Chapter 7: Building Eileen's Self-Esteem

Eileen Carter was depressed. Sad and depressed. What was wrong with her? She couldn't stop eating and there was another hunger that the fat, fourteen year old girl couldn't assuage with food. And now her mother was angry with her. 'It's a sin!' she'd yelled after she caught Eileen masturbating. 'You're sick! You're fat and lazy and now you're a sinner, too." Eileen didn't know what to do or who to turn to.

Her mother had been right about one thing. Eileen was fat. Obese. She couldn't stand to look at herself in the mirror she was so fat. And she didn't have any friends, nobody she could talk to about her problems. If only she was prettier and smarter and a more worthwhile person. Maybe then she wouldn't eat all the time and every night put her hand down between her legs. After her mother caught her doing it and told her it was a sin, she'd tried to stop. She'd really tried, but every night she ended up promising herself that she'd stop tomorrow. And that was as effective as her promises to go on a diet tomorrow.

Today in church she'd watched and listened to Reverend Gibson. He was such a good man, big and handsome and he knew so much about what God wanted, expected from people. Maybe Reverend Gibson could help her?

With one hand Eileen squeezed her soft breasts and rubbed her hard nipples. Her other had was down between her legs and, although they were spread wide, the fleshy, fat thighs still touched. She felt the familiar warmth growing as hot tingles radiated out from her bulging vulva and her hard nipples to coalesce, like coals in a furnace, in her rotund belly. Was this really a sin? Did God care?

After the fire had abated, after that moment of sinful bliss, Eileen resolved that she'd go to Reverend Gibson tomorrow. Right after school. He could help her, she was sure. He could tell her if she was sinning and, if she was, he could help her to stop.

Joan was upset, upset and angry. When she'd met Tom in the hallway he'd greeted her with a friendly smile, "Good morning, Mrs. Barnes." But she saw reflected in the parabolic mirror above her the way he grinned at the boy with him and nudged him with his elbow. The little bastard had told. He'd told the boy with him that they'd had sex. Oh God. If word got out she'd be in trouble. Why couldn't the little bastard keep his mouth shut? Maybe he'd have got some more if he had.

Joan couldn't hear what Tom was saying but it would have confirmed her suspicion. "Honest, Ken. She was like a vacuum cleaner. I bet Sally never sucked cock like Mrs. Barnes does. And I didn't have to wear a safe or nothin'. She asked me to fuck her and she let me cum in her mouth."

Mrs. Barnes didn't hear the description of her performance but Eileen did. She was walking behind the boys and, after what she heard; she turned to look back at the teacher. He must be lying. Mrs. Barnes always goes to church and she's married and she's too old for Tom. He must be lying, mustn't he? Did women... girls really suck guys' cocks? She shuddered with revulsion at the thought.

Bill Gibson studied his photo collection, especially the picture of Joan Barnes. Great tits and a 7.5 on his fuck-scale. Only virgins rated higher than 8 and, since he'd been scared away from the young teens, 8 was as high as Joan could have scored. The Carter woman was his last 8 and she had been a surprise. A lot of pent-up desires in that one. She said she'd never cheated or sucked cock before and Bill believed her.

Damn, he said to himself when he heard a faint knock on the door. Usually on Monday he had his office to himself. People didn't seem to need extra counseling or whatever on that day. Maybe his sermons did some good?

"Come in. The door is unlocked."

What was she going to say to him? How could she ask? Eileen opened the door timidly and entered the parson's office. "Uh, Reverend Gibson, sir, I'm sorry to bother you," she stammered, looking around the office. It wasn't a large room and it was crowded with furniture. There was a plain, straight chair in front of the solid looking, wooden desk, a sturdy, wood rocking chair to the left of the desk and to the right, against the wall, was a futon. His cherry-picking platforms, the minister called then in his lewder moments since he'd plucked at least one cherry on each of the furniture items.

"That's all right, Eileen. That's why I'm here. How can I help you, my dear?" My, she was a pretty girl, the Reverend thought as he motioned her to sit in the straight chair. Eileen had a round face, big eyes and a small, pouty, full-lipped mouth...

"Uh, Reverend Gibson, sir... it's... like... it makes me embarrassed?" Eileen blushed and stammered and tried to figure out what she was going to ask him. She couldn't just blurt out her question, 'is masturbating a sin, could she?

"There's no need to be embarrassed, my dear. God has sent you here for guidance from me so just go ahead and tell me what's bothering you."

"Well... nobody likes me, Reverend Gibson. Because I'm so fat and ugly and not very smart and all that... and I get lonesome. And I sin." There. She'd said it. Well, almost.

"Don't talk like that, Eileen. You're a beautiful girl. And you're very intelligent, too. I've heard about what a good teacher you are in Sunday school." She'd be a heartbreaker if she took off some weight. She's really pretty. I wonder if she has any of her mother's fire?

"But Sir? They make fun of me and call me names and stuff? They don't like me. I know they don't."

"I'm sure that they like you... most of them. And I understand why you might be mad at them, but that's not a sin."

"No... it's not that, Reverend. It's just... like... I do stuff... because they treat me that way. I do stuff that Mom says is a sin?"

"Come, Eileen. Let's sit over here and we can talk better." The minister moved over to the futon and Eileen followed him hesitantly. Just before sitting down, Bill opened the door and flipped the little sign from 'Reverend Gibson is IN' to Reverend Gibson is OUT', and then locked the door. He went also to his desk and activated the strategically placed camera to record what he hoped was about to happen.

This pretty although very fat, young girl was only fourteen years old and Bill had vowed to stay away from the young stuff. There were, however, mitigating circumstances in this case or, more accurately, the unprincipled preacher believed he could protect himself from exposure. It had been more than a year since he had last savoured the heavenly clasp of a young girl's vagina on his oversized member and it was even longer since he had enjoyed that special triumph that came from devirginating a girl. This one, he suspected, was both virgin and vulnerable.

"Now Eileen, tell me everything. I don't believe things are as bad as you think they are. I'm sure, no matter what you hear them say, that people, boys especially, see that you're very pretty and very nice."

"Oh Reverend Gibson. I'm not! Not pretty... like... you know that." But, despite her words, the girl felt a special warmth from the compliment and it made her like her minister even more.

"But you are pretty, my dear. Beautiful. You have lovely big eyes and your mouth is perfect." Perfect for cocksucking, he thought lecherously. "You really are lovely, Eileen."

"You're just saying that, Sir. And anyway, I'm too fat and I can't stop eating." Eileen already felt better about herself that she had for years. Even if he was just saying it to make her feel better, she liked hearing it.

"A lot of men... guys... like women who are full-bodied, Eileen. They won't think you're fat, just comfortable. I like girls who are your size. I think they are the only real women." At least this one didn't remind him of his slender daughter.

"Is that true? Really?" Eileen wanted very much to believe him.

"I wouldn't say it if it wasn't, my dear. There was a famous artist, Rubens, who painted only women with bodies like yours. His work was and is very popular because men like full-bodied women. You ought to feel better about yourself. God made you like you are so you're insulting Him when you feel the way you do." Fucking her would be like when he was a kid and made up pretend women from pillows. The more he thought about it, the hornier Bill became. "But no matter how you feel, Eileen, being full-bodied isn't a sin. I don't know what your mother was thinking?"

"Oh Sir! It wasn't that. It was... like... she caught me doing something." Eileen's cheeks reddened with embarrassment. Could she tell him?

"Oh? What were you doing, Eileen? Don't be embarrassed. If it's what I think it was, it wasn't a sin."

"But... Oh Sir? I was... I touched myself. You know? Down there?" The discomfited young girl indicated her lower body without actually pointing.

"That's perfectly normal, my dear. God expects you to do that so you can preserve your chastity." He had to be careful about what he said. He wanted to make her feel better about herself but not too much. Her low self-esteem increased her vulnerability to his lecherous goal and he wanted to preserve that advantage.

"But? Like? The Bible says that what Onan did was a sin?"

"Yes, Eileen. But Onan was a man... and he was married. What he did was a sin for a married man but it's not a sin for a woman."

"But... why?" Eileen wanted to believe her minister but what he was saying seemed somehow inconsistent.

"Do you know how babies are made, my dear?"

"Uh, yeah... Sorta?"

"Well, Eileen, a married man is supposed to place his seed in his wife's body, not on the ground. That was needed to ensure that Israel would grow. But for an unmarried man... or for a woman, married or unmarried, it's all right. Your eggs aren't lost when you relieve your urges so; back then when God made the rule, women doing what you do didn't hurt. It's normal and Holy."

Eileen felt better already. Her minister was telling her that what she did was normal. Did he really mean it that some men liked full-bodied women? She like the way he said full-bodied instead of fat.

"Perhaps it would help if you showed me what you do?"

"Oh Reverend Gibson? You mean? Oh, I couldn't?"

"That's all right, Eileen. It was just a thought. Sometimes it's better to be open about things... to know exactly how God would feel about what you're doing."

The pretty girl looked down at her lap, or at least at what she had for a lap which was mainly a roll of flesh, covered of course by her loose fitting sweater and kilt-style skirt. She jumped nervously when the minister placed a hand on her thigh.

"I do want to help you, Eileen." Bill's voice was cool and stern now. "But you will have to cooperate." He caressed her broad thigh outside the woolen kilt, wondering how far he was going to get with this girl.

"Oh yes, Reverend Gibson... I want your help... need it." Was he telling her that to cooperate she had to show him what she did? She looked up at him timidly. "Do I have to show you?"

"No, my dear." The minister's voice was softer and gentler now. "It's just that the more I know about your concerns, the better I can guide you in God's ways. But you don't have to?"

The naïve fourteen-year-old girl detected a note of uncertainty about her in her minister's voice and she asked timorously, "Will you turn off the light, Sir?"

Bill turned off the overhead light but left on the small desk lamp and, while he was doing this, Eileen unfastened the clasp of her kilt.

"You'll feel better, my dear... after you share what you do. Don't be shy or nervous. Remember, I'm your minister."

The man's voice was deep and soothing and Eileen, after opening the front of her kilt, lifted her big ass enough to pull down her panties. She was glad that she'd showered and changed clothes after school, before she came here. Could she ask him to turn off that other light?

Bill watched the girl shyly push her hand between her fat thighs and saw that she was having some difficulty. "Do you usually sit when you do this, Eileen?"

"Uh, no? I'm usually in bed?"

"Just a moment, my dear. Get up and we can make you more comfortable."

The young teen stood while her minister opened up the futon and then, guided by his gentle hands, she lay down on her back. No words were spoken as she spread her stout legs apart and placed her hand between them. She was acutely conscious of the man's hand on her naked thigh and, as her fingers probed between the soft, fleshy lips of her cunt, she wanted to feel his touch on her, too.