The 7

by Kerri Ann

  Motioning her forward, I watch her ass sway as she takes steps within the pew rows toward the confessional booth. My breathing is tight, my soul crushes, and my heart is racing at a beat I can’t time.

  Wandering into the booth, she closes herself in as I gather my resolve before walking to my side.

  Sitting down, the window is closed. As Scarlet opens it, the light streams in. It’s been some time since I’ve seen Scarlet this close, the brilliant light from the church sends light dancing across her legs.

  “Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned.” Her sultry voice bounces around my head and off the wooden cage that holds me in.

  “How may I help you, child.”

  “Father, I have impure thoughts about a man I cannot have.” I know she’s not married. Scarlet doesn’t have a man in her life, that I know for certain.

  “Tell me of your sin, child. Let me help you.”

  Letting out a haughty breath, Scarlet shifts slightly on her seat. “I had a dream the other night. The dream was so real that I woke up wet and aroused.”

  Licking my lips, I lean forward on the seat to get a better listen. “Continue. Let me see if I can help.”

  “Well, you see, I’m not sure I can tell you all of it, Father. It’s very in-depth.”

  Father, give me strength. Of course it is. “Please.” My mind is clouded over, thinking of nothing more than that one word.

  “So, in the dream, the man’s face is obscured. I know who it is, but the suspense of it makes the dream more intense. Lying there, spread out on the bed, he licked my most intimate parts as if he were a starved man. He told me that without it, he would perish, so I allowed him to continue. The heat kissed every nerve in my body as it tingled. My toes curled, my legs felt like rubber, and my heart beat to a tempo I’d never felt.”

  Sitting forward has become excruciating as I lean my balls against the back of the confessional chair. My cock strains against the cloth of my trousers, causing a tenting effect that I have no way of appeasing in this confined space.

  “Tell me more, child.” Saying “child” seems incorrect in this venue, but I continue with the pretense. I know it’s Scarlet, and that it’s the proper conversation as parishioner and priest.

  “Well, you see, he never spoke. But he directed me to his will with a force that I thought unattainable. Caressing my body, masterfully touching me in places that brought every sound I could muster out of me…I was enjoying it, though I knew it was wrong. I know that the act of intercourse with a man out of wedlock is forbidden and frowned upon.”

  Jesus in heaven, this woman tempts me. I’m not sure I can halt my hand from gaining purchase of my cock as she speaks. Pushing it low, the mere action causes me severe strain. Looking over, Scarlet’s hands are roaming across her ample chest, along her legs, and lifting her tight red dress high enough to see the edge of her haltered pantyhose. I shouldn’t look.

  Why does the devil tempt me so?

  “Continue, Scarlet.” My voice is low and strained as I contain my composure in this very heated situation. Any other woman, I’d not want the details of her rapture, but Scarlet, she is my Eve. Temptation and blaspheme all tied up in what I can never have—should never have.

  Pushing the edge of her tight dress higher, I see that she isn’t wearing any panties, showcasing her neatly trimmed sex. Glistening, her hands search between the folds as I watch like a dirty voyeur. How do I stop this? Can I stop this? The temptation is almost too much.

  She pants heavily. “Well, kissing me here gave me a rush like no other. I don’t know if the feeling is wrong, or if it’s a blessing from God that I was able to enjoy something so great alone. I was tempted.” Stroking herself, she pauses. “So tempted to call the man in question to alert him to the dream that rocked me so spiritually.”

  Rocking her finger back and forth, I unintentionally grip my cock in hand. Pulling it between my clothing, I feel the danger of what is happening here. It excites me more than the cutting has ever done. Unable to tear my eyes from her ministrations, I quickly undo the button on my pants. Reaching in, I grasp it as if it’s the asp in the story of Adam and Eve, torturing it with angry strokes.

  “Kyden, the man was you. It’s always been you, never anyone else in my dreams. Touching me, stroking me, wetting my appetite for more.” Stroking harder and harder, our movements become fast as she brings herself to the edge of ecstasy. “Father, forgive me, for I have sinned!” she yells out as I spill my seed across the floor of the confessional.

  Fuck. I’ve never felt such passion and release in the act of making myself come. Watching her come undone was erotic in more ways that I can ever name. Tonight, I’ll have to complete further penance than normal to override this tremendous sin.

  Straightening her outfit, I watch Scarlet become serene and poised once more. The pious beauty that I see sitting in the front pews weekly, taking the sacraments into her hot mouth, makes me wish it were my cock.

  Tucking my flaccid penis back into my pants, I do my best to calm my overheated blood. I can’t let the parishioners see me like this when I exit.

  “My child, I understand your dangerous position. A dream is only a dream. You cannot be held responsible for a machination of the mind. The devil works in mysterious ways, and I feel this was his way of gaining purchase into your mind, feeding you with a seed of deceit. Do not put too much thought into it. As penance, through your act of contrition, repeat after me, ‘My Holy Father, I in good faith will follow the path of your teachings, saying three hail Mary’s.’ You will try to get more sleep. The devil cannot enter your dreams when you are well-rested.”

  Saying as directed, Scarlet adds before leaving, “Thank you, Father. I will do as you’ve said.”

  As she rises from the chair and exits the confessional, I slump against the wall, releasing the pent-up breath I’ve been holding. Of all the women in all the gin joints, she had to walk into mine. Now I know why he stated such a line.

  The things I envy others for.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  ~

  THE REMAINDER OF MY WEEK has been uneventful. Scarlet didn’t return, and Bracken was away, giving me nothing further to ponder about. And the good Sisters had prepared a large dinner for our youth group meeting that went off without a hitch.

  Now that it’s Sunday, I’m truly looking forward to the act of following in the scriptures. The night after seeing Scarlet, I pushed on my cock so hard I tore it. The pain of my penance was justified. For allowing myself the satisfaction of the skin with another, I had betrayed my vow. I’ve never taken the vow of celibacy, but I’d always promised that love would be unattainable for one such as me. I was offended that I’d allowed such a movement, and had therefore allowed the devil purchase within my soul further. My right arm and legs have taken a beating with the punishments necessary to get over the dangers of the flesh. By Friday, feeling refreshed, appeased that my conscience was clean, I fell into the position of helping others with a fervor.

  The parish has been filling up quickly this morning. The average Sunday finds us half-filled on one side, and maybe only two or three rows on the other. This week is different. It gives me joy to know that my personal atonement may be part of the reason for such an act of attendance. I could be wrong, but it feels good to know they’re filling the pews for whatever reason.

  Standing at the front, greeting each parishioner as they enter, gives me a moment to connect with them before the mass. Yes, I will say goodbye to them as well, but this gives me a better gauge of those that require the confessional. So far, I’ve singled out three that couldn’t even look me in the eyes, so I’ll watch them throughout the full reading and sacraments.

  “Hello, Father. We’re very glad to join you today.”

  I grin, glad that they’ve attended. “Welcome, Bracken.” Shaking his hand as I take in his malicious smile, I turn to the woman beside him. Her sallow cheeks and dark eyes, with thick makeup covering her bruises show the abuse she’s recently t
aken. Being on the receiving end of someone such as Bracken can’t be easy. “And who is this lovely woman on your arm?”

  Turning to her, Bracken replies, “This is my wife, Christy. Say hello to the good Father.”

  Keeping her gaze trained on the ground, she slowly raises her eyes to me. “It’s nice to meet you, Father. I’ve heard many lovely things about you.”

  “I’m sorry that we’ve never had a chance to meet before. How long have you been married?” Looking to Bracken for approval, she smiles, but it’s weak.

  “Just over a month, Father.”

  “Newly wedded it seems.” Giving her a slight smile, I look to Bracken. His evil glare hasn’t left hers the whole time we’ve stood here talking. He watches her like hawk watches its meal.

  “We are. Very happily, too.” Smiling up at Bracken, I can see the strain in her demeanor. Showcasing rotted teeth, I know the woman has had a hard life, which hasn’t been made any easier by marrying the likes of him.

  He nods his approval at her answer. “Good girl. How about you take a seat beside Fletch. I’ll be over after I have a conversation with Father Kyden.”

  Accepting her dismissal, walking off relieved, Christy wanders to the holy water font before sitting in the pew as directed.

  He speaks to me in a low tone. “We need to have a conversation later today, brother.” Tucking in close, as if he’s about to give me a hug, he says, “Don’t avoid me. It’s been a week and I’ve been patient.” Stepping back, the same sinister glower as before is there. The devil works its way into those that allow him entrance, and Bracken is a tool of his. With a wink, Bracken moves into my space. “I know she visited you. She won’t be absolved again, Father. Her next infraction will be her last.” Taking in his face, I see the man I once knew almost as well as myself. Dark scars run the length of his jaw, travelling the length of the right side of his face, reminding me of life in that society. The reinforcement of their rules are absolute.

  Smiling as sweetly as possible—as there are more eyes than his watching—I appreciate the connotation of harm that he speaks of. “Thank you, son. I will keep that in mind for future endeavors. Blessed be those who follow the path of righteousness.”

  “Blessed is the arrow that strikes true.” Speaking his club motto, he steps away, leaving me with a need to atone again, now more than ever.

  Greeting more of the congregation as they enter the hallowed halls, I push his warnings to the back of my mind. Allowing the last of them to say their good mornings to me, I finally traverse to the front for the Mass.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  ~

  AFTER THANKING THE LORD FOR his guidance in today’s Mass, and after all the refreshed and repented parishioners have left, I still have so much more to do. Namely, swimming through all the lost souls waiting their turn for the confessional.

  Feeling the weight of this past week, and seeing Scarlet sitting in the front like she always does, but in a new light, I feel my soul is tainted. I’ve seen more of her than I should. Only her God or husband-to-be should see what I now have. Yes, I’m the divining rod to the Lord in this house of worship, but it was not something of mine. It was a just trial. I passed through the test, only barely.

  As the first person enters the confessional, I walk over. He’s not a member of our usual congregation, but I did notice him at the beginning of the day. The rest of the penitents are giving privacy by staying in areas closer to the front, away from where the absolutions are considered. Touching the edge of a scar, just by my wrist, I say a silent prayer to give me strength of will through all of it.

  Acknowledging them as I pass by, I tuck the front of my cassock low to hide my marks. These are my penance, and no one but God’s to know of.

  Stepping in, I settle on the bench and slide the window screen back. “Hello, my child.”

  “Hello, Father. Forgive me for my sins. This week has been especially difficult, and I’m afraid my penance will be great,” the man on the other side of the screen states.

  “Tell me, son, and I will let God be the judge of your absolution.”

  “Well, Father, I…I coveted another woman.”

  “In what way did this occur?”

  “You see, Father, my wife and I have been married for five glorious years, and in that time, we’ve tried everything in our power to become parents. Not one of the trials, tests, or products have been able to assist in our attempt to nurture a child of our own.”

  “Have you thought of adoption?”

  “We have, Father, but it’s something that we felt was our last resort. Why would God not grant it to us? We have always been devout children in the house of God.”

  “Perhaps it is God’s will that you assist a child to be with a family that was not intended originally for them. Show them the love you would for any child.” Pausing, I hear him sobbing softly. “This sin you speak of, it has been a heavy burden to bear, has it not? Tell me of the sin.”

  I’d always felt that Scarlet would make a fantastic mother. She’s kind, soulful, devout to our God, and would be understanding of the needs I have. But I’ve never considered it mine to own. God’s will has kept me on this path.

  The discomfort in my cock increases as I think of Scarlet in a way that is not mine. As the scabs pull at the skin, reminding me that she’s not something for me to covet, I continue with the penitent. “Continue, son. I can’t ask for your forgiveness and allow your absolution without knowing the sin you speak of.”

  “There’s a woman in our bible study group that has plagued my dreams. Her milky soft skin, her caramel eyes, beautiful hair that is perfection. She makes me want her. I’ve had impure dreams that continued on to my waking hours. My thoughts and dreams are plagued, Father. I haven’t touched my wife in weeks. Help me, please. Help me find serenity.”

  His mind is fouled and his soul is as tainted as mine. This will require a sacrifice of the soul to expunge the devil. Do I feel for him? Yes. Do I wish that a family of my own were in the cards? Yes. I wish to undo the past and to correct my previous flaws.

  Scratching open the scars, feeling the skin burn, I remind myself that it is a sin to covet that which is unattainable. “You need to attend your wife. Take her to dinner, make her dinner, or simply invite her to coffee. Talk. Find a common ground where you can speak of the ideas that plague your heart. Repel the devil that is staining your marriage.”

  “Yes, Father.”

  “Yes, a family is important, but you did not in your vows of marriage promise to give her children, nor did she promise that to you. It was a promise to love in sickness and in health. This is a sickness that you need to overcome. Repeat after me, son, ‘I will work on my marriage, giving my wife the due she is deserving of.’ Say three Hail Mary’s for three days, and work on loving your wife. As well, I would suggest you find a way to avoid the bible group for a while. Just until you can feel secure in the denial of her flesh.”

  Wiping away the tears from his face, he repeats the line I requested before saying, “Thank you, Father, for your guidance and support. God has selected a correct guide to help his lost and wandering souls.” Rising from the booth, he leaves. I feel satisfied in the outcome for the man. Hopefully, when he returns to us next week, he will feel better in his marriage and his relationship with God. He’s been selected for trials that are difficult for many.

  As a new parishioner steps in, I see it is a woman. “Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned. This week marks the fifth week since my last confession and I’m in need of your guidance.”

  “Tell me, my child.”

  As she goes through the list of her extensive sins, I catalogue and give directions for her penance according to each sin. They’re as most of our locals, that of debauchery, willful harm of another, theft, and jealousy. After she has left, I too feel jealous for the lives they lead. Each are wandering through life with disregard for those they harm. They pause by their rectory, as if we’re a Starbucks drive-thru for their sins to be clear
ed away, only to begin anew. We’re the entrance to hell now. All the dangerous and foul creatures that enter my confessional I feel for, but at the same time, I believe that truly none feel penitent.

  As the last is cared for, I return to my residence to accept and absolve myself of the sins that have plagued my own soul today. Setting it all out as neatly as the last day, I prepare my meal, my station in front of the dying fire, and ask God for forgiveness. “Today was difficult, Father. Why do you torture me with souls that I cannot look to save? They are not redeemable. Their souls are tainted from years of fake absolutions and it tires me. Please, free me from this.” Cutting a deep line along my forearm, I feel the rush of the blade as it peels raw skin. Dripping to the deeply stained, yet cleansed towel, my soul feels no lighter.

  “Has it not been enough?” After the raw beating that I gave my member the past Tuesday, I have yet to touch it in a releasing way. I’ve felt the acceptance from the blood leeching out, and that nothing more was required. Why tonight does he feel more is needed? “Perhaps, Father, I had coveted jealousy in my heart. Was wishing for a family of my own wrong?” I feel the rush of my savior accepting my further need for penitence and understand. “Yes, I understand, Father.”

  Unclasping my pants, feeling the tight skin that is aching to be left alone, I understand my wants are not my own. For true absolution, I must do as requested. Stroking it slowly at first, pushing past the pain, it grows engorged. A deep relief is felt within me, but it’s not enough, not yet. That I know. Gathering up one of the serrated blades, pushing my trousers to the floor, I drag the edge along the inseam of my leg. Matching one’s previously, the jagged line seeps ichor. Groaning out at the release, tightening my grip, I think of Scarlet. She would be proud of me for finding a way to expel the demons that taint my soul, that make me a darkened soul in the army of the devil.

  Pushing and pulling harder and harder, I cut another, then another, before finally releasing into the soot. I growl out, feeling absolved of my past transgressions.