Men are men, vows are words, and words are wind. – George RR Martin
Father Oswald’s most difficult challenge as a priest was hearing confessions from women recounting their carnal sins. At times it was torturous for him to listen to young females conflicted by guilt pouring out revelations of their sexual desires and transgressions. No matter how hard he tried to deny his impulses, the padre was frequently aroused by these deep secrets murmured in the dark shadows of the confessional booth. In twenty-two years, these roilings in his soul had never caused him to break his vow of celibacy, but he did occasionally falter in fantasyland.
It was even more troublesome when he recognized the penitent, as he did when Sister Mary Marilyn, a devoted second-grade teacher at the parish school, began to confess to him twice a month at his Saturday night absolution duty. In the beginning, she spoke in general terms, but after a few months, she revealed that all her sexual fantasies focused on him alone. He was stunned, but the Catholic priestess could intuitively sense that his nervous efforts to chastise her were obstructive barriers with weak foundations. Her desire for him evolved into an obsession she was unable to arrest.
In a later Penance, the young nun progressed to touching herself in the booth while whispering passionate entreaties to her confessor. The clergyman tried to stifle his excitement by giving the straying sister corrective lectures with heavy penances to perform. These measures did not deter her from making three more false efforts at atonement in which her practice of admitting to her sins while masturbating became more explicit. During her third confession, the Father lost his struggle with the enemy within. He ejaculated as he rubbed his penis through his clothes while listening to the sister describing her desire for him. His shame consumed him for days afterward.
The Church hierarchy has always concentrated authority in male hands. Female members on the ladder of power are, at best, pawns. Thus it was easy for the guilt-ridden priest to secretly pull the necessary strings to have this Bride of Christ relocated to a parish thousands of miles away at the end of the school year. He didn’t even need to state the reason for the transfer.
The day before the sister was scheduled to leave was a Sunday. At 11 am, Father Oswald was in his studio apartment at the rectory putting on his priestly vestments in preparation for celebrating the noon Mass. While dressing in the mirror, he heard the door to the hallway open and close. Turning around, he saw a hooded figure in a black overcoat locking the door.
“May I help you?”
The religious novitiate walked up to the Father she idolized, stopping three feet in front of him. In one smooth motion, she threw off the coat, tossing it to the side. Sister Mary Marilyn was naked except for the four-inch crucifix on a silver chain dangling between her breasts.
“Father, I am leaving tomorrow. Before I go, I want to give myself in love to you.”
The priest froze in terror. This sensual young woman who had inspired such intense cravings was openly offering herself to him. He was now standing at the crossroads of conscience and desire. At forty-seven, this disciple of Jesus had dedicated his entire adult life to Church principles, sacrificing the pleasures of the flesh to honor his sacred vow of celibacy. He quivered with fear as he felt his fortitude to resist temptation draining out of him.
While gazing into the adoring eyes of this beautiful vestal virgin, the Father surrendered his will, succumbing to the forbidden fruit. He removed his shirt. The sister fell into his arms, pressing her breasts into his naked chest. The die was cast. No power on earth could have separated the two. Their wildly throbbing hearts increased the ferocity of their unfettered desires. They both ached to experience feelings they thought would be forever denied to them.
The couple joined their mouths in deep, bruising kisses that immediately stoked their raging passions to ethereal heights. Neither wanted the softness of gentle lovemaking. The two virgins needed to release their lifelong sexual suppression with primal savagery. They both also knew that this would be a one-time connection that they must consummate with urgency. There would be no holding back, for there would be no tomorrow.
The frenzied nun tore at his clothes until he shared her nakedness. She jumped into his arms, wrapping her legs tightly around him, pulling him close, digging her nails into his skin, drawing blood that oozed onto both of them. In return, he bit into the soft tissue of her shoulder, opening a gash. They each realized the necessity of screaming quietly, as there were voices and footsteps in the hallway just a few feet away.
The renegade priest slammed his lover into the carpet, mounting her with a vicious thrust that quickly turned into a relentless pounding. He ejaculated almost immediately, coating her vagina with gobs of thick semen. There was not even a momentary pause in the rhythm as the deep penetration continued, launching them both into silent mind-bending orgasms that convulsed their bodies from head to toe. He continued the hard fucking until his third orgasm left them breathless and bloodied in a sweat-soaked heap of cum-splattered flesh.
A knock on the door brought them back to reality. “Father Oswald, five minutes to showtime, Sir!”
The obsessed priest went through four months of emotional self-torture, finally releasing himself from the agony of his guilt when he confessed his fornication in a Penance with the monsignor. He experienced spiritual redemption. The next day, he learned that Sister Mary Marilyn had been relieved of her teaching duties. Two days later, another email arrived, stating that she had died from hemorrhaging a massive amount of blood after she had aborted her unborn child with a coat hanger.