Once up there, before we even unpacked, Fr. Joe told me to sit in oneof the rustic wooden chairs on the porch. He sat beside me on another, andasked t... hear my confession. As I confessed my various sins, I could see Fr.Joe's eyes narrow behind his bifocals as he glowered at me, and I could alsosee a growing bulge behind the fly of his black clerical trousers. When Ihave finished, Fr. Joe sighs and glowers at me, like a stern dad about topunish his delinquent son. Fr. Joe tells me I must be. “Are you ... a slut, Pen?” He slapped her again, and enjoyed the red handprint on her pale butt.“Ugh ... ugh ... ugh ... I didn’t think so ... until you ... showed me your cock, Danny.” She moved her hands in the air, unsure where to put them. Eventually she gave up, and just held her hands out above her shoulders, her fingers making odd gestures, her ring bright and obvious on her left hand. “But now ... I’ll be your slut, Danny. I’m a slut ... only ... uh ... uh ... uh ... for you.”“Really?”. More

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