Oftentimes, strange and unconventional desires lurk beneath the veneer of normalcy many individuals project. Given the right set of circumstances, these desires cease to be repressed-and are eventually acted out.
Certain individuals attempt to retaliate against the increasing necessity to comply with society's demands by embracing unorthodox modes of behavior. Subcultures exist in our society, catering to a wide range of tastes. If these cultural avenues of expression did not exist, the pressure to conform would become too much for some people to bear-and the consequences would be devastating.
Sister Angelique-the heroine of CRUCIFIED, CHAINED NUN becomes an unwilling victim of a subculture. Caught up in a savage world she never dreamed existed, Sister Angelique struggles to free herself-until she comes to understand the ultimate value of her new experience.
-The Publisher
CHAPTER ONE
Silver moonlight cast an eerie glow on the stonewalled convent grounds. In the center courtyard stood a rugged cross ten feet tall. Made of heavy rough-hewn timbers, it cast a long shadow toward an arch and the iron-banded oak plank door leading to the novitiate, a block of cold and gloomy cells for young nuns in training.
A massive bolt clanked back and sturdy wrought-iron hinges squealed as the door swung open. Those sounds echoed sharply in the night. Six older nuns in long black mantled habits marched slowly into the yard, all chanting somber Latin in low voices. They surrounded a struggling girl who sobbed in fearful desperation.
Two grim-looking nuns led the solemn procession with flaming torches held high. The cross, that revered symbol of suffering, glowed red in the wavering glare.
Behind them walked Sister Bernice, an imposing woman taller and stronger than most men. She was the convent's stern Sister of Discipline and carried a black nine-tongued lash as a sign of her fearsome authority.
Behind her, two nuns with tightly drawn faces gripped the arms of the weeping girl in a gray hooded robe that marked her as a novice. That was Sister Angelique-young, blonde and beautiful beneath her drab nun's habit.
She struggled between the dour pair mantled in black and cried, "No, please! You can't crucify me for just reading a book!"
They both laughed maliciously and dragged her to the base of the cross.
Mother Superior watched the torch-lit spectacle from a barred window on the second floor. Recognizing the start of an ancient punishment ritual, she turned away and closed the wooden shutters to her private chamber.
She returned to her narrow bed and went on reading the forbidden book Sister Angelique had been caught with-a tender, almost innocent romantic novel the girl had taken on impulse from a supermarket book rack. The first hundred pages described nothing more daring than a gentle kiss and tender caress, but even that was considered shockingly sinful within the convent's bleak walls.
Cloistered nuns of that strict order were allowed to read only the Bible and religious books, nothing that even mentioned forbidden pleasures in the outside world. That's why Mother Superior found the book so exciting, and why she'd decided to reward Sister Bernice for bringing it to her.
The brawny nun in the courtyard grinned with a look of fiendish delight when she heard the shutters close. That meant Mother Superior had decided not to watch-that she would be allowed to use her favorite torments, cruel methods their Holy Order would never approve.
"Strip her naked!" she ordered the clutch of nuns who held the cowering novice in the shadow of the cross.
They all shrieked excitedly and flew at her like vicious black-winged birds of prey. Sharp fingers hooked like talons tore at her gray robe.
Angelique fell screaming, shocked by the ferocity of their attack. All but the towering Sister Bernice swooped down on her, ripping and tearing at her robe until she writhed naked, sobbing hysterically at their feet.
Long waves of golden hair fanned wide around a pretty young face blushed red with burning shame. Her creamy smooth skin had been scratched in a dozen places by nails sharpened into claws.
Having her clothes torn off so viciously shocked Angelique even more than it would most modest young women. She had lived in the convent since early childhood and been taught that nuns of their strict order should never be seen nude-not even by the eyes of God.
They had to change underwear without removing their habits, and change habits without taking off the long smock underneath. They had to wear a long, coarsely woven robe even when bathing. It kept them from touching forbidden places.
Sister Bernice glared down at the naked girl, delightedly licking her tautly curled lips. "You've been defrocked for breaking your sacred vow of total innocence," she said in a thunderous tone. "I caught you reading of sinful pleasures and experimenting with your own flesh!"
Angelique moaned and winced back tears of regret. Reading a love scene in the book had tempted her to touch her tits as the man did to a girl in the story.
Lying naked on the cold stone pavement of the courtyard, she felt profoundly sorry she'd taken that book off the rack when sent to the store to buy supplies. But Angelique had been unable to resist. The smiling, misty blue-eyed girl's face on the cover was like a mirror image of hers, and Angelique longed to know more about life outside the convent.
She did not listen to a radio, play a record or watch TV. Angelique had never read a newspaper or a magazine. Now she would have to suffer for her sinful curiosity about such forbidden things.
Sister Bernice grinned smugly and said, "Bind her to the cross! Tie her facing the cross. She is not to look down on the devoted sisters of our Holy Order."
Angelique shuddered and heaved a bleak moan. Two nuns with strong hands grabbed her arms and climbed the ladders which leaned against the cross, lifting her between them.
Another nun with long fingers grabbed around her slender waist to help lift. Her grasping hands strayed forward to feel the golden-haired dome of soft flesh between the girl's legs. Angelique cried in anguish.
None of the others could see what she was doing. The nun probed the soft pink-lipped slit of Angelique's cunt.
A sleek dampness the girl didn't understand began to flow. Then the nun found a tiny button of tender flesh sheltered between the puffed lips of Angelique's cunt. She whirled that around and made the girl squirm.
"Remember where that little nub is," the nun whispered. "It's the only thing that will bring you relief when Sister Bernice lays on the lash."
They wrenched her arms wide and bound them to the cross with tightly cinched rawhide thongs. Those chafed her soft white skin and drew traces of blood in several places. The rough beam that she faced pricked her tender tits with sharp splinters. Angelique suffered already and her whipping had not even begun.
Nuns standing below crossed her ankles and bound them tightly to the main beam of the cross. The biting cinch of rawhide sent shocks of pain up her shapely legs. She squirmed in torment and more sharp splinters pricked her skin.
"You have sinned and shamed the good sisters of this Holy Order," Bernice declared in a booming deep voice.
"Yes, I have sinned. God forgive me!"
"Louder!" the Sister of Discipline demanded.
Angelique almost screamed, "Dear God, please forgive me!"
"You cannot beg His mercy until you repent."
"I will repent," Angelique promised. "Hail Mary, Mother of God-"
Bernice laughed and lashed the girl across her back. Nine sinewy tongues of leather with knotted tips burned flesh once flawless as fine porcelain. Blazing welts appeared where the lash had struck and pain like a jagged lightning bolt jarred every nerve.
Angelique's scream echoed loud off the convent's bleak walls of stone. Shocked by the stabbing heat of pain, her lush body writhed in torment until the thongs creaked.
Sister Bernice drew back her beefy arm again. The lash came forward in a blur. Tanned leather stung tender flesh with a cracking sound like a pistol shot. It rang off the walls entwined with Angelique's second loud scream.
The pain numbed her senses, but Angelique's ripe young body twitched and squirmed. In her anguished writhing, her juicy clit bud found a nub of wood protruding two inches from the main beam of the cross. Unlike the rest of the rough timber, that small projection had been worn smooth as glass. Angelique pressed against it and felt an eerie tingle between her bound legs. She arched to press harder and the strange pleasure increased. The mysterious surging in her loins dulled pain, but only until the lash struck again.
Angelique was too weak to scream, but she felt the fiery spread of pain. She babbled, tossing her head and swirling her long golden hair. Her lush body arched and twisted, searching again for that lump of slick wood that brought wondrous relief.
She ground her drooling cunt slit against it and felt a rushing surge of uncanny delight. Angelique pumped her hips instinctively, spreading her soft thighs as wide as she could. Her rhythmic fuck motions and lewd grunting noises amused the pious-looking nuns circled below.
Bernice shouted, "Look at her now! She fouls the beloved symbol of our Savior with sinful lust! Each of you cut a switch!"
They all chuckled and smirked, rushing to a thicket of brush with long thorny limbs grown in the courtyard just for this purpose. Each woman cut a willowy branch and carefully stripped it of leaves. The dozens of small, needle-sharp thorns were left with nothing to pad their sting.
The nuns rushed back to the base of the cross with widening lewd grins of anticipation. Angelique could see them coming, then heard them circling behind her with their long switches all raised.
Her body trembled, strained by the effort of trying not to move. Her back was ablaze with deep-sinking pain. She ached for relief and still felt that strange, restless stirring in her loins.
She longed to twist and grind herself on the wooden nub again, but she didn't dare move. That would enrage the stern Sister of Discipline and surely prolong her punishment. Angelique bit her lips and winced to hold back her tears.
"Give her five lashes for lascivious sin," Bernice said, "and five more for each time her body moves that way again."
Angelique shuddered, fearful that she could not stand the pain. The girl knew nothing about sex or the inner workings of her own body, but she'd come almost to a climax while thrusting and twisting her clit on the glossy nub.
To come so near without the satisfaction of orgasm left her pussy sheath writhing. Simmering honey drooled from its soft lips, scenting the air with the tang of sweet virgin cunt.
That pungent smell incensed the nuns standing below. They'd all enjoyed lesbian sex at one time or another, but never with a girl as sweet and soft as Angelique. They all ached with yearning for her.
"Whip her!" Sister Bernice snarled as her arm arched back. The nine slender thongs and five thorny branches all struck at once.
Angelique shrilled an ear-splitting scream but somehow kept her body rigid. They all struck again, but not in perfect unison this time. Stinging blows fell one after another and her tortured wail became an unbroken cry. Still she remained rigid, but the punishing blows kept raining down until pain became unbearable.
Her long sharp wail deepened to a desperate moan. Angelique's flaring hips thrust forward. She groped and found the stimulating lump of slick wood. Then she blurred into motion like a jackhammer to feel the thrilling surge of relief.
The nuns stopped whipping her and watched her desperate gyrations with intense delight. Their mouths watered and their clits swelled. Innocent little Angelique had been whipped into a frenzy. She was fucking herself to an orgasm inspired by pain.
"Cut her down!" Bernice said sternly.
Angelique cried, "No, not yet!"
She didn't understand the exquisite tension in her loins or the powerful contractions of sleek muscle that grew stronger as she twisted and squirmed, but the girl sensed that something even more wonderful was about to happen. She had to know what it was.
But Sister Bernice would not allow the deliciously tempting young blonde to climax on the cross. The burly disciplinarian's own clit was throbbing.
The nun who'd first teased Angelique's clit severed the thong that bound her ankles to the cross. Two others climbed ladders and cut the rawhide binding her wrists. Angelique screamed and fell with a swirl of trailing golden hair.
The paving stones were cold, slick and damp with dew. It soothed the pain of her blazing welts on her back. She writhed joyously to spread the chill. At the same time, she dropped her hands and fingered her clit, whirling it madly.
"Look at the lewd little bitch," Bernice said, her deep voice tense with excitement, her cold gray eyes bright with desire. "Pull her hands away and pin her wrists."
Two nuns with hands like steel vises grabbed Angelique's arms and spread them wide, pinning them beneath their knees.
"No," the girl cried. "Don't make me stop!"
Sister Bernice raised her habit above her waist and dropped on the anxious young blonde. Her hot breath made a rasping sound as she positioned herself and pumped her hips.
Bernice's long rigid clit quickly found Angelique's tender nub. It was sheltered within folds of soft flesh damp with sultry warmth, but the larger organ bored in.
Angelique gave a startled cry. First it was a thrill of disgust, then a deep moan of thankful delight. When their clits touched, it was like two sparking wires.
The young novice groaned, almost crushed by the driving weight of Sister Bernice. She had no idea why the big nun had dropped on her, or why two others crouched down to pin her legs wide apart. But she welcomed the pleasure.
Sister Bernice fucked just like a man, arching as high as she could without breaking contact, then driving down to sink her hard clit as deep as she could.
Thudding blows from hot flesh fell on that tender button of nerve-ends between
Angelique's legs, then Bernice's big clit skidded off and sank into the girl's buttery cunt.
Angelique felt pressure on something inside. The bullish nun's clit strained the stubborn web of flesh that marked her as a virgin. Bernice grunted and increased the power of her rapid thrusts.
She had deflowered more than one innocent young girl with a bulbous clit that swelled hard as a cock. But Angelique's virgin seal was tough as leather and set so deep she could hardly reach it.
Angelique knew about the fleshy web of innocence she'd been taught to treasure. She was afraid it might break and brand her as unworthy to say her final vows. But her desire for pleasures yet unknown proved stronger than fear.
Muscles in her groin squeezed to increase the heated delight of friction between them. Bernice gave a satisfied grunt and kept thrusting brutally hard, determined to rupture the girl's cherry and make her bleed.
Angelique was not thinking about that or her final vows now, only the intense contractions that sent warmth radiating out to her fingers and toes. She was hardly aware that four leering nuns held her pinned to the ground.
She arched and twisted, bucking her hips to meet Sister Bernice's demanding thrusts. As pain had become almost unbearable when she was being whipped on the cross, the wild spasms of pleasure were almost more than she could stand now.
Bernice was fucking with all of her female might, muttering foul curses because God hadn't given her a cock to do the job right.
Angelique gasped anxious cries. The mysterious contractions had grown stronger than before. She teetered on the brink of orgasm. All her muscles strained, then she climaxed with an explosive roar.
Sister Bernice came with her. The woman's big clit pulsed and surged. It made her wish she had balls, but lewd rapture very soon overcame her regrets. She fucked as a man, then she collapsed on top of the quivering novice.
* * *
Even with heavy shutters tightly closed, Mother Superior had sensed a change in the girl's anguished cries when Angelique first discovered the forbidden thrill of clit stimulation.
The Reverend Mother knew all the sounds that came with that delightful sensation. In the years she'd run the convent, over a hundred young novices had been whipped and flogged on that old rugged cross.
Their tortured writhing and desperate need for relief had polished the handy nub of wood at cunt level until it sheened like crystal. The Reverend Mother had herself been bound to the cross and brutally whipped by a former Sister of Discipline when she was a young novice.
Twenty years had passed, but the woman still remembered what a thrill it was to experience orgasm in a body already hot with burning pain. When she heard Angelique's explosive scream, the Reverend Mother rasped sighs of envy.
Most nights, Sister Bernice was with her. She had made the brutish big nun her Sister of Discipline for that reason. Mother Superior loved to confess some minor sin and be secretly flogged in her private chamber.
The whipping always made Bernice's huge clit hard enough to fuck almost like a man. Mother Superior liked nothing better than a brutal clit-fucking when her back was ablaze with burning welts.
Her mind was twisted now in tortured jealousy, knowing that her demanding disciplinarian and secret lesbian lover was happily fucking the much younger and far more beautiful Sister Angelique.
Mother Superior breathed a jealous moan and pulled a burning candle from its holder beside her bed. It was two inches thick and sixteen inches long. Entranced by the size of it, she gripped the long shaft in both hands and wormed the rounded butt end into the taut slit of her pussy.
"This is much better than you, Bernice," she said spitefully.
Angelique was shrilling lewd cries of delight in the courtyard below. Bernice was strong enough to make a girl's climax last several minutes. Mother Superior groaned and drove the candle in as deep as she could without burning her hands on the lighted end.
Her sleek cunt was tense and writhing in a jealous rage. She climaxed almost at once. Undulating waves of motion that would have delighted a man were wasted on the unfeeling shaft of a tallow candle instead.
Mother Superior's cunt was hot enough to soften the candle. When she pumped it in and out of her pussy fast enough to extinguish the flame, outer layers of tallow began to melt and feel like cum in her anxious depths.
Hot drippings splashed into her silvering thatch of cunt hair to heighten the illusion of real sex. Mother Superior pumped the smoking candle faster with both hands. The heat of friction was so intense, the candle withered and went limp.
Mother Superior's slithering cunt climaxed all over the rubbery waxy shaft, desperately wishing the thing was alive. Though still a virgin in the strictest sense of the word, the nun who ruled the convent had fucked candles hundreds of times before.
She knew exactly how to bring herself to orgasm, and she did so several times a night. It was her way of escaping the dreary monotony of a nun's dull life.
The Reverend Mother assumed all her lusty cravings were a secret. But young nuns assigned to clean her private quarters delighted in telling others that Mother Superior's candles always wore out at the wrong end first.
Fucking candles and carrots was a common practice within the convent's gray walls. In a world without men, what else could a healthy young woman do?
But lifeless things never thrilled Mother Superior like the hard driving strength of Sister Bernice. Her body ached to feel the mannish woman's powerful thrusts and the heated pulse of something like a real man's cock.
She discarded the candle and stalked to the window. She opened the shutters quietly despite the heat of her jealous rage. Bernice hadn't finished with Angelique. The burly bitch was fucking her again, making the babbling girl beg for more.
Even from a distance, Mother Superior could see what a tempting treasure Angelique was. Her long, silky golden hair shimmered in the moonlight.
The Reverend Mother's hair was short and soft gray like smoke. Angelique's young body was ripe and lusciously curved. Hers was more slender, stately and serene.
Some men would have preferred the regal beauty of the older woman, especially those who noticed the smoldering heat in her dark eyes. But the Reverend Mother knew little about men. She could only have Sister Bernice-and to do that she would have to get rid of Sister Angelique.
A few strokes of her pen would be enough to banish any novice from the convent and the church forever. But Mother Superior resisted the impulse to do that. It would free the luscious beauty to lead a normal life and experience earthly pleasures beyond her wild dreams.
She would not reward her rival with release from her strict vows. Better she be made to suffer for so attracting the lewd devotion of Sister Bernice.
Angelique was climaxing again, wailing like a banshee. The nuns pinning her ankles had let go. Angelique kicked her legs up and scissored them around the waist of Sister Bernice to gain leverage and feel more thrilling pleasure.
"I'm going to fuck you every night after this," Bernice said in a breathy growl.
Angelique couldn't answer, she was cumming hard for the third or fourth time. Her pussy was a wringing tight sleeve of sultry dampness and her mind was a blur.
Mother Superior glared jealously. Her power within the church was limited by the convent's gray walls. Outside, it was still a man's world. There was no such thing as equal rights or affirmative action in the eyes of the church. The lowliest parish priest had more real authority.
Then she remembered Father Brannigan, perhaps the lowliest priest of them all. He was a young rebel assigned, or perhaps banished, to a waterfront mission struggling to survive in an abandoned building infested with vicious harbor rats.
He had made an official request through proper channels for a nun to help manage a congregation of juvenile gang members, drunken sailors and derelicts with no place better to go. She would normally have recommended denial of that request in the strongest possible terms. Father Brannigan's sleazy waterfront mission wasn't a proper place for an innocent nun.
But now Mother Superior's taut lips curled into a grin of wicked delight. All the things wrong with Brannigan's mission made it just the right place to send Sister Angelique. It was the nearest thing to hell on this earth that the Reverend Mother could think of.
CHAPTER TWO
Sister Angelique was clit-fucked repeatedly by the six nuns who'd so piously marched her to the cross to be punished for reading an innocent romantic novel.
By dawn, the softly curved young blonde was too weak to respond, so they dragged her up and tied her to the cross once again. This time her back was to the timbers so that she could not find relief when her pussy started throbbing for pleasure.
They left her hanging until well after noon. By then the sun blazed and her lush body sheened with sweat. Her burning welts began to fester and Angelique's pussy begged for relief.
By three in the afternoon, her long golden hair was drenched with running sweat. Dried blood covering her numerous small wounds had dissolved and dripped down. The salt of her own body fluids made them burn worse than before.
She writhed in silent torment, daring not to speak. Sister Bernice had warned that any sound she uttered would add an hour to the time she must spend on the cross. Angelique tried to think of Christ and the suffering he must have endured for the sake of all mankind, but that didn't help.
All feeling was lost from her fingers and toes. Then from her arms and legs. Her mind was a dizzy blur. The only sense she had left was in her groin. That seethed and pulsed with desire even when her heartbeat began to weaken.
Just before Angelique's stubborn spirit became lost in a sea of pain, some young nuns in black robes came with ladders and gently lowered her from the cross. Mother Superior herself led this group, not Sister Bernice.
She led the stumbling girl to her private quarters and quietly bolted the oak planked door. Hers were the only rooms in the whole convent that could be securely locked from the inside.
"Sister Bernice won't trouble you any longer," the Reverend Mother said with a smile that glowed like sunrise. "She's been banished to her cell until you've completely recovered."
Angelique had mixed feelings about that, despite all she'd been through. Sister Bernice had thrilled as well as pained her. Memories of her grinding climaxes were still stronger than lingering pain.
"We must get you cleaned up and start to heal your wounds," the Reverend Mother said with seemingly deep concern.
Mother Superior had decided to let Bernice languish in her cramped cell while she enjoyed all the sensuous pleasures a tempting young virgin had to offer. She would satisfy herself fully before sending Angelique to Father Brannigan's despicable storefront mission.
"First a nice warm bath," she said to Angelique with a smile and a consoling hug.
Angelique luxuriated stark naked in the steaming tub. The water contained scented bath oils to ease the pain of her wounds and the ache of her stiff joints. She lounged neck-deep in the soothing emollient for half an hour. But only when Mother Superior took off her own habit and prepared to join Angelique in the tub did she realize she was naked.
"But not even God is supposed to see us naked!" Angelique cried, her mind set on being a proper nun again.
The Reverend Mother's lithe body looked regal. She moved with queenly grace getting into the large sunken tub.
"Sweet, innocent Angelique," she said with a pleasant smile. "Haven't you ever thought that some of our Holy Order's strict rules are simply stupid?"
The girl was shocked that Mother Superior would even suggest such a thing.
Mother Superior said, "If God has the power to see through the stone walls and tile roofs of this convent, then he could certainly see through your bathing robe if he wanted to."
"He wouldn't!"
"I think He might. He's a man, after all, and you are a simply stunning young woman."
Angelique blushed. She'd never thought of herself as being beautiful. Vanity was a sin. The Holy Order did not even allow the nuns to have mirrors. She'd only seen her own face reflected in water, or in the polished bottom of a large kitchen kettle.
"Your figure is a delight to behold," the woman said as she edged closer. "Large breasts, so firm and still so soft. A slender waist and flaring hips, beautifully tapered legs. Your looks would drive men wild!"
Angelique's blush deepened. "Men don't think about nuns that way."
"Some do. And if they knew what you looked like without your habit-all this silky long golden hair."
Mother Superior stroked a hand through the long cascade hanging outside, over the edge of the tub. Then she worked her hands around to feel the girl's tits.
"Ungh! Please don't do that!"
Angelique recalled too well being whipped for barely touching herself. Now Mother Superior was fondling her with both hands and whirling her thumbs around her nipples.
"I know it's against the rules. But I think rules must be broken sometimes. We're only human, after all."
Angelique became completely confused. Mother Superior was encouraging her to break the strict rules of their Holy Order. Her mind resisted, but her body was weak from a terrible ordeal on the cross. Warmed by the soothing water and the soft stroking of the older woman's hands, she yearned for pleasure.
"But how can I be a worthy nun if--? "
"You'll be a fine nun," the Reverend Mother assured her. "In fact, you'll get to say your final vows years sooner than most. I'm going to tutor you myself, day and night."
"T-t-tutor me?"
Mother Superior was sliding her hands down, gently exploring the soft valley of flesh between Angelique's legs.
"Yes, dear. You're being prepared for a special assignment outside the convent."
"Outside? So soon? Oooh, I'm not ready!"
That strange but now familiar stirring in her loins had started again.
"You will be, my sweet. Mother Superior will teach you all that you need to know."
A probing finger found the button of Angelique's clit and swirled beneath the water in a tantalizing spiral.
"Yes, but-" The young blonde still had nagging doubts.
"No buts, you must obey higher authority without question."
"Yes, Mother."
"That's better. Now, let's dry off and go to bed. There is much about life that I must teach you."
For years before becoming so enthralled with Sister Bernice's rough treatment, Mother Superior had been a lesbian who enjoyed the aggressive man's role. She loved the sly art of seduction, but never more than now with the pliant and so beautiful Sister Angelique.
Her talented lips, deft tongue and wavering fingers would reach every nerve before this long night was through. Angelique's senses would all become enflamed, and she would be kept hot for a whole week. Then she would send the restless, innocent girl into the urban jungle surrounding Father Brannigan's waterfront mission with strict orders to remain forever pure. A more cruel torture was hard for the woman to imagine.
Angelique would pay for being so radiant and so tempting.
Mother Superior toweled the girl dry and then led her to the bed. Angelique stretched out with a thankful sigh. Mother Superior knelt beside her with hands clasped as though in prayer. Then she began to caress the girl's lush tits.
The trembling novice breathed shallow and fast as her excitement increased. Her conscience kept nagging that this kind of pleasure was sinfully wrong, but her body was too weak to resist.
Mother Superior kissed her budding pink nipples and made them bloom with rushing blood.
"This is the sort of temptation that you must learn to resist," the woman said.
She sucked one luscious tit and tongued the hardened nipple until it throbbed. She softly squeezed the other tit with both hands and whirled that nipple with her thumbs.
Angelique writhed with gasping moans. She was wrestling with her conscience but enjoying the spread of warmth. Mother Superior swayed to the side and kissed the bounding soft plane of Angelique's belly.
Her tongue teased and stroked while her hands kept up the manipulation of her tits. She kissed the rumpled little hollow of Angelique's belly button and wiggled her wet tongue inside.
The young blonde sighed ecstatically and arched her back. Mother Superior slid one hand down and cupped it beneath her ass. She fondled the quivering cheeks one after the other, then she slid her middle finger into the soft cleft.
"Men will want to do all these things to you," she warned. "They are powerfully drawn to ripe young bodies like yours."
Angelique groaned. The idea of a man touching her was detestable.
The finger teasing around the rim of her ass made its taut little round lips squirm. And the joyous, twisting sensation worked its way up in her loins. Her soft pussy sleeve began to clench and surge. It brought damp warmth from the sultry depths. The sweet, tart scent of musk filled the gloomy chamber.
"That is a smell you must never forget," Mother Superior said with a wry little grin. "It is the devil's hot breath!"
"Aaagh," she cringed. More than all earthly pain and suffering, Angelique had been taught to fear the devil's sly temptations.
"There is some of Satan in all of us," Mother Superior said. "He lives here, deep in the hollow of your most forbidden place." She bowed her head and kissed Angelique's simmering cunt.
"Oooh, God!" she cried.
Mother Superior lapped and sucked sweet virgin cunt with her tongue swirling. "The devil has powers you would hardly believe. This might help drive him out."
She pressed her slender middle finger into Angelique's writhing ass and wiggled it deep.
Angelique bucked and twitched, arching to escape the contractions that now engulfed both her pussy and ass. Mother Superior slammed her mouth on her softly padded cunt.
"I will devour him! I will free you from the devil!"
"Oooh, yes! Don't let Satan claim my soul!"
The Reverend Mother sucked cunt like a lewd fiend, madly swirling her tongue on Angelique's clit.
"He's stronger than ever!" the girl cried in fearful despair.
"That is Satan emerging. I will soon make you free of him."
Angelique's climax was starting. The cunt-hungry nun knew it would take only another few strokes of her slithering tongue to send the girl into a shivering fit.
She plunged her finger in and out of her bounding ass. When the girl squealed and writhed into a high arch, she lowered her head and thrust into her cunt with rapid tongue strokes.
Angelique knew the tension of an approaching climax even though she didn't know quite what it was. If it was the devil in her emerging, then she wondered how there could be any of him left. This happened dozens of times while the nuns in the courtyard were astride her.
She let go a long cry as the orgasm neared its peak. Her shrill wail grew steadily louder and higher pitched. Angelique's whole body was frantically twisting and squirming. Fierce spasms in her pussy heaved to wring the last trace of Satan from its depths.
Almost a full minute passed before she found strength to breathe again.
"Is he gone now?" the girl asked weakly.
"Is who gone?"
Thrilled by watching Angelique's orgasm, the Reverend Mother had briefly forgotten the fanciful story about Satan being inside her.
"The devil," Angelique said. "Have you freed me from him?"
"I don't know, dear. Let's see if there's any left."
She climbed up on the bed with the anxious young blonde, but was turned so that she faced her feet. That Angelique didn't understand.
Mother Superior straddled her face and bent down.
"Wh-what are you doing?"
"We're going to do it together. I want to know if there might be some of the devil lurking inside of me. You are to search for him with your tongue."
Mother Superior gazed fondly at Angelique's golden-haired pussy and thought to herself, it's going to be a marvelous week. She'll fear the devil more than ever when she's learned he can never be completely gotten rid of. And then I'll send her into hell on this earth.
* * *
An astronaut leaving a spacecraft to explore the planet Mars could not have felt more tense and strangely excited than Sister Angelique when she stepped off the inter-city bus at Harbor Station a week later.
It was a long ride from the distant convent in the peaceful countryside. She arrived late at night. The teeming squalor of the busy waterfront was like an alien world.
Damp fog was draped like a shroud outside the bus station, so Angelique put on a hooded plastic raincoat to cover her new black habit. She had said her final vows in an impressive ceremony at the convent the day before. She'd become a full-fledged nun years sooner than expected.
She had worn a beautiful long white gown of satin and lace for the ceremony-her symbolic marriage with God. She was even given a golden wedding band to wear, a sign of her strict vow to remain ever-faithful to the Lord above, forsaking all earthly pleasures.
Angelique still had some misgivings. Mother Superior's tutoring had shown the devil was still strong within her. Nothing she did all week drove him out. If anything, that restless evil stirring grew stronger. All that gave her faith was knowing that Mother Superior had it too. Satan tantalized them both dozens of times.
Few would have guessed the sweet-faced innocent girl was a nun. A plain black raincoat completely covered her habit. Angelique had hiked up the long skirt and cinched it with her cord belt so the hem wouldn't get soiled on the damp, dirty street.
Her shapely legs and trim ankles showed. So did a lock of fine golden hair. Pulling up the hood of the raincoat had put the white-trimmed black mantle of her habit slightly askew.
Going out the main door, she almost bumped into a garishly clad, overly made-up old whore. The woman turned and stared after the tender and innocent-looking young blonde.
She said in a coarse gravelly voice, "Honey, if I had your looks, I wouldn't walk these streets alone at night."
Angelique was in a hurry to get to the mission and didn't hear what the woman said. The hooker shrugged and then laughed to herself.
"Hell, if I looked like you, I'd be a fucking millionaire!"
Sister Angelique turned south on Harbor Boulevard as she'd been told to do and vanished into the swirling mist. Father Brannigan's mission was six blocks down the street and she was anxious to meet him.
Mother Superior had said he was an extraordinary young priest. She didn't tell Angelique he was a rebel, banished to the seedy mission for his errant behavior. Nor did she let the girl know that she was being sent to suffer along with him.
The buildings were all dark, many deserted and boarded up. Most women would have been terrified on that murky street, but Angelique was too innocent to know fear.
A huge rat scurried across her path and leaped into a smelly trash can looking for food. The lid fell to the ground with a loud clang that made her heart leap.
At the mouth of the next alley, Angelique saw an even more worrisome sight, a gang of hardened teenagers in matching jackets, four boys and two girls around her age but much more worldly wise.
They watched intently when she hurried by. Angelique saw the backs of their jackets were all decorated with a leering devil's head. Fire spewed from the fang-toothed face of evil and swirled to form the words "SATAN'S SLAVES."
That shocked the young nun. It was blasphemy to display an image of Satan and worse to revere it by pledging allegiance to him as the slogan implied. She quickened her pace even more, but the tallest and strongest of the young males grabbed her suddenly from behind.
"Hey, honey ... what's your hurry?" His arms encircled and yanked her back.
"Stop that! Let go of me!"
His hand reached up and pulled down her hood. The white-trimmed black mantle of her habit was also dislodged, but in the dark they didn't notice that. Her long golden hair streamed down her back.
"My name's Monk," he said, still holding her tight. "What's yours?"
"Sister Angelique," she replied hotly. "I'm a-"
He cut her off with a raucous laugh. "Only black girls call themselves sister when they aren't, and I can see you ain't one of them."
Monk stroked a hand through the long golden hair.
"I want to get to know you better, Angelique. A whole lot better!" Monk snaked his arms around her and squeezed her tits. "Oooh, baby! You're beautiful!"
Angelique cringed violently when he touched her breasts. She knew about the devil lurking inside her and feared that he might emerge again. But she felt only pain from Monk's grasping hands.
He dragged her backwards into the dark alley. "I just gotta see what all you got under that raincoat!" His hot, foul breath filled her ear.
She struggled and squirmed and in her slick plastic raincoat she was hard to hold on to. She twisted and broke from his grasp, but there was no place to go. The other gang members circled around her, pressing her back to the wall.
She grabbed a broken shovel handle from an overflowing trash can and swung it hard to drive them back. Monk dodged the blow and grinned.
"I like it best when a girl puts up a fight," he said with a leering grin.
Angelique hissed and changed her grip on the hardwood shovel handle. She held it like a spear and lunged to ram the rounded end deep into his gut.
Monk was a foot taller and at least a hundred pounds heavier than Angelique. But his breath gushed and he staggered back with a strickened look of pain spreading over his face.
She whirled and swung the stick with both hands again, clubbing the side of his head with a vicious blow. He fell unconscious in a crumpled heap. The boy standing next to him leaped back, but not quick enough. He was felled by the same slashing blow.
Her skillful use of the shovel handle had been learned at the convent. In ancient times the stone-walled sanctuaries of Europe were often raided and the nuns raped, sometimes for days on end. Rules of the Holy Order did not allow the nuns to have weapons, so they learned to defend themselves with common garden tools. Those ancient skills were still taught, and Angelique had learned her lessons well.
The two young males still on their feet both flicked out long, razor-sharp switchblades, glaring at her with eyes full of hate. Few along the waterfront dared to challenge Satan's Slaves.
They spread wide apart, both feinting knife thrusts while maneuvering to attack from two directions at once. Angelique watched them both, her suddenly cold and clear blue eyes darting back and forth. A confident little grin curled her lips. She would prove herself to be a worthy nun yet.
The boy on the left made a lunging underhand thrust, but she whirled out of the way with a dancer's nimble grace and brought the shovel handle cracking down hard across his wrist.
Bones shattered with a sickening crunch. The knife flew away and he stumbled back screaming.
His partner came at her from behind with a grunt of rage, but Angelique continued her spin and whirled to face him. She thrust the shovel handle at him like a sword and stabbed the sharp broken end a good three inches into his thigh.
He howled and dropped the knife to clamp both hands on the ragged, blood-gushing wound. Angelique took off running before either of the two female gang members thought to stop her. The last they saw was her streaming golden hair.
"Jesus Christ!" one girl said in amazement. "She put down four of our top guys! Can you believe that?"
"Not hardly," her friend answered. "And she won't believe what's gonna happen to her either."
* * *
Angelique ran all the way to the mission without looking back. When she arrived at the door she was just starting to breathe hard. Rigorous work at the convent and a life of wholesome food had made her a superb physical specimen. Besides beauty, she had strength and endurance few women could match.
The door of the mission was barred and locked at that late hour. Angelique beat on it frantically with her fists, not knowing how long it would take the less severely injured gang members to catch up with her.
"Father Brannigan! Open the door! It's Sister Angelique!" And then with a nervous glance back down the fog-shrouded street she prayed, "Oh, please, dear God ... make him hurry!"
Her tits still ached from the mauling Monk had given them, but she felt only the pain, not the sinful stirring that usually started when her forbidden parts had been touched.
Father Brannigan heard the noise and stumbled out of bed sleepy-eyed. The urgency of a strained female voice compelled him to mdve without thinking. He hurried to the front door wearing nothing but his undershorts. He rattled open the door with its double locks.
"What is it, my child?" he asked.
Brannigan had been too fast asleep to make much of what she first said. He didn't realize this was Sister Angelique. While he was expecting a nun to arrive soon, a stunning young blonde still in her teens was not what he had envisioned.
"I was attacked on the street," she said.
"Yes, that happens quite often around here. Come in, I'll protect you."
He stepped back to admit her and gave the frightened girl another admiring glance. She looked ravishing with beads of mist agleam in her long golden hair. He closed and locked the door behind her.
"Er, forgive my attire. I wasn't expecting company so late at night."
"It's all right, I'm just thankful to be here safe with you."
Her modest blue eyes carefully avoided his bulging undershorts. Brannigan was a handsome man in his mid-thirties with a strong-featured face and piercing dark eyes. He had the rippled, muscular build of an athlete and a charming smile.
Because her eyes never left his face, Angelique had no idea that just looking at her had given him an outrageous hard-on. Brannigan's big cock pulsed and throbbed, swelling hard despite all his training for the priesthood-or maybe because of it.
Paul Brannigan hadn't become a priest by choice and he hadn't yet adjusted fully to the idea that he was one. Seventeen years before, he'd fucked a very beautiful young blonde like this one at a high school Halloween party. He'd gone dressed as a policeman. She flirted and teased his big cock all night, only to throw up her girlish defenses when he wanted to do more than tease.
Brannigan had used the handcuffs that came with his rented costume to restrain her. She had been a virgin who screamed and cried a lot at first. His cock was eleven inches long and almost three inches thick at the root, more than most girls wanted-especially their first time.
He had to fuck her four times before she quit sobbing and began to beg for more. What a night that was! Just the memory started him breathing hard. But not all of his recollections were pleasant.
The next morning all hell had broken loose. The girl, whose name was Maria, told her parents that she'd been bound and raped repeatedly without any provocation by Paul.
Her father was outraged and threatened to press charges. But Paul's worried parents got the parish priest to intercede. It was suggested the boy be sent to a monastery instead of prison. Maria's father agreed quickly to that because he had important connections high in the church. He knew he could have the boy who had raped his daughter punished in ways that civil law would never allow.
The Monks inside the monastery had greeted Paul Brannigan with hickory switches. They whipped his big cock bloody that first day and lashed it again countless times after that.
His long cockshaft became gnarled and twisted, able to feel only pain ... then able to feel nothing at all through the hideous lumps of scar tissue that formed.'With all the fire of manhood beaten out of him, Brannigan settled down to his studies and was ordained a priest at the head of his class.
Maria's father was still pulling strings with vengeful delight. He had Brannigan assigned to run the church in a leper colony on a remote island in the south Pacific. That turned out to be a blessing for Paul that no one expected.
He met a beautiful island girl, a daughter of the village chief. She fell madly in love with his strangely warped prick and soon brought it back to full vigor.
She brought him other beautiful island girls anxious to sample the magic of his huge twisted cock. He was not just a priest but a god to them. He fucked one succulent offering after another.
Brannigan would have happily stayed there forever, but somehow word of his island paradise got back to Maria's father. Father Brannigan was hauled off the island by shocked church officials and assigned to the miserable waterfront mission.
But tonight Paul Brannigan was thinking there might be a righteous God after all. Who else could have delivered him such an adorable young blonde?
CHAPTER THREE
"I'm Sister Angelique," she said, rushing forward to seek shelter in his strength.
Her dreaded fear of men did not include priests. They were immune to all earthly temptation, or at least that's what she'd been taught. Paul held her with one arm, cupped her chin in the other hand and tilted her pretty head back.
"No, you can't be. You're much too young and far too beautiful."
"But I am, look and see." She eased out of his grasp and pulled off her raincoat, quickly rearranging her hair and pulling the white-trimmed mantle of her crisp new black habit back in place.
"My God, I don't believe it!"
"Mother Superior gave me special tutoring so that I could leave the convent early and serve with you here at the mission," she said proudly.
"Special tutoring?" he repeated curiously.
Brannigan found a cassock in a closet by the altar and slipped it on-not because he suddenly felt more like a proper priest, but because he wanted something to hide the twisted length of his cock. It was fast swelling hard and climbing out of his undershorts.
"What kind of special tutoring?" he asked.
She told him very briefly what had happened to her, mostly about the devil lurking inside her and all that Mother Superior had done to free her from his influence.
Brannigan's grin grew wider with every word. "For all her effort, the Reverend Mother couldn't free you because she lacks the power to reach the devil where he lurks so deep inside. Only certain priests have been blessed with that ability."
It was hard for Brannigan to say it with a straight face, but he had rightly concluded that Angelique was in such an agitated state that she would believe almost anything that sounded even faintly religious.
"Luckily for you, I am one of that rare number entrusted with the key to your salvation."
"Oh, I would give anything to be rid of the evil influence."
"First you must prepare yourself. And the manner might seem strange to you at first," he warned.
"I'll do whatever it takes, just tell me."
"Remove your habit and stand naked in the eyes of God," he said calmly. "But-"
Brannigan hastened to explain, straining to keep his voice sounding priestly, making up the preposterous scenario as he went along.
"The devil will also see you naked and think that you've forsaken your vows. Then he will begin to emerge and be easier for me to get hold of."
Angelique's look was doubting, but she dutifully obeyed. She would never distrust the word of a priest. She stripped herself nude and carefully folded her habit over the altar rail.
Brannigan's mouth parched dry when he saw her unadorned curves trembling so expectantly. He swept his tongue around his lips.
"Now you must lie down on that table before the altar, on your back with eyes focused on heaven above."
Angelique's soft body quivered, but she did as she was told.
Paul Brannigan pulled four lengths of sleek black nylon rope from the inner pocket of his cassock. He knew he couldn't count on the girl accepting his line of crap much longer. He worked swiftly, chanting in Latin while binding her wrists and ankles to the legs of the table.
"Why must you tie me?" she asked in a fearful tone.
"This is to prevent you from following the devil when he leaves you," he said.
"But it hurts!"
"The ceremony cannot be effective without some pain," he said.
Angelique was prepared to accept even that. Hadn't she been brutally whipped on the cross as the price of repentance? She let him spread her arms and legs and bind them tightly to the four legs of the table.
A dozen girls before Angelique had suffered and bled for him in secret ceremonies. But none had been as tempting as this luscious little blonde. And the fact that she was a nun made her all the more appealing. Paul Brannigan had good reason to despise the church and reject its pompous piety.
He opened the front of his cassock and eased out nearly a foot of scarred prick so warped and twisted that it looked like a map line describing forty miles of bad road.
Angelique raised her head and gaped in awe, not realizing at first what the awful thing was. Brannigan anticipated the question.
"This is the key that will unlock heaven's gate for you," he said. "It will drive the devil out and set your mind at ease."
With that he stripped off his cassock and climbed up naked at the end of the table between her bound legs. Angelique began to scream. Mother Superior had warned her about men and some of the awful things they did.
"You're a priest! You can't do this to me!"
Brannigan bent over her on hands and knees. "Throughout the ages, some priests have done far worse I assure you."
He used his cock like a pry bar to part the soft lips of her blonde-fringed cunt. Angelique cringed and sobbed.
"I'm a virgin! An innocent bride of God!"
"What, no candles? No carrots?" Brannigan knew that few nuns were as pure and righteous as they pretended to be.
"Nothing!" she insisted. "There was only the big clit of Sister Bernice, but that went in no farther than you are now."
"Ah, yes, I've heard of Sister Bernice. What hell it must have been for her not being able to pop your cherry."
"Please don't break it," she moaned. "I'm promised to God!"
"Yes, you are ... and I'm one of his ordained emissaries here on earth. You won't have to wait for your reward in heaven, Angelique."
He pressed down harder with a grunt. He felt his gnarled cock strain, although it was fully hard and throbbing with vengeful lust.
Angelique screamed and tossed her head, not knowing which was worse, the pain or the fear, or the feeling of betrayal. She had successfully fought off a vicious street gang to protect her purity. Now a priest that she'd trusted blindly was about to claim it!
Brannigan read the look in her strickened blue eyes. He was a man of keen instincts and uncanny intuition.
"Let this be a lesson," he told her. "Trust only yourself and your own feelings."
He reared up and thrust down again only to have his throbbing cock stopped by her leathery tough seal. Tears watered from her wincing blue eyes and streamed down cheeks twisted in loathing. Then she managed a weak little grin when she realized her precious cherry had withstood his fearsome thrusting.
"It's a sign from God!" she cried. "You can't break my maidenhead."
"That's only a sign that he wants you to suffer more."
He arched above her helplessly bound figure and jarred her senses with a series of quick, hard-stabbing short thrusts. Angelique screamed in wide-eyed horror, but her stubborn cherry still would not yield.
She sobbed and trembled with each thrust of his jackhammering cock. Her cherry strained and began to weaken. Hot pain like sparks from exploding fireworks blazed in all directions from her cunt.
Angelique thought it must be the fires of hell. The devil was still inside her. She felt the dreaded contractions in a place that was to have remained ever pure and inviolate. The scent of her sleek pussy oils began to rise.
Brannigan felt the slick heat of drooling cunt honey flow around his bulbous cockhead. The rich but sweetly innocent aroma of virgin pussy made him slaver. He arched high and rammed down hard into her wet hole.
The blonde's eyes bulged in gaping shock. Her lush body tensed in restraint. Then a long, blood-curdling cry came loud from her taut lips. Her leathery virgin web had been softened by simmering in its own sweet juice and Brannigan's cock broke through it.
Angelique's shrill cry peaked and sank back into a mournful wail. She felt her treasured membrane split apart, then a stabbing sensation that wrenched her body and anguished her mind. She had been violated, cruelly torn, her body tarnished and made impure.
She shuddered in bleak despair. A priest had done the awful deed while she lay bound on the altar in the house of God. And Father Brannigan was leering down, licking his lips and looking smug like a cat who'd just swallowed a canary.
He could feel the sticky heat surrounding his cockshaft and smell the coppery scent of it mixed with the tang of her simmering musk. Her pussytube writhed with waves of revulsion, tantalizing him with her spasms of torment.
He drew back and felt her wringing cuntflesh twist and wrench, forced to conform to his deformed shaft. It came out of her golden-fleeced pussy smeared with streaks of virgin blood.
Angelique almost fainted when she saw that, and the hideous spoiler was sinking into her again, slowly this time. Brannigan wanted to savor the wonderful soft writhing of her innocent cunt. Every inch that entered was sheer delight for him and shuddering torture for the freshly ravaged young nun.
"You'll burn in hell for what you've done," she hissed.
"If so, you'll be there right beside me. You're no longer an innocent bride of God. You're a woman ... just a cunt to be fucked."
She groaned. His grotesquely misshapen cock was mauling her cunt, twisting and distorting the whole length of its soft channel.
Tears streamed from her fluttering blue eyes as never before. Brannigan grinned wickedly, drew back and drove in again. Her ruptured cherry burned with pain like an open wound. Angelique's heart raced.
Angelique gawked in horrified fascination every time he arched his muscular body above hers, exposing all but the head of his blood-smeared cockshaft for her to see between them. She shuddered, repulsed by the sight, but found she wasn't able to close her eyes.
Brannigan began to fuck faster, driving his ridged cock deep and twisting it like a corkscrew. She moaned and babbled religious bullshit that he was long past caring about.
"You're the first nun I've ever fucked," he said almost casually. "Not the first young virgin, but certainly the best."
"I detest you!" she snarled, weeping bitter tears.
"You won't in a little while," the priest assured her. "You'll learn to love my warped prick and beg for more."
"Never! A nun can be raped and still go to heaven."
"Not if she loves to fuck like you're going to," he said. "I can feel your cunt starting to respond already."
"That's not me, it's the devil inside."
"Bullshit!" he said with another lunging thrust. "That's just female blood and muscle in a place that no woman, not even a nun, can completely control."
He drilled and twisted his cock in again, thrilled by the seething frenzy of her sleek cunt. It clamped and slithered on his mangled cock with delightful contractions made fierce by her loathing.
Angelique's blue eyes widened, now drained of tears. She felt herself slipping, her mind giving way to that eerie sensation she'd been taught was the devil stirring inside.
His hot breath came in sharp gasps. He was tense with delight and strained by exertion. Brannigan had never fucked a more luscious beauty in his whole life, never felt a more agonized little pussy try so desperately to conform itself to his gnarled prick.
He pumped so hard and fast that his hairy groin slapped down on her padded Venus mound with a noise like a cracking whip. Angelique closed her eyes and took the pain.
"God will forgive me," she murmured, clamping her eyes and clenching her teeth, straining to stop the spread of pleasure she knew was a sin.
"For welcoming the devil inside you?" Brannigan questioned with a doubting grin.
"You promised to drive him out!" she cried.
"And I will," he answered smugly. "You'll soon feel heavenly bliss where he lurked before."
If Brannigan hadn't been fucking her so hard he would have laughed out loud. If she wanted to make getting her cunt ripped a religious experience, it was all right with him.
Angelique's pussy was starting to boil. The tortuous friction of his warped cock became intense. Her nerves cringed in places never touched before. She began to gasp as the thrilling sharp sensations spread.
Even fingers and toes numbed by the tightly knotted cords began to tingle again. Her pillowy tits heaved and her pink budding nipples swelled hard. Brannigan bowed his head and sucked first one then the other, lapping and swirling with his hungry tongue. He wasn't as deft or as gentle as Mother Superior had been. The man attacked with wolfish hunger.
Angelique responded sharply. Her back arched and her shoulders bowed. She thrust more tit up than he could swallow. The girl had forgotten the pain of her mauling on the street. Her tits were full and throbbing with desire.
Her pussy began to steam and squirm with sultry waves of motion, sleek taut ripples that tried to climb his spearing cock. The thrilling heat of passion blanked her mind. Angelique bobbed her hips and met his driving thrusts, grunting and moaning depraved sounds of animal delight.
No fear of hell could stop her now. Her climax had begun. Brannigan felt the rapid, wringing contractions come faster. He rasped deep sounds of delight. Pressure in his balls was mounting. They swayed in a hairy sac of flesh and slapped the creamy cheeks of her ass when his cock drove in.
A ridge of bone at the root of his cock slammed on her clit. He jarred the tender bud of nerves with his hammering groin and Angelique felt wracking shocks of pleasure. Her eyes widened and filled with a dazed look. All the sensations of sex were much stronger than before. She forgot shame and raged with joy, sucking in a long breath in anticipation of paralyzing delight.
This climax didn't just burst upon her dazzled mind, it exploded with shuddering force. Thrilling shocks strained every nerve. She tensed and screamed.
Brannigan gave a deep grunt and buried his cock in her just as it let go a thick shot of scalding hot cum. Angelique felt it burn deep, gushing into depths that even his cock couldn't reach. She shivered in ecstasy, driven wild by the rapid spurts.
like a tide of liquid fire, it rose in her tight channel. Slick cum glossed his driving cock and soothed the tattered edges of her torn cherry. And still there was more creamy goo coming.
It bubbled and simmered, stirred by his plunging cock. The white cream was whipped like hot lather. It filled the strained mouth of her pussy and clung to its soft lips. Brannigan kept pumping, fucking the luscious young blonde overfull. His cum sheened in her golden pussycurls, mixed with red virgin blood so that it turned pink.
Angelique couldn't stop screaming. The spasms of eerie delight touched every muscle and nerve. Finally her senses snapped under the strain. She gasped and gurgled a weary moan, slumping flat on the altar table where she was bound.
Father Brannigan thrust and fired his last shot, feeling his cock quiver long after it was gone. They both struggled to regain their breath. Delightful aftershocks still twitched their weary nerves. Then Angelique felt a warm glow of satisfaction stronger than anything she'd ever known.
"You did it," she said weakly. "The devil is gone. I can feel only bliss."
"Even though you've sinned and lost your purity?" he asked wryly.
She murmured, "Yes, even though-" Then the shocking realization hit her. "Oooh, my God!" She began to weep.
Brannigan pulled out of her quivering cunt as it began to cool. He slid off the table and walked around to the end where her head was bound. Angelique was still sobbing.
All she could think was that her whole life as a nun had been ruined. And the priest who did it was walking naked around the table, smiling down at her. His hideous long prick dripped virgin blood from her ravaged cherry.
He stood smiling and staring at her grief-strickened face. Her torment was his greatest pleasure. Ever since that young blonde bitch Maria lied and had him sent to the monastery, Paul Brannigan lid been plotting his revenge.
His hand reached under the table and tripped a lever. A folding leaf that supported Angelique's head suddenly dropped. She breathed a startled gasp as her neck strained and her head fell back. Silky blonde hair slid off the table and streamed down to touch the floor.
Brannigan worked another lever under the table and the end to which her feet had been bound began to rise. He grinned, thinking of all the trouble he'd had preparing his special altar of pain and humiliation. It seemed worth it now.
Angelique watched her feet rise a yard higher than her head. Being sharply tilted put extra strain on the cords he'd bound so tightly around her ankles! Blood rushed to her head and made her temples throb.
"Wha-what are you going to do?"
"Seek out the devil in other places," he said blandly.
"Where?"
"Just keep your mouth open. You'll see." Brannigan came around to the head of the table and stood between her wide-spread arms. His cum-glossed, blood-dripping cock loomed right above her face.
"N-n-no!" she stammered.
His deformed muscle of lewd flesh was throbbing again with new vigor. He pressed the knobbed head to her lips.
She groaned, scowling and tossing her head. The salt-copper sweet taste of blood was still on her lips and chilling fear raged in her heart.
Brannigan bent over and found her mouth with his wet cock again. She clenched her teeth and groaned sounds of disgust. He poked and prodded, bending lower so that he could kiss the blonde-furred lips of her cunt.
Angelique cringed and squirmed, wanting desperately to scream but too fearful of his prodding cock to open her mouth. Being tilted sharply head-down had slowed the flow of blood from her torn cherry, but Brannigan could still taste it on her puffy cunt lips.
He lapped and sucked and burrowed in with a hungry tongue. Angelique felt shivers of vile disgust. She couldn't imagine anyone wanting to do such a thing, especially not a priest at the altar in his own church!
Brannigan had long ago acquired a taste for freshly fucked virgin cunt. But he liked it only when his victim's feet were elevated so that everything in her would not come gushing out in his face all at once.
He liked probing with his sinewy tongue, lapping and sucking. Angelique heard the wet gurgling noises he made and shuddered at thoughts of his depravity.
The priest's mouth was not tender and clever as Mother Superior's had been. His tongue was stronger and more demanding. It lashed her clit and fired another violent urge to scream, but his hideous cock was still pressed on her lips.
Each breath she took filled her lungs with a rank scent. The taste would be even worse she was sure. He spread his mouth wide and engulfed her entire cuntslit, applying strong suction.
Angelique groaned through tightly clenched teeth, feeling that he might suck her wincing blue eyes back deep in her skull. Then he lapped and slurped her tangy little cunt gash once again. He nibbled and tongue-lashed her clit bud, focusing all his lewd stimulation on that until the anguished young nun just had to scream.
Her stubborn lips parted and his waiting cock plunged in, throttling off her tortured wail. Angelique sputtered and gagged on his foul hunk of hot cockmeat. It throbbed in her mouth and made her tongue recoil.
Angelique wanted to die rather than suffer more degradation. She prayed fervently to God for release from torment. That prayer seemed to have been answered when Father Brannigan pushed his gnarled big cock so deep in her throat that she could no longer breathe.
CHAPTER FOUR
Brannigan heard her faint cock-strangled mutterings and knew the sound of a desperate prayer. He laughed and licked sweet virgin cunt-honey off his lips. He'd lost faith in God's mercy long ago when a lying little bitch ruined his whole life.
Paul had been a high school football star, a senior with a full scholarship to play for a top university. Coaches and sports-writers all said he had a good chance to make it big in the pros. But that dream shattered when he was sent to the monastery.
He thrust his whipped cock viciously into the young nun's gagging mouth, enjoying the frantic writhing he felt deep in her throat. Some would have said his mind was more distorted than his mutilated prick, but Brannigan played the role of devoted priest by day and so few even suspected what went on in his head.
Angelique's tight throat brought exquisite sensations to his battered cock. Now that it was done and his wounds long healed, he actually enjoyed being hung with an awesome cock so warped and twisted that it pained and thrilled a woman far more than any normal man.
"I think all women deserve this," he said. "I haven't known one yet who was honest enough to speak the truth. Even Mother Superior at the convent filled your head with crap so she could have the pleasure of sucking your cunt for a week before sending you to me."
Angelique was dizzy for lack of breath. Her oxygen-starved brain reeled in a dazed state of torment that was almost euphoria. Then Brannigan eased his cock back far enough for her to grab a quick gulp of air. The nun would have rather died than be forced to swallow his cock again, but her instincts took over and she sucked in air with a rasping sound.
Brannigan plunged deep into her tilted back throat again. He had the table adjusted to the perfect angle. He could fuck her pretty face and suck her luscious cunt at the same time. He leaned down grunting and did both at once.
The nun strangling in torment felt her pussy stirring again. The peaceful bliss that followed her climax had been whipped into a frenzy by his probing tongue. Her body wanted more even though her mind couldn't stand it.
He wondered how long it would take Angelique to get over her sick feelings of revulsion. Some women never do. The girls on that remote island had spoiled him. Theirs was a simple life and they lived for pleasure alone.
Angelique had been taught all her life to equate pleasure with temptation and resist both. But her body still possessed all its primitive yearnings. Her hot flesh was willing, but her mind rebelled.
Brannigan let her gulp breath and then filled her throat again, delighting in the way anguish increased the strength of her writhing throat. Hugging waves of motion greeted his sinking cock.
Angelique was bitterly cursing God for not letting her die. Each thrust of the priest's twisted cock was vile abuse more degrading to her than being bound to the cross and brutally whipped.
He defiled her body and all she believed as well. She shuddered and wondered if making her suffer this terrible ordeal was God's punishment for taking and reading a forbidden book. If only she'd had the will to resist that first slight temptation, none of this would have happened.
Brannigan's hairy ball sac slammed her forehead whenever he thrust his cock down her throat. She could see it coming and couldn't help cringing. Men's bodies were strange to her. The hideous dangling parts seemed so grossly obscene.
His tongue kept working her clit and he made rough growling noises of animal delight. Angelique couldn't help it. Her lush body responded to him. She arched her back even though that pained her bound legs.
Her ankle and knee joints strained. The muscles in her shapely legs trembled, but she twisted and moaned and forced her cunt up into his mouth. Sparking pleasure from his tongue would dull the pain of his ravaging cock in her throat.
"You like it, don't you?" he chuckled.
"Nungh!" she groaned.
"I know. You can't hide it."
Brannigan laughed and drew back enough to let her breathe. By then the wringer-like motion of her anguished throat had washed his cock clean. He let her gape at its sheening, gnarled length and then drove it in again.
"I know you've been taught to suck cunt," he said with a wet-lipped grin. "Mother Superior wouldn't let you get away without learning that."
Angelique feebly nodded her head beneath him the next time he drew his cock back. Brannigan's head was between her upraised legs, so he couldn't see her, but he could feel the swirl of her golden blonde hair and the motion of her soft cheeks between his taut thighs.
"Well, sucking cock isn't too different. You just work your tongue inside your mouth instead of out."
She moaned and warmed his waiting cock with her hot breath. Then she stroked it timidly with her tongue, lightly touching the underside.
Brannigan sighed and rewarded her with a kiss on the clit. Angelique felt the pleasure her body craved. She curled her tongue and licked his cock more anxiously the next time.
"That's a little better. Thrill my cock and I'll make you climax again. You'll experience pleasure like before and forget all the pain."
Angelique knew that much to be true despite all the lies she'd been told by officials of the church. Her body ached for that almost magical release from suffering.
It came sooner than she expected. Being bound and tilted head-down sent blood hammering into her skull. The sharp slant also sent the heat and frenzied writhing of her tongue-whipped cunt sliding to the base of her throat.
When Brannigan's cock plunged deep, the warped cockshaft was greeted by rippling contractions. Angelique was about to enjoy the first double climax of her young life. She tensed and hissed when his warped prick pulled back, sucking hard to hang on.
Then she lapped and stroked the bulging head with her tongue. She was anxious, silently begging for the rush of pleasure that would erase pain. Brannigan obliged her with long, deep-reaming thrusts into her throat while his tongue flailed her clit and probed her cherry-stained cunt.
Angelique's eyes gazed in rapture, focused as though on some distant star. The girl no longer cared about a man's balls rudely slapping her forehead, or about the pain like smoldering embers that came from her cunt where her cherry had been torn.
She sucked his twisted cock with the passion of crazed desperation. He tensed, muscles strained by the heat and pressure in his weighty balls. Brannigan fought the impulse for instant relief, clamping a taut ring of muscle at the base of his cock to contain the sultry flow as long as he could.
The blonde nun couldn't wait. She teased and stroked with her tongue to make him cum. Brannigan's breath hissed warm on her squirming cunt slit, but he could only take her anxious tongue lashing for a few seconds. He gave in and came with a roar.
Brannigan pumped his cock in and out. The second volcanic gush of cum exploded in her mouth, drenching her tongue and slicking her teeth with a cloying salt-sweet taste. It made her want to retch. The wringing motion started in her chest and constricted her throat, but by then he was pushing his cock back in.
He felt her tortured contractions as sheer delight. The line between extreme pleasure and pain became blurred for them. Angelique sucked with such frenzied desire that her teeth raked his scarred cock. Brannigan reacted by fucking it harder and faster into her mouth and deep down her throat.
The young blonde nun sputtered and gagged, finding it almost impossible to swallow because she was tilted head-down. Hot jism pooled in the hollow that was the roof of her mouth. It gushed from her lips when Brannigan lunged in.
Silver-white cream glossed her lips and dripped into her nose. Some ran by and misted her fluttering blue eyes, but Angelique was hardly aware of the flood. Only the intense pleasure of her climax mattered. That wracked her throat and pussy together as though the two were one long single tube.
Brannigan felt weak and breathless by the time he'd pumped out his second load. Angelique was dazed, almost unconscious from the glorious climax that wracked her body from mouth to crotch. He pulled out to let the girl breathe.
She was still gagging, half choked by a flood of cum that couldn't be swallowed with her head hanging down. Brannigan worked another pair of levers and tilted the table the other way.
Angelique made grateful gurgling noises and finally managed a faint little smile. Her tongue licked the glaze of cum off her lips and she swallowed that too.
"A man's cock does things to me that no woman can," she confessed shyly.
"Yes, of course. That's the way things were meant to be."
"I'm not sure," Angelique said. "I've lived in the convent since I was six-years-old."
"Why when you were so young?" he asked. Brannigan's craggy face became almost sympathetic.
"My parents were both killed in a plane crash. My only other relative was a maiden aunt who didn't know what to do with me. She said the convent's school for girls would be best. She was a very religious person."
"I'm sure," Brannigan said bleakly. He began to untie the cords binding her to the altar table, freeing Angelique's wrists first. "So was Maria."
"Who's Maria?"
"Someone a lot like you," he said. "A long time ago." The tone was not pleasant.
"She must have done something terrible to you," Angelique guessed. She had both arms free, crossed over her chest to rub the reddened chafe marks with the opposite hand.
"She did." m
While Brannigan untied her ankles, he told the girl about Maria's merciless prick teasing and later claiming to have been an innocent victim of a vicious rape-his painful path to the priesthood. By the end he was loosening the last stubborn knot.
"And so tonight you punished me for what she did to you?"
"I suppose." Brannigan gave her a longing glance as she moved to the altar rail and started to put her habit back on.
"You are a priest, Father Brannigan. And I am a nun. We are supposed to be above that kind of temptation." Her voice was stern, her eyes steely blue.
"You enjoyed it as much as I did," he said, feeling suddenly defensive. "Maybe even more."
"Maybe," she said with an enigmatic little grin, "but we must never yield to those devilish impulses again. We have a higher mission in this life."
"A higher mission, my ass!"
Brannigan was about to grab her arm and shake some sense into the girl's head, but she was in full habit by then. Dull black folds of cloth concealed her gorgeous figure. A long black mantle trimmed with white hid her flowing mane of golden hair. Her austere look restrained him.
"We must rededicate our lives to the church," she said. "Perhaps then God will forgive our mortal sins."
Brannigan was still naked, his gnarled wet cock just starting to sag. The memory of her soft flesh still smoldered, and he did not feel much like a priest at all.
"I know you're young and overflowing with idealism," he said, "but this mission of ours is a church dumping ground. We're both here because we fucked up, so why the hell shouldn't we fuck each other?"
"We were sent here to atone for our sins," she said sternly. "Not to compound them. The church-"
"The church?" Brannigan spit the words like they had a foul taste. "Fuck the church! The Archbishop won't give me money to feed the hungry, clothe those who are cold or help the sick. He wouldn't even give nine dollars to buy a Goddamned basketball so kids around here might have something better than a bloody gangfight for recreation."
Angelique cast a doubting sideward glance through the arches that connected three main rooms of the waterfront mission. The sanctuary they were standing in, a well-equipped recreation room and a spacious dining hall beyond that. The pleasant aroma of beef stew and fresh baked bread still lingered faintly. She tried to concentrate on that instead of the stronger scents of lust that burdened her mind with guilt.
'The Lord has somehow provided for all of this," she concluded, feeling her faith even more reinforced.
"Not exactly the Lord as you like to think of him," Brannigan said.
He was putting on his cassock, the long black garb of a priest. The man was torn between two worlds-one of blind faith he'd been taught since childhood, the other of harsh reality he'd been forced to learn since. He would have gone on to explain outfitting the mission without much in the way of official support, but they were interrupted by a loud knock at the street door.
Brannigan strode toward it, smoothing his cassock and rearranging his gnarled cock, intuitively slipping back into his role as the kindly and helpful parish priest.
"Who is it?" he called, well aware that little was sacred in this part of the city.
"It's me, Padre ... Monk."
Angelique recognized his voice and it sent chills down her spine. She opened her mouth to plead with Father Brannigan not to open the door, but her throat was still thick with his cum and she found it suddenly hard to speak.
Brannigan said, "Monk!" as though greeting a long-lost friend and hurriedly unlocked the door.
The young nun standing well back by the altar recognized him immediately. Dark curly hair, dark piercing eyes, a face that was lean and almost handsome now that a friendly smile bowed his lips.
"We brought you another small contribution, Padre." The gang leader held out a soiled laundry bag stuffed full. "Some of the Slaves caught a pair of fine ladies on their way into one of those imagine waterfront condos."
Brannigan took the bag without question or bothering to look inside. He stepped back to let Monk into the church along with four others in matching gang jackets.
Angelique recognized the two girls she'd seen with him in the alley, a brassy blonde and a chemical redhead. They were both pretty but their young faces were set hard. The two young men who flanked Monk looked even more severe.
"What you got in there, Padre, is a pair of full-length mink coats and enough diamond jewelry to make a sultan's eyes pop. That fence you know should pay enough to fund the mission and feed all them old people for a coupl'a months."
Brannigan grinned and set the bag aside. "Thank you, Monk. As I've always said ... the Lord works in mysterious ways."
Monk smiled like a conspirator. "Yeah ... we kept their cash and their credit cards. You know how it is, Padre ... you gotta give the devil his due."
The priest smiled back benignly, almost as though he hadn't heard. Angelique trembled in the shadows of the altar, realizing that Father Brannigan was more than an insidious lecher, he was also an accomplice to thievery-a true partner with Satan himself.
"That ain't quite a free gift like all the others," Monk said. "We need your help, Padre."
Brannigan chuckled. "You mean that Satan's Slaves can't properly entertain two ladies rich enough to have worn diamonds and furs?"
"It ain't that, Padre. We got them two well taken care of. With forty hot young cocks in our outfit, those ladies will be treated to something their fat, rich husbands have never been able to give them-three solid days of nonstop fucking!"
"If you can satisfy them without my crinkled cock, then what can I do to help?" Brannigan asked.
Angelique shrank back farther into the shadows. Friendship and obvious cooperation between a priest and a vicious street gang leader appalled her.
"There's a young blonde somewhere around the waterfront," Monk said. "Hair like spun gold that hangs almost to her waist. Tits like bumper bullets on a vintage Cadillac. Prime stuff, if you know what I mean."
Brannigan grinned smugly. "I get the picture."
"Yeah, well Goldilocks ain't all sweet an' innocent like she seems. She dropped four of our top men in an alley with a fucking broken shovel handle."
"By the knot on the side of your head, I assume that you were one of the four," Brannigan said with perhaps too much of a smile.
"Padre, this ain't no laughing matter! That bitch put two of my guys in the hospital and gave me a headache that half a ton of aspirin won't cure."
"She sounds like quite a lady," he said, his cock starting to twitch and throb again. Angelique's spirited resistance was like a powerful aphrodisiac.
"She's fucking hell on wheels!" Monk said with sullen admiration.
Father Brannigan flipped a switch on the wall that flashed on lights to flood the altar where Angelique had been cowering, shuddering in disbelief. He made a mocking bow and swept an outreached hand in her direction.
"Monk, I would like you to meet Sister
Angelique."
The young gang leader gaped and blinked his eyes to make sure. "That's her! She's the luscious little bitch that tried to bust my head. I want her, Padre. She's gotta pay!"
"She's a nun assigned to help me run the mission. Sister Angelique is mine," Brannigan said firmly, his lips curling into a lewd grin.
"Not after what she did. I want her, Brannigan! I want her bad!"
Angelique recoiled against the altar, trembling fearfully.
"She belongs to the church," the priest insisted. "That means she belongs to me!"
"The church!" Monk sneered. "They don't give you shit to run the mission. What would this place be without all we steal and give to you?"
"Not much," Brannigan had to admit.
"You're damn right!"
Monk grabbed the bag he'd brought and upended it, dumping the contents on the floor. Two shimmering full-length mink coats tumbled out. Diamond rings, necklaces and bracelets fell to sparkle on folds of sheening fur.
"That stuff will feed a lot of hungry old people," Monk said. "You want it, you gotta give something back. I want the ass of Sister Angelique!"
She stifled a gasp of dismay with her small fist. The cowering nun felt chilled. She was being bartered for with a bag full of stolen goods.
"When Sister Angelique needs discipline, I will deliver it," Brannigan said firmly.
The pretty young blonde in a rustling black habit felt a slight wave of relief. Anything would be better than being turned over to a vicious gang with forty hot young cocks. Angelique pitied the wealthy women with the elegant furs and sparkling diamonds.
Monk thought a moment and said, "I'll settle for that, if we can all watch. I wanna see her ass whipped, then fucked hard by your big gnarled cock."
Angelique cried, "Nnnooo!"
"That's a good compromise," Brannigan agreed. "I'll even let you and the gang have the fun of restraining her." He gave Monk the black nylon cords he'd used to bind her arms and legs to the altar table.
Angelique's blue eyes flashed around the cavernous room that served as the mission church. There was no way outside except through the main door blocked by the leering gang leader and his glaring followers.
Angelique vaulted over the altar rail and ran toward the recreation room. Monk and four of Satan's Slaves took after her like a pack of hounds chasing a fox.
The girl with dyed fiery red hair was fastest on her feet. She reached the arch leading to the recreation room a full second before the terrified nun. Her green eyes gleamed with a look of cruel hunger for vengeance.
"My name's Sheila," she hissed. "It was my boyfriend whose arm you broke. Try to get by me and I'll return the favor!"
Angelique swerved and cut back between two rows of folding chairs that served as pews in the impoverished church. The long black habit kept her from running full speed. Before she reached the end of the aisle, Angelique saw the brassy blonde blocking her path.
"I'm Connie, and it was my boyfriend you stuck in the leg," she said with a steely glare. "I'm gonna love watching the Padre fuck his twisted cock up your ass!"
Sister Angelique skidded to a stop just out of reach and whirled to double back. She found the leering redhead blocking that end of the aisle. The young nun shoved two chairs apart and slipped between them into the next row behind.
Monk did the same thing starting at the back of the church, pushing pairs of chairs aside to clear a path toward Angelique. She felt a chill of nervous sweat as her heart raced in desperation. Satan's Slaves had her surrounded and were steadily closing in. Her worried blue eyes appealed silently to Father Brannigan.
"You can't let them do this!" she moaned.
"Why not? You've been whipped before. The waterfront has rules as strict as the convent, and the first of those is that you don't fuck with Satan's Slaves."
The blonde with brassy hair grabbed Angelique from behind and clamped her claw-like hands on the nun's lush tits. The nun groaned and Sheila, the fiery redhead, sneered contemptuously and snagged a grasping hand into her crotch. She rumpled the nun's habit and fingered the soft dome of Angelique's pussy mound.
"Ugggh, it's wet with bloody cum and cunt honey," she said.
Monk flashed a knowing grin at the priest who just stood watching the gang members close in. "You've already had her on the altar table?"
"I couldn't resist. You'll see why when you've ripped her habit off."
"Yeah, I can hardly wait!" Monk snaked a switchblade knife from his pocket. It snapped open in his hand with a sharp metallic click. The long blade sparkled like diamonds and sent a chilling shiver of fear into Angelique's heart. "You ain't so tough without that shovel handle."
Connie's circling grasp pinned Angelique's arms. The nun struggled in vain, weakened by the pain of having her tits mauled by the girl who'd grabbed her from behind.
Monk bowed down and raised the hem of her black habit. He cut the bottom seam with his razor-sharp knife and began to slice upward between her shapely legs.
Angelique thrashed uselessly and felt the ice-cold kiss of steel on the inner slope of her thigh.
"You twist and squirm like that, you're gonna get cut," Monk warned.
He kept inching the knife upward, splitting the front of her habit with a grating sound. Angelique winced and strained to remain perfectly still. The cold sharp tongue of steel was passing between her tits, cutting both the habit and the long robe she wore underneath.
Connie spread the ripped parts and then clamped her hands on soft naked tit cones quivering with fear. "You'll let me have a little taste of her luscious big tits, won't you, Padre?"
Brannigan nodded.
Monk gave a quick smirk and told Connie, "Squeeze her tits until her nipples bulge sweet and ripe for sucking."
Angelique moaned as Connie's hands clamped around her creamy soft tits, squeezing her taut nipples through open circles formed by the girl's thumbs and forefingers.
The leering gang leader licked his lips as Angelique's nipples swelled throbbing hard with blood powered by a fear-crazed heart beating like a drum.
When the delectable pink buds were fully gorged, he flicked the tip of his sharp knife expertly and nicked her nipple just enough so that a gleaming drop of red blood emerged. Monk bowed his head and licked that off. Then he circled his lips and sucked hard to get more.
Connie milked the wounded tit with wavering finger-strokes to encourage the flow. Angelique wailed sounds of hideous torment. The knife was so sharp and the wound so small that she hadn't even felt it at first. But now his lips pulled and seemed to draw pain into her budding tit along with oozing drops of blood.
"That's the next best thing to sucking the tits of a nursing mother," Monk said with a smack of his tightly drawn lips. The knife flashed again and nicked her other nipple.
Angelique cringed in horror, stung by the pain and shamed by humiliation. The leering gang members had circled close around her.
"You'd best be real good to the Padre," one of the rough-voiced males said. "Do the priest wrong and there won't be even a tattered little shred of your cherry left when we all get through with you."
Angelique gasped, anguished by the pain she felt now and tormented by dread of things, perhaps even worse, that were in store.
CHAPTER FIVE
Monk sucked the coppery sweet blood from her nipples until he'd had his fill. He raised his head and slowly circled a red-stained tongue to wipe his lips.
"Bend her over the altar rail," he ordered his henchman. "Spread her legs nice and wide for the padre, then bind her wrists and ankles together."
Angelique screamed. "Stop it! Let me go!" But they all just laughed and dragged her backwards toward the middle of the church, then forward to the altar rail.
Father Brannigan watched with considerably more interest, wetting his lips with anxious swipes of his tongue.
She heaved wracking sobs and muttered sounds of protest, but was bent over the waist-high wooden railing-legs on one side, arms on the other. They spread her legs so wide that it pained her broken cherry and bound her ankles to a pair of the turned wooden posts supporting the rail.
When they had the struggling, sobbing nun securely bound, Monk stepped forward and yanked off the black mantle that covered her head and her glorious mane of long golden hair. Blonde tresses spilled on the floor, sleek and soft as the mink at the back of the church.
Angelique could see the splendid furs and flashing diamonds upside down, staring between her spread and bound legs. She felt a twinge of envy along with the discomfort of being cruelly bound. Never in her life had she seen anything so luxurious. She longed to circle her neck, wrists and fingers with flashing jewels and swaddle her lush body in elegant fur.
To crave material things was almost as sinful as lust in the eyes of the Holy Order, but Angelique was intensely curious about all the pleasures of life she'd been denied while living in the convent. Perhaps, she thought, I wasn't meant to be a nun. I am unworthy. I deserve punishment and must repent for having failed the church.
Monk slowly unbuckled his belt. Angelique saw that upside-down too. He was standing directly behind her. Father Brannigan came forward then and clamped a strong hand on the youthful gang leader's shoulder.
"Keep your pants on, Monk. Her ripe young ass belongs to me!"
"I know, Padre. I'm just taking off my belt. You won't mind if I whip her butt and get it hot for you?"
"No, I won't mind at all."
Brannigan understood the gang leader's need to punish Angelique for humiliating him. Their strange and unholy alliance was based on mutual understanding.
Monk stripped a broad black leather belt from the loops of his grimy jeans and whirled it overhead. Angelique heard the familiar hiss of a skin-smarting lash about to strike and winced in anticipation of fiery pain.
"Flip up the back of her habit," Monk said to Sheila. "I want to see her luscious cheeks bare."
The sultry redhead did as she was told. Angelique's gorgeous ass quivered, naked and fully exposed. Brannigan's long twisted cock began to swell again when he saw the dark puckered lips hidden between creamy domes of soft ass-flesh.
Monk's powerful right arm arched back and came forward in a blur. Black leather hissed high overhead, curling behind him, then rushing forward with all the speed of a striking rattlesnake.
The broad black band blazed a welt on Angelique's left ass cheek and halfway up her back. She howled a scream of pain and wrenched her bound wrists and ankles. Tightly knotted nylon cord chafed skin not long healed after her ordeal bound to the cross.
Hissing leather struck on the right side next time. Two stinging red welts ran up her back. Angelique wailed another anguished cry, wondering how much torment she could endure. She clenched her teeth and prayed for strength to endure her punishment.
Proper nuns were supposed to be impassive, immune to the temptations of pleasure and unafraid of pain. Many in the long history of religion had martyred themselves for the glory of the church. Angelique was determined to join them in suffering and perhaps find salvation by atoning for her sins.
Monk swung the belt sidearm and lashed it across the soft cleft between her ass cheeks. Then he hurled the strap overhead again and cracked it like a whip so that just the curled tip stung the clenched dark lips of her ass.
That sparked pain like a hot nail driven through her and into the altar rail. She twisted and screamed in despair. The tight tube of her ass pulsed with throbbing pain. Her heart beat wildly and thundered blood into her skull.
A giddy feeling came over her. Angelique felt dizzy, light-headed and confused. Tiny red drops of blood emerged on her nipple tips.
Monk aimed low between her legs and whipped one pretty tit then the other. Twin jolts of pain blazed in her chest. Angelique gasped, her face a knot of writhing torment.
Brannigan watched with his gnarled cock throbbing. Had it been the lying bitch Maria who ruined his life, he'd have lashed harder and faster than Monk struck at the nun. The two each had a hunger for retribution.
Monk grinned and passed the belt to Sheila. "Give her a few good whacks for breaking your guy's arm," he said.
The belt hissed in a wild flurry, six sharp stinging blows that left Angelique wrung out and too shocked with pain to do more than babble.
She twisted and squirmed, grinding the soft petal lips of her cunt on the smoothly rounded surface of the alter rail. There was no handy nub of wood to stimulate her clit and bring blessed relief as she'd found when she'd been bound to the cross. She had to buck and pump her hips, mauling the soft slit of her cunt to feel even a tingle of pleasure to offset the fiery spread of pain.
"Now give Connie a shot," Monk said. "Her guy got the sharp end of a broken shovel handle shoved halfway through his thigh. Show her what that must have felt like."
The brassy blonde took a belt that was hot from lashing soft flesh and swept it back and forth, making it hiss and snap only inches from Angelique's bared thighs.
"Be glad I like the padre," Connie said, "or I'd turn your crotch into dog meat!"
She flailed the lash sidearm, back and forth across Angelique's thighs just below the ripe hump of her ass. The nun felt simmering heat in her cunt and writhing contortions of motion in her ass.
Brannigan was stripping off his cassock, baring his twisted cock before the gang members with no sign of modesty. They had all watched him sacrifice screaming young virgins before-mostly proper young girls from well-to-do families moving into the expensive waterfront condominiums being built just down the shore.
Construction of each new luxury complex meant first the destruction of tenements and flophouse hotels that housed the wretchedly poor. They crowded closer together in a slum surrounded by splendor. Satan's Slaves fought against it the only way they knew how-by robbing and ravaging the people who dared to intrude upon their domain.
Brannigan joined in their sadistic delights because those with money enough to help his rundown waterfront mission gave their contributions to the grand cathedral downtown. He'd become a confirmed lecher in exile, but was not insensitive to the needs of his poor parishioners.
He took pleasure as his just reward for having been sent to suffer along with the downtrodden. But never had the wayward priest anticipated cruel delight more than now as he stared longingly at Angelique's tender whipped ass.
Her golden-haired cunt had been whipped into a frenzy. It seeped damp warmth. Blood from her ruptured cherry ran down her thighs. The heady scent made his nostrils flare and his cock ache.
Angelique had been three ways a virgin when she first rattled the door of his waterfront mission. Now he was about to claim her last untried orifice of pleasure.
Brannigan nodded for Connie to step aside. He approached the tender young ass bound over the altar rail and had to steady his bounding cock with a strong hand.
He wet the bulbous scarred knob in her dripping honey and raised some of the sleek flow to wet the rim of her ass. Angelique shivered and moaned, thankful the whipping had stopped, but dreading the sparking tingles that made her ass squirm.
She remembered the heat, the power and the warped length of his long shaft. It shattered her cherry and demolished her precious purity. It degraded her further by plunging down her throat while still wet with cum and the red stains of her ever-lasting shame.
Now he was massaging the tightly clenched mouth of her ass with that awful thing, wetting the tightly clenched lips of puckered flesh with tantalizing strokes that swept around the rim and slowly bored in.
Her lush body quaked, nerves still taut as twanging banjo strings. The spreading force of his cockhead was a new and unknown kind of agony.
Brannigan chuckled. "There is still some of the devil inside you. He must fear my big cock because I can feel him squirm and clench your ass tight."
Monk and the other Satan's Slaves watching all sniggered. "Yes, that's the devil you feel writhing inside you!"
Angelique had been whipped almost senseless.
She no longer knew what to believe. Her emotions took control. The young nun had learned that from pleasure comes pain, and from pain comes pleasure stronger than before.
She gasped back anguished sobs and blinked away tears of remorse.
"Drive the devil out of me," she begged. "Oh, please ... dear God, through your powerful priest ... let me know the bliss of relief!"
Her voice shrilled into a squeal. The bulbous knob of Brannigan's big cock had entered her ass. Angelique's ass-hole strained to accommodate its enormous girth, then clamped on the hard, twisted shaft.
"Don't be so gentle!" Monk said. "Ram it all in! I want to hear her scream."
"It's better if she suffers slowly, inch by inch," the priest said.
Angelique moaned pathetically through gritted teeth. Tears watered her blinking blue eyes and streamed down her cheeks. His gnarled cockshaft twisted and distorted the sleek tube of her ass, forcing the narrow channel to conform itself to his warped length.
The tortured contractions she felt inside echoed in her cunt. This narrow passage was much smaller and more tender to pain and pulsing heat. She could feel each surging beat of the priest's lewd prick echoed inside her ass.
He bored into her with annoying slowness, prolonging the strain and torment of each twisted inch of cock. Angelique gasped and clenched her teeth to keep from screaming. She wouldn't give Brannigan or those watching him that extra pleasure.
The sleek dark hollow of her ass clenched the same way, rippling on his gnarled prick with exquisite tension. Brannigan dipped his hands down between her bound legs and collected more seeping fuck honey with cupped fingers. He smeared that on the lump-ridged pole not yet beside her. The wringing tension and taut friction of her ass would scald the hide right off his cock without lubrication.
Angelique breathed a thankful sigh when the next inch slipped in with less resistance. But her eyes bulged and her stomach wrenched. The huge stiff cock was already deep inside and she knew that wasn't all of it.
"Fuck her, Padre! Ream her pretty little butt!" Monk said impatiently, his cock throbbing in his grimy jeans.
Brannigan decided to oblige. The way his balls ached with steaming pressure, he couldn't play the torturously slow waiting game much longer. Angelique's anguished ass writhing were too much a tingling delight. He eased back slowly, then gave a grunt and sank his warped prick in to the hilt with one mighty thrust.
Her scream filled the church and reverberated in the rooms beyond. Angelique's luminous blue eyes flared wide and bulged like they might pop right out of her head.
"Ooooh, God!" she cried.
The lecherous priest pulled back and spiked her luscious ass again, enthralled by her rippling undulations of torment. Rings of squirming muscle surrounded him and milked the rigid twists and turns of his deformed prickshaft.
He pumped hard and fast, grinding his-hairy loins on her soft ass cheeks at the end of each deep-reaming thrust. Angelique babbled in stunned torment. She groaned and strained against the unyielding cords that bound her helpless in a bent position.
She bobbed and tossed her head, spattering tears all around the altar rail. His hot meaty cock threw her ass-hole into wild wringing convulsions.
Waves of undulating motion delighted Brannigan's cock. His weighty balls slapped her ass as he powered in and out of her deliciously tight ass-hole. Angelique wailed high-pitched cries of ecstatic torment.
The surging, gripping pulses radiated into her cunt and sent it into frenzied contractions. Brannigan reached a hand between her legs from behind and fingered her juicy clit. He whirled and stroked the tender nub until Angelique begged.
"Fuck me! Fuck my ass, Padre! Make me cum!"
Hot swelling waves of pleasure dulled her mind to the sensations of pain. She forgot the chafing cords that bound her bent double in helpless supplication. Her ass and pussy throbbed with enticing delight, both pulsing and heaving in perfect unison.
"That's it, Brannigan! Give it to her!" Monk cheered.
Brannigan drilled and twisted his cock in her tight ass-hole, but nothing he did could hurt the young nun now. She shivered in rapture, her mind dazed with delight. Binding cords creaked and strained as she bucked her ripe ass back at his spearing cock.
He gave a deep roaring grunt and rammed in hard, feeling the pressure in his balls swell to the point of explosion. Brannigan hissed, his cock rooted to the hilt. He tried to hold the jetting flow for another few seconds of exquisitely tense anticipation.
The urgent stress in his nut sac soon overwhelmed all restraint. A taut ring of muscle at the base of his cock gave way to pressure and sultry hot cum jetted the length of his gnarled prickshaft.
Quicksilver cum shot into her, a stuttering stream of liquid fire. Angelique breathed a deep moan, and he began to pump his spurting prick in and out with frenzied quick thrusts.
Slick cream glazed her tight hole and made his cock glide like a piston within well-machined cylinder walls. It compressed his sleek cum going in and lathered it as he drew back.
Each thrust brought a vicious loud slap on her whipped ass-cheeks. Angelique felt searing hot pain inside and out, but it was pain so intense that it delighted her mind. Her spirits soared upward in a spiral of dizzy delight, reaching for a new high plane of ecstasy-a gripping climax better than any she'd had yet.
By her shocked silence and widened blue eyes, they all knew the nun was in the throes of orgasm. The thrilling climax had reached its peak. Angelique gasped long and hard after holding her breath in eerie bliss for over a minute.
Brannigan fired his last dribbling spurts of cum and bent over her soft warm body. His breath rasped and he fondled her tits, whirling rigid nipples glazed with seeping small drops of blood.
That made his stroking fingers glide smoothly as his cock had in her ass on a film of sleek cum. Her butt still rippled with waves of lewd pleasure.
Brannigan caught his breath and eased his sated cock from her ass.
Sheila and Connie bent down to untie Angelique, both of them wildly horny after watching her intense climax.
"Too bad our boyfriends are so badly hurt," the blonde said.
"Yeah, this sweet little nun gets a mind-whirling climax and we get left with nothing but hot pants," Sheila said jealously. "I don't think she's been punished near enough."
Angelique sobbed fearfully, thinking that Brannigan might turn her over to the gang now that he'd violated her last forbidden portal and fucked himself weak.
But the priest surprised her. "Enough for now, and I can handle the rest without an audience," he said.
"Yeah, we ought to be getting back," Monk agreed. "We got two sexy rich ladies at the clubhouse who ain't felt my cock yet." He started toward the street door and then turned back to Angelique. "Take care of the padre and help him run the mission. You mess up again, and your ass will belong to me and the two guys you busted up."
Angelique's pretty face paled. She felt stung by the glaring intensity of Monk's dark eyes. She gathered her ruined habit close around her sweeping curves.
"You don't have to worry about me. I'll be good," she said.
Outside, as the mission door closed behind them, Sheila said, "I still don't think she's been punished enough!"
"Nowhere near enough," Monk agreed. "But Father Brannigan is a good man. We gotta keep him happy. The priests before him didn't do shit for the poor and old people around here."
"I think Sister Angelique might make trouble for him," Connie said. "She's just the type to go running to the Archbishop about what's happened."
Monk nodded. "But we'll keep a close watch on her until Brannigan has her tamed. If she shows her pretty face on the street without his permission, I want her brought to Satan's Sanctuary right away. Spread the word!"
Sheila grinned coldly. "I hope she does try to make trouble. We've still got a big score to settle with that little bitch!"
* * *
Brannigan faced the young blonde who was still pale and shivering, clutching her ruined habit close around a body recently defiled. She felt sick with shame now that the lingering shocks of pleasure had faded.
"You look like someone who needs cheering up," he said. "How would you like to go out?"
"Out? Out where?"
"For dinner and a few drinks, maybe some dancing afterwards. I know a great little club that's open all night."
Angelique's look brightened at the thought. It sounded just like a romantic evening in the book she'd taken to read. Then she stiffened her spine against temptation.
"We shouldn't," she said sadly.
Brannigan shrugged and grinned encouragingly. "After all we've done, a few sips of champagne and a charbroiled steak won't count as too great a sin."
"How can a priest afford such things?" she asked.
"I've never been charged at this particular club. The manager knows that I've persuaded Satan's Slaves not to bother the paying customers. He also donates surplus food to our charity dining hall."
Angelique felt her restless curiosity overcoming her will to resist temptation. She had never tasted champagne or a thick juicy steak, but she'd read about both.
"I-I have nothing to wear," she said bleakly.
"Satan's Slaves have provided for that, too."
Brannigan took her by the hand and led her to the back of the church. He stepped behind her and eased off her ruined habit. Angelique clutched the tattered front for only a moment and than let it fall.
"Let's start with this," the priest said, picking up a beautiful diamond necklace from the store of stolen treasure Monk had delivered that evening.
He clasped it around her neck. Angelique gazed down at the glittering stones and touched them lightly with her trembling fingers.
"There's a matching bracelet too," he said, slipping that on.
"But I don't have a dress to wear," she protested weakly.
"Put on that beautiful dark mink and no one will ever know you have nothing on underneath."
Angelique swept the sleek fur into her arms and hugged it to her tender tits, cooing fondly as she stroked her fingers through the silken luxury.
Brannigan helped her slip on the elegant long coat and beamed a look of complete approval.
"You're simply stunning!" he said. "No one would ever guess that you're a nun."
"I can't be a good nun if I give in so easily to every temptation."
"You can help me feed those who are hungry, clothe those who are cold and treat the sick. Tomorrow we sell that lovely fur to do all those things. Tonight you might as well enjoy it."
"You make sin so enticing," she said.
Fondly she stroked the shimmering fur over her naked tits. Her nipples tingled against the cool satin lining. The tiny cuts from Monk's knife had closed, but her nipples were still extremely tender.
"You're the one who's so enticing, Angelique. After we've eaten, sipped champagne by candlelight and danced for a while, I want to take you to the bridal suite of a imagine hotel and make warm and tender love to you all night long."
"Oooooh," she sighed.
It was so much like the romantic novel she'd read! Her heart raced, rapidly weakening to the lures of temptation. She had only one last feeble protest.
"I-I don't know how to dance," the girl said.
"I'll teach you. I'll teach you lots of things, Angelique."
"All right," she agreed in a voice that trembled with anticipation.
Angelique felt a last faint flicker of doubt, knowing that by surrendering to enticement she'd given up her last vague hope for salvation. But, whatever Brannigan did that night, she could never claim it was forced upon her. Still she was anxious to explore a world that was largely unknown to her.
CHAPTER SIX
They didn't get back to the mission until after ten the next morning. Brannigan changed from his dark suit, shirt and tie to the cassock of a priest and went right to work supervising volunteers in the dining hall who were preparing the noon meal for the needy.
Sister Angelique was supposed to assist him, but she lingered in the small room back of the sanctuary that had been assigned to her. She was blissful and bleary-eyed after a long night of passionate love-making.
A trunk containing her extra habits and other things from the convent had arrived that morning. On top was the long white gown she'd worn when she spoke her final bows in a symbolic marriage with God. Tears streamed down her cheeks the moment she raised the lid. She felt unworthy to even touch the glistening symbol of her ever-lasting purity.
Paul Brannigan had fucked her a dozen times during the night, thrilling her with his twisted cock. She climaxed more intensely each time, learning how to manipulate the sleek muscles in her pussy to both increase and prolong his lewd pleasure.
At dawn they paused to talk about their life together. They sipped champagne, shared a cigarette and their innermost thoughts. He wanted to leave the church and take her with him. He wanted to get married, raise a family and live as normal people.
Angelique was tempted, but too afraid to commit herself. She had said she needed time to think and she did that in the cold light of day, staring down at the beautiful white gown that symbolized her broken vows.
She stripped off the luxurious mink coat, willing her mind to ignore the tantalizing softness of sleek fur that so entranced her. Angelique then discarded the diamonds that circled her wrist and throat.
Sister Angelique put on a fresh habit and carefully adjusted the stiffly starched white rim that ringed her face. She daubed away persistent tears and vowed again to be the best nun that she could be.
"God is all-loving and will forgive my terrible sins if I have the courage to confess," she assured herself. "I will do penance and beg for absolution."
That meant getting to the grand cathedral where the Archbishop reigned supreme. He would surely understand and put a stop to Father Brannigan's errant ways.
It hardly mattered that he'd said how much he loved her only hours before, or that he wanted to build a life for them both with only rules they could comfortably obey.
"We've both been forced into a life that is completely against our most basic human instincts," he tried to explain.
Angelique felt sick when she thought how close she'd come to being persuaded. But a nun's life was all she knew. Her weakness for lewd pleasure and luxurious things had to be overcome. Confession was the first step.
It wouldn't be hard for her to slip away. Brannigan was in the kitchen helping to make soup to feed fifty or so old people already lined up outside the dining hall door. Angelique took twenty dollars from the cash box in his office, planning to use that for cab fare. The city was strange to her and she had no idea where the cathedral was.
She slipped out a rear door unseen and hurried to a busy corner a block away. There she hailed a passing cab.
"I've got to get to the cathedral downtown," she told the driver. "Will twenty dollars be enough?"
"About right if you don't plan on coming back," he replied.
"I don't ... not ever." Angelique gathered the long flowing skirt of her habit and got into the backseat. "Please hurry!"
The cab driver threaded his way back into traffic. "You from the mission?" he asked curiously.
"Yes. That is, I was."
"Brannigan's a good man," the driver said. "First one to do a damn thing for poor folks around here except preach a lot of shit about heaven above."
The driver's route took them back by the front of the mission where Angelique saw a line of at least a hundred needy old people starting to file into the dining hall.
"Without the mission, most of them would be half naked and hungry most of the time. I respect Father Brannigan, even though I ain't a member of the church."
Angelique squirmed hearing such praise, knowing that her confession would ruin Paul Brannigan. Then she stiffened her spine.
"His methods are highly irregular," she said curtly.
"So I've heard. But you gotta admit ... he gets good things done."
"He's done far too much as far as I'm concerned," Sister Angelique answered sharply.
"You figure to rat on him?" the driver asked curiously.
"I plan to see that his sinful misconduct is stopped," she answered with firm resolve. "His apparent good deeds are only a mask for despicable sin."
"Kinda figured that," the driver said with a twisted grin.
"Whe-where are you going?" Sister Angelique asked in alarm. The cab had turned into a narrow alley that was dark even at midday. "This can't be the day to the cathedral!"
"No, it ain't. But this is as far as you go with me!"
The cab lurched to a stop in the dim alley and was immediately surrounded by a dozen leering young teens all wearing jackets that marked them as Satan's Slaves.
Sheila and Connie yanked open the rear doors. One pushed the other pulled the stammering young nun out of the car.
"Wha-what are you doing? Stop that! let me go!" Angelique squealed.
Connie grinned coldly. "We just knew you'd fuck up and try to make trouble for the padre."
"I'm glad you did," Sheila threw in. "I was afraid when he took you out last night all dolled up in diamonds and furs that Brannigan might have won you over."
Monk stood leaning against the wall, calmly puffing on a cigarette, his brawny arms crossed over his chest. A smirking grin curled his lips. He reminded Angelique of Sister Bernice, the convent's cruel Sister of Discipline. But at that moment she would have been happy back inside the convent's sheltering walls.
Angelique cried desperately to the cab driver, "You can't leave me here!"
He laughed and pulled away, wondering how long it would be before the self-righteous young nun learned how close-knit the waterfront community was.
* * *
They took Sister Angelique to Satan's Sanctuary in the basement of an abandoned tenement building condemned by the city years before. The walls were damp, the brick moldy. The enormous room smelled of decay.
Sheila and Connie lit torches that slanted out from the walls in metal holders. On the wall at the far end of the room Angelique saw a leering devil's head decoration almost six-feet tall.
It had been cut from boiler plate, complete with fangs and horns. Sheila turned a valve beneath the hideous pagan idol and propane gas jetted from the mouth. She lit that with another match and leaped back as Satan's image belched real fire.
In front of the flaming devil's head, just beyond the darting tongues of fire there was a bed on a raised platform covered with a shimmering red satin sheet.
Huge candles stood by the four corners of the bed in brass holders almost as tall as a man. It looked like an altar in a church, but this was a pagan temple devoted to the worship of Satan and unthinkable sin.
Angelique shuddered violently as two of Monk's henchmen led her toward the red-draped altar bed. They laid her on her back with her legs spread and her arms stretched overhead.
The church-like trappings of the room worked strangely on her mind. Cold damp walls lit with flickering torches and the fire-breathing symbol of evil brought back frightening memories of torment she'd suffered at the convent.
Chains with locking metal bands rose from each stout leg of the altar bed. like icy jaws, those locked around her wrists and ankles while members of Satan's Slaves began to chant in some guttural tongue known only to them.
They all stripped off their clothes and donned long, hooded red capes of fiery satin. The front of each hood masked the eyes and nose of the wearer. They leered and glared at Angelique through slanted eye slits. The crown of each hood was fitted with a pair of horns just like the huge image of Satan that decorated the wall. Pulsing tongues of flame and puffs of acrid smoke hissed and spit from that hideous symbol. The leering eyes glowed red.
No less ominous looks covered the half-masked faces of flesh that surrounded the altar bed. They circled and chanted with increasing fervor, working themselves toward a fevered pitch.
Through the open fronts of the male member's capes she could see stiff cocks of all shapes and sizes. One was grotesquely long and whip thin, twanging up and down in time with the frenzied chant. Another was short and thick as her wrist, a fearsome specimen topped with a blue-red knob of blood-gorged flesh nearly the size of Angelique's fist.
The garish circle of pagan monks and nuns drew tighter. Angelique saw that one of the young males had his right arm in a cast and a sling beneath his devil's cape. Another had a blood-stained bandage wrapped around his thick muscled thigh. They had to be the pair she'd beaten in the alley!
They seemed to be leading the strange procession. Monk stood off to the side, his cape open to show the largest cock of them all-a solid foot of thick hard flesh stiff and straight as a lance. He held a three-tined fork with a long handle and was heating the barbed tines in Satan's fiery breath. He wet a finger and touched one sharp-pointed tip, satisfied when it hissed with a cracking sound.
Monk grinned and approached the mock altar where Angelique lay helpless, chained hand and foot so tightly that she could hardly move.
He motioned with the heated devil's pitchfork and his followers parted obediently to let him through. Monk leered down from the foot of the bed and gave a nod.
Sheila came forward with a gleaming cold pair of large scissors. Angelique recognized the girl's dyed red hair and the smug sneer that curled her lips.
She began cutting open the front of Sister Angelique's habit, amused by the way that made the young blonde wince and start to weep.
"You'll wish you'd died and gone to the real hell before we're through," Sheila said.
The snapping scissor jaws cut quickly to
Angelique's slender waist and continued on toward her chin. The cold bottom blade slid over the golden-haired dome of her pussy-mound. Angelique twisted and squirmed, sobbing in despair.
Her eyes clamped shut, but tears of shame still leaked through. She was being stripped naked, defrocked again for God and all of Satan's Slaves to see.
Connie, the brass blonde, pulled off Angelique's mantle and ran a hand through the nun's glorious golden hair as it spilled free. Sheila went on snipping between the anguished nun's lush tits, splitting the front of her habit clear to the chin. Then she cut the billowing sleeves open and tore the ruined symbol of piety away. Angelique had been stripped to the skin. She felt a sudden chill and shivered uncontrollably.
Monk grinned smugly and laid the head of the heated three-tined fork flat on her belly. She yelped a cry of pain and thrashed in restraint, clanking the heavy chains that bound her arms and legs.
"You should have stayed with Father Brannigan," Monk said coldly. "He ain't the perfect priest, but the man's a saint compared to anyone in this bunch."
"Yes, I know that now. He was cruel at first, but he loves me. Paul even asked me to marry him!"
"He won't love you so much when he finds out you were going to rat on him," Monk said, turning to reheat the long pitchfork in flames leaping from the devil's mouth.
"Oooooh, no! Please, let me go back to him. I'm not worthy to be a nun, but I can be a good wife."
"What man would want a woman who sneaks off to make trouble for him the moment his back is turned?"
Angelique answered with a mournful wail, writhing on the red satin sheet of the altar bed. The tines of the fork had left a smarting red imprint on her soft white skin. The long middle tine left a mark that ran from her muff of golden pussycurls all the way to her belly button. Two others left parallel marks of pain that curved upward from the points of her hips.
Monk turned back with the fork heated more than before. He held it over her quaking midsection just an inch from her tender flesh. Angelique could feel the radiating heat and shuddered fearfully.
"You betrayed your vows to God," Monk said sternly. "You betrayed a priest, a man who loves you. Only the devil himself will have you now."
Monk positioned the fork carefully and pressed down to mark exactly the same spot.
Searing hot pain flared through Angelique. The three-tined welt reddened on her heaving belly.
"You'll wear the devil's mark from now on," Mark decreed. "You'll be branded as one of us ... a slave to Satan." He stuck the head of the fork back into the fire and heated it red hot.
Angelique blinked her eyes open and stared in stark terror. The fork had been painfully hot before, now the tines glowed cherry red with heat that would char flesh and leave a hideous indelible scar.
"You can be branded with this," Monk said, "or you can serve Almighty Satan with your cunt. You can beg to be fucked by each of his loyal followers."
The nun's mouth gaped wide and her eyes winced shut. Monk brought the red glowing tines of the fork into position over her belly. Radiating heat made her welts sting even though the head of the fork was several inches above her helpless body.
"Nnnooo!" she screamed. "Don't brand me with that! Please fuck me! All of you! Each and every one!"
Monk grinned and eased the fork away. "I think Eddie should be the first since you busted his arm to protect your precious purity."
Eddie was the one with the grotesquely long cock that looked like a rigid snake of vein-ridged flesh. He grinned and licked his lips while climbing onto the altar bed. Sheila glared enviously but said nothing. Her boyfriend hunched over the luscious blonde nun and aimed his long willowy cock at her cunt with his left hand. He worked it up and down in the narrow mouth of her pussyslot, stirring her fuck-honey.
Angelique gazed in awe at the length of the slender cock-rod he was slowly pushing into her. The sleek walls of her pussy writhed and clenched with waves of revulsion.
Eddie loved the ringing tension. Few cunts were tight enough to really grip his snake-like prick. He bored deeper with grunts of delight, doing it slowly so that he could savor each tight constriction of her distress.
Angelique moaned and wailed. She tensed and shuddered when the probing head of his long cock reached the part of her cunt no man had yet touched. His hairy loins pressed down hard on the three-tined welt that sparked smoldering pain.
Eddie swiveled his hips against hers, reaming the taut lips of her quivering cunt. Fresh hot pain blazed in her tender welts, aggravated by the twisting pressure of his bony groin.
He was lopsided because of the arm in a plaster cast that couldn't straighten, but that didn't slow the speed of his hammering fuck-thrusts. Eddie pumped his hips to power long gliding strokes of his arrow-like cock.
It impaled her buttery pussy gash, clamped tight in disgust. Sheila watched, breathing hard and getting horny.
"Stick her deep, Eddie. Ram it in and tickle her nose!"
His cock wasn't long enough to do that, but it did stir a queasy lurching in Angelique's stomach each time he stabbed in and twisted. Angelique tossed her head, wailing in despair. All around she saw hooded and half-masked faces leering through devilish slanted eye slits. The restless churning in her stomach became more intense. Rippling waves of motion swept the whole length of her cunt tunnel, wringing and then relaxing.
"Sooooo deep!" she sobbed. "Ooooo, I can hardly stand it!"
Eddie laughed and increased the speed of his forceful thrusting. Her welt burned with fiery pain. He began to hiss hot breath like the Satan head decorating the wall. His arm ached inside the cast and steaming pressure swelled his balls like two over-ripe plums. They slapped the soft crack of her ass when he fucked in.
Angelique's cunt clenched and swirled with spasms of approaching delight. She sighed and began to make moaning sounds of joy. The nun no longer cared about the devil she'd been told lurked inside. Neither did she care about the chains that bound her. She only wanted the glorious relief of an intense climax.
"Faster!" she urged him. "Drive it deep and hard. Make me Satan's Slave!"
Eddie was too short of breath to reply, but he rammed and twisted his willowy prick in the hidden depths of her cunt just as his balls let go their volcanic flow. He made no effort to restrain the steaming jet of cum.
There would be two other chances to fuck Angelique when his balls weren't so weighty with urgent pressure. Monk had promised the beautiful blonde nun to each of Satan's Slaves three times. He roared delighted noises and pumped cum deep into her cunt until there wasn't a single silvery drop left for her tight pussy-hole to milk out.
"Now it's Floyd's turn," Monk said quickly.
Floyd was big and raw-boned, hung with a short stubby cock that looked like a tree stump rooted in a jungle of wiry black hair. The huge knobbed tip of his thick prick glowed purple-red and pulsed with heat.
Eddie pulled out of Angelique and slid off the altar bed to make room for his friend with the bandaged thigh.
"My thick, hot prick has been aching to fuck you," he said with a wicked grin. "Be glad Eddie greased your cunthole with cum, otherwise my prick might rip a tiny little pussy like yours."
He plunged the meaty prod in as far as it would reach, straining the cum-glossed lips of Angelique's pussy. Floyd's thick cock reached just to the depth of her cherry and the bulbous head grated on its tattered remains.
His hairy body scratched and chafed her smarting welts. Pain sparked from the mark on her belly and from the frayed edges of her shattered virgin's seal.
Floyd's cock was so hugely thick that it tore little pieces that had survived the onslaught of Brannigan's warped prick. The nun's tight little pussy started to seep blood again. He could smell the coppery scent and it made his nostrils flare.
"Glad there was a little of your cherry left for me," he said.
Angelique moaned, too sickened by disgust to reply. This was only the second in an assortment of stiff cocks she could see ringing the altar bed. There were twenty-eight more, all shapes and sizes, all twitching and throbbing with desire.
Monk saw her worried glance. "We've measured them all, Angelique. They average eight inches apiece, times thirty guys who all want to fuck you. That's twenty feet of hot prick!"
"You'll let us suck her out once in a while, won't you?" one of the girls asked.
"Sure," Monk said. "We don't want her little pussy-hole to get too wet and sloppy for the guys at the end of the line."
Angelique shivered as Floyd fucked her brutally hard with his stubby prick, delighting in the way each thrust made her groan.
"I'd fuck a lot harder than this, but my leg still hurts where you stuck me," Floyd said. "Maybe it'll feel better by the time I get back around to you again. Or maybe by then I won't care about the pain."
He laughed maniacally and pumped into her until his stubby cock spat its load of thick hot cream. It sprayed the tattered remains of her cherry and soothed the reopened wounds.
Floyd kissed Angelique's fluttering lips and drove his tongue into her mouth. She gurgled and moaned, delirious as her second climax of the day began. The nun sucked on his meaty tongue and wrung his thick gushing prick with her strained cunt.
Monk watched them part lips and wail in rapture while he outfitted his cock to be next. He slipped a pliant band of rubber over the blood-gorged knob. From that sprouted three semi-rigid tines that transformed his cock into a devil's pitchfork.
Angelique quaked and cried out when she saw the hideous appliance that extended the already impressive length of his cock. Each of the rubber tines was fitted with a triangular barbed tip.
"The forked head of my big cock will really thrill you," Monk said. "It'll do things even Brannigan's warped cock won't."
She cast a sorrowful, fear-crazed glance at the three-headed cock aimed at her cunt. "Oh, please ... let me go. Don't put that awful thing in me!" she begged.
"I said only the devil himself would want you after this, and we figure this is what the devil's prick must look like."
The pretty blonde shuddered and couldn't bear to look. Monk had climbed up on the raised altar bed and was aiming his three-pronged cock extender at her pussy.
He had to press the three rubber-barbed tines together to fit them in. Angelique howled in torment. The barbs weren't sharp enough to scar flesh, but did maul it terribly, spreading apart inside her when Monk released his grasp.
The leering gang leader bent over her and pushed deeper. Angelique winced from the pain and bit her lip so hard that it started to bleed. Only then did she remember Monk's crazed hunger for blood.
He planted a lip-smacking kiss on her quivering mouth and sucked her injured lower lip. At the same time, his rough hands capped her creamy tits, fingers whirling around her pink nipple tips to reopen the wounds made yesterday by his razor-sharp knife.
The pain of her raw wounds and his brutal stimulation were almost more than her senses could endure. Angelique felt dizzy and weak, numb in her chained hands and feet. Three springy prongs passed over the tattered remnants of her cherry and sent another agonizing jolt firing into her skull.
Angelique's eyes clamped tightly shut, but she saw exploding rockets in her mind. Bursts of red, white and blue-blazing pain that sparked and flared hotly. Her singed nerves jangled.
"Stop, don't push that awful thing any deeper!"
Monk laughed. "I've barely got my cock in you. We got a good ten inches to go."
She cringed and began to pray. "Oh, merciful God in heaven, forgive my sins and spare me this brutal abuse-"
"No sense praying to God, Angelique. You're off his list forever. Pray louder and maybe Satan will hear you!"
"That's blasphemy!" she hissed.
"You'll pray to him if you want relief in this church, Sister. This is Satan's Sanctuary!"
Monk powered in another three inches of cock and sank the trident head of the rubber pussy-teaser to spread and stimulate her wringing, tight cunthole as nothing ever had before.
She gasped strangled cries and babbled frantic pleas for relief. The words came out muffled because Monk was sucking ghoulishly on her lower lip.
"Are you begging Satan to spare you more pain?" Monk asked with a twisted grin.
"No, I'll never do that!"
"Then you must want his three-pronged spear driven into your pussy deeper!"
Angelique whimpered, but still refused to pray to Satan. Monk rammed his cock to the hairy root with a grunt. The three-pronged tip of the obscene extender reached the end of her cunt and pushed into the wider cavern of her womb. There the three pronged tips sprang apart.
She moaned, stunned by the stinging shock and the quivering motion so deep within her.
Monk drew back, watching her pain-wracked face with a twisted grin curling his lips. Withdrawing his cock pulled the springy tines slowly back into the sleeve of her cunt, forcing the prongs together.
"You want me to drive it in and let them spring open again?" he asked coldly.
"No, please have mercy!"
"Don't talk to me. Talk to him." Monk nodded toward the fire gushing from Satan's head on the wall.
"Oooooh, Satan ... I pray to you. Show mercy for this poor sinner! Don't make me suffer in hell on this earth!"
From the back of the fiery mask came a deep voice amplified to the point of eerie distortion.
"You must repent!" the booming satanic voice said. "Suffer in anguish for your hypocrisy!"
Monk leered down at her and rammed the three-headed cock into her womb. It sprang open and brought a scream to her lips.
"Hungh! Oh, dear Satan in hell below ... please accept me as your eternal slave!"
CHAPTER SEVEN
Paul Brannigan stood back of an opening in the end wall of the room, peering out through one slanted eye slit of the fiery Satan's head on the other side. He held a microphone in his hand that greatly amplified and distorted his natural voice.
He watched Angelique's lush body writhe and twist in restraint, clanking the four chains that bound her arms and legs outstretched on the altar bed. He felt pangs of mixed emotion-love for the beautiful blonde nun, and cold concern because he knew she'd tried to betray him.
The three-pronged rubber spear affixed to Monk's cockshaft ravaged her sleek cunt. She bucked and screamed from intense stimulation, nerves twanging that had never been touched before. She babbled prayers to Satan, begging for relief. That came as a climax more sharply thrilling than any she'd ever had before.
"Only in earthly pleasure is there relief from earthly pain," he intoned in a voice that seemed to be coming from the fiery devil's mouth.
Angelique lay gasping, weak with rapture that dulled her fear and numbed her sense of pain. The next of Satan's Slaves moved into place astride her as soon as Monk had removed his trident-headed cock.
Brannigan felt sorry for the girl. He loved her and wanted her for his own. But he sensed that it would take an experience nothing short of stark terror to free her from long years of strict religious training.
He set the microphone on a small table behind the huge mask and walked back to the mission. There was work to be done preparing for the evening meal in the charity dining hall, and he had no need to watch all thirty male members of Satan's Slaves condition her to willingly accept the pleasures of her own flesh.
* * *
It took several hours for the thirty hot-blooded young males to each fuck Sister Angelique three times. By then she was bleary-eyed with delight. She had experienced more than a hundred gut-wrenching climaxes and during the third round, the virile young studs had had extra staying power. Most brought her to orgasm more than once before her pussy could coax their plunging cocks to fire.
She lay as a trembling heap by the time each one of thirty had been satisfied three times. A puddle of slick cum glossed the red satin sheet spread beneath her. Girl slaves had licked and sucked her pussy clean every third or fourth fuck, but still it bubbled and overflowed with creamy hot jism.
"Now let me rest," she moaned, pleading with the fiery head of Satan. "Please, dear master of the nether world, don't let me suffer more than this."
Monk swirled his cape. "Satan doesn't answer because he's not certain you've truly converted to our ways."
"I have!" she insisted. "I love pleasure and know that I can do good things without denying myself. Father Brannigan tried to tell me last night but then I wasn't ready. Now I believe!"
Monk sneered in retort. "You would have betrayed him with your self-righteous zeal if we hadn't stopped you. He'd have been banished from the church, the mission closed and all those poor people left hungry."
Angelique wept tears of sorrow, but Sheila remained unimpressed. "She's never been hungry a day in her life. It's easy to be holy when you're well fed, the roof don't leak, and there ain't no rats crawling through your room at night."
"R-r-rats?" Angelique stammered, remembering the one that scurried across her path on the way to the mission, leaping into a trash can in search of food.
"Yeah, rats," Monk said. "We gotta fight them for survival around here." He crossed a finger over his lips and hissed for quiet.
In the sudden stillness, Angelique heard a faint sound of scurrying under the platform on which she lay bound. That scurrying became a scramble of animal noises that made the nun's blood run cold.
Monk grinned and his dark eyes flared wildly behind the half-mask that covered the upper part of his face. He took an open can of cat foot handed to him by one of the other slaves and began to smear the liver-scented paste all over the cone of her left tit, mounding it high until the creamy dome appeared to be twice natural size.
"The priest who ran the mission before Brannigan was a bumbling, bleeding-heart," Monk said. "He decided to clear the waterfront of rats by adopting all the cats in the city animal shelter."
Floyd, with his bandaged thigh, held a can of chicken-flavored cat food. He began mounding that on Angelique's right tit, shaping the strong-scented paste to match her shapely cone. He even formed what looked like a meaty nipple on top.
"But the only cats who get to the animal shelter come out of the suburbs," Floyd said. "They don't have balls enough to go after a rat. So the priest had to start feeding all the fat cats. He spent every dime the church gave him to run the mission on cat food."
Eddie, whose arm was in a cast, moved by her waist. He held a can of fish-flavor cat food and began daubing the contents into the slit of her cunt with his left hand.
"The waterfront rats ain't a bit bashful," Eddie told her. "Soon they was killing the fat cats to steal their food."
"Those rats go absolutely wild when they smell cat food now," Monk said with a fiendish grin, shaping the tip of the liver-scented mound over her left tit into a nipple.
"But the fish-flavor is what they like best," Eddie said with a smirk. "That's why I'm packing your cunt full of that. Soon as we back away from the table, some rat's gonna have himself a real feast."
Angelique now knew the next horror they had in mind for her. Her chained body had been set up as a delicious smorgasbord. Satan's Slaves all backed away laughing at her wide-eyed look of sickened distress.
It took only a moment for the first sniffing rat to appear from beneath the satin-draped altar bed. The colony nested under the rotting floor and emerged through a hole. Angelique could hear others scratching and clawing to reach food they could smell above.
The first rat leaped up on the side of the bed and began to feast on liver-flavored cat food mounded over her left tit. She could see its clicking yellow teeth working like curved fangs.
Another long gray rat leaped up on the right side, wagging its cold snake-like tail as it feasted hungrily on food mounded over her other tit. Angelique twitched and jerked in terror.
"Stop them!" she moaned. "Ooooh, dear Satan ... don't let them eat me alive!"
The fiery mask remained silent. Father Brannigan was still at the mission, helping to serve the evening meal, trying to find words of encouragement for his poorest parishioners.
Angelique strained her neck and gaped in abject terror at the rats scrambling over her tits.
There were six of them now. She could feel the scratch of their needle-sharp claws and hear the nipping of their yellowed buck teeth slashing nearer and nearer to her skin.
Between her chained feet she saw the one male member of Satan's Slaves she had yet to meet a boy in late teens with a hideously scarred face. Lifeless flesh drawn tight warped his lips into a permanent lopsided grin. He held a pump-action rifle in the crook of his arm.
"Please help me!" she screamed. "Shoot them! Don't let them eat my tits!"
His expression remained impassive even though the rats had increased their scrambling to a frenzy. Along with food they'd caught the scent of human fear and helplessness
"Can't you hear me?" she cried. "I'm begging, I'm pleading!"
Sheila said, "He can hear you, but it's hard for him to talk. Rats got into his crib when he was a baby and ate half his tongue. They tore his face up like that and pretty girls like you have shunned him ever since."
"What's his name?" Angelique asked desperately.
"We just call him Ratshooter. He's very good with that gun."
"Ratshooter, please help me! I'm-I mean, I was a nun. I've trained all my life to help people. I need your help now! I'm one of Satan's
Slaves just like you!"
Ratshooter's steely gray eyes flickered, but the hands holding his rifle never moved. Beautiful girls like this one had mocked him all his life. They made fun of his gaunt face and his faltering speech. He enjoyed watching them suffer in return, and he enjoyed Angelique's hideous torment most of all. She had turned against a kindly priest who had befriended him.
Another rat emerged from beneath the red-draped altar bed. Its pink nose twitched nervously. This large rat was the leader of the pack. It knew the dreaded scent of Ratshooter and his deadly, well-oiled gun.
But the king rat could smell the even stronger scent of food. More hungry than cautious, it leaped up on the foot of the bed between Angelique's bound legs and burrowed its long pointed snout into her pussy. The hungry rat was greedily licking her clit to get at the fish-flavored cat foot.
The others had eaten almost everything off her tits and were battling fiercely over the last remains. Their flashing claws left bloody slashes on flawless white skin and their yellowed buck teeth nipped like razor-sharp knives.
That huge rat burrowing between her legs pawed her pussy lips and wiggled his snout deeper into a narrow channel packed tight with delicious food. The scent of blood from her tattered cherry mixed with the smell of fish and sent the rat into ravenous frenzy.
It felt like a big hairy cock wiggling and twisting in her narrow tunnel, a cock with teeth and a flailing tongue. Angelique loathed bestial abuse, but her cunt began to respond to hideously intense stimulation.
The rats scrambling all over her tits tasted tiny droplets of blood on her nipples. One braced on its forepaws, arching high with yellow buck teeth flashing in the wavering light.
Angelique shrieked in terror, certain that her nipples would be bitten right off. Her teary eyes clamped shut and she did not see Ratshooter bring the rifle to his shoulder.
Her fearful wail kept her from hearing the sharp little crack that sounded just as the rat's glinting yellow teeth touched her nipple. She felt a string of terrible pain ... then the rat's head exploded.
Sister Angelique's religious training had covered all the fiery torments of hell, but nothing in all that teaching had prepared her for the excruciating torture and vile, dehumanizing degradation she suffered at the mercy of starving rats.
Her face became a stark white mask of tortured loathing. Her skin turned sweaty cold except where it had been splattered with warm rat blood. The lewd beast worming into her pussy was a nightmarish thing to think about, but perversely exciting as well.
The rat was larger and more lively than any man's cock. Crazed burrowing for food in her slender fuck tunnel was starting the hard contractions of a hideously intense orgasm.
A rat on her chest bared its slashing yellow teeth and lunged at her blood dripping nipple. Ratshooter's rifle cracked again. Angelique's eyes were open then, frozen wide with a blank look of terror beyond comprehension.
She saw the rat's furry gray body pierced by the bullet as though it all happened in slow motion. Blood geysered out the far side as the lead pellet passed through. It splashed her face and chest and she watched the rat's body fly over her head in the throes of death.
Its death spasms were no less frantic than the contractions in her pussy. The rat was all the way in her except for its snake-like tail. That wagged back and forth between her spread thighs.
The crack of gunfire and smell of smoke sent the rats scurrying away, all but the one burrowed deep in her sleek cunt. It clawed and nipped at the enveloping walls in a blind frenzy to find food.
The burrowing rat became frantic as the rippling walls closed in with crushing force. Its desperate squirming made her sensations of obscene pleasure even more intense.
Her cunt's wringing spasms cut off the rat's breath. Smothered in constricting pussy flesh, it twitched erratically for a full minute, bringing her bestial orgasm to a thrilling peak. The wide-eyed young nun howled a cry of shrill pleasure, squeezing out the rat's dying breath.
Tension left her strained body and the nun fell limp in lewd bliss. Not only had she found relief in orgasm, but her passionate undulations had killed the loathsome beast that both tormented and enthralled her.
All of Satan's Slaves stood gasping, eyes riveted on her splayed crotch and the last reflexive twitch of the dead rat's tail. Ratshooter grinned calmly and yanked it out.
She shuddered. "Thank you."
She was spiraling down from the dizzy peak of obscene delight and didn't want to be reminded how it came about once she fully regained her senses.
Ratshooter brought a pan of water and sponged away the blood. Then he cleaned her wounds and applied a soothing first aid cream. His stroking hands returned natural warmth to a lush body.
"I want you to fuck me now, Ratshooter," she said.
"R-r-really?"
"Yes, really. I'll be better for you than anyone before."
Ratshooter grinned warmly, so pleased by her willingness that his scars scarcely seemed noticeable.
"Release her," he said. "I don't think she needs the chains now."
Sheila freed Angelique's wrists while Connie opened the manacles locked around her ankles. They were all smiling now. Sister Angelique had gained immeasurable respect during her last ordeal.
"Hey, Ratshooter," Monk said with a wry grin. "Watch yourself. That girl's got a killer cunt!"
* * *
It took Angelique more than an hour to fully satisfy Ratshooter's pleasantly large cock. He'd been too long ignored by too many girls and never had he fucked one as eager or as beautiful as Angelique. And never had he experienced such hard milking contractions in climax. She drained and sated his anxious cock expertly.
"I think we should consider her for full membership," Sheila told Monk.
The rest of Satan's Slaves murmured and nodded in agreement.
"She deserves more than membership," Satan's thundering voice intoned. "Sister
Angelique should be our High Priestess of Pain!"
That stirred another loud murmur of agreement.
"I'll get her a cape!" Sheila said.
Angelique sat up smiling on the altar bed and swirled her long golden hair. Her acceptance was gratifying. She only hoped Paul Brannigan would welcome her back as well.
"And bring her a cat-of-nine-tails too," Paul said in a deeply distorted voice. "That is to be the symbol of her authority. I have a special treat in store for our lovely new High Priestess of Pain."
Angelique felt a restless curiosity, hoping that her special treat would be Father Brannigan's big gnarled cock. Of all who had fucked her, she still liked him best.
Sheila and Connie cloaked the golden-haired girl in a flowing long cape of red satin. They fitted the hood with its two devil's horns carefully on her head and adjusted the front piece that masked the upper half of her pretty face. Then Sheila handed her a cat-of-nine-tails larger and more ominous-looking than the one used by Sister Bernice.
Angelique hefted the long-handled lash with nine sinewy tongues of leather tipped with hard knots. She turned to face the fiery mask.
"Oh, mighty lord of the underground, what treat do you have for a devoted slave?" she asked.
"What treat would you like most?" Long tongues of spitting flame came with the question.
"I would beg my fiery master for the most wonderful cock on this earth. I would like to be with Father Brannigan again and atone for my attempt to betray him."
"I will consider your request, my pretty High Priestess. But for now the offering is one of pleasure you will enjoy perhaps even more. Bring in the wayward sinner!" his thundering voice roared.
Wide double doors at the far end of the room swung open on squealing hinges and four of Satan's Slaves marched a struggling big nun into the room.
Angelique gaped, "Sister Bernice!"
"She has broken her sacred vows by leaving the convent without permission. She came looking for a young nun named Sister Angelique and did so with lechery in her heart."
"For that she must be punished severely," Angelique said in a tone strained with delighted anticipation. "Strip the lewd bitch and bind her facing Satan's image!"
Obedient Slaves overpowered the screaming big nun, wrestling her to the floor. Chattering female members ripped and tore her habit and gaped in awe at sister Bernice's frig clit. Then they lifted and dragged her toward Satan's fire-breathing visage.
Sheila extinguished the propane-fired torch, but the heavy metal remained searing hot. They yanked up Bernice's long arms and bound her wrists to the devil's horns.
Her tits were full and firm, topped with large dark nipples that aligned perfectly with the slanted eye holes in the huge steel mask of Satan's glowering face. Her firmly mounded tits pushed through the metal openings.
Monk secured a chain to one of the leering devil's hot fangs and looped it tightly around Sister Bernice's waist. He cinched the free end to the other fang, pressing her naked, darkly furred cunt slit against the gaping mouth.
Hot metal burned her powerful loins.
"You bastards!" Bernice screamed. "Let me go! I'm a nun. The Sister of Discipline-"
"Then you above all others should know that you've broken your vows by leaving the convent without permission," Angelique said. "And to do that for lust compounds your terrible sin!"
Sister Bernice didn't recognize Angelique's voice. Nor had she recognized the young blonde's luscious body.
Now she stood bound to the image of Satan, her arms stretched high overhead so that her toes barely touched the floor. She felt pain in her wrists and elbows. Her shoulders and arm muscles ached, but the worst pain was the burning sensation all around her pussy mound and its protruding big clit.
Angelique strode into position, arcing her whip hand high and hurling it far back. The lash hissed in a room that was suddenly still with tense expectation. Sister Bernice winced and tried to steel herself against pain soon to come.
The red-garbed High Priestess of Pain swung hard and cracked the nine-tongued lash across the back of her former tormentor.
Sister Bernice gave a blood-curdling scream. She had often inflicted, but seldom experienced pain. The lash struck twice more before the echo of her first anguished cry had faded.
On the far side of the wall, Brannigan could see her enormous clit pushed into the mouth opening in the steel mask. He dropped to his knees with lips tightly drawn and sucked it in to meet his flailing tongue.
Sister Bernice gasped. A thrilling and unexpected shock of pleasure dulled the pain of blazing welts that crisscrossed her broad back. She pushed her cunt mound farther into the devil's mouth and moaned, tossing and rolling her head.
Angelique raged. "How dare you foul the image of Satan with a pious cunt that has never been fucked?"
She hurled the lash in a vicious sidearm arc and stripped Bernice's tautly rounded ass cheeks with nine blazing welts. Sister Bernice screamed and moaned joyously with the same breath. Brannigan reached his hands up and was whirling her nipples hard. They poked through the eye holes of the mask and swelled hot with rushing blood beneath his spinning fingertips.
"You find pleasure by pushing your innocent cunt into Satan's mouth?" Angelique said in a tone of accusation.
"I can't help it!" the Sister of Discipline moaned.
She knew now why the young nuns she'd bound to the cross could not resist tingling their clits against the wooden nub. Having her clit sucked and tongue lashed by an unseen stranger was very thrilling. She gasped lewd cries of delight.
Angelique laid on the lash without mercy, striping Sister Bernice's ass and broad back alternately until the tangled pattern of fiery welts began to show traces of blood.
Brannigan sucked and licked the big nun to a torturous climax just as Bernice thought she would pass out from the pain of her brutal lashing. She tensed and strained, tossing her head so far back that she could see a half circle of swelling hot pricks behind her. Bernice gulped.
"Fuck me, somebody ... anyone! All of you, I have to feel a real cock!" she cried.
Angelique grinned coldly and nodded her consent. Her arm was tired from flailing the lash and she was anxious to see Father Brannigan again. Inflicting pain made her pussy as hot as when she received it.
"I want each and every one of you to fuck her," she commanded. "But only up her ass! No one is to touch her cunt-except to fill it with cat food."
CHAPTER EIGHT
Angelique arrived back at the mission wearing a sweater and skirt she'd borrowed from a female member of Satan's Slaves. She liked the way the soft, tight-fitting sweater showed off her tits and hoped that Father Brannigan would notice.
He was waiting in his room just across the hall from hers. The rest of the mission was dark and deserted, closed for the night. They were alone, but Angelique wasn't sure she could face him. Brannigan had to know of her attempted betrayal by now.
Attired as a priest, he stood in the doorway of her room and gazed fondly at her beautiful curves.
"You don't look much like a nun in that outfit," he said.
"I don't feel much like a nun either. I became one of Satan's Slaves this evening."
"Yes, I know. The High Priestess of Pain. I'm the one who appointed you."
"Agh, I should have known! And you had Sister Bernice brought to me?"
"Yeah, she got so horny for you that she came here looking for a sexy young cunt to fuck."
Angelique grinned slyly. "I think Sister Bernice will be more interested in thick hot prick by the time Satan's Slaves get through with her."
"Yes, I'm sure. She'll go absolutely wild when a man's hairy loins bear down on that huge clit."
"I'm glad you sucked her off. Without some pleasure she would have fainted from the pain."
"This will no doubt finish our careers with the church," he warned. "When Sister Bernice turns up missing, Mother Superior will know where she went. The Archbishop will investigate and..." His voice trailed off, but without any hint of regret.
"It doesn't matter," she said. "I made up my mind this evening that I'd never wear a habit again. I want to live free and enjoy life."
"In that case, I have some great news for you-"
"What?" Angelique's heart was racing, hoping that he meant his offer of marriage was still open.
"Sister Bernice wasn't the only one who came looking for you this evening," he said. "There was also a lawyer who's been handling your trust account all these years. Next week all the money will be yours."
"What money? I don't know anything about a trust account."
"When your parents were killed in that plane crash they had quite a lot of flight insurance. There was also a successful lawsuit against the airline. That money has been wisely invested in a trust for you but now it's all yours. The lawyer said you'll be a millionaire."
"A m-m-millionaire?"
"Two or three times over," he said bleakly.
"Aren't you happy for me?" she asked with her luminous blue eyes ablaze.
"For you, yes. For me, I don't know. What would a girl so young, so beautiful and so rich want with a has-been priest?"
"An enormous and delightfully crinkled cock, for one thing. I'll marry you tomorrow if the offer you made the other night is still open."
Brannigan gave a sheepish shrug. "I think maybe I got a little carried away when I proposed. Yours is the greatest pussy I've ever fucked ... but I don't think I could be really happy for very long with just one cunt."
"That's no problem. I love your kinky cock, but there are still a lot of others I'd like to try. Now that I've found pleasure, I want to experience it every way I can."
He grinned ecstatically. "You want to start in your bed or mine?"
"Neither one-at least not yet. There's one more thing I want to talk about."
"What's that?"
"I want to go back to the convent," she said very seriously.
"But I thought we-"
"Just for one night," she assured him. "Tomorrow night. And I want to take you and all of Satan's Slaves with me. When we leave the church, I want to leave it with a bang!"
He grinned in sly contemplation. "You mean a gang-bang! It's a great idea! But that place is built like a fort."
"Yes, but the same key that let Sister Bernice out will let us back in." Angelique displayed the large brass key proudly. "I found it with her things. She must have taken it from Mother Superior. The same key opens her private quarters. I can't wait to see her face when you fuck her! She's been aching for a real cock all her life."
The width of his lewd grin increased greatly. "When do we leave?" he asked.
* * *
A caravan of cars drew near the convent at dusk the next day. Angelique and Father Brannigan sat in the back seat of the lead sedan. He had a hand under her short skirt, his middle finger hooked into her juicy tight cuntslit.
She moaned joyously. Monk was driving, envious as hell. The car had smelled like sultry fuck honey for the last forty miles.
"You'd better stop here," Angelique said. "There is always a nun on watch in the bell tower. If she sees all these cars, she'll sound the alarm. And they aren't totally defenseless, you know."
"Don't remind me," Monk said with grudging admiration.
"The fun you'll have tonight should more than make up for a bump on the head," she said earnestly.
"I'm sure it will," Monk said as he stopped the car.
He was grinning ear-to-ear. Angelique's position as High Priestess of Pain had been much enhanced by her idea to raid the convent and ravage all the virgins inside its bleak walls.
"How do we get around the old biddy on watch in the bell tower?" Monk asked.
"That 'old biddy' is a gorgeous redhead of twenty," Angelique said.
"Oooh, yeah?" Monk's interest increased. "So how do I get to the bell tower?"
"Paul and I will distract her while you and the rest of Satan's Slaves circle through the trees to the back of the convent. There's a small door in the middle of the east wall. This key will fit the lock. After that, you're on your own-just watch out for shovel handles!"
They left all the cars parked out of sight in a sheltering grove of trees. While Monk and the elite members of Satan's Slaves put on their devilish long red satin capes, Angelique and Paul walked partway up the grassy knoll toward the convent's main barred gate.
He hugged and kissed her, fondling Angelique's lush tits under the sentry nun's watchful eye. The redhead on duty in the bell tower raised binoculars to her eyes. She watched his hands knead heaving tits encased in a snug-fitting sweater. Then he eased Angelique to the ground.
Brannigan stood over her and whipped out his hugely swollen and grotequely twisted cock. The tawny red-haired nun's eyes nearly popped out of her head. She heard the footfalls of another nun padding softly below.
"Sister Maria, come watch this!" the redhead whispered urgently.
"What's what, Sister Theresa?" She was climbing the rough-hewn wooden ladder to the top of the bell tower.
"There's a man with a hideous big cock about to fuck a girl in front of the convent."
"Oooh, my God! Give me the binoculars!"
"No, I saw them first. You're lucky you get to watch at all," Theresa groaned. "He just shoved it all into her!"
"Let me see! Give me the binoculars!" the other nun insisted.
"All right, but just for a moment. I want to watch her climax."
Sister Maria stared intently and turned a knob between the two eyepieces to fine-focus the binoculars. She looked again and gasped.
"You know who that is?"
"No, who?" Theresa asked curiously.
"That's Sister Angelique!"
"Mother Superior's little favorite? Let me see!"
While the two young nuns who were supposed to be on guard watched Angelique come to a climax on the grassy knoll , thirty of Satan's Slaves' elite corps slipped unseen through a narrow oak-planked door. Twenty hot-blooded young males with cocks already throbbing and ten street-wise chicks entered the convent.
The cross where Angelique had been bound, whipped and sexually abused stood dark and silent in the center of the cobblestone-paved courtyard. Hooded figures with horny and half-masked faces slipped quietly through the court, fanning out.
Sister Theresa and Sister Maria did not hear Monk's sneakered padded feet climbing the ladder. Nor did they hear Floyd, who followed close behind him.
The boys caught the two nuns completely unaware, both busy squabbling over the binoculars, wanting to watch the wild gyrations of Sister Angelique's grinding climax. They were taken from behind, their habits rudely ripped off. Minutes later, neither young nun had to fantasize about the thrills of orgasm. There was virgin blood spilled all over the bell tower floor.
Angelique heard lewd cries of delight louder than the warning bell they were supposed to ring.
"Time to go," she said to Brannigan. "Mother Superior doesn't know it yet, but her lifelong prayer is about to be answered by the devil himself!"
They put on horned and hooded red satin capes that half-masked their faces and circled quietly to the open door in the convent's back wall. Monk had left it open, the key in the lock. Angelique removed it, knowing they would need the key to open Mother Superior's private door.
From the novice quarters where she once lived as a gray-robed drudge dreaming of pleasures outside the convent's thick walls, Angelique heard an obscene chorus of orgasmic cries. There wasn't a cherry cunt left in that whole wing of the building, and voices twined as one begged for more.
With her long red cape fluttering to reveal the lush splendor of her naked curves and the stout black cat-of-nine-tails clenched in the small fist of her right hand, Angelique led Brannigan to the stairway that slanted up to Mother Superior's private quarters.
The serene and stately beauty in charge of the convent was lying stark naked on her narrow bed and plunging a lighted candle in and out of her sleek cunt. By its flickering light she was trying to read the romantic wedding night scene in the book Sister Angelique had taken to start this all. She had the sinful words practically memorized.
Mother Superior heard distant lewd cries of delight from below but they seemed to be nothing more than echoes of her own. She was experimenting with a new rhythm, driving and twisting the tallow candle with more power than ever before.
Her eager cunt had wrung the fatty candle shaft soft. She thought about going down to the kitchen and finding a carrot, one that was long and slightly twisted. That would delight her wringing cunt even more!
Then she heard the lock click open and thought that it must be Sister Bernice. The stern Sister of Discipline had been absent at bed-check the night before, but Mother Superior had been willing to excuse that. Now her heart raced as she quickly discarded the candle, expecting her lesbian lover to walk through the door.
Angelique entered first and saw the tallow taper fucked soft being thrown away. She leered through the slanted eye slits of her devilish mask and swirled her flowing red cape as she raised the nine-tongued lash high above her horned and hooded head.
"Mother Superior," she cried with girlish delight. "You have sinned!"
Nine leather thongs with lightly knotted tips slashed down and blazed a spider web pattern of welts across her bounding pussy mound. A shriek of terror burst from the Reverend Mother's gaping lips. She had enjoyed mock discipline at the hands of Sister Bernice, but this lusciously formed blonde creature wasn't playing games.
Each of the golden-haired girl's lovely features was etched in her mind. She recognized the one-time novice despite a hood that covered her glorious blonde mane and a mask that covered the upper half of her pretty face.
"Angelique!" she cried.
"Yes, it's me," she said unabashed. "You sent me to hell and I've come back with the devil himself!" She swung the cat again and made her former master scream in stark terror.
Masked as Satan, Father Brannigan entered the room. He pushed the heavy oak door closed behind him and clicked the lock. His gnarled cock protruded through the front of his robe like a broken tree limb. Angelique's pussy thrilled him, but her willingness to join in other lewd pleasures thrilled him even more. At last he'd found a woman really worth having-one whose greatest delight was delighting him.
She whipped the regal nun's pussy mound hot with her lash. Cunt honey oozed, then gushed from a narrow slit fucked often by everything handy except a real man's cock.
Brannigan adored Angelique for preparing such a tempting treasure for him. Their life together would be heaven on earth, of that he was sure. Later he would reward her with tantalizing thrusts of his twisted cock, techniques he learned while in exile on that remote Pacific island.
Angelique thrashed the woman's cunt repeatedly with her nine-tongued lash. "You told me about the devil that lurks inside," she hissed. "But he hasn't been inside you yet!"
Mother Superior writhed and whimpered in pain. She wasn't used to anyone commanding her. Angelique drew four black nylon cords from an inner pocket of her cape-the same ones Brannigan had used to bind her prostate when her cherry was popped.
She expected the Reverend Mother to have the same kind of violent misgivings the first time her body was entered by a real cock, so she worked quickly while the woman was still limp with burning pain.
Angelique bound Mother Superior's wrists and ankles to the four corner posts of her bed. She cinched the knots tight, chuckling with fiendish glee.
Brannigan's love for the sexy young blonde soared each time she tied a knot. What great form of devotion could a woman show than to prepare another for the man she adored?
Mother Superior winced frightfully when a rugged male clad as the devil's disciple crouched between her bound legs. Her dreams of sex had become a nightmare. His twisted cock was a hideous thing!
"Think of it as a candle," he said in a kindly tone. "The only difference is, this one burns hottest at the end you're going to feel deep inside you."
"Nnnnoooo!" the reigning nun cried.
But Brannigan slanted his warped fuck-lance down and wet the knob in a soft valley of flesh already damp witjb sultry oils of anticipation.
The Reverend Mother had excused her use of candles and other paraphernalia to stimulate real fucking. She had also mentally pardoned all her lesbian encounters, including the delightful days and nights spent with young Sister Angelique. In her mind, she still felt pure-but that was a feeling destined to last only another few seconds.
Brannigan massaged her clit with the bulbous head of his hot prick. It made the bound and cowering nun gasp and cringe worse than all the dread that rippled through Angelique a moment before her pussy felt cock for the first time.
Brannigan had no sympathy at all for the older woman still clinging desperately to her imagined purity. He rammed into her wet cunt with one mighty thrust. It made a squishy sound of submission. She groaned, then wailed, then screamed like a wounded eagle. Her precious cherry had been demolished long ago, but the image of chastity remained until the lewd priest rooted his cock to the hilt and twisted it around in the mouth of her pussy.
Mother Superior climaxed almost at once, primed by romantic images in her mind and by long years of nagging frustration. Her cunt flew into a frenzy.
His hot breath poured over her face. He kissed her lewdly with a thrusting tongue. He fondled her firm-peaked tits and whirled her nipples until sensations of pleasure sparked like the two ends of a broken high voltage line.
Angelique watched it all with a smug grin curling her lips. She had given her man this pleasure, and no matter how much he enjoyed it, he would later enjoy her even more. She had learned a lot since leaving the convent, and finding out that she was now rich beyond her wildest dreams seemed to be hardly more than a footnote in the textbook of life.
She had learned how to live outside the convent's forbidding walls of restraint. Angelique now knew all of life's mortal pleasures ... how to give and how to receive. She wanted only to expand knowledge long denied her, as Brannigan's cock was expanding Mother Superior's cunt.
He was nothing like a carrot or sleek tallow candle that grew weak with heat. The harder her wringing cuntmuscles gripped his gnarled cock-shaft, the more it responded with throbbing deep thrusts. The Reverend Mother gasped, wishing her legs weren't bound.
Angelique sensed the woman's need. She knew the desire to clamp and squeeze with all the force of her legs and drive a man's cock to more satisfying depths than he could on his own. She found a knife on the sideboard and slashed Mother Superior's ankle restraints.
Her legs kicked up like uncoiled springs and scissored tightly around Brannigan's waist. She humped and bucked her hips, clamping her long and elegantly tapered legs to ream his cock deeper.
Angelique felt a slight jealous twinge. Long deprivation made the middle-aged nun a frenzied fucking machine. But her newly acquired self-confidence remained firm. When their vengeful raid on the convent was done, Brannigan would be stroking his hands adoringly through her long golden hair, sucking her lusicous tits and hammering her tight pussy full.
Mother Superior climaxed with a scream. Angelique walked to the opened shutters and gazed wistfully at the cross in the moonlit courtyard. It seemed more distant than the dark side of the moon.
The Reverend mother's wild orgasmic cries might have been echoes of her pain under the lash while bound to that cross. A glossy nub of wood gleamed in the silvery glow from above, but Angelique had found more intense pleasure and was already anticipating the joys of life outside constricting walls.
Brannigan's big gnarled cock fucked Mother Superior to the first real climax of her life. Angelique strived consciously to ignore the woman's gurgling sounds of rapture. The new life she envisioned with Paul Brannigan outside the church was not fully complete.
She could recall that line of old people waiting outside the mission for a free meal they needed just to survive. Angelique was then on her way to inform on the kindly but quite unconventional priest. By luring him away with her lush body, the result would be the same. The mission would have to close, or it would be turned over to a priest not street-wise enough to run the place on the meager allowance provided by the church.
Angelique stared at the rough wooden cross in the moonlit courtyard below, oblivious to Mother Superior's lewd cries of delight. Brannigan was still fucking her hard with his twisted cock, coaxing her toward another climax.
She only worried about the mission being closed. It was more a part of his life than hers, but Angelique wanted no lingering regrets when they began their life together outside the church.
Mother Superior climaxed four times before Brannigan withdrew his gnarled cock. She gasped sadly and then saw that six of Satan's Slaves were lined up waiting for her.
Brannigan curled an arm around Angelique's slender waist. "Why so sad?" he asked consolingly.
"I'm worried about the mission!" she cried. "I don't want those people to suffer because of me!"
He held her close. "I've had the same thought Luckily, I know a lady who is rich enough to support that mission out of her petty cash. We can establish a tax-exempt foundation-"
"But who's going to run it? I really don't want to spend the rest of my life making soup."
"Why not Monk and his group? They're all approaching the end of their teenaged gang years. The experience would be good for them and with proper funding there'd be no reason for them to steal."
"You think Monk would go along with that?"
"We already talked it over." Brannigan grinned.
"I'm happy to give up my position at the regular church," she said. "But I'm not so sure about resigning my place as the High Priestess of Pain."
"Well, you might have some trouble hanging onto that no matter how hard you try. Sister Bernice is in the running. Last I heard she'd killed three rats with crushing cunt muscles."
"That bitch!"
Brannigan smothered further protests with a tongue-thrusting kiss that marked the start of their new life together.
