Hands moved up her thighs. She couldn't see them, but she knew that these were no ordinary hands. The fingers were slightly too long, the nails slightly too sharp. There was an animal quality to these hands, a bestiality that frightened her.
And excited her.
They trailed up her now damp skin to the place that ached at the apex of her thighs. The place the nuns told her not to think about. The place Father pretended was not there. The place that the girls in the village would whisper about.
She wanted nothing more than for those hands to part that soaked flesh. She wanted them to burrow deep, to go where no one had ever gone before.
She wanted those hands to fuck her.
*
Anna woke with a start.
Her skin was damp with sweat and her upper thighs were slick with arousal. That place between her legs throbbed in time with her heartbeat as though it was a living thing.
Since she had come to the convent, the dream had plagued her. Night after night. Always the same hands, always the same ending. Never any relief.
Her Father had sent her to the convent in the hills to preserve her purity for marriage after she had turned eighteen. He'd told her to think about her future husband and pray for guidance during this time. She'd tried at first but the dreams had slowly slid into her mind like a slippery snake, and now even during her waking hours she couldn't stop thinking about them.
She was always wet. Her nipples were always hard. She felt like she was constantly on the brink of her sliding her hand beneath her gown and touching that slippery place that seemed to have a life of its own.
Anna hadn't told the other nuns about her dreams. They were all so dour, so serious. She doubted that they would understand. They'd probably make her kneel on the cold floor and recite prayers until the convent crumbled around her.
'Anna, you look tired,' Sister Beatrice said to her over breakfast, her frown deeper than normal.
'I'm fine, Sister. I'm just having some trouble sleeping,' Anna said and kept her eyes downcast.
The hard wood of the bench only seemed to make the liquid heat of her core so much worse. She found herself tilting her hips slightly so that she could press that place a little harder against the wood.
After breakfast, it was time for reflection. As Anna was not a proper nun, she was sent to reflect on her own in a small room away from the other nuns.
She knelt on the cold stone floor and stared with unfocused eyes at the stained-glass window. It was meant to be a design of hands raised in prayer and praise, but all she saw were those hands that touched her thighs at night.
Anna wasn't sure how much time passed before the door opened and Sister Jane quietly walked into the room. She was one of the younger nuns, having taken her vows at twenty. Anna always thought she was pretty and that it was a shame that she hid most of herself beneath her habit.
'Anna,' Sister Jane greeted her.
Anna noticed that there was an almost glazed look to the nun's eyes and her habit was more wrinkled than usual. Sister Beatrice normally demanded constant neatness.
'I heard you were having trouble sleeping,' Sister Jane said to Anna and knelt by her, 'that you were having strange dreams.'
Anna felt her face flush. 'D-Dreams?'
'Don't be ashamed,' Sister Jane leaned close to her and whispered. 'We've all had them.'
'W-What?'
'Sister Beatrice pretends like she doesn't have a cunt, but most of the younger nuns don't.'
Anna felt her mouth fall open. She'd never expected to hear such language from Sister Jane.
'I don't know what they expected, building a convent on a doorway to Hell.'
'D-Doorway to Hell?'
Sister Jane nodded placidly before saying, 'There's a reason they told you not to go out at night, and why we have a curfew. Bad things happen at night.'
With that Sister Jane rose and left Anna staring open-mouthed at the door.
*
'Doorway to Hell,' Anna whispered to herself.
As far as she could remember, she'd been taught about Hell, the Devil and fire. Never doorways to Hell. People didn't normally want to go there.
It was night. The sky was dark and her candle was burning low. The convent enacted a strict curfew, but she had to know. She had to know if Sister Beatrice had been telling the truth.
The corridors were quiet and dark. All the other nuns' doors were firmly closed. The only remotely alive thing in the convent at night seemed to be the bats that gathered in the rafters.
Anna had always thought it strange that there were so many bats in a convent.
She was about to turn back and give up on her exploration when she heard the sound of muffled moaning from one of the prayer rooms. She stopped, caught between her curiosity and her fear.
Her curiosity won.
Anna blew out her candle and carefully crept to the door. It was slightly ajar, so that she could peek inside.
Sister Jane was kneeling on her hands and knees on the stone floor. She was naked and what looked like her shift had been stuffed into her mouth to quieten her moans. Behind her with his trousers down so that Anna could see his naked thighs was the groundskeeper.
