Chapter 1.5

As the moment she’d longed for arrived, she felt as if her heartbeat echoed loudly in her ears.

How desperately she’d wanted to voice the thoughts in her mind.

“Um……”

Erta softly opened her mouth, breaking the silence. Because the room was empty without furniture, her voice echoed quite loudly.

Surely, her voice had been heard, yet the other side of the hole remained quiet.

‘Could it be that no one’s there?’

Perhaps there was actually no one on the other side, and this was merely meant to create a sense of penance?

Such doubts briefly crossed Erta’s mind.

Now that she thought about it, when the young ladies had spoken about this place, she didn’t recall hearing about someone actually being there to listen.

‘No, surely not.’

She didn’t want to believe it, but strangely, the other side remained silent.

Her great anticipation began deflating into disappointment.

“You may speak.”

‘……!!’

From the other side, someone’s voice flowed through the hole. It was a pleasant, low, masculine voice.

‘A man. A priest, then.’

Since the young ladies had said they comfortably shared their hearts here, Erta had unconsciously assumed the listener would be a female priestess.

Though gender didn’t particularly matter, she hesitated slightly, wondering if it was appropriate to share such a personal story with a man.

‘Would he perhaps refuse to listen?’

After his prompt to speak, silence lingered for a few seconds.

Noticing Erta’s hesitation, the priest reassured her gently.

“It’s alright. Whatever it is you wish to say, please feel free to speak.”

His calm, low voice made Erta feel much more at ease.

It was a solid and reassuring voice, as if it would embrace whatever she had to say.

‘Right. I’ve come this far; I can’t just go back. Besides, there might not be another chance.’

Thanks to his reassurance, Erta finally gathered the courage to speak her first words.

“I… I want someone to hit me.”  

“…Pardon?”

Naturally, it was not at all what he had expected, and the priest’s voice was clearly taken aback.

It was an expected reaction. Unbothered, Erta continued speaking.

“And I wish someone would tightly tie me up so that I couldn’t move at all.”

She thought, ‘He doesn’t know who I am anyway.’ Since she had started, she had no intention of stopping.

“It’s important that I’m tied up with thick ropes that I can’t undo. Then, if I struggle, they would hit my delicate skin, telling me to stay still. If that happened, I…”

As she paused to take a breath before continuing, it seemed that the person on the other side of the hole had also stopped breathing.

“I might faint from happiness.”

“…I see.”

A small response followed. Erta gradually gained courage. Thus, she began to unfold the stories hidden deep within her, one by one.

She added that she wanted her wrists tied, leaving her helpless and unable to resist.

“That’s not all. I often imagine someone roughly tearing off my clothes while I’m restrained.”

“I’m sure there are other things. What else do you imagine?”

There was a peculiar power in the priest’s voice.

It had the ability to make Erta’s confessions seem less unusual than she’d expected.

Moreover, he gently prompted her, encouraging Erta to reveal more of her inner thoughts.

“…Really, is it alright to continue?”

Her voice carried an excitement akin to a child holding a new toy for the first time.

“Of course. Whatever is in your heart, Sister, you may speak freely here.”

Perhaps startled only at first, the priest on the other side now actively participated in Erta’s story.

“So, what else do you find appealing?”

“Hmm, also… when my bare skin peeks through my torn clothes, I’d feel happy if someone smacked my pale bottom firmly.”

“Is simply being smacked enough for you?”

Despite the sensitive subject, Erta felt comfortable responding thanks to his calm manner.

“Actually, wouldn’t it be thrilling if they spoke some harsher words while doing so? Being hit with a large hand is good, and using tools like a whip or paddle would be nice too.”

Erta continued sharing her fantasies about being dominated and roughly treated.

As before, the priest responded encouragingly, maintaining a similar line of questioning.

However—

“So, that’s the kind of thing you enjoy, Sister. Then, what about during actual penetration?”

“…Pardon?”

Caught off guard by the unexpected question, Erta reflexively asked again. 

Penetration? Had I heard correctly?

Though he must have clearly noticed Erta’s momentary hesitation, the man calmly repeated himself without hesitation.

“What you’ve described ultimately relates to your s*xual preferences. Of course, binding, striking, and harsh words are important, but I thought perhaps the moment of actual penetration would be the most crucial.”

His logically structured words held a strange persuasiveness.

‘Well, I was the one who brought up this topic first.’

If not for Erta, this man would likely be listening to ordinary young ladies’ love stories or trivial concerns today, rather than such explicit discussions.

It was evident that would have been more comfortable for the priest as well.

Realizing this, Erta felt even more grateful for his effort to listen attentively, show interest, and engage in their conversation.

Even briefly feeling uncomfortable seemed ungrateful now.

“I asked this question hoping to have a deeper conversation with you, Sister, but if you felt uncomfortable, I apologize.”

However, as Erta’s silence continued, he spoke first.

His voice was filled with sincere apology. Although they weren’t facing each other, she could clearly sense his expression.

“Oh, no! It’s not like that…”

To think she’d hesitated, despite desperately wanting someone to talk to about this topic.

Even though he couldn’t see her, Erta waved her hands in denial.

“I’m relieved to hear that. Then, let me ask again. What kind of penetration do you prefer?”

Even knowing she had to answer this time, Erta found herself speechless. 

What kind of penetration do I prefer? 

She’d never even imagined such things clearly.

“Um, I…”

‘I’ve never thought about it.’

Naturally, Erta had no actual experience.

Perhaps because of this, even the man who always tormented Erta in her dreams only used fingers or tools on her intimate area, never proceeding to actual penetration.

In fact, Erta had tried inserting her own fingers before.

However, without the excitement of her fantasies, she found it difficult to feel any stimulation. After that, she hadn’t particularly thought about how she’d prefer penetration.

Suddenly, it occurred to her that the reason she’d always imagined being treated roughly but hadn’t clearly envisioned penetration was precisely because it involved insertion.

Once she realized this, Erta understood more clearly what she’d truly desired.

Words began to flow from her mouth naturally.

“…When a large, tight-fitting member is deep inside me, I’d like my thighs spread wide apart to their limit, pressuring and tormenting me.”

In the end, Erta answered the question. Once she’d actually said it aloud, it felt as insignificant as when she’d first started.

Thus, Erta added another confession.

“How wonderful would it be if he continued to thrust into me and hit me, no matter how much I begged him to stop, enjoying watching me cry?”

Like water bursting through a dam, her words showed no sign of stopping.

“Oh, and it would also be nice if my eyes were blindfolded or my mouth covered, preventing me from seeing or speaking!”

“I see. I now fully understand what you prefer, Sister.”

Did he really need to understand it? 

Such a question briefly crossed her mind, but Erta decided not to dwell on it.

‘He’s so good at empathizing.’

After all, the priest on the other side was clearly doing his best to listen, understand, and sympathize with her words.

After pouring out everything she’d held inside, Erta felt a slight embarrassment creeping in. She cleared her throat gently.

“Thank you so much for listening today.”

She truly meant it. The reason her heart felt so light now was entirely thanks to the priest on the other side who had calmly listened to a story that would have shocked anyone else.

Though she didn’t even know his face, gratitude welled up inside her.

However, the priest beyond the hole replied in the same calm voice as before.

“No need to thank me. If your heart feels lighter, Sister, then I’ve done my duty.”

Erta stood up from the chair and left the cathedral with an expression twice as refreshed as when she’d entered.

When Erta returned to the mansion after finishing her confession, a maid asked her,

“Miss, did something good happen today?”

Recently, Erta had seemed so listless. Yet, for some reason, today she appeared particularly lively and cheerful.

The servants had been quietly worrying about Erta lately, so the maid who asked showed genuine delight.

“Hmm. You could say that.”

“I don’t know what it is, but I’m very glad for you!”

Since she couldn’t exactly say she was happy because she’d confessed how she wanted to be treated intimately, Erta simply smiled kindly and gave a short reply.

“Thank you.”

That night, Erta fell asleep more comfortably than ever before.

Who knew that merely telling someone could bring such happiness?

Tonight, she felt she wouldn’t even need the dreams that had previously projected her fantasies.