No

Tossing and turning. You awoke in the middle of the night. Your loins on fire, without even thinking you slip your hand down to your cunt, finding yourself absolutely dripping. You're thoughts drift to your recently experiences, sucking the Thomas the tavernmaster's cock; never in a million years during your time in the abbey would you have ever thought you would see a dick, let alone suck one, you remember the warmth of him realising his seed all over you; dripping your naked body, the demeaning way he treated you, forcing you to call him daddy; without even realising you started rubbing your quim with your fingers.

The alternating between pleasure and pain as he fingered your ass, the sensention of him pistoning his cock in and out of you without a single thought about you, his seed-sack smacking against your cunt; at the time you felt digusted but now it only stimulates your mind to thoughts untravelled. Now you've become aware of the rising intensity of your hand rubbing into you, pleasure rocking through your body; a pious girl would stop, giving into such tempting thoughts was wrong. Being a good pious girl isn't going to help you on your journey you realise. If it wasn't for you using body you would have ended up on the streets tonight and not in this bedroom; and who knows what terrible fate might have befallen on you.

As you tried to find your room, you can't help but remember taking the wrong door, greeted by the sight of one of Thomas' tavern girls being rammed, the man smiling at you as he fucked her. The building heat in your loins as the man pumped that girl full of seed; overfilling her and dripping out all over the floor. You subconsciously start pushing the tip of your finger into your quim.

Seed. You remember the thobbing sensention of Thomas's cock inside your ass, signalling his release. When he pulled out of your ass, you remember giving out a sigh of relief which quickly turned to utter shock and horror as felt him spread open your cunt and placed the tip of his cock into you. Feeling powerless as you watched him deposit his virile seed into your waiting and fertile womb. Your finger starts to vigorously insert in and our of your pussy.

Bragging about placing a child in you, making to sure to spill as much seed into you as possible; right now you know for a fact his seed is still in you; the thought of a blond hair baby being birthed from your very womb in 9 months time, only turns you on further. The utter lust you felt as the warm feeling of his seed settled into you; bringing yourself to a second orgasm right in front of the man; you should feel ashemed for devolving into that mess but you only feel more aroused. Your back arcs as your feet lifts you up; if someone walked into your room right now they be greet by the full display of you fingering your cunt.

Violently, your body shakes as you reached your climax, squirting all your juices all over the lower half of the bed and the nearby floor. You collasped onto your back, taking deep breath; most of the lust that filled you dissipated from your body, leaving only a remnant thobbing deep inside your cervix.

"If I do get pregnant he might as well have fucked me" You muttered to yourself; wishing to least feel the pleasure of being deflowered before becoming a mother, if you do get to Gerlangen and you're visibly pregnant. Whose going to believe you kepted vows, that your still a virgin, when your belly swells up with a strangers seed, nobody that's who.

Whispering a quick prayer, you confirm the continuened existed of your link between you and Burning Rose, it boggled your mind how you still maintain your link. If you were back at the abbey you're certain the war mother and your fellow sister would shun you if they ever learned of this, but instead of feeling shame your mind echoed back to a statement the travernmaster said.

'"Loopholes. If they're there, people are gonna use 'em."' Thomas' words echoed in your head.

'Loopholes' the word continued, a slowly growing craving developed in your mind. Be it craving the seed of a stranger flooding your womb or the craving of thrill and excited of skirting your vows, a now familiar heat relit in your loins. You spend the rest of the trying to quell your lust.