Becoming Father Michael is a complete fantasy and any resemblance to anyone, or any location or convent is completely unintentional.
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Becoming Father Michael part 1.
“Have you thought of becoming a priest Michael?” Father Rafferty said after one mass when I just finished my confession.
“No father,” I said, “I think now I’ve finished school I’ll go and train for an accountant.”
“Ah but to be sure Michael there’s more to this life than figures,” he said, “Tis a fine life serving the Lord, Michael.”
“But father,” I replied, “Did I not just spend a quarter hour confessing to Jesus how I keep lusting after women?”
“That’s right Michael,” he said, “So why have you not thought of the priesthood?”
“But father!” I replied, “Every time I see a woman all I can think is what she’s like beneath the dress, how’s her cunt, is it shaven, what’s her ass like? you know, is that stockings and suspenders she has on, is her ass red raw where her man has whacked her, what has she for tits, you understand father?”
“Well,” he said, “I’m not getting any younger, and its a healthy young curate I’ll be needing, now tell your mammy father Rafferty says you’re to start training for the church next Sunday.”
“But father,” I protested, “I think about poking women with my rock hard cock just about every waking moment!”
“Sunday lad, now get out of my sight,all this talk of stocking and suspenders and smacking their bare asses, ’tis worse then the phonography,” he said, though I had a sneaking suspicion he meant pornography.
Mam was less surprised than I thought, “To be sure Michael you’re a strong enough lad,” she said when I told her, “And you know the scriptures do you not?”
“Yes but Mammy, I want to be a publican!” I said.
“You’ll spend your money on gambling and whores and come to no good,” Mammy said, “No it’s the priesthood for you lad.”
It was the next Saturday father Rafferty came around to see me, “Now your Mammy says you’re fine to join the priesthood and I’ve got a nice curate job for you if you can measure up.”
“Have I to sit an examination?” I asked.
“In a measure of speaking,” he agreed, “You’ve to see the mother superior at Ballykisasole convent,” he said.
“When father?” I asked.
“Why now,” he said, “You’re not been wanking have you?”
“No father, I only wank in the morning and evening and when I wake in the night,” I admitted.
“Good lad.” he said and he took me outside where his new green Ford Cortina stood, you know the one with round tail lights and his was the 1600cc with leather seats.
“Maybe you could have a car like this one day when you’ve your own Parish.” he suggested as we flew along at seventy miles an hour.
“God in heaven preserve us,” he said a couple of times.
“Do you pray constantly father?” I asked.
“No, tis the tyres,” he said as if I understood cars.
The Convent was like convents all over Ireland, big forbidding grey walls with happy nuns all singing and dancing and smiling inside where they looked after the orphan babies they found abandoned upon their doorstep, and to my surprise I was invited in not just to the visiting room but to the Mother superior’s quarters.
“So this is Michael?” Mother superior commented, “He’s a credit to you Dougal.”
Father Rafferty coughed awkwardly, “He’s a lusty lad by all accounts.”
“You lust after old women then Michael?” the Mother superior asked.
“Father?” I asked.
“I had to share the confessional with her grace Michael,” he admitted, “It won’t go against you, tell the truth.”
“I dream of cunts Mother,” I said, “Hairy old cunts, young juicy cunts, I cannot think of anything else!”
“But you’re a virgin still, you have refrained, the truth now!” she said.
“Yes mother,” I explained, “I just wank myself stupid.”
“Now that’s the worry, d’you see you’ll go blind.” the mother superior explained, “Won’t he sister Pious.”
I hadn’t realised frumpy middle aged sister Pious was there nor the young innocent sister Mary.
“Are you sure?” I asked, “How else am I to suppress my urges?”
“Have you explained nothing Dougal?” the mother superior asked.
“No, I’m afraid I did not.” father Rafferty admitted.
“The thing is Father Rafferty is getting older,” the mother explained, “For some time now he’s needed a cock ring and now he needs a butt plug up his ass before he’s any use to us at all.”
“What?” I asked in confusion.
“Oh he can poke Mary and the like, she’s all tits and legs, but he’s no good to me or Sister Pious or the ladies on O’Donnel street.”
“What?” I asked.
“He can’t get a cock lift, it’s not right a nun of my age needing to wear stockings to turn my priest on.” the mother superior admitted.
“Or mine,” Sister Pious agreed, and blushed furiously.
“You did say you fantasised about the Mother superior Michael,” Father Rafferty reminded me.
“Yes, I did, I did once,” I admitted, “In the night.”
“You see poor old Dougal just doesn’t measure up any more Michael,” The mother superior insisted, “Why ten years ago he had seven inches of solid cock, eight on a good day, solid muscle and a good squirt of nice creamy spunk, Michael, potent stuff Michael.”
“Cock?” I asked.
“And Michael’s cock Dougal, is it straight or curved and how long?” she asked greedily.
“How should I know?” father Rafferty asked.
“I thought you said he was the one?” Sister Pious reminded him.
“I haven’t exactly measured it,” Father Rafferty explained, “I couldn’t ask the lad to drop his trousers could I?”
“He’s your damned son,” she reminded him, “Seamus Riley never stayed sober long enough to poke the mother so he must be yours,” she said, “Just look at the eyes and the finger nails.”
“Ah well, your not wrong,” he said, “But the thoughts he has, stockings suspenders and whacking nuns on their bare asses with a leather belt.”
“In confession?” Sister Pious enquired.
“Yes in confession,” Father Rafferty agreed.
“You better show us,” the mother superior suggested, “Let us decide.”
“What?” I asked.
“Trousers down Michael,” Father Rafferty insisted, “You heard the reverend mother.”
“But father!” I protested.
“Trousers down Michael,” the mother superior ordered, “Let us see if you’re man enough for the good lord’s work.”
“Oh let me!” Sister Pious insisted and she stepped forward and grabbed my fly buttons and fumbled awkwardly as she tried to undo them.
She was no beauty but the scent of her in her starched headpiece and black robe and her fingers on me was enough and I started swelling in my underpants, “No!” I cried.
“What do you mean ‘No,” the mother superior cried, “There’s good work to be done, there’s orphans needed Michael and good god fearing young mothers whose men can’t do the manly thing just crying out for babies.”
“But mother!” I exclaimed as Sister Pious fumbled the last button and wrenched my flies open.
My cock made a tent pole of my underpants, until Sister Pious undid my trouser belt and wrenched my trousers and underpants to my knees.
“Will you look at that sister,” the mother superior cried, “Eight inches of good Irish cock.”
“Are you sure sister?” Sister Pious asked, “Could it be eight and a half?”
“Now Michael, you see we Nuns we give up fleshy pleasures to serve the lord but just once in a wee while we like to be reminded so, if you wouldn’t mind.
“Mind?” I asked.
“Just a couple of pokes if you please,” she asked, “Just a couple mind.”
“Father?” I asked.
“Take your trousers off,” Father Rafferty said, “And don’t be disrespectful, the mother superior needs a cock.”
“Yes father,” I agreed and I slipped off my stylish slip on winkle picker shoes and stepped out of my trousers and pants.
“Socks Michael, you can’t poke a nun with socks on,” he insisted.
“All right,” I said as I peeled my yellow socks off.”
“So Michael do I need stockings?” The mother superior asked as she sat on the floor and raised her robe to reveal some gnarled old thin bony legs and greyish thighs and the hairiest cunt you’d see outside the monkey house at Dublin zoo.
“No reverend mother,” I said awkwardly.
“Then poke me for my penance Michael,” she said, “Get me excited so I’m a gagging for it and then leave me unfulfilled Michael.”
“Our prayers are with you Michael,” Father Rafferty assured me.
“What, poke her?” I asked.
“Yes, Michael, come on along, ” the mother superior said, “Are my legs not spread wide enough in welcome?”
“Oh yes mother,” I said and I knelt before her and gently guided my stiff cock into her moist old hairy and well worn cunt.
It was heaven on earth, “Lord Jesus be praised!” I shouted with the thrill of poking a woman at last, in out, in out, I poked.
“Stop, enough!” Sister Pious insisted, “My turn!”
“Just once or twice more Michael, poke it right in me boy,” the mother insisted, “Jesus but that’s a fine cock you have there Michael, a fine cock indeed.”
“Get off it’s my turn!” Sister Pious insisted, and she grabbed me by the collar.
“Just a few more,” the mother superior pleaded.
“No, it’s my turn!” Pious insisted, “Michael!”
I was in heaven with the angels, “Michael!” Sister Pious insisted, and she hauled her robe over her head to stand there naked, as fine a figure of middle aged womanhood as you would see anywhere, why her tits were like cows udders and there wasn’t the single wisp of cunt hair anywhere no even round her ass hole.
“You trollop, Jezebel,” the mother cried, “I’ll have you whipped for lewdness,” and then she cried, “be Jesus he’s twitching pull it out Michael, don’t waste the god given seed of life, poke poor Mary!”
“He’s mine!” Sister Pious cried.
“But I’m to have the orphan!” Sister Mary protested.
“So which is it to be?”I asked as I slipped from the mother superior’s sopping cunt.
“Can you hold on a few pokes Michael?” Father Rafferty asked.
“If it’s god’s will,” I replied.
“Then poke Sister Pious!” he replied.
“Against the door post Michael,” Sister Pious insissted and she just about dragged me across the room to the door where she stood against the wall on one leg with the other leg swung aside and invited me to poke her.
I stood there uncertain but she just grabbed my cock still slippery with the mother superior’s juices and jammed it right in her aching cunt.
“Oh God in heaven that is good,” she cried as I slipped into her shaven wetness, “Oh what a
She gripped my cock like the jaws of a vice, Angels danced on my cock and here in distance was Satan and his crew sitting around their desert camp fire while the heavenly host made love and drank Guiness, and sang good old Irish songs.
“Enough, ’tis Mary that needs an orphan,” the mother superior reminded me, “Pull out Michael, shoot your wadge in a bowl and we’ll shove it up Mary on a stick.”
“No I’m fine Mother!” I insisted, “You ready for my cock Mary?”
Mary blushed, poor girl she was barely older than me, fresh faced innocent perhaps, she looked at the mother superior, “Must I?”
“Yes to be sure you swore obedience did you not?” the mother superior reminded her, “Lie down girl.”
Mary lay on the floor ad raised her robe to reveal tiny white panties with pink polka dots.
“What in God’s holy name are those?” Sister Pious asked, “You know we’re not allowed knickers.”
“Sorry sister,” Mary said and she pulled her knickers down revealing a tiny little cunt with furry hair all over her sweet little mound, “Pleas be gentle with me.”
Gentle, it was a race against time to get her poked before I shot me wadge so I just lay upon her and aimed my cock at her and banged away until I battered my way inside.
Eight or nine pokes she needed and then quite suddenly it all went easy and I was floating on clouds again, “Thank you,” I said absent mindedly.
“You can shoot your wadge Michael,” Father Rafferty suggested.
“No, you’re all right father, I’ll be a minute or so,” I said.
“Will you?” Mary asked, “Only it hurts a bit.”
“Squeeze him with your cunt muscles Mary,” Sister Pious suggested.
“Like this?” Sister Mary suggested.
“Oh sweet Jesus,” I whispered, “That feels like heaven.”
“You cock feels like heaven Michael Riley,” Mary said and suddenly like an express train
coming out of a tunnel my wadge shot out my balls down my shaft and burst out inside poor Mary.
“Michael Riley I love you!” Mary said suddenly and she convulsed like an adder had crawled up her backside and bitten her guts.
“Very impressive,” the mother superior said as she stood up and smoothed down her habit.
“That’s a man’s cock and no mistake,” Sister Pious added.
“So we’ll offer him the job then?” Father Rafferty asked.
“Will you do it Michael?” the mother superior asked, “You can be based here and still do your classes at university college but you’ll wear robes and a dog collar.”
“What about pay?” I asked.
“Pay, what will you want pay for with all found,” the mother superior enquired, “And Mary to set with child and your pastoral duties, will two thousand a year do?”
“When do I start?” I asked.
“You just did!” Sister Pious replied.
“Now, it’s priest’s robes you’ll be needing for it is said that trousers and underpants reduce sperm count, isn’t that right Sister Pious,” the mother superior asked.
“So it is said,” Sister Pious explained, “In the medical journals you understand.”
“So Michael you away with the good sisters and get your robes fitted,” Father Rafferty suggested.
I went to put my trousers on, “Oh there’s no need for that Michael, you’re quite safe here,” the mother superior said, “You run along now!”
I felt very foolish in my roll neck sweater and jacket with my shirt tails down around my arse and barefoot carrying my shoes and trousers as Sister Pious led me down the long bare stone floored corridor lined with ancient oil paintings towards the tailors in their ‘Sewing room,’ as the called it.
There there were mounds of cloth in every shade of grey and black and white you ever did see, silks and satins, and to the side there was the rich coloured cloth for the alter cloths and priests sashes and there within were two nuns, the older well into her eighties with glasses and a new fangled battery hearing aid and her assistant a sweet young nun of twenty or so.
“Will you look at the cock on that one Martha!” the old one cackled.
“I shall not look sister, it is sinful!” sister Martha insisted.
“Ah tis sinful and all hard and sinued sister,” the older nun observed, “The sort of fine upstanding cock that would bring a gleam to any young nun’s eye.”
“Sister Emmanuel, I did not join the order to look at cocks!” sister Martha replied blushing furiously.
“Then just bend from the waist,” sister Emmanuel suggested, “And hope he don’t stick it up your arse!”
“Sister!” Sister Martha exclaimed and she blushed bright red.
“Now sisters.” Sister Pious asked, “This poor young Father is in sore need of some robes.”
“Have you had a taste if him Sister Pious?” sister Emmanuel asked.
“That I have and he did not disappoint sisters, have no fear,” Sister Pious assured them, “He’s as lusty as he looks.”
I blushed as I saw them all looking at me and the hairs on my arse started prickling and my cock started getting a stand and started to come out between the flaps of my shirt.
“Do you see that Martha, it’s eight inches if its an inch,” Sister Pious added as Sister Martha blushed crimson.
“Well that’s by the bye,” Sister Emmanuel said dismissively, “But this poor lad needs some robes Martha, will you measure him please.”
“No!” Sister Martha cried, “I shall not, not with that, that thing poking out of him!”
“I’m asking for his inside leg sister, not asking you to suck on his cock!” Sister Emmanuel explained, as she threw a rolled up tape measure to Sister Martha “So just get on with it will you?”
Martha took a big breath and knelt before me with the tape, I felt her hot breath on my cock, I had to clasp my hands behind my back as her sweet mouth swayed inches from my erect cock, I just wanted to take her cheeks in my hands and thrust my hard cock into her sweet mouth and fuck her sweet face until she cried out with pleasure.
“Thirty two inches,” Sister Martha announced as her gossamer light fingers tickled against my foot and my balls and then she, “Seven and a half inches.”
“Never, that’s eight inches if it’s an inch,” Sister Pious opined.
“Ha, now measure it properly Martha, for gods sake,” Sister Emmanuel demanded, “Come on now sister, measure from root to tip.”
“Oh lord Jesus,” I cried and my tool swelled even more under her nimble fingers.
“For gods sake sister, measure him, not wank the poor lad off,” Sister Emmanuel chided, “Let us not spill the seed of life sister.”
“N’no, sorry,” Sister Martha exclaimed, “I’m sorry.”
“Sorry,” I said awkwardly.
“Ah ’tis not your fault,” Sister Emmanuel said, “It’s about time you had an orphan Sister Martha, what with these rubber johnnies everywhere and that there’s hardly an orphan born now, we’ll be out of a job otherwise!”
“But Sister I don’t want the pleasures of the flesh!” Sister Martha exclaimed, “I want the company of god and the sisters.”
“You’re a Lesbian!” I laughed, she blushed again.
“No!” she cried in alarm but I had caught her out.
“I saw you sneaking into sister Mary’s room!” Sister Pious declared.
“How is this getting me some robes?” I asked, “Me bare arse is freezing me balls off.”
“There you are Martha, you warm his cock up with your warm cunt,” Sister Pious suggested.
“Or use your mouth?” Sister Emmanuel suggested.
“Damn the all of you, I’ll turn Protestant if you don’t stop tormenting me!” Sister Martha exclaimed.
“That’s an evil threat to be sure, an evil threat,” Sister Emmanuel exclaimed, “There’s nothing for it lad you’ll have to cock her right now and show her the lords gift of love.”
“But Sister that’s rape!” I protested.
“No she’s taken a vow of obedience, now lie down sister and let the poor lad cock you,” Sister Emmanuel ordered.
“No!” Sister Martha cried, “I shall not!”
“Whip her bare ass Father Michael!” Sister Pious ordered, “I’ll hold her.”
“I’ll help you!” Sister Emmanuel volunteered and they grabbed Sister Martha and lofted her robe to reveal sensible black knickers from Marks and Spencer.
“Will you look at that,” Sister Emmanuel sighed, “Knickers under her roes, what a Jezebel.”
“Let me go!” Sister Martha cried but I saw her lovely pink bare arse and my leather belt in my trousers and I slipped it out and whacked the tan leather across her backside a few times, keaving red marks across the sweet virgin pinkness of it.
“Stop for pities sake stop!” she wailed.
“Will you do god’s will?” Sister Emmanuel demanded.
“Yes, but stop him whacking my arse while I can still walk!” Sister Martha cried.
“Stop Michael, lay her down on those old robes and cock her will you?” Sister Emmanuel asked.
“And get that shirt off or you’ll be too hot!” Sister Pious added.
I did like they said and stripped to me vest, “You look a right prat Michael, take off the vest why don’t you, cock her in the Lord’s image as you were born.” Sister Pious added.
It was quite naked that I advanced upon Sister Martha, “What a magnificent specimen he is Martha, don’t you think you should show him your tits?” Sister Pious added.
“Yes have your robe off and your headpiece Martha, else they’ll get dirty.” Sister Emmanuel added and between them the stripped poor Martha naked.
She looked at me sorrowfully, he sweet tits all displayed and with the headpiece off she had auburn hair and auburn cunt hair and she was the most beautiful girl in the whole world.
“Don’t hurt me Michael,” she said awkwardly.
“I’ll not hurt you of you relax and think of god almighty in heaven,” I assured her and I just advanced at her and spread her leg apart and sunk me cock into her warm wet cunt an inch or so at first and then I got a grip on her and forced it in the rest of the way.
She screamed, “Aggghhhh.”
“Pray,” I said, “Pray for the glory of god.”
“Yes Father,” she said, “Thank you, for prayer shall be my comfort in adversity.”
“There’s no adversity in an eight inch cock, sister.” Sister Pious told her, “You be grateful it’s a god fearing Catholic lad poking of you not some evil protestant or worse.”
“Yes sister,” Sister Martha agreed obediently.
“Then pray sister, pray for a strong lusty orphan for our orphanage,” Sister Pious said encouragingly.
“Yes, sister,” Sister Martha agreed, “Are you sure it’s not sinful?”
“How can begetting gods children be sinful child, you’re married to god,” Sister Emmanuel explained, “Michaels cock is just serving the lord do you see?”
“But I’ve not made my vows yet sister.” Sister Martha protested.
“Then you’re nothing but a slut and a jezebel, wailing and howling like a she cat on heat.” Sister Emmannuel countered.
“You’re going to join us though sister, that is what matters.” Sister Pious pointed out while glowering at Sister Emmanuel.
I fucked away through all of this trying to think of other things, Ferrari racing cars and MV Agusta racing motorcycles, but it was no good, sister Martha was too warm and wet and willing and I felt the time had come, “For what you are about to ricieve,” I said but bit was too late and the dam burst and me spunk was flooding her parts, well as much as I had for fucking the other nuns had run me balls low.
“Oh father that’s like the Angels have touched me,” she said as I shot me wadge, “Crawled in me and touched my heart.”
“What do you mean the Angels touched your arse?” Sister Emmanuel asked as she fiddled with her hearing aid, and I just about collapsed on poor Martha and laughed me head off.
“Come on now sisters it’s robes he’s needing,” Sister Pious opined.
“He needs his lunch,” Sister Martha added, “He’s exhausted,” she said and she ruffled my hair, “You just rest a while father,” she added.
She was warm and soft and I’m afraid I must have dozed off laying across her.
I woke lying on my back naked s the day I was born lying on a mound of cloth.
“Are you awake now father?” Sister Martha said with sincere concern in her voice, “I think you over did it father.”
“Sorry,” I said, “I got to learn to pace myself I suppose.”
“Well you missed your dinner father now let’s get you robed and you can get the fish and chips.” sister Emmanuel suggested.
“I’ll wear my own clothes,” I explained,
“Ah to be sure Michael, wear the robes, you’ll get the fish half price in Murphys Fish Bar,” Sister Pious explained.
“And half price stout and Guiness in O’Donnel’s,” Sister Pious added.
“You wouldn’t see your way to getting me a nice bottle of milk stout would you,” Sister Emmanuel chipped in, “Only with all these nuns getting cocked I needs me own pleasure.”
“That I will sister,” I said, “If I’ve a robe?”
“Well there a nice deep black with moleskin lining here,” Sister Emmanuel explained, “They say it’s lovely and soft on the cock.”
“What?” I asked.
“It’s second hand, father O’Grady died in it,” Sister Emmanuel explained, “But it’s hardly worn and the moth holes is hardly noticeable.”
“Someone shot father O’Grady?” I asked.
“No moth holes,” she repeated slowly.
“I suppose,” I said.
“You’ll wear a shirt with it and a clerical collar and a hat and shoes and these.” Sister Pious added and she showed me the bottoms or trouser legs that had belts to fit above my knees, “So it seems you’ve the trousers on. oh and this,” she said, “The weight,” and she handed me something I can only say was like a Scotsman’s sporran, but weighed several pounds “To hold your cock down if you need it,” she explained.
I put my shirt on and the trouser bottoms and my shoes and socks and finally the robe.
“You forgot the weight,” Sister Pious explained.
“I shan’t need it,” I explained.
“Martha would you be so good as to flash your cunt at this good Curate,” Sister Pious asked..
“No that I won’t!” she said but my cock was rising and the robe was stuck out like a tent pole was in it.
“Ah, maybe I need the weight,” I agreed.
“Maybe you and Martha need to lie down father,” Sister Emmanuel suggested.
“No, you’re all right, I’ll away and get the supper,” I promised.
“You’ll need money,” Sister Emmanuel pointed out and she handed me a ten bob note and a half crown, “I’ll want change mind father,” she explained.
“I’ll away then,” I suggested, “I’ll see you later.”
It was an odd feeling to be sure walking out of the room in my robe with no pants on and my cock held down by the weight, but I made my way to O’Donnel for the stout and Murphys for the fish and chips and was back within a quarter hour having been pushed to the front of the queue at both places.
“So how was it?” Father Rafferty asked on my return.
“It’s all right,” I said, “I suppose.”
“All right, sweet Jesus you cocked two of the sweetest young nuns a father could wish for and you say it’s ‘all right!” he chided.
“Well, I’ll tell you when I’ve had me supper,” I said, “I’m starving!”
“Well hurry up Michael for it’s light’s out at eight thirty.” he said.
It was already ten past, “Will you take me home father?” I asked.
“Tomorrow maybe Michael,” he said, “You get some rest.”
“Where shall I sleep?” I asked.
“In the guest room, in the double bed,” he said, “With Mary and Martha to keep you safe and warm,”
To be contined maybe.