Chapter 6
Chapter Six
Iskipped my nightly bedtime prayers that evening. There would be no kneeling over my thin, narrow bed, cold hands clutched, counting my blessings and blessing others in the dark of my room.
No, I surmised that god did not want to talk to me.
To be honest, I didn’t really want to talk to god either.
That was wrong to admit, as a nun, wasn’t it?
Sin or not, honesty was a virtue, and I did attempt to be honest with myself.
As a holy woman, it was a part of my job to recognize what lurked within me and wash it clean so that, in turn, I could help regular people do the same.
How could I even pray to god when every time I closed my eyes, I recounted a gorgeous pair of tits, blue eyes, rounded hips, and a perfect peach of an ass?
Unfortunately, those breasts I held in my palms and that velvet-soft skin belonged to my newfound Sister in Christ. A visitor from The Abbey of Silent Damnation.
A church that Reverend Mother had warned was quite stringent in their beliefs and regulations.
Every convent was, to my knowledge, though some more or less than others.
However, no church or abbey, to my knowledge, was as…
liberated… as the oasis I’d found here with these sisters and Veilentine, our convent leader.
Even the priests who visited were hands-off and detached in their dealings with us.
They preferred to speak with our Reverend Mother and stick to teaching us a few times a week in preparation for Sunday Mass.
Sundays were a big day for us, for all holy people, really.
It’s when the entire town would join us in prayer, sacrament, and worship.
The church was full on those days. Every pew overfilled, children laughing, babies crying, mothers shushing, husbands nodding off.
I liked Sunday Mass.
The way the hallow sanctuary filled from floor to balcony. Pink, orange, and white light washing in from the stained-glass windows around ten a.m. as we sang comforting hymns of heaven, salvation, and redemption.
To see the women from town in their fresh, pressed dresses…
watching them get down on their knees at the altar…
admiring as they took holy sacrament from the priest’s fingers.
They’d part their lips as he placed the wafer on their tongues and tilted a shared goblet of wine into their mouths… well, that didn’t hurt, either.
I recalled the Sunday service shortly after I came to serve permanently at Lost Souls.
I’d been watching those very things take place when Iris Maison, a mother and seamstress from Howl Moor, knelt at the altar in prayer.
My gaze fell to her backside as she lowered onto her knees, her green floral dress pulling around her ass, accentuating every glorious dip and divot.
When I’d pulled my attention away, Reverend Mother Veilentine was staring at me. She’d saw the whole thing, the flash of desire across my face, the clear want and need that no vows or sermons could speak out of me. My stomach clenched and I prepared for the worst.
It’s how I ended up being sent away from my first home church, Communion of Hope’s Blood.
I didn’t miss the severity of Hope’s Blood, though, the agony of feeling as if I’d failed in my time there still haunted me.
Reverend Mother knew that; she had known why they’d sent me here for her to deal with, to rectify my sinful ways and make me into a good nun.
Fear poured into me when she first called me to her office after that first Sunday Mass.
She knew.
Reverend Mother knew why I’d been sent: my wandering eyes, my longing temptations, the way I couldn’t help but stare at every woman who came across my path.
Hope’s Blood had discovered my desires and sent me away. Where would Lost Souls send… a lost soul?
To my shock, however, the reprimanding Reverend Mother would bestow upon me would be that of physical pain, agonizing control, and unearthly ecstasy.
“You need a teacher,” she’d said, hands folded behind her desk, her robes and habit steamed fresh and pristine. “I will be your good shepherd and you my lamb. You will obey me, serve me, and I shall train you in the way you should go, Sister Jezebella. Would you like that?”
My mouth had fallen open slightly as I nodded my agreement, still not sure if she was truly implying what I thought she was—what I’d hoped she was.
Reverend Mother Veilentine had smiled warmly then before standing and walking around to my side of the desk.
She leaned against the mahogany, her knees brushing against mine.
The small bit of contact sent a flurry of desire coursing through my core, and I struggled to control my breathing beneath the flickering candlelight of her dim office.
“I’m going to teach you for as long as you want me to.
Just as I have with the errant little nuns before you.
As you progress, our sessions will evolve.
You will experience depths of pleasure you didn’t know existed.
Is that something that you want with me, Sister Jezebella?
” Veilentine tilted her head, drawing out every word with slow seduction.
My words had died in my throat.
It could have been a cruel test of my vows—but I didn’t even take the time to consider that fully. Not with the way Reverend Mother’s hips and thighs expanded as she sat against her desk. She parted her knees for me slightly in quiet, hidden invitation.
My mouth watered instantly.
I didn’t need to think it over.
I nodded. “Yes, yes, yes. I would like that—I would more than like that. Please, yes. I do.”
Reverend Mother let out a small chuckle.
“Well, then…” She took my chin between her thumb and forefinger. “Let us begin now.”
That was our first session.
My first lesson.
The first time I’d tasted a woman.
I’d been dependent on our meetings ever since.
Often, they were once a week, sometimes I’d be blessed with two.
Each time something inside me felt lighter, sated, and more whole.
I needed my Reverend Mother’s teachings.
Those moments grounded me to the earth and freed me towards the heavens all at once.
It’s why I felt desperate to keep them and not lose those sessions.
Either a newcomer lurked a while and returned to their home church or…
a visitor decided to stay and replace me.
Was that how it worked? Would Sister Lilith become the new errant nun needing to be whipped into shape by Reverend Mother?
The thought made my vision cloud and shoulders tight.
Though, was my reaction due to Reverend Mother possibly touching another…
or was it the thought of Lilith being claimed by someone besides me?
Veilentine had been with others. I’d suspected she’d trained Delilyx and Pandorian at some point, if not still actively.
I was almost positive of it. Though, one of the rules of her teachings was that we could not speak of our sessions outside of the confines of those moments with her.
I’d always wanted to ask my Sisters in Christ if they’d gone through their time with Reverend Mother the same as I was.
Though, with the way Pandorian and Delilyx looked at one another, their gentle teasing and casual touches, perhaps they didn’t have need of such sessions.
With the promise that I wouldn’t speak of my time alone with Veilentine, and the fear of losing the strange dynamic we had, I kept my mouth shut.
Delilyx, Pandorian, and Veilentine spoke nothing of it either.
Nuns were great secret keepers, after all.
Lilith had asked me to keep us a secret, too.
Well, I wasn’t sure there was an us to speak of, but we’d done something together.
Something intimate, something so different from the encounters I’d have with Reverend Mother.
I half wondered if I should break my promise to the newcomer and tell Veilentine what had transpired in the lake.
Though something inside me paused at the thought and decided against it.
If it angered or concerned the leader of the convent, that could jeopardize everything for me.
Why risk my life here over one fleeting moment between strangers?
Sister Lilith would come and go, and I would remain at The Altar Church of Lost Souls, and all would be well.
Now, I just had to avoid her in the meantime.
Avoiding temptation, I soon found, was much easier when the allure was locked outside the convent gates.
But this one had gotten inside the fortress.
Sister Lilith had slithered under the fence like the snake from the Garden of Eden.
Enticing me and looking up at me with big blue eyes begging to be ensnared.
Avoiding temptation could prove impossible when it glided down the very halls I occupied.
Temptation wasn’t meant to be whispering prayers next to a nun.
Desire wasn’t supposed to come dressed in a black tunic and head covering.
Yet, somehow, here we were… and I feared the worst of the snake’s seduction was yet to come.