Alice leaned her head on her pale, freckled hand and looked out the window of her classroom on the 3rd floor of St. Ignace’s Academy for Young Women, longing for adventure. It was three weeks from Christmas and the Cincinnati snow floated down ever so slowly, almost as slowly as her senior year was going by. Somehow turning eighteen at the beginning of the school year only added to the torture of waiting to leave.

Sister Catherine lectured on half-heartedly about Darwinism and the “accepted” theory of evolution. The strict old nun’s discomfort would have usually given Alice some respite from her boredom, but nothing could seem to break her malaise this afternoon. Even her fantasies of the trail could not seem to raise her spirits. Since the previous summer, she had planned to hike the length of the Appalachian Mountains after graduation. She longed for freedom, a challenge, and the independence that her parents, the church, and her school had deprived her of since she was a little girl. And her illicit plans for funding the trip were going perfectly. Even so, adventure seemed so far away from her on this grey, December afternoon.

A tall priest entering the classroom interrupted the unenthusiastic science lesson. Father Michael was a stern, severely anti-social man with thick brown and grey eyebrows that were constantly furrowed as he would glare at people through his blood-red colored eyeglasses. The students always joked that he had “resting murder face”, but aside from his position as head priest, no one knew anything about him. He insisted on being called Father Michael as opposed to his last name, but it was definitely not to be more approachable. The rumor was that he hated his family, but every detail about him was only a rumor. By the streaks of grey in his dark brown hair, one could guess that he was in his early fifties. If he stopped scowling for a moment, he could have been seen as very handsome, but Alice and everyone else, clergy included, were just afraid of him. He never gave sermons or spoke in general, but it was well known that his office was the last place on earth into which anyone would wish to be called.

He walked slowly and gracefully towards Sister Catherine, who quickly straightened and patted out any wrinkles in her habit. He passed her a note and whispered into the nun’s ear. She nodded rapidly, bowed her head, and said, “Of course, thank you.” As Father Michael stepped away, his head twisted with precision towards Alice and looked at her for a moment. There was something predatory about the look, like he was some kind of monster who’s cave she’d entered by mistake. She looked down as fast as she could and pretended to write on her notepad. By the time she looked up, the tall, narrow priest was walking out the door without giving the room a second glance.

The look remained on her mind for the rest of the day. Did he know? How? She comforted herself with the fact that he just looked at everyone that way and that no one could have found out what she’d been up to. She fell asleep soundly that night, having dreams of endless woods without a single image of the tall priest with blood-red glasses.

Alice spent all the following day awaiting Wednesday night mass. Not for the service, but for afterwards. She sat in the pews with her parents before the sermon and put on her best Catholic schoolgirl smile, giving no one a hint of what she was up to. Father Michael stood in a corner and listened to the main sermon about penance with a crooked smile. She’d never seen him smile before. It made her laugh silently to herself. Of course, the head of discipline would have a hard on for punishment. He probably used to tie women up before he joined the priesthood, she thought. A dampness appeared between her legs and she quickly shook the thought out of her head, confused about how it made her feel the way it did, and spent the rest of the sermon thinking only of the trail and becoming lost in the trees. And as the offering plates passed by filled with cash and envelopes, she knew she’d be that much closer to her adventure.

Alice said goodbye to her parents after mass. Her dad gave her yet another talk about being careful driving through the snow and hugged his little angel goodnight. Alice headed upstairs to a mildewy smelling financial office to help the even more mildewy smelling Sister Meredith count the church’s haul for the night.

The whole jig depended on the nearly blind, practically deaf, and almost dead Sister Meredith. The church needed a trustworthy assistant to help the poor old woman count and record the offerings after mass. Luckily, everyone recommended perfect, virginal little Ally for the job. Even luckier, Catholics like to have a shitload of masses.

Alice repeated her usual skim. Winter made it even easier to pocket a portion of the larger bills. She never allowed herself to become too greedy or too stupid. She kept everything modest while she listened to Sister Meredith fawn over her and repeatedly ask her about boys and plans for college. Alice finished up her report wondering how such a sweet, naïve old lady could ever have been placed in charge of counting money for one of the most ruthless organizations in human history when Father Michael walked in wearing that familiar crooked smile on his face. An Alter boy waited outside the office.

“Sister Meredith.”

The old nun popped up in surprise and attempted to speak. Though she could barely hear, his voice was unmistakable, for there was an underlying malice to it only partially covered up by professionalism and “holiness”. Alice simply froze and did her best to quell the trembling in her hands and in her thighs.

“Don’t trouble yourself, Meredith. Have you finished your report for the evening?”

“Yes, Father. Alice was just filing it now.”

“Excellent. I need to borrow her for a while. Anthony here will walk you to your car when you’ve finished.”

Alice's entire world was crashing down around her as Meredith thanked the old priest. He turned without looking at her and said, “Alice, follow me”.

She shook and could not look at anything but the wooden floor as she followed the tall priest down the hall towards his office. The bills in her jacket pocket crinkled with every shameful step. When they entered. He took her coat in a gentlemanly fashion and placed on the rack by the door without a second thought, then merely said, “Have a seat”, indicating an old leather chair opposite his own at a large wooden desk. He sat across from her; hands folded. Although she couldn’t look up, she could feel his glare through his red glasses on her.

He opened his laptop as she sat in silence. After a few clicks, he turned it around so Alice could see the screen. She knew it was all over for her when she saw a video of herself helping record the weekly offerings.

“I had it installed over the summer,” Father Michael said coldly.

If Alice had anything to say, there was no chance of her getting the words out through her trembling lips.

“I’d say you’re up to 10,000, give or take. That’s grand theft.”

“I… I….”

“You’ll be tried as an adult. No judge will look kindly on someone stealing from a church and a school for such an extended period. They will throw your name around in the local news. And then there is, of course, your family. What will they think of their sweet little Ally?"

She shook as the tears ran down her cheeks. All she could muster was, “Please”.

Father Michael stared at the young girl, showing no emotion. And then his crooked smile returned to his bearded face.

“There is only one way this isn’t going to the police.”

She almost jumped out of her chair and said, “Please, anything. Just tell me what…”

He cut her off sharply, “Shut up”.

She stopped speaking and put her head back down.

“Penance, Alice. You’re going to have to willingly take severe punishment. Punishment from me.”

She was terrified of the old priest, but the rest of her life was at stake. She nodded her head slightly and said, “Yes. Anything.”

The priest stood up slowly, walking around behind her. She kept her head down but could feel his predatory stare on the back of her freckled neck.

“Stand up. Now.”

She did as she was told, and Michael removed the chair behind her.

“Bend over the desk.”

She turned her head in confusion and asked, “What?”

He raised his raspy voice. “Bend over the fucking desk!”

She shook in terror but did as she was told. She felt the cold of the wooden desk through her thin white top.

“Lift your skirt, Alice.”

She stuttered in fear, “P… Please Father”.

The priest slowly and deliberately, in a low, demonic tone said, “Lift your fucking skirt, whore.”

Her fingers shook as if she’d been left out in the cold for hours, but she lifted the hem of her plaid skirt, exposing the white cotton underwear and pale, freckled cheeks underneath.

“Good girl”, the priest whispered as his rough hand caressed her right cheek.

The touch ran through her entire body. Her chest heaved as she tried to breathe, and that same wetness appeared between her legs against her will. He squeezed her ass firmly and a noise that was half yelp and half moan escaped Alice's lips without her consent. The old man pressed the palm of his left hand on her lower back, pinning her firmly in place. She felt his right hand leave her cheek and come back down hard. She screamed at the pain, not understanding how it could make her so wet inside. The priest did not relent. He began slapping the young girl’s supple little ass again and again, causing her feet to kick uncontrollably. Each hit was heavier than the last, and Michael grunted deeply with each swat. She tried to escape, but the old man was strong and effortlessly held her in place as he punished her.

He leaned his arm against her back and with a quick motion, pulled her white underwear up so hard that it lifted her lower half, wedging them up her cheeks and exposing the soft, white skin underneath as he continued his onslaught. Alice dug her fingernails into the desk as sounds she never thought she could make came out of her pink lips. With a final slap that felt like it made her bleed, he relented and squeezed her now red and purple cheeks in his hands. Alice let out a yelp of confusion as he ran his finger down between her cheeks, grazing her asshole slightly before feeling the wetness between her legs.

“You little slut”, he said degradingly.

He continued to hold her underwear up her ass like a leash as he walked around to the other side of the desk, placing his crotch in front of her face. Even through the cassock the priest wore, Alice could see the priest’s erection and feared what would come next.

Father Michael quickly removed his cock from his gown and pressed it against Alice's face. The heat from it felt comforting and terrifying to her as he smeared it against her cheek. Her mouth opened instinctively as he rubbed the tip against her lips and she grazed it with her tongue before shyly looking up.

"I've never..."

The priest inserted his thumb into Alice's mouth forcing it open before sliding his cock in, causing her to choke. She struggled to get away, but the old man grabbed her red hair in one hand and pulled her underwear further up her ass, drawing her towards him as he assaulted her sweet mouth.

Alice wasn’t in control of her emotions anymore and couldn’t help tightly squeezing her lips around the thick cock of the old man, savoring the musky taste and warmth inside her mouth. His thrusts became harder and more rapid, driving deeper into her throat as she gasped for air through her nostrils. Spit fell in a torrent down onto the floor as he turned her into nothing more than an object for his enjoyment.

Michael’s raspy voice cried out in a roar as he pulled his cock out of Alice’s mouth. He held the girl’s face up as he shot thick ropes of cum onto her cheeks and mouth.

“Lick it up, you little slut. Every fucking drop.”

To both of their surprise, she did so eagerly and without hesitation, taking her last moments to lick the length of his cock and suck the last drops of cum from inside it. The two stayed silent for a moment before Father Michael put himself away and walked towards a cabinet by the desk. He poured himself a glass of wine as Alice lay exposed and panting on the wooden surface.

He tossed her a rag and said, “Get the fuck out of here. Be back tomorrow after your last class. You’re not finished yet. Not even close”.

Alice slowly slid off the desk and wiped the priest’s cum from her face. She rearranged herself, pulling the underwear out of her ass and limping to her coat. She pulled the money out.

“Keep it”, the priest said.

She just nodded sheepishly and walked out the door, feeling his stare on her back. She drove home in silence, unable to comprehend what had just happened to her. The pain in her ass cheeks made it unbearable to sit in her leather car seat, and she was grateful to get out when she reached home. She quickly made her way up the stairs, saying as little as possible to her parents. When she reached her bedroom, she looked into her vanity mirror and turned, lifting her skirt and pulling down her underwear to inspect the damage Father Michael had inflicted on her. She was shocked at first when she saw her red and purple cheeks, then smiled a crooked smile as she admired her bruises. She laid down in bed that night and touched herself, thinking of nothing but shame and penance.