty bum."
"When is the last time you put it into your bottom, young lady?"
"About three weeks ago, Father, but I did tell Father Shea. I am afraid he really didn't understand or didn't hear what I was saying because he only gave me the same penance."
"Ahh! How deee ... ahh! How deep did you shove it up, girl?"
"All the way as far as I could, Father. I had to leave a little bit out so I could pull it back out again."
"Does that make you wet, girl?"
"Yes, Father, it does make me wet. In fact, I am getting wet right now just thinking about it. Am I sinning now, Father? Please forgive me if I am sinning because I can't stop it right at the moment. I am so sorry. I can't stop. Oww ... Ughh!"
"Go in peace, child. Say 10 "Our Father's" and 10 "Hail Mary's" and when you go to bed tonight I want you try not to use the cigar case."
"I will try, Father, but it is so hard."
"I want you to bring in your panties worn the entire week next time. I will inspect them for your sinfulness. Don't try and fool me with clean ones. We will get you broken of this naughty behavior and on the road to full redemption very quickly."
"Yes, Father, I will put them in a box so nobody can see them. Thank you."
The very next week, Cathleen waited impatiently for her turn in the confessional. She had the box filled with her scanties and slipped them into the confessor's booth just before falling to her knees.
Father Murphy was instantly brought to an erect state of physical attention by the heavily scented undies emitting not only the sensual scent of female parts but also the raw odor of frenzied sex and erotic desire. This was not the weekly dirty washing of an innocent parish girl claiming to be a virgin.
"Get right to it, girl. Tell me all the sordid details of your transgressions against the flesh. How many times did you do it? Where did you take it inside? How deep did you let him go? Did you spray your feminine favors in every direction? Did your legs quake? Did you groan with perverted pleasure? You must tell me all if you want to be truly forgiven."
Cathleen was rubbing her pubic mound against the hard wood of the booth. She pushed her hand into her bottom and felt the tightness of her pucker hole. With her other hand, she flicked her nipples with each and every exciting question.