Now naked, she once again knelt before the priest. He had stretched his feet out so her knees fell on the outside of them forcing her to keep her legs further apart than was comfortable. Her engorged nipples had stiffened into pretty pink acorns standing out from perfect aureoles. She shuddered as the cool room air reached the moisture that dampened and darkened the hair between her legs, a constant reminder of her nakedness and vulnerability.
"Show me," he whispered hoarsely. "Show me what you've been doing."
Sister Margaret Mary's hand slid over her belly and found the slippery opening as Father McLean's feet urged her knees further apart. She closed her eyes as the carnal nature of what she was doing swept over her.
"Open your eyes. Look at me was you do it," the priest insisted.
She looked at him then as her fingers moved rhythmically in her wet furrow. The scent of her sex surrounded them and embarrassed her deeply but the shame seemingly added to her arousal and confusion. She reveled in the humiliation and wallowed in what she knew was forbidden.
Father stood up, so close to her that her face was inches from the front of his black trousers. "Tell me my child. Have you ever been with a man?"
The young nun was jolted back to a painful memory of her skirt pulled up and her panties around her ankles; Billy Clark's tongue alive in her mouth while his finger probed her sex. He was her high school crush, the sweetheart she yearned for, handsome and popular, and she was the wall flower sitting at home most nights with her books and her dreams.
"Answer me! Confess your sins before God! Father snapped. "Has a man ever taken the pleasure of your body?"
She wouldn't answer. The wet sounds of her fingers squishing through the soft folds of her sex mixed with her intermittent gasps as the too-familiar pleasure built in her loins. Memories of her half-hearted protests as Billy had moved on top of her haunted the image, rekindled the guilt and spurred her fingers to bring back the illicit pleasure she had felt. Every word that the boy had spoken echoed in her mind; every dirty word as her legs had wrapped around his back. She recalled the stabbing pain of his entry and the warm liquids that seeped from her, wetting them both where they were joined, anointing their union, baptizing their bond...
Her face brushed the priest's pasty white thighs and her cheek felt the wet smear of precum. His black trousers were open and the rough wool teased across her swollen nipple as the garment slid down his legs. Her free hand went to hold him, her conscience pleading to push him away, but her belly craving his touch. His hands cupped the back of her head moving her onto him, her mouth never hesitating. He was rough, pushing deep to the back of her throat, making her gag repeatedly, focused only on the pleasure of her loving tongue. He enjoyed her tears and the look of shame that besot her pretty face. The fingers between her legs were stilled as she fell to the task of pleasuring the priest who expected nothing less. Father McLean watched her bobbing head with satisfaction. He knew her mouth had been used before as it would be again and again in the course of her humiliation.
"Have you been the sullied cunt for a man's pleasure before?" he demanded harshly. "Have you spread your wanton legs in the sin of fornication?"
Sister hid her face in the warmth of his groin, inhaling the man smell, pressing her lips against the wrinkled sack, and letting her tongue pay homage to the swell of his balls. Her voice was low and anguished when she answered embracing her contrition and accepting the spirit of her penance. He made her stop frequently and repeat, graphically confessing her sin with every detail until fresh tears ran freely down her cheeks.
"And did you marry to right this wrong? Did you bring this illicit love to the Church to sanctify your union?" he roared at her while she sobbed.
The laughing rejection of Billy Clarke had torn at her soul and Father's questions reopened old wounds. She remembered the snickers of his friends and the off-color remarks that she'd endured. Her phone rang more frequently for dates that she disdainfully turned down, but Billy only called once when he was drunk. He wanted sex. She had listened to his voice and wept silently while he recalled in embarrassing detail what they had done. It was only when she heard the giggling of another girl that she realized he was playing with her, describing each of the slutty things she had done, for the amusement of his latest girlfriend. For many nights she had cried herself to sleep masturbating to the crudeness of his vile words and yearning for his return.
Father was pulling her to her feet, pushing her roughly back against the old oak desk. The wood, cool against her flushed skin, emphasized her nakedness. The priest had kicked out of his trousers and stood triumphantly between her carelessly parted legs. She shielded her eyes as he looked upon her reveling in the pale, smooth skin and the patch of unruly hair that sprang from her mons. She was very wet and the hair matted around her puffy lips exposing more of the fount of her lust to his sight. She moaned when he dipped his finger into her juices and tried to turn away when her wiped it on her mouth. He did it again and pressed his finger against her lips commanding her to suck. With a whimper, she took the wet finger in her mouth.
"Is yours the only cunt you've tasted Sister?" he asked while he watched her clean the juices from his fingers.
Long buried memories of hurt and shame overwhelmed her. The abject humiliation she had felt and then buried as if it had never happened spilled into her conscious thought. The priest's relentless questions flushed long suppressed feelings that she'd kept deep inside. She felt she couldn't answer him and yet no answer was an answer in itself.
"Tell me Sister Whore. Tell me about your Sapphic lust," he roared out at her with a mocking laugh.
"He said he was sorry," she sobbed. "He said he wanted to get back with me. He loved me and I wanted him to be with me, not her. But, I knew the moment it touched my lips. The strong scent and then the musky salty taste was different than the first time. He held my head so I couldn't pull back. 'Suck it good,' he whispered. 'Clean my cock with your tongue. Get all of that nasty stuff off.' The electronic click of his cell phone camera made me moan in anguish. He was talking while I sucked confirming what I was doing. I could hear her laughing through the phone as I cleaned her juices from his cock. I wanted to stop but he wound his fingers in my hair and took his pleasure, cutting off my breath several times as he forced himself deep. I choked and sputtered when he came, filling my mouth with his seed. He held his thumb against my throat so I wouldn't swallow until he had taken the final picture and hit send. Cheryl's squeals of delight when she got it still reverberate in my soul. The picture made its rounds, of course, as did Cheryl's taunting of me in front of her clique, always in earshot of others. They'd all seen the picture and often repeated the awful things Cheryl said. 'open you mouth Baby. Show me whose boyfriend you're blowing now.'"
Sister Margaret Mary's heels gripped the edge of the desk when Father cupped her shapely buttocks in his soft hands. The shaft of his cock rode between her saturated labia grazing the nun's clitoris as he teased her before entering. Her hips moved with him mimicking the act she wanted so badly.
"Put me in," he commanded. "Let this sin be yours."
Her fingers gripped the damp flesh of his cudgel and she guided him to her opening. It slipped in easily and she raised her bottom off the desk straining to take all of him. It felt so good that she moaned with the sheer pleasure of it. The sexless years without a man gave urgency to her effort and her hips rose to meet each thrust ensuring that she captured his full cock each time. The wet slapping of skin on skin and her whimpering filled the room as he pounded into her.
"You're no virgin," he hissed excoriating her with guilt of the obvious. "Your cunt has been sullied by your sinfulness. You spread your legs so easily Margaret Mary and you crave cock. You're God's whore now for the pleasure of His faithful servants. A cunt of convenience ..." he preached a kind of sexual homily that both humiliated and inflamed the young nun. She came with a gasp and the forbidden words rolled off her tongue imploring him "Fuck me...fuck me father for I have sinned." Back arched and belly raised she surrendered herself fully to him.
Father marveled at the lust she showed. His fingers gripped and regripped the smooth sweaty globes of her ass and tugged at the shapely cheeks exposing the pink whorl between them. He could see that it embarrassed her. When he pressed his middle finger against her back door he felt her jump. Again he touched it and she moaned and tried to wriggle away. It was wet all around from her abundant juices. The next time he pushed inside to the first knuckle and she squealed and tried to tighten her cheeks to expel the probing digit. The sensation was forbidden and unexpected yet not unpleasant. The young nun moaned in mortification. Even Billy Clark had never touched her there.
She knew about anal sex and had seen pictures of it in that filthy magazine but had never even thought it could happen to her. Father's finger in her bum felt foreign and lewd and she whined at the depravity. He chuckled at her misplaced modesty while he enjoyed the shame she was feeling.
The priest kept moving in her cunt and she rolled her own clit between her fingers while her breath hissed through her teeth at the wicked sensations in her behind.
"He didn't bum fuck you?" Father McLean sneered. "A willing little tramp like you and he didn't shove his cock up your ass?"
The embarrassed nun just shook her head in shame. She couldn't tell whether he meant it as disbelief or as another way Billy Clark had rejected her.
Sister Margaret Mary didn't try to stop the priest when he sodomized her. She squealed loudly at the pain but accepted it as penance for her depravity. Father held her hips and pushed in a little at a time until she could feel his coarse pubic hair against her upturned buttocks. Her own fingers still straddled her clitoris coaxing the pink bud from its hood and teasing it the way she liked. Father's voice, strained with passion, urged her on using all of the dirty names she knew she had earned. His fingers mauled her breasts pinching the nipples mercilessly, inflicting the pain she knew she deserved. At his insistence she begged him to fuck her in all of her holes even as her sphincter burned with the roughness of his pleasure.
"You're a whore now, the reincarnation of Mary Magdellan" he whispered, "sent to relieve the lusts of whoever I send you to see. Your vow of chastity is rescinded and your new vow will set you free to fuck as the Lord created you to do. Your mouth has tasted both man and woman, and it will again."
