02
Sel leaned against the cool wall of the chapel and awaited for a priest to pass by. Yesterday, everything the beautiful saint had said went into one ear and out the other. Humming softly, she leaned back and forth on her feet.
Claude paused mid-step, his silver eyes widening in recognition as he spotted that peculiar shade of pink hair leaning against the chapel. His mind screamed at him to walk away from the unsavory newcomer to village. However, he remembered the basket of strawberries that he and the other priests thoroughly enjoyed last night after dinner.
'She was incredibly generous with that gift, surely it must've cost her a fortune. The rumors were true…' Claude thought to himself, walking towards the woman. He remembered that she wanted to find the confessional booths.
'At least she's trying to walk in the righteous path, no matter what others say about her.' Claude reasoned inwardly, trying to justify why he's walking towards her. He definitely wasn't bothered with her running away from him yesterday.
"Good day, dear sister." Claude greeted softly, he clasped his hands demurely in front of his chest and kept his head lowered, maintaining a respectful distance between them.
"I couldn't help but notice you're waiting here today as well. Were you unable to find the church confessional yesterday?"
Sel felt a shiver run down her spine at his voice. Her ears grew red before she could even turn around to meet him.
'Please God, you're playing a cruel joke on me!' She cried internally, feeling her face grow hotter.
"I-I'm fine." Sel whispered lightly, her pink hair flowing down the side of her face as she stared at the floor.
"Please, dear sister, if there is anything troubling you at all, do not hesitate to come to me. I am here to support the faithful in whatever way I can as a humble servant of the Goddess." Claude's voice was laced with concern, his eyebrows furrowed underneath the veil covering his face.
Claude couldn't ignore the nagging feeling in his heart that he must've embarrassed her. Sel was, after all, a living breathing tomato right now. So, he continued…
"If you wish to confess, the confessionals are open right now in the East of the chapel, Miss…?" He spoke gently, hoping to be useful to her. Maybe even guide her to the path of righteousness without pressuring her.
"Sel, my name is Sel. Thank you, patron saint. I will be taking my leave now." Sel lowered her head and bowed deeply as a sign of respect to the patron saint. She scurried off to the east right after saying that, not giving Claude any time to interject or question her.
'Why are her ears red? She's running away now???'
Claude stood rooted in his place, watching the woman, Sel apparently, scurry away towards the confessional area. He couldn't help but feel a sense of confusion and a nagging curiosity about the nature of her confession. He truly wanted to help this lost lamb of his Goddess back into the light.
With a heavy sigh slipping out of his pink lips, Claude began to make his way towards the confessional area, compelled by his sacred duty to help the faithful and the lost.
He paused before the wooden door, listening intently to make sure it was the voice he listened to just minutes ago. He knew it was a violation of her privacy and not expected of a saint to provide guidance to confessors.
Claude found himself walking inside the priest's side of the booth, he didn't know why he was doing this exactly. He was a saint, not a priest. He wasn't equipped to help her properly. As soon as he walked in he heard her low, soft voice.
"Dear Goddess," Sel whispered, "today, too, the patron saint was extremely beautiful. Why must you make your holiest person so sinfully beautiful? It's not fair to have your holiest servant tempt me so."
Claude felt as though he was whiplashed. His silver eyes widened in disbelief and shock at her words. His porcelain skin flushed a deep red underneath his veil as the weight of her words finally sunk in.
'Huh…? Huh..?' He wasn't sure if he heard her right. He stumbled out of the confessional booth with his heart pounding in his chest akin to a drumbeat. He couldn't comprehend the idea of someone finding him, a man of the cloth— a veiled saint— tempting.
It felt like he had betrayed his Goddess by leading someone into sin. Panic began to set in at the realization that even he was able to lead someone astray. Claude turned on his heel, fleeing the confession in a rush of white, silk robes and a pounding heart. Once he reached the chapel, he knelt down in front of the statue of the Goddess and began praying vehemently.
Sel came out of the confessional booth, almost half an hour later, feeling light. It was as though a burden had been relieved of her. There was even a spring in her step as she walked past Claude with a hum.
Claude stood frozen, his clasped hands trembling a bit, his eyes widening in shock and confusion as he watched Sel practically dance past him. She looked like the most carefree woman in the world with that goofy smile. He blinked rapidly trying to make sense of her.
'I walked past him didn't I?' She cried inwardly.
Sel froze into halt, her body just did that now apparently. She turned, almost mechanically, to face him. Her lips curved up into the most awkward smile a human being was able to make.
Claude felt another fresh wave of panic set in his chest. He knew he should offer her some guidance. Be a priest. However, the ability to form coherent thoughts had temporarily eluded him. Instead, he stared at her, mouth slightly agape and his cheeks still burning a deep red.
'Fuck. Fuck. Run, he's going to think you're creepy.' Sel thought.
Claude stared at the fleeing woman; his mouth still agape. His mind whirled with conflicting emotions and turmoil.
'I must've surely heard her wrong… She keeps running away though. Is it because of… No!' Claude stopped himself from thinking deeper and further into her strange behavior.
With a trembling hand, Claude pinched his forehead feeling a headache coming up. He knew he had to keep praying, keep seeking guidance from his Goddess. But it was his first time facing such a… problem? He didn't know what to do.
The next day when Claude saw that striking pink hair again, he could already feel his cheek starting to flush. She was walking towards the confessional booths once more. He knew it was improper, but he couldn't help but wonder if she was going to confess the same sinful thoughts about him as before.
'I need to help her!' He reasoned to himself, even though he was already walking towards the confessional booths. He easily found the correct booth since Sel was already in the middle of a confession.
"I don't know how you expect me to not want him when he's that pretty, Goddess. Last night, did you intend to give me dreams of him moaning and crying underneath me or was that an evil force's doing? You confuse me, Goddess." Sel complained, she was kneeling down and clasping her hands in prayer.
Claude's eyes widened in disbelief as he overheard Sel's confession. His face red once again underneath the veil and his heart pounding in an odd rhythm.
Claude wanted to cry that he hadn't done anything special to warrant such words. How could he have intensified her sinful and lustful thoughts from merely an interaction?
Sel was told that the confessional booths were rarely attended to by priests since there was a shortage of priests in their village. Sel sighed, frustrated, and continued confessing—no, ranting, "I saw him yesterday, right after the confession too. I think you're doing this on purpose to me. How am I supposed to go home and be at peace right after a confession if I see the patron saint again."
Claude knew he wasn't even supposed to be listening to her confessions in the first place but the words "crying underneath me" rang in his ears like a sinful mantra, rooting him to his seat in the priest's side. His faith and purity warred against a confusing surge of ego and pride; he had caused such lustful, carnal desires.
"Goddess, please be kind to me. I do charity work and even help the needy. Why did you give your hardest soldier the strongest battles. Wait, no. I meant strongest soldier the hardest battle. I am hard when I see the patron saint, so I guess I'm still right." Sel muttered to herself, her eyebrows furrowed in deep thought and prayer.
Claude felt a shiver run down his spine when he heard her. Even though, he didn't understand what was 'hard' and why she was 'hard', he felt pleased. She sounded sincere in her confession and it was regarding him. A blush spread up from his collarbone and up to his ears, an unexpected thrill coursing through his lithe body.
He should be horrified, revolted even, by her carnal thoughts. Just listening to her lewd confession felt like he was breaking his vow to the Goddess. He was supposed to be pure and virtuous! The human part in him couldn't help but feel a perverse sense of pride at her words.
Sel was quiet for a while, thinking hard before ranting again, "Also, what did you mean by making patron saint be below me? Goddess, are you implying he likes to take it? Ahhh, why am I thinking about these things here as well?"
With trembling hands, Claude brought his slender fingers to his lips, biting down hard on the tender flesh of his thumb to stifle any noises he would've made. He shouldn't be listening; he shouldn't even be here. Goddess, help him, he couldn't stop listening.
Sel sighed feeling her cock twitch and pulse remembering the dream last. She opened her eyes and raised the skirt of her dress up. Sure enough, she was hard and leaking on her stomach. Almost defeatedly, she slipped out her cock from the confines of her panties and poked the red, leaking tip. A moan slipped out of her mouth at the contact, Sel quickly covered her mouth.
Claude could hear her dress rustle and then heard her make a strange noise.
"Claude…" Sel whispered to herself softly, using two fingers to the stroke the tip of her cock.