My Convent School Story (1928) Pt. 1

I was recently in England and walked past a school for girls. This story came to me and made me so wet. I am writing in a historical voice here.

What I am about to relay to you took place in my twelfth year when I was sent away to convent school:

Before Mass today I went to the confessional. In truth, I had to wonder what could I have to confess; there is so little opportunity for sin. I entered the confessional, crossed myself and began to speak. Before I had even finished asking the father to bless me, and stated how long it had been since my last confession, the priest whispered to me through the grille.

“What is it that you have to confess to me? Have you had licentious thoughts?” I was taken aback, and stammered that I had not, but he only murmured that he doubted the truth of that statement. I recalled the book in my father’s study, and I began to tell him about it.

“How did it make you feel?” he asked, “ Did it make your little cunt wet and hot and hungry for a man? I think it did, you little whore.”

For a moment I could not speak. I had never heard a priest speak so. I looked through the grille at the older man whose pale eyes burned in the gloom of the confessional. I could hear the rustle of his vestments as he leaned forward to speak further. “You must tell me, if you do not, how can you truly be confessed?”

I leaned forward and whispered back to him. “Yes, father I have had licentious thoughts, which were stirred into full flower by the book I found in my father’s study.”

I could hear him breathing, “Go on,” he said firmly.

“Father the first illustration I saw in the book was of a man partially clothed, shown in profile, his how shall I say it…”

“His cock, call it a cock…” the priest insisted.

“His…cock enormously engorged and erect while he faced a woman wearing only an elaborate headdress of pearls, her sloe eyes limned with kohl, with her hand guiding it, ur, his cock to her…” I hesitated and the priest responded.

“Cunt, you very well know what it is called, you hellish little wench.” His breathing was heavy now.

“Yes, Father, she was guiding his cock into her cunt. Her legs were opened wide to receive it, the both of them were smiling. The words on the opposite page described how when a man entered a woman he wanted to do so slowly, letting her feel the length of him as he penetrated into her, and how she should tighten the..uh cunt muscles around his cock so as to give them both greater pleasure when he began to stir himself within her.

Father, this passage did not horrify me, it only made me curious, that it created in me an unknown longing, a dark, juicy heat that pulsed between my young thighs. I think of this often Father, I ask for forgiveness now.”

“Did you fulfill it, that lust? What did you do?” he inquired. I could hear the sound of flesh touching flesh behind the grille. Peering through it I could see that he had drawn his cassock up over his hairy thighs. At the juncture between his legs his erect penis rose like a mast, his hand wrapped around the base of it, gliding up its length, over the tip then back down. I could see the vein that ran along it pulsing, the flesh deepening in color.

I felt an answering pulse in my own body, the thick honey-like moisture dampening my pantalets, slicking my upper thighs. I shifted my skirts to move the fabric away from between my legs, and began to press my thighs close together, twitching my hips to stimulate that little nodule of flesh that seemed to ache and pulse with its own life as I recounted my sins.

“Oh father, just then in my father’s study, I did nothing. But Father I did sin, that night in my bed I imagined it, the feeling of a man’s body over mine, the weight of him pressing against me, my legs opening to receive his hard cock. Feel its full length thrust into me. At firsts father I was not sure how to fulfill this burning, but the book described a woman’s organs, how she has a little kernel of flesh, a “clit” the book called it that when pressed or stroked would give her release and rapture. Oh Father that night I explored my body in the in my bed and with trembling fevered hands I found this spot.

“Show me what you did, you little slut! I must know the depth of your depravity before you can be shriven,” he said. I watched his hand begin to move faster, his other hand moving below, manipulating the heavy mass of his testicles, stroking the insides of his thighs.

“Can you see me, father?” I asked as I lifted my petticoats above my hips. I spread my thin legs wider to let him see me through the open seam of my pantalets, the heavy garters holding up the black woolen stockings that we all had to wear. I spread the cotton fabric wide, showing him the soft, hairless lips of my cunt, stroking it softly, letting him see the beads of moisture dampening it.

“Oh I can see you, your young wet cunt, and how a little slut like you gives pleasure to herself. ” he said his voice hoarse.

“Do you like what you see oh Father…” I parted the lips of my cunt and hissed, “The book called this the gate of heaven.”

He groaned a resonant yes, as I spread my nether lips wider to show him the passage into my body, the gates of paradise. I began to stroke the clit, feeling the subtle thrilling waves of pleasure building, widening to take in my whole body. Bracing one foot against the wall by the grille I continued to touch my own body, gasping for breath, my lungs fighting against the whalebone stays encircling my ribs as I watched the priest’s hands move more rapidly, jerkily, until a cascade of cloudy fluid spilled forth like a volcano. Behind the first eruption, there was a second as I saw his wide eyes stare directly at my cunt. The creamy fluid ran over his fingertips as he began to groan in time to his motions, my own eyes rolling back in rapture as the annunciation filled me, bursting through me, radiating outward from my center as my cum rolled forth all over my the bench and floor.

Panting, the priest told opened the grill and thrust his cum covered fingers forward. “Taste your Father and receive absolution my child.”

I leaned forward fluid still leaking from my little pussy and licked at the thick cream, which tasted of froth and salty, I sucked the priests fingers into my mouth and licked them clean

He closed the grille and said I was to say ten Hail Mary’s and that I was absolved, and to go forth and sin no more. I crossed myself with my dampened fingers, then rearranged my skirts, and left the small, quiet booth and walked out into the pews.

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