Sophie slipped into the costume, the coarse spun wool tantalizingly rough against her skin. The veil covered her hair, and she entered the small stone building. It was a recreation but beautifully done. The thick wooden crucifix hung on the wall, and the tiny window in the door held darkly colored glass that swung open. She was ecstatic that her neighbor, a history professor, was allowing her to use the tiny stone chamber.
This was her opportunity to experience the life of an anchoress. Anchoresses weren’t just medieval nuns; no they were devoted enough to their faith that in many cases they were literally walled into their tiny chambers to devote their lives and bodies to prayers.
Stepping inside, her shins pressed against the side of the narrow bed. “Can you close the door?”
The Professor smiled, “How about I leave you alone here for a bit.” He glanced at his watch, “maybe an hour?”
Sophie nodded, “Oh yes, please.” She heard the desire in her own voice, and briefly wondered if he heard it too.
“There are candles and a prayer book, should you want them.” He said and closed the door.
The metal thud of the bolt locking her in left her shivering.
The gloom and tiny space were almost overwhelming. Sophie opened her mouth to call him back, to beg to be released but stopped herself. Grateful that he left modern matches in the space, she lit a candle. The light filled the tiny space, and she say on the edge of the bed. It was a straw filled pallet on a wooden base. Nothing at all comfortable about it, and she imagined sleeping on it would be agony.
Her eyes drifted to the crucifix, noting how smooth it was. It must be her imagination, but it was damn near phallic. She reached for the prayer book. It was a modern recreation, like the house itself. She flipped though the book, but it wasn’t written in modern English. The flickering candle light made it a struggle to read, but as she paged through, a small pamphlet fell out. Her eyes widened at the medieval style illustrations of some very naughty nuns.
Her heartbeat quickened as she paged through the illustrations. Her nipples hardening and pressing against the rough wool costume. There was a nun bent over a pew and a priest taking her from behind. In the next illustration, was a young nun with her habit pulled up as another older nun used a switch on her bottom. Sophie shifted on the hard pallet, feeling the wetness between her thighs. She wondered if these were reproductions of historic images, given the level of depravity they depicted.
But it was the final illustration that caught her eye, a nun using a crucifix as a dildo. Her eyes jumped back to the crucifix on the wall. She wondered if the Professor had left this pamphlet here, if he had somehow figured out her fantasies. But that was ridiculous wasn’t it? But here she was naked under the costume he’d given her, locked in this anchoress’s chamber, with naughty nuns and a crucifix that looked like it was made to be a dildo.
She glanced at the dark glass window, unable to see anything through it. The Professor must have returned to the house; He wasn’t going to sit outside the chamber for an hour. No, she told herself, there was no one out here except her. She rose and touched the crucifix, lightly running her fingers over the smooth surface. There were no sharp edges at all, and as she wrapped her fingers around it, she noted that it was a nearly perfect size.
She cast another guilty glance around the small space, and checked that the door was locked from the outside. Biting her lip she lay on the pallet and tugged the costume up, revealing her nude body. Her nipples were achingly hard already, and the outrageousness of her actions only added to the frantic desire overtaking her. She rubbed and pinched her nipples as she paged thought the pictures again, her eyes devouring each one, finally, leaving the pamphlet open to the final image.
She rubbed the crucifix between her thighs, her own wetness coating the smooth wood. Her desire obliterated her shame at her behavior, and she started to press the makeshift dildo inside. The hard wood was cool and unyielding as it entered her. She whispered “Forgive me father for I have sinned,” and began slowly fucking the hard wood.
The pallet had no give as she pumped her hips in time with her hand wielding the great wooden cock. Her eyes trained on the image of the nun in the pamphlet, she used her free hand to rub her clit. There was no soft touching here. She rubbed herself hard and fast, desperate for release and needing this sexy sacrilege to be a little brutal.
She thrust faster and harder, knowing that she’d be bruised afterward, but not caring. She reached her climax and spat out a string of half remembered prayers. She let her hands drop, the wooden cross press deeply inside her. She wished, suddenly, for a mirror. It wasn’t something an anchoress would have, vanity being a sin after all. But she wished she could see herself, habit bunched to her neck and her pussy wet and dripped around the thick wooden crucifix. Would I look like the woman in the picture? She wondered and hoped so. She savored the image lying languidly on the hard pallet before removing the wooden cross. She wiped it clean on the costume before returning to the wall. She felt the bruised ache between her thighs, just as she knew she would.
Straightening her costume, she replaced the crumpled veil over her hair. The pamphlet she left on the bed, open to the final page. It wasn’t long before she heard the bolt slide open, and the Professor’s voice calling out to her.
The light flooded the small chamber and Sophie blinked at the brightness.
“Did you find the experience you sought?” He asked.
Sophie rose from the bed and leaned over to blow out the candle, noticing the small puddle of wax underneath it, and seeing a missed opportunity. “I believe I did,” she said meeting his eyes. “Although, I wonder if I could come back again, maybe spend a bit longer inside? After reading the prayer book, I’ve found there is more to discover here.”
She watched his eyes move from her, to widen at the pamphlet on the bed, and then to the cross on the wall. She watched him swallow. “Yes,” he nodded. “I’d be happy to facilitate your understanding of the anchoress in any way you need.”
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