My Sweet Nun
When I hear her voice call, "Come in," I gently push the door open and step into the dimly lit room. There she lies on the bed, an intriguing figure draped in soft shadows.
“Miss Viktoria Yae, hello,” I say, my voice steady despite the flutter of curiosity in my chest. “The parish received your message asking for me to come. Something about a suspected evil spirit in your house? Your father let me in just before leaving. He said I should come to your room. I'm Sister Natasha, from Our Lady of Solitude convent. You requested my presence, correct? To confirm this?”
“Good, good, come in. Take a seat,” she replies, her tone inviting though her eyes dance with something more enigmatic. “Yes, I did ask for you. There’s an evil spirit haunting this house, or so I believe.”
I draw closer, my notebook and pen at the ready. “So you haven’t experienced it yourself, this demonic presence?”
“I have,” she admits, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “I’ve felt this ominous force, watching, waiting, biding its time…”
“Okay.” I scribble down her words, sensing the weight of the atmosphere thickening around us. “Has this entity tried to harm you?”
“No, not directly. But it lingers in the corners of the room, like a cat observing its prey. I can feel its cold, unyielding gaze.”
I notice her studying me, a glint of mischief in her eyes. I push the thought aside, focusing instead on the matter at hand. “I’m sorry to hear that, Miss Viktoria. Has it moved objects? Locked doors? Anything unusual?”
“Nothing too drastic,” she replies, sitting up, the silk of her gown sliding against her skin. “Small items sometimes vanish—only to reappear in places I hadn’t left them. It’s as if the entity is testing boundaries, learning my routine, observing my reactions.”
“I see.” I jot that down, trying to maintain an air of professionalism despite the tension crackling in the air. “Is there anything else I should know?”
I try to meet her gaze, but there’s an intensity there I can’t quite place—almost flirtatious. I dismiss the thought, forcing myself to focus.
She leans forward slightly, a sly smile curling her lips, her eyes locked onto mine. “There’s one more thing, Sister... Whenever the presence nears, I feel an undeniable weight in the air. It’s almost tangible, like a fog that clings to my skin.”
She leans forward just enough for the mattress to creak. “Whenever it’s near, the air changes. Thick. Heavy. It presses against my skin.”
“That must be traumatic,” I murmur, my pen hovering above the page.
She shrugs, a carefree demeanor masking something deeper. “I’ve dealt with more bothersome presences before. It can be unnerving, yes. But…” Her eyes hold mine, scrutinizing me with an unsettling intensity. “That’s not the only reaction I've had to this entity’s presence…”
“Is there something else?” I prompt, curiosity piqued.
Viktoria gaze drifts down my figure, appraising, then shifts back to my face. “I feel as though it’s drawn to me, specifically. It follows my every movement, almost as if it has developed an obsession. It’s fixated on me, watching intently.”
“Does your father experience this too?”
She shakes her head, a wry smile playing at her lips. “No, he doesn’t share the same level of interest. It’s like I’m the sole target.”
“Do you sense the demon now?” I ask, heart quickening.
“Yes,” she replies, the certainty in her eyes both alarming and captivating. “Right now, it's close, lurking just beyond that door, hiding in the shadows.”
I turn to look at the door she indicates. “Can you see it?”
She shakes her head, a playful smirk gracing her face. “No direct sight. It remains concealed, always watching, always waiting. I only feel it, its gaze locking onto me, its energy electric in the air.”
“Is there a specific time it attacks or appears?”
Tapping her finger thoughtfully on her lips, she pretends to ponder. “No specific time. It’s random. But every night, without fail, its presence looms, prowling, like a predator hunting its prey.”
“Is there anything else I should know?”
There’s a pause, as if she’s deciding whether to share more. “There is one last thing. This entity feels… intelligent. It doesn’t act like a mere spirit. It observes and calculates, almost strategizes. It’s playing a game with me.”
“What type of game?” I ask, intrigued.
She leans back, a mischievous glint in her eyes, the air thickening with anticipation. “A game of cat and mouse. The demon seems to enjoy toying with me, its presence becoming more pronounced, more potent, just to gauge my reactions. It tests my limits, my resolve.”
“And do you… play along?”
A soft chuckle escapes her lips, her smile a mix of allure and challenge. “Of course. It’s quite entertaining. While it believes it controls the game, little does it know I am enjoying every moment. I can’t let it have all the fun.”
Her smile unnerves me, and I shift in my seat, my heart racing. “So, you’re not being haunted?”
“Haunted is such a heavy word,” she muses, waving her hand dismissively. “It’s more a nuisance than anything. Rather fascinating, actually, to observe its behavior—as though I have my own uninvited guest.”
“But in your letter, you claimed to be tormented by a terrifying demon and needed the priest for an exorcism. You wanted me here for confirmation…”
She feigns indifference, her hand drifting to play with a lock of hair. “Oh, you Christians and your superstitions. I might have exaggerated just to get a reaction. It's not every day one has their own personal demon, after all.”
“I see. So, you don’t want the priest to come then?”
“It’s not that I don’t want him. But why trouble him for something so— trivial? I enjoy this little challenge. The push and pull with the entity.”
“And what about me? Why specifically did you ask for my presence?”
She leans forward, her smile curling into something temptingly coy. “Oh, Sister, it’s simple. I needed a second opinion, and who better to consult than you, a dedicated nun? Surely you understand the importance of a professional evaluation for something this serious?”
“Okay. Um, sure… Do you still want cleansing for your body and home?”
I tilt my head, mulling over her suggestion. “A cleansing ritual? That seems a bit extreme, don’t you think? As I said, it’s harmless fun. Is there really a need for something so drastic?”
“I see. That’s all the questions I had for you, Miss Yae.” I rise, trying to escape the thick tension hanging in the room.
“Hold on, Sister. We can't possibly be finished already.”
She stands up, blocking my path to the door, arms crossed and eyes gleaming with mischief. “Surely there must be more we can discuss? I called upon you for a reason, you know.”
“I don’t understand… Is there another reason aside from the haunting?”
“Oh, come on, Sister. Do you really think I brought you here just to talk about a little demon?” She steps closer, the distance between us evaporating. “No, there’s something more… personal.”
“I… I don’t understand,” I stammer, her presence overwhelming.
She reaches out, fingers delicately lifting my chin, forcing me to meet her gaze. “Oh, Sister, you're clever. Surely you must realize why I requested you specifically. A simple phone call to the parish would suffice if I sought only advice on a haunting.”
“Oh, Sister,” she murmurs. “You’re far too perceptive to believe this was ever about a demon.”
With a bold step closer, her body almost melding with mine, she whispers, “You see, I have a different reason for bringing you here. A more… personal reason.”
Her body nearly presses into mine now, her presence overwhelming.
“I asked for you,” she continues softly, “because I wanted to see how devotion looks when it’s tested.”
“What? Personal? What do you mean?” I ask, my voice trembling slightly.
She chuckles, her finger slowly tracing a deliberate line along my jaw, drawing me into her orbit. Leaning in closer, her breath brushes against my ear, sultry and inviting. “Oh, Sister, you're acting quite coy, aren't you? As if you don’t know what I mean.”
With a gentle caress, she brushes a strand of hair away from my face, her fingertips lingering far too long against my skin. “Let me ask you a very straightforward question, Sister Natasha. Do you know why I specifically requested you here today?”
“No. I don’t know. Care to share?” I try to sound firm, but my heart races.
She sighs softly, leaning in closer still, her lips nearly grazing my ear. “Oh, Sister, you really are quite innocent, aren’t you? Very well, I’ll make this as clear as I possibly can.”
Taking my hand in hers, our fingers intertwine, sending a jolt of warmth through my body that I desperately try to suppress. Her voice drops, velvety and deliberate. “I called you, Sister Natasha, specifically, because I simply could not resist the sight of you.” Her fingers slide between mine, warm, certain. My breath catches before I can stop it. “I was so… utterly captivated.”
My breath catches. “Oh my God, Viktoria? What in God’s name are you doing?” I attempt to push her away, but my body betrays me, fueled by something deeper.
She chuckles, amusement sparkling in her eyes as she grips my hand tighter, refusing to let go—not painful, but firm enough to make my pulse race. “Now, now, Sister Natasha, there’s no need to be shy. It’s just the two of us, after all.” Her finger traces my cheek, a featherlight touch that makes me shiver. “Don’t you find me captivating as well, hmm?”
“Miss Viktoria, I am a nun.”
Her smirk only deepens, unbothered by my protest. “Ah, yes, a nun. But does it really matter when we are here, so close, so intimate?” She runs her fingers through my hair, an intoxicating touch that sends my heart racing.
I instinctively pull my nun veil tighter, trying to shield myself from this increasingly dangerous proximity. “You have been misguided, Miss Viktoria. I have a vow of chastity. Besides, homosexuality is a sin. I am a woman, and you are a woman. The Bible condemns such relations.”
She steps closer. Too close. Her body presses against mine, and the contact sends a rush of heat through me that I hate myself for feeling.
Her laughter echoes in the intimate space, a sound that both frightens and excites me. “Yes, yes, I know all about your vow and the church’s stance on homosexuality. And yet, here you are, Sister, alone with me.” Her hand slides down, fingers tracing my neck, leaving a trail of heat that rattles my resolve.
I push her away, but a part of me hesitates. “Miss Viktoria, stop this madness.”
I try to push her away again. I mean to. But my hands falter.
“Ah, Sister, don’t say I didn’t warn you.” She leans in, her lips brushing over my neck, igniting a shiver that tingles across my skin.
I freeze, overwhelmed by the warmth radiating from her.
“Shh. Just relax, Sister. Let yourself feel something other than piety, if only for a moment.”
As she unzips the front of my dress, my heart races, panic bubbling within. “No. Stop, please.”
I sense the weight of her gaze as she stops, hovering tantalizingly close. Our eyes lock, and I see desire mixed with something darker reflected back at me. “Are you sure, Sister? Are you sure you want me to stop? Because if you don’t, I won’t. I promise.”
“This is wrong.” My hands instinctively move to cover my exposed chest, but I feel the thrum of rebellion within me. “This is wrong,” I insist, trying to cover myself, my hands trembling.
She watches my feeble attempts, smirking as she gently pulls my hands away, exposing me once more. “Is it really wrong? Or are you simply afraid of what you might feel if you let yourself go, just for a moment?”
“I don’t know you.”
Her fingertips trace slow patterns over my skin, not demanding—inviting. “And yet you’re still here,” she says. “Still standing so close.”
Her smile deepens, fingers tracing delicate patterns over my exposed skin, sending shivers through me. “And yet, here we are, alone, in my home. Isn’t that curious? Perhaps it doesn’t matter if we know each other or not. Perhaps all that matters is this moment, this connection… this desire.”
“I don’t desire you. This is a sin. For all I know, the demon you spoke of possessed you, and that’s why you’re acting like this.”
Her soft laughter vibrates against my chest as her fingers slip up my collarbone, tilting my head slightly to meet her smoldering stare. “Oh, Sister, it’s not possession that makes me act this way. It’s desire—a desire for you, to feel your skin under my touch, to hear your voice whispering my name. There is no demon; I wanted you here, and here you are," she admits.
“Jesus Christ!” I exclaim, shock fizzling into something more complicated beneath the surface.
She chuckles at my exclamation, fingers tracing over my lips, silencing me with a gesture that feels both intimate and forbidden. She presses a finger gently to my lips. “No, Sister," she whispers. “Don’t bring Him into this. This is just between you and me. No God, no higher powers—just us, in this moment.”
Closing my eyes quickly. My eyes squeeze shut. My heart is racing. My body feels warm, heavy, responsive in ways that terrify me. I begin to pray, the words tumbling out as though they’re the only thing keeping me upright. I start reciting the Lord’s Prayer, desperately trying to cling to my faith as my body betrays me. “Our Father, Who art in heaven, hallowed be Thy name; Thy kingdom come; Thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven. Give us this day our daily bread; and forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us; and lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil.”
I feel her closer still—her presence overwhelming, inescapable.
I can feel her watching me intently, her smile a mixture of amusement and something darker. She doesn’t interrupt. She simply breathes against my neck, her voice a murmur. “Oh, Sister, are you truly trying to resist me? Do you think some ancient prayer can quench the fire that’s burning within you?”
“No,” I whisper shakily, my voice barely above a breath, trembling despite my effort to steady it. “I will not fall into temptation and break my vows.”
She chuckles, the sound low, intimate and sultry, sending chills down my spine. She leans close, so close that her lips brush the shell of my ear, her words hot against my skin. “Oh, but don’t you see, Sister?” she murmurs. "You’ve already succumbed to temptation. You’re here, alone with me, allowing me to touch you, letting my fingers trail over your skin, feeling the heat radiating from your body. You’ve given in, even if you refuse to admit it.”
My breath stutters. I feel her presence everywhere—too close, too warm. Her fingers trail lightly along my arm, over my exposed skin, and I hate the way my body responds before my mind can stop it.
I suck in a sharp breath and shove her back, panic surging. The force of my actions intended to ground me.
“You are a sinner,” I say, louder now, clinging to the words like a lifeline. “You need to repent. I can help you. I can help you ask God for forgiveness. Don’t let the devil tempt you into sin—into homosexuality.”
She stumbles back a step, surprise flickering briefly across her face before that familiar smirk returns. “Oh, Sister,” she says gently, almost fondly. “You think you can save me?” She steps forward again, unhurried. “I’ve already tasted sin. And I find it… intoxicating.”
She chuckles. “... you’re so sweet, so naive. You think you can help me? You think you can save me? Oh, Sister, I’m afraid it’s too late for that. I’ve already tasted the sweetness of sin, and I don’t think I can give it up so easily.”
“But I can help you." I insist, though my voice wavers. My chest rises and falls too quickly. "I can help you cleanse yourself from your sins. It’s not too late. Homosexuality is wrong. It’s a sin that will lead you to hell.”
She laughs, unbothered. “Perhaps.” She moves closer, her footsteps slow, deliberate, and I can’t help but hold my breath. “Oh, yes, I’m well aware of the consequences. But, you see, the path to eternal damnation can be quite enjoyable, filled with pleasure and delights. It’s the path of pure, unblemished innocence that seems boring. Don’t you think so, Sister?”
“I... You and I have different values," I say weakly." But if you ever want to repent, the parish is wide open.” My heart races, and I want to turn and flee, to distance myself from this suffocating tension.
I turn toward the door. My heart is hammering. I need to leave.
“I should go.”
Her hand closes around my wrist.
Not rough. Not gentle. Just enough to stop me. “No,” she says softly. “Not yet.”
I freeze as she steps closer again, her body almost brushing mine. I can feel the heat of her through the thin fabric of my dress. My breath comes shallow now, uneven. “Hold on, Sister, you’re not leaving just yet. Not until you answer one question.”
“What is it, Miss Viktoria?” I ask, my voice trembling as our bodies almost touch once again.
She leans in, her lips brushing against my ear as she whispers, “Be honest, Sister. Don’t you feel any attraction towards me, even the slightest temptation? Just a hint of desire?”
“That’s a sin," I say quickly. Even thoughts like that, unholy thoughts, are a sin.”
She hums. I can feel her amusement ripple through her voice. She releases my wrist, her fingers trailing deliberately slowly down my arm, igniting my skin with the ghost of her touch, leaving goosebumps in their wake. “Ah, yes, that’s right. Forbidden thoughts and desires. But tell me, Sister," she murmurs. "Does it feel wrong to have me this close? To feel my breath against your skin, my body so near…”
“I…” My mouth opens, but no answer comes. My pulse is roaring in my ears. My skin feels too tight. Too aware.
“I... I... I don’t know,” I stammer, my resolve beginning to wane.
She smiles, her lips curving up at my hesitation, a victorious glint in her eyes. “Ah, there it is. Doubt. The first crack in your armor of righteousness. It’s there, Sister, that little twinge of uncertainty, that hint of curiosity. You’re not immune to temptation, are you? You’re not quite as pure as you pretend to be…”
“No... I... I won’t... Oh God, I have unholy thoughts, I need to go to church and repent.” The panic rises within me, battling with the heat blossoming in my chest. My stomach twists in shame.
She chuckles softly, observing me with an intensity that makes my heart race. “Oh, little Sister, you’re so fascinating, you know that? You’re trying so hard to resist, to push away these unwanted thoughts, yet they linger. You can’t escape them, can you?”
“Y... you're... What do you want from me, Miss Yae?” I ask, desperation creeping into my voice.
She steps even closer, barely inches separating us now. I can feel her warmth enveloping me as she brushes a strand of hair away from my face, her fingers lingering far too long against my skin. “Oh, Sister, I want so little from you, really. Just to let go, for a moment. To listen to your body, to embrace the desires you’re trying so hard to suppress. Just one taste… Just one moment of indulgence… is that too much to ask?”
“What you're asking is not only a sin but also requires me to break my vows," I say, though my resistance feels thin now. "a vow of chastity.”
She nods, understanding flickering in her eyes, a sky smile forming on her lips. Her hand settles at the nape of my neck, thumb tracing slow, lazy circles that make my knees feel weak. “I’m fully aware of that, Sister. I’m not asking you to throw away your vows lightly. I’m asking you to acknowledge your desires, to listen to your body’s whispers, even if just for a moment. For you, a vow of chastity means more than abstaining from physical intimacy; it means being free of any impure thoughts, correct?”
“Chastity isn’t just about touch,” she murmurs. “It’s about purity of thought. And you’ve already crossed that line.”
“…Yes.” My throat tightens. “Yes, I guess so,” I reply, my heart hammering against my ribcage, a mix of fear and curiosity suffusing my senses.
She chuckles, her hand moving to rest gently at the nape of my neck, fingers tracing slow, lazy circles that erase my resolve. “So, then, let’s make a deal. If you allow yourself one moment of impurity, just one small glimpse into the forbidden, I promise not to ask for more. Just a taste, nothing more. Will you give me that, Sister? Will you surrender to your desires just this once?One moment. One indulgence. Nothing more.”
My heart pounds so hard it almost hurts. My body feels warm, heavy, alive in a way I’ve never allowed myself to acknowledge.
“Just one time, right?” I ask, my voice wavering as uncertainty floods my thoughts.
Her smile deepens, eyes glinting with a mix of desire and mischief. “Yes, just one time. One moment of indulgence, and I won’t ask for more. You have my word.”
“Uhm... Okay.” My voice barely rises above a whisper, and I feel a thrill of excitement mixed with dread.
She steps closer, our bodies fully pressed against each other now, the mingling heat igniting a fire deep within me. “Ah, Sister, there’s no need to be nervous. Allow yourself to be in this moment. Let go of your hesitation and just feel. Can you do that for me?”
“Uhm... Okay.” The breathiness of my response surprises me, a soft exhale filled with unguarded curiosity.
She moves closer immediately, her body pressing into mine. The scent of her perfume wraps around me, dizzying. I feel her hands at the front of my dress, the faint sound of the zipper echoing far too loudly in the room.
The cool air against my exposed skin makes me gasp.
Her hands move to the front of my nun dress, her fingers deftly working the zipper. It falls open, exposing my neck and collarbone, sending a wave of heat flushing across my skin.
“Oh Christ,” I breathe out, my heart racing wildly as embarrassment and temptation collide within me.
She chuckles softly, her gaze roving over my exposed skin as the zipper stops just below my stomach. I can feel her breath against my neck, her voice a low, husky murmur. “Ah, Sister, don’t bring Him into this. We’re lost in a world of just the two of us. Just heat, desire, and you, right here, right now. Are you ready?”
My hands tremble uselessly at my sides. My breathing is shallow, uneven. I feel like I’m standing on the edge of something vast and terrifying.
“I... I... I...” My voice trembles, the uncertainty thrumming through my veins.
“Use your words, Sister. Tell me what you’re feeling. Don’t hide your thoughts and desires from me. Tell me the truth—tell me you want this.”
“I... I’m ready,” I confess, the admission tinged with fear and exhilaration.
She smiles, satisfaction dancing in her eyes as she closes the distance between us, our bodies a perfect fit as I feel the pulse of her heartbeat against mine. Leaning in, she places gentle, teasing kisses along the line of my throat, igniting a hunger I never knew I craved. “Just relax, Sister. Close your eyes and feel the moment, the pleasure, the heat…”
And despite everything—my vows, my faith, my fear—my eyes flutter shut.
To be continued in Part II
