Page 18 of The Fallen

“Very well. Lie down on the bed so that your head faces the wall and your feet dangle toward the floor.”

I make no hesitation to obey him. My body trembles as I lie there, watching him rummage about in his desk. When he returns, he holds up a ruler.

“Growing up in your convent, I’m sure this implement was used on you quite a bit, wasn’t it?”

“No, Father Confessor. Despite evidence to the contrary, I was a good girl. Only on rare occasions did the Nuns have to rap my knuckles.”

His low chuckles bring more arousal between my thighs, making me burn until I fear I will pass out from the massive need coursing through my veins. With great trepidation, I hold out my hand and turn my face, squinting as I prepare for the sharp sting.

“Oh no, my little reprobate,” he murmurs, running his long fingers up my shin. “Your hand will not be receiving the punishment today, seeing as it has no blame cast upon it. You are telling the truth when you say you did not touch yourself, correct?”

“Yes, Father Confessor. I am in earnest.” I gulp as the heat of his hand scalds me through the cloth.

“Then pull up the hem of your habit. Let me see just how wet and penitent your pussy is.”

Again, my heart pounds in my chest as I move to obey him. As I bare myself to his gaze, he grabs me from behind the knees and plants my feet on the bed. With one wrenching move, he spreads my thighs, revealing just how shamefully wet I am.

“Grip your knees. You will not close your legs until your punishment is done. If you do, I will send you to your room without absolution. Am I clear?”

My answer bursts from my lips on a lurid moan. “Y- yes, Father Confessor.”

“That’s my good girl.”

His fingers are warm as they skim over my sensitive flesh, making me squirm under his touch. I tighten my hold to not disobey him. Not when I’m so close to getting the relief I need.

“So wet,” he groans, dipping his finger into my entrance.

Like last time, he doesn’t go all the way. He stops just short of dipping inside. “Do you know why I don’t fully impale you with my finger?”

“No, Father Confessor.”

“Because you still have some of your virginal barrier left. There’s not much, no doubt because of how robust you are in how you live, but there’s enough that you possess a rare proof of your virtue. To rob you of that so carelessly would be a sin even I won’t commit.”

Heat fans my face at his words, but I remain silent, concentrating more on the feeling of his fingers rather than on any needless retort.

“Agnes,” he murmurs, easing in another finger until he stretches me open a bit. “Do you know the meaning of the holy name given to you?”

“I- I think so?” I stammer, my mind splintering from the sensations he pulls from me.

“Chaste, virtuous things you are not, but I assume you wish to be. Tell me, my paragon of chastity, why did you stay in the convent?”

As I think through my answer, he withdraws his fingers and glides the sodden tips along my clit, eliciting a ragged moan from my lips.

“Answer, or I stop.”

“I cannot. I have no answer for you, other than it’s all I knew. It’s what I was supposed to do.” My breaths come in haggard gasps as I watch him between my thighs.

He doesn’t even look at my face when I answer. He’s more consumed with my intimate area.

“I see.”

The smack of his fingertips against my clit catches me off guard. The hysteric yelp I’ve been holding at bay breaks loose, shattering the silence. I nearly let go of my thighs but catch them before they can actually close.

“How you tempt me, vision of chastity. How your innocence calls to me, demanding I rip it from you and possess you, body and soul.”

Again, he smacks my sensitive flesh, but this time, instead of crying out, I end up moaning. The sound is decadent and erotic, sinful in the extreme.

“Seems this little lamb likes a bit of pain. Can’t be a punishment if you enjoy it.” He holds up the ruler so I can see it.

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