Mrs. Johnson's Confession

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Mrs. Johnson feels guilty about giving Jason lessons.
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A_Satori
A_Satori
757 Followers

copyright ©2009 by A_Satori. All rights reserved.

[Author's note: This is a story based on the excellent series of stories by Charles Petersunn: Jasons and the Johnsons, Jason and Mrs. Johnson, and, Jason Comes to the Back Door. Since what follows is a sequel story, it's suggested that those three stories (at least Back Door) be read prior to reading the story below, which is "a" not "the" sequel to Jason Comes to the Back Door. This story should be viewed as a tangential or alternative sequel to Charles Petersunn's series, NOT the "official" continuation of his storyline. The only official/true sequel to the "Jason" series will be written and posted by Charles Petersunn, and I for one look forward to reading it in the future. My thanks to Charles Petersunn for consenting to the reprinting/revision of the last few paragraphs of Jason Comes to the Back Door.]

******************

She sat down with Bridget and began having a heart to heart, mother to daughter, even what one would call a woman to woman talk. Bridget's eyes grew wide as her mother calmly stated she was well aware that Bridget and especially Jason, were having the usual incessant desires most engaged couples had, to rush things and have sexual intercourse before their wedding night when Bridget would properly lose her virginity to the young man she loved.

Madeline took a deep breath, then resumed speaking, saying there was a simple solution to the irksome urges they were having. Bridget's eyes grew wider in surprise and then shock as her mother explained the benefits that oral and anal sex offered in relieving their healthy sexual passions yet would still allow Bridget to be a virgin the night of her nuptials.

Bridget's mouth was open and speechless, and then her eyes nearly popped out of their sockets as Madeline continued, reassuring her daughter by adding that if Bridget had any questions or uncertainties regarding these alternative sexual activities, she would be quite happy to instruct her, to even be there with her when she explored the pleasures of oral and anal with her future husband, literally lending a hand if need be.

Madeline Johnson bolted upright in bed. NO! She was terrified, her eyes wide, her heart racing, her breathing quick and shallow. Her sweat dampened flannel nightgown was clinging to her body. She blinked and glanced at Jim snoring. Wait... wait. It was a dream! She hadn't really told her beautiful Bridget to do back door and oral play with Jason! Her fear lessened for a moment, then instantly returned. She had told Jason he and Bridget might do it! OH NO!

She must have been crazed by the lusty pleasure Jason had given her to have suggested it to him! Her idea that she actually be there with them had been so titillating too, watching, maybe participating herself. How could she have even entertained such a thought?! She had lost sight of why she was seeing Jason! She was teaching him the ways of love for Bridget's happiness, not her own! And he shouldn't be with Bridget, not yet! If they started oral and anal, they wouldn't be able to stop themselves from doing it the regular way! And... and his instruction wasn't complete! He had much more to learn! She had to talk to Jason as soon as possible, tell him again to only kiss and hold hands with Bridget! Only that until their wedding night!

Madeline realized she had been bad, wicked, horribly sinful! Her own pleasure had made her lose sight of the good, responsible, and necessary lessons she was giving Jason. She was enjoying it too much! That was the sin, not the important lessons she was giving Jason. She wanted Bridget to be a thousand times happier in her future marital bed than she herself ever had been. That was why she was taking the time with Jason, and all of that was good, any loving mother would ensure her daughter's future happiness! She was just enjoying it too much, and getting too crazy sometimes, that's why she said something so insane to Jason! She had to tell him not to mention a word about oral or anal to Bridget! He needed to keep that nearly constant stiffy under control until their wedding night! She herself would continue taking care of it for him!

She looked at the clock. It wasn't yet 4AM. Jason was coming over in the morning to pick up Bridget to drive to the Templeton campus, they both had morning classes today. She'd get him aside and tell him not to suggest anything to Bridget! And then she'd have to figure out how to correct her sin and lack of self-discipline regarding the lessons she was giving Jason. She had been sinful enjoying it so much! The lessons should continue, those lessons were very necessary, she just needed to discipline herself not to lose sight of the reason for the lessons! That was why she had been feeling guilty about it lately! She had sinned by enjoying it so much! She blinked. Discipline. Sin. She blinked again. Discipline! That was the answer! She had to resume the lessons with a clean slate and a rededication to her goal-- Bridget's and Jason's happiness!

Madeline quietly slipped out of bed, put on her chenille robe, and went downstairs to the kitchen. She had heard things now and then over her life. She thought most if not all of what people had told her was true. They had all that rigmarole. All those silly costumes. It had to be true! She pulled out the big yellow pages for the city from a cabinet, and hurriedly opened it up to "Churches."

* * *

Madeline Johnson felt very odd being in the old, large, Catholic church. It was so different than her own church, so many statues, paintings, and plaques on the walls, very ornate and interesting, as if it were some spooky overly artistic version of a church. In fact with all the flickering flames of the votive candles, the icons, the statuary, the soft, dim, filtered light coming through the stain glass windows; it was what she would have thought the den of Lucifer would look like, except have different paintings and statues, and be blazing hot of course.

She also couldn't shake the sensation that just below the surface, there was a current of eroticism. Maybe it was the realistic, nearly naked, bleeding figure nailed on the cross, and some sculptures of female saints were of quite beautiful women, bare feet showing, the angle of their necks quite attractive and sensual. The church was named St. Teresa. In one of the alcoves there was a statue of the saint which she thought was almost pornographic. The little bronze plaque at the base of the marble figure read: "St. Teresa in Ecstasy." The plaque had said it was a half size copy of the original statue in some church in Rome. There was also a Cupid with a bow and arrow hovering above her to the side. It was the oldest looking Cupid she had ever seen, a teenage Cupid grinning at the saint. Madeline had wondered what kind of ecstasy the woman saint had been experiencing.

She knew her husband, Jim, would be furious with her for just being here, let alone what she had been waiting to do for the past forty minutes. A priest or reverend or whatever they were called, was listening to people confessing sins in a three door closet set against the wall. She hoped she had figured it out correctly. He was behind the middle door with the little red light above the door and the brass name plate that read, "Fr. Phillip Kalinowski." When one of the Catholics wanted to confess, they went into the one of the other two doors, and she had seen them kneel down before the door closed, and a little white light turned on above the door when they did, she guessed to show it was occupied, like those little "occupied" signs on airplane bathrooms.

She had been waiting for more people to leave. There hadn't been any lines for confessing. When she had first walked in, there were about eight people scattered around in the church, and the two confessing closets had been occupied. Most were older persons kneeling in the pews, some holding those beads Catholics had, only one teenage girl had come in and gone into the confessing closet. The girl didn't hang around very long after she came out of the closet. She hadn't been as pretty as her beautiful Bridget.

The handwritten, taped up sign on the middle door read: "Confessions - 4PM to 6PM." She had now been the only one in the pews for the past five minutes. She glanced at her watch. 5:23PM. She had told her husband that she had to do a couple chores for the Ladies Club at church, which really hadn't been a total lie because she was in a church. The bigger lie was that she also told him a few of the ladies had talked about going out to dinner together afterwards. She hadn't known how long this would take here, plus the drive time to and from the city. Bridget was ordering a pizza for their dinner which her daughter had been happy about, although Jim hadn't been very pleased. Jason was coming over later to watch TV. She didn't worry about him tonight, Jim would keep an eye on him. The thought reminded her to replace the nearly empty bottle of hand lotion in the kitchen.

Madeline glanced around the cavernous church and figured it was now or never. She took a deep breath, stood up and vaguely heard the large front door of the church open and then clicked closed again. She stepped to the confessional, gave a last look around the large space and didn't see anyone. Maybe someone had just left. She opened the door to the right, and entered the "confessing closet." She knelt on the plastic covered foam kneeler, just as she had seen other people do. Before the door shut behind her, she saw a decorative metal grill over a rectangle of muslin cloth in front of her. The door closed and the latch made a metallic sound. She was kneeling in total darkness.

Her heart raced. She wasn't sure what to do. Did she have to knock on the wall or something? Maybe the minister was sleeping on the other side. She got scared. She suddenly decided it had been a very stupid idea and was about to get up and leave when she heard a wooden panel slide and the rectangle of the grate became softly illuminated. She couldn't see the pastor behind the muslin screen, just light. Then a shadow moved across it. The pastor was moving his arm in some rigmarole. Papists were so weird! She heard a male voice mumbling something but she couldn't make out the words. She froze wide eyed still not knowing what to do. The mumbling stopped.

Fr. Kalinowski waited a couple moments, frowned then spoke softly, "How long since your last confession?" He figured it was a 'fallen away" who had forgotten the prescribed lines he or she should say.

Madeline swallowed. Her heart kept thumping like a scared bunny. "Oh... um... well, never, um... Father... Reverend-Pastor, because, um... well, you see, I'm not a Catholic." Madeline heard a sigh.

"Are you a Christian?"

"Oh, yes, Father Reverend Pastor. I'm very much a Christian."

"It's just Father, miss."

"Pardon me?"

"You can just call me Father, not the rest... the reverend, pastor part."

"Oh... I didn't know that. I... I guess I could do that even though... well, I've only called my father, 'Father,' Father. Do... do I have to tell you my name?"

"No, no name is necessary, and everything said is strictly confidential. You're under the veil of confession, even though you're not a Catholic."

"A veil? I'm not wearing a veil. I didn't know I needed one. I don't mean to offend Father Rev... Father. I'm sorry. I really didn't kn..."

Fr. Kalinowski interrupted, "It's a... a figure of speech, and I guess some reference to the symbolic veil over the screen here in the confessional. It means... it means I can't tell anyone what you say, because it's between you and God, and it also means this is anonymous, so you don't have to tell me your name."

"Oh... I see. I mean, I knew about it not being able to be repeated, I mean I heard that, you know, on those TV police dramas, they always seem to have Catholic pastors in those when they know something about the killer or whatever but can't tell the cops... um... but I didn't know the veil term, Rev... I mean, Father."

He sighed. "Just call me Father Phil if you like, or Pastor if you're more comfortable with that. Now... what is it you'd like to talk about?"

Madeline let out a soft, brief, breathy, tense giggle. "Sorry. I'm not really laughing but... I just thought of Dr. Phil when you said that, you know, Oprah's friend? He's also a TV talk show host? I'm... I'm a little nervous, Father Phil."

Fr. Phil rolled his eyes as he shifted on his seat. "So... what is it that's troubling you?"

"I guess first... it's about confession. Could I ask how it works? I... I've heard that your sins are forgiven if you confess them to a pas... to a Father, and then do a penance. I'm... I'm wondering about the penance part."

"Penance is usually saying a number of prayers assigned by the priest, while meditating about correcting your behavior so you no longer offend God with sin. Sometimes it can be other acts usually including prayer, like... requiring the penitent, which means the person confessing, to do some charitable act, helping out at a hospital, or an old folks home for a day, maybe help a young person with some learning disability, help school children learn to read, something like that. Does that answer your question?"

"Oh... I thought it would more of a... well, a punishment. Um... something maybe even painful."

"In centuries past, sometimes penitents were required to wear sackcloth and rub ashes in their hair, then stand in front of the church so the congregation could see them repenting, but... that was a very, very long time ago. Except for certain circumstances in the early church, and of course the brief period of the Inquisition, corporal punishment was never really used as a penance. For centuries now, as I said, penance is usually just reciting a number of prayers assigned by the priest after the penitent makes a good confession."

"Oh... but centuries ago, there was corporal penance?"

"Yes, a long time ago, but that hasn't been done for centuries."

"And... when a person says the prayers, or centuries ago when there was corporal penance and that was finished, what... I mean, was the sin taken away?"

"Yes. The person comes back into the Body of Christ in grace. In other words, the sin is erased from their soul, washed away, the soul is cleansed of sin."

"Oh... yes, I see. Like starting over with a clean slate."

"Yes, like a clean slate. Now, is there something you'd like to talk about? Something you thought was a sin?"

"What if they get tempted again and do the same sin? Could they come back to confession and then do another penance or... or is a one time deal?" Madeline knew it was going to be very difficult not to enjoy the lessons with Jason.

Fr. Phil sighed again but there was a small crooked smile on his face too. "God is always willing to forgive, always willing to give you a second, third, et cetera chance, as long as there is true contrition in your heart, and... you have to really want to change, really want to be good after you confess and do your penance. You shouldn't look at it as a get out of jail free card."

"Okay, let's see if I have this straight. I confess to God by telling you my sins, I do the penance, really try to be good, but if I get tempted and sin again, I can confess it again, and do... well, do it all over again."

"Yes, yes that's right." He took a quick breath. "Now, do you want to discuss this sin of yours? Is it a mortal sin?"

"A... a mortal sin?"

"Mortal means a grievous offense against God, it's a really serious sin. A venial sin is.... is a smaller sin, like... a child acting up when he was told to behave by his parent. To have it be a mortal sin, it has to be a serious offense against God, it usually needs to be premeditated, you hav..."

Madeline interrupted, "Oh! I know that term, premeditated, like well... like in those TV dramas I mention earlier. Premeditated murder. That's much worse than like... well... regular murder. You're right, that is serious."

Father Phil looked at the screen and wondered if his friend Chuck over at St. Pancretius had gotten some woman to pull a practical joke on him. He didn't think Chuck would screw around about a sacrament though. No, she was for real. "Another thing you have to be aware of is your intent. You have to have the intent to sin, the intent to do wrong, intent to commit the sin, which is really the main part of the premeditated aspect. So... it's not wrong if you find someone injured on the street, then break the speed limit getting that person to the hospital. In that case, it wouldn't be wrong to speed. Your intent was to get help for the injured person, not to speed. The speeding in that case wouldn't be sinful."

Madeline blinked. "Father Phil, I didn't know speed limits were part of the ten commandments. Which one do speed limits fall under? I mean... I rarely drive the car fast, but I have a couple times."

Phil sighed. "That was just a simple example, an illustration of what intent was. I was talking about intent, not that speeding was a sin against God." He exhaled. "Why don't you just tell me what you're worried about, what sin you have committed."

Madeline's mind was racing. What had been her intent? She had intended to keep Bridget chaste, and to give Jason some instruction for his and Bridget's future marriage bed, and to ease his frustrations. That actually didn't sound too bad, didn't sound much like a sin at all really. It was almost like teaching a child to read, but, well, different.

Phil sighed. "Are you still there?"

"Oh... yes, Pas... Father Phil." Madeline smiled imagining it really was Dr. Phil behind the screen but the reverend didn't have a southern accent. She wondered if he was bald with a mustache. "Um... What was the question?"

"What sin do you want to confess?" Phil was getting irritated. He told himself to relax.

"Well... it's about my daughter, Bridget, and her fiancé Jason." Madeline's eyes popped wide. "Oh my goodness... I-I shouldn't have said their names because of the veil thing we're under. I'm so sor..."

Fr. Phil cut her off, "That's okay. It doesn't matter. Go on." He looked at his watch, then at the light display. At least someone wasn't waiting on the other side of him. "Go on." He thought of the Notre Dame-Michigan game coming on the tube in forty-five minutes. He really enjoyed "March Madness." Chuck was coming over for it after his confessions were finished at Pancretius. Chuck had gotten his BA at Notre Dame. Phil had put $20 on Michigan because Chuck gave him 3-1 odds. He looked at his watch again. He had to promise a couple future favors to Monsignor Kiley to switch and take the 7:30PM evening Mass for him so he could catch the game. He frowned and leaned his head against the wall separating him and this oddball woman. He told himself to listen better, she was a soul in need even if she wasn't Catholic and was keeping him from his two loves-- sports and betting on sports.

"Well... Bridget's father and I both want Bridget to be chaste, to be a virgin on her wedding night, her father, my husband, is very determined about that, and well... so am I, but... but... well... I have an additional concern, that... that her fiancé, be... well, be knowledgeable about the-the-the... um... you know, the marital bed, if you get my meaning, Father Phil. So... so he and Bridget are... um... satisfied and... and happy in their marital relations. And I have also been concerned about... um, Jason's sanity during this waiting period, I mean... you know how boys are, Father Phil. I mean you're a bo... oh my gosh... I know you never had any problem with that, Father. I-I didn't mean to imply that you'd be having dirty thoughts about any girl, because well I-I..."

A_Satori
A_Satori
757 Followers