I went to a seminary for my secondary education. So I dont have to tell you that in those formative years i was an alter boy. Further, that I wanted to be a priest. I felt my life had a priestly calling, and that i heard. Not that it was a heard mentality, that since tuko seminary tunataka kuwa priests. Nope. I really wanted to be a priest.
So when i went to the seminary i took up roles in the seminary’s chapel. That meant that before masses I had to make preparations. I was young, innocent …everything that points towards naivety. My resolve to be a priest grew during this time. I couldnt wait to clear school.
Now, in seminaries, a student is usually appointed to be incharge of the sacrist. For those not in the know, the sacrist is a room, usually behind the altar, where priest vestments, sacraments and usually, its where the priests dress up before proceeding to mass.
In our seminary, the sacristian was a pretty faced boy. Short with nywele zile zinakaa nzi.
One time, stima zilipotea. I was in the sacrist with him preparing for the following day’s mass.
Looking back, I dont remember how it started or happened so easily.
But he forced me to give him a handjob. I cried but he kept on hitting me to continue till he cums. And he took long. He kept handing me vaseline. He made sounds. When he cummed, it was on my hand. And it smelled vibaya.
During the remainder of my time in the seminary, the sight of the guy tormented me. I hated him so much. More so, he had this holy thing pretence while he undertook his duties in the church. Luckily, he was my senior, and therefore left a year after the event.
I only told one person after that.
Now, you guys are the second.
[I]Some weeks thereafter, I tried the handjob on myself, Ok, i masturbated. The motivation was to feel the pleasure he felt while i did it to him. To understand it. That was my first nduthi.
To my surprise, my semen didn’t smell.[/I]