Carnal Confession

by JJ Collins

Smashwords Edition

Copyright 2012 -- JJ Collins

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The confessional door slid open with a clatter, and Sister Sara looked around at the quiet cathedral. All was still; the other nuns, including Mother Superior, were in bed. She slid the door shut behind her and knelt in the cramped, quiet space, her hands clasped in prayer.

A few heartbeats later, the door on the opposite side of the latticed screen slid open; it allowed shafts of light to hit her face as she looked up. She held her breath, waiting for the worst.

Instead, Father Christopher's rich tenor echoed through the small space they shared. Had it been anyone else, she would have fled to the dormitory and the safety of the other nuns.

"I am here, child, and I will hear your confession." The words slid through the latticework of the confessional window. She squirmed on her knees, the sound of his voice sending her into a full-body shiver.

"F-forgive me, Father, for I have sinned," she said. "It has been nearly a month since my last confession."

There was a moment of silence, and then the seat in the other cell creaked as the Father shifted. She imagined him there, seated in the darkness of the cell, and licked her lips at the mental image. He was tall, and his legs would be splayed out in front of him, his hands dangling in his lap as he regarded her with an indolent smile. His collar would gleam white, even in the shadows; she could see it even as her imaginary self knelt before him…

She shook her head to clear it. Not in the confessional!

Shame washed through her. She reddened, and looked down at her clasped hands as Father Christopher shifted again. She tried to remind herself of where she was as she fought against the response her body had to just the sound of his voice. She could feel the familiar ache in her pussy build, and could feel the wetness as it seeped into the cotton prison of her panties.

"Something must be troubling you, my child, to go without confession for so long," said Father Christopher. "Why don't we start at the beginning, hm?"

She swallowed, her hands still clasped together in front of her. She could see her knuckles in the shadows of the penitent cell, bone white as her grip forced the blood out of them. He knew her transgressions; he had initiated most of them, in fact. Still, she knew it was up to her to voice them and receive absolution and repentance.

She took a deep breath and began. "I am guilty of the sin of lust, Father. I lust with my body, and I lust for the touch of a man on my body, and for sex. It's wrong."

"You say you are guilty of lust, my child. Tell me why." His voice was controlled, but she picked up on the thread of excitement that wove its way through it.

She paused. He liked this? The thought sent electricity arcing down her spine and straight to her pussy. She suppressed the shiver that ran down her body in a delicious wave.

"I crave the carnal sins of the flesh, Father, to touch and be touched in return."

"I cannot give you the absolution you seek if you aren't specific, my child. Only the truth will save your soul."

"I have…done these acts, Father. I have touched myself, and let others touch me. I let a man touch me."

"Where, child?" The thread of excitement wasn't hidden anymore; she couldn't blame it on her oversexed imagination. She could see him in her mind's eye, green eyes dark with lust as he slid a long fingered hand over his hardening cock. He palmed himself through his trousers, waiting for her to service him as she had done before. She whimpered at the mental image, squirming on her knees. Almost against her will, she slid her habit up her pale legs, over her knees and up her thighs, exposing her overheated flesh to the chill of the confessional. Even then, it did not stop the ache in her pussy and her imagination.