The morning sun peeked through the stained glass windows of the convent chapel, casting a kaleidoscope of colors across the flagstone floor. Sister Cyn knelt in prayer, her hands clasped tightly before her. But as she gazed up at the crucified Christ above the altar, her mind drifted far from the sacrilegious holiday it was meant to commemorate.

Good Friday. A day for atonement and penance. And yet, all Cyn could think about was sin. Sinful, depraved acts, forbidden to a woman of the cloth like herself. Her body tingled with forbidden arousal.

She pictured the Pope himself appearing in the chapel doorway. Not the frail, elderly man he was in real life, but young and virile, his papal robes tenting obscenely over his rigid manhood. He would stride up the aisle, his eyes boring into Cyn’s lust-addled brain until she was putty in his hands.

“What a good little whore you are,” he would purr, backhanding her across the face. “Stripped of your habits, kneeling on your altar, desperate to have your holes defiled by the Holy Father’s sacred cock…”

Cyn stifled a moan, grinding her thighs together. She could feel her pussy soaking through her plain cotton undergarments. Ashamed, she tried to tear her mind away from the blasphemous fantasy. But it was no use. Her treacherous body urged her on, aching for the Pope’s touch.

In her mind’s eye, he was on her now, tearing away her clothes, exposing her naked and vulnerable. He would take her from behind, she imagined, plunging deep into her dripping cunt while one hand wrapped around her throat.

“Take it,” he would snarl. “Take your punishment, you filthy slut. Open yourself to me, mind and body and soul. Let me fill you with unholy seed!”

Cyn’s hips bucked, rutting against empty air. She couldn’t help herself, she humped the floor, fucking her own hand, imagining it was the Pontiff’s thick member violating her most sacred parts. Lewd squelching noises echoed through the chapel as she brought herself closer and closer to climax.

At the last moment, Cyn forced herself to stop, hovering right on the razor’s edge of release. She couldn’t cum. Not until she had imagined the Pope’s ultimate degradation of her.

Of course, in the throes of her fantasy, the wicked Pope had only just begun. He would flip her over and fuck her worthless face next, forcing her to worship his cock and swallow down his blessed semen. And then, only after he had shot his holy load into her belly, would he allow her the indignity of self-abuse – making her bring herself to the most shameful of orgasms, all for his twisted entertainment.

Cyn shuddered and shuddered, right on the brink. She gave herself to the depravity, rubbing her clit frantically, picturing His Holiness looming over her, his balls tightening…

With a strangled cry, she came. Again and again and again, her body convulsing with silent ecstasy as the blasphemous orgasm tore through her. It seemed to go on forever. When it finally ended, she collapsed bonelessly to the floor, gasping and spent.

For a long moment, Cyn lay there, trying to catch her breath. Slowly, shame crept in to fill the void left by her lust. What was she, to degrade her faith and her body so? She was a nun, for God’s sake – she was meant to be pure, untainted by earthly desires. To want to be fucked by the Pope himself, of all people…

Bile rose in her throat as the full weight of what she’d imagined crashed down on her. Cyn began to weep, hugging herself tight as hot tears streamed down her face. Her treacherous, sinful body quieted, sated for now. But deep down, she knew it wouldn’t be the last time her mind strayed down such wicked paths. She was tainted at her core, a true daughter of Eve.

All Cyn could do was pray for forgiveness. And hope that one day, she might find absolution from her all-consuming, profane hunger. Until then, she would have to live with the knowledge of her own corruption, forced to conceal the wanton harlot within her habit. An eternal trial meant to test her faith and resolve.

One thing was for certain – she would have to flagellate herself extra hard this Good Friday. It was the only way to atone for the depths of her depravity…

Fuck me and then confess later! So give me that sexy call!