Page 31 of Fabulous Filthy Friend

I can only imagine what the old man behind the partition is picturing—theft, rape, murder—the worst of the seven cardinal sins they warn us about in Mass every Sunday.

What I’ve been doing is nothing compared to those things we’re always told will send us straight to Hell, but I still can’t shake the weight from my shoulders or the feeling of dirt on my skin.

Lust is a deadly sin for a reason.

It still stains your soul, even if it doesn’t mean getting blood on your hands.

It was so easy when I could separate HRD4U from Flynn, but that’s getting harder and harder, if not impossible.

“It’s not anything illegal or criminal or anything like that.”

The old priest—Father Lafayette if I’m not mistaken—chuckles. “That’s good to know, my son. So, what is the problem?”

“Well…”

Shit. How do I tell this guy what I’ve been doing?

It’s probably best to rip off the Band-Aid. Just tell him.

“Father, I have a webcam site.”

Silence greets me.

He clears his throat. “I’m not sure I follow.”

Of course, he doesn’t. This guy is probably ninety years old and has no idea what a fucking webcam is.

“Uh, it’s a camera system that allows people to go on the internet and see me.”

All of me. In my birthday suit. And then some…

“Ah, I see, and where’s the problem?”

I bury my face in my hands and release a sigh.

Jesus, is he going to make me say it?

“They watch me do…things.” That should be enough for him to draw the right conclusions.

“What kinds of things?”

Oh, God…

This is my penance right here. Having to actually say the words. This is the Lord Almighty telling me it’s wrong and making me pay.

I clear my throat. “Well…cooking, cleaning, showering—”

“Showering?”

“Yes, Father, and…you know…choking the chicken.”

“Choking the chicken? I’m sorry, son, I don’t understand.”

God, strike me down right now.

Take me before I have to say these words.

Was this guy never a teenager?

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