Her Unfaithful Body Betrays Her

The confessor invited her to begin her confession in a soft, soothing voice to encourage Magdalene and show her that she was in a safe space where she could reveal her fears and sins.

“My daughter, God sees your heart and knows your struggles. It is good that you have come here to lay this burden before Him. The Lord is merciful and always ready to forgive those who sincerely repent. Speak freely and without fear. The Lord is with you, and through this sacrament he wants to give you his peace.”

Suddenly her mouth was dry as dust and her throat was tight. Could she really trust the Father with everything that was bothering her? Of course she knew that the sacrament was holy and that he would never break his vow of silence. And yet she was full of fear. If she revealed her desires and newly discovered physical wants to him, he might come to the conclusion that she was unsuitable for the veil. And in her opinion, it would be even more dangerous to tell him that she believed she had encountered a demon. It could either make him doubt her sanity. Or - even worse - he might believe her and be **** to subject her to an exorcism.

Out of concern and doubt, she decided - in defiance of the rules to be observed as a nun - to keep the episode with the appearance of her likeness and the subsequent developments quiet for the time being. Surely this disobedience would burden her conscience even more than it already was. But she shied away from the final and most terrible consequence, namely that she could be expelled from the Order if she revealed her dark secret too quickly. She wanted to lock it up in her heart and suffer the guilt she would have to bear from then on as a just punishment until she could finally reveal the truth at the end of her days and ask God for forgiveness.

In a quiet voice, increasingly choked with tears, she recounted her dream and the physical transgressions it entailed. She was deeply ashamed and felt how difficult it was for her to say it word for word. She realized with horror that it wasn't just bias and moral decency that took her breath away. No, her unfaithful body was also betraying her by starting to relive the memories she was telling, as if she were experiencing everything all over again. She was sweating profusely and grew increasingly restless. She clasped her hands in her black outer garment to prevent any careless movement.

And it wasn't just the smell of pungent sweat that reached her nose with every breath. Another strong scent also rose from her lap and overpowered everything else. The aroma was so intense that she thought the confessor would inevitably notice it through the woven partition. What would he think of her?

As a priest, he was celibate and might not even be able to identify the origin of the scent. She fervently hoped that she was lucky in that regard. The mere description of her nocturnal sin must have given him the impression that she was a depraved woman. If he also realized that she couldn't keep her lust in check even in the confessional, his judgment of her would have to be harsh and final.

Breathlessly, she listened to see if she could detect any reaction from him beyond an occasional word of encouragement for her to continue. She heard his surprisingly loud panting and a rhythmic rustling of fabric, as if he was hastily moving his cassock.

She didn't know what to make of these perceptions. But her overstimulated imagination immediately conjured up an image of the venerable man engaged in an activity that was extremely unseemly and inappropriate to his status. She had never seen anything like this in her life. And yet she knew clearly what was happening. Where did this vivid image come from?

Her hands detached themselves from the fabric and gathered her skirts upwards as if they had developed a life of their own. Intuitively, they found the spot on Magdalena's body that was most eager to be touched. Quickly and demanding, they danced over the delicious pearl and sank into the moist valley beneath. Again and again they moved to the nun's quivering lips to absorb saliva and in return let her tongue lick up the delicious taste of her rose.

Meanwhile, she struggled haltingly, but to the best of her ability, to continue recounting what was inextinguishably burned into her memory. Every sentence intensified the frenzy that inexorably carried her towards the end. With a raspy voice and hot breath, she confessed:

“And ... and then ... ah ... then overcame ... then the ... a-aah ... the biggest ... uh-uh-ah ... the greatest happiness ... uuaaaaAAAAAA!!!!”

A gush of liquid poured down between her legs, leaving telltale and almost indelible marks on the wall in front of her and on the floor beneath her.

Despite the stars in her eyes and the roaring in her ears, she thought she heard the Father moan loudly just an arm's length away from her, rise to his feet and then slump down.

What had she done?