As I kneel in prayer, my habit a symbol of my devotion to the Lord, I find my mind consumed by the most un holy of thoughts. The whispered confessions of my fellow nuns, the fervent prayers of the congregation, all serve as a backdrop for my own secret desires. I crave the forbidden, the sinful, and the unholy. My Lord may forgive me, but I fear the wrath of my sisters.
My nights are filled with visions of the men I’ve sworn to serve. The handsome young priests, the pious bishops, all are objects of my darkest fantasies. I imagine them, their robes torn, their bodies bared, their faces contorted in ecstasy. The sin, the shame, the guilt, all are deliciously intoxicating. And yet, I know I must conceal this side of myself, lest my reputation be tarnished, and my faith be questioned.
But what of the devil’s role in my sin? Some might say that my desires are the work of the enemy, a temptation to be resisted. But I know the truth. My desires are not of the devil, but of my own flesh. They are a manifestation of my humanity, a reminder that even the holiest of nuns can be subject to the same base instincts as the rest of humanity. And so, I’ll continue to pray, to confess, and to sin, all in the name of my Lord.
>Soulkyn