Autumn!

Which brings me to the door (literally) of my old school. The convent closed, without warning the year after I left. The nuns were withdrawn to the Mother House and the school and church closed with it. Not enough business to keep the Catholic Church interested, and as for the students education, well, “difficult decisions need to be made”. The one thing you will find about anyone who talks about “difficult decisions” is that you can be certain that those decisions never affect them.

So the place is closed and already the formerly immaculate grounds are overgrown and the pure white marble statue of Mary in the front lawn is now green and splattered with bird droppings. Oh we spent hours cleaning her with toothbrushes as punishments. “Scrubbing the Virgin” we called it.

There is a tall security fence around the entire site, but vandals have already found a way in. Presumably the same way I found. A gap in the fence and a carelessly unlocked side door. 

Inside smelled damp and musty, but as I wandered through the oh, so familiar place, memories came flooding back….and panties became very moist. It was here, after all that I began to discover my sexual being. 

The girls' locker room was almost pristine. After all, there’s little of interest in rows of coat hooks. The showers, those strange square with one side missing affairs with two shower heads on the remaining three walls, that was where I saw naked girls, and began to wonder, especially as I watched them wash their boobs and between their legs. The shower heads were firmly fixed. No allowing girls a quick thrill by giving us removable shower heads! 

Such Sun as there was was streaming through the frosted glass windows and the room felt warm. Warm enough for me anyway. Slowly, I slipped my coat, top and jeans off, hanging them on the hooks. A distant voice of a nun “ TOP hook for TOPs. Girls, BOTTOM hook for anything below the waist, BAGS on the benches. Sure, it’s not difficult!”  Soon, I stood there in just my panties. I allowed feelings of nervousness to overwhelm me, just like they did in the early days of my time here, when I was expected to strip in front of other girls, and two fully clothed nuns for the first time. 

Then Miss Brain gave me a little fast forward to when I would wander, alone in this room while everyone else was outside. I’d made some excuse for not doing games that day….heavy period….something the nuns wouldn’t ask for proof of…and, nervous and dry mouthed, rummage in some of the girls’ bags for their ‘day’ panties. The nuns were absolutely strict that we had to wear awful, bottle green gym knickers for PE. I remembered were I stood, the first time I took another girls panties in my hand and looked at the crotch…then…heart racing….smelled them….and then, oh, bless me father for I have sinned, licked them and held the wet patch against my cunt as I came into them. 

I realised, I was standing legs slightly apart, knees bent, back curled forward with my right hand jammed into my panties, left hand supporting me against the wall, and about to cum. I didn’t even get fully naked. The orgasm was violent. No other word for it. And I squirted into my panties. 

The cum seemed to last forever before, like  thunder, it rolled into the distance…and I realised I was crying. Tears coursed down my face, and soon I was sobbing uncontrollably. Why? Maybe the loss of this place where I spent my entire childhood. Maybe that here, in this room was where I discovered my sexuality. Maybe even a little jealousy because in rooms like this up and down the country, other girls are embarking on the same wonderful journey. I can’t really understand it because the nuns could be cruel, brutal, in fact. This school was a place of the strictest discipline. If they were allowed to, I have no doubt they would have caned us on a regular basis. Why, then, the tears? 

One more thing to do in this room. I eased my panties off, and hung them, against the rules, on the TOP hook, and FUCK the rules! When they tear this place down, as inevitably they will, there will be a part of me here. 

On the way out after I dressed, I passed the door to the church. I hadn’t intended to go inside, but I found myself opening the door anyway. The holy water stoup is long dried out of course. Nonetheless, I dipped a finger in it and crossed myself. Likewise, the tabernacle doors stood wide open, the Blessed Sacrament long gone. Nonetheless, I genuflected as I had been taught all those years ago. Over to my right, the double confessional box where, we suspected, the priest knocked out out while we were confessing, sometimes in great detail, our dirty little sins. To my rear, and above me, the pipe organ. God, how I had a crush on the organist. He also taught the choir which I was in, not because I particularly enjoyed singing, but because I got to perv him….and choir practice happened during double Latin! 

Then, to both my and Miss Brain’s surprise. I knelt and prayed. I prayed for all the girls who had passed through this place, and I even prayed for the nuns and monks too, evil as some of them were. I hope they find peace. 

When finally I squeezed through the security fence and re-emerged into the world, I felt that I had rid myself of a burden I didn’t know I was carrying….

…plus, I had enjoyed a truly immense orgasm.