TW: abuse
Alex's POV
Father Jared closed the door to his office, but it was also where he got ready, so it felt like a pretty open space. Somehow, that made me feel more vulnerable.
"So," he said, sitting down in his padded chair behind his desk while I was stuck sitting in a hard wooden chair. "Let's just get right to it, shall we?" I reached into my bag and pulled out my notebook. I was supposed to write in it every day about God or whatever, but I always ended up rushing to finish it and writing down whatever will earn me brownie points from Father Jared. I dropped the half-filled notebook on his desk, and he gave me a warning glare before picking it up and reading through it.
Father Jared was a conventionally attractive guy in his late thirties to early forties, I'd say. The older women love him, and I'm pretty sure it's just because they all have massive crushes on him. I'd bet good money on the fact that any of them would leave their crusty husbands for a chance with this guy. During church, he's funny, charismatic, and outwardly a good guy all around. Unfortunately for me, behind closed doors, he's nothing like that at all.
"I can see through your writing that you're committed to a faithful life devoted to our Lord," he complimented me.
"Yes, Father, I am."
"See, you say that, but somehow, I can't seem to believe you. That is, if that's really you talking. Has the devil gotten his hold on your heart?"
"No, Father, I've been a good disciple." Jesus Christ, I sounded like the beginning of a bad porno. You gotta do what you gotta do though, and in my case, it was to act like a total Jesus freak to make him happy.
"Tell me this," Father said, closing my journal and placing it on his desk before folding his hands and leaning closer. "Have you had any...impure thoughts since I last saw you?"
"No, Father, I am committed to chastity."
"Are you sure? Your fidgeting hands seem to differ." I looked down, and sure enough, I was picking at my nails. It took everything in me to not roll my eyes and make fun of him.
"You're telling me," he began, "that you are no longer being plagued with homosexual thoughts and tendencies?"
"That's correct, Father." Father Jared stood up and started to pace behind me. I knew I couldn't turn around to look at him, so I kept my face toward the wall and trained my ears on him as my pulse quickened. He slowly got closer until his mouth was almost directly against my ear.
"Are you sure you haven't thought of how beautiful women are? They really are exquisite, aren't they?" he whispered, trying to trap me in my response.
"I have not had those thoughts, Father."
"Then swear it."
"I swear." I felt his eyes trained on me.
"Stand up," he commanded, so I did, brushing the back of my dress to make sure everything was still covered. He chuckled. As much as I tried to hide it, I knew he could hear my breathing speed up. As slowly as he could, Father Jared walked behind his desk and opened up his drawer, glancing up at me to make sure I was watching before pulling out something that made me flinch just seeing it. He smirked, admiring the wooden paddle. Father Jared returned to his current place behind me.
"Elbows on the desk."
"Father, please, I didn't-" my voice shook.
"Now!" I took in a deep breath and put my elbows on the desk and left my ass in the air, folding my hands.
"One last chance. Did you or did you not have impure thoughts?" When I didn't answer right away, he grabbed the bottom of my dress and pulled it up, exposing my underwear. I knew what was going to come next if I didn't say anything.
"Okay, wait! I did, I'm sorry," I admitted finally, the color rising in my cheeks.
"Thank you for your honesty. How many times today?"
"I don't know," I said honestly.
"How many?" his voice rose.
"Five, okay five!" I picked a number at random. In reality, I knew it was much higher than that.
"Thank you for your honesty." I let out the breath I didn't realize I had been holding. "John 8:34. 'Whoever commits a sin is a slave of sin.'"
"Wait, what?"
The paddle came down hard on my ass with no warning, and I didn't have any time to brace myself, so the full force of the paddle hurt like a bitch. I cried out in both pain and surprise.
"Let it out, honey. Let everyone in there know how disgusting you are, whoring around with other women like a prostitute!" Oh god, was Morgan still here? Humiliation flooded my cheeks as I dug my fingernails into my palms to keep the tears inside. Father Jared loved breaking kids down, me specifically. He would have a field day if I started crying.
The next time he hit me, I was ready. I knew it was coming, so it didn't hurt as much as the first one, but damn, what the fuck was he on? He must love letting out all of his anger on me. How many did I say? Five? Okay, three more. I can do this. Two more came down hard. I think he was aiming for my tailbone. If not, it must've been a lucky hit.
The last one always hurt the most. He liked to leave an impression, that's for sure. He really put everything he had into that one. A quiet squeak slipped out of my lips. I hoped it wasn't loud enough to be heard in the church. A rosary group comes in on Sundays around this time, and I would be mortified if they knew what was going on.
"Take a seat, Alexis," Father Jared finally said. I yanked my dress back down over my probably bruised ass and forced myself to sit on the chair. I hissed at the pain of the hard chair against my sore butt, but I would take regular pain over this humiliation any day. My humiliation mixed with anger, and I was beyond pissed, but I couldn't show it here. If I did, I have no doubts he would call me out as an "example to learn from" during his sermon next Sunday. I slouched down in the chair, easing the pressure against my butt.
"Now, what have you learned from today's session?" he asked calmly, as if he didn't just paddle me.
"That acting on my homosexual tendencies will just cause me pain in the long run," I recited. After some experimentation, I figured out this was the response that would get me out of there the fastest.
"Correct. Alexis, I believe you're making outstanding progress with these sessions. Unfortunately, I have dinner plans, so we're going to have to cut this lesson a little short, so read an extra Bible passage before you go to sleep tonight. Continue writing in your journal, and I'll see you again next week." Fuck you. I hope you fucking choke in your sleep.
"Thank you, Father."
"Your penance for today is to walk home. I will call Maribeth to let her know she'll be expecting you late. As you walk, think of what occurred today and how you can prevent it in the future." Of course. Thank god I grabbed my headphones before I left. I stood up and pulled the straps of my drawstring bag over one shoulder and got the hell out of there.
By the time I got outside, I was plugging my headphones into my phone, clicking on my angsty playlist, and turning it up as loud as I could take it. Maybe it's good that I'll have to walk home. I'll be able to do something with this anger. I pocketed my phone, grabbed my drawstring straps a little tighter, and started walking.
I didn't even manage to get out of the parking lot before Morgan came out of nowhere and asked me a question, but I couldn't hear him over my music, so I muttered a quick "fuck off" and walked right past him. Morgan sped up so he was walking side by side with me. He kept talking, but I couldn't hear him, and even if I could, I still wouldn't listen.
Morgan yanked on the wire of my earbuds, causing them to tumble out of my ears.
"Hey, I asked you a question," Morgan said. He seemed frustrated, but I couldn't lose this anger. Not yet. Once my anger crashes, so do I, and I still have to walk ten miles home.
"And I told you to fuck off. Looks like we both got disappointed." I went to put my earbuds back in, but I was a little too late. He grabbed the wire and pulled my phone out of my pocket, turned off my playlist, and tucked it away in his pocket.
"What's your problem?" I screamed.
"My problem is not knowing what the hell went on in there," Morgan shot back. Oh. I started to deflate but quickly reminded myself that without this angry adrenaline rush, I'll never be able to get home.
"As much as I'd love to stay and chat, I have a ten mile walk ahead of me, and it's getting dark soon, so if you don't mind-" I held out my hand, waiting for him to give me back my phone. I half expected him to get even angrier. Instead, he just looked confused.
"Nah, there's no way I'm letting you walk ten miles home by yourself. Come on, I'm driving." Okay, this was getting old, and I was getting tired.
"Getting in a car with a strange guy I barely know sounds great, but if I'm home any sooner than ten, Maribeth'll know I didn't walk the half marathon." I held out my hand again.
"Fine," Morgan sighed. I smiled a little as he reached into his pocket, but instead of pulling out my phone, he pulled out his car keys. "You hungry? I'm buying."
"You're the actual worst, you know that, right?"
"I know, sweetheart. Let's go." Morgan put his hand on my shoulder and led me back into the parking lot.