Juicy Secrets Forbidden Tales of Lesbian Love

By Amanda

1796 – New York 

My shames were never-ending, it seemed, in Josephine’s care. I had been there a month and had been allowed only on Mondays to don clothing. She would take me with her to the weekly party where I served the tea, and when I did not have other duties I would kneel quietly next to her.

We would no sooner enter the coach to return home than she would order me out of my dress. Perhaps the sole saving grace was that I knew Josephine employed only women in her home, save the coach driver.

I was bathed and perfumed every day, as I believe she was as well. I would take breakfast in my room, served by Sandra, and then I was expected to join Josephine in her parlor. I would kneel at her feet as she read to me or played her harp. Often she would order me to serve her, and dutifully I obliged.

If she toured her estate, I could always be found in tow, five paces behind her. If she visited her stables or her kennels, there I was, my head bowed, my eyes lowered, five paces behind her, expected to silently accompany her.

I endured the giggles and insults and prodding of the women at the tea party, as they knew what Josephine did with me, but in their teasing I could hear some element of envy. Josephine was not unlike Catherine in many respects, and there were those who would give anything to take my place.

I must admit that at the time I doubted what I might be learning, but was determined to persevere. Catherine occupied a nearly godlike place in my heart and she had endured this very treatment. It had served to make her strong and confident and if it could do that for her, surely it would do the same for me.

I met with what I believe even to this day to be the greatest humiliation I endured on a particular Monday after our tea party when Josephine did not order me to undress once we reached the coach. It was fall and cooler now, and so I assumed she pitied my nakedness in the cold air. Indeed throughout the winter I was allowed to remain in my underclothing in both home and coach, but that was not why she let me keep my dress on that evening.

We rode through Manhattan until we came to an alley where the coachman stopped and helped us out. I could hear laughter and noise coming from the building across the street, and looking at it, I found it was a tavern. I wondered as we approached if this place was at all like Catherine’s, though I had been told that no such place existed in New York City.

We entered to find a very ordinary tavern. Josephine ordered ale for us and we sat quietly at a table drinking while a man played the piano and a woman sang. I did not know it, but Josephine had a reason for bringing us here. She knew people all over the city, and not all of them were the very rich.

A bar maid approached the table and Josephine smiled up at her. The girl sat down, averting her eyes from my escort but looking me over carefully. “This is Caroline,” Josephine told me.

“Pleased to meet you,” I said. She smiled and bowed her head quickly. Her attention, though not her eyes, returned to Josephine.

“M’lady, I did not expect to see you again,” she said.

“Come now, dear, you know you’ll always be near to my heart.”

The girl smiled but kept her eyes low. I watched this quietly, believing that this girl must have been under my mistress’s care at some time. I felt a note of jealousy, and it surprised me. More so, I wondered why we were here.

Caroline brought us another ale each. She joined us again and I noticed that the bartender scowled but did not say anything. The girl sat sipping rum while we drank.

I had begun feeling a bit dizzy by the time we left the tavern. Caroline came with us. Josephine stopped us in the alley before we reached the carriage and pressed the bar maid against the wall. She kissed her as she reached between the girl’s legs and massaged her sex. Caroline gave a shudder and immediately began rocking her hips. “Oh, how I’ve missed you, m’lady,” she whispered.

My mistress stepped away from the girl, leaving her leaning panting against the wall. “Serve her,” Josephine ordered as she stepped past me.

I gasped and shook my head. We easily could be seen from the street if anyone were to look, and I dared not do such a thing.

“Why do you hesitate?” Josephine growled at me, stepping close. She grabbed my arm and pulled me to where Caroline leaned against the wall. “Serve her,” she spat, as she grabbed my shoulders and pushed me down to my knees. I looked up, quite frightened, to find Caroline appearing concerned.

“You’ll get the glove,” she whispered. “Do as she bids.”

“Listen to her, girl,” Josephine said from behind me.

I nodded my head and said what I had come to realize I must always have to say. “If it pleases you, my mistress.”

Filled with shame, I lifted Caroline’s dress, finding that, like my mistress, she wore only a garter belt and stockings. I covered my head with the dress and leaned close. She smelled wonderful and I felt my belly tighten.

I covered her sex with my mouth and began to lick and suck her clitoris. The girl moved her hips in a slow undulation as I lapped at her juices. I could hear her moaning and it excited me.

For all of the shame and fear I felt, I could not help but revel in the act. She tasted wonderful and I so loved performing this forbidden kiss. It was too exquisite to miss out on, and I wondered how normal women managed to find any joy in life at all.

I continued licking her juices and teasing her clitoris with my tongue. My fingers were buried inside her sex and I pumped them in and out as she ground her hips against my hand.

Caroline gasped and began moving more quickly. I increased the pressure I was putting on her sex with my tongue, while driving my fingers deeper within. The girl slapped her hands against the wall and groaned, clearly trying to keep her voice down. I sucked her and drew out her orgasm for as long as I could.

When at last I had finished, I withdrew from under her dress and stood, wiping my chin on my glove. Caroline stood next to me catching her breath. I glanced up at Josephine to see she looked quite satisfied.

“Get in to the coach girl,” she ordered, and I did as I was told.

I listened as the two talked quietly for just a moment before Josephine dismissed the girl. I saw Caroline hurry across the street and back into the tavern. My mistress soon entered the carriage and ordered me out of my clothing.

I had thought as we arrived home that the night had ended. It was late, and when Josephine sent me to my bedchamber, I thought surely I was meant to go to sleep. It was not until several minutes after I had climbed beneath the covers that she came to my room and ordered me out of bed.

She moved toward me slowly, hands behind her back. “I had so feared I would not get to use this on you, girl. After all you’re the perfect slut for me.” She brought her arms forward and on her right hand I saw a long black leather glove. Caroline’s warning immediately sprang to mind.

Josephine grabbed my arm and pushed me over the edge of the bed. I hardly had time to think before she drew back her hand and brought it down upon my bare buttocks with a thunderous slap. I cried out in shock, humiliation, and pain. Again she brought her hand down and I felt tears well in my eyes.

“Don’t cry out again, or it’s two more,” she warned me. “Now thank me for my love.”

“Thank you, mistress,” I sobbed.

“Beg me for another.”

I hesitated, and this was enough to cause her to bring her hand down again. I grunted from the pain.

“Please my mistress, another.” And she obliged. Tears streamed down my cheeks. I was outraged, humiliated, ashamed and worse than anything, rather stimulated. She struck me three more times, forcing me to thank her and beg for more.

“You swore an oath,” she said, pulling me up and turning me about. “From now on, you shall always do as you are told, shall you not?”

Tears in my eyes, I was trembling and sobbing, but nodded my head dutifully. “If it pleases you, my mistress.”

I slept little that night. In the morning when Sandra opened the heavy curtains over my windows, she found me lying on my belly, naked in my bed, tear stains dried on my cheeks. I hardly noticed the mournful look she gave me.

“We’ve all had the glove,” she said sadly as she sat down next to me.

“You were her student?”

“It does not matter,” Sandra responded, shaking her head. She began stroking my back, and this comforted me. Fresh tears rolled down my cheeks. “Still, it is not such a bad place to be, miss.”

I looked up at her and tried to smile. “Did you know what she was when you came here?” I asked.

“We’re all here because of her… appetites.” She looked down at me. “None of us on the staff would choose a man if there was any other option. She finds us… I don’t know how.” A smile played at her lips. “She does take good care of us, miss.”

“Have you ever been with any woman save her?”

“Indeed. She hosts small gatherings from time to time. When she hasn’t a… student, then Temperance and I entertain her guests.”

“Entertain?” I asked, afraid to know. Sandra giggled. She parted her lips and wiggled her tongue quickly, then glanced down between her legs.

“Come, miss, it’s time to bathe.”

Sandra bathed me as usual, but somehow seemed more gentle that day. Most of the time it seemed dutiful, done with such care as one might clean dishes. Today though it was, almost, loving.

For weeks, I followed Josephine’s every instruction. I curtsied, I thanked her for her harshness, I followed behind her, all the while naked. I realized as time went on that my nakedness did not shame me as once it had. When she was away in town, I often strode about, speaking with confidence to the staff. But it was never far from my mind, what I was. “If it pleases you, my mistress.” The words rang in my head. I went to sleep with that being the last thing I said, and woke whispering them.

I had been warned that Josephine held small parties at her home on occasion. I also understood that I, being her student, would provide the entertainment in the form of carnal delights. I was afraid. I did not know what would be expected of me exactly, as Sandra had not been clear.

Soon I would find out, however. On a particular night, I would learn everything. I was made up and given a lovely wig to wear. I was not provided clothing, though, and felt a bit of trepidation at the thought of appearing naked before the women of the tea party.

They began to arrive just after sunset. I was to greet them at the door and escort them to the parlor. No one seemed to notice my nakedness. Or at least, much to my relief, they did not speak of it.

When everyone was accounted for, I left the entry hall and joined the others in the parlor, kneeling at Josephine’s feet. She treated us all to absinthe that night and we were quite dazed when we were called for dinner.

Josephine’s students did receive one honor amid their shames. At dinner parties they sat at her right hand. Thus, naked and silent, I took my place.

We ate with occasional conversation. Or, should I say instead, we ate, and they conversed. I was to remain strictly silent, lest I offend one of her guests. It was a fine meal, and when it was done we were served another helping of absinthe. I was feeling dizzy and quite warm. There was sweat on my forehead when we returned to Josephine’s parlor.

They traded tales of their travels and lives. It was then I learned that not only had Constance been married, but Mary had as well. The difference was that Mary had left her husband in London shortly after meeting Constance. They had never divorced but she had not seen him in eight years.

The other girls proved to be equally as colorful. I could hardly help myself enjoying the tales when my place in the house was made clear to me again.

Ruth stood up and glanced at Josephine. My mistress tapped my shoulder and leaned close. “Find Sandra and do as Ruth bids you,” she ordered. I nodded my head, of course, and spoke my motto.

We left the parlor and went straight to the kitchen where Sandra was helping with the night’s dishes. “Sandra,” I called. She looked up at me, then over my shoulder at Ruth. She quickly bowed her head and followed us up to one of the house’s many guest rooms.

Sandra knelt and motioned for me to do the same. “How may we please you, m’lady?” she asked.

“Oh, dear, how indeed,” came the reply. “I do so love to see a lady lower herself to make love to the help.”

I supposed that I must be the lady. This was not so terrible, I thought to myself. Sandra was a sweet girl, and I had made love in front of others more than once. The maid and I began to kiss and caress one another. I had no clothing to remove, but it was almost instinctive for me to begin removing Sandra’s dress.

“Call her your slut,” Ruth whispered. I was not sure whom she had addressed until I glanced at her and found she was looking at me.

“It’s fine, miss. I shan’t be hurt,” Sandra whispered in my ear.

“You’re my slut, aren’t you,” I said, trying to sound alluring. Sandra nodded her head in silence. “Say it. Say you’re my slut.”

“Indeed, miss, I shall always be your slut.”

During that moment I felt a kind of power. It was most unusual. I found that I could understand the appeal of having a sexual slave. A girl who would do your bidding no matter what you asked. One who was totally subservient to you. I understood that appeal, though did not find it especially appealing myself.

I lay with Sandra on the bed, I on my back, she on top of me, each with her face buried in the crotch of the other. I thought that this might be all that Ruth would want, when I felt her climbing onto the bed. I looked to find her undressing. In a moment she had taken Sandra’s place between my legs.

“And sometimes, I must admit,” she began, “I enjoy being the lady degraded.” She provided expert service to my sex, and I could tell this was something that she was dearly enjoying.

As I lay there enjoying Ruth’s attentions, Sandra began to buck her hips more deliberately. She was kneeling over me and I found I could not use my fingers easily. I lapped at her opening and drove my tongue deep inside. She sighed softly, then fell forward shuddering and trembling.

When she lay down on the bed, I smiled to myself. I liked her, and I was glad I had gotten the chance to gratify her. It was not long before, with the taste of Sandra’s sex still on my lips, I began to feel an orgasm building within me. I rocked my hips and raised my knees. Ruth drove her fingers deep inside my body and I pushed hard against her hand.

As I cried out with ecstasy, Ruth reached even more deeply into me and sucked hard on my clitoris. Waves of pleasure washed over me and I climaxed a second time almost immediately.

I pulled myself up and sat smiling down at Ruth. She lay on the bed on her back looking up at me and smiling back. I looked over to see Sandra watching us intently.

“Sandra dear,” I began. Her attention focused on me. “Be a dear and serve her, do you mind?” Sandra nodded happily and began making her way down Ruth’s body, kissing and licking her.

When she had reached the woman’s sex and began to provide her the tender attention I had enjoyed, I moved across the bed and began kissing Ruth’s mouth. Our tongues seemed to struggle together. When we parted, I moved down her throat, gently kissing her, until I reached her breasts and covered a nipple with my mouth, rolling the other between my fingers.

The woman grunted and moaned. She thrashed her body and I felt myself stimulated by her response to our efforts. I turned my attention to her other nipple and began moving my hand down her body to stroke her belly.

Ruth arched her back, thrusting her sex toward Sandra. I covered her mouth with my own as she climaxed under the maid’s attentions. When I broke our kiss, she opened her eyes and smiled up at me. She then reached down between her legs and coaxed Sandra to slide up and lie with her.

We remained there for a time before Josephine found us all in the guest room. “Come along, Ruth dear, you can’t stay with them all night,” she said. Ruth obliged, calling on Sandra to help her get dressed.

The maid returned to her duties and I mine. I was called on again that night, by Helen, but she made the entire experience feel as if I were doing a tedious chore, and I must say I was all too glad when it was over and she left me alone on the bed without a word.

I had been in Josephine’s home exactly two months. I awoke to Sandra opening the curtains. I rolled on my back and smiled as I stretched. Sandra soon came to my bedside and waited quietly for me to get up. By now she had already drawn my bath.

I got up and crossed the room to where my tub sat. I lowered myself into the warm water closing my eyes and waiting for Sandra to begin washing me. I enjoyed her soft touch as she cleaned me. After some time she reached between my legs with a cloth to wash my sex, and I opened my eyes. She stared at me as she moved her hand slowly between my legs.

We were both caught up in the moment but that was all it could be, a moment. “Forgive me, miss,” she said pulling her hand away. “We’d both get the glove if the mistress knew.” I understood. When ordered to do so I could make love to anyone at all, but only when under Josephine’s orders.

Disappointed and feeling that we would never be able to simply enjoy making love, I climbed from the tub and dried myself. I walked with Sandra to the dining hall and waited patiently for Josephine to join me.

“Do you know how long you’ve been with me?” she asked. I was not sure if I were meant to answer. Eventually she gestured with her hand permitting me to speak.

“Two months today is it not, mistress?”

“Indeed. Your initiation time has ended and now the real training shall begin.” She finished her meal, then lit a cigar before speaking again. “We have so short a time together, girl, I simply cannot take more of it to prepare you.”

Prepare me? I thought. I wondered what terrible things I would endure now if my past two months had been but preparation. What would she ask of me now? I felt fear. I felt as if perhaps I had made a grave error in judgement by agreeing to come into her home.

“Tonight I shall grant you the freedom to do anything you would like to do,” she laughed. “I’ve seen the way you look upon Sandra. Well, tonight shall be your only chance…”

“If it pleases you, my mistress,” I said. I did not need to consider any other possibilities.

“It does, girl.” She drew on her cigar.

I was quite excited by the prospect of having Sandra to myself that night. I could only hope that she would want it. This was not the same as the party, where we were performing our duties. That night I should only make love to her if she so desired.

The day wore on slowly and I found myself touring the grounds with Josephine. We passed the kennels and I noticed that one of the bitches had born her pups. I was happy for Josephine as I knew she had paid a handsome sum for the stud services of the father. It added new blood to the line she was developing, though, and that was critical.

We finished our tour with the stables. I loved the steeds. I had never had any interest when I was with Catherine, but since coming here I had begun to enjoy feeding them hay from my hand and sugar cubes as well.

“Come along, girl,” Josephine ordered. I brushed my hands together and turned, waiting until she took five steps before I followed. I had to be careful because she had not granted me freedom until the evening, and even then I was not sure exactly what she considered free. What was worse, I daren’t ask, as she had yet to grant me permission to speak.

We entered the house and I took my place at her feet in the parlor as she read to me. When she had finished the chapter she was reading, she moved to her harp and began strumming it.

I watched her, wondering about her. Catherine had been neath her wing a time and Madeline learned from Catherine. They both chose to dress as men, but Josephine did no such thing and did not dress me at all. I wondered to myself if I would wish to dress as a man when I was done with my time here. I hoped not, as I did so love being a proper lady.

I had also come to understand why both Catherine and Madeline insisted on bathing very nearly every day. It seemed to me that this was learned from Josephine. I did not mind, though. A warm bath every day felt wonderful and seemed to soothe me.

“Have you something to say, girl?” Josephine asked, pausing from the harp. She’d apparently noticed that I seemed to be contemplating something.

“If it pleases you, my mistress.”

“It does, girl.”

“May I wear a dress tonight?” My heart was pounding in my chest. I was afraid she would deny me.

“Of course, girl, all the more enjoyable to take you out of.” I bowed my head and remained in my place until dinner was called.

While I ate, I found myself becoming quite excited at the thought of coming to Sandra properly dressed. I could only hope that she would fancy it and wish to come to my bed.

When we finished, Josephine took me up to my room and rang the servants’ bell. Sandra came right away, but was sent to get Temperance instead. Tonight Sandra would not be a servant. Her only duty was to herself.

I was brought my finest dress, the lovely red one made of velvet, the one in which I had first appeared before Josephine. With Temperance’s help I donned it, and then they departed the room, leaving me alone. I was left to approach Sandra by myself. Josephine would not come with me, as this was not to be a mandate of hers.

Sandra had been dismissed early from her duties and I knew I would find her in her room in the servant’s quarters. I went to her door and tapped it gently with my gloved hand. A moment passed and she answered, surprised to see me. I think it had not occurred to her why she had been given the night off.

“You look lovely, miss,” she said, smiling at me.

“Thank you, Sandra, but tonight you must call me Elizabeth.”

“As you wish, miss.” She curtsied quickly, but I shook my head.

“No, you must see me as the same as you tonight.”

She looked at me a moment, curious.

“Will you come to the parlor with me, m’lady?” I asked, offering my arm to her.

She stood a time staring at me before she took my arm and allowed me to accompany her to the parlor. When we arrived, we found Josephine playing her harp. I saw Sandra to a sofa, then went to my mistress. She looked up at me and nodded my permission to speak.

“If it pleases you, my mistress,” I said.

“It does.”

“Might I beg a taste of your absinthe for myself and my companion?”

Josephine smiled, almost laughing, and gestured toward the mantle upon which the bottle sat. She stood from the stool before the instrument, looking first to me and then Sandra.

“And I,” she said happily, “I bid you both good night.”

My lovely companion’s eyes widened slightly, and I could see that she was quite confused by all that was happening.

I began to blow out the candles until the room was lit by only a few. I came to Sandra on the sofa and knelt before her, taking her hand. I pressed my lips to her fingers and kissed, keeping my eyes on her. She giggled, blushed, and shied from my gaze. “Miss, what are you doing?” she asked.

“I fear I am doing the best job of courtship I might in the short time we have,” I told her.

“Courtship, miss?”

“I beg you, m’lady, call me Elizabeth tonight.”

She nodded her head briefly.

“Have none of her other students ever fancied you, dear?” I asked.

“No, I should say not,” she replied. “And she often uses me in her games with them. So I beg you, do not take a shine to me either, for I fear that I shall be made to do terrible things to you.”

“If it is you, m’lady, I think it shall not be so terrible,” I smiled.

I did not want to think about what was in my future. I wanted only to focus on this night and my short time of freedom. I stood and began to lay pillows upon the floor. I took the absinthe, the spoon, the sugar, and the glasses, and set them close by then went to Sandra.

“Come dear, sit with me a time.” I took her hand and led her to the pillows where we sat.

We talked quietly, as I attempted to get her to call me Elizabeth, but she could not. In time we drank the absinthe and, giddy with it, began to kiss as we lay in the pillows.

This is what I wanted, but I had to know if it was her desire as well. “Sandra, look at me,” I told her, holding her chin and tilting her head toward me. “You mustn’t think this is your duty, dear. If you do not desire me, you must tell me so.”

She looked long into my eyes. I feared she was building the courage to tell me she did not want this when she smiled. “I do desire you, miss,” she finally said. “You are ever so lovely and kind.”

I smiled as I blushed. I was dizzy from the drink as I began kissing her again. But I did not want to make love here. I wanted her to join me in my bed. If she did, then no matter what happened, every time I lay in it I would have her memory to comfort me.

I replaced the absinthe and its paraphernalia, then helped Sandra to her feet. I offered my arm and after blowing out all but one of the candles, which I took with us for light, I led her to my room.

I set the candle upon the night table next to my bed and turned to her. She looked so beautiful in the flickering light my heart nearly skipped a beat. “Sandra, I want you so,” I said as I pressed my lips to hers. Our tongues met and I pulled her close.

I began to help her off with her dress, then slid her onto my bed, keeping my lips pressed to hers. “Do you truly want me, miss?” she asked, pulling away.

“Like nothing I’ve ever known,” I told her. “You make me quiver with excitement.”

“As do you for me.”

She started to undo my dress and I shed it as quickly as I could. I nearly laughed as Josephine’s words repeated in my head: ‘All the more enjoyable to take you out of.’

I hardly felt a thing being naked before her, but I could tell that she was shy even in the candlelight. “So lovely,” I whispered. I crawled over her, licking her flesh as I did. She trembled beneath me, encouraging me.

Our lips and tongues met again. I caressed her breasts and rolled her nipples between my fingers. Her lips quavered and her breath grew short. I felt her soft hands running along my sides while we kissed deeply.

I slid down and encompassed a nipple with my mouth, suckling it, biting it playfully and lapping at it. She ran her fingers through my hair and that was almost more exciting to me than her nails dragging along my back.

I took my time, kissing and licking down her body until I came to her mons. I ran my fingers through her soft hair then teased her sex. “I beg you, miss,” she whispered. “I beg you, no.”

I bit at her thighs and dragged my tongue around her folds. As she grew more stimulated she would become wetter and that was what I wanted.

At long last, I leaned forward and pushed my tongue deep into her. She drew a long deep breath and pushed herself toward me. I drew my tongue up and swirled it around her clitoris, rewarded by her moans and her juices.

I lapped at her as if I needed her sex to sustain me, and at that moment perhaps I did. I pushed my fingers deep within her, sliding them in and out slowly at first, but growing in speed and depth as she rocked her hips more furiously.

She hooked her knees over my shoulders, and I remember thinking to myself how wonderful it felt. She urged me forward, rocking her hips faster now. I knew her orgasm to be building as she moaned and gasped.

Sandra clutched at the bed sheets and pushed her sex toward me. She was digging her heels into my back and I was loving the sweet pain of it.

Her legs fell from my back, and I rose up smiling down on her. I kissed her body and climbed over her until I could kiss her lips.

“Oh, miss, you’re so wonderful,” she said breathlessly. I kissed her again. She shifted on the bed, sliding her leg between mine, and one of mine between hers in turn. She lifted her thigh until she could press it against my sex and began rocking on the bed in steady rhythm.

I moved with her, then realized that she had pressed her own sex into my leg. I found myself even more excited knowing we were both sharing in the same sensations.

We kissed and I held and squeezed her breasts as she teased my nipples with her fingers. I could feel her wetness on my leg. The knowledge of it inspired me to move faster and press harder against her thigh.

We rocked and kissed, our tongues tangling together until at last I began to feel that first tingle that told me a climax was not far off. I bent my head down, laying my forehead against her chest and pushing harder against her leg. She began to grind on my thigh with more force.

Knowing that she to grew close pushed me over the edge, and within only a moment I trembled and shuddered with my orgasm.

I had hardly begun when Sandra threw back her head and thrust her nethers hard against my leg. We moved together in time with one another, kissing as we climaxed.

In time it subsided, and I lay next to her, catching my breath. “Won’t you stay the night here with me?” I asked her.

“I shouldn’t, miss.”

“But you must. How could I bear to wake up without you?”

“Then I shall,” she finally agreed.

I wrapped my arms around her. She rolled on her side pressing her back against me and I lay kissing her neck for a moment before I nuzzled against her and closed my eyes.

In the morning Sandra was the first to rise as she always was. She opened my curtains, then bid me wait for her to return. She still had to go and wake the mistress.

When Sandra returned she did so with hot water and poured it in the tub. She left and returned with more until the tub was full and at the perfect temperature. She took my hand and led me to the bath, where I sat quietly while she washed me.

“Miss?” she said, gaining my attention. “You must know that no matter what I am made to do, I am sorry, I do not mean it.”

I smiled at her.

“I beg you, please forgive me the shames I shall visit upon you.” She looked very sad and this inspired fear in me.

Forgiveness… it’s a strange thing, for in the church and out in the world it is assumed that a transgression has occurred and that the transgressor begs pardon for the act. But that isn’t what it is, not as the nuns had taught me. As I understand the Catholics now, however, I see that what the nuns spoke of was against the very doctrine of their church. Forgiveness, I was taught, is a pardon given in advance by one, out of love, for a crime yet to be committed and without knowing the injury that may be inflicted upon one’s self. Forgiveness is a determination and a promise to bear no ill will even after the hypothetical transgression is made and the pain of it visited upon you. This is why the word is forgiven and not something else. It is pardon given in advance. One simply cannot forgive what already has passed. One can only accept an apology after the deed is done. Forgiveness is an oath.

And so it was with this in mind that I gave just such an oath to Sandra.

“I forgive you,” I said. Hearing this, though, did not seem to relieve her distress at all.

Continue on to Chapter 8