Angels, even fallen, do not age as humans do. Despite years on earth, I still looked as a twenty-something year old woman. My hair is a dark caramel brown, a dancers body. White of complexion, a comfortable weight and curves. The only feature at all that may make people realize something about me is different than them is my eyes. They change often, shifting between green and hazelnut.
I never will forget the day I fell. How heartbroken I was. How lost and afraid. How cruel it seemed. I don’t know why I was cast out, but I wanted to be back, singing His praises. And for a time after my fall, I spent myself devoted to Him, to regain His favor. I watched the cruelty those on this Earth did in his name however and it shook me to my core.
I had to witness more, to find some redeeming qualities in those who so prominently sang His praises here on the mortal plane, but I found little, and my faith had eroded. Warped. I turned away, but I never fully could shake His hold on me. Which brings me to today, the first Mass I’d been to in some time.
As I sat on the cold wood, the scent of years of strong perfumed ladies and cologne washed men filling my nose, I wondered for a moment if this was a good choice.
There was a faint creek of wood and a small vibration as the door closed. The silence of the solemn atmosphere broken by the metallic ring of a curtain being pulled and then a thunderous boom-clack of the wood panel separating me and the other sliding back.
I took a deep breath and closed my eyes. My heart raced, and I gripped my skirt tightly with my fingers, clutching hard enough to turn my nail beds white from the pressure.
The silence continued to ring and I felt my throat clench, a bead of sweat brimming on my brow. I steeled myself and inhaled sharply, the strong scents an assault to my senses, but clarifying in a way.
“Bless me, for I have sinned. It has been….20 years since my last confession…” my voice squeaked, a feeble and thin thing, utterly unlike my normal daily confident speaking tone.
I was met with silence. I could have swore there was a ritual response, but hearing none I swallowed shakily and took another loud breath.
“I have been living in sin for as long as I can remember. I fornicate. I am a homosexual. I cohabitate before marriage. I have forsaken the church and have not been in communion for as long as I have been without confession. And…”
I shuddered, a lightning like electricity tingling down my spine. I knew once I said this, in this place, there was no turning back.
“And…I don’t think I am wrong. The church is that which is wrong, turned to evil devices and evil people. I refuse to acknowledge that my life is wrong, and that confidence and surety is considered arrogance and pride. But what if I’m prideful? Should not we all be proud of who we are?”
A silence followed my profound proclamation, and I felt my heartbeat in my ears, a loud bass drum.
Then, a voice so soft. So gentle. So sweet and kind replied. Hers.
“Sweet child, you have nothing to confess. But to ease your guilt, say 10 Hail Mary’s.
God the father of mercies through the death and resurrection of his Son as reconciled the world to himself and the sent the Holy Spirit among us for the forgiveness of sins. Through the ministry of the Church may God give you pardon and peace and I absolve you from your sins in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen”
I was stunned, and sat unmoving for a few moments. I had expected some sort of chastisement. Some sort of advice. Something.
I know I hadn’t been to service in forever, but surely this isn’t how this was supposed to go. And why her voice? Wasn’t all the Church ran by men?
The woman behind the thin paneling seemed to sense my confusion and a small chuckle came from the other side
“Who do you think you are speaking with, little one?”
I cocked my head to the side in confusion, squinting my closed eyes and contorting my facial features in the manner of asking a question “what?”
Another giggle.
“Come, open your eyes child. See that which you speak to.”
And when I did, I was not met with the stark dark confines of a wooden booth, but instead an endlessness of white clouds and blue sky. Orange sun and a soft moon
And, before me was the most beautiful and amazing body of a woman that I had ever seen. Her radiance grander than all the light surrounding us
I gasped, my fear and anxiety of the confession replaced with a sense of wonder and beauty that I’d never felt before. A tightness in the pit of my stomach that wasn’t related to stress but joy.
Tears trickled down my checks and a finger reached up to brush it aside.
The touch softer than a goslings down feathers.
I wept from the beauty of it all, and all my guilt and shame disappeared.
And in its place, true joy.
“You are home now, my angel. Come, let us live your “sins” anew so you can feel them for the beautiful things they are instead of the shameful guilt ridden crimes you have been told they are”
And before I knew it, my lips were engulfed by hers. My body wrapped in her arms. My back arched. Nipples perked. A wetness poured forth from me and I gasped…
Source: reddit.com/r/Erotica/comments/zqeip6/awakening_to_divinity_chapter_1_the_confession