A Second Confessional

She is a nun. You can tell by her gait and by the sound of hobnailed boots on the polished stone But she does wear neither rosary nor sabre, and she pulls back a heavy cloak before she begins her invocation: ”Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned.”

Her voice is soft and sultry, a perfumed whisper behind habit and veil. ”Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned. I am at all times beset by lascivious and covetous thoughts. My mind, my loins, desire a carnal touch, and the Nunnery is so far away. In truth, the sweet aid shared with my Sisters would not be enough. I need cock. I want your cock.”

You swallow and begin to mumble a well-worn platitude.

”Forgive me, Father, but where is his Excellency? You are not him and I fear...” She pauses. ”Forgive me, Father, for my hasty words. I am but a humble vessel, and I beg you: Guide me to the light.” She sounds nervous, skittish, and the door handle rattles from her touch.

You try calming honesty. The Heterodox Hierophant has taken you into his confidence, and your body stands ready to offer aid. But you are not sure how.

”Oh, thank the Lord.” She exhales.

Metallic latches click, and she urges you to find the ones on your side. You kneel down and fumble in the dark until you find them. Two pieces of fretwork come loose, leaving a larger hole than you expected.

A slender hand snakes through and finds your legs and crotch. ”Show me!” she whispers, already undoing your belt.

You struggle with your growing hardness and with each button. Then your cock springs free and her hands guide yours along the bulging shaft.

”It feels nice,” she says. ”St. Gerard be praised.” Her open mouth, ruby lips and pearly teeth, peak through the opening. ”I wonder how it tastes,” she says, moaning, and moves her tongue to entice you. ”I am ready for you, Father.”

The final obstacle gives and you push through. She engulfs your veiny cock and slurps along the length.

”Thank you, Father, for your gift.” She gives it another lick. ”Would you pray with me?”

Her clothing rustles and you begin to understand. There is a pillow under the wooden bench, and there must be one on her side as well. You withdraw and are rewarded with the sight of her shaved slit.

”Pray with me!” She begs as eager fingers part her lips, ready for devotion. ”Shatter me, Lord! Shatter me!”

You struggle, your too-large body caught inside the too-small wooden box. The barrier separates and impedes you, but your deliberate thrusts soon have her mewling in gratitude. You long to bury yourself to the hilt, but you can only tease with crown-deep imperfections. She nonetheless squirts her oil over your holy tool.

”Fuck! Than -- Fuu -- ck! Fa -- ther, for -- FUUCK! Your gift.” She slides from your cock, gasping for air. ”Thanks.” Her mouth returns, and she licks her lips. ”Come for me, Father. Anoint me with your cum.”

You can feel the play of her tongue, her lips nuzzled to the shaft. She takes you in and spits you out, again and again, until you anoint her with your seed.

”Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned.” She licks her lips and orders her clothes. ”I made a mockery of the confessional and led a man of the cloth to sin.”

You impose a light penance but remind her that only continued confessions can save her imperilled soul. She laughs, thanks you for your kindness, and begins to mutter the demanded prayers.

A little time has passed.

{if The Passage of Time > 95} Your Time in Barenhaven is running out {elseif The Passage of Time > 80} Your Time in Barenhaven is coming to a close {elseif The Passage of Time > 60} You have some Time left in Barenhaven {elseif The Passage of Time > 50} Your Time in Barenhaven is half-way over {elseif The Passage of Time > 30} You have quite some Time left to spend in Barenhaven {elseif The Passage of Time > 15} You have a lot of Time left to spend in Barenhaven {elseif The Passage of Time > 5} Your Time in Barehaven has just begun {else} You are now spending Time in Barenhaven {endif}

In leaving, you impose order on your rumpled clothing. And up, on the altar, St. Martha’s eyes burn silver in the light of a distant moon.