Would it shock you to know that growing up I wanted to be a Nun? I guess some wouldn’t understand, but then again, either do I. It wasn’t for religious reasons, but more because I have a deviant mind. Pushing the limits seemed to be something that I had to do. Some will find this disturbing, but others might be able to relate to having an over active imagination.

Deviant: Departing from usual or accepted standards, especially in social or sexual behavior.

I started church at a young age. It was what upstanding people did. All week they live a sinful life and on Sunday let the Power Of Christ was away their deviant sins. I attended Holy Innocence Catholic Church with a friend of mine from school. She was what they now call non-binary, but back then I didn’t know what that mean. To me she was a tomboy. I guess I was a little bit of one too. I enjoyed playing in the mud and building forts as well. Barbies changed all that a few years later.

My deviant behavior started on day one. It was innocent enough. When that little basket came around to add the money for the church, I made a withdrawal. My parents didn’t send me with any cash and there was a little store on the way home. In my defense, they did pass it around and the money was just laying there. My friend watched but didn’t take anything. She knew better, but did enjoy the wealth after church when we bought candy. It was never a lot of money. Five bucks at the most, but my deviant mind didn’t stop there.

I admit, curiosity killed the cat when it comes to me. 

For years that’s all that it was, but then something happened. After graduation things took a turn for the better or worse? You decide. Suddenly the thought of church had a different effect on me. By then I learned that Nuns and Priests were forbidden from having sexual relationships. Honestly, not being able to cum would have killed me. I was a chronic masturbator and not a day went by that I didn’t cum. Not really too deviant, but I am sure God wouldn’t approve.

That’s when I really had to know. Do they enjoy the sins of the flesh, or are they really as uptight as they look. I found out the following Sunday that they were human after all. It was all by accident, but I call it divine intervention. It was Christmas Eve and I had already started working in the phone sex business. It was paying for college, so I thought God would forgive me.

My first call of the evening was from Canada. Nothing off there, but what did get my attention was the fact that he said he was a Priest and service would start soon. He wanted to cum before he welcomed the parishioners in for the evening. Honestly, I thought he was lying, but that wasn’t the case.

Is it bad that I made a Priest cum?

In a small room off of the main church this man whispered that he wanted me to give him JOI. That’s jack off instructions for anyone who doesn’t know. At first I hesitated, but then I grabbed my rosary rubbing the beads and told this man to stroke his filthy deviant cock. He did. I could hear it. Right as he was about to cum, I made him say the Lords Prayer and cum into his hand. When he asked what could he do with the seed, I knew right away. The church bells were ringing and the power I felt inside of me made me tremble.

“Go out to the entrance of the church and wash your hand off in the vessel of holy water!”

(By the way, this is a true story and it happened to me.)

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A Sunday Sin can be nothing but the perfect fantasy. I wrote this story to share a few of my taboo desires.

Alone in her room, Gypsy laid there watching the ceiling. Should she call her family and ask if this is okay, or should she allow it to continue and accept it as God’s will? As her eyes closed, the Devil snuck into the room to show the innocent young Nun the pleasures of his playground. One can’t control a dream. Satan always holds the upper hand in the subconscious world. 

Slowly the sheet pulled from the cot, exposing her small frame. As she stretches out, unaware that her dreams were about to be hijacked, and the Devil himself was driving the bus. She moans as she felt the hand creep from her ankle to her inner thigh, his nails leaving a faint line on her flawless flesh. 

Sunday Sin will drive you wild.

Inhaling deep, his back arched as his nose followed his hands.  Tonight though, all the Devil wanted was to sedate his growing thirst. The well between her legs would supply him with his nightly nocturnal nourishment. He parted her legs, careful not to wake the girl. The first shock of the evening was that there were no panties to remove. Her soft pussy hair covered in a dew of her sins.

The scent alone letting him know that she pleasured herself tonight. A slight adjustment in weight on the bed, and his nose buried in the small puff of hair above her pussy. Inhaling deep, he took in not just the scent of pussy perfume but also the smell of innocence. Below those pristine lips laid the perfect seal that held out all the destructive elements of the world. 

As she rolled slightly, her leg dropped to the side. She exposed herself more without knowing it or did her subconscious tell her to do that. Maybe the will of the Devil parted the rivers to the hidden treasure. 

He never spoke. There is no need to talk during dinner. As his tongue started at the asshole, he licked up the outer labia, drawing an imaginary line up to the clitoral hood. He made sure not to break contact with the skin. His tongue moved back down in a half-circle, pushing his way up the other side to complete the circle. The taste was bursting tiny bubbles on his tongue.

The Devil in the presence of not only a Nun but a virgin is almost toxic. Her pussy tastes like the combination of spun sugar and fresh honey straight from the hive. Thick, creamy, and addictive. The dream lover took his time with the small Nun. His craving reached the starvation point when he took the first swipe up the middle, parting her lips with the tip. If this is what heaven tastes like, he will relinquish the throne. 

Keep reading, to the explosive ending.

“Mmm, no, our father who art,” Gypsy mumbled. She was praying in her sleep, but for what? Did she pray for the nocturnal dream to continue or for it to end? The juices that trickled from her sweet pussy answered what she could not speak. 

“Oh, sister, I am not done with you. I will never finish with you,” he growled. Around in circles, the spike of his tongue toured her virginity. Oh, to be the one to take that, he would give up his immortal life to shove his cock in there, splatter it with cherry juice, and listen to the opera screams. Slithering around, he would not let her cum with his tongue inside of her sweet hole. No, a little lower was the goal. A hand on either side of her ass cheek, he spread open that tiny door, pushing his tongue inside of her asshole. The tight rim is holding him in a strangulation hold as she pumped her hips in the air. For being a virgin, she will become a prime panial queen.

One that begged for her cunt taped shut and her asshole destroyed by a multitude of massive cocks.

She cried out, her pleasure building as the sleeping sister knotted her slender fingers in the sheets of the cot—perspiration building on her brow. The moment the lust of the Devil consumed Gypsy, she screamed out in waves of pleasure. “Oh god, please,” she wailed. Her voice echoed through the small room as the dream escape pulled her into the chambers of the Devil for the very first time. 

Smirking, the being from her growing nightmares collecting his due, he drank every drop of the sweet cream that poured freely from her cunt. It was then that he knew the man who took this girl would unleash a wanton slave to the cock.

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