The young novice was suffering torment beyond belief. Not only was she enduring the pain of physical punishment and torture inflicted on her soft, tender flesh, but her mind was torn asunder by perhaps the devil himself.
She sobbed at the altar, unable to keep her naked, sixteen-year-old frame still as Sister Agnes poured the strange, bubbling mixture over her skin. How to choose the correct way terrified her.
Was she to bind her soul to the power and will of Sister Agnes who preached the evil of the world and the thought that the very Pope was damned himself? Or was she to reject the powerful, old crone and bind herself to the warm, carnal pleasures offered her by the mysterious Father Martin.
The battle raged in her soul, her flesh afire with both pain and ecstasy. She seemed to be facing damnation either way she turned.
Sister Agnes began to chant over her, now, speaking the ritual words and incantations in her harsh, compelling voice. Just beyond the altar, the weak, trembling child could see the grinning face of Father Martin, his long black beard gleaming with sweat.
He beckoned to her and her loins throbbed with desire, even as the first, cleansing lash of Sister Agnes's whip crashed across her delicate shoulders.
CHAPTER ONE
I speak now of the soul.
And the flesh that can twist its purpose and channel one into sin and the fires of damnation. I speak from experience, for few have seen what these old eyes have witnessed, few have lived what this body has endured.
I know, my beloved, to whom I consign this manuscript, that you shall find it beyond belief. That you shall read it as the ravings of a demented and sick old woman. You shall not accept what I put to paper, but believe me, it is the truth.
How fortunate for you, that you did not live in the times I am about to describe for you. One as Godly and loving as yourself would have surely perished in the world I lived in. Your soul would have been eaten as if by fierce and wild animals.
The last twenty years have been peaceful and kind. No horror has been visited upon our quiet convent, no destruction has befallen us. You have grown up in the contentment and safety of the righteous. The ways of God's servants have been your protection and blessing.
It was not always thus, let me assure you. Many years ago, when I was but a child things were different. Fear stalked the land like a hooded avenger. Weeping was the order of the day and death a constant companion. Within these very walls, sin and evil dwelt as if natural inhabitants of God's shelter.
Do not mistake me, my child, this very convent was more drenched in horror and devilish damnation than even the countryside surrounding it. No peasant, no bandit could have been worse than some that called this place their home.
Let me take you back to that time, let the years fall away from my mind and allow me to remember everything as it was. I shall spare no one, least of all myself, in this sordid tale. For I am as guilty as even the worst of them.
I had not always been so evil and wicked. When I was a mere girl of sixteen and brought to this place by my village priest, I knew nothing of the ways of the devil, and" very little of the flesh.
My young body was ripe and eager to learn, though, and the wise father realized that without parents, I would soon fall into the hands of some young man and thus be forever stained by the loss of my innocence.
He thought by bringing me to Saxony, he would spare me this damnation and evil. In the good sisters hands he placed me, confident that they would protect my purity and righteousness. May God forgive him his ignorance, he surely could not have known how wrong he was.
I can remember the day, clearly, that he made his decision. I had been a haughty child, orphaned at fourteen, two years without parents to guide me, and well on my way to becoming the village trollop.
I had not yet given up my precious chastity. I was a foolish young girl, quite ignorant of many things, but wise enough to know that the value placed on that minor bit of flesh that guarded the inner recesses of my sacred chamber was not to be treated lightly by me.
I worked sometimes in the village tavern and overheard many bold and rude conversations the men had concerning women. To a man they all agreed that a virgin was the highest prize for marriage. Without it, a girl was given the lot of whore, to be used and discarded at man's leisure.
So, while I had discovered the pleasures my flesh could give me, having touched myself often while bathing, I nevertheless understood that if I allowed some young stallion between my things, I would be making a grave mistake for a moment's excitement.
This I resolved not to do. I was eager to love with a boy, and excited by the strangeness of another's flesh pressed close to mine, but however bold I grew, I still would not submit to the final ecstasy.
This, of course, created a few problems for me. As I grew more involved with the young men of our village, their impatience with my refusals heightened. They reasoned that they did not need to dally with me, when there were other more willing girls to choose from.
I knew they cared not for my heart or soul, but only for the pleasure my body could bring them, and I would not surrender, but I grew more and more despairing as the situations proceeded.
I did not wish to be rejected. Nor did I wish to have my loins lay unfulfilled and throbbing with frustration. I had no experience with anything more than casual kisses and caresses, so I did not know how to resolve my frustrations.
Then I met Stephen. He was a tall, slender horseman who had no visible means of support, but always seemed to have enough money to enjoy himself. He teased me endlessly in the tavern, always making sure to leave me a bit of change for my trouble in putting up with him.
I was greatly attracted to the bold young man. His lean, hard body filled my dreams with erotic excitement and fantasy, and his gruff, manly voice made me quiver when I was near enough to hear it.
One afternoon he endeavored to take me for a walk. He wished to speak to me privately, he said. He professed affection for me and a desire to be alone for a length of time.
I made secret plans to meet him after my chores were done. I whisked through my tasks and hurried to the meeting place in the stables behind the small church in our village square. He had chosen the spot, thinking it to be too bold for anyone to suspect us of a tryst.
Once I reached the hay-strewn loft where he awaited me, he embraced me passionately and pressed his lips to mine in a savage and hungry kiss that was more bold and thrilling than any I had had before.
His tongue roamed greedily over my teeth. I felt the rough, seeking dart stabbing violently at them, forcing me to part them and grant his arrow access to my own.
I shivered as his strong, wild fingers traveled over my naked arms and down to my sides. He cupped both palms beneath my slender buttocks and dug his fingers deep into my flesh through my shift.
I moaned softly, unable to tear myself away from him, though I was filled with fear and trembling with a loss of control. His tongue lashed back and forth against my own and his fingers kneaded my quivering buttocks with a greedy passion.
"Please, Stephen, this is not right," I whispered hungrily, my voice a quivering tremor of passion mixed with doubt. "We ... we should not be doing this!"
"Ahh, sweet Adele," the handsome young man murmured. "You can not know how much I need you! You can not understand how my flesh burns to feel your soft body next to it! I ache for you, sweet Adele, with all my body and soul!"
I laughed softly, tipping my head back and allowing his lips to press hungrily against my throat. His fingers were sliding over my thighs, pulling on my dress to bare them to his greedy hands.
I felt the tips of his fingers slithering over my warm, moist skin and I groaned sharply as he began to caress the trembling flesh of my inner thighs. His hands were pleasing demons that I had no desire to escape as they crawled steadily up to my hot, naked mound. He was breathing harshly, his hot breath searing the skin of my chest as he moved his lips down to my half-exposed bosom.
Hungrily he used his chin and mouth to pull the top of my shift down and away from my small, budding globes. I felt his lips brushing across one of my nipples and I almost screamed in aching delight as he flicked his tongue at it wickedly.
"You are as sweet as new wine, my darling," he whispered softly. "You body as soft and tender as a babe's. Let me love you, Adele, I shall make you happier than you ever have been before!"
I felt his fingers at my loins now, gently probing the sparse tufts of hair that covered my quaking mound. I felt two fingers rubbing back and forth against the wet, slippery petals that guarded my sacred chamber and I gasped, pushing away from him as violently as I could.
"No man has had me," I hissed, shaking my head grimly. "I shall not lie down like a common whore or mindless animal! I value myself too highly for that, Sir!"
Stephen laughed in delight and sat down in the hay, easing his frame against the soft, pliant grass. He patted the place beside him, smiling broadly at me.
"Come, little Adele," he chuckled softly. "There is no need to fear me, I shall not injure you, nor shall I rob you of your worth, I promise you!"
Something in his voice made me trust him, and I gingerly approached the spot where he sat and eased myself down beside him. He placed his arm around my shoulder but made no move to pull me to him.
"I can feel your body alert to the passions you are feeling, my love," he told me softly. "The heat I felt pouring from your loins was enough to tell me you ache for relief from the throbbing you endure."
I could not keep from sighing in agreement, nor stop myself when I fell against his chest, groaning with frustration. "Ohh, dear Stephen," I moaned. "I can not find the answer for the fire which consumes me. I can not quench this thirst I have."
He laughed, his hand dropping to my breasts and cupping over one of them tenderly. I shivered as I felt his fingers kneading and squeezing my tortured sphere, but his touch was so gentle and leisurely that I felt no anxiety or need to stop him.
"There are other forms of pleasure," he whispered knowingly. "Than your mother or the dullards in the village tavern have learned."
My lips were at his thin, sensual petals and I was kissing him lazily. "What are you suggesting, Stephen?" I asked, feeling the harsh, pounding desire welling up in my loins once more. "How else can one be satisfied, other than in the fashion I have learned. My own hand can not tease my desire half as much as yours."
Stephen chuckled softly once more and moved around in front of me. He smiled wickedly and dropped both hands to my bosom. Gently he pulled the top of my dress down and away from my breasts once more, then quickly slid his hands beneath the hem of my simple garment.
"I shall bring you to the heights of ecstasy, my love," he whispered softly, riding his fingers over my damp, quivering thighs once more. "I have learned much in my travels. The secret of the ancients exist in my soul. I shall teach you how to feel more pleasure than you would ever have dreamed of, and not once shall my shaft penetrate nor attack your precious maidenhead."
I had no idea how he meant to accomplish this, but I trusted him completely by now. My flesh was burning with the familiar fever of lust and I was too weak to resist anything he offered other than a direct attack on my virginity.
I shivered uncontrollably as he forced my dress up over my hips, exposing my loins to his hungry eyes and greedy hands. No man had gotten this bold with me until now, and I moaned, blushing with a bit of shame.
"Ahh, you have an exquisite body, sweet Adele," he murmured, pressing his lips to my breasts, now, as his fingers gently massaged my quivering mound. "So beautiful and unmarred. You are a vision, my love, a sweet goddess, indeed!"
I sighed heavily as I felt his lips capture one of my pert, hard nipples and suck it tenderly into his mouth. Harsh, powerful sensations of delight raced though my breast as he locked his teeth around the imprisoned nugget and lashed at it with the tip of his rough, powerful tongue.
His fingers roamed over my hillock with a growing passion. I felt one digit slicing back and forth along the cleft between my womanly lips and I shuddered as the caress sent spasms of aching greed racing through me.
The wetness of my eager love was pouring from my loins, now, coating his fingers with a fine, sticky film of my passion. The heat burned deep in my aching chamber and as I gazed down at his trousers, I could see the bulge of his own desire expanding rapidly within the tight garment.
He chuckled almost cruelly and quickly forced the trousers down and over his slim, hard muscled limbs. Once freed, his manly tool leaped to full erection and throbbed with visible need between his thighs.
"Take hold of it, my love," he whispered against my aching breasts. "Take hold of my shaft and caress it. Do as I do and we shall both be granted the relief from this exquisite agony that we seek!"
I was frightened, of course, but I did as he suggested. As his own fingers began to gently probe the hot, taut tunnel beyond my quivering lips, I wrapped one hand around the quaking tool and squeezed it fondly.
I felt him shudder with delight and heard the tortured moan of wanting escape his lips. His rod was thundering in my grasp, hot and fevered blood tearing through it wildly, making it pulsate violently against my palm.
I felt an awesome sense of power then, and was thrilled to realize that it was I that was giving him so much pleasure. I squeezed and massaged the huge organ, warming to my task as I moved my fingers up and down the fat, warm pole.
His lips were traveling over my belly now, though I was so enraptured with the excitement of his fingers in my pit and the steady beating of his manhood in my hand, that I hardly noticed his mouth drawing near to the rim of my damp, slippery mound.
"Ohh, Stephen, this is so good," I moaned in an aching voice. "I feel so wonderful! I can not describe how I feel, my love, I can not!"
He laughed, his voice a harsh groan. His fingers probed deeper into my pit, rolling and turning until they were tapping insistently against my maidenhead. I gasped with shock and a stinging delight and shuddered with involuntary spasms of need.
"It is just beginning, sweet Adele," he whispered savagely. "Now, pay attention to what I do, you are about to experience the fires of ecstasy, my adorable child!"
I quivered as his mouth ran over the flat, hard flesh of my belly and his lips kissed my slippery hillock in hunger. His teeth tugged playfully at the sparse strands of hair that covered my pit and I gasped loudly as I felt his tongue slithering over my warm, aching petals.
"Ahh, such a sweet tasting chamber you have," he chuckled gruffly, riding his arrow of passion back and forth along my swollen lips. "You are sweeter than wine itself, dear Adele. The finest grape can not touch your precious fluid!"
God, what ecstasy I experienced under his knowing lips and tongue. Never had I imagined one could do that to me and I was thrilled and excited beyond measure. I gripped his manhood hard in my hand, and pinched the thick, engorged tip of his organ between my thumb and forefinger.
We were lying beside each other, now, and I felt his free hand pushing on my lithe body as his other continued to caress my loins. I discerned that he wished me to lay in opposition to his head and I quickly arranged myself in such a way.
Now, as his mouth moved over my hot, damp mound, it became clear to me that his plan was to have me attend to his organ with my own, youthful petals. Never had I heard of such a thing, and for a moment I was revolted by the very idea of placing my lips against the fevered flesh of his rod.
"Kiss me, my darling Adele," Stephen moaned thickly. He thrust his groin against my face and his shaft brushed by my cheek. "God, put your mouth on my tool and give me the pleasure I am granting you!"
I was in a clear dilemma, now, for while I was repelled by the idea, my body was on fire with lust and desire, and my mind crying out for release from the torture of wanting that I was enduring.
I knew I could not disappoint him if I wished to have any pleasure from his mouth that so hungrily lapped at my loins. I would have to return the delights he was giving to me, or he would surely leave me at once.
He had not attempted to steal my virginity in any way, but would be content, it seemed, with my mouth if I would only give it to his quaking rod. Pushing aside my doubt and distaste, I determinedly pressed my lips to the hot, throbbing weapon in front of me, feeling the first shock of a man's organ at my mouth.
He groaned wildly in response and shuddered uncontrollably it seemed. His flesh seemed as fevered and burning as my own, and as I kissed the fat, warm surface of his tool, I could feel the pounding blood that engorged the massive spear, pulsating violently against my tender petals.
Lovingly I moved my mouth downward over the huge, quaking prong. I licked and nibbled at his flesh with increasing excitement, quickly growing fond of the taste. I loved the way his shaft pulsated with growing need, the way his flesh seemed to continue to swell beyond belief.
I eagerly rode my mouth down to the fat, hairy bag that contained his balls and slithered my tongue teasingly through the coarse strands. He shuddered once more as I tugged on his hair with my teeth in a wicked fashion.
"God, dear Adele, that is marvelous," he moaned in a thick, tortured voice. "Now take them in your mouth, my darling, take them in your mouth, please!"
Boldly I parted my lips and teeth and accepted the throbbing sack within my oral cavity. I closed my mouth around the bag and felt the thrill of his flesh pounding fiercely against my inner walls.
I lashed at the throbbing stones with my tongue, taking great delight in tossing them back and forth against my inner cheeks, while I began to suck on his imprisoned stones as he begged me passionately to do.
I could feel the juice of his wanting churning in his bag, making his whole body quiver and shake with uncontrollable greed. His mouth now bore down deep between my youthful thighs and his tongue lashed hungrily at my tender love lips.
Ahh, what sweet ecstasy I felt at that moment. I was trembling between the world of girlisliness and the aching pleasure of my coming womanhood. I felt his rough, eager tongue slicing between my damp, hot petals and I screamed as he drove the spear deep into my steaming chamber.
"Yes, ohh, dear Jesus, yes," I sobbed, jerking spasmodcially as his tongue drove to my maidenhead, licking' and slashing at my virginal interior. "Ohh, Stephen it is so good, so very good, indeed! More, my love, more!"
His hands slipped beneath my taut buttocks, now, and he began to squeeze and fondle them, pulling my loins tightly against his working lips and tongue. I gasped as he sank his fingers deeply into my flesh, kneading my ass with increasing frenzy.
Now I sucked and lathered his balls with a wild abandon. I forgot all about my hesitation, then, so eager was I to give him the pleasure he was creating in me. I lashed at the pounding stones with my tongue and blew devilishly warm currents of air against the quaking bag.
I felt one of his hands suddenly tugging on my hair, trying to pull my head from the tortured sack I held in my mouth. "My cock," he groaned in a thick, broken voice. "Now my cock, dear Adele. Suck my cock, now!"
His mouth buried itself between my limbs once more and I quickly began to kiss and nibble my way back up along the huge, pulsating tool. I could think of nothing, now, but returning the delights he was giving me. Nothing but taking that fat, hard prong into my mouth and leading him to the point of bliss that we both so urgently sought. I found the rim of his helmet, then, and without pause, fastened my teeth around it and drew his hot, engorged head into my mouth.
He almost screamed with delight, bucking frantically as I locked my lips around the pole and hungrily gathered more of the spear into my mouth. I had to relax my throat muscles quickly to grant him access, but in a matter of moments, he was buried to the hilt in my passage and I was sucking eagerly on the root of his massive tool.
I loved how it felt pounding so fiercely in my throat. I loved the harsh, demanding fire that raged in his flesh and how he gasped and moaned as I began to move the quaking weapon back and forth along my tight, narrow tunnel.
He twisted and turned under my attack, lathering my mound with a frenzied need now, driving his tongue in and out of me, relentlessly. I screamed softly as the spasms began to race through my loins, burning hotter and hotter in my taut, virginal cave. Never had I felt such overpowering desire, so commanding a passion roaring inside of me, and I was beyond thinking of anything but my lust and its fulfillment, now.
Faster and faster he slammed his tongue into the depths of my pit. He lathered my inner walls with a fierce and savage fury. His teeth nibbling wildly on the tender petals that guarded my steaming chamber.
I felt his stabbing arrow bringing me to a height of ecstasy I had not dreamed existed and I was breathless and weak with pleasure, my own mouth attacking his manhood with an uncontrollable passion now.
I sucked powerfully on his rod, dragging my teeth along the throbbing tool as I buried it in my throat. I felt him jerking involuntarily now, his body seized in the grip of his passion, bucking and thrashing beyond his control.
"Ohh, God, yes my love," he moaned, shuddering violently. "Yes, suck me, Adele, suck my cock so well! Ohh, God, love, I am dying of pleasure!"
He lathered my loins with abandonment, now, pumping his tongue in and out of me in a wild, rhythmic manner. Each stroke he took brought me nearer to a moment of savage eruption and I could barely contain myself as my lust grew to overwhelm me.
I drove his cock deep into my mouth, now, and sucked as powerfully on the huge weapon as I could. In his flesh I could feel the fierce need reaching a point much as my own and I knew that both of us were swiftly approaching a violent release.
Suddenly my loins exploded under his driving tongue and I was gripped by such a wild and thrilling excitement that I could hardly keep my mind on my task. I sobbed and groaned as the orgasm roared in the pit of my loins, churning in my aching chamber with an uncontrollable fury.
"It's happened, it's happened," I sobbed, my voice muted by his manhood as I groaned. "Ohh, such bliss, such ecstasy! Yes, Stephen, yes!"
He laughed in delight and drank from my bubbling pit with an eager hunger. As the climax tore through my inner cave, I bore down on his huge, throbbing prong and attacked his flesh greedily.
He jerked and shuddered under my driving tongue and sucking mouth. I could feel his shaft grow taut with excitement, then he groaned almost in agony and bucked forward as boiling, thick fluid began to spurt from the head of his pounding spear.
"I'm coming, dear Adele," he moaned thickly, as the bubbling liquid that was so thick and creamy filled my mouth to overflowing. "I'm coming so good, my love, so good in your mouth right now!"
Again and again the evidence of his passion shot into my mouth and I tasted its brassy texture. I swallowed greedily, wanting to get every precious drop that I could. It had a strange and oily taste that was not unpleasing, and I continued sucking on his tool until I had drained the last of his fluid from his loins.
The two of us lay there trembling for what seemed like hours, our bodies damp with sweat and the lingering traces of our passion. I felt completely exhausted and emptied of all emotion and desire. The experience was more than I had conceived of and beyond my girlish understanding.
I felt sinful and evil, but strangely I did not mind it. I knew I had done something wicked, perhaps even perverted, but I did not seem to care. All that I could think of then, was how wonderful it had felt and how powerful the pleasure and demand I had experienced had torn through me.
Stephen cradled my head against his chest and gently caressed my naked shoulders as I lay within the strong crook of his arm. I shivered with the many delicious sensations that rippled through me, feeling content and happy in every way.
Perhaps I might have ended up his bride, then, had not events taken the turn they did. Perhaps, given such an introduction to the bliss of fleshy delights by this strange and marvelous man, I might well have lived out my years as a happy peasant women, content to feel secure in the arms of her man.
But both of us were tired from our encounter and that naturally left us prey to the onrush of sleep. The sun was baking the hay loft at that time of day and we both fell into the quiet, restful state without knowing it.
I was dreaming of nothing, just adrift in the silent blackness, renewing my energy when the world came crashing back in on me with a fierce and savage scream that rudely pulled me out of my billowing darkness.
At first I had no idea what was happening to me. I blinked my eyes, staring dumbly into the space above my head, trying to make sense of what was going on. Above me stood a trembling, rage-filled man wearing the garments of a priest.
"Foul animal," he growled savagely, kicking viciously at my lover beside me. "How dare you defile a child like this in God's stables?"
I realized at once that it was Father John, our local priest and the fear raced through me violently. He ignored me almost completely, driving his booted foot repeatedly into poor Stephen's ribs.
I screamed in fear and tried to protect my young man, but Father John pushed me aside and began to lash at Stephen with his riding crop. The sound of the blows roared in my ears as he brought it down hard on the young man's naked back.
"Scum, pervert animal," hissed the good Father. "How dare you take this poor child and corrupt her so? You shall burn in hell for this, you beast!"
Quickly Stephen scrambled to his feet, regaining his composure. Fighting off the old man's blows, he laughed in merriment.
"I have not defiled her, dear Father," he chuckled softly, ducking away from the lashing crop. "Only made her happy. You may seek inspection if you wish, you shall find her virginity still intact!"
"I shall hang you myself, animal," hissed Father John, attacking in force, now.
Stephen shook his head wearily and stepped aside, landing one punch on the priest's temple that knocked the man unconscious at once. "I am afraid that is one event I can not attend, dear Father," he chuckled softly.
He turned and lifted my chin, kissing me sweetly on the lips. 'Perhaps we shall meet again my dear," he whispered softly. "But for now, I must flee before this old goat awakens and spreads the alarm."
"Take me with you," I sobbed, falling to my knees and clutching at his thighs. "I shall die without your love!"
He pulled himself free and laughed again. "I doubt that, sweet Adele, but it is nice of you to say so. Until we meet again, my sweet."
With that, he quickly pulled on his clothing and leaped on his horse, riding out of the barn without a second glance. I lay naked in the hay loft, sobbing and wailing in despair, my first love vanished almost the moment I had found him.
CHAPTER TWO
Naturally enough, Father John felt my purity and innocence in peril after that. He vowed to save me from the evil intentions of men such as Stephen and quickly took me off to the sisters of Saxony.
"They will love you as one of their own," he promised me. "They are a respected order and if you are fortunate enough, perhaps you can take the vows and become one of them, my dear!"
I had no such desire, of course, and I was still in grief over losing my beloved Stephen so quickly. I wanted only to die at that point, though I had not the courage to end my own life, so it mattered little where I lived at that point.
The convent was set in Northern Germany, high on a hill overlooking a dark, thick forest. It was an isolated place, beyond the reach of most that traveled that part of the country, and few people even of the church ever visited there.
The convent was set behind high, stone walls and looked dark and menacing as we approached. I felt strange as we drew near, as if I were entering a dangerous and evil land, rather than the safety of God's handmaidens.
Even Father John seemed uneasy when we reached the tall, gloomy walls of the convent. He seemed nervous and even frightened as he slammed the huge, golden ring against the wooden door to signal our presence to those within.
I felt a strong desire to flee as I sat huddled in a blanket atop the wagon we had ridden in. I ached to leap from the seat and run from this place, escape whatever lay behind those dark, cold walls.
But there was nowhere for me to run. The forest was a dangerous place for a full grown man, much less a young, pretty girl, and I knew that I could not do anything but surrender to my fate, no matter how much it frightened me.
The door swung open with an ear-piercing screech and a nun dressed in severe black stepped from behind it, glaring at us. She was perhaps forty or more and her features cruel and unforgiving.
"What do you wish here, Father?" she said, her voice cold and almost angry. "Why do you disturb our holy life this evening?"
Father John cleared his throat nervously and pointed to me. "I have brought this child to be saved from the sinful world, dear Sister," he explained. "I wish to shelter her from sin before it has a chance to taint her purity!"
The woman gazed up at me, a thin smile coming across her lips. "She has the look of one already brushed by Satan's hand," the woman hissed. "I would wager she has experimented with sin before."
"Nevertheless," Father John insisted. "You must take her in. It is your duty to save such children before the devil clasps them to his bosom."
The woman glared at him openly. "We will decide what our duty is behind these walls, Father," she said coldly. "But bring her in, God can always use another servant. Our Lord has a purpose for all his wives!"
With that she motioned us inside the walls and Father John quickly beckoned me down from my perch on the wagon seat. I dropped to the ground and followed reluctantly behind the two of them into the convent itself.
Once inside, the sister shut the door with a harsh slam and locked the huge, iron bolt in place, sealing both of us in. This gave me a sense of being trapped and I shivered uncontrollably with almost naked fear.
The sister led us to a large building at the far end of the court yard and made us pause as we reached the door. "I shall inform Sister Agnes of your arrival," she said. "She shall decide what to do with you."
Then she opened the door and we stepped into a house unlike anything I had ever seen before. The luxury was indescribable. Gold and riches covered the room in decoration. It was as if a fairy story was coming true before my eyes. The sisters lived with a sense of poverty, while surrounding themselves with treasure, I realized.
We waited in the main hall for a few moments, then the sister returned with a young novice perhaps a year or two older than myself. She was dressed in a plain, black shift, her head covered with a hood, shading her face almost completely.
"This is Sister Inez," the older nun told me. "She will show you to your temporary quarters. Obey her as you would the Blessed Mother herself. We are very strict around here, young woman, disobedience is punished severely!"
She turned to Father John, then, and jerked her head in the direction of the hallway beyond the main room. "If you will follow me, Father, I shall take you to Sister Agnes, now. She is eager to greet you," the woman said, smiling thinly.
He nodded and bid goodbye to me, telling me to listen to the sisters and be good, then turned and followed the other nun down the hall, disappearing out of my sight into a room at the far end.
"Come with we, sinner," hissed sister Inez, once they had gone. "You shall have to be kept from the other novices until you are deemed fit and cleansed. You have entered a most holy place and we do not care to mix with those tainted in the flesh!"
She led me to a small, dark set of stairs at the other end of the main hallway and indicated that I should enter the cellar below. I gazed at her in confusion and she rudely pushed me down the stairs.
I stumbled for my balance and frantically pressed my body against the damp, moldy walls for support. Sister Inez was carrying a blazing torch by now that barely lit our way as we wound down the steep, long passage.
At the base of the stairs, she shoved me along a narrow corridor until we reached a series of small, dark cells. Everything was damp and musty down there and I already felt chilled to the bone, even with the blanket wrapped around me.
As she pushed me into the cell, Sister Inez yanked the blanket from my shoulders and then set the torch she was carrying in a holder on the wall. I stood in the middle of the tiny room, quivering as I stared at her fearfully.
She flipped the hood back on her shoulders and for the first time I saw her face, clearly. She was quite pretty, almost beautiful, with soft, sensual lips and a face that was pleasing, though quiet stern and severe.
Slowly she inspected me from head to foot. She" smiled thinly and nodded. "All right, unclean slut, strip off that garment," she hissed coldly. "I need to inspect your maidenhead before we go any further!"
I gasped in shock. I could not believe she truly meant for me to do this. I had never heard of such a thing and I made no move to obey her command. She pulled the strings that held a short strap to her side and dangled a wide, leather band from her hand in a threatening manner.
"You heard what Sister Elizabeth said," she murmured grimly. "While you are with me, you shall obey me completely, or suffer the rewards of your disobedience!"
I realized that she was absolutely serious and I had no desire to be beaten by the young girl, so I pulled the string at the top of my dress and allowed it to fall in a puddle at my feet.
Sister Inez's eyes lit up at the sight of my naked flesh. She ran her tongue over her lips almost in anticipation it seemed and her smile grew wider and more excited.
She stepped over to where I stood, trembling violently with the cold, now, and gripped one of my thighs with her free hand. "Spread your legs, girl," she barked cruelly. "Give me room to inspect your worthless chamber!"
I stifled a sob of shame and did as she commanded. I felt her fingers probing my damp pit, inching their way inside of me until they were pressed tightly against my taut, unyielding maidenhead.
She twisted the digits cruelly inside of me and I let out a sharp gasp as the pain of her rough inspection raced through me. She ignored my groans and continued probing my narrow inner flesh until she grunted her satisfaction.
"At least you are pure in that sense," she mumbled as she withdrew her fingers from my cave and stood up once more. "Of course, that is only your flesh, your mind and soul are another matter."
She walked around my body slowly, humming to herself as she ran a finger over my back and then down between my breasts. I felt this to be a curious sort of inspection for admittance to a convent, but I dared not speak.
"Over by the wall, girl," she finally hissed at me, pushing me along with her rough, calloused palms. "Lean against it and put your hands up to those rings above your head!"
Trembling with a growing fear, I did as she ordered, moaning a bit as she tied my wrists to the rings with short lengths of leather cord. In a matter of seconds she had my hands bound to the large, iron rings and I was trapped in position against the cold, damp wall of the cell.
"The first thing you must learn," she growled, taking a step back from me, now. "Is how unclean you are! Your flesh had not been purified, girl, you need to cleanse it with the pain of repentance!"
I started to turn my head to protest that I was not so unclean as she thought, when she suddenly lashed out with the wide, leather strap, cracking it hard against the points of my naked shoulders.
The pain raced through me savagely and I screamed in agony, shuddering from the force and effects of the blow. I was terrified and shocked at the same time, and before I could speak she laid another blow onto me, lashing my buttocks, this time.
I screamed anew, quaking with the harsh, stinging pain that the strap gave to my poor, defenseless bottom. Never had anyone hit me that hard before and the pain went deep into my flesh, ripping through me like a burning iron.
"Stop it," I sobbed, shaking my head wildly. "Ohh, God, don't hurt me! Why are you doing it? Please, please don't hit me again!"
I could hear Sister Inez almost laughing as she brought the strap down against the base of my spine in a coldly calculated fashion. Once more the pain engulfed me and I could almost sense the ugly, red welts rising up in my damaged flesh.
"You are full of sin," hissed the young girl. "You stink with the taint of the devil's hand! You need to be beaten, to have the devil driven out of you! This is only the beginning, girl, you have much to learn of how evil and ungodly you are!"
She lashed me viciously with the strap, now, bringing it down against my body again and again. The blows she struck were harsh and swift, expert in execution for it was obvious that she was well practiced in this sort of punishment.
"Drink of the loving cup of pain," she chanted to me as she brought the strap down hard upon my aching buttocks. "Feel your sin leaving you as the blessed agony takes its place! You shall not have evil thoughts with the pain confronting them! They shall vanish under the agony that consumes you!"
I leaned against the wall as Sister Inez continued to strike me with the strap. I could barely stand for the awful hurt she was inflicting in me, I sobbed and screamed, begging her to stop but she acted as if she could not even hear me.
"I'm a good girl," I protested wildly. "I am not defiled, I am pure! Please, I am not evil! Do not hit me again, I beg of you, please stop this torture!"
"Foolish daughter of Satan," laughed Sister Inez. She leaned her body against my own, rubbing the strap cruelly over my bruised and tender flesh. "You have no idea how sin-ridden you are! You have no understanding of such things. You do not know the joy of suffering, yet, but we shall teach you, do not fear!"
I could hardly keep on my feet, now. My body was a mass of welts and ugly red lines and my skin felt on fire with pain. I could hardly focus my thoughts at all, then, and a part of my mind was certain I had been thrust into a mad house by mistake.
Either that, or I feared I was going insane myself. I could not accept that I must endure such savage torture, but the lashing strap caressing my naked buttocks time and time again, was too real to deny.
I quivered with agony, sobbing uncontrollably as she brought that evil tool down on my flesh, now, quite obviously enjoying the screams that tore from my lips with each blow she struck. She cackled with delight, her bosom heaving with excitement as she cracked the vicious instrument hard against my body.
"Repent, girl," she commanded me. "Beg God's forgiveness for your evil heart, plead with him to stay my hand for now! Tell him you want to suffer for your sins!"
I heard these words in a swirl of my own piercing cries and though I did not feel any need to beg our Lord's mercy, I began to scream in the manner she instructed, praying that my obedience might spare me any more pain.
"I am sorry, dear God, I am," I wailed aloud. "Please forgive me, God, please! I need to suffer, I know, let me be cleansed, dear God, let me be cleansed!"
That seemed to satisfy Sister Inez after awhile and she ceased beating me, allowing me to slide down the wall until I was hanging from the tightly wound leather cords that were biting into the flesh of my wrists.
My back felt swollen from neck to knee and the pain that throbbed in my beaten flesh continued to ache in my bones. I felt weak and drained of all strength and my mind was racing with terror at the cruel torture I had just endured.
Sister Inez came around beside me and lifted my head with the leather strap. "You see, girl, how much you have to learn?" she chuckled brutally. "You will to learn to bear your needed suffering with greater dignity if you wish to join our holy order. You must show God you can bear his purifying pain if you are to share in his blessings with us."
With that, she began to untie the cords, allowing me to slump against the wall, moaning and sobbing with the throbbing ache in my flesh. I only wanted to curl up and fall asleep then, so beaten and exhausted did I feel.
But she threw me my shift and kicked me hard in the side, growling at me to get dressed and follow her. Moaning in pain, I tried to move as quickly as I could, terrified of angering her in the slightest, by now.
Quickly she led me back up the narrow, steep stairs leading to the house above and though I could barely move because of the pain I was experiencing, I forced myself not to dawdle as I followed the young girl.
I did not know what to expect, of course. By this time I was so frightened and confused, that I doubted anything could shock me, now. How wrong I was, how very wrong indeed. Even the beating I had taken did not prepare my young eyes for what they were about to view.
Sister Inez led me to a small chamber off the main corridor of the huge house. It was very cramped in there and we both had to stoop over for there was not enough room to stand up in the tiny room.
Sister Inez moved a small metal disk to one side and ordered me to put my eyes to the two tiny peep holes behind the disk.
"Watch closely now, girl," she hissed softly. "You are about to learn what evil is in man's heart. Every man, even a priest!"
I had no idea what she was talking about, of course, but I was too frightened to ask any questions, so I did as she ordered. I bent forward and gazed through the small holes, peering into a large, comfortable sitting room.
Father John was sitting on a small sofa. looking around the room nervously. He was sipping at a tall, clear goblet of wine, taking great gulps from the glass and slurping the wine, noisily.
Suddenly the door opened to the room and his head turned sharply. He gasped as he saw a slim, pretty girl of no older than seventeen step into the room, dressed in the very sheerest of nightgowns, a wide, seductive smile on her lips. She was very beautiful, and I'm sure, very much a temptation to the priest.
She said not a word but crossed the room quickly, and knelt down in front of the priest, resting her attractive head in his lap. "Dear Father," she whispered softly, moving her cheek back and forth across his thighs. "I am here to provide you with rest and comfort after your journey."
I was watching this, my eyes blinking rapidly at what the young girl was doing. It was obvious to me even with my lack of experience in such matters, that what she was doing was something more than merely massaging his tired limbs with her fingers. They were kneading his thighs through his cassock, digging into his legs through the heavy material.
Father John, whom I knew as a saintly man, unstained by any human weakness moaned softly and shuddered as if out of control of himself. I watched in amazement as he did not push the girl away, but rather leaned back against the sofa and shut his eyes tightly as the young girl massaged his legs.
Slowly she rose upward and leaned into his body, pressing her soft, red lips against his own. I almost cried out in shock as I watched the good father not push her away, but eagerly wrap his arms around her slender frame and draw her to him.
"My sweet child," he whispered almost hungrily. "You are so soft and warm, an old man like myself can not stand much of this vibrant youth!"
The girl chuckled warmly, moving her tongue back and forth over Father John's teeth and lips, using the weapon in a devilish fashion as she continued to kiss him sensuously.
I watched frozen in amazement as the pious priest moved his fingers over the girl's back and shoulders, kneading her flesh through the sheerness of the gown. From my angle, I could see her fine, up-turned breasts, the nipples firm and jutting hard against the transparent garment, and I could make out the swell over her buttocks and the darkness of her mound.
Father John's fingers traveled swiftly down over the girl's behind, kneading and squeezing her hungrily, now. His cupped his palms over her buttocks and dug his fingers into the half moons and the girl shuddered and sighed with obvious delight.
Now their tongues met and darted back and forth, entwining hungrily in a kind of kiss I remembered well from my dearest Stephen. I almost moaned myself as I watched the good Father remove one of his hands from the girl's behind and clasp it firmly over one of her soft, jutting breasts.
He fondled the boob gently, pinching the nipple between his thumb and forefinger, rolling it back and forth. The young girl shuddered and sobbed, bucking herself onto his lap, straddling one of his thighs with her own.
She began to rock her groin back and forth against his leg and the old priest gasped with he sensation, jerking spasmodically as his fingers now greedily slipped down to the hem of her nightgown and began to work their way beneath it.
This was almost too much for me to believe. I could see his hand inching its way upward, slowly climbing along her thighs as they gripped and squeezed her flesh in an almost savage manner. The girl shuddered and groaned, spreading her legs over his thigh, dropping one of her own, slender hands to the front of his cassock.
"Ahh, the good Father is eager to please me, also," she whispered in a voice that trembled with excitement. "Oooh, how manly you are beneath your garment, dear Father, I can tell I shall have to do my best to please you!"
I saw her begin to squeeze and knead the thick bulge that was at the center of his garment and the good Father's head jerked back suddenly as her fingers found his growing shaft. He licked his lips nervously as the girl gripped and squeezed his manhood, and he moaned with pleasure, shaking his head from side to side.
"Ahh, my child, that is good," he whispered passionately. "So very nice, dear girl. Yes, more of that! The sisters have taught you well, I can see that!"
I did not understand any of this beyond what I was seeing. I watched in total confusion as Father John's fingers found the apex of the young girl's quivering thighs and began to explore the damp, tangled thatch of hair that covered her pubic mound.
She laughed in delight, shivering a bit as she quickly took hold of the hem of her gown and drew it up and over her head. Her fine, naked body was damp with sweat, and her flesh glimmered in the light of the candles placed around the room.
She slipped one arm around Father John's neck and drew his head to her bosom. Hungrily he slithered his tongue between her two, round breasts and nibbled at the fleshy mounds with his teeth.
The girl giggled in a childish manner and thrust her chest toward his eager mouth, while reaching down with her free hand again and forcing the hem of his cassock up and into his lap, revealing his large, pulsating manhood.
She wrapped her fingers around the tool and Father John nearly leaped up from the sofa in response. He groaned loudly, rocking in spasmodic gestures as the girl gently kneaded her way up and down on his pole.
His mouth attacked her breasts savagely, now. He caught hold of one pert, pink nipple and drew it into his mouth, holding it firm with his teeth while he lashed at it with his tongue.
His free hand was busily exploring her cunt mound, now, slithering the tips of his fingers back and forth along the wet, warm petals of her lips. Her vagina seemed to be dripping fluid of love and the thin coating of film reflected the candle light in a clearly erotic fashion.
"Ahh, already you are on fire for me," Father John chuckled obscenely. "You ache to feel my holy shaft, do you not, my adorable child?"
"Umm, yes Father, please," the young girl gasped as she felt two fingers inching their way beyond her trembling petals. "Ohh, I need your manhood so badly, now!"
Slowly, Father John penetrated her young pit with his two, gnarled fingers. I saw the young girl's buttocks rise as he slipped the two digits into her tunnel, rocking them from left to right as he buried them deep inside of her.
The girl groaned as if in intense pain or pleasure and allowed her body to fall down, burying the fingers to the hilt in her channel. She shuddered as the good Father began to pump the digits in and out of her, each stroke making her jerk violently in response to the rhythmic assault.
Now the young girl's fingers were riding up and down on Father's John's shaft in a frenzied manner. She pinched the thick, knobby head of his meat between her fingers and jerked the huge, growing tool from left to right.
He mashed his face hard against her creamy breasts, kissing and sucking on the two, soft globes with increasing greed. I could almost smell the heat of their passion in the room, and could see their bodies growing damp and slippery with the sweat of their fevered excitement and lust.
His cock was very hard now, quaking so violently, I could see the veins pulsating in the long, thick prong. The feverish blood was obviously racing through his tool and the sounds of aching need escaped his lips constantly, now.
As his fingers drove in and out of the young girl's damp cave, she moaned and shivered, whispering in a quiet, urgent voice. "Ohh, good Father, yes," she gasped in passion. "More of this, good Father, make your humble servant scream with pleasure! Ohh, dear Father, I need you, need you so badly!"
The sound of pleasure that came from them was ringing in my ears as I watched intently, my own young loins beginning to throb with excitement and wanting. I was becoming very stimulated by what I was seeing, and I had all but forgotten that it was Father John in that room, involved in such worldly action.
Hungrily the old priest thundered his fingers in and out of the young girl's dripping passage. His free hand squeezed and kneaded her buttocks savagely, two of his fingers riding swiftly back and forth along the dark cleft between them.
The girl swayed from left to right on his thigh, now, her hands kneading and pumping on his manhood, pulling on it wildly. His face was a mask of tortured ecstasy, now, and his forehead dripping with sweat.
"Ride me, girl, ride my shaft," he groaned savagely, pulling on the girl with his old, gnarled fingers. "Come, my child, give yourself to me, now! I need your warm, tight chamber to relieve myself at once!"
Eagerly the young girl complied with his breathless request. I could see her face lit up with excitement, her eyes almost glassy as she lifted herself up from his thigh and positioned her body over his pulsating tool.
Even though I had watched everything, I nould not believe that the saintly Father John was about to enter this girl in the most natural and human fashion. I watched in pounding excitement as the girl lowered her dripping hillock over his throbbing prong.
Both of them cried out in ecstasy as the thick, almost purple head of his tool made contact with her pink, fluttering cunt lips. He moaned wildly and jerked as she pushed downward, forcing the huge head of his meat to penetrate her young cave.
Father John let out a cry of aching delight and bucked upward, driving more of his shaft into the girl's eager passage. She giggled with delight and slowly sank downward, driving the powerful tool deeper and deeper into her awaiting chamber.
"Ummm, how big and strong it feels, dear Father," she moaned in a sensuous tone of voice. "It feels marvelous inside of me, I love how it quakes so powerfully against my flesh! Take me, Father, take me, now!"
Her last words were but screams of aching need as she ground her cunt down hard on Father John's loins, impaling herself completely on his thick, long weapon. His hands gripped her waist then, and he began to rock his shaft back and forth inside of her, bucking with fierce, savage thrusts.
The girl placed her hands on his shoulders and began to rock back and forth in time with the good Father's thrusting motions. I watched her ass ride up and down against his thighs, and I could see clearly, the way his manhood slithered in and out of her wet, quivering tunnel.
The two of them were locked in a tight embrace of passion now. He was kneading her hips greedily, twisting and turning her on his meat, while she dug her fingers deeply into his shoulders and allowed her face to press tightly against his own.
The two of them were soon locked in a rhythmic swaying action .moaning and jerking as they loins met and parted. They moved faster and faster on the small sofa, sobbing and groaning louder and louder with every spasmodic jerk of their tortured flesh.
"Ohh, dear God, that is good," the old priest moaned, shivering out of control as a violent spasm ripped through him. "Yes, you are wonderful, my dear! So hot and warm and tight! Just what I need!"
"Harder, Father," the young girl gasped, her voice tortured and weak. "Do it harder, Father! Make me scream, good Father, please, make me scream!"
Father John rose up from the sofa and turned their bodies around so that the girl was now lying beneath him. He began to thunder his shaft in and out of her in a harsh, driving manner, slamming her young body hard into the sofa with every savage and powerful stroke that he took.
She threw her legs up around his hips and locked her ankles tightly behind his back. He bent her over almost double, then, and banged into her quaking chamber in harsh, frenzied thrusts.
I could see her body quaking with the power and force of his thundering weapon and her pretty little head tossed left and right on the sofa's cushions. Her hands clutched fiercely at his shoulders and her screams of passion filled the room with the awesome noise of her pleasure.
"Ohh, I am so near, dear Father, so very near," she moaned, thrusting her belly and loins at him hungrily. "Almost time, good Father, ohhh, God, it is almost time!"
I watched Father John slam into her again and again, now, twisting and turning savagely as a climax began to tear through the young girl's inner flesh. She wailed and sobbed involuntarily, thrusting herself at him again and again as the savage release overwhelmed her completely. stimulated by her aching bliss, Father John drove into her even more violently now, thrusting his cock to the depths of her chamber, twisting and turning almost cruelly against her inner walls.
It was clear that he was excited by her climax and he ravaged her loins now with total abandonment. He bucked and shuddered wildly, pumping his meat into her so fast and furiously that his thundering tool was but a blur as he rammed into her.
Suddenly he was groaning loudly, rocking and jerking as if gripped by some illness. He threw back his head and slammed his prong to the very depths of her channel, sobbing as the powerful orgasm tore through him.
"Ohh, God, it is good," he moaned violently, shivering as the pleasure began to consume him. "Ahh, my sweet child, it feels so nice, so very nice indeed!"
The two of them trembled as if touched with a deep chill. Their bodies quaked and shuddered quite out of their control, now, and I could only gaze at them in awe as the delightful spasms of their relief continued to race through them.
After a long time, the girl relaxed and Father John sank down on top of her, still shuddering and groaning with the final spasms of ecstasy that rippled through him. Their breathing was harsh and erratic and the scene, though shocking, seemed quite tranquil and delightful to me.
Suddenly the door leading to the room was thrown back and the two people on the sofa gasped in horror and shock as Sister Agnes stepped into the room, flanked by two burly nuns. "Evil and corruption behind my back," she growled, pointing a finger at the two, scrambling bodies on the sofa. "You have befouled my convent, God's own house! For this you shall surely have to pay!"
The girl was terrified, but Father John looked, if possible, even more frightened. The two nuns pulled him off of the naked child and shoved him to one side. They picked the screaming girl up from the couch and dragged her out of the room.
"Follow me, damned priest," hissed Sister Agnes. "I shall show you what happens to those who practice such evil under my roof!"
Gulping wildly, the old man got up from the sofa and adjusted his cassock, groaning in fear and dread as he followed the commanding nun out of the room.
CHAPTER THREE
I leaned my forehead against the wall and shuddered, totally shocked and drained by what I had seen. The images of the two bodies joining would not leave my mind, and I was deeply ashamed by the throbbing fire that continued to lick at my aching loins.
"Come, girl, you must witness their punishment," hissed Sister Inez. She slammed two, hard fingers into my side and I winced, rising quickly.
She led me down the corridor a little further on and my feet struck the cold bare tile with loud, echoing slaps. I could see the other nuns and novices slipping into a room, their head bowed gravely as they entered the chamber.
Once we arrived, I saw that the sisters were all seated in a semi-circle on benches in front of an altar. Behind the altar rail was a raised platform in front of the marble stone itself and here stood Sister Agnes and Father John, with two nuns holding the naked girl by her arms.
Sister Inez gestured for me to seat myself and I quickly took my place in the front row of the curved benches, wondering what would happen next, dreading it more than I could understand.
Sister Agnes' face was grim. Her hands were formed into fists held tightly to her sides as she watched us settling down on the benches in front of her. Her eyes swept the room, angrily and I could hear the heavy sound of her breathing and see her large chest rising and falling with her fevered emotions.
"Our house has been defiled," she growled at the assembled women and girls. "Our pure, holy home has been befouled by sin and lust!"
She turned and glared at Father John, pointing a long, thick finger at him. "This priest has been seduced and corrupted by this demon in girlish form," she hissed, turning the finger to the young girl held by the nuns.
"Ohh, Sister, please, please," sobbed the young girl, shaking her head urgently. "Satan took hold of my heart, I swear! I did not know what I was doing!"
Sister Agnes chuckled cruelly and pinched one of the girl's nipples between her fingers in a harsh, brutal fashion. "You are lying, slut," she hissed coldly. "You are speaking with a child's voice, but Satan has your tongue!"
Father John was trembling visibly now, terrified for himself and all that he had worked and cultivated through the years. I could see that he was experiencing a total terror, now, for I could tell that he was wondering what would happen to him, should this event become known beyond these dark, strong walls.
"My dear Sister," he whispered in a quivering, weak voice. "I ... I do not know what to say. This is all so confusing to me! It is like a dream, the wine must have affected my mind!"
Sister Agnes continued to pinch and tweak the young girl's nipple. "Well, Sister Joan, you have fallen under the spell of pleasure, haven't you?"
The young girl groaned thickly and nodded. "Yes, ohh God, dear Sister, I have," she muttered. "Help me get free, dear Sister, please, please, help me to free myself from the devil's embrace!"
Sister Agnes turned to the quivering priest. "And you, Father, how do you feel, having so damned yourself with this demon's flesh?" she hissed at him. "Are you ready to seek forgiveness, to reject the temptation of the body, to wash yourself clean of the evilness of pleasure?"
The old priest nodded sharply, his eyes wide with fear and a growing hope that he might somehow redeem himself before it was too late. I could see the devious thoughts racing through him as he glanced quickly between the helpless girl and the big, commanding nun.
"Yes, dear Sister," he whispered excitedly. "I need to purge my soul, need to wash my flesh clean of it's taintedness. Yes, I am ready for salvation!"
The older nun looked pleased and excited. Her body shook slightly with the fierceness of her words as she gazed back at the young girl now, her eyes blazing with growing fever and passion, it seemed.
"Sister, you have indulged in the wickedness and delights of bodily pleasure," she said, evenly. "Your flesh has succumbed to the temptations of ecstasy that your body can experience."
She moved over and stood in front of the young girl now, grinning almost in an animal like snarl, her lips drawn back over her teeth. She reached out and lifted the girl's bowed head by the chin.
"You know there is only one way to cleanse your flesh of such foul and disgusting sensations, do you not?" she growled coldly.
The young girl blinked rapidly and I could see fear spreading across her face as she nodded in a frightened manner. "Yes, Sister, I ... I understand," she moaned.
The Sister smiled viciously. She turned to Father John. "There is only one way to erase the damage done," she hissed. "Your flesh and hers are submerged in the ecstasy of pleasure! Only the agony of pain will free you, now!"
The young girl gasped, jerking as if struck by a blow when she heard the words. Father John's face was drained of color, and he licked his lips nervously as he slowly nodded his head in agreement.
"Yes, I understand, Sister," he whispered brokenly. "I know too that pain is the only cure for our devilment!"
Sister Agnes nodded grimly. She glared at the two nuns holding Sister Joan and barked in a cold voice. "To the altar, with her, then," she said fiercely. "We shall begin her cleansing at once!"
The young girl screamed in fear, but did not attempt to escape. She seemed torn between the terror of what was going to happen to her, and an aching desire to have her flesh purged of all sin.
I sat rigid on the bench, my eyes blinking rapidly as I watched them bind the girl to the altar with thick strands of rope. They pulled her slim, graceful arms far apart and secured her wrists to two golden candle holders on either end of the top of the alter. When they finished with that, they bound her ankles, spreading her legs in the same manner, to the heavy, marble legs of the alter.
She was now quite tightly bound, almost unable to move at all, her body curved against the edge of the alter, rivers of sweat running from her flesh, now. She turned her head to watch what was happening behind her, her pretty eyes wide with fear and anticipation of what was to come.
"The blessed whip," hissed Sister Agnes. One of the big, strong nuns that had tied Sister Joan to the altar quickly stepped off to one side and removed a short-handled, multi-stranded whip from a special rack above the pulpit.
It was an ornate tool, the strands of the whip made of finely spun golden wire, rather than mere leather, and the light of the candles danced and reflected off the almost lovely instrument as the nun brought it to the sister.
The handle was gold, also, and deep inlays of some sort of scenes had been carved into the metal, but I was too far away to see what the scenes represented. The nun handed the whip to Sister Agnes and the older nun nodded gravely.
"This is the tool we use to punish those that do evil in this house," she said to Father John. She lifted the whip with both hands for his inspection. "As you can see, its function is outlined by what is meant to cure, here in the handle itself!"
Now, as I strained forward, I could see that the scenes depicted on the whip were those of a sexual nature. I could not tear my eyes away from the now evil looking tool, for it somehow thrilled me in it's awesome and dreadful quality.
Father John gulped once more, blinking his eyes as fear began to rage inside of his own, trembling body. The whip looked fierce and dangerous and I am certain he was wondering what his role in this affair of punishment would be.
"Take the blessed whip," hissed Sister Agnes cruelly. "Take it into your hands, let its powers and use fill your soul, Father! Become one with it so that you may do your duty well when you are called upon to serve!"
Gingerly, the old priest took the whip from the woman's hands. He gasped as his fingers clutched the warm metal and the weight of the instrument fell against his hands. He held the whip out at arms length, flexing his fingers around the golden handle to get a firm and comfortable grip.
"Since this demon-possessed child seduced you," Sister Agnes explained softly. "It is up to you to cleanse both of your flesh by being God's instrument in this purging. You shall have to strike the blows. Father, I can not."
She turned to the rest of us and swept her eyes over the trembling nuns. "He has been tainted, thus, in accordance with my rules, he must be the one to free himself and Sister Joan."
She turned back to Father John and whispered in his ear just loud enough for the rest of us to hear. "These are troubled times, father, much sin abounds," she cooed in a strangely loving voice. "Even our Pope is rumored to be less than holy, these days. New measures are called for, this is but one of them."
Father John glanced at her sharply and I could see his eyes going wide with horror and shock at her blasphemy. To hear a nun declare that the Pope was less than godly in every way was more than a shock to me, but to him, must have been horrifying.
I waited for his indignant refusal to agree to such a thought, but he merely gazed deeply into the old nun's eyes, both of them locked in a fierce glaring contest of wills it seemed.
Sister Agnes's fingers curled around his own and she slowly turned his body toward the helpless, moaning girl at the altar. I could see Father John trembling violently now, as Sister Agnes pulled him toward the girl.
"Cleanse her, Father, cleanse this poor, damned child," the woman said in an almost melodic tone of voice. "Use God's instrument of punishment and free her from the corruption the devil has placed about her flesh and yours also! Do it now, Father, do it now before it is too late!"
I do not know what Father John could have been thinking at that moment, but years of reflection coupled with my more worldly knowledge lead me to suspect he was attempting to see his way out of this. He had to do something, he knew, and to protect himself, I believe he decided to go along with Sister Agnes's demented demands.
"Prepare yourself, child," he hissed at the young girl in front of him. He pushed Sister Agnes away from him and positioned himself behind the girl. "Prepare for the punishment of your sins, wicked young girl!"
Sister Agnes's eyes were on fire with excitement now. She was nodding absently, rubbing her palms together in anticipation. "Yes, yes," she said in a monotone, and almost breathless voice. "Let the pain surround you, Sister Joan, let it eat into all the horrid pleasure you have felt and melt it away with the beauty of agony!"
The girl sobbed and nodded in fear and excitement. "Ohh, God, help me, now," she groaned, loudly, tensing her body for the first blow. "God, help me to lose myself, help me to discover the joy of suffering for my sins! Now, good Father, purge my flesh, now, I beg of you! Now!"
Father John sucked in a breath and whirled the golden whip around his head. The strands caught the light and beamed them back at the room in a swirl of dazzling colors. He brought the multi-stranded tool down hard on the young girl's shoulders and the thin, wiry strips cracked against her flesh with a loud, vicious smack.
She screamed in agony and shuddered as the blow bore into her flesh. Her head was thrown back in pain and she gasped as Father John whirled the whip around his head again and brought it hard against the curve of her pert, quivering buttocks.
Once more she screamed, her body jerking violently under the cruel, vicious blow. Her bottom was streaked with the wake of the thin, cutting strands, leaving bright, red stripes behind, that crissed and crossed the creamy whiteness of her firm, pert half moons.
The whip crashed into the small of her back and whirled around her hips with a sickening crack. When he pulled it back from her flesh with a savage tug of his hand, I could see the flesh opening in narrow, deep wounds from which blood began to flow almost immediately.
"Suffer, sinful child," growled Sister Agnes. "The pain is your redemption, the pain is your salvation! Greet the pain as you would the Lord, for it is his gift to you, his offering of grace!"
She was beginning to chant now as the blows landed and Father John cleverly began to time his strikes to match with her rhythmic voice. He lashed the girl again and then another time, putting more force in the blows, opening up dozens of minor wounds across the length and breadth of her slender frame.
Sister Agnes began to sprinkle some potion over the girl's bleeding wounds and she screamed in agony, as the obviously painful mixture that I later found out was vinegar, oil and salt flowed into her wounds.
Again Father John cracked the golden whip against her back. Her whole body jerked spasmodically and she sobbed as she struggled to speak. "The pain is my salvation," she gasped. "Let it take my sins away, let it consume me with its fiery agony!"
"Take the pain to your heart, forget all but the agony you are enduring," Sister Agnes whispered. "Let your body burn for God's love, let the savage hurt consume you completely and wash away your sins!"
Now the whole room of nuns began to echo Sister Agnes's words. I mouthed along, unable to believe what I was seeing and hearing. My eyes were locked on the torn and bleeding body of the girl, unable to tear them away as Father John struck her relentlessly with the wicked, gleaming whip.
The blows began to fall with a frightening regularity. Father John seemed to have no trouble responding to what was happening, and in moments he too was repeating Sister Agnes's words, eager it appeared to become part of this event in more than a reluctant fashion.
"How is the pain, has it taken you yet?" Sister Agnes growled at the sobbing girl. "Are your one with your agony, my child?"
The girl gasped thickly and to my surprise, shook her head. I would have expected her to be pleading for mercy, by now, begging Father John and Sister Agnes for forgiveness, and pleading with them to cease her agony.
But instead she wailed loudly in the negative. "No, no, not yet," she gasped. "I need more, good Father, dear Sister," she sobbed. "More pain, give me more! I need to be consumed by my agony! Harder, please, harder!"
That I was shocked beyond all understanding was an understatement. I watched in frozen horror as she arched her spine eagerly to receive even more of the vicious and cruel punishment.
Father John seemed to grow frenzied now as he rained the blows down on her already torn and bleeding body. He lashed at her with more cruelty than I had ever seen in my life. My own back still ached from the punishment I had taken, but it was nothing compared to the violence I was witnessing now.
"Pain redeems us, pain brings us near to our Master," droned Sister Agnes in a thick, passionate voice. "All pain is good, all is the gift of God, all should suffer gladly for his love!"
The crowd repeated her phrases and I did so, too, terrified of offending any of them by not speaking. The nuns and novices around me seemed mesmerized by what they were watching, but unlike myself, none of their eyes betrayed a sense of horror, but rather almost a lust and excitement with the event. I almost felt as if each of them were envying the girl the position she was in.
On and on went the beating. The floor at the girl's feet was spattered with her blood and Father John's fingers were wet with the dripping blood from the strands of the golden whip.
He lashed at her viciously now, his breathing harsh and erratic as he cracked the gleaming tool into her repeatedly. "I can feel the bliss coming over me," his hissed breathlessly. "I can feel my redemption washing through, Sister, yes!"
He seemed to be almost laughing now as he brought the vicious weapon down upon the helpless girl. She too was emitting sounds of deep and aching enjoyment and I began to realize that her cries and moans were not unlike the very sounds she made when in the midst of sexual passion with him earlier.
"Ohh, God, I am full of your love," she sobbed, now, twisting and turning her slender body to meet the blows. "I am consumed by your gift of agony! Yes, dear God, yes! The pain is wonderful, the pain is all I ask!"
"Now you are there, now you are part of God's love," chanted Sister Agnes. "Now your are near to being blessed! Now you are almost cleansed, child! Scream, scream your ecstasy loud! Let the ears of our Lord hear your wails of confession!"
The room was thick with the scent of blood and unmistakable passion now. All of us rose to our feet and began to sway, echoing Sister Agnes' words. The blows fell like golden drops of rain, the blood flashing in the air like a fine, red mist.
"We are one with God, one with the Master," Sister Agnes wailed, sprinkling the stinging water into the girl's wounds. "We are all damned but redeemed through our suffering! Suffering is best, suffering is best, suffering is best!"
How long this strange and frightening ritual continued I can not remember. Even I was caught up in it now, hypnotized by all that I was watching. The blows continued to fall, the girl shuddering and moaning under them, now so beaten and drained of energy that she could not speak.
Her back was a ruin of wounds from the tip of her neck to the curve of her knees. She hung limply from the ropes that bound her to the altar and her wounds dripped blood continuously, now, almost completely covering her once alabaster flesh.
Finally Sister Agnes caught Father John's swinging arm and held it fast. He gazed at her with fiery eyes, obviously so caught up in his evil attack that he did not wish to cease striking the girl.
"She is finished," Sister Agnes whispered coldly. "The mercy of our Lord is complete, he has accepted her into his bosom."
Father John, coming to his senses, blinked at the words and then turned his eyes to the limp, torn figure of the girl, now hanging heavily from the altar. Her body was still and it was evident that she was no longer breathing.
"Oh my God," he moaned, beginning to tremble violently. He shook his head, as if denying what he was seeing then turned his frightened eyes to Sister Agnes.
"What ... what have I done?" he hissed in terror. "What have you made me do?"
She smiled coldly. "You have given the Lord one of his servants," she replied in a simple manner. "Perhaps a little sooner than He had expected, but that is no matter. He will embrace her, now that you have cleansed her soul!"
Father John moaned and shook uncontrollably now. His face went from bright red to a pale white and he whimpered almost soundlessly. He stared at the whip in his hand then dropped it to the floor, as if it had suddenly become a white hot iron burning the fingers that held it.
"Noooo," he shrieked, backing away to the far end of the altar, shaking his head violently. "I ... I can't ... I can't! I can't have done it, I can't!"
He closed his eyes then opened them again, but of course his living nightmare would not depart. I heard a gurgling in his throat then saw his eyes roll up in his head and watched him collapse as he fainted in shock and horror.
"Take him to my office," Sister Agnes hissed at the two burly nuns. She turned her head and allowed her gaze to rest upon my frightened features. "Bring the new novice along in a bit," she told Sister Joan. "She may as well learn quickly what we are doing here and what is expected of her."
With that she left the room, followed by the two burly nuns carrying the limp body of Father John between them. After a few minutes, Sister John poked me in the ribs and ordered me to rise.
"Come, you shall meet the good Sister, now," she hissed at me. "And pay close attention to all you see and hear, girl. There is much to learn about our ways!"
Of course I was totally confused and horrified by now. I had watched the savage beating to death of a young girl no older than myself and I still could hardly believe what I had witnessed. I felt, in many ways, as if I were going mad, as if all the terrible nightmares I could have were coming true, though of course, I did and said nothing about my fears whatsoever.
In a small chamber off of the Sister's office, I was told to sit by and observe what went on in the other room, through yet another peep hole. Seated at her massive, oak desk was Sister Agnes, across from her, gulping brandy now, Father John.
"Have no fear, Father," Sister Agnes said gently. "You shall not have to worry about what has happened. It was, after all, God's will that she be taken so soon."
"But ... but I have killed her," muttered the priest, so clearly shaken by what he had done, that he could barely speak. "Oh, mercy on me, Lord, I did not know what I was doing! Mercy on me, please!"
"Hush now, old man," Sister Agnes hissed warningly. "God listens to strong servants, not whimpering cowards! You and I can help each other greatly, and thereby serve our perfect Master!"
"How, how can I help you?" growled Father John, glaring at her intently. "How can I ever be of service to you and your evil ways!"
"Silence, priest," barked Sister Agnes, slamming her palm down hard on the top of her desk. "I am trying to save our church from damnation! Such methods are only correct in times as troubled as these! The Pope sits in Rome, debauched and uncaring of his children, it is up to me to fill the gap!"
"You are mad," Father John whispered. "You can not subvert the Pope, it is against the laws of God! You blaspheme, woman!"
"I know what must be done!" shouted Sister Agnes. "The world is full of sin and only the relief of suffering and agony can cleanse it! We are all so steeped in sin, that only cruel agony will relieve us of the torment of pleasure!"
"What do you wish of me?" Father John said, quietly. "What bargain are you striking, Sister, what tasks should I perform?"
Sister Agnes smiled thinly. "We must build an army to save this world and overcome sin where we find it. Plague and famine sweep the land, redemption through suffering is our only salvation. I need more members for my convent." Father John laughed and shook his head. "You think I will aid you in this?" he muttered sourly. "You must be mad! You think I would bring more girls to this place? I intend to take poor Adele home with me at once!"
"What would your parish have to say, should they learn of what has happened here, Father," Sister Agnes said, slyly. "A priest that whipped a girl to death? I do not think they are intelligent enough to understand the great salvation as yet, do you?"
Father John shrank visibly into the big chair he was sitting upon. He was trembling with naked fear now, and even I at that tender age, could see that he was terrified of Sister Agnes and what stories she might tell.
Should his flock hear of what he had done, they would tear him limb from limb, I knew. He would be killed at once in the most painful manner possible. It was obvious that he had no other choice but to aid her.
He nodded slowly and with great weariness, drew himself to his feet. "I must be going," he said, meekly. "My flock needs me at home."
"We shall be in contact, Father," Sister Agnes whispered knowingly. "And if ever you should feel the need for the cleansing effects we produce here, please feel free to seek my help. Our door is always open to those who serve the Lord!"
Once the broken old man left the room, Sister Joan shoved me inside and forced me to my knees in front of Sister Agnes's desk. I dared not look into her eyes, so I kept my own, fastened on the rug that covered her cold, stone floor.
"Ann, yes," she chuckled happily, rising from her desk and coming around in front of it to get a better look at me. "Our new novice!
Stand up, child, let me see how you look!"
Trembling in fear, I did as she ordered. I gulped as she walked slowly around me, then lifted my arms above my head and quickly drew my coarse shift over them, revealing my body to her interested eyes.
"Umm, this little flower should bud into something exquisite," she chuckled softly. "I believe she will truly be a magnificent young woman in a few years!"
I stood there, aching to cover my nakedness with my arms, but knowing that I did not dare move a muscle without permission. Slowly Sister Agnes continued her inspection, nodding and muttering to herself.
"The Lord provides us with many tools," she said at last, leaning against her desk, smiling at me coldly. "A beautiful nun is worth many converts if handled correctly!"
She was smiling at me so deeply, so powerfully, that I could barely breathe. The power that came off of her was truly overwhelming and I was frozen in place, hardly able to draw a bit of air into my burning lungs.
, "You shall become one of us, child," Sister Agnes whispered gently. "You shall learn our ways and the wisdom of my teachings and aid me greatly in my pursuit of souls. God has delivered you to me for that purpose."
"What do you wish me to do, Sister?" I finally found the courage to ask. My voice was weak and high pitched and I trembled violently now, from a mixture of fear and embarrassment at being so exposed.
"In good time, my dear, in good time," she chuckled darkly. "You have much to learn while you are with us! There are many secrets to be revealed to you, who knows, perhaps you shall become the best of my tools, only time and God can know that!"
With that she dismissed me and Sister Joan led me back down the corridor and into the cellar below the huge house once more. Night was falling swiftly and I was growing cold and weary but I did not dare ask to rest.
"You are lucky, girl," Sister Joan said, as she made to close the door on my cell. "It is rare to find such favor with Sister Agnes so soon. I would suggest you dwell upon that fact and consider your good fortune."
"Please, I ... I am hungry," I said, taking a bold step forward. I touched her by the hand and blinked through the tears welling up in my eyes. "I have not eaten in quite some time, Sister! May I have a meal, now?"
Savagely she slapped me across the face with the back of her hand, knocking me into the small pallet used as a bed. I sat down heavily as the sister glared at me with almost hatred in her eyes.
"You shall have nourishment when you have earned it, novice," she hissed at me.
I struggled to my feet, terror racing through me, now. "Please, Sister, I am so afraid! Help me, I beg you, now!"
She chuckled coldly. "Only God can help you now, worthless one," she laughed, then added: "He and his servant, Sister Agnes."
Then she turned and slammed the door on me, locking me in the damp, cold darkness of the cell, leaving me with only my hopeless terrors for company and thought.
CHAPTER FOUR
How can I clearly explain those first two years at the convent? Mere description would not do justice to all that I saw and experienced. I could fill volumes with those first years alone. A dozen manuscripts could be produced dealing with just a portion of the evil that I witnessed.
But I can not go on and on about this or that, there is no' time and not enough paper in the world for me to set down all that I felt, heard and what is more, did. It will be enough to tell you I experienced horror and evil in its basest forms, and then provide a few examples.
What I wish to talk about, was my own conversion to the ways of Saxony. This took time, as you can well imagine, for in the beginning, I rejected everything that I saw and was taught to me by the nuns.
I was no fool, of course, I did my best to avoid their wrath whenever possible. I saw no sense in having my flesh ripped asunder, so I carefully cultivated their good graces and did everything as I was told without complaint.
Of course, such escape from pain and punishment was impossible for very long. The nature of the convent, and Sister Agnes' beliefs precluded that. I could only hope to put off any agony for as long as possible, avoiding it completely was out of the question.
In the first months, I saw things I had not imagined could take place. Daily punishment was given for the slightest infraction of the rules, and the more serious the offense, the worse the discipline became.
Whippings were common and I received my fair share of them, in spite of all my attempts to do my tasks perfectly. Sister Joan was to tutor me in my novice training and she would not hesitate to pick up her strap if I made the slightest mistake.
But worse things than that happened behind those cold, impassive walls. Flesh was seared by hot irons, limbs broken and torn, blades applied to helpless bodies inflicting agony beyond belief.
What was curious was the way the nuns seemed to eagerly look forward to the torture of others, and what is more, even themselves. Sometimes it appeared that they would make mistakes, break rules for the purpose of suffering itself.
It was strange and terrifying for me to see nuns so breathlessly awaiting the fall of the lash or the burning of an iron. Many times I observed such punishment and ritual and always without total belief that me eyes were truly gazing upon something that was actually taking place before them.
I saw many priests tricked by the Sister in the same manner as Father John. It was not natural for them to die because of the beating afterwards of course, the other poor girl's had been a special case.
The young novices would eagerly approach the task of seducing the priest, Sister Agnes explaining such sin away as necessary. To her, though the joys of the flesh were foul and tainted, they had to be used to further her cause, and in any case, the sin was washed away by the savage agonies that followed.
I myself was not used in such a manner. Sister Agnes wanted to keep me pure, she told me, for I was a precious flower in her eyes, and thus could not be sacrificed, even in recruitment of priests to her schemes.
It was two years before the fateful day when I feel into the evil clutches of the convent and gave my soul over to damnation, though of course, at the time, I believed it to be the other way around.
My loins had grown no less fevered with the passage of the years. A nun taught me, in secret of course, some of the many ways one could pleasure herself and I discovered the tiny button above my pit and attacked it with a vengence whenever possible.
Some how, though, it was not enough, and when the young man that tended the garden happened to fall in with me one summer afternoon, it was inevitable that we should join in that glorious and strange passion that need not strip a woman of her purity and the symbol of her chastity.
I had wanted to be alone with him for quite some time. His name was Karl and his young body a taut series of muscles and lean, hard-packed flesh. I dreamed of the pleasures he might give to me, and I grew determined to have them more with each passing day. When the rain forced us into a cave, during our walk, I knew my time had come, for I could tell he was eager himself.
We had gone to pick flowers for the desks of the sisters that were in charge of the convent and he of course, knew all the best places to look. I am certain that he wanted me, but never dreamed of it, considering I was a novice and thus untouchable to his peasant mind.
The cave was dark and comfortable, actually quite nice inside. A few blankets had been left by others and we arranged them in a suitable fashion so that our wait would not be too unbearable.
He was seated next to me, and I could feel the tension coming off him as we gazed out into the downpour. "It is quite a storm," I said, trying to sound casual.
"Yes, it may last for quiet some time," he agreed. He cleared his throat and smiled at me. "Do not worry, Sister, you are safe with me."
I took one of his big, thick-fingered hands in my own and nodded gravely. "Yes, I feel that, Karl," I said calmly. "I feel as if you would protect me from anything! You are so big and strong and manly."
He chuckled anxiously and I could hear his breathing getting more rapid and forced as I lifted his hand to my cheek and rubbed the torn and scarred knuckles against my flesh. I turned my face to the back of his hand, then and kissed each finger gently, rolling my tongue over them wickedly.
The young man shivered, a soft, tortured groan coming from his lips as he began to grow more excited by my actions. I knew he did not know what to make of this and I had to fight to keep from giggling at his discomfort.
"Do you find this disturbing, Karl?" I whispered, licking and sucking on his fingers, now. "Am I upsetting you?"
He gulped with great difficulty, shaking his head in obvious concern. "Ahh, now, of course not, Sister," he said, his voice quaking nervously. "I ... I just don't understand what you are doing. What do you want of me. Sister Adele?"
Slowly I pulled his head over to mine, pursing my lips in anticipation. I felt his cruel, sensual mouth crushing over mine and I moaned in hunger as I kissed him.
"I want your love, Karl," I groaned thickly, slicing my tongue between his teeth and lashing it wildly at his own. "I want to feel your manhood inside of me!"
The young man was so shocked that his only impulse was to flee. He tried to twist his way out of my grip, but my arm around his neck was insistent and my tongue and lips too impassioned for him to deny for very long.
Gradually he began to cease struggling and when I dropped my free "hand into his lap and felt for his manhood through his clothing, he groaned in pleasure and jerked in an uncontrollable spasm of delight.
I felt his shaft growing thick beneath the clothing and I eagerly fastened my fingers around the expanding rod. He moaned again, shivering violently as I began to knead the prong to life, tugging and pulling on it urgently.
I was wearing a long, dark garment, the folds of which were secured by a clean, white sash. I felt him tugging on it fiercely and I laughed gaily as he pulled it free, allowing my garment to part.
He gasped in shock as he saw I wore nothing beneath it. My breasts had grown fuller by this time, and my thighs had curved and tapered to their perfection. My heavy globes rode quite proudly on my rib cage and my nipples were already pink and erect, full of the passion I was feeling.
I watched his eyes wandering over my body, eagerly drinking in the view he had. My womanly mound was now covered with soft, silken hair and he sighed hungrily as he gazed at the quivering hillock of my loins.
"Touch me wherever you wish," I whispered anxiously, moving my lips in a greedy fashion over his own. "God wishes you to have me, Karl, that is why he has provided us with the opportunity to enjoy each other! Touch me, touch me, now!"
His trembling hands reached out, one of the strong, manly fists opening and cupping over my breasts, while the other wormed its way down over my belly and between my thighs, clasping hard over my quaking pit.
I almost screamed in delight as he made contact with my fevered flesh. It had been over two years since a man had touched me in this way and I yearned to feel every powerful sensation I had back then.
I was now a ripe young girl of sixteen, eager to enjoy every bit of love I could. I had learned many things from the other nuns, secrets gleaned from forbidden books in Sister Agnes's library. I knew there were many forms of love that one could practice, and I was eager to try them all, save the most obvious one.
I felt his hands beginning to caress me then, squeezing and massaging my breasts, slithering back and forth along the lips that guarded my virginal passage. I groaned with the tingling pleasure of his touch and shuddered, mashing my mouth against his once more in a savage and hungry kiss.
I felt him pinching one of my nipples between his thumb and forefinger. I squeaked in delight as he pulled on the thick, hard stone, and rolled it about with the calloused palm of his hand. Waves of trembling delight were rippling through me then and my lungs burned with the effort of breathing.
"Yes, dear Karl, ohh, yes," I sighed contentedly. "Now you are learning, now you know! Ummm, that feels good, my darling, so very good!"
Lovingly, he explored my hot, warm pit with two of his fingers. He gently rubbed them up and down between my lips, parting the thick, swollen petals and forcing the thick, sticky fluid to flow from within my quivering chamber.
I gasped thickly as I felt the digits penetrating my loins, driving into the moist, warm tunnel of my chaste pit. I eagerly kneaded the invading digits with my muscles, urging them to bury themselves as far as they could go in my damp pit.
When he reached the thin membrane of flesh that kept me virginal, he gasped in shock and began to remove the fingers from my burning chamber. I clasped my thighs together and squeezed his young shaft tightly in my grip.
"Now, darling Karl," I whispered urgently. "Please, do not be afraid," I said. "Please, I want them there, I want all of you this day! Trust me, Karl, I know what I am doing! This rain shall be the music to our love!'"
Karl groaned as I increased my massaging of his tool and began to pull on the piece of string that held his pants closed. I unraveled it quickly and his young, hard weapon leaped from the confinement of his pants and slapped against the palm of my eager hand with a delightful smack.
I laughed in approval and wrapped my fingers around the tool, squeezing it tightly in my grasp, thrilling to the way the blood tore through his prong so violently.
"Ohh, Sister Adele," he moaned in a thick, almost tortured sounding voice. "I am on fire with lust, I burn with desire! Help me, Sister, please!"
His hand was kneading my breast hungrily now and I forced his head down to my chest, leaning back and offering my big, quivering mounds to his mouth. Greedily he began to kiss and suck at my globes, lashing at them frantically with his tongue.
"That's it, dearest Karl, that's it," I said breathlessly. "Ummm, that feels so nice! Kiss them, suck them, please! Now, move your fingers inside of me, now!"
I felt him begin to pump the thick, strong fingers in and out of my hot, taut passage with an almost savage violence. He was shuddering spasmodically himself, his manhood pounding fiercely in my hand, the hot, boiling blood tearing through it now, with an unbelievable force.
I moved my palm and fingers swiftly up and down on the rod, pulling and tugging on it with increasing abandon. I thrilled to the sensation of his fiery passion pounding against my fingers, and I pinched the thick, knobby head of his tool wickedly between them, loving the way he gasped and cried out in agonized delight.
"Ohh, God, Sister, God," he moaned, jerking spasmodically under my kneading hand. "More of that, Sister, do more of that to me, please!"
Faster and faster I drove my hand at his flesh. His rod seemed to be swelling to more than twice its normal size and I could feel his flesh filling with the passionate blood that raced through him.
I cupped the heavy sack that contained his stones in my free hand and rolled them playfully over my fingers. He cried out in tortured pleasure, bucking against me wildly, sucking on my breasts with a savage hunger now.
He caught one of my nipples between his teeth and drew it into his mouth, while he lashed at it with his tongue. I sobbed as the violent tremors of wanting burned from my breasts to my loins and my eager desire began to race out of control.
His fingers rolled and turned in my tight, narrow canal. I felt them plunging deep, slamming hard into my maidenhead and the shock waves of bliss were so overpowering inside of me now, that I could feel my resolve to remain pure slipping away from me.
He pumped and turned them frantically in my pit, spreading my inner chamber apart, preparing it, obviously, for the assault of his powerful manhood that quaked so wonderfully in my hand. I could feel his balls churning in his sack and the fluid of his passion reaching a point of boiling in his flesh.
He pushed me backward on the blankets and desperately tried to arrange himself between my legs. I held firm to his manhood, however and shook my head determinedly.
"I shall show you another way, dear Karl," I whispered anxiously. "I shall show you how to be deep inside of me, without taking my purity at all!"
I pulled him down to a reclining position and moved my body around and over his. My head was poised above his manhood now, and the gentle curve of my bottom near his own trembling head.
"Use your fingers, dear Karl," I urged him almost breathlessly. "Explore my ass, find its rich, warm secret channel! Now, Karl, invade me, now!"
As I lowered my head to his tool, I felt his strong, thick fingers reaching up to ride tenderly along the cleft between my buttocks. I gasped as I felt two of the rough digits slicing between my firm, ripe cheeks and tap hesitantly at the taut, pink dot of my anal opening.
I gasped in pleasure at the first contact, my rectal muscles relaxing at once as I prepared for the probing finger's invasion. I felt him rub the tip of one digit briskly back and forth against my quivering little opening, attempting to slip it into my tight, warm pit.
My lips ran along the length of his manhood now, for I wished to keep his passion at a fevered pitch while he loosened and prepared my behind for his shaft. I nibbled at the taut, hot pole, hungrily, lathering every inch of the rod with the tip of my tongue.
"Ohh, God, Sister," Karl groaned, jerking violently as I moved my lips over the dank, warm sack that contained his balls. "Jesus, dear Lord that is good! Ahhh, yes Sister, do that, do that some more!"
I was almost laughing now, at the passion in his voice. It was strained and taut, breaking on everyother word as I opened my mouth as Stephen had taught me so long ago, and gathered his balls inside with my tongue.
He screamed softly as I clasped my lips and teeth around his stones and flicked them back and forth against my inner cheeks. I sucked hungrily on the imprisoned bag, loving the sensation of his semen churning within the trapped container.
Now his probing digit grew more bold and insistent. I gasped with a stinging pain as he pressed one fingers hard against my ass, forcing it inside of my wet, warm passage. I shuddered as the digit sank deep into my anal canal, twisting and turning as the young man buried it to the hilt in my quaking channel.
Now, I moved my mouth back up along the length of his throbbing tool, kissing and sucking on his flesh with increasing frenzy. I hooked my lower teeth around the rim of his helmet and pulled the fat, engorged head of his meat hungrily into my mouth. He gasped with intense delight and sobbed loudly as I swiftly drew the length of his prong into my throat.
I buried the shaft to the root in my tight, gripping passage and I could not keep from moaning as he began to rhythmically pump his finger in and out of my tiny ass. Each stroke forced my anal tunnel to widen and in moments the single finger was joined by another in my expanding passage.
The pain was fierce, but strangely, not unpleasing. I had never felt anything quite like it before. It was as if the pain itself could be a source of pleasure and far from wanting to escape it, I eagerly looked forward to it increasing in intensity.
Harder and faster he drove the fingers at me. Each lovely thrust of them filled my anal tube with a shimmering, stinging agony that seemed to race through my flesh and consume me with a lovely, painful power.
I thrust my buttocks against his hands, feeling his fingers kneading them greedily, while I began to bob my head up and down on his manhood, licking and slashing at the tool with my eager tongue and teeth.
I held fast to the huge head of his meat, lathering it with the tip of my dart, sucking on the trapped knob with all the power I could gather. I was holding his balls tightly in my fist, of course, and I could feel his passion growing hotter and hotter as I worked on his tool, even as my own lust was taking control of me, now.
I lifted my head from his prong and moaned aloud. "Put two fingers in my pit, dear Karl," I begged him violently. "In my womanly chamber, put two fingers! Rub them together, Karl, do it now, please, now!"
Eagerly the young man responded to my request. He slipped two fingers of his free hand into my hot, tight chamber and instantly the savage and consuming greed took hold of me. I screamed wildly as I felt him rubbing the fingers together through the thin membrane of flesh that separated them, sending wave upon powerful wave of aching need tearing through me, then.
The cave began to smell of our passion, thick dank clouds of lust swirling about our heads. Harder and faster he drove the fingers into me, and I pumped my own mouth savagely along his manhood, sucking in a frenzy as I continued to bury and withdraw it in the depths of my eager throat.
I knew that both of us were nearing that moment of blissful explosion and I was desperate to feel his huge prong inside of me, now. I lifted my head from his shaft and quickly moved my body around so that he could lean over me.
"Now, Karl," I moaned hungrily. "Put your rod into me, now! I need your manhood, you must give it to me at once. Fuck me, Karl, do it now!"
The young man seemed beside himself with feverish lust. He groaned and sobbed as he positioned himself behind me, and I felt the thrilling excitement of his manhood quaking back and forth between my thighs, slapping at my flesh with a violent greed.
"Ohh, God, Sister, here I come," he moaned in a tortured, whispery voice. "I'm going to come inside you now, Sister, put my prick inside you, now!"
Ahh, how can I ever tell you what it felt like when he pulled my quaking buttocks apart and slipped his huge, powerful weapon between them? How could I ever hope to begin to explain the savage pleasure of that invasion?
He pressed the huge, fat and burning knob against my anal opening and the sheer heat burning in his tool seared my flesh deliciously. I screamed in angry need and thrust backward against him, forcing him to drive his tool suddenly into me.
The first shock of his penetration seared me deeply. I screamed in a mixture of pain and pleasure as his tool invaded my aching pit and drove deep into my hot, tight passage. The throbbing weapon seemed to fill my ass canal to bursting and my flesh screamed with the fiery presence of the tool as it buried itself to the hilt in my taut, steaming ass.
I felt his fingers grasp hold of my hips and hold me firmly in place. I knelt forward on the blanket, pressing my head to the soft cloth, freeing one hand to place on my quaking womanly pit.
I slipped two of my own fingers inside of me then, and felt through the wall that divided them, his manhood pulsating in my anal track. I groaned thickly rocking from left to right, shuddering as the uncontrollable spasms began to tear through me now, leaving me helpless to do anything more than enjoy them.
"Ohh, God, Sister, I'm going to fuck your ass," Karl cried, softly. His voice was a mixture of shock and passion, greed and disbelief. "I'm going to do it, Sister, do it to you, now!"
Moaning wildly, I nodded and rubbed his cock with my fingers, while throwing my buttocks hard against his groin. I sobbed as I felt the huge spear pulsating inside of me then, growing thicker and hotter with each passing moment.
Karl moaned and shuddered and began to thrust himself in and out of my hot, aching ass. His huge shaft filled me with an exquisite agony and I shuddered and moaned with every powerful stroke that he took. I sobbed in delight, rocking and twisting as he drove the pulsating weapon in and out of me, faster and harder.
I was seized in the grasp of a powerful and overwhelming sensation that was completely new to me. Never had pain and pleasure been so closely related in my flesh and I eagerly responded to his every powerful thrust, trying desperately to match the rhythm and motion of his grinding loins.
Our bodies were locked together, seized in the wonderful and overwhelming tremors that tore through us. I screamed in delight as his cock drove deep into my ass pit, the huge spear quaking violently in the depths of my channel.
I ground my buttocks against his loins and felt his fingers kneading my hips with a savage greed. He pumped his manhood violently into me, now, losing all control of his passion, forgetting about everything but the awesome release that he was seeking.
He was not concerned with me now, and that thrilled me all the more. I loved the savage thrusts he took and the total lack of compassion he had for me. All I cared about was his horrible attack and how wonderful it felt to have him thundering inside of me. I was overcome with delight that he care nothing about any pain I might be experiencing, his cold cruelty seemed to spark my pleasure all the more.
He drove into me relentlessly, now, his manhood swelling to an unbelievable size in my anal passage. It felt as if it were going to rip my inner walls to shreds and I did not care one bit for how much damage he might be doing.
The pain and pleasure roared through me uncontrollably, now, and I was moaning and sobbing, jerking under the attack with a complete surrender to the fiery bliss that my lust was offering to me.
Harder he slammed into my ass-hole. I screamed as the violent tremors increased and everything around me melted away under the heat of my desire. I nodded and shuddered, gasping as I tried to urge him on.
"More, dear Karl, more," I whispered hungrily. "Harder, faster, more! I love this, Karl, ohhh, God, I love this, yes!"
"Ohh, God, Sister, it's so good," he gasped loudly. "You're so tight and hot! Ahh, dear Lord, I've never felt anything like this before!"
Both of us were beside ourselves with lust, now, quaking and trembling as he slammed into my anal pit with savage fury. I could no longer see, the pain and pleasure were so intense and I felt his body clinging to mine with an agonized hunger.
He rammed his manhood to the pit of my ass, twisting and turning as he buried the huge prong inside of me, then. I shivered and groaned, sobbing with the pulsating fury I felt in his tool.
Suddenly something erupted in my loins and waves of fierce, incredible pleasure tore right through me. Never in my life had I experienced such very powerful bliss and I wailed as the climax I had been urgently seeking burst in my fevered loins.
"It is here," I sobbed wildly, thrusting my anal chamber back against his huge, throbbing weapon. "Ohh, God, it is happening, so great, so wonderfully, it is happening, Karl!"
The lovely, violent tremors raced through my flesh, then, making me jerk and shudder with uncontrollable force. My whole body felt as if it were being consumed by the pleasure I felt and I sank into the greedy orgasm with total abandonment.
Karl thrust in and out of me wildly, then, grinding his tool deep in my bottom, kneading my flesh with his strong, young fingers. He was groaning thickly as I quivered under his attack and from the throbbing in his shaft, I could sense he too was near a moment of supreme ecstasy.
I used my eager rectal muscles now, kneading and squeezing his throbbing shaft as it powered into me. I gripped it hard and urged him on, aching to feel the climax burst from his tortured pole and boil in the very depths of my aching tunnel.
It was total ecstasy.
He moaned thickly, thrusting hard and fast into the depths of my pit, sobbing as the powerful release he ached for began to well up in the pit of his balls. He kissed my neck and shoulders hungrily and drove his tool hard and fast, burying it completely in my quivering, warm pit.
Suddenly he sobbed uncontrollably and began to shudder inside of me. I could feel hot, boiling fluid pumping violently from the heat of his prong, searing the tender flesh of my inner walls with its steaming greed.
"Ohhhh, Sister, yes, ohhhh, yes," he groaned, grinding the spurting tool hard against my aching inner flesh. "Ummm, that feels good, so good, Sister, yes!"
Waves of the thick, creamy liquid shot from his rod and splashed inside of me, now. The sticky milk began to overflow my pit and run down my thighs and I sobbed with delight as he climaxed so powerfully in my little ass.
Both of us trembled and quaked with the violence of our release. Our bodies were slippery with sweat and we could barely move, save for the involuntary tremors out lingering passion gave us.
We fell over on our sides, moaning and sighing contentedly, his shaft still deep in my quaking pit. I lay there, staring out at the rain, feeling warm and content, now, unable to know that danger lurked ahead, that in a very short time, the bliss I felt would be replaced by a savage agony.
As I lay there groaning, I could not know that soon my life would be shattered by a dreadful attack that would not only leave me scarred and broken, but change the whole course of my life.
CHAPTER FIVE
Sister Agnes believed that sin was a form of possession. That the devil sent demons to invade our souls and take control of us, thereby forcing us without our knowing, to commit sins.
That this went against the teaching of the church, which preached that man was responsible for his own fate and his sins, did not bother her in the least.
"If that be true," she would chuckle wickedly. "Then even the pope is damned, for he is the biggest sinner of us all!"
She would say such things, and even the most dedicated of her followers would cringe, as if God had heard her voice and would strike her down with a mighty blow of His powerful and all-knowing sword.
Since I was not yet a true convert to her ideas and beliefs, I paid little attention to her ravings. I knew God would not strike her, just as I knew that her strange ideas were foolish and unreal.
I believed in the teachings of the church, and surely would never have changed my mind for a moment, had it not been for the bad luck of having been observed with Karl that afternoon.
I should have known to be more careful, I realized, later. Sister Joan had not only been my tutor, but also my enemy. I had dimly understood this from the start, when I saw her eyes flicker with jealousy over the way Sister Agnes seemed to find me so appealing and possibly valuable.
I was just a foolish young girl, of course, so I did not bother trying to analyze Sister Joan's dislike for me. I merely let her be and tried to do my work as best as I could. I never thought her hatred would be able to affect me deeply.
Of course, with such bitter hatred burning in her soul for me, it did not take Sister Joan long to find something to use against me. I was totally unaware that she was following me that afternoon, eagerly spying on my coupling with poor Karl.
When I arrived back at the convent, both of us taking separate paths, I found the other nuns and novices strangely distant as I tried to speak to them. They seemed to want to avoid me, and after awhile I began to grow nervous and worried.
I knew there could be only one explanation. I went to my cell and shamelessly prayed, begging God to spare me any punishment by Sister Agnes. I swore to remain pure for the rest of my days, but my confession and promises did me no good.
Sister Joan came into my cell, smiling grimly, cracking her short strap against the palm of her hand. "On your feet, sinful one," she hissed at me, whacking me hard across the back of my head with the strap. "Your hour of reckoning has come!"
Trembling with rapidly growing fear, I rose dutifully to my feet and bowed my head in respect as I walked by the older nun. She kicked me hard in the buttocks, sending me sprawling across the narrow hallway and into the stairway.
"Foolish little slut," she growled at me. "Sister Agnes knows of your sins, she knows what foul deed you have done! She is going to make an example of you, girl, you had best prepare yourself for a truly hellish punishment!"
I blinked, trying hard not to burst into tears, now. I was terrified of what was, going to happen, but I knew that I did not dare utter a word for fear of doing myself more injury that I already expected.
Quickly I was ushered up the narrow, steep set of stairs and down the corridor on the main floor. Sister Joan kicked and slapped me along with her feet and the strap, clearly taking great delight in every savage blow that she struck.
"You're not the apple of Sister Agnes's eyes, now, little whore," she whispered in a cruel, mocking voice. Then she pushed me into the room where I had witnessed so many other's being disciplined in the past.
All the nuns and novices were in the room, then. They were standing in place by the curved benches, though not a single head turned as I was forced to the front, and told to climb the steps leading to the alter.
There, on the platform, stood Sister Agnes in her white robes with golden trim, dressed for what was obviously a very, very special ceremony. I had rarely seen her in this outfit, but I knew enough to know that this must be grave indeed.
Usually for such important cleansing services such as what had happened with Father John two years earlier, she wore a robe of rich, red satin. But this robe was of the finest cloth, and the cold trimming was rich and ornate, spun of the very metal itself. She looked cold and commanding as I climbed the steps and my heart was beating wildly in my breast as I drew near to her.
"Bow, sinful child," she hissed at me, pointing her long, skinny finger to the floor. "You are in grave need of exorcism for the devil that lives inside of you, we shall attempt to save your soul before it is too late!"
I knew no such devil existed, in fact, I did not regret, in any holy sense, anything I had done. The only grief I had for the lovely time I spent with Karl, was the fact that I was about to pay for it with my very flesh!
I sobbed as I knelt down in front of the tall, gaunt sister. I was trembling now, unable to keep from shaking as the fear raged through me. I bowed my head and shut my eyes tightly, not wanting to have to see what she was going to do to me.
She stepped down from the altar and placed her hand on the top of my head. I felt her fingers closing around my skull, squeezing me with a powerful grip that denied the slightness of her figure.
"This child has sinned," she said coldly. She pushed my head back, forcing me to stare into her eyes. They were blazing with rage and fury and just the sight of them made my belly churn with a sickening dread.
"You have taken unto your flesh, that of another," she said grimly. "You have defiled the sacred temple of your body and angered our Lord with your willful pursuit of pleasure. This must be avenged!"
Her fingers closed more tightly around my head and I moaned in pain. "Sister, please, forgive me," I moaned, trying hard to swallow the lump of fear in my throat. "I beg mercy for my sins, as our Lord himself would grant it!"
Viciously she slapped me across the face, knocking me to my side on the cold stone steps of the altar. She glared at me, the veins in her temples throbbing as her anger grew more wild and fierce.
"How dare you speak of God, whore?" she growled at me. "Keep your filthy mouth shut, slut! God does not speak to you, only to me, and he tells me he is angry!"
I moaned, tasting a bit of blood in my mouth where her savage blow had cut my inner lip. I watched her advance on me then, totally unable to move, I was so paralyzed with aching fear and dread. She grabbed hold of my hair and pulled me roughly to a kneeling position in front of her once more.
"Were it up to me, I would tear your flesh from your bones and leave them to rot in the sun for your evil wickedness," she told me cruelly. "But our God is merciful and he stays my hand, girl."
She looked up and over my head at the other nuns in front of her, now. "She is surely damned, Sisters, unless we help her," she told them. "She is possessed by a fierce and powerful demon that is so strongly entrenched in her soul, that only the most extreme measures of exorcism will release her from the devil's grasp!"
I heard these words, not believing them of course, but so awfully frightened and worried that I could do little more than shamelessly nod, trying anything to get back on Sister Agnes's good side. I ached to escape, though I knew such plans were futile even in thought, so I prayed that by agreeing with her, I might temper her punishment.
"Ohh, Sister, please, help me," I moaned, quivering uncontrollably in my fear, my voice weak and broken with dread. "Help me to be free from the demon locked in my soul! Help me to rid myself of his damning influence, please!"
She stared at me, grimly. "We shall see, cursed one, . we shall see," she whispered cruelly. "Only God will be able to tell us if we succeed or not!"
She nodded to two nuns and they drew me to my feet, holding my arms tightly in their powerful grasp. Sister Agnes stepped forward and began to unbutton the heavy robes I wore, yanking them from my body with a building excitement.
"She is not fit to wear these as yet," she growled to the others. She pulled them off of me and I was standing there, naked, suddenly, the flesh of my body trembling and bumped with fear. "She must suffer unto the Lord in her sinful nakedness!"
She walked up to the top of the altar and removed a single stranded whip, the tip of which had been sliced perhaps into five separate lengths of leather each nearly four inches long. The tips were fit with sharp, metal tips and they shimmered cruelly in the glow of the candle light.
She came back down the steps and handed the whip to me. "Self-punishment is the way to begin, sinner," she hissed at me. "I want to see you open your flesh and bleed for our God! Show him through me, that you beg his mercy and are truly seeking salvation. Act as if you are repentant, demon seed!"
The leather handle was cold and clammy in my grasp. It's texture was rough and unpleasing to the touch and when I gazed down at the metal tips, the light bounced off of them and blinded me painfully.
I had never indulged in self-flagellation before. like most of the other nuns, I had participated in it as a matter of course, hardly stinging myself at all. I was not like the small band of nuns that believed in Sister Agnes totally. To bring myself to inflicting pain on my person willfully, was something I felt beyond attempting.
But as I stood there, I realized that if I did not do this, someone else would. It might be Sister Agnes, or even Sister Inez, and I had no wish to submit to abuse by either one of them, especially Sister Inez.
I balanced the whip evenly in my hand and flicked my arm and wrist, sending the strands singing over my shoulder and striking against my shoulders. The pain was minor, hardly more than a gentle sting and Sister Agnes shook her head in disgust.
"That is nothing," she growled thickly. She grabbed me by the throat and shook me ruthlessly. "You must feel pain to be purified, whore," she growled once more. "Blood must flow down over your body and wash the sin from your flesh! Only then can we begin to attack the devil which lives inside of you!"
She stepped back once more and narrowed her eyes. Her fingers clasped around the handle of the ceremonial knife she wore in her sash. "If you are so taken with Satan's ways, you shall infect the whole of the convent," she whispered warningly. "It is my duty to protect my children. If you can not resist Satan and cleanse your flesh, I shall have to cut him out of you with this!"
I shook my head violently and whipped back my arm. The tips of the metal lashed at me, this time, and cut into my flesh with a harsh, painful fury. I gasped at the pain I had just inflicted on myself.
My arm flicked back again, and this time the metal tips struck cleanly, cutting into my shoulders with a tearing agony I would not have believed I was capable of giving to myself. I screamed in pain and Sister Agnes nodded slowly.
"That's it, more, slut, more," she murmured urgently. "You are beginning to fight him, beginning to take the devil on. Harder, whore, open up your back for all to see! Wound yourself, sinful child, drain his power from your flesh with your dripping blood. Now, slut, now!"
Clearly there was no choice for me. I whipped the strands against myself another time, putting more power and force into the blow than I could have imagined. The pain seared in my torn flesh with unbelievable strength.
I began to move my arm in a more rapid motion, each blow designed to inflict more damage and pain than the last. I was hurting myself worse, in many ways, than any other nun had hurt me in the past. I lashed at my shoulders and flesh, savagely, now, somehow the agony doubling my efforts to give myself pain.
Sister Agnes looked on in satisfaction as I began to lash at every part of my body that I could reach. The ugly metal tips cut into my hips and buttocks, sliced through the flesh of my calves and thighs.
The harder I hurt myself, the more compelled, I seemed, to go on. I could not understand why I was doing this to myself, but somehow each savage blow that gave me such pain, seemed to renew my energy and strength for another.
Sister Inez nodded happily. "The blood that flows, purifies," she said softly. "The wounds that open in your flesh, shall help to heal your soul."
I gasped as I cracked the whip against my flanks, the ugly, cutting tips of the lash curling around and ripping into my flesh. I screamed as I felt the skin torn and ripped, opening up dozens of cuts on my tender buttocks.
"The pain reminds you that you are human, that you are poor and weak with little hope," Sister Agnes chanted. "Each blow you strike tells you that you must suffer, and suffer willingly for your sins! Strike harder, harder still!"
A frenzy seemed to take hold of me at this point. I was rocking and weaving about the altar, lashing at myself in terrible, crashing strokes. The pain seared me to my bones and my blood began to flow in rivers from the tiny cuts in my flesh.
Each little wound flowed into a larger body of blood, until the dripping of a dozen or more of them made its silent, slow journey down over my buttocks and thighs.
My blood was warm on my undamaged flesh and reminded me of what I was doing to myself. I stared down at the floor, shaking spasmodically, my eyes locked on the small puddle of blood that was expanding at my feet.
Harder and harder I struck at myself. I could not believe the violence in my blows, nor the way I seemed to be growing eager and pleased with the task. It was as if my mind were somewhere outside of my body, free of pain and heart, commanding me to beat myself with a savage and cruel delight.
Each blow I landed made me wail with agony, made my limbs and flesh quiver with only increasing pain. I sobbed thickly, rocking from left to right as I beat myself, listening to the chanting sounds of Sister Agnes' ceremony.
"Suffering is your life, pain is the pleasure you seek," she cooed almost lovingly in my ears. "Seek to endure agony, seek to purify your flesh with pain!"
She turned to the nuns and lifted her arms and they all rose' and joined her in the chant. Even my own lips were moving now, trembling and silent, but mouthing the words along with the rest of them.
"Pain frees us from the flesh," we said in a droning tone of voice. Each word punctuated by the sound of the whip striking my flesh. "Pain makes us whole, pain gives us the gift of God's love. Only pain can make us free!"
The words roared in my ears, throbbed painfully at my eardrums as the assembled nuns grew more anxious under the view of my self-discipline. My eyes were shut tightly now, and I was trying to force out everything but the pure sensation of the whip striking me over and over again by my own hand.
"Pain is the relief from pleasure," I moaned, softly, quivering as I struck my torn and bleeding back once more. "Pleasure is the sin I must erase. Pain is the pleasure I must seek. Oh, God, help me to understand and seek the suffering you wish from me! Help me to become one with agony for You!"
Harder and faster I laid the lash into me, now. I could barely lift my arm it was so tired, could hardly keep on my feet, my body ached so. I cracked the whip against me again and again, repeating the words Sister Agnes nearly shouted in my face by this point, her hot breath searing my cheeks as she spoke.
"You are doomed, damned for all time, only suffering now will you save yourself for after this life!" she bellowed. "You shall endure the fires of hell on earth, so that you might bask in the cool shade of heaven after life! Take the pain, embrace it, make it yours! Wash your flesh clean with your blood, give God evidence of your repentance, now!"
My mind was whirling now, caught in the raging emotions and agony that I was going through. Part of me had no idea what was happening, I only heard her words as a droning noise, only felt the stinging blows of the vicious lashing I was giving to myself.
I felt weak and faint and suddenly I was lying on my side on the steps, unable to remember falling down. I groaned, still trying to lash my back with my weak and aching arm, as Sister Agnes came down the steps to where I lay.
She took the whip from my feeble fingers and inspected my torn and bleeding flesh. She nodded in satisfaction and turned, walking up the steps to the altar. She turned around to face the assembled nuns, nodding again, gravely.
"Her rich young blood is flowing, Sisters," she hissed softly. "She is in the process of washing the sin from her flesh! She has passed the first test of her exorcism, now she must approach the next ordeal."
Through the fog in my brain, I sensed the room growing even more tense than before. Soft, compelling murmurs came from the crowd, their voice low but fevered as they gazed upon me lying there, quivering and moaning in pain.
"Bring her to the alter," Sister Agnes commanded the two assistant nuns. "We shall begin the second phase of the exorcism!"
The two older women lifted me up by the arms and dragged me up the steps to the altar. I could barely see through the tears of pain that clouded my eyes, and my head hung on my chest, gazing at my feet as they slithered over the steps.
Sister Agnes had the women place me on the altar, face down. I moaned sharply as they turned me over, their hands brushing against the open wounds on my flesjj. My body was throbbing painfully,, a continual series of stinging sensations assaulting me in dozens of different places.
I could hardly think straight, now, so twisted and terrified was my mental state. All I wanted was for my torture to cease and I was willing to play any role to achieve that desired purpose.
I had come to the strange state of not being totally repulsed by pain. It was not that I welcomed it, nor did I desire it in any normal sense; yet, somehow, the throbbing hurt was becoming increasingly normal and familiar to me. Needless to say, I understood none of what I was experiencing, only that I was afraid and wanted my fear and worry to end as soon as possible.
"Bind her, Sisters," Sister Agnes commanded the nuns. "Let her body be one with the altar, for she has much more to endure before she is rid of the demons inside her soul! Bind her tightly, now!"
Quickly the nuns tied my wrists and ankles to the four, stone pillars that supported the altar. They moved swiftly, but they need not have, for I could hardly have resisted any of their efforts, in my weakened condition.
I watched with a vague fascination as they wrapped thick cord around my wrists and pulled my arms down over the edges of the altar, then did the same with my legs. In a matter of moments, I was so tightly tied to the altar, that I could hardly move.
They moved away from the altar then and Sister Agnes approached, smiling cruelly as she lifted a large urn from the shelf above the alter. She stood over me, then, gazing down at me fiercely.
"Your blood flows to cleanse your flesh," she almost whispered. "And now the sacred oil shall mix with your virginal blood and purify your wounds!"
With that she poured the mixture over my bleeding flesh and a burning pain began to race across the length of my bound body. I screamed in agony, lifting my head up from the cool, hard marble as the stinging lotion washed over me.
The salt and vinegar poured into my open wounds, cutting through the rivers of blood and attacking my helpless flesh with a horrible force. One would not think a bit of salt and vinegar would hurt so much, but when one has a multitude of wounds, the pain can increase ten-fold.
I struggled uncontrollably against the tight cords that held me to the altar. My young body twisted and turned against my agony but
I was hopelessly trapped, unable to move more than a few inches in either direction.
Sister Agnes poured all the contents of the urn on my trapped frame, moving slowly up and down the length of my body, from my neck to my ankles until the urn was empty and the contents working on my wounds to clean and close them. The pain throbbed through me relentlessly, bringing tears to my eyes again, making my mind scream and wail in my head with the pain I was enduring.
I was breathing rapidly, my lungs on fire as I caught each tortured breath. I felt weak and faint and my stomach churned with a vile sickness that I had to fight to keep from bursting out of my throat.
Sister Agnes turned to the nuns and motioned that they kneel down in front of their benches. I watched, blinking the tears out of my eyes, feeling a growing dread for whatever evil torture she had planned for me next.
"Now is the hour of your redemption," she chanted, directing her words at me, though she continued to stare out at the other nuns. "Now is the moment when we shall set you free! You have passed the first level of suffering, now "cm shall reach the peak of agony and bind yourself at last to God through your punishment."
My body was throbbing dully, of course, it seemed like forever since I last was free of pain. My flesh grew taut and began to tingle strangely as if in anticipation for whatever was yet to come.
I turned my head for a better view of things and saw Sister Agnes walking slowly from left to right at the head of the steps. She was nodding her head, almost as if in a trance and her voice had taken on a strange and almost unnatural tone as she spoke in a loud, droning manner.
"Only your repentance shall save you, only by enduring the fires of agony shall you be able to cross over to the bosom of our Lord," she was saying. "Prepare, prepare for your sacrifice! Make ready to experience the avenging hand of God!"
She moved swiftly to a tall, golden stand in which smoldered burning coals. A long, silver iron rested in the coals, and from my raised position, I could see the slender tip of the rod already white hot on top of the smoking mass.
Sister Agnes lifted the iron from its bed of coals and turned abruptly, showing it to me, now. "This is your redemption, sinner," she hissed at me wildly. "This shall burn the sin out of you, shall drive the devil from the bowels of your flesh!"
My eyes went wide with horror and shock. I could not believe what I was hearing. I gulped frantically, shaking my head and moving my lips in frantic haste. "No, no please, Sister, no," I moaned, beginning to sob once more. "Ohh, dear Jesus, forgive me! Please, Sister, you can not mean it, please!"
"Prepare her passage for God's tool," she barked and one of the nuns moved quickly over to where I lay. "Make her ready to receive the burning shaft!"
I screamed as I felt the nuns oil coated fingers slithering into the cleft between my buttocks. I felt her rudely jamming two of the digits up inside of me, turning them round against my flesh, coating my inner walls with the thick, slippery fluid as she widened my passage beyond normal width.
"Ohh, God, don't, ohhh, it hurts," I sobbed as the nun gleefully drove her fingers deep into my taut ass, rubbing them cruelly against my inner walls. "No, dear Sister, Jesus don't! Please, I'll do anything, please!"
Sister Agnes walked toward me now, holding the white hot, smoking iron in her hand. She smiled coldly at me and uttered a short, harsh laugh. You have taken a man into your secret chambers, girl," she told me savagely. "Thus, the devil had made impure your inner flesh. You have washed him clean of your outer body, now this tool shall purge him from where you can not reach!"
She turned to the other nun and the woman spoke. "It is done, Sister," she said in a harsh whisper. "The girl is ready to receive the Lord's vengeance!"
Sister Agnes turned and gazed at me sternly. "You must prepare to accept the Lord's will, child," she told me softly. "You must come to learn that only by suffering shall you be redeemed. Take his will and burning purity unto your flesh aand bind yourself to it! Soon you shall be as one with all of us, your agony sealing the embrace you may have with God!"
With that she turned to the other nun and spoke sharply. "Pull her wide, Sister," she growled. "We must make an easy path for the Lord!"
I screamed wildly as I felt my buttocks being spread apart. I turned my head, my eyes wide with horror and fear as I saw Sister Agnes positioning herself beside my defenseless anal passage.
Slowly she lowered the smoldering iron. I could feel the heat pouring off of it as she brought it near to my helpless ass. I sobbed and struggled hopelessly against the bonds on my wrists, tearing at them so frantically that the coarse rope soon cut into the flesh at my hands and blood began to flow once more.
"Nooooo," I screamed as Sister Agnes brought the white-hot iron to the entrance of my anal pit. "Sister, please, please, please! Noooo!"
"Take the Lord unto you, now!" she shouted and drove the rod into my gaping pit.
The pain was so intense as she slid the smoldering iron up into me that I was actually lifted up from the marble by the sheer power of it. My eyes seemed to boil in their sockets and my head throbbed as if being beaten by hammers.
She slithered the rod perhaps four inches up into my tight, anal canal and the stench of my own burning flesh filled my nostrils with its awful odor. I kicked and screamed in agony, overwhelmed by the unbelievable pain I was feeling.
Never in my life had I felt anything so bad as this. A thousand whippings and beatings would have been as tender slaps compared to this agony. Smoke poured from my poor, seared interior and I wailed in a tone of voice I did not recognize as my own.
I could not see, my eyes were so blinded by the red mist of my agony. The pain began to consume me completely, now, shutting out every possible sensation but its own. I sobbed and thrashed on the cold marble altar, the harsh, burning hurt never abating for a single instant.
"Embrace the pain, child, declare your love for it," chanted Sister Agnes. "The pain is your God's gift! It makes you free! Love the pain, child, become one with the Lord through your suffering. It is his gift, take it! Take the pain now, child, take it now!"
Through the twisted agony I was enduring I felt my mind leaving me as if a portion of my soul were swiftly departing. I understood nothing then but the savage agony and the never-ending reality that I was going to suffer like this forever.
I sobbed and screamed, the pain overtaking me completely, binding me to it as pleasure never had before. Nothing had ever felt like this, nothing in all my life. The sensations of delight I experienced with Stephen and Karl were pale beside this. I could no longer even think of them. All I could focus on was the driving, cruel torture that was possessing me, now.
I broke free of my refusal to surrender and began to sink down into the agony, giving myself to it totally. Suddenly it was just as Sister Agnes had said. Suddenly I became part of the pain, one with it, nothing mattered but it anymore.
The hurt never ceased, never left my seared and burning flesh, but I no longer attempted to escape it, but began to eagerly give myself to it completely. I started nodding in my madness, laughing hysterically.
"Yes, yes," I sobbed, my voice twisted and torn with agony. "I love it, I love the pain, now! Ohh, God, thank You, thank You for this suffering! I am there, I am with God's torture! Yes, yes, yes!"
Sister Agnes laughed in delight and pulled the searing tool from my tortured ass. I continued screaming and wailing, my voice having now lost any connection with reality. She gazed at me in satisfaction, smiling almost lovingly at me, now.
"You are one of us, child," she whispered softly. "Now you are a true sister to our Lord! Now you can experience His blessed suffering completely!"
She began to lead the nuns in prayer as I continued to sob and moan on the altar. A large part of me was gone, now, completely vanished under the agony I was experiencing. I felt suddenly, deliciously free, and knew in my heart that I was glad to have suffered, glad, at last, to be one with God.
CHAPTER SIX
Years passed and I grew into a woman. I had changed, of course, almost from the day I had been so cruelly branded by Sister Agnes, I became different. I became one of her more fanatic supporters.
This of course is not an uncommon condition, often those that are tortured will come to love their tormentors, and even the torment itself. In any case, I no longer merely went along with things, I plunged into the beliefs and rituals with a savage desire to know them all and participate completely.
Of course, it was not hard to become a member in good standing. Sister Agnes had selected me as one of her most valuable prospects, and the moment I showed more than a passing interest in her strange beliefs and rites, she eagerly began to train me in them herself.
She passed over Sister Inez, of course, the older woman was merely a follower, Sister Agnes explained to me, and what she needed were born leaders. "To rid the world of sin, we must have generals, not privates at the head of command," she explained.
As for myself, I was tickled with the idea of leaping over Sister Inez in the chain of command. I was very careful not to arouse her anger as my time passed with her, but I grew bolder with each passing year, bowing to her wishes less and less.
I burned with a desire to avenge myself on the woman, for my poor, anal track hurt savagely for months after my torture, though I grew quite fond of the pain. It was more a sense of honor than anything else. If I had been made to suffer for my sins, I was determined to see that same fate fall upon her.
But Sister Inez was quite the sly fox indeed.
She gave me no hint of any wrong-doing on her part and after a time, I lost interest in taking my revenge, as I grew more and more involved with the dealings of the convent.
I came to realize that Sister Agnes's power and influence went far beyond the walls of our secluded home. She knew many priests and sisters in convents all over the country, and had each one of them tucked away in her pocket so to speak.
I learned over the years, just how depraved many of the sons and daughters of the Lord truly were, and grew to hate the Pope for his wickedness and lies as much or more than the good Sister I served.
It became obvious to me, that only the destruction of Rome's power would save the church and thereby the world. I threw myself into the plans we made, dedicating myself and soul to the salvation of the world through our plan of punishment and redemption.
Eagerly I subjected my body to daily amounts of suffering. I purged myself morning noon and night, whenever possible lashing my flesh with a strap until I could swing my arm no longer. It was not very long before I was admired by all for my zeal and the amount of self-abuse I could endure.
I know how mad this sounds to you my son, but you must realized that these were different times, and I a different nun. I was so twisted and insane with all I had suffered, that the only logic I could follow was that of the harshest order. To my poor, deranged mind, only pain made sense, only savage agony had any worth.
At the age of twenty-one, I became second in command to Sister Agnes. Sister Inez raged silently with jealousy and hatred as my appointment was announced to all the other nuns in the chapel. I knew how deeply she despised me, and I realized I would have to be on guard for any devious moves she might make against me.
I was secure in my mind, however, for I believed completely in Sister Agnes and her ideas, now, and had sworn myself to promoting them. I was without sin, still a virgin and dedicated to life-long suffering. I could not be harmed by any petty jealousy on Sister Inez's part. I was certain of it.
We now had many plans. Subtly, we sent out our converts to the world to spread the word. Some went in the garments of our faith, others disguised as common folk, to work and play and pray among them.
In other parts of the land, we had fellow converts in other monasterys and convents, preaching our faith in secret to whomever they could recruit. Slowly our power began to extend and build and throughout the land, the rumblings of disorder and change began to grow. We were becoming the center of a whirlwind.
Sister Agnes was by now, quite mad. At the time, of course, I thought she was truly blessed, that her insanity marked the hand of God on her. She was totally demented now, able to go into a fit of hysterics at the slightest questioning of her beliefs. Even some of our most fervent believers feared for her, her madness made them uneasy, though bothered me not in the slightest.
I do not know what would have happened if things had been allowed to continue. I can not say if we would have finally won control of the church. Those were strange and troubled times, and even the purest of souls could be corrupted by one more powerful and commanding than their own.
All I can say is that things went on more or less the same, our power growing, our minds expanding to more horrifying and evil dimensions until that day when the strange and powerful priest came to our convent and began to work his magic on us all.
His name was Father Martin and he appeared one summer afternoon, as if ,a vision of mighty strength and brooding manhood. He stood six feet tall and weighed more than two hundred pounds. He arrived on a huge, white stallion and wore not the garb of a cleric, but the rough hide clothing of a man of the forest.
He terrified Sister Inez when he banged the knocker on the door so hard that he nearly tore it off the hinge. He bellowed for admittance to the convent in a powerful voice that carried over the walls and echoed in the convent yard.
"Who are you?" Sister Inez demanded, attempting to make her voice as loud and strong as his, but failing miserably.
"I am Father Martin, seeking refuge from the world outside, Sister," he bellowed, shoving past her in a manner which no one ever had before. "I wish to rest awhile behind your walls before continuing on my way."
She let the door shut on its own and stumbled along behind the big man as he made his way into the yard. She was staring after him in shock and fear, obviously completely in awe of the huge man who had invaded our sacred grounds.
I was watching from my room on the second floor of the convent and I felt a slight, but familiar tremor in my loins as I gazed down upon the startling man, a feeling I had not had in several years.
He was truly an impressive sight. He had coal black hair and a thick, bushy beard. His eyes were a blazing blue in their sockets and they twinkled dangerously even from where I sat, captivated by him.
I had no idea what was happening, but it was clear to me, that Sister Inez could not deal with this intruder in any manner. I got up and swiftly made my way to the door of the main building, baring it with my body as the giant approached.
"You would shut me out," he chuckled softly as he appraised my features with a cool, discerning eye. "A man of God you would keep from entering His own house?"
"You're manners leave much to be desired, Sir," I hissed at him, coldly. "Not to mention your crude way of expressing yourself! We are gentle nuns here, we do not take kindly to such rowdy disturbance!"
He laughed wickedly. "Then, pray, gentle nun," he told me, sweeping me out of his path with a brush of his arm. "And allow a humble servant of God to rest himself behind your walls. I don't come to eat you, you know!"
He stood the main room gazing at all the treasures that filled the holy place. He shook his head and whistled softly under his breath. "By God, you could feed many of the poor with what you have here, Sister," he said, sourly. "Why is it that so many of God's children hoard their riches like the most ungodly of misers?"
"Come, I shall give you food and drink," I growled, ignoring his question completely. "Then perhaps you shall allow us to continue our holy lives in peace, and go on you way to do what evil you will in God's name!"
He laughed in delight and followed me into the kitchen. As he sat at a table, shoveling down food as if starved for a week or more, he questioned me closely on our duties and manner of faith.
I could tell he was probing my mind, trying to take the measure of me, and I skillfully avoided revealing too much of our order to the strange, powerful man. He seemed familiar in some way, as if someone from my past, but I knew that was impossible.
I remembered no one like him from my youth, and my dealings with men had been almost nonexistent since arriving at the convent. Still, as I busied myself in the kitchen, I could not help but feel I knew him somehow.
That he worried and frightened me I realized, but I did not really understand just why. I assumed he was a rough, lusty priest, perhaps an outlaw monk, or exile from some distant monastery.
I found him totally disagreeable and I could not wait to send him on his way. I found him threatening and obscene in every way, and the sooner he was gone, I felt the more relieved I would be.
Sister Agnes, now grown rather feebled in her old age, hobbled into the kitchen to meet the strange man, but I carefully kept her from speaking to him too much. She sometimes lost control of her tongue these days and I saw no wisdom in her preaching damnation and the downfall of the Pope to one we did not know.
When I finally got the old woman to leave the kitchen, the mad priest chuckled as he watched her go. "So that is the famous Sister Agnes," he snorted. "I have heard of her, though she is somewhat less than awesome in person."
My anger surged in my heart and my temples throbbed with rage. I spoke in an icy tone of voice, struggling to keep calm at his poor choice of words. I sneered at him, my bravado rich in my soul.
"She has done more to save souls than you ever shall, I wager," I told him. "She is truly blessed by God, where I doubt you shall even touch the hem of his robe on Judgment Day, Father!"
He turned a curious, cold eye on me. "I suspect she will have a bit of explaining to do," he ventured sourly. "God does not look kindly on those that use pain and torture to recruit his children to him."
"Finish your meal and be gone," I hissed at him. "I care not to have such obvious evil in our house. You have been refreshed, Father, now leave!"
He smiled thinly and shook his head. "My poor horse needs nourishment, too, Sister," he said evenly. "I shall not starve the poor animal merely because you dislike my opinions of your blessed Mistress!"
The gorge rose in my throat but I let it pass. I nodded grimly. "I shall show you the stables," I growled at him. "I do not wish the other nuns to be tainted by your unfortunate presence here! Follow me!"
Happily he got up from the small stool he was seated upon and trailed along behind me out to the yard once more. He opened the huge door himself and took hold of his horse's reins. I watched him closely then turned without speaking and headed toward the big barn where we keep our farm animals.
At this hour of the day, almost all of the nuns were either napping or in prayer. The barn was empty save for the animals kept there and I felt a rather strange and chilling sense of dread coming over me as we stepped inside.
It was cooler there and I leaned against a post that supported the hay loft as I watched Father Martin unsaddling his horse and tethering him to a stable stall. He pitched several forks of hay in for the animal then gazed around the barn, smiling in a knowing manner until his eyes came back to me.
"So you are Sister Adele," he chuckled coldly. His smile was wide and mocking, as if he found me quite amusing. "I have heard a lot about you, Sister. You are the purest of pure, are you not! The virginal queen and handmaiden to our Lord!"
"How dare you speak to me in this manner?" I almost screamed. I advanced on him, so angry now, I thought I might strike him. "How dare you utter such words behind the walls of this holy place?"
He moved steadily away from me as I approached him, and I did not notice he was edging toward the doors of the barn. Quickly he pulled them closed and set the inner bolt in place.
"I should like to conduct our business in private, Sister," he said quietly. "I do not need witnesses for what we are about to engage in."
I had no idea of what he was talking about. Of course, even given all the sin that I knew raged in Rome and even out in the surrounding land, I still could not guess what evil intentions he had concerning me.
"Are you to hold me prisoner in here?" I laughed bitterly. "You are a fool, priest! I can open that door any time I wish. I do not know what you have in mind, nor why you are doing this foolish thing, but I advise you to open that door at once!"
He was near enough to touch me, now and with a savage flick of his hand, he cracked his open palm against my cheek and sent me sprawling into the pile of hay behind me.
I gasped in pain and the moment I attempted to sit up, he was upon me, pinning me down with one hand over my mouth, the other pressed hard against my belly. I gasped in shock and struggled feverishly against his weight.
"Calm, now, Sister, practice some calm," he whispered harshly. "I could kill you in an instant should you scream, and I promise you I will should one cry leave your lips when I release my hand from your pretty mouth!"
He took his huge palm away and I choked and gasped at him. "Are you mad, Father?" I said in terror and shock. "Do you realize what you are doing? Let me up at once!"
His hand rubbed absently at my belly and began to crawl upward toward my heaving bosom. I moaned in fear as I felt the huge, strong fingers slowly closing over one of my firm, hard breasts.
"I am about to free you from the curse of this devil woman, Sister," he told me softly, his Fingers now squeezing my breast in a gentle manner through the coarse material of my robe. "I am about to put back into your life, that which she so cruelly has driven out! You shall thank me, Sister, I promise you!"
I started to speak but his mouth suddenly covered mine and for the first time in years I felt the passion of a man's greedy kiss. I was shocked and revolted by his hungry kiss. I gagged with the very idea of it and struggled vainly to free myself from the imprisoning weight of his body.
His mouth moved over mine with a savage, yet' tender passion. His lips were cruel and manly and they pressed brutally against my own. I felt his tongue stabbing between his teeth, pressing against mine which were tightly clenched, in an attempt to reach my own pink dart, buried in my mouth behind them.
His free hand rode down over my thighs and slithered beneath the hem of my dress. I felt the rough, calloused fingers gripping my bare legs and I screamed quietly as he kneaded my now damp inner thigh in a totally erotic fashion.
"Gently, Sister," he chuckled softly, slowly working his hand upward along my quivering thigh. "Do not fight me, dear Adele, give in, surrender to the passion I have brought to you! Already I can feel the fire that comes from your loins, it tells me how much you want what I offer! Take it, my love, it is yours!"
Vainly I struggled against the caressing hand. I sobbed in horror and shock as I felt the tips of his fingers riding closer to my hot, quivering pit, the apex of my thighs now damp with the long forgotten juice of passion that once flowed from my pit. I could not believe the sensations that were beginning to tingle within me, and in terror, now, I fought back.
He laughed in delight and lashed at my teeth with his tongue. I felt his free hand pulling my jaw apart and then the dash of his arrow against my own. I gagged as he entwined his tongue around mine, and his hand pinned my throat to the hay in an effort to shut off the air to my tortured lungs.
"I can be tender and kind, or crude and violent, Sister Adele," he warned me, baring down hard on his arm, choking me all the more. "It does not matter much to me. What is important is that it is done. You need my love to save your soul, foolish woman, now decide how you wish to have it, now!"
I was gagging thickly and wanted to be free of the horrifying thought that I might pass out or even die in this crude attack. I had no wish to feel any more of the tingling pleasures that were beginning to flow through my loins, but the thought of being unconscious during this was more terrifying and disgusting than anything else, so I nodded in agreement.
"What do you wish me to do?" I whispered anxiously. "I am at your mercy, now, Father. I can not resist you any longer."
He laughed cruelly. "That is something I would doubt all my days, Sister," he told me. "So beware, I shall not drop my guard! Take off those robes, dear Adele, I wish to see you in all your glorious nakedness!"
Shamefully I drew myself up to my knees and pulled on the strings that held the top of my dress shut. I fumbled my fingers along them, tugging them free at last and shrugged the garment off my shoulders, exposing my firm, round breasts to his eager eyes.
He sucked in his breath with a delightful gasp and nodded slowly. "Magnificent, precious Adele," he whistled softly. "You should be ashamed to hide such beauty! Now, quickly, the rest of it!"
I stood up slowly, forcing the dress down over my hips and thighs. His eyes never left me as I pushed the garment to my feet and then stepped out of it gracefully. He smiled up at me, then and nodded.
"What a beautiful creature you are, dear Adele," he laughed, his voice thick with a building desire. "Your body is exquisite, my dear, truly a vision to behold!"
I was trembling with embarrassment as his eyes wandered over my breasts and hillock, drinking in every inch of my milk white flesh. I knew my charms were attractive, though I did not bother with them anymore, and I could not help feeling a little bit pleased that they were exciting him.
I licked my lips with my tongue and smiled, then drove a foot into his chest and raced for the door. In moments he was upon me, his hands dragging me back toward the pile of hay. I tried to scream, but he cupped his hand over my mouth and threw me crudely into the hay once more.
He held a finger to his lips and shook his head, then fell upon me again, kissing me with twice the amount of savagery he had before. I twisted and turned my head away, clawing at him with my nails, but he only laughed and kissed me harder.
"You are going to be some wildcat for taming," he laughed wickedly. His hand was back over one of my breasts again, kneading it harshly with his thick, strong fingers. "It shall be a pleasure to introduce you to life once more!"
I was horrified as his mouth roamed over mine once more, and his greedy fingers clutched at my breasts in a savage fashion. I moaned and trembled, shivering with the awfulness of his attack.
I hated him completely at that moment, but at the same time, I could not escape the pleasure that was building in my loins, beginning to ripple through my flesh with increasing power and force.
I hated myself for what I was feeling. He was reawakening sensations and desires in me that I had thought I'd buried for all time. I sobbed, overcome with sickness at my response and clawed at him desperately.
"Please, please don't do this," I moaned, twisting and turning in the hay, my buttocks itching from the touch of it. "I pray you, Father, please leave me, now, do not do this evil, wicked thing to me!"
"You mean you don't want me to bring the pleasures that you have denied yourself back to you," he laughed savagely. "Well, my pretty young sister, I am afraid I must! It is my duty to make you happy, you see! And I always do my duty!"
His big, strong hand was massaging my breasts now, in cruel, yet marvelous ways. I felt his fingers rolling my nipples back and forth, pinching and squeezing them to a state of taut erection.
Harsh, compelling waves of delight tingled in my globes, making me yelp and gasp beyond control as the delightful tremors tore through them. I groaned thickly, unable to twist away from his other hand as he clasped it overrny quaking mound.
"Ahh, how warm and damp you are, my dear," he chuckled softly. "Your body is truly on fire for my touch! Your loins ache for my flesh, I can tell. The heat of your precious chamber sears my fingertips, dear Adele!"
I gasped with a quaking sensation of pure lust as his fingers explored the slippery thatch of hair that covered my virginal mound. He rode the thick, strong digits hungrily over my pit, pinching and tweaking my womanly petals between them.
Never had the powerful spasms been so fierce. The years seemed to melt away from me in swift, powerful waves and I was once more the hot-blooded girl of sixteen, eager and willing to experience as much of the joys of the flesh as I could.
I had to fight with myself to keep from grabbing at his trousers. As I gazed down I could see the fat, pulsating bulge at the front of them, growing bigger and more vibrant with each passing moment.
He laughed wickedly and brought his hand upward, clasping his fingers around my wrist. "Go on, my little dove, touch it," he hissed hungrily at me. "Put that soft, warm hand at my loins, touch my throbbing manhood as you ache to do!"
"No, no," I gasped, but unable to find the needed will to resist as he guided my hand down to his groin. He pushed my knuckles against the fat mound and I moaned as I felt his tool throbbing beneath his clothing.
I could feel the hot, racing blood that tore through his rod, pulsating feverishly in his loins and I could not tear my hand from the mound, even when he let go of my wrist. I moaned in despair and shame, my palm now pressing hard against the pounding rod that continued to expand beneath it.
His fingers returned to my loins, now and began to roam back and forth along the damp cleft between my womanly bps. They had grown fat and swollen with excitement and were intensely sensitive to his slightest caress.
I sobbed with a mixture of aching need and horrified guilt as he kneaded and caressed my petals. Lovingly he played with my cunt, now, dancing the tip of one finger in and out of my hot, burning pit.
This was madness, sinful madness, I knew, but there seemed to be no escape for me, now. I could fight him with my dying breath, I knew, but I had no weapons to use against my own s?vage desire, now awakened by his manly attack, and growing ever more willing to respond to the marvelous sensations he was creating in my flesh.
I moaned thickly as his mouth moved over my own. "Your lips are sweeter than the finest wine," he murmured softly, slithering his tongue around my own in a playful manner. "I have never tasted anything as fresh and pure in my life!"
His fingers slithered over my breasts and two of the digits on his free hand began to probe my aching cunt chamber in a more determined fashion. I gasped as I felt the gentle but compelling invasion, and my inner muscles quivering involuntarily against the probing spears as they drove into me.
"Ohh, God, God forgive me, that is so good," I moaned, the tears of shame pouring from my eyes, now. "I can not help it, it is so good!"
He laughed once more and gently buried his fingers deep in my trembling cave, tapping them tenderly against the thin wall of flesh that was my maidenhead. I groaned as he began to twist and turn the fingers inside of me, each movement of his hand building the fires of desire higher in my virginal pit.
His mouth began to move down from my own, tortured lips across my throat and toward my heaving bosom. I gasped in delight as I felt his tongue lashing out at my nipples, flicking them in a teasing fashion as he nibbled on my quivering globes.
Never in all my memory, had this sensation been so acute. I groaned and shivered in uncontrollable spasms of delight, unable to pull away from the pleasure that was assaulting me now. My body had a mind of its own at this point and it was determined not to allow me to flee from the sensual passions it was demanding.
His fingers pumped in and out of my chamber with a slow, rhythmic grace, and his teeth were catching my nipples in turn and sucking them into his mouth. I sobbed as he lashed his tongue at one captured nugget, sending shock waves of stinging need ripping through my flesh in savage greed.
I was praying and begging God to help me, now, but the Master was ignoring my pleas. Perhaps He himself saw the wisdom in all this, for I could feel little more than the swirling wanting in my flesh now, and my words seemed silly and worthless to my ears, even as they left my lips.
His mouth sucked hungrily at my breasts, and his fingers pumped steadily along my taut, wet passage, now. More and more the desire and greed were taking hold of me and I could not seem to keep my fingers still at his groin any longer.
I squeezed the huge mound beneath his pants in my hand and he moaned thickly, shuddering in delight. I felt the hard, thick spear pounding under his clothing and I tore at the strings of his trousers to free that shaft from its confinement.
It popped out and into my hand, suddenly, a huge, thick weapon that quaked violently against my upturned palm. I thrilled to the fiery heat that was burning in the tool and eagerly closed my tiny fist around it.
"Ahhh, yes, dear Adele," he moaned, shuddering again as the pleasure ripped through him. "You remember what to do, don't you, my dear? Yes, play with it, now, squeeze and caress it! Do it, Adele, yes, do it, now!"
How passionately I began to fondle his huge, powerful organ. I loved the way it quaked against my fist, full of savage power and force. I dropped my free hand to the thick, hairy bag that contained his balls and squeezed the warm, taut sack lovingly in my hand. He groaned again, shivering as the aching need swept through him, and bucked fiercely as I methodically fondled his shaft and bag.
Now his mouth began to move over my belly, kissing and lathering me with his lips and tongue. The pleasure I was experiencing seemed to continue to build without pause, as if there were no end to the sensual passions I could feel.
I jerked spasmodically, my body quite out of my control now, as the involuntary tremors raced through my loins and tingled all over my aching flesh. I felt his lips at the rim of my love mound and I screamed softly in delight as he flicked his tongue at the tiny button that was the secret to my wanting.
I felt the almost unbearable delight tearing through my loins as his tongue swirled around the tender nugget. He laughed softly and pressed his lips around the small, hard stone, catching it between his teeth and sucking the creamy fluid of my need from the imprisoned pebble.
God, what delights assaulted me then. I screamed once more and squeezed his shaft ruthlessly in my hands. I hungrily pulled the huge, pulsating weapon to my lips and shamelessly began to kiss and lather the rod with my eager lips and tongue.
He moaned and shivered and inched his body closer to my own. As if I were caught in a frenzy, I moved my mouth swiftly over his flesh, aching to reach the hard, taut bag that held his balls.
I kissed and nibbled at the hairy sack, eagerly lashing at his burning flesh with my tongue as I opened my mouth to receive it. He groaned thickly when I pulled the throbbing stones beyond my lips and closed my teeth around them.
"God, yes, yes, dear Adele," he gasped, bucking fiercely as I sucked on the trapped container. "Ahh, that is marvelous, my dear, simply marvelous indeed!"
His own mouth was not idle, but roaming over my wet, slippery hillock with complete abandon now. He lathered my cunt petals with his tongue, driving it between them and burying the rough, pleasing spear deep inside of my pit. I screamed in unbearable delight and thrust my loins tightly against his mouth, locking my thighs at his head to hold him in place. As he rode his tongue to the very edge of my virginity, my own mouth suddenly left his balls and tore at his manhood with a savage fury.
I could think of little else but getting my lips around the head of his shaft, then, and sucking on the perfect tool with complete frenzy. I ran my tongue around the surface of his helmet then giggled as if a school girl and popped the huge, fat knob between my teeth while I locked my teeth around the rim of his head.
He gasped in pleasure and thrust forward suddenly, driving the huge, pulsating tool deep into my throat. Eagerly I relaxed my muscles, allowing him all the access he needed to the wet, narrow canal.
His own tongue drove back and forth along my aching vaginal pit, flicking against my inner walls with a cruel passion, while he chewed hungrily on my trembling, moist lips and drank happily from my flowing cave.
Now the desires of my girlhood came back upon me in a savage fury. I could not contain my passion any longer, my lust was out of my control now, a burning fiery greed that would not be satisfied with anything but total satisfaction.
I rolled and sobbed beneath his marvelous mouth and tongue, my body jerking and shuddering with every plunge of his tongue and pounding throb of his shaft against my inner throat. I choked on the huge prong, but held it fast, desperate to reach the threshold of pleasure that I sought.
"Now is the time, dear Adele," he whispered passionately, his lips kissing my mound with a lovingly hunger. "Now is the time to cast off your virginal ways and become the woman you were meant to be!"
I moaned and shuddered, my throbbing loins on fire with wanting, now. I felt his mouth leave my pit and his body twisting around. His shaft pulled free from my mouth and before I knew it, he was squirming between my thighs, forcing them apart with his big, thick-fingered hands.
I realized with a shock what he had in mind and I screamed softly in horror and shock. "No, no, no," I gasped thickly. "You can't, you can't!"
He laughed wickedly and pressed his free hand down against my breasts, holding me firmly to the hay beneath my body. He smiled, but not cruelly and kneaded my hot, slippery loins with his other hand.
"Softly, dear Sister," he chuckled. "You are about to free yourself from the horror of your past! Do not be afraid, in moments, you shall experience joy beyond your understanding. Your life is just beginning!"
I moaned and shuddered as I felt his tool slithering suddenly between my thighs. It beat wildly against my inner flesh, then was tapping against the rim of my mound, throbbing powerfully against the quivering lips that guarded my virginal pit.
He reached down with his hand and spread my lips apart, fitting the thick, hot head of his manhood between them. I gasped in shock and overwhelming pleasure as I felt the first lovely sensation of a man's organ penetrating my taut, wet pit.
There is no way to describe how thrilling that first invasion was. His cock felt ten times the normal size and seemed to fill my aching inner chamber completely. I sobbed and shuddered on the hay, but no longer made any attempt to escape, no, I wanted it now, wanted it more than anything else on earth.
Deeper and deeper he forced the huge weapon into me, now. I sobbed and groaned as I felt my inner walls surrounding the plunging tool, and my love muscles flexed uncontrollably against the invading spear, kneading him shamelessly.
I felt the huge spear rapping hard against my virginal wall, the heat of his prong searing my flesh almost unbearably. He rocked from left to right inside of me then, then slowly withdrew his shaft almost three quarters of the way out of my damp, quaking tunnel.
His hands slipped beneath my buttocks and held me firmly, digging his fingers into my spongy half moons and whispering fiercely in my ear. "Be ready, my love," he told me tenderly. "You will have but a brief moment of pain before the pleasure consumes you! You are about to become a woman, dear Adele, right now!"
With that, he thrust forward violently, driving his shaft hard against my tiny, taut membrane. The unyielding flesh held for a brief instant and the pain tore through me savagely. But even as the scream left my lips, he buried his shaft to the hilt in my cave and the overwhelming rush of pleasure surged through me, now.
Never could I have dreamed it would feel so wonderful. His manhood pounded inside of me relentlessly, and the shock waves rippled through my flesh with unbelievable delight. Just having him inside of me was enough to bring me near to climax, and when he began to thrust in and out of me, I thought I would surely die of pleasure.
"Ohh, God, harder, faster, Father, please," I began to sob. I thrust myself up against him greedily, and locked my ankles suddenly behind his back. "Yes, harder, faster yes! Ohh, it's so good, so wonderful, yes, yes!"
My sobs and moans of pleasure had their effect and his shaft seemed to expand all the more inside of me, now. I twisted and turned beneath the lovely assault, sobbing and groaning with each powerful thrust of his tool.
Again and again he drove into me, each stroke more violent and pleasing than the last. Never had my loins been so on fire, never in fact had any sensation been so fierce and overpowering, it seemed.
Even the cruel and savage agony I had felt in my ass years before could not compare in completeness to this beauty I was enduring. I rolled from left to right, sobbing with the delight of it, feeling the orgasm building uncontrollably in the pit of my aching loins. I moaned again and again, eager to completely surrender to this bliss.
I knew that I was soon to explode in spasms of quaking fury. I felt my loins boiling with lust and the inner walls of my cave drawing tight around his thundering weapon. I gripped the shaft tightly with my muscles and ground my belly hard against his own as the fury of my passion consumed me.
Suddenly harsh and burning fires were raging in my pit and my whole body was quaking with the exquisite agony of my release. I screamed wildly, thrusting myself tightly into his groin, sobbing as the climax ripped through my cave.
"Ohh, yes, God, ohhh, yes," I sobbed, nodding and shuddering in spasms of the purest emotion I had ever known. "So good inside of me, you feel so good!"
Again and again the delightful tremors raged through me. He doubled his efforts now, as he felt my muscles kneading him wildly and the fluid of my passion washing over his shaft. He roared his manhood into me uncontrollably, his pumping action harsh and rhythmic, vicious but delightful in every way.
I gasped and shuddered, sobbing and urging him on with violent thrusts of my body. I felt his tool swelling beyond belief inside of me, then he thrust forward hungrily and buried the prong to the hilt in my cave.
Hot, boiling fluid spurt from the head of his shaft and seared my inner walls with its creamy power and force. He groaned and shuddered as his release took hold of him, his whole frame quaking with the power of his climax.
"Ahh, sweet, dear Adele," he groaned thickly, rocking his bursting tool back and forth inside of me. "That is so good, my dear, so very good indeed! Yes, dear Adele, ahh, yes, yes!"
Together we thrashed in the hay for quite some time, the delightful and overpowering tremors tearing through us again and again. I do not know how long that orgasm lasted, nor how much time passed before the final lingering spasms left my flesh. But in the end, I knew that I had changed, even if I did not want to admit it. For what had happened to me with him, would not allow me to return to my previous state of mind so easily.
I lay in his arms, trembling, a thousand thoughts swirling in my mind. I was confused and terrified, no longer able to see anything clearly. I had no idea how all of this would turn out, but I feared for my soul, if not my very life itself because of this strange and powerful man that held me.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Needless to say, I no longer wished Father Martin to leave us. I would no more have sent him away, then denied myself food nor drink. I was intoxicated by him and determined to explore the mysterious sensations he offered, even at the risk of damning myself to eternity.
Naturally enough, I was quite confused and not a little frightened by what had happened to me. I was now rather torn between two states of mind. One the fierce and almost savage desire to purge my flesh continually of all sin, and the other, an equally compelling desire to bask in the luscious and thrilling pleasures of lust and passion. I could not see any sense in it.
I could not begin to understand myself. My body told me two things at once, as did my mind. As the days dwindled on and I enjoyed Father Martin's body and love at my leisure, I began to question the teachings of Sister Agnes.
"How can such beauty and pleasure be against the law of God," Father Martin would say. "Sister Agnes is a demented old woman " that has no understanding of anything but the hatred she holds for herself and all others."
He told me that God had created the body for us to enjoy and to deny ourselves would be the same as disobeying His commandment. "Our flesh is there to be used," he would whisper fiercely. "We have no right not to pleasure ourselves!"
I could not believe this totally either. I began to suspect Father Martin of being as twisted as I feared Sister Agnes was. Both of them seemed to caught up in their beliefs, that they could see nothing clearly beyond their own savage ideas.
A world of total sin dedicated to the flesh did not seem logical or godly to me, yet I could not so easily dismiss the pleasures I had experienced, either. I was completely confused, and vaguely aware that the problem would soon determine how I spent the rest of my life. I had to come to a conclusion somehow and swiftly.
A subtle battle began to wage between Sister Agnes and Father Martin. Her sessions of self-punishment and discipline increased, and behind her back, he had set upon the pursuit of seducing every nun in the convent.
Neither of them ever acknowledged the other's influence or presence. It was as if two worlds existed under one roof. Father Martin would pay no attention to the howls and screams he heard at night, and Sister Agnes could never seem to catch him coupling with one of the nuns. The situation grew worse and worse and the tension built steadily. For Father Martin, it almost seemed like a lark, but to Sister Agnes, his actions chipped at the very foundation of her ideals and faith.
I sat on the sideline so to speak, merely observing. I had my time with him now and again, but he could not sway me completely to his side. I remained firm in my middle position, content to watch the battle from afar.
I was changing myself, day by day, and I was aware of this, unable to commit myself to either position, though I knew Sister Agnes was growing more and more angry and afraid with each passing day.
She was determined to catch him with one of the nuns. "I will destroy him," she told me fiercely. "I will find him and rub him out! One time with his sin before my eyes and I shall grind him under my foot."
She was gathering her forces around her and I became uneasy. Priests and nuns were coming from all over, called by her to save the cause. Father Martin seemed undisturbed by all of this, he merely laughed her efforts off.
"You are the key, dear Adele," he told me one evening. "They will follow you when you choose the path you wish to take."
"And if I choose Sister Agnes's way, what then?" I asked him. "What will happen to you, indeed to Rome itself, if I find my way lies in punishment and suffering?"
"I shall very likely be killed," he chuckled wickedly. "For they surround me even now, and I suspect your precious Sister Agnes is preparing for a final assault!"
I dreaded the final confrontation, but little did I know it would come that very evening. I was asleep in my room when I heard footsteps outside my door. I rose from my bed and there, to my total shock and amazement, I saw
Father Martin boldly slipping into Sister Marcia's room.
Sister Marcia was the niece of Sister Agnes, and more precious to her, than even I. If he should be caught plowing that field, I thought, it will surely be the end of him. Grimly I tiptoed down the hall and into the adjoining room. As with all the other sitting rooms in the house, there were peep holes in quantity, so I had no trouble in observing all that occurred in the young, seventeen-year-old's room.
Father John was seated on Sister Marcia's bed and she was sitting beside him, trembling with an obvious mixture of fear and desire. He slipped an arm around her slender shoulders and pulled her to him, kissing her hungrily.
His hand moved over the front of her gown and parted it as if it were a curtain, baring her young flesh to his greedy fingers. I felt no jealousy at this, not even rage, only a throbbing fear for him in my loins.
Tenderly his hand slipped downward over the girl's quivering body. I watched as he cupped her firm, tiny breasts and squeezed them gently in his big, strong fist. She moaned and shivered, the first, glorious sensations rippling through her young body as the older man caressed her.
Their mouths met in a savage kiss and his other hand was down between her thighs, now, gently forcing them apart so that he could have access to her small, wet pit.
I watched in fascination, remembering my own awakening at a man's hands with fond delight. I could well imagine how she felt as his fingers toyed with the sparse tufts of hair that covered her youthful mound, and danced delightfully over her wet, slippery petals guarding her secret inner cave.
Sister Marcia shivered with delight and obeying a whispered request, reached down and fumbled with the draw strings to his trousers, releasing his shaft from the confinement of them. She gasped in shock and surprise and took the tool with a trembling hand.
Father Martin was quite in control of himself as he told her exactly what to do, and in a few moments, she had pumped his tool to full erection and was riding her palm slowly back and forth along the length of the expanding weapon.
His fingers continued to knead and caress her breasts as she fondled his shaft and the look on his face was one of pure bliss as the girl pumped her hands along his throbbing tool. I could hear soft, compelling moans coming from his lips and even the girl, now was sighing almost in contentment as his own fingers worked on the moist, warm spot between her thighs.
I watched with a small warmth spreading through me, then, as the priest carefully drew the pleasures up and out of the girl's quivering flesh. It was clear to me that he intended to take her to some moment of ecstasy and passion she had never considered before. Though I did not completely understand his motives, I realized somehow that he was pushing the confrontation with Sister Agnes to its limits by the action he was undertaking.
His hands moved over Sister Marcia's body with cool intent, caressing and fondling her in their expert manner, slowly building a passionate fire in the innocent girl's flesh that only he would be able to quench.
More and more she seemed to be losing control of some portion of herself, drawing swiftly to a moment of supreme abandonment that of course, only he could command.
His hands began to push on her body, ease her off the bed and onto her knees in front of him. Almost as if in a trance, the girl did as he wished, slipping from her soft mattress and eagerly kneeling before him.
He opened his legs and pulled Sister Marcia between them, drawing her lithe body up close to the bed and her head near to his lap. His manhood rocked back and forth between his thighs, a huge, throbbing pole that was now just inches from the young girl's eager lips.
Now it was clear to me that he meant to put her in the position of total submission. He wanted to capture and control her mind and the way to do that, obviously, was to have her pleasure him completely, without any thought of her own desires. More over, to make his desires, her own.
Whispering soft, tender endearments to her, he drew her head downward toward his groin, bringing her mouth nearer and nearer to the pounding shaft that rose up from between his legs like a massive, living pole.
Eagerly, the young girl pressed her soft, pliant lips to the quaking weapon. I watched his face twist into a contorted mask of pleasure as she moved her delicate mouth over the pounding rod.
Lovingly now, the young girl kissed and licked her way around the huge shaft. She rolled her tongue over the surface of his helmet, kissing and stabbing at his cock head with increasing passion.
I watched, now fascinated by his method and control as the young girl grew more frantic and hungered in her attack. It was as if he had strings attached to her mind as she attacked his cock, for even through the mask of passion and pleasure that I saw on his face, I could see a cold, controlled delight in his eyes.
His hands fondled her head as she moved her mouth downward toward his balls. She lifted the taut, hairy bag to her mouth and lathered it with her tongue. Her perfect even teeth began to nibble hungrily on his quivering sack and he groaned thickly, nodding his head in approval.
"Ahh, that's it, my dear," he moaned in a thick, aching tone of voice. "Yes, do that, yes! Take them in your mouth, little Marcia, in your mouth, now!"
Eagerly the young girl opened her lips wide and sucked the hard, pounding stones into her moist, warm chamber. Father Martin groaned aloud once more and bucked forward as she locked her lips and teeth around his throbbing stones.
I could see her tossing the two, hard balls back and forth against her cheek's and I heard the soft, compelling sound of her humming and blowing air against them.
He twisted and turned on the bed now, the pleasure obviously becoming more powerful.
He sobbed almost as the girl sucked hungrily on his trapped stones. From the way his body was jerking and shaking, I knew that he was becoming consumed with delight, the pleasure racing through him almost uncontrollably.
. He leaned backward on the bed, jerking spasmodically, his hands gripping the girls head tightly now. He shuddered and groaned and she clasped her hands around his thighs, burying her head in his groin as she sucked on his tortured balls.
He pulled on her hair now, obviously overcome by wanting, and drew her mouth up from his balls and into his lap. "The cock, the cock," he groaned thickly, thrusting his pulsating tool into her face.
"Suck the cock, dearest Marcia, suck the cock," he almost pleaded with her.
Eagerly the young girl moved her lovely lips along the pounding weapon, sinking her teeth into his flesh as she made her way upward toward his pink, engorged head.
When she reached the rim of his helmet, she teasingly lathered the flesh with her tongue, then opened her mouth wide, and accepted the fat, hot knob inside of her oral cavity. Instantly, Father Martin responded, almost leaping up from the bed in a wail of passion.
He shuddered violently as he thrust forward again, driving his tool deep into her mouth, sinking it down into the tight passage of her throat. The girl shuddered and choked for a moment, then relaxed her muscles as he instructed and accepted all of his meat into her passage.
She sucked hungrily on the root of his weapon, bobbing her head, now up and down on the long, pounding spear. Father Martin was in total ecstasy now, jerking and shuddering under her attack, his body twisting and turning with the pleasure he was receiving.
Harder and faster he forced the young girl to attack his manhood. I could see it bulging against the walls of her throat as he forced it to the depths of her tunnel, and I could see it swelling larger and larger as his aching need reached a fevered pitch of uncontrollable wanting and lust.
The young girl was in total abandonment, now, sucking and lathering the tool with complete delight. She was clearly thrilled to please him so much and she bobbed her head up and down in a rapid motion that was designed to give him the most pleasure possible in these last moments before climax.
Father Martin moaned and trembled, bucking in harsh jerking spasms that leaped from deep within his tortured loins. He gasped and shuddered as the orgasm began to roar through him, and even I could smell the sweet, dank scent of passion that filled the room beyond where I was observing them.
Suddenly Father Martin was thrashing under the girl's assault, his whole body bent in a strange, twisted arch. He gasped and sobbed, swaying from left to right as the girl sucked and swallowed around his plunging tool.
"Ahh, yes, take it, my child, take all of it," he moaned thickly, the sweat of pleasure pouring from his forehead. "Take all the love liquid that pumps from my tool! Jesus, good, so good! Suck it my child, suck it out of me, yes!"
Clearly he was climaxing in her mouth, for I could see traces of the thick, white cream flowing over the girl's excited lips. She sucked and swallowed passionately, now, obviously eager to drink every drop of the precious fluid possible.
Father Martin jerked and shuddered for quite some time, his whole frame bent at a strange angle as the pleasure roared through him. He groaned and patted the girl's head as she drew every last bit of his liquid from his tool, and when she was finished, she fell back on the floor, licking her stained lips like a contented cat.
Father Martin stared down at her, smiling coldly, as his tool continued to quake between his legs. He nodded in satisfaction, whispering in a tender, loving voice.
"You see, my little dear, how nice it can be?" he chuckled softly. "You see how wonderful the body's delights can be?"
"Liar! Animal! Beast of Satan!" came a scream from beyond the room.
Their heads turned just in time to see Sister Agnes and several priests and nuns enter the room. The old woman was shaking with rage, her eyes blazing with more madness than I had ever seen as she advanced upon them.
"You have corrupted my niece," she hissed at Father Martin. "You have defiled her young flesh, made her unclean! You are a devil sent to destroy us!"
Father Martin rose from the bed, not bothering to hide his shaft from view. He shook his head coldly. "No, it is you that is corrupt," he hissed at her coldly. "You that would ruin and destroy these people. I have come to save them from your sinful wickedness, bitch! Come to lead them to God's loving glory!"
"Silence him," Sister Agnes hissed, and two of the bigger priests leaped upon Father Martin, throwing him to the floor.
The giant priest kicked and struggled, but it was no use. More of the smaller men fell upon him and one finally raised a length of wood above his head and brought it down several times upon the helpless father's skull.
I heard him moan then go silent and I turned away from the peek hole, shivering with terror and confusion. I had no idea what would happen next, nor how I would feel. about it, but I knew that I would soon have to face myself and make my decision about all these things at last. It could just not go on, a decision would have to be made. I would have to choose the right way, the way that the Lord intended.
CHAPTER EIGHT
The time had come, my son, to see what form my life would take. Even though I could not understand everything completely, then, I realized that I could never again merely blindly follow one belief or another.
I retired to my own quarters and awaited the arrival of Sister Agnes. I knew she would be coming soon. She would want my help in whatever evil plans she had. She would want me to be at her side and assist her in the monstrous tortured she would devise. She leaned on me heavily, by now, and only my sanction would allow her to perform her deeds before all the assembled nuns and priests.
I suffered in those moments my son, I ached to be set free of this awful confusion and doubt. For the first time, I believe, I truly prayed to God our Father for guidance. I could turn to no other than He, to find my way clear in this.
It did not take Sister Agnes long to set her plans in motion. I had barely enough time to do my praying before there was a loud, insistent banging on my door and I opened it to find Sister Agnes staring at me with wild eyes.
Without a word she motioned me to follow her and I trailed along behind, trembling with an increasing dread as she led me and others to the large altar room where the punishment and decisions I would have to make, would take place.
Already the room was filled to bursting with priests and nuns from miles around. They were whispering anxiously, the air rich with excitement and anticipation. I followed Sister Agnes through the crowd and up the steps leading to the altar, my body bathed in sweat and fear.
A loud murmur went up from the throng as we made our way to the marble platform. I could almost feel their tense excitement as I took my place beside Sister Agnes as she sat in her large, ornate throne.
"We have witnessed sin, this day," she hissed almost drunkenly. "In this house, deeds of the most foul manner have taken place. A purge unlike any other must be performed before we can be clean again."
I ran my eyes over the crowd, trying to gauge how they felt about these things. More than a few, I knew for certain, no more believed in Sister Agnes's ideas that did Father Martin, but only went along to amuse themselves, or perhaps gain power through the old crone.
It was perhaps at that moment, that I began to understand just how important I was to all this. That I truly held the future in my hands. Their eyes seemed to be directed toward Sister Agnes, but I could see clearly, how they were truly watching my every move and reaction to her words. What I decided would be the course that they would take, it was certain in my mind.
"Bring the vile creatures in," Sister Agnes growled, slapping her palms on the arms of her chair. "Let the redemption of their souls, if possible, begin!"
All eyes swung to the large, double doors at the far end of the raised platform where several priests and nuns stood guard. They opened and two nuns dragged a sobbing Sister Marcia into the room. The girl kicked and wailed, but was more terrified than anyone I had ever seen and her fear prevented her from fighting very well.
The nuns threw the child at Sister Agnes's feet and the old nun glared at her. "You have befouled my house, child," she hissed coldly. "You have forsaken my teachings and soiled your flesh. For this you must suffer greatly!"
She turned her head and nodded and two priests began to shove a not very reluctant Father Martin into the room. The man moved easily, giving no indication that he wished to escape whatsoever. My heart leaped into my throat when I saw him, and my whole body began to tremble violently with shock.
He had shaven his beard while awaiting his fate, and his hard, manly features were now revealed completely to my eyes. I had to blink several times in shock and disbelief, for there, before me, stood my old lover, the first keeper of my heart's flame. My lovely, manly Stephen.
I almost fainted on the spot, laughing almost bitterly at myself for not realizing it had been he all along. I had recognized him from the very beginning, but had been so absolutely blinded by my life at the convent and the years that had passed to know him, truly.
As the burly priest dragged Stephen, now Father Martin, it appeared, to the spot where the sobbing Marcia lay, he gave no sign of recognition. He was apparently going to place all the burden of my decision squarely upon my shoulders.
Sister Agnes, of course, knew nothing but her own rage at this moment. She cast her violent, burning eyes on the big, muscular man and hissed at him through her tightly clenched teeth, her voice dripping with the venom of self-satisfaction.
"You have played too long, priest," she chuckled coldly. "You have pushed your devil luck too far, this time. You had better prepare to meet God, for he will soon be taking his judgment upon you."
Father Martin ignored the old woman and turned to the crowd. He placed his hands on his hips and glared at them defiantly. "I come from Rome," he barked, nodding his head. "His Holiness, the Pope has sent me to rid this land of the evil this woman has brought to the faith!' He turned his head and glanced at Sister Agnes with disgust. "This woman has corrupted you, spread the blasphemous words of devilry among you, and some of you have been taken in. I say to you now, reject her, come back to the Church where you belong!"
"Lies, all lies," hissed Sister Agnes, rising up from her chair and shaking with uncontrollable anger. "You have been sent by Satan and it is back to him that I shall drive you! Bind him to the altar, strip him and prepare his flesh!"
Quickly the priests grabbed hold of Father Martin's arms and pulled him back to the altar. They tore at his shirt and trousers, ripping them from him while others tied him by the arms and legs to the marble mantle.
He was facing the crowd, his magnificent body drenched in sweat, the light of the candles gleaming off of his flesh as he leaned impassively against the stone.
Sister Agnes smiled thinly at the big, handsome man. It was then I saw in her eyes, the wickedness that so enveloped her. She saw this not merely as an act that must be done to redeem his soul, but something for her own taste of revenge.
She cackled as she took hobbling steps toward the bound priest, her ancient body trembling with excitement and delight.
She removed a golden knife from the folds of her robe, a wicked, curved tool that shimmered in the light of the candles, giving off blinding rays of cruel reflection.
She waved the tool back and forth in front of Father Martin's eyes, smiling in an evil manner as she showed him the sharp, vicious blade. "You shall pay for your corruption, demon," she told him happily. "I am going to make you beg for God's mercy before I send you to him."
"You can not frighten me, old bitch," hissed Father Martin. He laughed and shook his head. "God shall protect me in the end. Your time is at hand, wicked woman. Soon you shall join the lost souls you have corrupted in hell!"
My mind was whirling then, trapped between the two shores that pulled at me. I saw the horror of the blade, and the sin that Father Martin represented and I could hardly breathe with the awesome choice I had to make.
Sister Agnes growled with rage and turned to the throng. "Now I shall purify his flesh," she told them. "Let his blood flow and wash him clean before I thrust the final blow that gives him to our Lord's blessing!"
She turned at once and sliced downward, lashing the knife across Father Martin's broad, massive chest. Instantly the wound she caused burst open and he gasped as the blood began to seep from the deep slash, darkening the matted hair on his frame.
I gagged as I watched her slash at him again, crossing the first cut with another of equal depth and damage. Father Martin groaned in pain, but neither screamed nor fought to escape the bonds that held him.
A sense of blood lust seemed to infect her then. It was something I had seen many times before, and I shuddered as I watched it visibly taking hold of the old, demented nun. She cackled madly and whirled on the crowd.
"He seeks to defile us, Brothers and Sisters," she hissed. "His blood shall pour from his wounds and we shall be free of his influence at last. I give him to God's mercy, for he can not expect any on earth!"
With that she turned and began to slash left and right at Father Martin's chest. The priest jerked and gasped with every slice but still made no move to escape nor turn away from the blows. Though his tortured groans escaped his lips, he did not scream or beg for mercy, and after a few moments, his chest held more than a dozen wounds and his head was lolling about his shoulders almost in a stupor from the pain and rapid loss of blood.
I was frozen in place, almost removed from the scene. I watched my poor, dear lover's flesh being mutilated, and I could not make a move to save him. I felt my whole life spinning around me and the roar that echoed in my ears, was the scream of my mind as it witnessed this savage torture.
Sister Adele, come assist me, hissed Sister Agnes urgently. "Come, you must be part of this redemption! I will finally make you one with me, now!"
Someone shoved me forward from behind and I stumbled toward the bleeding man and crazed nun. I stood quivering beside them, my eyes flashing back and forth between Father Martin's ravaged body and Sister Agnes' blazing eyes.
She took hold of my hand and began to guide it to Father Martin's loins. "Take his shaft, Sister," she whispered urgently. "Hold it tight for me, I shall remove this foul weapon from him once and for all!"
Unable to fight her, I took the thick, quivering head of Father Martin's wonderful tool between my fingers and drew his shaft away from his groin. It began to tremble with excitement and grow, thicker and thicker as I pulled on it.
He lifted his head and smiled at me, nodding in an amazingly calm fashion. I gazed down at the mighty weapon, now fully erect and beating powerfully in my fingers and the horror of what I was helping the old woman to do raced through me.
"Now I shall end this plague," she cackled madly. She lowered the blood-stained blade of the knife to Father Martin's pulsating tool.
"Now I shall sever his ties with Satan, prepare him for our God!"
I felt the head of Father Martin's tool pounding against my flesh, and I could sense the eyes of all the rest of them upon me. My tormented mind was raging now, screaming silently at me in the hour of my decision.
"Give my hand strength, Oh God," Sister Agnes droned. "Let me do my duty unto you! Guide the blade swift and clean through this soiled tool I strike!"
She was on the verge of cutting through his flesh and I screamed wildly, throwing my arm between his shaft and the blade. The knife cut deep into my flesh as I pushed, the old woman aside.
"You are insane, evil," I hissed at her, ignoring my wound as it poured blood upon the marble floor. "I denounce you now, before all! Your mind is twisted and ridden with Satan's teachings!"
The old woman quivered with rage and lunged at me with the knife. I stumbled backward and fell heavily against the altar, striking my head on the marble edge. I blinked as the stars danced around in front of my eyes, my strength leaving me.
"Death to the sinner," Sister Agnes growled. "Death to him, now!"
She raised the knife to strike Father Martin in the chest and I screamed helplessly beside my lover. Sister Marcia had drawn herself to her feet and she wailed in horror and grief, throwing herself at the old woman.
Sister Agnes cried out as she whirled and lost her footing, then came down hard on her belly, the knife curled beneath her body. She gasped in shock as the long, curved blade cut through her flesh and continued on out through her back.
I watched in shock and revulsion as she kicked helplessly on the steps, gagging and moaning, her eyes blinking in pain and horror. She moaned and tried to turn over, then rolled down the steps and came to a stop on her side, the blood that filled her lungs trickling out her trembling lips.
Time seemed suspended for a brief instant. The assembled priests and nuns were silent in shock and dismay. I groaned and drew myself up to my feet, trying desperately to shake the cobwebs from my mind and gain control.
"It is finished," I finally moaned, waving my hand at Sister Agnes' limp body, "The time of pain and suffering has ended. Go home all of you and pray for forgiveness. God had given his judgment, Sister Agnes is no more!"
A murmur went through the crowd and I could swear I heard them sighing with relief. I untied my poor, torn lover and with the help of others, carried him to his room where I cleaned and dressed his wounds.
He recovered quickly, his powerful body fighting the attack bravely. It was hardly more than a week before he was up and around, and cornering me in my chambers.
His hands were at my shoulders as he stood beside me, kneading my flesh in his strong, sensual fashion. "I love you my dearest Adele," he whispered passionately, bending his lips to my cheek. "Come away with me, now, to Rome!"
I shook my head. "I shall not," I told him firmly. "I must remain here and build my church and convent once more. I am Sister Adele. and you are Father Martin, and that is how it must be!"
He turned me around, his hands undoing my garments as if by magic as he did. I felt my robe falling away from my body and his lips moving over mine in a calm, controlled manner. I shivered as one of his big hands cupped over my breasts, and the other gripped the flesh of my buttocks.
"Then one last time we shall couple, dear Sister," he chuckled wickedly. "One last time before we don our robes and once more become the servants of God!"
How could I resist him? His hands were so strong and powerful, so full of life as they moved over my trembling frame. He kneaded and caressed me gently, slithered his fingers back and forth along the moist cleft between my buttocks; pinched and rolled my nipples between his other marvelous digits.
I bent into him, mashing my mouth against his hungrily. Our kiss was savage and urgent, and our tongues met with a violent passion, entwining greedily around each other. I shivered and groaned, dropping my hand to his trousers and forcing the garment to fall to the floor at his feet.
I felt his manhood rising against my eager hand, growing and expanding so wonderfully that I could hardly bear to touch it. It pulsated rapidly against my fingers and throbbed with a thrilling power as I held it tightly in my fist.
"I give you myself," I cooed lovingly, guiding one of his hands to my now damp and burning pit. "I give you my flesh this last time! Let us be one before we part! Let us bind ourselves for all eternity!"
He chuckled softly, rolling his fingers back and forth along the moist, quivering lips of my womanly mound. I sobbed as I felt him turn two fingers against me, spreading my dripping petals wide as he inserted them into my quaking tunnel.
His shaft pounded wildly in my hand and I pumped my fingers back and forth along the tool with an increasing frenzy.
Dear Martin was beside himself with pleasure and as I guided his magnificent weapon to my pit for the last time, I wondered, idly, if I would possibly conceive.
It must have been a second sense to me, for indeed, the results of that blessed, final encounter were you, dear Father Stephen, my own son. I know it will shock you to learn that the Mother Superior you loved so long, is indeed your true mother.
But as I have written, much sin and evil existed in those days, though I can. not find it in my heart to condemn you as a product of sin. I believe God meant for me to enjoy the one experience of a normal woman in bearing a child, before I gave my body and soul to his work.
Now, as I approach death, I pray you will learn from these pages and take care to guard against such evil working its madness in our blessed church, ever again. You are the son of my womb, dear Stephen, keep sharp for the devil's work, he can seem peaceful and sensual, even as he corrupts the most innocent of flesh. I know, I have witnessed and lived his work, even as I have triumphed over him.
