The Man Of Sin: Chapter 1 - Sex Stories

The Man Of Sin: Chapter 1

... knock him in the Adam’s Apple. As he fell back to the ground, one of his friends lunged with a knife in his hand. Forsaking her pride and hoping nobody would see under her skirt, she spun around and delivered a kick to his temple, knocking him out into the street like he was a soccer ball. The last delinquent stood, shaking like a leaf and holding out two cans of spray paint like they were mace. The girl shot him a dirty look. “If you even think of getting a single drop of pain on my uniform, I swear in the name of Heaven that not even God will be able to find your remains.” His small flicker of courage extinguished like a candle, he turned around and ran away. “Oh no you don’t!” Tossing her book bag aside, she sprinted after him. Down the winding streets of Rome, she chased him while trying to ignore the building pain in her ankles from the uneven cobblestone ground. Not to mention her school shoes weren’t meant for running. Regardless of this, she zeroed in on him like a missile, following him around every turn and across every open street. She saw him swerve into an alley and skidded past it, grabbing a piece of a brick jutting out of the ground. Getting back to her feat, she took careful aim and hurled the square stone at the fleeing vandal, striking him in the back of the head and sending him tumbling. “Just goes to show that you can’t escape your sins. You’d better pray for your immortal soul when you wake up…” Catching her breath, she looked at her watch and swore. ...

... She had gone out to get breakfast off campus but she had wasted what little time she had and her first class would be starting in a few minutes. “Helena, have you been fighting again?” The redhead looked up at her roommate, Sophie, standing by her desk. The classroom was filled with students all the same age, male and female. The girls were all dressed in plaid skirts with white blouses and knee socks, the boys wearing black pants and white clergy shirts with student clerical collars. Everyone carried a cross with them, either around their necks or on rosary chains. Helena had just managed to get back to school before class started and now all the students were waiting for the teacher to arrive. “How can you tell?” “Because you’re wearing that unmistakable face of self-righteousness.” “I was just putting some sinners in their place.” “Ephesians 4:32, you must remember to forgive.” “And I did forgive them, after I gave them a taste of the torment that awaits them in Hell if they do not open themselves up to Jesus Christ and renounce their sinful ways,” she shot back. “Well I certainly hope you’ll remember to go to Confessions when you get the chance.” “Don’t worry, Sophie, I will. Or at least the Disciplinary Committee will force me to before I can on my own.” The door opened and a nun stepped in, sending all of the students scurrying to their desks in fear. Their teacher, Sister Olivia, was strict beyond measure. She was nicknamed the Sphinx, as in the Sphinx that the enslaved ...