“Bless me, Father, for I have sinned. It has been 30 days since my last confession.”

 

“Yes, my Child. Go on.”

 

“I accuse myself of the following sins: I took the largest piece of cake when there were only two pieces left, and I knew my sister, Marie, wanted it.”

 

“I see. What kind of cake was it?”

 

“Double Fudge Chocolate Layer.”

 

“Completely understandable. Go on.”

 

“I took the Lord’s name in vain once.”

 

“Alright. Anything else?”

 

“Well . . . I was tempted by impure thoughts and . . . may have acted on them.”

 

“Hold up. What do you mean you may have acted on them? Did you or did you not?”

 

“I don’t know. I mean, I’m not sure I did it right, Father.”

 

“By ‘right’ you mean pleasuring yourself?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“And why do you think you did it wrong?”

 

“I don’t think I did it to . . . completion.”

 

“I see.”

 

“So, I’m not really sure if I actually committed the sin, you know?”

 

“Hmm. Well. I’ll need to know more. You know, in order to determine if an actual sin has been committed. Please tell me what you did.”

 

“I laid on the bed and pushed the skirt of my school uniform up.”

 

“Ok. That’s not sin. As long as you were alone, of course. Did you remove your panties?”

 

“Yes, Father.”

 

“Oh. I see. Then what did you do?”

 

“I touched myself.”

 

“Where?”

 

“Down . . . there.”

 

“My Child, exactly where did you touch yourself down there? Your leg? Your knee?”

 

“Ugh! No! I touched it, Father! IT!”

 

“Are you saying you stuck your fingers in the Devil’s Mouth?”

 

“Huh? Is that what you call it? I’ve never heard it called that before.”

 

“God calls it the Devil’s Mouth because that’s where evil is fed. Now I’ll ask you again, Child. Did you stick your finger in the Devil’s mouth?”

 

“Um. Sort of. But nothing happened.”

 

“What did you want to happen?”

 

“I don’t know. Something? Anything? It’s just that sometimes, I feel like I need something. But I don’t know what it is. Gawd! I feel so stupid! I can’t believe I’m having this conversation with my priest!”

 

“Child, this is EXACTLY the conversation you should be having with your priest. That hunger is the Devil telling you he wants to be fed. Now listen. I’m going to tell you what to do. The only reason I’m going to tell you is so we’ll be able to tell in the future if you have sinned. Does that make sense to you?”

 

“I guess so. If you say so, Father.”

 

“I say so. Now take your panties off, prop your legs up on the confessional wall, and spread them nice and wide for Father.”

 

”Ok. They’re spread.”

 

“Reach your hand down and slide your fingers over the Devil’s lips. You’ll know you found them because they feel just like the ones on your face. Soft and wet.”

 

“I’m touching them. But they’re much bigger than the ones on my face.”

 

“Oh really? Are they very wet?”

 

“They’re starting to get a little wet. The more I touch them, the wetter they get.”

 

“Good. Get them nice and wet, so I can hear them. With your other finger, touch the Devil’s tongue.”

 

“I have a TONGUE down there?!?”

 

“Ha! Sort of. It’s called a tongue because it sticks out a little. But it’s smaller.”

 

“I think I found it. Is it at the top?”

 

“Yes. Good slut. Now I want you to rub it. Can you do that for me?”

 

“Yes, Father.”

 

“How does it feel when you rub it?”

 

”Funny.”

 

“It’s supposed to. The Devil loves having his little tongue rubbed. You’ll know because it will get harder and bigger and start to throb. Keep rubbing it until it does that.”

 

“Oh yes. It feels reaaaaally good when I do that. Especially when I go fast.”

 

“Go as fast as you can. I want it nice and wet, so I can hear it. Now, I want you to keep rubbing it, but with your other hand, I want you to stick your finger in the Devil’s mouth.”

 

“Mmmm. Feels gushy. And nice and warm.”

 

“Mmmm. I’ll bet. And tight. Start moving your finger in and out. The faster you do it, the better it will feel. Does that feel good?”

 

“Yes. But it feels like it needs . . . more.”

 

“That’s because the Devil is hungry and wants to gobble more of your fingers. Give him more. See how many you can fit in his mouth.”

 

“I can only fit three. It hurts though! But in good sort of way, you know? Like I can’t stop doing it even though it hurts.”

 

“Yes. I know. That’s your innocent body adjusting to sin. But keep going. Is the Devil’s saliva running out of you yet?”

 

“A little, yes . . . oh God, Father. It feels so good. Especially on that hard, pointy, little tongue. It’s throbbing just like you said it would. Like it’s going to burst.”

 

“You’re feeding him good, Child. Move your finger in and out as fast and hard as you can. Don’t stop rubbing his dirty, little tongue. You’re getting close. I can tell by your breathing and all those lovely wet sounds you’re making.”

 

“Oh-mi-God-Oh-mi-God-Oh-mi-God, Father. Yes! OhMaryMotherofJesus, something’s happening down there! Something’s happening, Father! What’s happening?”

 

“Child! Stop! I know the strength the Devil has when he holds you in his throes, but the only way to repent this sin is to pray the Rosary while you are committing it. Do you understand me, Child? Take your fingers out of the Devil’s mouth right now!”

 

“But, Father, How am I going to know if I’m sinning if I don’t finish?”

 

“We’ll get to that. Are you holding your Rosary?”

 

“Yes, Father.”

 

“Keep your legs open and place the beads between the Devil’s lips, so the top three beads lay across his tongue. Then I want you to slide them up and down over that wet, slippery mouth and lips. Especially over the tongue. And while you do it, I want you to recite the Holy Mary. But do NOT stop sliding the beads between your legs. Do you understand me?”

 

“Yes, Father.”

 

“Ok. Let us pray.”

 

“Holy Mary, help the helpless, strengthen the fearful, comfort the . . . Oh-God!”

 

“Keep praying! Don’t give into the temptation yet. Are you still sliding the beads through that sloshy, liitle cunt?

 

“Yes. Especially over his bumpy tongue. Oh! Comfort the . . . sorrowful . . . pray for the . . . people . . . PLEAD for the CLERGY! Oooooh . . . Father . . . I'm moving them really fast now. It feels good . . . it feels too good . . ."

 

“Feed the Devil. Feed him good, Whore. Keep praying and fucking those wet beads with your dirty little snatch.”

 

“Intercede-for-all-women-consecrated-to-God-oh-God-oh-God! Yes! YES!”

 

“Oh yes! Praise the Lord! Repent! FUCK and repent your sins, you filthy whore!”

 

“Oh Father. Wow. That was amazing. Thank you. I definitely wasn’t sinning the right way before.”

 

“Yes. You gave an amazing confessional. You did well. But . . . you are not to wait a month between confessions anymore. I expect you in EVERY Monday after school. Is that understood?”

 

“Yes, Father.”

 

“You may now go in peace, Child.”