Boy, do you have some fucked up stories to tell Sister Mary!

For the better part of a quarter of an hour you use your past sexual hi-jinx, perverted imagination, and criminal know-how to put together a series of grossly detailed sexual exploits to rile up Sister Mary and get her mind in the gutter while the destabilizing incense and aphrodisiac powder in her panties do their thing.

You make sure not to use any details that could come back to you, Erin, the Delta Delta sorority, or your criminal network. It doesn’t matter if the nun says she won’t tell anybody, she might spin a different tune after you initiate what you’ve got in store for her… But you change around the details, fabricate names, and, as you talk, you hear that the shifting in Sister Mary’s confessional seat is growing less and less creaky and more and more squelching.

Maybe it’s the heat, the scintillating content, or the combination with the ****, but you can hear that Sister Mary’s undergarments are getting wetter and wetter with perspiration and probably a little bit of pussy juice.

"... then got this girl really drunk at a party, sweet girl too. We broke away from everyone after getting some harder drinks and…"

"… banged out this busty go-getter. Huge rack, killer legs, great shape all around. I didn’t even ask, I just held her down by the neck and pumped my load into her…"

"… girl with real daddy issues. I mean, she needs serious help. But she was just such a willing little slut, nothing I did to her was rough enough or too degrading. Foot on her face, slaps to the tits, all sorts of name-calling…"

"… even though I knew the **** were strong, I kept giving her more and more. She said she could handle it, but she was basically on another planet by the time I slipped inside of her, never bothered to even call her back or follow up."

Sister Mary’s breaths grow more ragged and audible as you continue with your stories. You make sure to keep her involved, prompting her to ask you questions while you spin your semi non-fiction.

"Did… Did that particular girl… Enjoy what you were doing to her?"

"And when you were… 'cock slapping her', did she show any distress, or signal for you to stop?"

"This most recent girl, you said she was in high school but she was 18? And she was sexually experienced, do you think?"

There are other questions as well, morally probing. (Asking if you felt remorse, for example), and then the typical, but more and more hollow, encouragement to seek religious righting, to get on the straight and narrow.

In fact, as your confession nears the 30 minute mark, Sister Mary speaks less and less, and the wooden creaking from her agitated underside becomes more frequent but less wooden, simply wet and sultry.

"Sister Mary, are you feeling OK?" You ask after almost 2 uninterrupted minutes of speaking without hearing from the nun. Oh shit… But you shouldn’t have dropped her name in there…

"No, I mean, I’m fine. Thank you. You… You were saying?"

Sister Mary’s speech is getting slurred and slightly incoherent. She didn’t even pick up that you used her name without her ever telling it to you. The **** have certainly taken an affect on her, and you don’t want to wait much longer.

"Are you sure you’re OK? Your breathing sounds…"

There are heavy, labored breaths audible between the confessional grate, and Sister Mary’s rear end is squirming nonstop against the wood. You can imagine her thick booty sloshing in her own soup on the church wood. The nun manages a weak "I’m fine. Just hot."