Bad Habits: A Dark Anthology - Yolanda Olson Page 0,66
edge the intensity is going to be magnificent. I’m getting close; my breathing becomes harsh, and the pressure is mounting. My thighs and fingers are drenched, and my nipples are tight from the friction of the blanket. I arch my back, and as I finally reach the peak my muscles clench, and I’m overcome with pleasure.
“Thank you, God!” I cry out. I’m unable to stop the words bursting from my lips.
As I come down from the high, my body shakes and trembles with aftershocks, and I’m relieved I didn’t call out something else that could’ve landed me in trouble with Mother Bitch. My loud praise to God as the waves of sinful pleasure crested through my body could easily be misconstrued as religious fervor. I’ll let them believe that, even as the evidence of my devilish thoughts pools between my legs and dribbles down onto the mattress. Tiredness rears its head, and I quickly clean up and flip the mattress before returning to my bed to sleep.
A cold draft followed by a sharp spank on my behind jerks me out of my slumber, and I look up blearily to see Sister Constance smirking down at me.
“Get up, and put your habit back on before Mother Mary Margaret sees that bare ass and stockings and beats you bloody again,” she says with a grin and spanks me sharply again when I attempt to bury my face back into my pillow.
“It’s Sunday, the day of rest,” I gripe at her, forcing myself upright and reaching for the habit.
“Yes, but you know you’ll be in for it again if she catches you sleeping, especially if she sees those shiny satins of yours,” she smiles, sitting on the end of my bed, and I roll my eyes.
Sister Constance isn’t bothered by my indecency, and I’ve occasionally wondered if she would be interested in a bit of fun. The problem is she’s too honest, and if we were ever caught, she’d probably confess at the drop of a hat. We’re friends, and nothing more. I shrug, and pull on the habit, securing it in place and making sure my stockinged legs are completely covered. She’s right, Mother Bitch would have a conniption if she saw me in these.
Chapter Two
The daily chores seem to drag on forever. The work is repetitive and although there’s pleasure in the familiarity of its almost rhythmic quality, it becomes tedious when I’m being assigned the same tasks day in, day out.
At the end of the work day, having completed my chores, I approach Mother Bitch’s office. She wants to see me, but I’ve no idea why. My behind throbs at the memory of the last time I was here when she caught me sleeping through one of the Sunday services.
Faith, another of the younger nuns, is sitting on the hard bench outside the door. Her demeanor always seems sweet, and she radiates an air of innocence I’ve never possessed...or at least, I don’t think I have. When I was twelve, my parents sent me away for correction. They dumped me on the convent doorstep and never looked back. I found a peace here that I never had with them, even though I don’t always fit in. I chose to dedicate my life to the Lord and took my vows as soon as I could. I’ve tried my best to follow the rules and structure of our lives here, but old habits die hard and I’ve never been able to leave all my proclivities behind.
I’m from a good Catholic family, and the front I’ve worn for years fits like a glove. However, I’m anything but righteous, and when I’m alone, I’m free to peel away the facade. I’ve tried so hard to push aside and smother everything they’ve taught me is wrong, but I invariably fail. I shall never be the good girl my parents hoped I’d become when they abandoned me as a child.
Faith pays me no mind apart from smiling in greeting before diving back into the book she’s holding. I check that my habit is straight and everything is in place before knocking. Mother Bitch makes me wait a further ten minutes before answering.
Finally, she calls out, “Come in.”
I grind my teeth, understanding the lesson of patience she was trying to impart, but after the long day I’ve just had, she’s lucky I didn’t fall asleep on the hard, wooden bench outside her door. It wouldn’t be the first time if I had.