Father Lucius towered in early morning light of the chapel. When he saw Syncletia, he quickly pulled his deep, dark hood over his head, but not before she caught a glimpse of his perfectly bald head, austere features, and of course, the intricate gothic cross tattooed over his entire face. It was tradition that during the sacraments, the priests should stay out of sight. They were only representatives- the nun’s sacrament was with God.
The priest wore the robes of his order, a dark and featureless shroud that left everything but his height and the width of his shoulders to the imagination. It was bound at the waist with prayer beads, which dangled almost all the way to his bare feet. Of course one piece of flesh remained visible- his ruddy and girthy cock, this jutted through his robes. Despite its mass, looking like the tensed muscles of a work horse and sporting a fat, fist-sized cockhead, it rose toward the sky almost to the level of his chest.
It was clear what Father Lucius had been up to, for the trail of spent jizz told the story. Thick, sticky webs of it dangled from the bobbing flesh, stretching off half of its length, and dangling to the floor. There, a slimy trail led up the stairs to the altar.
Two Eucharistic ministers, young aspirants into the order of nuns, were there, on their knees, faces on the floor. These two were new; fine, pretty fair-skinned sluts, actual sisters, if Syncletia’s memory served. Their asses pointed up into the air, and their lithe backs arched down to the floor, where their tits were pressed tightly and their limp tongues lolled out onto the floor. Like all altar servants, they were blindfolded with thick black cloth and totally shaved, even their heads. Gold manacles led from their delicate necks to the altar. Aspirants would have to serve this way for a whole year, proving their devotion, until they could be allowed to study to join the order.
They seemed to be floating between conscious states. They breathed deeply, and perspiration rolled down their soft skin. The trail of spent cum crossed both asses and dangled between them. They gaped wide revealing a pool of pearly white spunk in each one. Syncletia gasped at the sight. Their petite but round and pouty asses looked like they had been split wide. No wonder the sisters now drooled onto the chapel floor, half-conscious and swooning.
“Breaking in the aspirants, Father?” asked Syncletia. “Good. Be hard on them; the order wants only the sluttiest cum dumps.”
Father Lucius waved a hand, totally ensconced in his deep dark sleeves. “Never mind them, my child. It has been so long since your last confession. I’m glad you are the first to see me this morning. Come, make your confession that you may be forgiven, for you will soon have to travel, and you cannot leave these walls with sin in your heart.”
Like a ghost, the figure of Father Lucius disappeared into his half of the confessional booth, the gooey webs of cum snapping off as he moved. When the young aspirants awoke, they would have the duty of cleaning the chapel floor with their tongues.
The booth was small enough that only two people could enter, separated by an intricate metal screen. Lucius sat on the ebony wood on his side, and Syncletia joined him on hers. From inside, the faintest whisper could be heard, and they were shut off from the outside world. Syncletia looked around the dark wooden chamber. There were sliding screens all around her, at eye level. She knew each one could be dropped open from the outside to reach through, or to feed her a horny cock for her penance.
Syncletia had to remove her beaded butt plug before she could sit down. Of course, the slutty nun worked it in and out a bit first, moaning softly, but loud enough for Lucius to hear. She removed it with a pop! and whimpered a little in disappointment. Still, she could hardly fit in the confessional without sitting down. “Bless me father, for I have sinned. It has been three weeks since my last confession.” Syncletia thought of her dream- the horned shadow and the cross, the flames and the thorns, and wondered if she should tell him.
“Yes, my child. Now, what do you have to confess?”
The slutty nun closed her eyes and clutched her two round tits in her hands, hefting them as she thought on her sins. “I watched the monks in their seminary, jacking their cocks and I… I didn’t help them,” she said with some shame mixed with the pleasure of the memory.
“Oh?” Came the reply from behind the screen. “What did you do instead?”
“I just fucked myself with my dildo. I’m sorry father, I know I should have made them cum myself but it was just… just so hot watching them all pump their cocks together!” Syncletia spread her legs and relived the memory, hidden in the garage loft, pleasing herself while the brothers coaxed out their morning prayer in the courtyard below.
“I see. That is a serious sin, Syncletia,” he said stoically. “What else?”
The image of the horned shadow filled her mind, but she shook it off. “When Sister Aletta and I were sucking off Miseto…”
“Miseto… the groundskeeper?”
“Yes. It was Sister Aletta’s turn to drink his cum but I... grabbed his cock and stuffed it into my throat, so that he filled my belly with it instead of hers.” By now, Syncletia was bending her thong away from her sopping cunt and swirling two fingers over her pierced clit without shame. The memory of the swarthy and fat-cocked laborer’s jizz getting her to the brink of orgasm. She remembered Aletta’s pouting face as the young man filled her belly for the day.
“That was very greedy of you, Syncletia. Please go on.”
“I have been reading in the library, Father. The books about the kinds of demons- the illustrations. I’ve been pleasuring myself to them, and imagining what it would be like to fuck one.”
At this, Lucius’ sober tone turned reprimanding. “Syncletia, that is no harmless fantasy. Those monsters turn many women away from God, even avowed nuns such as yourself. They abandon the church and become the fuck toys of the demons for the rest of their lives.”
“I’m sorry father,” she whimpered, eyes closed shut, teasing herself to the edge of orgasm, wondering if the horned shadow was there for her, to make her his sex toy for ever more. “I know it’s wrong, I just…”
“You must never read those books again,” Father Lucius said sternly. “In fact, avoid the library altogether. A slut like you should spend her days in devotion, worshiping the cocks of men. Understand?”
With tremendous willpower, Syncletia pulled her fingers away from her dripping pussy and held both hands against the walls, beside her head. Panting, her elbows pushed her big bouncing tits together and she drooled down onto her cleavage. Legs spread wide, her body convulsed as she resisted a slutty orgasm here and now, confessing her sins.
Father Lucius cleared his throat. “You should come to confession more often, Syncletia. Do not let these sins torment your soul. Come to me and receive your penance.”
“Yes! Father,” she breathed, bosoms heaving.
“Now, for your penance. Say the rosary twelve times, please twelve cocks, and forgo the morning meal for twelve days. Think about what you have done.”
“Yes father.”
“Some of the brothers of the monastery are here to give you a start,” he said. “And of course I too, will be willing to help you.”
At that, all the compartments slid open at once and candlelight poured into the small confessional in shafts. Syncletia gasped. Father Lucius’ solid and throbbing cock extended into the booth, just over her cleavage. Slowly it entered, inch after thick, pulsing inch, until the turgid and sexy cockmeat nearly touched the opposing wall. It bobbed there, just over her tits. Syncletia’s eyes went wide, and, untouched, she came, trembling and moaning like the slut she was at the sight of it so close.
