NOVEL NEXT chapter 212
Chapter 212. Sister, did you call for me?
Because Bishop Horace had helped her solve a problem, Clothilde decided to repay Horace’s kindness with even more diligence in her job.
It so happened that many people had scheduled confessions with the church today, so Clothilde once again settled in the confessional’s listening booth, to absolve those who came to confess their sins.
Generally speaking, people who voluntarily seek confession with the clergy are doing so from a place of genuine remorse.
If their conscience didn’t bother them, they wouldn’t come to the confessional at all.
So, in the vast majority of cases, things proceed as normal: the believer confesses, and then the priest or nun, in the name of the Goddess, absolves the believer of their sins.
Yet, this duty is not so simple. Sitting in the cramped space itself isn’t a problem. After all, Clothilde had grown accustomed to sitting still for long periods during her training.
The problem lies in the content of the confessions.
People are different, and so the confessions vary wildly.
Some are tormented by their own s*xual attraction to femboys.
Some feel pangs of conscience for having an affair with their neighbor’s wife.
Others, knowing full well their wife is sleeping with the neighbor, are not angered but, disturbingly, find a strange pleasure in it, and feel deeply sinful for it.
And there are those who confess that, in a moment of madness, they used fish to relieve their inner desires, and are now ridden with guilt.
To be honest, Clothilde had heard similar confessions in other churches before.
But why were all the confessions in this water city about *these* kinds of things?
And what was truly damning was that not only men, but also what sounded like honest young women were coming to confess such things.
One woman said that, while she loved her husband, she couldn’t resist her neighbor’s gourd-sized rod, and then vividly described the entire process.
Clothilde couldn’t help but conjure the images in her own mind.
*Wait, that wife and those two men from earlier must know each other, right? They absolutely must!*
“…I am sorry, madam, but your sins cannot be forgiven. Please resolve to break off your relationship with your neighbor and then come back to confess. Surely that is what the Goddess would expect.”
“Is that so… I, I understand, I’ll try to refuse him, thank you for listening to my story, Sister.”
As Clothilde forcefully suppressed the urge to rub her legs together, rejecting the woman’s confession with a somber, almost mournful tone, the same sad voice came from the confession booth on the other side of the partition.
Then Clothilde heard the woman slowly stand and leave, followed shortly after by the sound of the door closing.
Only when she was sure she was completely alone did Clothilde finally let go. She curled up into a ball and let out sounds that were unseemly, filled with a raw, carnal desire.
“Haah… haah… N-no, my l*st marks are reacting…”
The familiar sensation spread from her abdomen to her entire body. Unable to sit upright any longer, Clothilde struggled to pull back the partition between the two rooms.
And just as she expected, there were some strange, unfamiliar stains on the seat in the opposite room.
Because she was in the same state, Clothilde knew exactly what they were.
She’d been able to hold it together with the men before, but that woman was too much! How can you confess your sins in a confession booth and include a detailed description of the whole experience and your feelings about it!?
Did she *really* intend to confess?
It was bad enough that she was feeling this way; wasn’t she, the listening nun, being corrupted by it too!
Clothilde’s face flushed quickly, her cheeks turning bright red, her mind flooded with images of everything the young woman had described.
She could forcibly restrain herself when others were around.
But now, she couldn’t restrain herself any longer.
The so-called *lewd/tattoo curse* was this troublesome; it was reactive even from just hearing about it, let alone seeing it.
“Gulp… No, if I go out like this, people will definitely notice something’s wrong…”
Originally, Clotilde intended to leave the confessional immediately to find Noah, who should be outside, for help.
But she could feel that her face was definitely very red right now, and coupled with her unconsciously squirming body, it was a one-hundred-percent chance of being exposed.
So, Clotilde ultimately could only sit back down in the listening booth, then, with a face full of guilt, she began her self-induced madness.
She knew how terrible it was to do this in the confessional.
But her experiences in the wilderness, the priest’s office, and the deserted streets late at night hadn’t been for nothing.
The gradual process had pushed her bottom line back step by step. At this moment, although Clotilde still felt that this kind of thing was inappropriate, it was better than going out in this state and having at least twenty people in the hall notice her abnormality, right?
“Ugh… Ahh, Goddess, please forgive this ugly sight, I, I…”
On one side was intense guilt, and on the other was an irresistible sense of pleasure. Under the torment of these two feelings, the sister emitted a sound similar to that of the lady confessing earlier.
Compared to other places, the confessional was much more important to the sister.
Because in this room, she would act as the Goddess’s spokesperson on earth, forgiving the sins of the faithful.
That meant the Goddess was silently watching the scene in this room, otherwise how could she forgive the faithful in the name of the Goddess?
To put it bluntly, the sister always felt like she was doing this outrageous thing right under the Goddess’s nose.
If someone were to push open the door now and see her in this disheveled state, her life as a nun would surely end.
Especially if her respected Bishop Horace knew that she, the battle nun who was meant to vanquish heretics, was actually a heretic herself, he would surely look at her with extreme disappointment and feel pain.
Such a dangerous situation was unfolding now.
But as they say, the more dangerous the place, the stronger the stimulation.
To prevent the sound from getting out.
The sister covered her mouth with her other hand.
But this unintentional act unexpectedly made the sister suddenly imagine a new scenario.
That was, someone was covering her mouth from behind, humiliating her in front of the Goddess she believed in.
That person was of course a certain black-haired delinquent priest.
“N-Mr. Noah! No! How far are you going to humiliate me! And, and… the Goddess will be angry… Eh? You say you’re not afraid of the Goddess? How, how could it be, you say you’re actually…?!”
In the little drama playing out in her mind within the confessional, Clotilde imagined Noah behind her, speaking his ‘true identity’ with a mocking smile in her ear, and revealing a look of astonishment and a pleasure that was many times more intense.
She didn’t know that Noah was actually an evil god.
She just thought that if anyone dared to commit such an unforgivable act against her, a nun, in the confessional, it could only be the evil god, the only one who dared to rebel against the Goddess.
It was a strangely accurate guess.
But at that moment, I wasn’t really paying attention, just thinking internally, ‘Ah, well, if it’s a邪神, there’s no helping it.’
My mouth, however, was still shouting, ‘Stop, stop it! Mr. Noah! No! No, please!’
“What is it, Sister?”
“!!!?”
It was like perfect timing.
Noah suddenly opened the confession booth door, looking in at the Sister who was still fantasizing about being abused by Noah.
The Sister, stopping her movements, was staring in shock at Noah, the object of her star-like fantasies.
She was just as stunned as a child caught by their parents looking at something weird in their room.