She crossed the church to the confessional booth that occupied a dark corner of the structure, opened the door, and stepped into the close confines of...the upright box. ?Forgive me, Father,? she implored, ?for I have sinned.??What is the nature of your sin, my daughter?? the priest asked.Since becoming conscious of her wrongdoing, Henrietta had sought a way to put her sin into words. She had not been successful. The words that came to mind did not express the sense of wrong, the burden of. I feel the warmth spread across my panties, slowly at first. The piss trickles down my legs slowly, making my skirt slightly darker where it's tucked in. I turn around and face the mirror, watching the pee's path down my legs to tarnish the previously immaculate white socks. Once I've started, it's impossible to start. The flow gets heavier, and I watch the yellow liquid stream from my pussy, making a huge wet patch on the front of my skirt and utterly soiling those damned knee-highs. I pause. More

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