Thin fingers, crumpling bedspread ...

I, going down on this devilishly beautiful body ...

I shake my head, driving away sinful thoughts. Get out, get out of my mind. But all in vain. I do not know where to go from dreams, where to go from my desires, that they overwhelm my soul, like hellish demons. More and more often at night, instead of a prayer, her name is breaking from my lips. As if reading my thoughts, the young donna looks directly into my soul, burning her with piercing eyes of black eyes. My whole heart is pierced with the sharp arrows of her eyelashes.

And I can not refuse when she comes to me again.
- Bless, padre ...
I open my hand with my palm up, I feel hot lips, she lingers with a kiss, I squeeze my fingers a little. And I catch her excited sigh in my palm. I sharply turn around and hide from the temptress in the greenhouse.

- Francis ...
A thin hand touches my coat. I close my eyes and understand that this is the end. I no longer have the strength to resist. The Lord turned away from me, depriving of His Word.
She turns my shoulder, hands rush into my hair, tilt my head. Her lips smell honey and sin. The smell of sin is soaked with it all, it penetrates under my skin and leaves its marks on me. The aroma of vice makes blood boil, I can not hold back any longer. I can not hold back. I took vows at seventeen and was faithful to them.

Hellish flames rage inside me, I must give him a way out, otherwise I will go crazy. I grab Francesca in my arms, lay her on the couch. Raise skirts, hear her moaning. Who do I pray now I do not know. Her hands are teasing the lacing of my pants. I press my lips to my chest in the neckline of the corsage. It smells of sin, vice, fornication, and craving. Italian sun and the black abyss of hell. Fresh breeze and flame of purgatory. I want to worship her and ... kill her.

- Francis ...
She whispers my name so that it rings in my ears. Or maybe it is my immortal soul dying? I squeeze her chest almost to the pain, to a short scream and unaccountable fear in her eyes. Distraught with lust, plunging into her wet, alluring darkness. I know the name of the devil. His name is Francesca. Driving into the female flesh, I want her to hurt. I see how the pupils dilate, how animal fear is ripening in black eyes. I scream myself when a flash of lightning passes through my body. I fall forehead into fragile clavicles, listening to a ringing emptiness in my head.
.
- Padre ...

Her palm strokes my face. Thin nerve fingers touch the eyelashes, feel the lips. Start when I try the pads on the taste of the tongue. Linger, and I take them in my mouth. The delightful feeling melts the mind. In response, she bites my fingers. I know the name of the devil. With his hand guides mine. (Porn stories) Where sin lives, where sin is born. I feel under the palm silk garters, delicate skin over it. The devil can dress in any guise. Her eyes are covered with a lustful veil when my hand sinks into it, tormenting this source of temptation from within.

I feel how she pulls the strings of my shirt, takes off my coat. I lean back and hear a rustling sound — throws off my overskirts, stays in thin silk that fits my legs. I don't want to face the demon.
- Padre, take a look at me ...
Weightless palms lay on my chest, walked through the stomach, dropping below. I lost my mind, lost my mind when the devil's hands clenched my hot flesh.
Caress stronger, faster, open in front of me the entrance to the black abyss. From where her eyes glowing with demonic light look at me. Throws a leg over me, down on top. Losing the remnants of the soul, I enter this body.
- Francis ...
I open my eyes. My look is in hers. Pupil to pupil. Fire in the fire. I have to face sin.
Tilts his head back, black hair caressing his back. The lacing of the corsage is untied and a cherry dot peeks out from under the white blouse. One of my hands on her thigh, the second tears the fabric on her dark chest.She speeds up, screams short and piercing, clawing my shoulders with her nails.
- Padre ...
I do not hear my own screams when my past life drops into it drop by drop.

Going fast, leaving without looking. I kneel in the room, whispering prayers, knowing that they will not hear me:
- Pater noster, qui es in caelis, sanctificetur nomen tuum ...
The way to Heaven is closed to me, this sin can never be otgolit.

Two days later, which I spent in my room, refusing food, the earl brought the answer to the cardinals. The decision that I took during my post, I will have to postpone until returning to Russia. The message of the Vatican must be handed over to brother Paul.

We are passing through Poland again, stopping under a familiar sign. A petting innkeeper boasts a fat goose cooked by his Martha. Sit at the familiar table. Zlatka brings beer mugs. I cast her strong figure, she looks down. I see what I want to say:
- Bless ...
Ask for blessings from your priest, baby. My will not help you. I clasp my hand around her waist, sit her on my knees. I see how surprised gray eyes widen. Slowly untie the lacing on the chest.
- Has she made a bed?
Molodka nods.
- You bring a jug of water?

I can feel the intoxicating, tart smell of sweat from her young village body. The beauty throws off her dress and remains in a thin linen shirt that puffs up on a full chest. To hell, ripping off a piece of annoying fabric. Under the dim light of the Polish moon, her skin gleams with white gold. It is all like thick, fresh milk. White mare A hot body clings to me, a scarlet mist fills my head. Nimble fingers free me from clothes, pushing me to bed: “Lie down.”
Strong palms conducts on a body and the last remains of mind thaw, when her lips are closed around my thirsting flesh. There is not a single thought, I put my hands on her shoulders, it seems leaving bruises. But how sweet is the taste of the fall.

Whispers to me in Polish. What? I barely open my eyes - she sits on her lap next to me. Slightly arched, gives the body closer. With a low moan, I bury my face in a white, milky belly, pushing her hips apart. I aspire to where it is hot; where passion is bubbling. Plunge into the sea of ​​sin, trying to forget what I'm going to do.

Sharply turn on his back.
"Did you want this, my daughter?"
She lies, sweeping on the bed waves of golden hair. All, I can no longer. I burst into a soft, supple body, driving all thoughts out of my head. I do not know whether it groans either from pain or from passion. And I do not want to know, I just delightfully moan madness.
Something shouts, I listen to me through the haze that fills my head.
- Padre ...
With sharp claws, it tears the skin on the back, leaving its devilish footprints.
- Padre, not so much. I ask you, sir, it hurts me.
Painfully? Freaking out of desire, I speed up even more, I see tears streaming down her cheeks. From under the white teeth, bite through the lip, shows a trickle of blood. I lick my tongue, feeling the salty taste.
I can not hear my screams through the veil of scarlet fog in my head.

We leave early in the morning, even without breakfast. I do not want to face her father. I stand, wrapped in a raincoat - chilly. I do not like Poland.

The driver looks at me slyly. Don't be jealous, I'm damned. Marked by death in Paraguay, exchanging it with an Indian.

- Is Zlatka a good Jesuit pan? - Yang asked me fervently.

“Saddle horses,” I answer through my teeth.

She looks at me from a dirty kitchen window. Hates it? All the better. I have already set foot on a path lined with good intentions and have walked most of it. In the fortress Dinaburg it remains to put the last point.

Russian empire. Fortress Dinaburg. October 1775 R.H.

I brought the answer to the Vatican. Negotiations with the Cardinals did not help, the Order of the Jesuits was officially banned.

Abyssus Abyssum Invocat (the Abyss calls out to the abyss).

I decide to take the last step that separates me from the hellfire. I have no right even to confession, for the first one betrayed the One to whom he prayed.

- Brother Francis ...

This is Paul. Frowning with anger, you are not on time, brother, came to see me.

He looks at me, looks around the dark room, sees the rope hanging from the ceiling.

- Did you decide without confession? Having sinned once, do you want to completely destroy yourself with a sin that is still big?

“I have no right, brother.”

For the first time I see him grin.

- Francesca is expecting a baby.

Stunned by the blow of these words, I turn to him. What did I want? The Lord will always tell the truth. Hide sin from Him is impossible.

“I told the earl,” continues Pavel, “that I personally freed you from your vows for the duration of the assignment.” And the d'Orsinio couple should have raised their daughter better.

I bite my lips - how simple it is. Come here, brother. This is my decision, and I judge myself, dooming me to eternal torment.

“I did not come to you for this, Francis, to stand and comfort now.” The order requires your strength, not weakness. I have no time, I am dying.

St. Petersburg. Winter Palace. December 1775 R.H.

- Father Francis?

Look up at the court marshal Catherine II. Audience at the Grand Duchess ended more than three hours ago. All this time I have been waiting in the corridor for the result of my visit.

- The highest command of Her Majesty - Empress Catherine II, - the marshal reads the decision of the august person, - the decree of Pope Clement banning the Society of Jesus is ordered to be considered invalid in the Russian Empire. The Jesuits, who arrived on the land of Russia, give in full possession of the fortress Dinaburg with the condition that they continue their educational mission. You, Holy Father, are awarded the title of General of the Order. You will only obey the Empress.

Russian empire. Polotsk. 1812th

I dictate these lines to my scribe, because my eyes no longer see. Whether the Lord will accept me after what I have done in this life, I do not know. But even if the abyss of hell is waiting for me, I leave quietly, knowing that I could save our Society.

***

The young novice laid down his pen, listened to Francis's heavy breathing. He closed the diary, bound in buffalo skin and left the room of the last general of the Order.

Per aspera ad astra - through thorns to the stars.