Chapter 4

After a restless, troubled sleep, Sister Gabrielle moped through her classes. Her experience teaching the subject was the only thing that got her through the day. But when Cara was in the classroom, she had a harder time concentrating. Losing her train of thought, she stumbled over words. She even called another girl Cara once to her humiliating embarrassment. At the time, her eyes shot to Cara who smiled sweetly.

The days went by. Each night, Sister Gabrielle tried reading the Saint Elizabeth Ann Seton biography. Until recently, she hadn’t been able to put the book down. Now she couldn’t get through a single page. Her comfortable routine was replaced by another. She’d lie in bed staring up at the ceiling and, more times than not, jump out of bed and drop to her knees. Facing the cross on the wall, she prayed for forgiveness and to help her understand. She had been so sure of her faith her whole life, but now questioned God. How could He make her body different than Cara’s? Why would he allow Cara to experience pleasure when touching herself down there, but not her? Not that she should receive pleasure. It was a sin. But why did Cara? That’s what the nun asked, but what she really wanted to know was what was wrong with her?

One day after morning prayers, Sister Gabrielle headed back to the convent, deep in troubled thoughts.

“Sister Gabrielle,” the Reverend Mother shouted. Sister Gabrielle stopped and spun around. “Aren’t you going in the wrong direction?”

The confused nun looked around. All the other nuns were walking toward the schools. “Oh yes, I don’t know what I was thinking.”

“Are you all right? You seem out of sorts lately.”

“No, Reverend Mother, I’m fine. I just haven’t been sleeping. I better get to class.”

Sister Gabrielle rushed past the Reverend Mother, not slowing down until she had caught up to the other teachers. That day was worse than the others. She mixed up students’ names, assigned the wrong chapter to read in one class, and was so distraught in the class with Cara that she could barely get through it. Something had to be done.

After the classes ended for the day, Sister Gabrielle sat at her office desk. She wasn’t working on lesson plans. Wasn’t grading papers. Wasn’t doing administrative tasks. She sat with her elbows on the desktop, her hands cupping both sides of her face to hold her head up, and her eyes fixed on the closed door. Finally, she heard the knock.

“Come in.”

The door opened and Cara took one step into the office. One hand remained on the doorknob, a worried look on her face. In the other hand, she held up the note Sister Gabrielle had given her in class.

“You wanted to see me, Sister?”

“Yes, come in and sit down.”

“Did I do something wrong?”

“Please close the door and sit down.”

Cara hesitated for a moment before closing the door. She stood there, hugging her bookbag to her body, chewing her bottom lip. Sister Gabrielle pointed to the chairs on the other side of her desk. Only then did the young girl move. She took small, deliberate steps, like she was walking to the gallows. Cara dropped her bookbag on the floor as she plopped down in one of the visitor chairs. She sat with shoulders slumped, wringing her hands in her lap.

“Am I in trouble?” Cara asked.

“I want to talk to you about the last time we met here.”

“Oh, Sister Gabrielle, I told you I was sorry. I misunderstood you.”

“I want you to do it again.”

“What!” Cara sat up straight. “Omigod! I can’t. Not in front of you. Why?”

“I have my reasons.”

“Will I get into trouble?”

“No. Not if you do it.”

Sister Gabrielle stood up and walked to the door. Cara’s eyes followed her every step. The nun turned the lock.

Click.

Cara flinched. It sounded like a gunshot.

Then Sister Gabrielle turned and went back to her chair and sat down at her desk. Clasping her hands under her chin with elbows on the desktop, she waited with her eyes boring into Cara.

The room was deathly quiet. Cara stared at Sister Gabrielle for what must have seemed an eternity to the young girl, but was only a dozen or so seconds, before grabbing the bottom of her plaid skirt. Sister Gabrielle watched the skirt rise up the girl’s skinny legs all the way to her waist. Today her panties were nylon. Light green. Cara’s other hand trembled as it slowly made its way to the front of her panties. She pulled her hand back as if it had touched a burning coal.

“Why are you making me do this?” Cara asked.

“I have my reasons. Please continue.”

Cara spread her legs and placed two fingertips on the same spot she had the other day, and then her fingers moved side to side. Cara’s face was beet red. Sister Gabrielle stared at the girl’s fingers. Studying the location. The movement. Unlike the previous time, Cara’s eyes were open and boring into the nun.

“Doesn’t that hurt?” Sister Gabrielle asked.

“Huh?” The fingers stopped moving. “No. It usually feels good.”

“But not today?”

The girl shook her head.

“Why not?” Sister Gabrielle asked.

“I’m embarrassed. Why are you making me do this?”

“I want to learn. I want to know why it doesn’t hurt.”

“Why would it hurt?”

The conversation was odd, but not as strange as having a young girl sitting in her teacher’s office, a nun’s office, with her skirt bunched at her waist, her legs spread, and her fingers resting on the front of her green panties.

Sister Gabrielle took a deep breath and let the air out. “I tried it and it hurt.”

“You did? Nuns do it?”

“I tried it. I wanted to know what it felt like for you. But it hurt.”

“It shouldn’t hurt. Maybe you did it wrong.”

“That’s why you’re here. To show me the right way. Who taught you?”

“No one taught me. I just, um, did it and learned what felt good.”

“Then show me what feels good. I need to know.”

“Why?”

“I just need to.”

Cara stared at Sister Gabrielle as her fingers moved. Slowly. Side to side. Her fingers pressed down on the green panties and soon her legs spread further. Her eyes closed and her mouth opened. Her breathing got heavier.

Sister Gabrielle alternated between watching the girl’s fingers and her face. That angelic look was back. She wondered if the girl had forgotten about her, caught up in her own rapture. Sister Gabrielle stood, walked around the desk, and sat in the chair next to Cara. Cara’s fingers sped up and her breathing became ragged.

Sister Gabrielle held the cross hanging around her neck to keep it from swinging and leaned forward to get a closer look. She was inches away from Cara’s rubbing fingers. Three fingers now. She was sure that was where she had touched herself. There was also an unfamiliar odor.

Sister Gabrielle sat up and grabbed Cara’s forearm. The girl flinched at the unexpected touch. Her eyes popped open and she gawked at the nun who was now sitting next to her.

“May I ask another favor?” Sister Gabrielle asked.

Cara took panting breaths. Her orgasm had been building and she now tried to calm down enough to speak.

“What?” Cara asked, a little annoyed.

“I can’t really see what you’re doing with your underwear on.”

Cara’s eyes popped open wide. “What do you mean?”

“Please take them off.”

“Here? With you here?”

“I can’t see what you’re touching.”

“But you’ll see my pu— My privates.”

“Like you said the other day, we’re both girls.” Sister Gabrielle squeezed Cara’s forearm. “I’m asking as a favor, not as your teacher. You don’t have to do it, but ever since that day, I’ve been a wreck. I can’t sleep, can’t concentrate. I can’t do my job. I can’t do anything. I’m jittery all the time and confused. I’m lost. I pray all the time for guidance, but nothing helps.”

“That’s what I did.”

“What?”

“Prayed. I didn’t get any answers either. I know how you feel so, okay, I’ll do it. But I won’t lie. It’s really uncomfortable with you here.”