The Confessions of Saint Jon

My first erection, at least the first one I remember, occurred during Mass one cold morning in 1954. I was 11 or 12, and an altar boy. I was looking up at the image of Jesus hanging on the huge cross above the altar when my cock swelled and stiffened under my altar boy's cassock and surplice. I remember feeling a wonderful pleasant feeling until it subsided a while later. Serving God and repeating the pleasure I felt in my young cock became two intertwined themes of my entire life. Much of the time, my cock became my God, and the pursuit of erotic pleasure an all-consuming fire. I discovered that many things made my cock get hard, particularly girls with breasts showing, but also stories of Saints who were tortured and killed, especially female saints... Perpetua, Agatha, Lucy, Agnes, Cecilia. All the wonderful stories of saintly girls who had their tits cut off or were beheaded or stabbed with swords or spears... even St Sebastian, who was a guy, tied naked to a tree and shot full of arrows.

I practiced thinking about any of these things and feeling my cock get hard, it was such an enjoyable pass-time when I was bored in Catholic School or at home alone in my room. I remember taking a bath one Saturday evening, and pretending that I was St. Sebastian, getting shot in the belly with arrows. My cock got hard as I play-acted the arrows hitting my naked body, then I slumped dramatically down into the water, holding my cock like an arrow that had punched into my belly. My cock responded by jerking in my hand, then spurting its first load of cum up in the air and all over my arrow-pierced belly, along with the most wonderful pleasure I had ever felt. I was sure that God was blessing me with a spiritual experience for honoring St. Sebastian... or that maybe my cock itself was how God came to be inside me.

I repeated this wonderful spiritual pleasure every time I took a bath, and soon discovered that I could bring about this wonderful burst of pleasure and feeling of being filled with God almost anywhere, any time. Of course, I didn't do it in public, since I had already been trained in modesty regarding my "bad parts", but in the bath, in my bed, in the boy's room at school, in the woods at my favorite tree... almost anywhere that I was alone.

I discovered that I loved to play "war" games with the other boys (and sometimes girls), or "cowboys and indians", in which I would arrange to be one of the unlucky victims. Sometimes in the course of an afternoon of playing, I would manage to be dramatically machine-gunned by the Nazis 8 or 10 times, in separate waves of attack upon a machine-gun nest. Or I would take multiple arrows in the belly during an indian attack. Later, alone in my room, I would replay the scenes in my mind, feeling the bullets or arrows punching into my belly and finally allowing myself to be riddled with bullets from a machine gun just as I was shooting my load, jerking from pleasure and from the impact of bullets, and spewing my load everywhere, as I go down.

I would lay on my bed afterward, wondering what it would feel like to be a saintly martyr and be killed in numerous grisly and sometimes sadistic ways. Or what it would feel like to be one of the killers: a soldier in a machine gun nest, mowing down the enemy, seeing the bullets punch into their bellies and chests; a Roman soldier charged with stripping a saintly virgin naked and punching a spear or sword thru her belly again and again... until my divine cock rewarded me again with convulsions of pleasure and bursts of blessed juice.

To be continued...