Erotica

No Mercy

I tempted him, Father. I don’t have underwear on, because Sister Mary didn’t do the laundry

“Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned. It has been one week since my last confession. Today, I… I made a man have impure thoughts.”

“My child, a man’s thoughts are his own. The Lord bestowed free will on mankind so they might be the masters of their own actions. You are not responsible for what goes on in anyone else’s mind.”

“But I tempted him, Father. I don’t have underwear on, because Sister Mary didn’t do the laundry.”

“Idleness is Sister Mary’s sin, not yours; you have nothing to confess. Unless you showed yourself to this man?”

“Oh no, Father! But I think he knew anyway. He was in the cloister when I was scrubbing the tiles, and he stood behind me for so long! If my scapular had fallen to the side there would only have been one layer of cloth stretched tightly over the swell of my naked buttocks whenever I moved. And I’m so clumsy when I clean. What if my habit had got wet? Then the fabric might have clung to my feminine form, showing every curve and crevice. It would have been like I was wearing nothing at all. I don’t think this man has ever seen a woman unclothed, so I would have been the one who corrupted him.”

“Is he a young man, then?”

“Oh no. He’s old enough to be my father.”

“My child, you were doing your chores in difficult circumstances. There is no sin in that. It is the man who sinned if he did not look away, if he could not resist the temptations of the flesh.”

“So am I a good girl, Father?”

“You are, my child.”

“But what if I made him think I was a bad girl? What if he believed I went without underwear to tempt him, so he thought I was a debauched woman, a harlot even? He might have imagined pulling me to my feet and bending me over the balustrade so he could beat the badness out of me.”

“Those thoughts would be his and his alone, that he would have to wrestle with. The Lord knows you did not mean to tempt him. If he thought about lifting your habit and spanking — No! That is his sin, not yours.”

“But if he did think about bruising my poor, tender bottom, what if he imagined I was the sort of wicked girl who enjoys being spanked? Then he might have thought about what else he would see, so close to his chastising hand. He might have thought about it, glistening and dripping with juice like the fruit with which Eve tempted Adam. That must be my sin, surely? Temptation?”

“He would only be imagining your… response, my child. He would be compounding his own sin. No blame attaches to you for that.”

“But he might have thought about touching me. Or worse! When he finally left he was in such a rush that I fear I may have tempted him to touch himself, Father. He probably went straight to the most private place he could find, to take out his thingy — ”

“His… penis?”

“Yes. He’d want to take it out, because my sinful body had made it so hard, made it ache so much, that he’d be desperate for relief and he’d just have to touch it.”

“Then he would pray for the Lord’s help to resist that temptation. Probably! I imagine that’s what he’d do. If he were a good man.”

“But what if he couldn’t resist? What if he was a shameless sinner who indulged his basest desires? He might imagine my hand touching him instead of his own. I have such small hands, Father. If he pictured my slim, pale fingers, barely able to wrap around his huge thingy — ”

“You can say ‘penis’, my child.”

“Can I just say ‘thingy’, Father? It’s a strong, sturdy word that’s pleasing to say. I like how ‘his huge thingy’ feels in my mouth.”

“Mmph!”

“Father?”

“Go on, my child. Please!”

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