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I was raised by a very loving mother and father. My sister, Lucy, is three years older than me. Our parents, though extremely generous and caring, were very strict when it came to religious matters. We were required to pray for an hour every morning, before every meal, and taught about moral implications whenever it was deemed appropriate. To me, this seemed to be more often than necessary.

It was the early 1950’s. Our family of four lived in a small isolated community in which everyone was raised as a Nercian Christian. Nercian Christianity, as far as I knew, was only practiced within this very small town. Its belief system and practices were almost synonymous with the Roman Catholic Church, with a few minor differences in certain procedures. One such procedure required all women to partake in the Ritual of Confession.

Every family in the small town was given a particular time when they were to be admitted into the church so the women could confess their sins. This was done to ensure all female family members had a fair chance to receive their penance. My family’s designated time was 4:00pm on the first Thursday of May.

The whole family would wait together as my mother and sister silently and patiently awaited their chance to absolve themselves of their sins. This was crucial, as it was one of only two chances during the year they would get to become truly pure and free of evil. Women of all ages, ranging from children to the elderly, took part in the ceremony at their designated times. Young girls were obligated to partake in the ritual with their mothers and even their grandmothers.

As with all males of the parish, my father and I did not participate in confession in the same manner as the females. Our church allowed men to simply acknowledge their sins in private, asking the Lord for forgiveness in their prayers every night. I never quite understood why only my sister and mother were allowed to go into the confessional chamber. As a young boy, I was very curious to see what the inside of the chamber looked like.

The chamber seemed rather large from the outside. Built along the anterior wall of the church, it was enclosed in finished solid oak. Light would enter from the stained glass dome which topped the structure. There were no windows or other openings along the walls, ensuring complete privacy. Statues of a religious nature adorned its thick outer walls. Beautiful patterns were carefully carved into the spaces between them.

Even as a young boy, I could truly appreciate the artistry and work involved in the design, making me wish I could get to see inside.

The procedure was the same each confessional afternoon since I was a child. Just prior to the ceremony, a nun in a grey habit and veil would stand at the door of the confessional the whole time with her head bowed in prayer. When the priest was ready, the door would open a crack. The nun would look up through the crack and nod solemnly at whoever was on the other side. She would then look in our direction, and quietly motion with her hand that it was time to enter.

My mother would whisper into my sister’s ear that it was their time to go with the nun into the confessional chamber. The nun then looked at my father and me. My father nodded back at her and we would both go and sit in the pews. I obediently went with my father towards the pews. But before I sat down, I caught a quick glimpse of the nun directing my mother and sister into the large confessional chamber. The door was then closed all the way.

I was far too young to know what actually transpired inside that large wooden room. And for the next half hour or so I would kneel at the pews with my father in a prayer position. But instead of prayer, my mind kept focusing on what was happening to my mother and sister every confessional afternoon. Eventually, my mother and sister would silently approach us from behind. My mother softly tapped my father on the shoulder indicating it was time to go.

As we both rose from the pew, I couldn’t help but notice both my mother and sister’s long, dark hair was damp and flat. Just as it was after they had taken a bath at home. Also, their church attire was not as neat as it was when we arrived. Sometimes a button would be loose or their pantyhose would be bunched up in places. This was a very easy thing to notice, as mother would meticulously make sure everyone’s attire was prim and perfect before we left the house.

As a small boy, I used to imagine there was a swimming pool inside that room! Of course I knew the confessional room was a little too small to fit a whole pool.

Although my curiosity was staggering, I was too shy to actually ask anyone in my family or even at school about what happened during the confessional ritual. I guess I figured if I was really supposed to know, they would eventually talk about it in Sunday school.

Today I was a man of eighteen years, having celebrated my last birthday only two weeks before. My sister Lucy was twenty-one. pendik escort She had blossomed into a beautiful young woman, just like our mother.

They resembled each other indeed, my mother being the taller of the two by only three or four inches. Along with the aforementioned long, dark hair, they both had striking green eyes. Underneath their rather conservative clothing, it was somewhat apparent that they both had very thin waists and moderately sized busts. Their legs were long but still in perfect proportion to the rest of their respective physiques.

Ever since I was a teenager, I couldn’t resist occasionally thinking about what my mother and sister looked like under their clothes.

In fact, I would have been curious to see just about any girl or woman naked at the time. Unfortunately, boys and girls were forced to attend separate classes in school. I was rarely around girls in general, except of course my mother and sister. I would also see my aunts and female cousins occasionally, but that was nearly it.

When I was in the presence of other women, especially those I found physically attractive, I couldn’t help but feel tremendously shy and reserved. I could not even bring myself to look at them for more than a couple of seconds before looking down at my shoes. This was because of the way my parents raised me.

Growing up, my parents sometimes lectured me and Lucy about the dangers of ‘impure thoughts.’ According to them, a boy must never give in to the evils of these thoughts. It was considered shameful and sinful. Giving in to such temptation would ensure an eternity of torture and pain after death.

Nudity of any kind was completely forbidden in our house, as it was considered shameful according to our family’s religious beliefs. My sister and I were taught to be completely discreet around each other, just as our parents were around us. We were taught to never consciously reveal our ‘private parts’ to anyone at anytime. It was sinful, and because of my upbringing, I couldn’t help feeling ashamed of my curiosity. But it was unavoidable.

I knew that girl’s bodies were different from boys, but I had no real evidence. I, like every other boy my age I had ever spoken to, had never seen the female form unclothed.

During this time, especially in this small community, the opportunity to see a female completely disrobed was almost non-existent. And if such an opportunity had managed to come about, this community’s small but pious population would surely put a stop to it immediately. I just had to accept that my curiosity would have to go unsatisfied no matter what I felt.

Since I was younger, Lucy’s friends would meet with her at our house every morning before school. I felt like there was something I liked about them. Since some of them were close to my age, I couldn’t help feeling especially curious about their developing bodies. As difficult as it was to admit to myself, I often imagined them without clothes on.

But I was convinced that these strange yet consistent feelings I started to feel as a teenager towards them and other women were evil. I feared the fate of eternal torture from a young age. Thus, I learned to suppress these feelings completely. As I got older, part of me wanted to challenge those beliefs instead. But the fear of consequences kept my temptations under control. That is, until I turned eighteen.

It was the first Thursday of May, meaning the Ritual of Confession would be later that afternoon. Lucy and I returned home from school, and were immediately sent to our rooms. My mother individually laid out our church attire before we came home. Since I can remember, my mother did everything she could to ensure we were always early for our designated confession time.

It was reserved just for us, after all. No two families were ever assigned to appear for confession at the same time, and no other church activities were ever scheduled. Only a few Sisters of the church and a single priest would be present in order to tend to the Ritual.

We all did whatever we could to make sure Mother’s efforts went unhindered. My father spared not a second when he came home from work. He would go straight to the main bedroom and get changed from his work clothes into his church suit. He would usually be the first to be ready. He waited patiently on the couch in our living room for the rest of the family to prepare themselves.

My mother would make sure I had dressed myself neatly and properly before attending to Lucy. When she was satisfied that I was fully prepared for church, she sent me downstairs to sit in the living room with my father. She would then hurry to my sister’s bedroom and help her prepare. About twenty minutes later, both would come down the stairs ready, and we would all leave together.

On this sunny afternoon, as with every first Thursday of May, I joined my father on the living room couch as we waited for my mother and sister to come down. As soon as I took a seat next to escort pendik him, he turned to speak to me.

“Son,” he started. “Since you were born, the Church did not allow fathers with young boys to allow their sons to stay alone while their wives and daughters took part in the Ritual of Confession.”

“Two weeks ago you turned eighteen. You’re now a man. There’s no reason we cannot be present together as a family. From now on, starting today, we will no longer sit in the pews during our family’s evening of penance. You and I will be joining your mother and sister inside the confessional chamber. We will be present to observe and also to provide moral respect and support for our ladies as every loving family should.”

“Yes, Father.” I responded obediently. Inside, there was so much I wanted to ask. But again, I figured if there was more I had to know at this time, I would have been told. Finally, I thought, I would at least get to see what the inside of the confessional chamber looked like. Little did I know, however, that more went on in that chamber than I could have ever expected.

Shortly afterwards, my sister came down the stairs, followed by my mother. Lucy was dressed in her loose white church blouse with ivory buttons trailed down the middle. Her silver necklace hung from her neck. She wore a black skirt which stopped just above her knee. The revealed portions of her legs were covered in dark stockings. She wore black elegant high heels on her feet. Her long hair was fastened by hair pins behind her head. Only a small amount of makeup was applied to her beautiful face.

My mother’s face was equally beautiful, and didn’t need any more make-up than my sister. Her facial features were sharp and angular, as opposed to Lucy’s more youthful, rounder attributes. Mother wore a plain long puffy black dress. Her hair was styled just like Lucy’s.

When they reached the bottom of the stairs, my father, sister and I lined up for my mother’s final inspection. After our ties were tightened, collars were straightened, etc., it was time to leave.

We arrived at the church with a few minutes to spare, as usual. We approached the front of the confessional chamber, and I started to become a little anxious to see what was behind those oak walls. We paused for a second. Sister Helen, whom we have seen many times before during Sunday mass and during confessional afternoons, greeted my parents.

“Good evening.” she said with a smile.

“Good evening Sister Helen.” My father responded. “It is nice to see you again. I thought I should let you know that as Lucy’s brother is now a fully grown man, he and I will be present during the Ritual of Confession from now on.”

“That is wonderful.” She said happily. “My, how much he has grown! What a wonderful gesture, supporting his sister during this Ritual. God Bless. The chamber is ready for you now.”

“Thank you.” My father said. He glanced at my mother. She quickly led my sister inside. My father and I followed. I took a deep breath, and entered the room with the rest of my family as Sister Helen closed the door behind us.

I always assumed the interior somewhat resembled the solid oak exterior walls. It was nothing like I imagined it! The interior walls and floor of the confessional chamber were covered in stunning gray and blue marble stone. The large clear stained glass ceiling provided full illumination to the entire chamber.

A small, white, circular basin of water was constructed into the center of the room. The whole room seemed to glimmer due to the dancing ribbons of light created as a result of the sunlight reflecting off of the sparkling water. Under the water, three large white porcelain steps led to the tiled bottom, making the basin about a foot and a half deep. About a metre to the right of the basin stood a simple white porcelain sink with brass handles.

Beside the sink was a small tray with white towels, a bronze ladle, and two vials of yellowish liquid. On the left side of the basin was a large white silk curtain, hung on a thin brass frame. Off to the far right corner of the chamber there was a wooden kneeler.

And there was my sister, facing a symbolic cross on the front wall of the chamber. Her back was facing us. A nun stood at either side of her. Sister Ruth on Lucy’s left and Sister Beth on her right. I recognized them from Sunday mass, both having been part of our parish as far as I could remember. That was all I knew about them.

All three ladies had their hands folded in front of them, looking forward. My mother, father and I did the same as we all stood side by side about four metres away, quietly watching the commencement of the ceremony.

“My child,” Sister Ruth began, “Why do you stand before the Lord today?”

Lucy rolled her eyes up to the ceiling, took a deep breath, and responded, “To ask His forgiveness for the sins I am about to confess.” She had obviously given this response countless times, as indicated by her tone.

“Very pendik escort bayan well.” The nun continued. “It is now time to bare your entire body in front of the Lord and your loved ones. You were born without sin, without guilt, and free of all material possessions. Your body will be stripped completely naked so that you may prove to the Lord you have nothing to hide in His presence.”

With that, Lucy was led by the two nuns behind the white screen beside the basin. From the other side, the black silhouettes of all three women were projected on the thin curtain. Every movement was clearly seen.

It was evident that one of the nuns was in front of Lucy, while the other was behind her. I could see Lucy’s shadow step out of her heels and take a small step forward. She lowered her hands to her sides and stood perfectly still, in between the shadows of the two nuns. Her shadow stood sideways from where my family and I were standing. My excitement was building faster and faster as I continued to look on with widening eyes.

The nun in front reached up and started to undo the buttons of my sister’s Sunday blouse. Every sound of what was going on could be heard from where my family and I were standing.

She undid each button, one by one from top to bottom until the blouse was completely open. She then grabbed the collar of the blouse and pulled it up and over Lucy’s shoulders. The blouse was released, allowing it to slide down Lucy’s arms. Lucy wriggled a bit to loosen the ends of the sleeves from her wrists and allowed the blouse to fall to the floor.

At the same time, the nun behind her slid the zipper of her black skirt down its length, making a low buzzing sound as the zipper’s tiny metal teeth were unfastened. The nun slid her thumbs into the top of Lucy’s black Sunday skirt and proceeded to slide it all the way down her long legs. The skirt was now bunched up around her ankles. Lucy pulled her feet out of the skirt, kicking it gently behind her with her heels.

My breathing was becoming rapid as my heart was pounding hard against my chest. I could not believe what was happening.

In this brief moment, my sister was stripped to her underwear, and I was enthralled by the sight of her half naked form. If only I could see her behind the screen. I took note of every curve I could see of my sister’s body.

Until now, they were obscured by her loose, conservative clothing. Her slender shoulders, thin waist, small pronounced hips, the graceful small of her back, and her long legs were all revealed to me for the first time. I never really realized until now how truly beautiful women’s bodies were. But this was just beginning.

The nun behind her tugged at the back of Lucy’s brassiere. After hearing a low ‘snap’, my sister’s unclasped brassiere was whisked away from behind her. The other nun reached up to grab the sides of Lucy’s panties. In one quick motion, they were pulled down from her waist, past her knees, and down to her ankles. The nun behind Lucy came around and knelt on her left side while the other moved herself over to Lucy’s right.

As quickly as her panties came down, so did both her stockings simultaneously. Lucy lifted one foot, then the other, stepping out of her panties and allowing the nuns to pull her stockings all the way off. The nuns stood up. One of them started to gather all of Lucy’s clothing off the floor. The other stood before Lucy with an open palm and instructed,

“Please remove all your jewelry. That includes your necklace, bracelets, and also your hair-pins.”

Lucy bowed her head and brought the thin chain of her necklace over her head. She then placed it in the nun’s open hand. Next she proceeded with her bracelets. At the same time, the other nun had just finished neatly folding all of Lucy’s clothing and piled them neatly in her arms. It was Sister Ruth who stepped out from behind the curtain and placed the pile under the white porcelain sink. She then reached over and turned one of the brass handles, letting the water run.

Lucy was now carefully pulling out her hair-pins one by one. Her shadow now stood at a slight angle towards us. With her arms raised, she presented her entire unobstructed form to her family. What a sight to behold.

I took this opportunity to carefully examine my sister’s body from top to bottom. After all, this would be the only context I would be allowed to see any woman completely disrobed until I decided to take a wife. I was excited, even if it was just a shadow.

My excitement continued to rise as I let my eyes travel from the graceful curve of her neck and shoulders and down to her pear-shaped breasts. Her breasts appeared to be weightless as they naturally perked upwards. Her flat stomach met her smooth navel which was centered between her lean, round hips.

My eyes continued to travel down her long thighs and legs and then back up to her head. She swiftly shook her head from side to side to loosen her long hair, now free of her hairpins.

Sister Beth collected the last of Lucy’s belongings and placed them atop the pile of clothing beside the sink. She then walked back to my sister behind the curtain as I watched her shadow take Lucy by the hand.

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