“Father, forgive me for I have sinned. It’s been a month since my last confession.”

“Tell me, my child.”

The priest’s voice behind the screen was comforting, familiar, the place Cara could pour all her guilt into and find forgiveness and acceptance. Still, as always, she had a hard time beginning, even though the guilt wracked her.

“I-I’ve been having carnal thoughts. Constantly. Every day for weeks. All the time. It’s almost all I can think about. I can do my schoolwork, but just barely. I don’t touch myself, but I want to, all the time. I dream about…”

“About what? Unburden yourself.”

“I dream about sex. About what it would be like. About pleasure and… I don’t know. I wake up…wet, like I’ve had an accident, but I know I haven’t,..”

The details rushed out of her, as she blushed and confessed, while the priest listened silently on the other side. When she had done, Cara was almost panting. She couldn’t even bring herself to say even the confession had aroused her.

“Pray with me, and be absolved.” His voice was full of compassion and love, and she trusted him. This had been his response each time she’d confessed to him since he’d replaced the old, stern reedy-voice confessor in the fall. They started saying Hail Marys together, starting again immediately once coming to the end. His voice and her together seemed to match perfectly, melodically, intertwining. Cara got lost in that repetition, and time seemed to fade away.

Hail Mary, full of grace.

Our Lord is with you.

Cara seemed to float, air all around her, clothed in nothing but light.


Blessed are you among women,

Joy filled her, forgiveness, fulfillment, a pleasure so deep it warmed her soul.


and blessed is the fruit of your womb,

This was the pleasure she dreamed about. No – it was more than that earthly, carnal, corrupt desire. It filled her to bursting. 



A spark in her center erupted with grace

Holy Mary, Mother of God, blessed is the fruit of your womb,

and soothing, 

pray for us sinners, and the fruit of your womb,


and soul-deep fulfillment.

now and at the hour of your womb,


and love,


Cara didn’t know how many times they repeated the prayer. She never kept count. But by the time they finished, she felt so much better, lighter. “Unburdened,” as the priest said, the guilt that filled her replaced with something clean and new and joyful.

She knew it wouldn’t last, but she’d have at least some time. For the past months, the sinful thoughts began with the descent into the moodiness and discomfort of her time of the month, but she was going to put it out of my mind until she had to.

But then the weirdest thing happened. Her time didn’t seem to arrive – and neither did the thoughts. Instead, she began dreaming of Mary. Not of her and baby Jesus, but of her carrying Jesus. She dreamt of Mary’s life as the Son of God was growing inside her. They were peaceful, lovely dreams, but Cara was still disconcerted by them. She felt she needed guidance, so when the time came for confessional, even though she did not feel she had sinned much at all, she went anyway.

“Father, forgive me for I have sinned. It’s been a month since my last confession.”

“Tell me, my child.”

The cracking voice of the old confessor startled her.

“What happened to the new priest?” she couldn’t help asking, even though it probably wasn’t the proper thing to do.

“What new priest?”

“The…” she didn’t know what to say.

“There isn’t any new priest, my child,” his voice was ancient, but not unkind, “but it doesn’t matter, tell me your burden.”

Cara didn’t know how to begin.

Categories: Erotic Fiction, Fantasy, Impregnation, Monocle, SupernaturalTags: , , ,


I am the little devil on your shoulder, stroking your neck with my tail, whispering obscenities into your ear, and looking down your blouse. One third of The Erotic Writer blog.

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