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I was one of them.
Do you really believe that the current crisis in the
Catholic Church
resulting from the molestation of young boys by priests is a
new
phenomenon? Or do you think that it is a particular problem
only in
the
boys that have been touched, fondled and "used" by
the "fathers"
worldwide are far greater than is generally estimated. How
do I know?
Well, I was one of them. However, I was not going to talk or
complain
about it. No way was I going to report the priest who was
"playing"
with me. . I enjoyed
… no… loved it!!!! And how many boys, you think,
feel and felt the same way as I did?
I knew, of course, that what the priest did to (with) me was
to remain
between the two of us and was not to be discussed with
anybody else. I
never considered asking him to stop touching me nor did I
give him an
indication that I did not enjoy his attention. More likely,
the
contrary is true.
I must have been 14 or 15 years old. It started with
confession on a
Saturday morning. For you non-Catholics out there: A
confession is a
one on one session with a priest and a parishioner. The
priest will
listen to the sins that you have committed since your last
confession
and will then absolve (read, forgive) you for these sins.
The penance
given by the priest is usually a number of "Hail
Mary's"
"Father, bless and forgive me because I have
sinned" The words came
out routinely as did the list of sins that I tried to
remember that I
had committed. Of course I mentioned the number of fights
that I had
with my older brother and my younger sister. I had lied
about my
homework to my mom and had been brash with my dad, etc. etc.
Normally, Father Thom would be satisfied with my litany of
sins. He
would make the cross, bless me and send me on my way with a
"go my
son, and sin no more".
This time, however, he was silent. Although the confessional is not
completely dark, it has no lighting and is rather dim.
Nevertheless, I
noticed him staring intently at me. That was unusual for him
during
confession. He cleared his voice and asked me "Son, do
you ever have
improper thoughts?" His question took me totally by
surprise. "Eh….eh…
what do you mean Father" I asked after a moment.
"Well, do you ever
think about things or do you do things that you know are
sinful in the
eyes of the Lord?" His voice sounded calm and friendly.
He spoke very
slowly and soft. It almost appeared that he tried to
intimidate me
with his stare and voice. I was grateful that the
confessional was
semi-dark, as I knew that my face turned red and I started
to
perspire. How could he know that I masturbated at least two
and often
three times or more per day? He did not mention the word
masturbation
but I knew, intuitionally, that the reference was to my
frequent
self-pleasuring. Sometimes, I felt
guilty after I orgasmed in the bathroom, in bed or outside
when and
wherever I found some privacy. I would then resolve not to
touch
myself again. But that resolution was quickly forgotten the
very
moment that I had a hard-on again. And at that age,
hard-on's are V E
R Y frequent occurrences.
How could Father Thom know about this? Could you see this by
just
looking at me?
"Well son?" his voice was still friendly but the
firm tones made it
clear that he expected an answer from me.
"I have dreams sometimes, Father" I admitted with
a low voice.
"What kind of dreams my son" was the immediate
reaction from Father
Thom.
"Could you describe these dreams to me?" He asked.
I told Father Thom, as politely as I could that I would
prefer not to
discuss my dreams with him. Friendly, but even more firm
than before,
he explained to me that I was confessing to him and that he
wanted to
hear more details before he would be able to forgive me. Was
that
clear? Meekly, I
nodded my head indicating that I understood.
Just, when I was ready to tell Father Thom about my
"despicable" sins,
Father Thom spoke again. "My son, I have a better idea.
Why don't you
come and see me in the presbytery later today." (For
your
non-Catholics, these are the living quarters of the clergy).
To me,
that sounded like a wonderful suggestion. Any delay in my
present
predicament was welcome. I asked Father Thom what time would
be
convenient. "Well, how about three thirty this
afternoon?" he beamed.
All of a sudden, his voice retuned to the normal level that
I knew so
well. I told him that I would be there.
I went home, feeling very strange but not down or panicky. I
realized
that this afternoon he would ask me the same question again
and
wondered how I would answer?
My mother had left me a little note to tell me that the
family had
gone shopping but that they would be back for suppertime,
albeit late.
I had easily more than two hours to kill before seeing
Father Thom. I
went to my room and lied down on my bed trying to visualize
various
scenarios of the
upcoming conversation and what I would answer. I
must have dozed off for some ten or fifteen minutes. When I
opened my
eyes, my right hand had slid in my pants like it had a life
of its own
and was holding my very stiff dick. I hesitated for a few
moments but
I then decided that this could very well be the last time
that I would
jerk off. After my conversation with Father Thom I would
never be able
to do it again. So, I might as well do it one more time. I
quickly
undressed and ran to the bathroom to get some Kleenex tissue
and body
lotion. I had discovered that with some lotion, my finger
entered my
asshole very easily. This caused wonderful feelings to become
immensely intense and this had
very much increased the load that I spewed. In addition,
some lotion
in my hand strongly amplified the sensitivity of my dick
even with the
foreskin intact. My thumb and finger encircled the head
making slow up
and down movements while adding more lotion. Gradually, I inserted a
finger of my left hand in my hole. I closed my eyes and
enjoyed the
lovely horny feelings. Although I wanted it to last, my fist
started
pumping faster and faster until I felt an enormous orgasm
starting to
build up within me. With my breath irregular and heavy, I
groaned
while big blobs of juice covered my stomach and chest. I
even felt
some heavy drops hit my chin. After a few minutes, I
regained some of
the spent energy and I wiped myself clean. I visited the
bathroom. I
knew that after peeing, I would not leak anymore. That was a
trick
that I had learned from a friend of mine. I dressed and went
downstairs to watch TV until it was time to see Father Thom.
At exactly three thirty, I knocked on the door of Father
Thom's room.
He must have waited for me. Before I could knock a second
time, the
door swung open and Father Thom but a hand on my shoulder
and pulled
me in. " Sit down Son." he beamed with his usual
jovial sounding
voice. I knew the outlay of his room well. I had been an
altar boy for
a number of years and I had helped Father Thom with various
chores
such as stuffing envelopes, stenciling, etc. It was a
comfortable
suite with a sitting/dining area and a separate sleeping
room. Two
enormous armchairs and a couch separated by low salon tables
were
placed in front of a cozy fireplace. Father Tom pointed to
one of the
armchairs and told me to sit down. "How about a soda
son?" Without
waiting for my reply, he opened the little fridge and came
back with a
coke for me and a beer for himself. "Don't need a glass
eh, do you
son?" I thanked him politely and confirmed that I
preferred to drink
from the can.
He sat down in the chair opposite me. Was that my
imagination or were
these chairs closer to each other than I remembered?
Without wasting any time he started. "So lets go back
to our
conversation of this morning son." He leaned forward in
his chair with
his elbows on his knees. He had that same intent stare of
earlier in
the day.
"So you play with yourself" He calmly made the statement.
It was not
even a rhetoric question, the directness of it, took me
completely by
surprise.
"Well, eh, eh, …What do you mean?…How do you
know?"
I realized that my face turned red and I felt sweat forming
on my
forehead.
"Well, son " His voice sounded friendly but
insistent. "Do you?"
I wondered whether this was still part of the confession? I
could not
possibly lie to him.
"Yeh, I…
eh… yes, it has happened" I
answered, barely audible.
"Mmmm, I see….Often?, his voice was still friendly and
soft.
" I don't know, …. not sure…. I guess" I
stammered, still not looking
at him although I knew that he was staring intently at me.
"How… eh ,how do you know" I asked him.
He chuckled. "Son, after all the years that I have been
a priest,
there is not much that I don't know of what is going on in
the
community and with guys like you. But tell me son, when was
the last
time that you did it?"
That question came totally unexpected. My face must have
turned a
shade redder. I stalled for time. " You… eh you want to know, Father,
the last time that I…. eh.….
I mean that…I…..kind of… eh..I touched
myself?"
"Yes, son, when did you play with yourself the last
time" Although his
voice was still pleasant, I noticed certain impatience in the
way that
he posed the question.
I could not lie to him!!!
"About one hour and a half ago Father"
Without looking at him, I could tell from the way that he
was trying
to catch his breath that my answer shocked him. "Say
that again, son".
It took Father Thomas a few moments to recover from what he
just
heard.
"Where were you son?" he asked after a pause. His
voice was lower now
and his face moved closer to me. I told him that it happened
at home
in my bedroom. He wanted to know whether I was undressed.
Not wanted
to lie to him, I confirmed that I had been completely naked.
He paused
again as if he needed time to digest this latest
information.
I looked up and expected to see a very angry looking Father
Thomas. In
stead, I saw a face, looking intently at me with a pensive
stare as if
he were looking through me.
It took a few moments before he spoke again. " Son,
what you did, is a
sin in the eyes of the Lord and we should think of some
punishment for
you."
I kind of nodded my head as if I were in agreement with him.
He kept
on staring at me and then continued: " I want you to
show me exactly
how you committed this sin, my son."
I nodded my head again as if I understood of what he was
saying but I
had no idea of what he meant.
"And I want you to do it now!" He never took his eyes away from me.
"Sure Father but.. eh……" My questioning eyes must
have made it clear
that I did not understand what was expected from me next.
"Stand up, son and show me what you did"
I stood up and looked at him waiting for further
instructions.
"Well, what next? he asked
I assumed that he wanted me to show him how I jerked off.
So,
clumsily, I made some up and down movements with my fist, as
we would
do playfully among each other, in school.
"Eh…Eh son, that is not what I mean. I think you told
me that you were
naked"
"You want me to……..? I didn't have to finish the
sentence. He nodded
his head in clear confirmation.
My first reaction was of unbelief but then after a few
moments I
experienced a strange feeling of excitement. Yes…!!, I
didn't mind to
do this, as a matter of fact I wanted to do this. Nudity,
had always
appealed to me. I had
been aware of an exhibitionistic streak in me,
ever since I remember.
It did not take long for me to unzip my pants and to lower
them to my
ankles. Father Thom bent over and pulled off my shoes and
then helped
me to step out of my jeans.
"Your t-shirt, son" he held his hand up.
"And these too", he pointed to my briefs. Again,
he held me steady
while I stepped out of them.
Totally naked, I stood in front of Father Thom. True, I felt
a bit
awkward and a bit self-conscious, however, I was surprised
how
excited, relaxed and aroused I was about the my condition
and
situation. My dick was not hard but not completely flaccid
either. I
did not have to look at him to know that he was staring at
my staff.
Without saying a word, he pushed me softly towards the
chair, so that
I ended up in a halfway sitting position on the chair back.
Gently,
his two hands spread my legs far apart.
"Okay, that is nice son", his voice was low and
had a slight tremble,
"And then… what do you do then?"
I tried to simulate some stroking again without touching my
dick. A
groan of disapproval was the result. I closed my eyes, took
my shaft
in my hand and started a slow up and down movement. My
erection was
complete. All of
sudden, my hand was yanked away.
Startled, I opened my eyes. Was Father Thomas so disgusted
that he
could no longer watch? Hardly!!!! My hand was immediately
replaced
with his hand, which took over the soft stroking. Not only
that, his
other hand cupped my sensitive balls while one finger crept
from below
in my crack searching for my hole. Mesmerized, I watched
Father Thomas
caressing my dick. The feeling was sooooo much better, soooo
much more
intense than when I did it myself. I must have prayed that
this would
never end. Father Thomas took my dick in his fist and
gradually
increased the rhythm of his movements. His other hand and in
particular his finger remained active in tickling my
bumhole. Without
thinking, my hips started to make fuck movements. Soon, I
was fucking
Father Thomas' fist, which he now held stationary. I knew
that I was
getting close. And then……. He let go of my dick and fell
back in his
chair. I took my dick in my fist and started pumping again.
"Stop son" he said in a commandeering but friendly
tone. " Not yet".
Trying to control my heavy breathing, I must have looked
bewildered,
rejected and disappointed
"Sit down, son" I sat down. With his hands on my
knees he made sure
that my legs remained widespread.
Later, Father Thomas explained to me that he was afraid that
I would
have left after I would have cum and he wanted to enjoy my
presence a
bit more and for a bit longer. Little did he know that I had
no
interest in leaving, even had he let me cum more than once.
The moment
that I relaxed my legs, he indicated with his hand that he
wanted me
to keep them wide open, completely exposing my full
erection, oozing
plenty of pre-cum.
He then suggested something that really surprised me. He
wanted me to
show him how I peed. He proposed to use his empty coffee mug
for a
piss demonstration. I have already enough problems pissing,
when
somebody stands next to me in a public bathroom. Let alone
trying to
piss with an enormous hard-on and with somebody anxiously
watching and
waiting for action. After some 10 minutes and no results he
agreed
that we would try this again another time. As a matter of
fact, during
one of the subsequent visits, and there were many to come, I
was able
to perform. However, after this one time there were no more
repeat
performances as I made it clear that this was not my
"cup of tea"
Also, I was not too crazy about another game that Father
Thomas
invented as further punishment for my sins. He referred to
it as
"Vocabulary." The idea was to come up with as many
as possible
synonyms for "dirty" words, e.g. he would ask me
for different words
for penis or ass. For every word that he knew and I did not,
I had to
give him a kiss. In school, you learn a lot of
"dirty" words, or so I
thought. Father Thomas possessed a vocabulary, which was
truly
incredible. He knew words of which I had absolutely no clue.
And every
time that he had another word, and I was unable to match
him, he would
demand that I gave him a kiss. I am not a kisser. So
initially, I
tried to get away with an airy cheek-to-cheek touch but he
would
insist that maybe not a frenchy, I gave him a real kiss. He would
turn his head so that his lips came very close to mine.
Knowing my
reservations about this game, he would only propose to play
Vocabulary
when he would be in a particularly romantic mood.
My visits to the presbytery became fairly regular. The
minute I
entered his room, Father Thomas would make sure that I was
out of my
clothes in no time. He loved watching me walking around
naked or doing
odd jobs in the buff. Most of the time, he would be an
active
participant as I jerked off. He, however, strangely enough,
never
asked me to do something to him or touch him. (other than
kissing).
After approximately six months in this relationship, he was
transferred to another city.