I walked in step with Sister Samantha toward the back of the chapel where the confessional booth stood in the shadows. She filled the air with nervous small talk, detailing the long list of chores that demanded her attention for the day. I listened, but my eyes remained on her; I could almost tell what her confession would be before we even reached the heavy wooden structure.
When we arrived, she slipped inside her side of the booth. The wooden lattice separated us, hiding her from view, but it couldn’t block her presence.
I could sll the faint scent of her soap and see the shimring, golden glow of her aura bleeding through the cracks in the woodwork. I closed my eyes for a mont, imagining her exactly as she was: on her knees, praying, her habit pulled taut over her curves.
I shoved my hand into my trousers. It gave a perverse pleasure to tease and touch my veiny mber as Sister Samantha began to bare her soul through the partition.
"Bless , Father, for I have sinned," she began, her voice trembling. "I t with a stranger last night, and allowed him to touch . What’s worse, I enjoyed his touch. I even touched his... his thing with my feet. And I didn’t really feel ashad of it."
The guilt in her voice was thick. "I’m sorry for these sins and all the sins I cannot rember. Please, Father, is there any advice you can offer?" she asked plaintively.
I cleared my throat, making the sound resonate in the small space.
"So, you teased a man with your feet, then left him to suffer with his arousal? And you felt pleasure in that power?"
"No, I didn’t an it that way. I an—"
"Are you reiterating defenses for your sinful feelings, Sister Samantha?" I interrupted.
"No, Father. It’s just..."
"Is it your habit to indulge these impulses? You’re a naughty girl, aren’t you?"
"Not at all!" she countered, her voice earnest. "That’s why I’m here. I want to remain pure. I want to be faithful."
"Really now?" I let the words drag, dripping with skepticism. "Then you wouldn’t oppose a test of your faith, would you?"
"A test?"
I didn’t answer with words. I stepped through the curtain into her side of the lattice where she knelt. She looked stunned by my sudden intrusion, but she remained silent, looking up at with wide, searching eyes.
"Yes, a test indeed," I murmured. "The body doesn’t lie, Samantha. I must know how yours behaves when the temptation of a man’s touch is real."
I stretched out a hand, softly cupping her cheek and forcing her to look directly into my eyes. I saw a shiver of nervousness in her gaze, and for so reason, that innocence only made more excited.
I dragged my hand slowly down her neck to her shoulder. She was stiff as a plank. When I reached her chest, I grazed my palm over the round mounds hidden behind her heavy habit.
"Father... what are you—?"
"Shhhhhh," I whispered, silencing her. "This is a test, Sister Samantha. To prove your innocence. But if you don’t want this, you can stop right now."
She kept quiet, swallowing audibly as she pondered her choice. She knew if she refused the test, it would only confirm she was truly sinful in her heart. Slowly, she nodded. "I-it’s okay, Father. Go on ahead with the test!"
A grin threatened to break across my face, but I kept it hidden. I had to push her further.
First, I reached out and removed her veil, taking a mont to admire her face before I shoved my hand inside the neckline of her habit.
I reached around her back, fumbling for a mont until I found the clasp of her bra. With my expert fingers, I unclasped the damn thing with no effort and pulled it out from the front.
She looked incredibly nervous as I dropped the black bra onto the floor.
"Now," I muttered, crouching so I was eye-level with her. "Tell again. You teased this man with your feet? What did you touch, exactly?"
Her cheeks flushed a deep, bruised crimson. "I... I touched his... his male organ."
"Hmmm, that’s a bit clinical, Sister. It’s important that we be open and approachable with our language during the test. Try saying: ’I teased his big erect cock with my slutty feet.’"
Her blush deepened, her mouth widening into an ’O’ of shock. "Father! I could never!"
She let out a sharp "Ouch!" when I reached out and twisted her nipple hard through her clothes.
"You’re being a bad girl," I admonished her. "Do as I say."
I could see the words ’bad girl’ strike a chord in her. She looked resistant, but she fought the sentint.
For soone as pure as her, I imagine she had never been called a bad girl in her life. As she prepared to speak the words, I saw her SF level rising to 83%, aning she was aroused; the golden aura was beginning to flicker.
"I teased... his... his..."
"Length. Or dick, if that’s easier for you," I said.
"His dick..." she finally managed to whisper.
"Is that all? I feel you’re omitting the best parts. What else?"
I began to cup her breasts, rolling her nipples between my thumbs. She bit her lip, trying to stifle a moan.
For a woman who had spent thirty years as a virgin with no erotic experience, my small assault was enough to drive her crazy. Her skin was getting hotter to the touch.
Her eyes began to tear up, and the golden aura around her started to crumble. She let go of her lip and confessed, "I also... let him lick my feet. It felt wonderful."
"Wonderful enough that you wanted him to lick your pussy, too?"
"God, no!" she gasped, her eyes wide with horror.
"I think you’re a slut, Sister. Your body says so. Your breath is shallow. Your heart is racing. You love this, don’t you?"
She looked at with pure terror.
Sothing was rising fast inside her, an unfamiliar urge that she couldn’t control. She was dancing toward an edge I was pushing her closer to. She looked terrified of what might happen if she fell over it.
Antsy, she began shifting uncomfortably, rubbing her thighs together. Her toes curled of their own volition as she glanced back up at .
When our eyes t, I inched my face so close she could feel my breath. She tried to turn away, but I grabbed her chin and forced her to look at . I leaned in until my lips lightly brushed hers, then I pulled her habit up while l opened her thick thighs apart for so my hand could slide inside.
My fingers found a damp in her cotton panties.
"Hmm... you’re wet, Sister! Are you perhaps failing the test?"
She gasped. "N-no, Father. I’m not!!"
"Really now? How about I do this!"
I began rubbing up and down against her drenched panties, teasing her clit.
She squeezed her eyes shut as my fingers worked. Her breathing grew frantic, her chest heaving. My tongue snaked out to trace her lower lip before I sucked it into my mouth. Her orgasm was coming fast, a wave building toward the shore.
But she couldn’t let it crest.
Suddenly, she slapped my hand away. Sister Samantha shot to her feet, snatched her bra off the ground, and spun around to face .
"Pervert!" she shouted, pointing an accusatory finger. "There is no test! You’re just... so lecher!"
She turned and bolted from the confessional, the curtain fluttering in her wake.
I stayed there in the dark, letting out a low, dark chuckle. Her golden aura was almost gone, worn down to a thin, grey thread.
She was so close to breaking.
Tbc
Reviews
All reviews (0)