Rhyley sat in the pews that night and pondered about her future. She was to leave for Australia in three weeks to start univeristy and she still had no idea what she really wanted to do. She sighed deeply and dug at her cuticles. Perhaps that is the way it will always be.
She heard a noise and looked up quickly. She smiled kindly as Father Bailey made his way to the confessionals. She had always liked him. He was kind and genuine and always had an answer for her. She stared at him intensely, his red gold hair shimmering in the candlelights. He had a rosy touch to his cheeks that night and he seemed a bit out of sorts. Acutally, he seemed anxious and distracted everytime she came to confession.
He quietly took his place in the booth and she follwed soon after. As she settled, he cleared his throat and smiled.
"Good evening, my child. What is your confession?"
"Father, I haven't confessed for almost a month. I wish to tell you things that I have never told anyone else." Rhyley took a deep breath and began her story with her vacation with Uncle Dean.......
Father Bailey gasped and dropped his bible to the floor as she continued. She talked for three hours, giving him the most graphic picture of her misbehaviour.
"Father, I know what I have done is wrong, but I enjoyed it. What have I become?"
"Is the true?"
"Yes, Father! I have had sex with my blood and I loved it!" Her voice was becoming hysterical as she tried to release some of her guilt. "I wanted so much more! I am so terrible, but I can feel the desire building and I know that I will do it again!"
"Rhyley, please settle down."
"No one is here, Father to hear us. I must tell you everything, please!" Her voice became screeches and Father Bailey could no longer stand to hear it. He burst from his cubicle and tore her own open, grabbing her arm and pulling her to his office.
When he came through the door, he flung her to the couch and locked the door. He paced frantically, trying to bring words to the horror her felt for her. He was disgusted at himself at his arousal to her story. It was sickening to him, but it was so erotic. The thought of her laying under her uncle, kissing him, was too much. Her own father taking her before his own brother as he was restrained. How could this be? They were such good people, so honest and loving. What happened to them? What had they done to this lovely girl?
Rhyley noticed that he was hardening. She wasn't sure if it was over her or her story, but she liked the idea he was horny because of her. Her thoughts ran wild as she imagined all she wanted to do to him. On this couch, on his desk, on the altar.....the altar. She wanted to take him like he had never been taken before on the symbol of his faith. She wanted to stain the golden crucifixes white with the cream from their loins.
"Father, please, you must let me help you as you help me."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean," she put her hand to his crotch,"let me help you find the true meaning of God."
"This isn't God's way, my child." He pushed her hand away.
"This is my way, Father." She put her hands on his stiffening member and began a slow stroke that was making him sweat with the stress of resistance. She looked into his eyes as she felt him grow in her hand. His almost inaudible groan told her all she needed to know.
"This is what I need, Father. Let me repent in my own way. Take me, I need you to forgive me!" Her begging had him trembling with the terrifying thought that he was really going to fuck this girl in his own church.
"Give me strength." He looked at her and sighed. "I will forgive you. I will forgive you in the only way you know."
"Take me, Father. Fill me with your holy seed."
